#anyway it's raining buckets outside

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here?

Summary: Things aren't going as smoothly as anyone would like. Maybe they can fix it. Maybe they can't.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,723 words

Warnings: Angst, discussion of nightmares, PTSD, discussion of death and killing people, emotions, so many emotions, angst, a little sliver of comfort

A/N: And it is back!! not super proud of this one but I'm starting out on a filler so...yeah. Really just setting up for the next part where some action starts again. You'll see. Anyway, glad to be back at it and I hope you enjoy!

11/30/24: **This chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

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John stands at the door, gazing out at the yard. It’s pouring rain, dumping buckets on the roof. The water has pooled on the planks of the deck, splattering with every big drop that pours from the sky. The weather once again mirrors your mood, your sobs audible from your room over the pounding on the roof. 

John holds his mug in his hands, staring at the reflection in the window. Kyle and Johnny are sitting on the couch, both looking like kicked puppies. They’re itching to enter your room and go comfort you, but they’ve been kicked out for now. You’re not in the state of mind to be around any of them right now, no matter how badly your sobs tear at their heartstrings. 

You haven’t been in that state of mind for a few hours now. 

Whatever nightmare had plagued your mind last night, it was particularly awful. You’ve been up since the early hours, waking from a nightmare with a terrified scream that had continued until Kyle finally got you to stop and breathe. His ears are still ringing with it, his mind still pulsing with that fear. Something happened. Someone got in. Someone hurt you. 

Nothing happened. No one got in.  

The only threat was still just in your mind. 

Graves. 

He knows that’s at least part of your nightmares. Christine had disclosed that to him quietly on the side. Even she doesn’t know everything that plagues your dreams, but Graves seems to be a common specter in the darkness of your mind. 

It makes his blood boil, and not just out of anger for what Graves did to you. 

It boils with anger at himself too. 

It’s his fault you’re in this state in the first place. He should have known, he should have seen, he should have suspected. He should have never left you there. You should have been his priority over anything else. 

How badly he’s failed you. 

He lets out a sigh, turning away from the window to move over to the couches. He sinks down with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. The little progress you’ve made has regressed with this new string of nightmares, the fear pushing you further and further back into your mind. He’s resolved himself to only get worried when Christine is worried, and right now she’s beginning to look worried. If you regress back again, the chances of bringing you out of that are slim. Sure, there are plenty of options to help, but you have to want them to help. 

He knows exactly what will help, you just don’t want it. 

He runs a hand through his hair as your sobs begin to quiet. It’s longer than he’s let it get for a long time. They’re all a bit scraggly and ragged looking, worn down and lazy now that there’s no strict rules guiding their lives. None of them quite know what to do outside of the regulations they’ve spent the better parts of their lives living under. He’s been in the military longer now than he hasn’t, and he’s been finding himself itching for that structure again. He can never bring himself to relax and put the job aside even on leave. He only takes it when he has to and usually spends it training and keeping his skills sharp. 

Now...now things have changed. 

They have no return now. There’s no clear, set time that they have to return to base. They can’t return to base. It would leave them too open to a possible retaliation from Shepherd. They were betrayed by one of their own already, who's to say someone else wouldn’t be just as eager to become a traitor for a chunk of cash? They’re not even truly safe here. 

How are they going to go back to base after this? Can he bring himself to take you back there, a place you never felt comfortable in the first place? 

Where do they go from here? 

He’s been trying not to think too much about it. That’s a dilemma for a different day. That’s thinking too far ahead. Day by day is as far as he dares to take it now. 

The door closes quietly, John’s head lifting to watch Christine as she approaches the couch. There’s a slump to her shoulders, something that’s been getting lower and lower as the days have progressed. She’s struggling with this just as much as they all are. 

She sinks down on the couch, letting out a long breath. Your sobs have quieted, no sound coming from the room now. The silence is almost eerie after days of constant sounds, good and bad, from your room. You were doing better. You were looking more alive and well. 

Then this happened. 

“She’s asleep.” Christine says, her voice strained. “Finally calmed down enough to nap.” She covers her eyes with a hand, sitting there still for a moment. 

“The nightmares?” John asks, glancing at Christine out of the corner of his eye. 

“Worse.” She says, her gaze far away. “She's remembering what happened.” 

John stares at Kyle and Johnny for a moment, the betas returning his worried gaze.

“Those shadows she killed...” Johnny says.

Christine nods. “She's, uh, not taking it well.” 

John runs a hand over his face. He knew it was possible you'd start to remember what happened during the time your omega took control. It wouldn't remain a dark spot forever, though he hoped it would. The things you were forced to do are coming to light now, the things you did to survive because they failed you. Taking the life of someone who deserves it is nothing to them. Taking the life of someone who would take yours just as quickly isn't so much as a second thought. 

You're not like them. 

You've never had to face that reality before, and you shouldn't have had to. 

“One of us should talk to her.” Kyle says.

“I don't think that's the best idea right now.” Christine shakes her head. “She's...regressed a bit. Pushing that on her, while well intentioned, might do more harm than good...” she trails off, her gaze still far away. 

The three of them sit there, waiting for what she’s going to say next. He’s not even sure Johnny or Kyle are breathing as they wait patiently for whatever solution Christine might be able to come up with, whatever move she thinks is the best one to take next. 

“I want to take her out.” Christine says. 

“What?” John asks in surprise. 

“She needs to get out of the house. It’s not doing any of us any good sitting in here all day.” She rubs her eyes. “She expressed interest in going for a walk a couple days ago. She needs to get up and moving, start regaining some of her strength.” 

John lets out a breath leaning back against the couch. He’s tempted to say no. His knee jerk reaction is to refuse. The world outside isn’t safe. If anyone is watching, if anyone sees them...

There’s always going to be that risk though, and Christine is right. Sitting in the house all day isn’t doing any of them any good. They’re at the mercy of the rain, but even then, he doubts it will keep any of them trapped inside for long. 

“When the rain clears up.” He finally says. “We'll discuss it more. But, I think that might be a good idea.” 

“What can we do?” Kyle asks, staring at Christine. 

She lets out a sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve helped hundreds of omegas in crisis and yet I don’t know why this case is so hard.” 

“This has become more personal than those cases.” John says. 

Christine’s shoulders slump even more. “I know. I try so hard but she’s just so...different from other omegas.” 

“This entire situation is different from what you’ve done before.” Kyle says. 

“You’re right.” Christine sighs. “The best we can do is let her lead. Do what she needs, give her what she wants. The worst thing that can happen right now is regression. If she regresses too far, we might never get her back.” 

“What is it? Tell me what ye need.” 

“Can you make me forget?” 

“I wish I could.” 

“Hit me hard enough on the head I might forget everything. Then we can all just start over.” 

“That’s not funny.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” 

“Kitten,” Johnny sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I wish I could make those thoughts go away. I wish I could make them mine.” 

“I killed people.” 

“I know.” He reaches out, touching your hand. “I wish ye didnae have to. Ye were just defending yerself. Those Shadows would have done worse to ye if ye hadn’t.” 

You curl up in your chair, turning away from him. “That’s not helpful.” 

“Sorry.” He says, letting out another sigh. “We just want to help ye.” 

You’re silent for a moment, sitting there listening to the waves. It’s cold this morning, not even the thick blanket draped over you offering much respite. It’s the first morning it hasn’t poured rain in days and you were determined to take full advantage of it despite the objections of your pack. 

“I know.” You finally say, staring out at the grey clouds looming on the horizon. The rain will return, just like the dark thoughts constantly swirling in your mind. They make you sick, nausea constantly churning in your stomach and threatening to rise. 

Johnny wraps his hand around yours, his palm warm against your cold skin. “Should head inside. Gonnae catch a cold.” 

“You know that’s a myth right?” You say, tilting your head to stare at him. 

“No it’s not.” He says, pulling your hand between his. “It’s not good for ye being out in the cold.” 

“I’ll live.” You say, trying to pull your hand from his, but he holds you firm. He’s stubborn, but so are you. 

“Kitten...” He says, almost whining at you. “Go inside please.” 

You let out a sigh, staring out at the horizon again. The clouds promise more rain soon, another downpour on its way. You hate it, how much it’s been raining. You just want to be outside, down at the beach, going on walks. Your pack won’t let you though, not while it’s raining, even though they often leave no matter the weather. 

It’s not fair. 

You’re not a fragile flower and you’re tired of being treated that way. Even though your brain feels like it’s in a blender constantly. Even though the pain of what happened still drives into you like a knife, you just want to be treated like a normal human being again. 

“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’ll go inside.” 

Johnny grabs your arm before you can head back in the door. “Ye know we just want the best for you.” 

You stare at him for a long moment, emotions swirling in your mind. They are trying. You’ll give them that credit. They’re trying, but not hard enough. “What you think is best and what’s actually best isn’t always the same.” 

He looks like a kicked puppy as he lets you go. You turn away before you can feel guilty, heading back inside the cottage. 

You pull the blanket tighter around you as you stare at the flickering flames in the hearth. The heat is intense so close, but it’s warming the chill under your skin. It’s getting colder at night, foretelling the upcoming winter. All the blankets in the world couldn’t fight off the chill that’s settled in you at night. You know what might help, but you’re not brave enough to approach that solution. 

The footsteps on the stairs don’t startle you in the otherwise silent house, the creak of them audible over the crackle of the logs in the fire. 

“I’d add another one.” A voice says from behind you. 

“I’m going to.” You say, reaching for the stack next to the fireplace. 

“Careful. Put it on the side.” 

“I know how to make a fire, thank you.” You snap, shoving the log in before moving it into place with the poker. “I’m not useless.” 

“Didn’t mean to imply you were.” It’s silent for a moment as you settle back into place. “What are you doing out here?” 

“I’m cold.” You answer simply, not feeling up to giving an entire expose on your current state of mind to the person you want to speak to the least right now. 

“We can turn the heat up more.” John says. “Whatever you want to be more comfortable.” 

I want you to leave. You bite your lip, suddenly not brave enough to say it out loud. 

They are trying. 

“Why are you down here?” You ask instead. 

“Couldn’t sleep so I came to get a snack.” He says. “You want anything?” 

“No.” You say quickly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. “I’m alright.” 

“You sure?” He presses, standing off to your right. 

You hesitate for a moment, curling your toes under the blanket as one of the logs snaps. It’s not food you need from him. Your appetite has decreased again with this new wave of horrible things plaguing your mind. You want answers. 

“I want to know why you decided to leave, why you went on that mission and left me when you knew things were not right.” 

John shifts on his feet behind you, the wood floor creaking just slightly. He’s silent for a long moment, so long you almost think he’s walked away. 

“I was too trusting. I got caught up in the mindset of a soldier and chose to trust my superiors when I knew I shouldn’t have. I wanted to send you somewhere else, to stay with Kate, but things didn’t work fast enough to make that possible. I shouldn’t have just left you there, even with Johnny and Simon. It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you stare into the fire. At least he knows he made a mistake. At least he thought up other plans, but that doesn’t excuse the fact he did nothing and just left you there so easily. 

Another question burns at the forefront of your mind. You think back to that conversation with Dr. Keller just a few days ago. You want to trust her, you know you can trust her. She’s given you no reason not to. She wouldn’t lie, even if the rest of your pack did. 

“You really didn’t leave me with Graves?” The words slip out before you can stop them, spilling forth from your lips, revealing part of those inner thoughts that have plagued you for the last few hours. 

“I would never have left you with him.” John says, the floorboards creaking as he takes a couple steps forward. “As soon as we found out we turned around and went to Kate’s safehouse. She was already looking for you. We did everything in our power to find you as quickly as we possibly could.” 

The tears start sliding down your cheeks as you sit there, taking in his words. They’re spoken with such conviction and match what Dr. Keller had told you. Some deep, dark part of your brain wants to think it’s all a lie that they’ve conjured to try and make you feel better about everything, to try and jumpstart the healing process. Yet, at the same time you want to believe they are telling the truth. 

Your other option is to trust Phil and what he said to you. For all you know, everything he said was a lie. Some sick justification to torture you as some kind of revenge towards your pack. Maybe it was all about revenge. 

Who can you trust more? Phil, or your alpha. 

Maybe if you had just held on a little bit longer. Maybe if you hadn’t believed Phil’s lie, you could have saved yourself the terror of letting your omega take over. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to take that risk and corrupt yourself with blood-stained hands. From what you can remember and have managed to weasel out of Dr. Keller, they were right behind you. A few more minutes and maybe none of it would have had to happen. 

Maybe you did do the right thing in the end. Phil might have ordered his men to kill you as soon as they arrived. Maybe they would have done it as soon as Simon and Johnny entered the room. Saving yourself might have been your only option. 

Those men would have killed you or worse. You did what you had to do. 

You’re shaking. The tears are cascading down your cheeks, warmed by the heat of the fire. You’re crying, your breaths nearly hyperventilating as you sob quietly. 

“Talk to me.” John says as he kneels down beside you. 

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, your knuckles white where they’re gripping the edges of the blanket. The words are coming out and you can’t stop them. Maybe it’s because deep down you remember the better times, when he was a comfort. Someone you could trust to catch you when you fall. “I keep seeing them, seeing what I did, what happened. I killed people.” 

“People that would have killed you without a second thought.” He says. “You were defending yourself in a situation where that was unavoidable. It’s not your fault. None of it is.” 

“She scares me, my omega.” Your inhale stutters. “She’s angry. She won’t settle. I’m scared I’m going to lose control and she’ll come out again.” 

“You’re not going to lose control.” John says. Despite the heat of the fire you’re not much warmer, a cold chill shooting through your veins. “If it were to happen, we’re right here. We’ll get you through it.” 

You stare into the flickering flames, your breaths slowly coming back down to normal. John sits there, as still as a tree. You don’t want him so close to you, yet you can’t deny how comforting his presence is. For the first time in a while you don’t feel quite so out of control.

“Can we ever move past this?” You ask, your voice quiet and broken.  

“I like to think we can.” John says. “It won’t be easy, but if that’s what you want, we sure as hell will work to make it happen. Things won’t go back to the way they were, and they shouldn’t. You deserve better than what we gave you.” 

You don’t respond because you can’t. His words float around in your mind, replaying over and over. You want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him, but a deep part of you can’t. He’s made promises before and then broke them. How can you trust this time will be different? 

The creak of the stairs wakes you. It’s jarring, pulling you out of a sleep you didn’t know you were in. You’re on the couch in the living room, bundled under a blanket with a decorative pillow under your head. You don’t remember moving to the couch. The fire is nothing more than embers now, but it feels warmer in the house. It’s dawn, the grey light streaming in through the window, chasing away the shadows of night. 

“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice asks you. 

You groan, rubbing your eyes. “Fell asleep.” 

“On the couch?” 

“Think I was on the floor first.” You yawn, pressing your face back into the pillow. “Don’t remember getting to the couch.” 

“Why?” 

“Got cold.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you pull the blanket up higher. 

Simon lets out a sigh before moving around the couch to the fireplace. He adds a couple logs in before lighting it again, the fire crackling back to life. You’re half asleep already as another blanket is draped over you, tucked up around your neck. There’s a feeling of a hand brushing over your head, but that may have just been your imagination as you drift off back to sleep. 

You don’t get to sleep long, more footsteps coming down the stairs waking you. A hand does brush over your head this time, the scent of the beach filling your nose. You let out a groan, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets. 

“Sleeping out here this morning?” Kyle’s soft voice reaches your ears. 

You grunt, chasing the quickly fading edges of sleep in your brain. 

“Breakfast is ready, if you want to get up.” 

You are hungry. There’s a quiet rumble of your stomach as you begin to register the smells coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs and coffee. Johnny is making the coffee most likely. Maybe you’ll have some this morning. You might need it with how groggy you feel. 

You stretch out on the couch, trying to breathe some life into your limbs. It’s not the most comfortable couch, definitely not for sleeping, but it’s better than the floor. It was likely John that moved you. You’re not quite sure how that makes you feel. 

You don’t remember falling asleep after your little talk last night. You’re not sure how that moment of vulnerability makes you feel either. There was a time when you wouldn’t have thought twice about going to your alpha with such concerns and tumultuous feelings. There was a time when you would have sought him out for the comfort and stability you need right now. 

Things are different, though. Things have changed. 

You run a hand over your face, thinking back to the groggy conversation with Simon this morning. You’re not quite sure it even happened, or if you dreamed it. There’s two blankets on you, however, and you distinctly remember feeling the second one being draped over you. 

It’s a touching gesture from the specter in your life. Once again he’s been reduced to a shadow, a figure lingering only because he has to. The distance that had once been so close to closing has widened into an impossibly wide canyon. You’re not sure it’ll ever fully close again. Too much has transpired in such a short amount of time between the two of you. He’ll never forgive himself, and you’ll never be brave enough to force it again. 

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking from being stuck in one position for so long. You blink slowly as you sit there for a moment. It’s warm in the house, almost too warm now with your body warmed from sleep. Dr. Keller is sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her. Tea, most likely. Maybe coffee. You’re not quite sure. She gives you a soft smile as you rub a hand across your face again. 

You feel groggy as you push yourself up to stand, letting your stomach and feet guide you towards the smells coming from the kitchen. Kyle guides you to the table with a promise of making you a plate and you take your usual seat at the end of the table facing the kitchen. Dr. Keller is to your left this time, coffee in her mug judging by the smell. 

“How did you sleep?” She asks, her hands wrapped around the mug. 

“Fine. Got cold.” You say, resting your head in your hand.

“John turned the heat up a bit. We can get you more blankets if you need them.” Dr. Keller says. 

You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. You won’t complain about more blankets, more soft things to lay with. There is one thing you wish you had, though. You’re not quite sure how to ask for it, or that it would even be possible to get. 

You jump when a hand touches your back, not realizing you had even dozed off sitting there. 

“Sorry.” Kyle says, setting a plate on the table in front of you. “Food’s hot. You want coffee or tea.” 

“Coffee.” You say instantly, earning a wide grin from Johnny as he takes his own seat at the table. 

“Even split this morning.” He says cheekily, setting his own mug down. “Three against three.” 

“Tea is still the superior choice.” Kyle says from the kitchen. “Better for you anyway.” 

“Coffee has a lot of health benefits as well.” Dr. Keller says. “So long as you don’t add too much sugar into it.” 

“See.” Johnny says, giving them a victorious grin. 

“She said so long as you don’t put too much sugar in it.” Kyle says, carrying over your mug of coffee. “You’ll get diabetes from how much you add in.” 

“Two spoonfuls isnae too much.” He turns to look at Dr. Keller. “Is it?” 

Dr. Keller gives him a worried look. “You might be pushing it there.” 

Johnny’s grin turns into a pout. “What do ye mean?” 

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips as you quickly shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth. As much as the deep pain of trauma and their decisions ache in your chest, you have to admit you missed this. It’s the least tense you’ve seen all of them in the last few weeks. Even Dr. Keller’s shoulders don’t seem quite so squared as they have been. 

A part of you feels guilty about it. It is your fault deep down. You’re the one keeping them all on edge, driving that wedge between them over and over again. Deep down you’re the one causing the heavy weight that’s settled over the house. You wish you could just go back to normal, you wish you could just wave a wand and make yourself okay again. You wish you could ease their pain just a little bit. 

The eggs suddenly don’t taste quite so good anymore. 

You force them down regardless in favor of causing another scene, in favor of dragging the mood down. They deserve a little lighthearted moment after everything. They don’t need to know the inner turmoil plaguing your mind. 

Simon shifts next to you, his eyes darting to glance at your face. You can feel them, the intensity of his gaze just as sharp as it had been back in the beginning, back before he looked at you with fondness. He’s stiff as he sits there, almost as if he can sense the storm raging inside of you as you force yourself to pretend that you’re fine in favor of keeping the bright mood that’s settled over the table. 

Maybe he can sense it. He is an alpha after all. It’s his job to know, to understand. You glance across the table at John, his eyes on his phone as he sips his tea. 

Your gaze drops down to your plate as you pick up a piece of bacon, your heart shattering just a little bit more. 

“‘S too early.” You whine as hands pull the blanket off of you. Cold air nips at your skin, making you curl up in a ball. 

“It’s noon. Come on.” A hand closes around your arm, gently shaking you. “You want to get up.” 

You let out a whine, pinching your face up. “No.” 

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Kyle says, brushing the hair back from your face. 

“Why.” You say, letting out a huff. 

“We’re going on a little trip.” Kyle pulls you up, forcing you into a seated position. “Dress warm.” 

You’re alone in the room again, the door left open. Light streams in, making you squint against the harsh intrusion. A quick glance at the clock reveals it is, in fact, a little past noon. You took a nap to make up for a night of tumultuous sleep, one of the few things you have to do here in this prison. Nap and read. It’s a lot like your life before the cottage, before everything that happened, except now you’re stuck with your pack around you at all times. 

You almost miss the times they were away. 

You’re half tempted to go back to sleep, but you’re too awake now, and the light streaming in the doorway is making it hard. It was done on purpose, left that way to prevent you from falling asleep again. 

You let out a huff as you maneuver yourself so your legs dangle over the edge of the bed. You try to blink the drowsiness away, no matter how much your brain is trying to chase the last lingering threads of sleep quickly receding. The nap hadn’t been nearly long enough, but judging by Kyle’s eagerness, they let you sleep a bit longer than they wanted. 

You let out a sigh before pushing yourself off the bed, moving to the dresser. You pull out warm clothes, quickly changing. You have no idea what they have planned, what’s going on. There was no frantic rush, Kyle’s energy more excited than anything. It makes you a bit worried as you step out of the room into the living area. 

They’re all waiting by the door, watching you as you approach them, rubbing your eyes. 

“Come on,” John says, setting a pair of shoes on the floor. “Boots on.” 

“What are we doing?” You ask, moving forward automatically. 

“We’re taking a little trip.” Kyle answers, repeating what he told you in the room. 

You look at him cautiously as you step into the boots, pulling them on. You haven’t been away from the cottage since you arrived two weeks ago. You’ve barely been let outside, weather permitting. It’s an overcast day today, the world grey outside, but grey is better than rain. 

“Ready?” John asks as you stare at him. 

“I guess.” You say, still a bit hesitant. 

They make no effort to ease your discomfort and nerves. 

You’re led out the door and towards the cars by Dr. Keller. Her face is brighter than it has been lately which doesn’t help your nervous energy. She’s excited too, just like the rest of them. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Maybe it’s the anxiety of leaving after being trapped inside for so long. You just want to know where you’re going, what it is you’re going to be doing. 

Dr. Keller ushers you into the back seat of one of the cars, getting in the other side. Kyle and John climb into the front while Johnny and Simon get into the other car. 

You watch the green pass by as they drive, taking in the new landscape. You don’t remember arriving at the cottage. You don’t remember most of the trip at all. It’s all a blur in your memory, much like the events that transpired after your omega took over had been. You wish you could remember the trip over those events. You’d take green rolling hills over your own hands taking lives. 

It had been jarring waking in the cottage for the first time. A new place, the lack of memories getting there. You’re beginning to get tired of the pattern. You half expect to fall asleep and wake up somewhere new again most nights. You wouldn’t know any better. A slip of a pill into some food and you’d wake up somewhere halfway across the world. 

You like to think they’d at least warn you beforehand. 

John pulls the car into a parking lot, parking near a line of trees. Johnny pulls into the parking lot behind John, parking near the entrance. It’s on purpose, you know that much. Everything is about safety and making things look as inconspicuous as possible. Anyone could be a rat. Anyone could be watching. 

It’s windier here as you step out of the car, even though you haven't gone far from the cottage. Walking distance, if you were up for a hike. You’re not. 

“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, guiding you through the parking lot and towards a path. 

You still don’t know what’s happening as you follow them, Johnny holding your hand as you step onto the rocky path. He leads the way, the others following. John is behind you, hovering in case you slip in the gravel. You do your best not to, despite how quickly Johnny is leading you. He’s more eager than Kyle had been, and you’re sure he’d be running if you could keep up. 

You begin to figure out what’s happening as the sound of waves crashing on the shore gets louder and louder. Your chest starts to constrict with emotion as the trees start to get sparser and sparser, a cliff edge visible over Johnny’s shoulder. You want to run now, you want to break ahead and race your way to the edge of the cliff. Johnny, even in his excited state, would catch you before you could take off and potentially hurt yourself. 

You might hurt yourself just trying to run. 

You hate it. 

The land opens before you as you reach the edge of the cliff. The expanse of the sea seems daunting so close, grey and choppy from the wind. Salty air blasts you in the face, rustling your jacket as you stand there above a small beach. It’s empty, but that’s expected for late fall. All the tourists have gone home, those with vacation homes back in better weather for the winter. 

You’re glad you’re alone. You wouldn’t want anyone else ruining this moment. 

Kyle’s fingers wrap around yours as you stand there, staring down at the beach below. “Come on.” 

The gravel turns to dirt as it winds down the side of the cliff, getting steeper as you near the beach. You do nearly slip as you follow Johnny and Kyle down to the sand, your boots quickly getting muddy. You’re glad for them, understanding why John chose boots over more comfortable shoes. 

You pause as your feet sink into sand. You stare out at the water, at the white crests of waves crashing onto the shore. It’s real. It’s not just some mirage, some painting in the background of your life. It’s really here. You’re really here. 

No one says anything as you take a few steps forward before squatting down. You scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through your fingers. It’s coarse against your cold skin, thicker and rockier than the sand you’re used to, but it’s still sand. It’s still a beach. 

You’re at the beach. 

You scoop up another handful of sand, letting it run through your fingers again. You want to put some of it in a jar and set it on the nightstand at the cottage. You want to stare at it and remind yourself you’re really at the coast, you’re really just a short drive away from the sea. You want the sand to sink into your skin and flow through your veins and fill every crack that’s formed in your mind.  

You’re really here. 

You stand up straight, staring out at the water again. Your pack is still behind you, silently watching you. You shuffle forward a couple steps, waiting for one of them to stop you, to grab you and keep you from getting closer, but none of them move. You widen your steps, treading through the soft sand until you reach the edge of the wetter sand where the water was earlier. It’s easier to walk on as you continue to approach the water, the sound of your pack treading through the soft sand disappearing behind you as you get closer and closer to the water. The waves flow up the beach, your feet getting closer and closer to where that water stops. 

You half expect them to stop you as you step forward, letting the waves hit your feet. The salty water washes away the mud and sand clinging to your rubber boots, rushing up over the tops of your feet. You stare down at the water, watching it surge upward and around your ankles. You’d keep walking if you were brave enough, let it get higher and higher until it soaked your clothes, but you know they’d stop you. It’s far too cold to risk getting wet. You can feel the chill of the water through your boots as it flows over your feet. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there, watching the water rush back and forth, feeling the pressure of it against your boots as you stand in the waves. You’re really here. You’re really standing in the sea. 

You finally turn after what seems like an eternity, making your way back up to the softer sand. All of them are standing in a line, watching you. You wonder what’s going through their heads, what they feel standing here. Relief? Happiness? Guilt? Shame? The wind whips at your back, coming right off the water, blowing their scents away from you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to smell them right now. 

Tears burn your eyes as you make your way up towards John, trudging through the sand. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold wind, his beard longer than you’ve ever seen it. You don’t remember the last time you’ve really looked at him up close. His gaze is uncertain as he stares down at you, trying to gauge your next move. He can’t. You know he can’t and it makes you feel powerful. 

It shouldn’t, but it does. 

“Thank you.” You say finally, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Thank you.” 

You can hear them. They don’t know it, but you can. They think they’re speaking quietly, but in the silence of the morning, you can hear almost every word. Dr. Keller’s protests, John's quiet insistence. 

Leaving. 

That’s the word that caught your attention. Leaving. Someone is leaving. Someone is separating themselves from the pack again, and not just for a trip to town to go to the store. This meaning is different, it hangs differently in the air. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” Dr. Keller says, her voice just barely audible through the open sliding glass door. It’s open just a crack, just enough to hear what’s transpiring inside. 

“We won’t have another chance.” John says, his voice insistent. “We have to do this. She deserves it.” 

She. You. Whatever it is, it involves you. It always does. You can’t remember a time over the last few weeks when it hasn’t been about you. It’s always about you and you hate it. You almost wish things would go back to the way they were before, when you were a second thought, the one left behind.

You’re going to be left behind again. 

“John-” 

“I know.” John’s voice is louder again. “We have to do what’s best for our pack, and right now this is it.” 

The sliding door opens, the conversation over. Your stomach is churning, nausea eating its way up your esophagus as John crosses the deck towards where you’re seated. His steps are slow and quiet, almost like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might be, depending on how this conversation is going to go. 

How are you going to react? You expected it eventually. They’ll always leave, they’ll always put you last and think about themselves first. Are you upset? Are you angry? Is it a relief? 

You wish you could feel something right now. Instead you feel numb. Another promise broken, another lie told. 

“You’re leaving again.” You say, staring out at the horizon as John takes a seat next to you. You need to get it out first, say what you know before he can say it and break your heart again. 

He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in the chair. “We are, but you’re coming with us.” 

You turn to glance at him, taken aback by his words. You’re leaving too? You hadn’t considered this. The cottage is your prison. You are Rapunzel trapped by the Mother Gothel that is your pack, stuck in the tower for the rest of time. 

Leaving? 

“There’s something we need to take care of back in the states.” John explains. “You’re coming with us.” 

Back in the states? What could possibly be there that is left for you, for your pack? 

You don’t like the sound of that. You don’t like the sound of that one bit. 

NEXT ->

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[flemingology]

bundled up, pout and all ─ leah williamson x reader

in which: leah complies to wear the silly hat she knew she was going to get stick for

warnings: none, just fluffy :)

wc: 1K

a/n: based on this look. too cute I couldn't resist to write a blurb :(

“Put this on, babe. I don’t want you to get cold. Please,” you tried once more, met by another eye roll and a pout from your girlfriend.

Arsenal played the second leg of their qualifying round against BK Häcken tonight. Leah was ruled out due to concussion protocol, but she was cleared by the medical team to go watch in the stands — so she was adamant.

You had to pass this time, though. As much as you wanted to join your girlfriend and sit in the stands with her, you had to finish up on some things for work. You’d promised her you would watch the stream on tv, making sure to cheer for the girls — just as she requested.

It was a rather chilly night, though. The rain had been coming down in buckets throughout most of the day and there was a really cold breeze swiping through the air, making it slightly uncomfortable to be outside.

You had already managed to get Leah to wear a pair of earplugs, shielding her from the probably loud Arsenal fans she will be surrounded by — she might’ve been cleared to go see the game, but there was no harm in being careful.

The challenge you were facing now, though, was slightly bigger. You wanted Leah to wear a hat, to protect her from the cold — because you knew how she would be if she got a cold now while she was already sidelined.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the sexiest piece of clothing either of you owned but it would keep her warm, it would do the job, and you and her both knew she would pull it off anyway. She could pull off right about anything, let alone a slightly silly-looking hat.

“Babe, this thing looks so silly,” she grumbled in response, throwing her head back. You stepped closer to her and took her face in your hands, rubbing her cheeks affectionately. “I know, Le. But it’s for your own good. I don’t want you to catch a cold, especially now that you’re already sidelined,” you leaned in close to her ear and whispered the next part in her ear, “you and I both know how insufferable you get when you’re sick.”

Leah huffs but reluctantly tugs the piece of clothing out of your hands and puts it on, which causes a proud smile to spread across your face. “You look adorable. Now go, don’t be late,” you pressed a sweet kiss against Leah’s lips, which you wanted nothing more than to linger, but you knew this game meant a lot to her. You pushed a strand of hair that had escaped back under the hat. “I won’t be late. I love you,” she accentuated with a last chaste kiss before she was out the door.

You settled down on the couch with your laptop, waiting for the game to start while you got to work on some deadlines.

Deep into the second half, the camera had found your girlfriend and a couple teammates in the stands. You hadn’t noticed at first but a double take later, your eyes were attentively watching the screen. Your heart warmed at the sight of her, bundled up in a warm Arsenal coat, chatting away to Victoria and Steph. Much to your delight, you saw that she was still wearing her hat. You chuckled slightly, admitting that it wasn’t a particularly flattering item to put on her head — but if anything, you knew she wouldn’t be cold right now.

Before you knew it the game ended, sending Arsenal through to the group stages of the Champions League after a convincing 4-0 win against their Swedish opponents. You were happy for them, happy for Leah — she was gutted when she found out she couldn’t play this game.

The camera had found your girlfriend a couple more times post-game, some teammates making fun of the hat that was proudly sitting on top of their head — you’d seen the memes online comparing her to Smurfette and in all honesty, you found it quite funny too.

Before long, the coverage ended and you resorted to some binge-watching of a new show you’d discovered. You had a chunk of time to kill before your girlfriend would be home, knowing she’d probably hang around a bit longer than she should.

2 hours later, you finally heard a set of keys jingling outside your front door — signalling your girlfriend was finally home. You got up from the couch and turned off the tv, assuming she would probably want to head to bed immediately. You walked over from the living room to the hallway in a few quick strides. A bright smile crept onto your face when you saw your girlfriend, cheeks and nose rosy from the cold evening breeze.

“Hi baby,” she mumbled against your skin when you pulled her in for a hug. “Congrats on the win, Le. I’m so happy for you all,” you felt her chuckle against you, not making any moves to leave the safety of your embrace yet. “I didn’t have a foot in any of that today, but thanks darling. It means a lot.”

She pulled away from your hug and looked at you, eyes slowly narrowing. “This, though,” she starts and points at the hat on her head, before taking it off. “Never again.”

You bit your lip to try and hide the smile that was inevitably going to form. "Don't laugh," Leah countered before you had a chance to even say anything. "You looked adorable, Le," you tried to quip back but she didn't want any of that. "I didn't! People were making fun of it too, it was horrible," you would've thought she was being serious and genuinely thought it was horrible if it wasn't for the way the corner of her lip tugged up into a slight smile.

"At least you weren't cold, hmm," you said in your defense before you pulled her back into you and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. Leah went to deepen it, slowly manoeuvring the both of you so your back was flush against the wall, her hands roaming across your front. But you had other ideas. You sneaked under the arm that she placed against the wall to trap you in and started making your way upstairs, causing her to almost bump her face into the wall.

"Oi, that's not fair!" "Catch me if you can, Smurfette!"

[luvlyycy]

Y / N : A SUPER HOT MUMMY SORT OF TELEPORTED IN MY ROOM DO I FUCK IT

, , , , , , yes !

a / n : WELL WELL WELL AAA , MUMMY!CLOUD IS FINALLY HERE. this is probably the longest kinktober fic of all kinktober that i have haha... but!! hope you enjoy <3

kinks included ! <3 : hair pulling (m! recieving) , bath sex , very very subtle pain kink (m! recieving from hair pulling) , uhmmm? virginity taking? (m! recieving) , top! reader , hentai-ish plot , also reader is technically fucking somebody dead since Cloud's a mummy .

You stretch your arms above your head, yawning. It’s warm inside your apartment, a clear contrast to the soft raining outside.

You throw the blanket off your body, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

The only sound within the apartment is you making your way to your bathroom, you don’t even notice that something is following you until you turn around.

You let out a loud shriek, seeing the male in your bathroom- his skin is wrapped with what looks like bandages, a trail of sand behind him.

His eyes have a dim glow as he tilts his head to the side, a few pieces of spiky blonde hair peeking through the cracks of his wrappings.

“What are you doing in my house?!” you shriek, backing up into your cold wall, bumping your head against it.

“I… don’t know.” he croaks out, his voice barely above a whisper as he steps closer to you.

His hands are shaky as he reaches out to you, his screen incredibly dry— a few cracks on his showing cheek. The bandages stretch across his nose, loose around his neck.

You feel as though your heart may explode.

“W-Well, you can go home now!”

Seeing a hot mummy in your house wasn't on your halloween bucket list, but hey— blessings come in mystery ways.

Some sand trickles down from his fingertips before he speaks, “I don't… know where I am.” he manages out. He lowers his head to you as if he were embarrassed about it, “I-I don't know what to do.”

Well, you'll be damned. Maybe it's your kindness, or maybe it's because he's so damn cute but,

“You can stay.. I-I guess. But we have to wash that sand off of you!”

After a bit of struggling to remove his wrapping, he sits shyly in your tub— he looks a bit confused.

Pale skin slightly cracked in a few areas with what seems to be hardened sand between the cracks. He also has sand on his hands— that you're currently washing off.

"What's that?" he says, leaning closer to it, to seemingly sniff— "Soap." you respond, he manages out a quick, 'oh', before settling back into the warm water. You slide your soapy hands up his body and tangle them in his sandy, knotted hair. Jeez, boys can never take care of themselves. 

He stays perfectly still, almost like one of those cats who let the water run off their heads. You look at him, trying to put a name to his face.

“What’s your name?” you hum out.

“Cloud.” he whispers, eyes peering up at you despite the water running down his face. You frown at the running reminder that you haven't washed up either. He probably wouldn't mind, you hoped.

You hook your fingers underneath your sleeping shirt, pulling it over your head. Cloud makes a tiny noise, between a purr or a growl as he stares. You barely notice, shimmying out your pajama shorts— you never wear anything underneath when you sleep, so you just sit across from the thing in your apartment.

He's staring. Very intently.

"What?" you just assumed mummies weren't attracted to anything, or don't have dicks since most of their bodies are eroded anyway.

He spares a moment to choke out, "Beautiful," he inhales, dragging his fingertips up the front of your leg, "You're beautiful."

Cloud admits, he's never seen a woman fully naked until now. But you were practically Cleopatra in his eyes— your body looking incredibly soft compared to his cracked skin. It's driving a heat between his legs that he's never felt before. Instinctively, he grabs his growing cock— his face turning in discomfort as he does so.

You giggle, "Thanks. You're not so bad looking either." you then pour some of your soap on your hands, beginning to wash yourself.

"I don't— know, what's going on— but I think I have to get out."

"Huh? Why?" you question, genuinely concerned.

He looks between his legs, frowning heavily, "I'm... hard?".

You don't know what to say, your eyes widening as you let out a sound of shock, "You— have a cock?!" he groans, "Of course I do— It's just, never got hard!" he exclaims, clearly stressed.

"I don't know what to do! Do you?" he asks, shuffling in the tub— hands thrown up in the air.

"Well, ye-yes."

"Then, then do something." he quiets down, his hands shaking. It just keeps getting worse, he thinks, the more he looks at your body the harder his cock gets, "It, it hurts." he mumbles.

You scoot closer, "Does it?" he nods, you hum. You begrudgingly wrap your hand around his cock beneath the water. He lets out a tiny hiss, bucking up into your hand— in response, you slowly drag your hand up his cock then right back down.

He places the back of his hand over his mouth, sand messily falling from his palm, "That, that feels good—." he says, muffled.

You nod. You're sat awkwardly between his legs, jacking him off slowly with your dominant hand— "How, uh. How is this going to help?" he asks, "Once guys cum, they usually.— They usually get soft, which means it won't hurt anymore."

He nods, letting out another sound when you speed up, wrapping one of your hands loosely around his heavy balls. The soap from earlier already washed off your hands as soon as you dipped them in the water.

You watch Cloud's reaction, the blush on his face spreading unevenly due to his skin. It's also making you pretty aroused.

"I, I feel something—" he gasps, wrapping his hand around your wrist, "I- I think I'm going to, to cum." he gulps as he leans closer to you.

"It's okay, it's okay. Let it out. Cum as much as you need."

Oh boy, does he listen. He lets out a long string of moans as he just simply fucks up into your hand, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he does so. He cums so much, you can see it shooting out the tip of his cock in the water— you can tell it's thick.

You let him fuck out his orgasm until he's done, releasing his cock.

"Feel better?"

"Yes, yes I think so." he sighs, looking down at his cock....noticing it's still hard.

"Why.. is it still hard..?"

"Your dick probably wants more." against your better judgment, you climb ontop his lap finding his shocked face amusing. (:0)

"What're you doing?—"

"This way, we can, uh, both be pleased." you say, scratching at your cheek.

He nods, "Okay. Uhm, take the lead I suppose."

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, rubbing the tip around your messy folds before inserting it. As soon as the tip slips you in you remember a bit too late—

Cloud's a virgin. You're taking Cloud's virginity.

"Feels— aggh, feels so fucking— good." he's breathing heavy, dick already twitching inside of you. He looks up at you, pupils genuinely becoming hearts as he does so. You sink down more and you let out a satisfied sigh because of just how much, how well he fills you up.

He wraps his arms around your body, a few of the cracks on his face growing a dim pink color. Soon your pussy is swallowing all of his cock, bottoming out.

You place your hands on his face, leaning your forehead against his, "Am I the first girl you've ever fucked?" you raise your hips, "Fucked?" he responds, "If that's what I'm doing; yes." he sighs.

You slowly lower your hips earning yourself a strangled moan out of the mummy.

"Thrust up— like, like you were doing into my hand." you whisper against his lips and he quickly nods, obeying you and fucking up into you.

You moan against him as he does the same to you, clawing at your back, "It feels so good. I wanna cum s'bad— it feels so good so good." he repeats, letting out a groan you use your thumb to open his mouth and lick at his tongue. His tongue is warm and sort of dry, you note.

Oddly enough, you feel as though you're slutting the poor mummy out, his thrusts aren't that good but still his large n thick cock gets the job done.

You grasp his hair, pulling which causes his hips to stutter and let out a loud hiss, "I'm gonna— going to—"

"Cum, Cloud. Cum for me. It feels so good if you cum inside of me" you whisper against his neck, and he lets out multiple groans as he fucks his cock deeper n deeper into your cunt; cumming. The feeling of his thick cum filling up your pussy is enough to push you over that metaphorical edge.

You stay there for a moment, releasing his dirty blonde hair— his head falling back with his mouth open—

"Cloud..?" you ask, shaking him a bit, the cracks on his body leaking sand— "Nooo..." he groans, "...all my energy...is gone..." you giggle at this, finding him awfully cute.

You step off him and wrap yourself in a towel, "Well, how do you recharge?"

"......Coffin..." he replies.

You don't have a coffin, but maybe...

Cloud lays in the blanket fort you created for him, feeling a bit more energetic. "Soft coffin." he smiles, dragging his hand up your cheek as you lay beside him— the both of you still in towels, you're the only one still damp. I guess mummy skin absorbs water.

"Yeah, soft coffin." you giggle, looking at his eyes, then his lips. You press your head against his forehead before kissing him, giggling when he lets out a tiny squeak but kisses back.

[valkyrieromanoff]

BED CHEM (18+): JAMES KELLY X READER

summary: James is your neighbor at the trailer park, he sees you washing your trailer, and he offers to help. One hand washes the other, and you find yourself in a pleasant situation.

warnings: sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), semi public sex, porn without plot.

word count: 3.4 k

n/a: after making my dad watch 'American Heist' with me, for no other reason than to be able to watch Hayden Christensen for an hour and a half... I remembered why I have such a huge crush on this man, and poor James, he just wanted to open a mechanic shop, he suffered so much, poor thing.

anyway, I couldn't resist the opportunity to write something self-indulgent, so I hope you like it, comment if you liked it or if you would read a sequel? Kisses 💖

p.s: probably the most obscene thing I've ever written, but I liked it anyway

The sun blazed in a wide expanse of blue, with only a few wisps of clouds drifting lazily overhead. After days of relentless rain that left nothing but thick puddles of mud and a layer of grime clinging to every surface, the clear sky felt like a rare gift. It was the perfect day for a deep clean, to scrub away the muck that had built up around the trailer.

You sighed, glancing at the cluttered mess outside. Your mother had disappeared again, off to deal with whatever trouble your grandmother had stirred up this time, leaving you alone to face the chore. With a reluctant huff, you knew there was no escaping it; the task would fall to you, as always.

Changing into an old white shirt and a pair of faded blue shorts —clothes you didn’t mind soaking —you grabbed the hose and filled a bucket with water. The warmth of the sun kissed your skin as you stepped outside, your feet crunching against the gravel beneath you. You set the bucket down with a small splash and grabbed a sponge, beginning to scrub the window in steady, determined circles.

James lets out a low whistle, his blue eyes sweeping over you with a playful gleam. "Well, would you look at that," he drawls, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"James!" you exclaim, quickly crossing your arms over your chest, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. He must have snuck up on you; you hadn’t even heard him coming. "Do you always have to sneak around like that?"

He chuckles, his gaze never leaving you. "Can't help it, princess. You’re putting on quite a show." He takes a step closer, his lips curling into a grin as he licks them. "Why don’t you let me give you a hand?" His eyes dart to the trailer, where the mess still looms large. "Looks like you could use some help."

You huff, rolling your eyes. "Oh, really? And what do you know about cleaning?" You shoot back, eyeing him skeptically. James’s trailer couldn’t exactly be described as spotless—tidy at best. You can’t even remember the last time he gave it a proper clean; the rusty notes separating his trailer from the others speak for themselves.

He shrugs with a teasing smile. "More than you’d think, princess. And let’s be honest, you’re not gonna clean all this up on your own." He leans in a little closer, lowering his voice. "But I’m not doing it for free. I help you with the trailer, and you owe me one."

Your brow furrows, suspicion evident in your voice. "What kind of favor are we talking about?"

James grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Use that imagination of yours."

"I’m not helping you sell drugs, James," you snap, too quickly, not wanting any trouble with the police.

He throws his head back, laughing, his tattooed hand scratching the back of his neck. "Oh, come on, you think I’m that predictable?" He leans in closer, his grin widening. "I was thinking of a different kind of favor."

You feel a flush creep up your cheeks, catching his implication. "I’m not sleeping with you," you declare firmly.

He shrugs, the smug smile still playing on his lips. "Your choice. But just so you know, I can be pretty persuasive." He steps even closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing rumble. "And who knows, you might even enjoy it."

You chew on your lip, weighing your options. On one hand, you could definitely use the help with the trailer; on the other, making a deal with James Kelly, your older, flirtatious neighbor, seemed like a gamble. But then again, what choice did you have? "Fine," you finally say, meeting his gaze with a challenging look. "Just help me clean the trailer, and I’ll owe you one."

James grins, extending his hand with a playful flourish. "Deal, princess. Let’s make this place sparkle."

You uncross your arms, a smirk tugging at your lips as you bend down to grab a sponge from the bucket of water. Without warning, you fling it right at his chest, soaking his shirt. "Sparkle, huh?" you tease, before turning back to scrubbing the trailer window.

James looks down at the wet sponge now stuck to his chest, then back up at you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, look at that. Already trying to get me out of my clothes? I like the way you think.”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite yourself. “Keep dreaming, James.”

He chuckles, taking the sponge and slowly squeezing out the excess water, droplets trickling down his arm. “Maybe I already am, princess,” he teases, his voice low and suggestive.

He falls in beside you, picking up another sponge and getting to work. Despite his earlier teasing, he starts scrubbing with surprising efficiency, moving in smooth, quick motions. Every now and then, he throws in a wink or a cheeky comment, but he sticks to his word and focuses on the task at hand.

As the minutes pass, the two of you settle into an easy rhythm, working side by side in companionable silence. You have to admit, his help makes a huge difference; the work is going by much faster than you’d expected. And, despite your initial wariness, you find yourself… enjoying his company. There’s something unexpectedly satisfying about watching the trailer transform under your combined efforts, the dirt and grime giving way to a fresh, clean shine.

Maybe it’s the sun, or the unexpected teamwork, but for a moment, you almost forget why you were so hesitant in the first place.

At one point, you were hanging from the tire attached to the back door, cleaning the roof, your breasts pressed firmly against the trailer's frame through your clinging, soaked blouse. From this provocative position, your lush, round ass jutted upwards as you stretched to reach everywhere.

James, who had been cleaning the wheels, froze mid-scrub, releasing a low, appreciative whistle. "Now, that's a sight for sore eyes," he murmured, his gaze fixed and unwavering on your alluring display. He shielded his eyes with a hand, blocking the sun's glare as he continued to drink in the view.

You look over your shoulder at him. “James” you warned, trying to keep the amusement from leaking out of your tone. "Eyes on the wheels, I want them shining."

His smile was unapologetic as he responded, "I can't help it, princess. You're putting on quite the performance up there. I'd be a fool to miss it."

"Pervert." You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't deny the fluttering in your stomach at his words and the hypnotic cadence of his voice. Could these be the butterflies that books talk about so much?

James chuckled, his blue eyes finally returning to the task at hand, alighting on the underside of the trailer. "Guilty as charged, princess. At least I'm honest about it."

**

A while later, you hear James clear his throat below. “Hey, princess? Careful up there. I’d hate to see you fall and hurt yourself.”

You glance down, caught off guard by the unexpected softness in his voice. His usual playful grin is absent, replaced with a look of genuine concern that makes your heart skip a beat. “Oh, right, thanks” you reply quietly, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the sun beating down on your skin. Maybe there’s more to James Kelly than just the flirty mechanic.

You sit perched on the edge of the trailer roof, hesitating as you look at the ground. It suddenly seems a lot farther down than it did when you climbed up. You bite your bottom lip, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face.

“Um, James, can you help me down?” You ask shyly, a shiver running down your body as the suds drip down your wet breasts under your blouse, your peaks hard as the suds slide down your thighs. 

James's gaze hungrily devours your disheveled state, and he quickly nods in agreement. “Sure, princess. Just give me a second.”

He tosses the sponge back into the bucket and strides purposefully until he's directly beneath you. "Jump," he instructs, stretching out his arms. "I'll catch you."

You hesitate for a moment, biting your bottom lip, before taking a deep breath and stepping away from the roof of the trailer. James catches you easily, his firm, tattooed arms wrapping around you, holding you against his chest. He keeps you pressed against his body, and you can't help but feel the hardness pressing against your belly.

He sets you down gently, but his arms linger, his eyes dark with desire as they meet yours. "Are you okay, princess?" he asks in a hoarse voice.

You nod, unable to speak as you stare at him, your heart pounding. He leans in closer, his lips inches from yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face, and you lean in as well, eager to taste his lips.

But as he's about to kiss you, he abruptly pulls away, a wry smile on his face. "I told you I could be persuasive," he says, releasing you and taking a step back.

You blink, surprised and embarrassed by his sudden withdrawal. "W-what?" you stammer.

He turns back to the trailer, flashing you a nonchalant grin. "Nothing, princess. Let's get back to cleaning."

Your cheeks burn, though you can’t tell if it’s from the relentless sun or the shame of almost getting caught staring at James's lips, imagining what it would feel like to kiss him. Your thoughts are a jumbled mess, your heart pounding with a mix of embarrassment and something else you don't want to admit. You turn back to the task at hand, scrubbing the trailer window with renewed intensity, channeling all your frustration and confusion into making the glass spotless.

You can feel James’s gaze on you, a quiet heat that only makes your pulse race faster. The air seems thicker somehow, the sun hotter, and you focus on the steady, rhythmic motion of your hand against the glass, willing yourself to ignore him.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs softly, his voice carrying over the sound of the water splashing against the trailer.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. Your cheeks flush deeper, and you feel your heart hammering against your ribs. You risk a glance over your shoulder, catching the look in his eyes—intense, sincere, with a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

The unexpected compliment sends a flutter through your chest, and you swallow hard, trying to steady your nerves. You force a smile, though your voice wavers slightly as you respond, “You’re not so bad yourself, James.”

He grins wider, clearly amused by your flustered reaction. “That so, princess?”

You roll your eyes, trying to regain your composure. “I meant your help,” you add quickly, turning back to the window. But you can’t quite shake the feeling that, for a moment, he’d seen right through you —to the thoughts you’d been trying so hard to hide.

"This scorching New Orleans sun doesn’t give you a break," you complain, the sweat glistening on your forehead, a testament to the unyielding heat that envelops you like a suffocating blanket. You feel as if you're a lump of ice melting under the oppressive, steamy air, and you can't help but loathe the climate in this state.

Seeking respite from the incessant heat, you grab the hose, lifting it over your head, and let the cool water cascade over your body. The water clings to your skin, your clothes molded to your curves like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. Your breasts, heaving with each breath, are clearly visible through the wet fabric, while the shorts cling to the lush curves of your ass.

James's eyes widen as he takes in the sight, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard, the desire in his eyes unmistakable. "Fuck, princess. You're killing me here," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

You look up at him, a coy smile playing on your lips, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Am I?" you tease, allowing the water to trickle down your shirt, tracing the lines of your breasts and hips, eliciting a low groan from James.

He runs a hand through his dark, damp hair, his face flushed with desire. "Yes, you fucking are," he states, taking a step closer to you. "You know what you're doing to me, don't you?"

You tilt your head to the side, feigning innocence, your eyes flickering with a hint of playfulness. "I have no idea what you're talking about, James," you lie, biting your lip to keep from smiling.

James's patience snaps, and he reaches up, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you roughly against his body. "Didn't anyone teach you that lying is bad, princess?" he growls, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

You gasp as you feel his hardness pressing into you once more, the sensation intoxicating. James takes advantage of your open mouth, crushing his lips to yours in a hungry, demanding kiss. You surrender to him, kissing him back fiercely, your bodies pressed tightly together. In the midst of this passionate embrace, you lose your grip on the hose, allowing it to slip from your fingers and clatter to the gravel below.

James grabs your neck from behind to deepen the kiss, his tongue meeting yours, you gasp at the sensation, his other hand coming down to grip your waist. You moan against his mouth, your body arching into his as his hand on your waist slides down to cup your ass, pulling you even closer. His thumb hooks into the waistband of your shorts, tracing the edge of your panties and sending shivers down your spine.

He breaks the searing kiss, his lips trailing a torturous path down your jaw and along the sensitive skin of your neck. He nips and sucks, each touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "Fuck, princess," he growls, his voice a husky rumble. "You taste so good."

You tilt your head back, offering him full access to your vulnerable neck, your body writhing against his in an urgent, desperate need for more. "James," you gasp, your hands clawing at the muscles of his back. "Please..."

He groans, his hand sliding lower, his fingers pressing against the front of your shorts, the thin fabric the only barrier between him and your needy core. "Please what, princess?" he whispers, his finger teasing you, rubbing in slow, maddening circles. "Use your words," 

"Touch me," you beg, your eyes fluttering shut as you're consumed by the swell of pleasure. "Please, touch me."

The air is thick with the heady scent of lust, and the tension between you both is palpable, begging for release. James's fingers tease you mercilessly, prolonging your agony as he decides to what extent he'll indulge you. The anticipation is as much a part of the pleasure as the touch itself, leaving you trembling and needy.

He chuckles, a low, carnal sound that sends shivers down your spine as he unbuttons your shorts with practiced ease. His hand slides inside, gently pushing your panties aside to reveal your bare, wet flesh. His fingers brush against you, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.

“Like that, princess?” he asks, his voice dripping with seduction as he slides a finger into your slick, heated core. You cry out, the sudden invasion making your knees buckle. James reacts quickly, wrapping his arm around your waist, steadying you as he continues to pump his finger in and out of your quivering depths.

His thumb circles your clit, adding another layer of pleasure to the sensory overload. “Yeah, just like that,” you sigh, your hips undulating in response to his skilled touch. “Oh God, James, yes…” 

He claims your mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue dueling with yours as he devours your moans. You’re at his mercy, your body responding to his every touch. He adds a second finger to the first, stretching you and increasing your pleasure, each thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

 Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, leaving you breathless and aching. Your eyes fly open, confusion etched across your face as you stare up at him. “Why did you stop?” you ask, your voice thick with desire. James’s smile is both wicked and knowing, his eyes filled with the promise of more pleasure to come.

He grins wickedly at you, licking his fingers clean, his eyes gleaming with desire. "Because, princess, I want to taste you when you cum," he explains, his voice a sultry rumble. Without warning, he drops to his knees in front of you, the swift motion of pulling your shorts and panties down leaving you momentarily breathless.

You're too stunned to protest as his face buries itself between your legs, his talented tongue delving deep into your slick folds. A moan escapes your lips, and you find your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as he maneuvers one of your legs over his shoulder, gaining a better angle to feast upon you.

James grips your thighs, holding you steady as his tongue explores every inch of your wet, quivering core. He sucks and licks with relentless passion, each movement pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your breath comes in short, frantic gasps as you grind against his face, the pleasure building to a crescendo.

"James, oh god, James, I'm gonna cum," you moan, your fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place as you're on the brink of release. He growls against your sensitive flesh, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine and sending you careening over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as waves of ecstasy crash over you.

James doesn't let up, continuing to lavish attention on your spent form, his tongue and lips teasing you until you're writhing and pleading for mercy. The sensation has become too much, your nerves electrified from the intensity of his ministrations. Finally, he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Delicious," he murmurs, pulling you into a searing kiss, allowing you to taste the sweet evidence of your pleasure on his lips. You melt into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you return the kiss, still riding the high of your orgasm. When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your eyes closed as you catch your breath.

"That was... intense," you whisper, a small, satisfied smile gracing your lips. James chuckles, his fingers gently brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. 

"That was just the beginning, princess," he promises in a low, dangerous voice. "We're just getting started."

It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, the intensity of the moment leaving you slightly dazed. You're grateful for the early hour and the fact that your neighbors aren't home, the knowledge adding a thrilling layer to the already sensual encounter. You pull your panties and shorts up, a soft moan escaping your lips as the fabric brushes against your still-sensitive flesh.

You turn to James, your voice husky from the recent pleasure. "Thanks for helping," you mumble, grabbing the bucket and sponge, your movements slightly unsteady. You walk past him, your hips swaying in a way that you're sure doesn't go unnoticed, and enter your trailer.

James watches you go, a mix of confusion and frustration etched on his face. He runs a hand through his hair, muttering a curse under his breath. "Well, fuck it," he says to himself, his gaze sweeping over the now-clean trailer. With a shake of his head, he gathers his belongings and heads back to his own trailer, leaving you to ponder the unexpected turn of events.

As he walks away, he calls out, his voice carrying in the quiet morning air, "See you around, princess!"

You don't respond, leaning against the door you've just closed, your heart pounding in your chest. What had just happened? You hadn't intended for things to go this far, but somehow, James had a way of making you lose control. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You knew you needed to figure out what you were going to do about James Kelly.

One thing was certain: he wouldn't leave you alone any time soon, and the anticipation of the future interactions left a tantalizing tingle in your core.

[leviathanlazarus]

In Your Fantasy

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~5300

Warnings: semi-public sex (like...very low-key), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex. 18+ only ~

This took me forever to finish because I started it before my stupid tonsillectomy and I was totally useless throughout most of the recovery. Also, it's been absolutely ages since I wrote a Jake x Reader fic so I'm not sure how I feel about it...I really enjoyed writing this regardless of my trepidation though. I loved the idea of falling in love with him at work and him being so cheeky...hope you enjoy it too <3

P.S. also ages ago, I wrote a Josh x Reader fic that also took place in a library which you can read here. Links on my desktop masterlist aren't active for some reason...but I found it using a certain tag lmao. If you know, you know.

---

You were finishing up fixing the order of some art books in the back of the library when you felt Jake come up behind you. “Wanna hear something kind of crazy?” he whispered in your ear, his chin nearly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against yours. Without even seeing him, the closeness and warmth of his body and the low, husky whisper sent a tingle up your spine–he certainly added a level of intrigue to working in a library. 

“Always,” you said, slipping the last book into the correct spot. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon–you’d thought it’d actually be busier given the rain that kept bucketing down outside, creating an even cozier atmosphere, but maybe people just wanted to stay home with their books instead. That was fine by you. You liked it when it was nearly dead silent throughout the building and Jake was there to occasionally break through, his voice a river through your thoughts and his subtle touches all shockwaves to your heart. 

When you turned around to face him, Jake looked like he was holding back a hilarious joke or something, eyes all eager and a grin tight on his lips like he was bursting at the seams. “So I just went to the bathroom and guess what I heard?” he went on, raising his eyebrows. 

You scrunched up your nose, already worried. This wasn’t what you were expecting when he’d said ‘something crazy.’ What sort of craziness happened in libraries anyway? “There are a lot of things I can think of. Is this a gross story?”

Jake chuckled. “It depends on your definition of ‘gross.’ Okay,” he said, looking around to make sure you two were still alone in the section. Then he looked into your eyes again and lowered his voice even more to tell you, “There were people fucking in there.” 

You scoffed, offended on behalf of the library–the sacred, beautiful space where people went to relax and read, not deal with lewd conduct. That wasn’t crazy, that was just offensive! “What, like two guys?” you questioned, tilting your head, a little irked at Jake finding this all so funny. 

“No, a guy and a girl.”

“Ugh. That’s even worse. Women shouldn’t have to deal with getting laid in a men’s bathroom,” you said, then were momentarily distracting yourself with yet another out of place book on the shelf.  “I’d never do that. I can’t believe someone else is. I mean, kids go here.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jake said slowly. He leaned against the bookshelf and looked at you pointedly, his dark eyes even darker in the dim light. “Then again–”

Before he could finish, you had another thought. “Wait, Jake–did you say anything to them?”

“No. What could I say? I just high-tailed it out of there as soon as I heard.”

You sighed. The whole thing would be far more redeemable if your boyfriend had at least tried to throw out some warning words to the perpetrators. “You should have told them to stop. I would have.”

“I’m sure they finished soon after I left.” He smirked. “It sounded like they were pretty close.”

You groaned quietly and turned away, preferring to find another thing to busy yourself with now. “Gross. They should be banned.”

Jake followed along right at your side as you whisked through the rest of the art section and back to the cart you needed to empty. “I didn’t see who they were, so no chance of that.” At the cart, he put his hands on it, keeping it in place. “I actually thought you’d find it sort of amusing, Y/N.”

You leaned over, almost close enough to touch your noses together. “You’re such a guy. Only a guy would think it’s amusing and not disgusting.” 

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a little stuffy,” Jake replied, tilting his head up as if he were challenging you. “Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’ve never done anything like that.”

You scoffed again and leaned back, surprised and still a little irritated, but also genuinely curious. “Oh, so you want to fuck around in a public place? That’s something I didn’t know about you.”

Jake’s challenging stance turned crestfallen, and he lifted one of your hands to press a kiss to. “Forget I said anything about it. I mean, I suppose you’re right–it is kind of gross.” He kept your hand clasped in his for a few seconds as he said, “But I’d never make love to you in a public bathroom. I’d hope you know me better than that.”

You looked over your shoulder at the sound of a man clearing his throat, settling down into a chair with a newspaper. He wasn’t paying any attention to you or Jake, but you gave the cart a push anyway, cajoling Jake off it so you could navigate to where you needed to go next. 

“It’s really the fact that it’s the bathroom that makes it so gross,” you whispered as Jake kept following you. You couldn’t deny you’d had some secret fantasies about getting it on in the library–after all, it was where you and Jake had met and where you continued to spend the most time together. But none of your fantasies included the restrooms in the hall, or the utility closet or that little corridor tucked away across from the restrooms where the vending machines were. Too grody, too cramped, too obvious.

“At least our bathrooms are clean.” Jake parked himself right next to you once you were in the biography section, and when you stepped away from the cart, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place. “But if I’m being really honest, I have thought about us, well, fooling around here. I think it’s quite surprising we never have.”

“Jake,” you said in an attempt to protest, but his sweet, pretty face and ticklish touch on your waist made you giggle, and his confession that echoed your own secret thoughts lit a little spark. “We work here!” 

“So? All the more reason. It’s always been our special place.” Jake smiled as he got even closer to kiss you; you kissed him back, looping your arms over his shoulders. He was smiling even bigger when you both broke away and he said, “You know, it’s just me closing tonight. You should stay after with me.”

“God, and do what?” you replied, but, despite yourself, you were growing more intrigued. 

“Well, don’t you think the study rooms here are nice and cozy?” Jake questioned, still latching himself to your side as you started to put more books away. “There aren’t any cameras in any of them either. No one would know.”

You looked up at him from your crouched position, sliding a book into place. “Someone would know. Someone would find out somehow.” You were quickly finding even more perfectly good reasons in your mind not to do this, to not even really toy with the idea, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought, why not? Could the risk make it more fun? Even just the new, ill-fitting, sort of scandalous environment? 

Besides, Jake really did look hot today. He looked hot every day, but the second you’d seen him after he’d come into work earlier, he’d lit a fire in your belly that was more intense than usual. His hair had the perfect level of slight messiness and the relaxed black button-down shirt was perhaps one or two buttons shy of being overtly inappropriate for work; the smooth tan skin of his chest exposed and acting as a lovely backdrop to the long silver chain dangling, the pendant hitting his sternum. You could imagine tugging on that chain, grasping the pendant in your palm, to pull him closer while he pressed you against one of those thick wooden tables. You’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him in the frozen silence, and maybe no one would ever know after all.

“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Jake remarked, tapping your forehead once you were standing again. “You know you want to.” 

You let out an inadvertent nervous giggle and rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”

Jake stepped closer, pressing you back against the cart of books. “I’d love to hear some of those thoughts,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.

“You’re lucky it’s dead here today,” you said, keeping your voice a whisper despite the, indeed, dead library around you. You rested your arms over his shoulders, twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers; Jake just kept looking at you with that sweet, silently begging gaze until you giggled, relenting. “Okay. I was, um…thinking about you pushing me down on one of those big tables.”

Jake’s eyebrows rose. “What else?”

“Well…” you began, looking down at his dark jeans rubbing against your skirt. “You’re giving me some more ideas now.” You lifted one foot off the floor to rub your calf over his, the delicate material of your tights creating subtle but scintillating friction against his denim. 

Jake ran the tip of his nose up your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Same here.” 

Just as you were closing your eyes and allowing yourself to let your environment fall away around you, to forget about all the risk of being caught right there, and just as Jake’s hand was sliding down between your legs, a person’s incredibly soft–thanks to the clever carpeting job–footsteps headed your way yanked you right out of the moment.

Jake, too. He shot back and cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and looked in the direction of the footsteps; you did too, and soon enough an older woman with her nose already in an open book trotted past the shelves. 

“See?” you whispered, gesturing at the passer-by who was already out of view. “It’s so easy to get caught.”

“Please, that lady didn’t notice a thing. Alright,” Jake said before he stole one last hurried kiss. “I should let you keep doing your job and I should carry on with mine. But will you stay after with me tonight?”

You pursed your lips as you looked at him, considering, but it wasn’t long before you said, “Alright, Jake. I’ll stay after and we can play out your little fantasy.”

“It’s your fantasy too, baby doll,” Jake said with a wink before he half-turned, beginning to step away. “I think we’ve established that.”

-

There wasn’t a whole lot to keep your mind occupied as the afternoon carried on. The rain kept coming down, hammering hard against the roof and windows, and the sky outside was pure gray, all flat and blank. It reminded you of your first day working here, as a matter of fact–that morning in the previous late October, when autumn’s chill was officially in the air. A fine layer of frost had even been on the ground that morning; your shoes had crunched over it on the short walk to your car and you’d had to use your defroster once you turned the key, your anxiety peaking as you had to wait even longer to start the new job. 

How could such a quiet, peaceful place encite so much anxiety anyway? You remembered wondering that very question as you walked over the sidewalk to the library entrance for the first time since being hired, the concrete slick with that morning frost and the beginnings of a gentle rainfall. And just when you’d been settling in and getting comfortable, Jake had showed up and introduced himself, all casual and easy like he didn’t know he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

Thankfully, Jake was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. It didn’t take long before his beauty and charm stopped intimidating you and instead just made you feel all light and full of joy–you were simply happy to chat with him whenever you both could spare a few minutes. Those few minutes steadily turned into shared breaks; then, shared lunches where you’d sit out back on the one picnic table when the weather permitted. Then he started bringing you special treats sometimes, things he knew you liked because he actually listened about what you liked, and then after that he started bringing you whole lunches packed with love and care that you’d never experienced before. 

So, after all that, was it really such a big deal to make love inside the place in which you fell in love?

None of your other coworkers even seemed to notice that you were staying later than planned this evening. But, just to be safe, you also made a point to hide out in the kid’s section when closing time crept up, busying yourself with cleaning up stray crayons and markers and then browsing through some of the newer picture book additions when you were done with that. 

When you were sliding one picture book back onto the shelf and reaching for another, you noticed the part of the library beyond the kid’s section dim; you stood up and walked out into the main area, and there Jake was behind the checkout counters flipping switches.

“Despite almost always being the one to close,” he said, flipping another switch. “I still sometimes forget which lights actually get turned off and which ones stay on.”

A path of yellow light led the way past the checkout and reception, past the few rows of public use desktop computers. Jake held your hand as you both stepped through the library, your heartbeat speeding up a bit with nervous yet delightful anticipation; a few more steps and you were further into the very back of the library, just about there. Four study rooms were staggered just beyond the teen reading section, two on the left and two on the right with a wall of windows in between. 

Jake opened the door to the last study room on the right. A large window was in there too, soaking in the deep sunset that was resting beyond the grass outside and the trees, and the mostly-bare branches of all the trees were throwing shadows across the library grounds. Then Jake flipped the light on, making it all disappear.

“Oh no,” you said, reaching behind him to flip it off again. “It’s sort of magical with the light off. Look at that sunset.”

Jake followed your gaze out the window to the wash of deep blue painted across the sky, nighttime so early in autumn that only a slight sliver of golden-orange remained just on the horizon. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and had left a lingering mist on the ground, its faint haze trailing along just outside the windows–the whole scene was so much more peaceful than what was going on inside your head. You couldn’t shake the possibility of getting caught even though Jake was right about there being no cameras back here, and there was no one else around, not even any of the custodial staff, and not a soul out there in the fog. Just you and Jake in the little dark study room, his hand still warm around your own.

Your thoughts started to drift away, making space for your mind to comprehend the shadowed image of Jake before you as he gently turned you to face him. He smiled with the slightest bit of white teeth gleaming between his full lips, and you instinctively smiled back, pulled under his charm again. So, now effortlessly charmed and put at ease, you wrapped him in your arms and pulled him close, caressing his shoulder blade with one hand and the slight curve of his waist with the other as both of your smiles disappeared into a kiss. 

“You were making me crazy all day,” he remarked between the kisses that accelerated with both of your lips parted and the wet meeting of tongues. 

“Really? You kept it well-hidden.” Of course Jake did–you never doubted his affection and passion for you, but he kept everything so private. It was one of the many things you liked about him. You cupped the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just the way he liked it, and kissed him again.

“God, your ass in this skirt,” Jake said, voice a little rough, and he reached down to grab you there. “The way your hips move.” He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face. “So unbelievably pretty.”

You held the side of his face. “You are too, Jakey.” He really was, and even in the dark–perhaps especially in the dark, actually. The shadows enveloped him in even more mystery than normal, but you could still so plainly see the angles of his face and the smoothness of his skin in the faint, distant glow of the lingering sunset. Jake smiled at the sound of that little nickname coming from you, then disappeared as he pressed his lips to yours again and pushed you back against the table just like in your little fantasy. 

You felt the warmth of his hand travel around your hip then slide down over your skirt; you kissed him harder and spread your legs a little wider when his fingers skated effortlessly up your thigh over your tights. Jake purred against your mouth as he traced the seam of those tights, and subsequently the crotch of your panties beneath, with one fingertip, and your own hands hurried down his body with much less grace to squeeze his ass and feel the hardness between his legs as reciprocity. 

Before you could do much more than that, he was pushing your skirt up all the way with one hand and continuing to use the other to tease you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were finding yourself trying to stay silent despite the library being completely empty; Jake carried on with longer, deeper touches over the crotch of your panties and tights. The steady back and forth of his fingers over the two thin layers of fabric sent a delightful tingle of pleasure up your spine but you couldn’t forget his either–you kept that one hand of your own on his crotch too, gently squeezing his erection through his pants.

Jake huffed softly and kissed you again; you clutched his arm with your other hand, squeezing his bicep. Maybe other people didn’t mind getting caught–maybe there really was some sort of thrill to it. Maybe other people actually sometimes wanted others to witness their most intimate moments but you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine doing this with the lights on in the middle of the day, with the soft noises of people beyond the walls and the risk of someone catching a glimpse from opening the door or from outside the windows. You were perfectly happy with having Jake all to yourself in the shadowed little square study room, his skin so perfectly warm, his kiss so perfectly molded to yours.

“Was this part of your fantasy?” Jake questioned as he slowly sank to his knees, keeping your skirt bunched up over your hips with both hands now. But it was obvious what he was doing, so you took their place to keep it out of the way while his hands squeezed your thighs as he pressed his face between your legs.

The scant sharpness of his teeth over your crotch made you gasp. “Maybe,” you answered, thighs quivering against the table behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jake beckoned, looking up at you with a sweet but slightly mischievous gaze, his eyebrows raised just enough to display teasing curiosity. 

“Seems like you already know,” you replied, stifling a giggle at him struggling to get your tights down from beneath your skirt. 

“I don’t know how you wear these things,” he remarked, which made you actually let out a laugh.

“Just rip them for fuck’s sake,” you instructed, eager now, already wet for him. “They’re not expensive.”

Jake didn’t hesitate. “If you insist,” he said as he grabbed a fistful of black nylon in each hand and ripped the tights right open, then quickly pulled your panties to the side next, giving you no time to think at all anymore. Whatever words your mind may have found merely turned to shaky breaths as you watched Jake’s face disappear between your legs again.

He gave a little hum just as he went straight in, the bridge of his nose rubbing up against your clit while he dove his tongue into your center like he really did want to eat up all the arousal that had been conjured up just for him. Your fingers found his hair again, knuckles curling to tug the long strands while your nails scratched his scalp again and he let out a little pleased sound, almost like a gratified laugh, and dug his own blunt nails into your inner thigh as he kept you spread open. 

One word finally emerged from your lips–Jake’s name, simply spoken in a soft tone as the ministration of his tongue and lips had you squirming and quivering even harder, your heels digging into the carpet below as you slightly struggled to stay upright. The repeated flicks of tongue over your clit disappeared for a brief moment, then slowed to one long drag of his tongue over your center just to start that quick pace again. Sighs and whimpers were dragged out of you with each lick; when Jake slipped two fingers in, the slow but easy stretch made you tremble and clench your fingers into his hair even harder.

“You’re so tight,” he commented when he pulled back just enough for you to look down again and see your own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. You could feel it too, how much tighter you were clenching around his fingers as he gently thrust them and teased, curling them and now rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“You’re so good,” you told him breathlessly, closing your eyes again when the sensations had you arching your back. You hissed and bit your lip when Jake’s mouth found you again, his tongue teasing your clit more while he slid his fingers in deeper.

You had thought it would take more of a conscious effort to relax in this space and just let go, but it was easy, so easy–you just let your body respond to Jake with each tremble and moan and gasp and tug at his hair until your legs were outright shaking. Panting, the peak rising deep inside, you pulled him closer and he obliged, sucking on your clit as his fingers curled and gently tugged deep inside you too as if he was literally trying to pull you right to the edge you were already rapidly careening to.

His name from your lips once more wasn’t a soft little sigh; it was a sharp, long whine that seemed to boom in the little study room. Your ferocity surprised you even more when the overstimulation came on so soon and you yanked his head back with one hand and shoved him away with the other, your hand gripping his shoulder. Panting, eyes still shut, you could feel how much wetter you were with his saliva and the rush of your orgasm, the fluid soaking your panties that were pulled to the side and even the very inside of your thighs. 

Jake pressing a kiss to your thigh made you look down but he was getting up on his feet now; your gaze followed the steady movement of his rise and then you were whisked away into blissful darkness again when he closed in and kissed you–close-lipped because he was so polite. But you parted yours and slid your tongue over his and gripped his waist tight for a moment before hastily getting those buttons on his shirt undone, fingers trailing all the way down to get his pants undone next. 

He tentatively pushed you back onto the table a bit more so your feet were off the floor, legs still spread wide around him and dangling when he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to reveal that heated hardness. His cock leaked just a bit as he stroked it once, looking at you, and a blip of that old insecurity born from adoration and fascination stroked your brain, because Jake was just so beautiful and his beauty was so much more stark in contrast to the plain white walls behind him. 

“That was intense,” Jake said with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips as he slid the head of his cock all through your wet center, making a point to rub longer and harder over your clit. As he slid in, taking your breath away entirely, he sighed too and you watched his shoulders drop and his chest flush and he asked, so casually, “Is your fantasy being fulfilled?”

Even with the impact of Jake’s cock filling you so perfectly, you had to laugh. “You're a fantasy, Jake,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, to make the head of his cock hit so deep inside you that you gasped again as if you weren’t expecting the feeling. “What about–” You had to pause when Jake gave his first thrust. “What about your fantasy? This was all your idea.”

“It was a shared idea,” he reminded you with the cutest little smile. How could anyone be so sexy and adorable at the same time, especially during the actual act of sex, especially when that sex was taking place inside a public library? But he was, and you kept your eyes on him as he steadily sped up with his hips and his hands explored your body over your clothes, one squeezing your breast through your shirt and the other smoothing down your waist, your hip, traveling around your thigh.

“Oh god,” you chirped when Jake’s fingers made contact with your still-sensitive clit; but he was gentle, clearly deliberately being slow with the little circles he was making. With your arms still a loop around his shoulders, you sank your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there for a minute before the soft pink of his chest became too tempting not to touch.

“Fuck yeah, that feels amazing,” Jake said in that deliciously hazy, husky voice after you slipped your hands past his open shirt to toy with his nipples. Bringing more attention to him put your lingering overstimulation in the background–you continued to tease with one hand while the other skated over the other side of his chest, feeling his warm, soft skin, up to his neck. You caressed him there, your fingers lightly touching the tender skin along his throat and then up to his ear, and Jake moaned softly and tilted his head to try and get more contact.

That was fine by you. You lightly scratched behind his ear like he was a cat and he sort of purred like one anyway, making you giggle; Jake giggled too and surged forward, picking up his pace as he whisked you away with another series of kisses that were deep but just sloppy enough for your mutual moans to be voiced. 

But, also to your surprise, Jake began to voice more thoughts between increasingly ragged breaths: “Remember when we first met?” he asked, his fingers over your clit sliding down to get slick again from your own arousal. “That was–fuck, that was such a good day.”

“It was,” you agreed, playing with one of his earrings as your other hand squeezed his pec. “I’m lucky I even got the job here. For a lot of reasons.” You stole another lingering kiss before adding, “You’re the biggest reason.”

Jake smiled. The sunset that had been just barely clinging to life when you’d both began was gone now–the only illumination was coming from a parking lot light that was too far away from the windows to see, but the pale yellow glow was scant enough to see that alluring, mystical beauty that your boyfriend possessed. Just looking at his face was enough to make you come again.

But Jake’s skilled fingers and the heat, weight and stretch of his cock still thrusting into you certainly helped. You buried your face against his neck now that you had access to all of him; a thick sob was muffled as you tightened and spasmed around him, and you heard him let out a quiet “wow” as the second orgasm rolled through you. 

His fingers on your clit, thankfully, moved away. He gripped your thigh again instead; his pace was now messy and fierce, and you had to fight to stay in place not only from the harsh movements and how the table you were sitting on was skidding a bit across the floor, but also from that second round of intense bodily excitement. 

“God,” you huffed, stifling another laugh. Apparently it didn't matter where you were–if you were with Jake, he just gave you the giggles. “You’re really going for it.”

Jake cradled the back of your head, messing with your hair a bit. “And I’m–hmm–almost there.”

You kissed him softly and sweetly, from his collarbone and up his neck to his ear. “Good boy,” you whispered there, giving his ear a nibble. Jake moaned wordlessly in response and gave one last deep, solid thrust that jostled you backwards and made the table creak, then he went slack over you, his whole upper body all loose and so hot that warmth was radiating through his shirt.

When Jake lifted his head, you leaned back and waved the back of your hand over your forehead with a silly “whew” motion; Jake laughed and nodded, then slowly pulled out. He collapsed forward again, resting his head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him once more. 

“Well, we’ve done it once. Do we ever need to do it again?” you asked, petting his back.

“Like, um, sex?” Jake asked, mumbling against your chest. “Or sex in the library?”

“In the library, duh,” you said with a chuckle, and kissed him when he lifted himself up and looked at you. 

“Where else should we do it?” Jake replied, his tone and little smile making it obvious he was kidding–finally. You were glad to have played out this little fantasy and do something new and a little risky, but you’d be even more glad to just go back to the way things were. Nothing wrong with a classic. 

“Our bed, definitely,” you said, and Jake smiled and nodded again; you began working on buttoning up his shirt. “Our couch. The floor. Maybe the shower.” 

“Maybe?”

“Last time we tried the shower, you nearly cracked your head open,” you reminded him, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. “And nearly broke your perfect teeth.”

Jake’s smile grew wider. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d never forgive that stupid shower.”

Jake patted his hands from your shoulders down the length of your body, stopping at your ankles. “Well, babe, we’re both in one piece now, aren’t we? Time to close up?”

“Definitely. The custodians are probably going to be here any minute.”

“Oh my.” Jake held your hand to bring you off the table. “That would have been quite the show for them.” 

“No more shows,” you said as you both put the finishing touches on getting yourselves decent before Jake opened the door. “I should be the only one looking at you when we fuck.”

---

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can let me know here or DM me :)

Tagging: @kissingsun @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @milojames16 @mindastreamofcolours @wetkleenex-gvf @itsafullmoon @heckingfrick @peaceloveunitygvf @musicspeaks @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

[seastarblue]

Writemas Day Four!

dayyyyy fourrrr baybeee!

the prompts for today!

the ones I chose were:

Aching

Setting in a tower

“The knife trembled in their hand”

The chill of raindrops

a tw or two: mentions of solitary confinement, mention of whipping

enjoy! <3

———

Blackfort’s solitary confinement tower was many stairwells illuminated by torchlight, a stark contrast to the rest of the city, which ran on runelights. The warden climbed up each flight, pausing only briefly as she peeped into the cells, holding one downtrodden prisoner each. Some glared at her, others ignored her, and still others slept their sorrows away.

When she reached the tenth story she was gasping for air, inhaling the scent of hay, sweat, and various other pungent odors. After a moment she shook off any lingering fatigue, as she did not need to be seen as weak by these criminals.

The warden made her way to a specific cell, this one marked with a single 10-2 at the top. She took a large keyring out of her pocket, and found the correct key. Placing the key into its lock, she turned it and stepped inside.

The chill from the rain outside greeted her, giving her slight relief from the tiring climb up here. Giddiness crept into her, but she forced it down. For now.

The cell was a smaller one, hay piled up in the corner acting as a bed, a small bucket on the opposite side. Against the back wall sat a half elf, her formerly long black hair now shorn close to her head, drawing more attention to her pointed ears. The prison uniform hung on her lank frame, and her legs were curled up against her. A chain wove its way from her ankle to a small hook at the center of the cell, and over this the warden stepped to greet the prisoner.

“10-2.”

No reply. The warden took another step.

“10-2. I am speaking to you. Answer.”

The half elf raised her head, pupils contracted so much that the warden could barely tell they were there. She stared at the warden, keeping quiet.

“Well?”

“…Good… evening?” she managed, voice cracking.

The warden kept her tone nonchalant. “No, it’s much past evening now.”

The prisoner licked her chapped lips and looked back down.

“You would have known that, had you not broken the rules last week.”

Silence from the prisoner.

“What did I just say?”

“Yes ma’am.” 10-2 did not make eye contact, and her voice was barely a whisper.

‘So dejected,’ the warden thought. That simply would not do. 10-2 had only been here for a few weeks, there was no way she’d learned her lesson after such a short time, especially considering the severity of her crime. The warden tsk-ed. Why anyone would ruin their life by pointing out some rules were… slightly bent by an organization as big as the Academy was beyond her. Either way, she had come to relive 10-2 of her solitary confinement.

The warden snapped out of her thoughts as 10-2 shifted slightly, causing the chain to rattle.

“Causing a ruckus, are we?” she chided, crouching down. A smile had crept onto her face, though it would make a normal person’s blood run cold.

It had that effect on 10-2. She immediately stiffened, and kept her eyes pinned to her wrapped feet. The warden’s smile deepened. If her prisoner wouldn’t entertain her a bit, then she’d make her.

The warden reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pocketknife, one she used in case of emergencies. Sometimes the prisoners forgot their places. 10-2 never did lash out at her, or any guards, but it was her tongue that got her trapped here. The warden honestly considered cutting it out, but she didn’t want to lose her job.

“Why don’t you pick that lock, 10-2?” she started, standing back up. “Since you’re already so keen on breaking and entering anyways.” A scoff escaped her as she tossed the knife. It landed right at 10-2’s feet with a clatter that made the half elf flinch. “Hurry up. If you’re not done in, say, ten minutes, you’ll be stuck here for another month.”

10-2 paled, even more than before, and the warden was ecstatic.

She loved her job.

~~~ The knife trembled in Li Hua’s hand. Both of them ached, badly, as did her ankle from the chain, her wrist from the effort it took to saw it, and her back from when they whipped her… a month ago? She didn’t know. But she was free, for the most part. She did not need to stay another minute in that solitary cell.

When the warden came, she tsk-ed again—‘the bitch wanted me to fail, I bet’—and called a guard to escort—or rather, drag—back to the common cells.

They placed—or rather, dumped—her onto a cot, where she fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

———

Now the General Writing list! lemme know if you’d like on/off!

@bunnymermaidwrites @abiteofhoney @aalinaaaaaa @vesanal @cepheusgalaxy

@fifis-corner @urnumber1star @thebookishkiwi @sunflowerrosy @theink-stainedfolk

@threedaysgross @mundanemoongirl @satohqbanana @bamber344 @imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese

@ash-thedrawer @cc-writes-stuff @anothersummerofsleep @sharkblizzardblogs

@verdant-mainframe @kittrrrr @ruvastuon

and the host of this event, @agirlandherquill !

[star-centric]

Heliotrope (Eternal Love, Devotion) || Fyodor

MEANING: “The heliotrope often symbolized devoted and everlasting love, regardless of what the recipient feels or that might hurt the giver.”

A/N: This fic is probably the closest thing I’ll have to Spooktober this year 😅 but who doesn’t love a vampire Fyodor? Also I’m lowkey proud of this ☺️ Reader is gender neutral!

CW: blood (obviously), mention of death

❀ FLOWER SPECIAL MASTERLIST ❀

It was centuries ago when you first turned.

You were nothing but a lowly peasant, working in the church for food and shelter. It was the only place that would take you in, but sometimes you wondered if God truly meant for this to be your salvation.

You would go to bed with your clothes barely keeping together, stale bread and watery soup on your stomach, but you had a roof over your head and forced yourself to not complain and shiver so much in your thin bed. You weren’t on the street anymore alone, so you should be grateful. Even if the others in the church regarded you as trash, you should still be thankful.

You were close to getting put out on the streets again when you met the stranger.

You kept your head down while cleaning the outside windows, trying your best to keep away from the pastor’s wrath and the lead nun’s glare. The sun was already setting, the mix of orange and red hues disappearing from the sky as it turned to dusk. You were enjoying the view, feeling at peace for once in your life at the sight.

“It truly is a wonderful view, is it not?”

You flinched the sound, accidentally kicking the bucket and spilling the water onto the ground below, bleeding into the stranger’s shoes. You gasped, mortified at your clumsiness. You kneeled down, apologies spilling from your lips, ready to hand scrub the dirt from his shoes when he ushered you up.

“There’s no need for that- you should still be enjoying the view.”

The stranger’s voice sounded melodic in your ears, the accent from his words now registering. You glanced up, taken aback by his eyes.

They were so beautiful- a deep shade of violet that twinkled like jewels. You’ve never seen eyes that color before, honestly you didn’t even know they could be that color before until now. It was so easy to get lost in too-

The nun calling your name broke you out of thoughts, seeing the anger crawling against her face. She must have saw the whole interaction, spewing your name out like a curse. You must have looked like a bumbling idiot getting so sidetracked from your misdoings. You apologized again to the stranger, who once again had no concern over your mistakes.

He spoke to the nun that his shoes were in need of a good washing anyway, which calmed down her rage the slightest (but no doubt you’ll see more of it once he leaves). You didn’t want to part ways with him just yet, not only to keep the nun calm, but because you were now so intrigued by him.

But just like in life, you couldn’t get what you always wanted, the woman bidding him farewells and apologies on your behalf. But as she spoke, the stranger looked solely at you, avoiding her gaze. You didn’t tear away from his stare, even as you were pulled inside.

You went to sleep with those amethyst eyes on your mind. It was one of the first good dreams you’ve had since coming here.

You were back on the streets when you’ve learned his name.

It was raining, the dark clouds sharing your sorrows as you tried to shield yourself from the water drops. The bread you stole tasted better than what was given to you at the church, even when it was soggy. It gave you some substance, even if it still left your stomach growling. How long could you last like this?

It was freezing, the clothes on your back in worse wear than before. You kept your head down as the water drops slowly slid off of your bruised skin when something soft was thrown on you, slightly jumping.

Peeking out from underneath the heavy coat, you were met with the same violet eyes, a quick gasp leaving your lips.

“It’s troublesome to see you in this position. Had that much time passed since our meeting for the church to have fallen on hard times?”

You meekly shook your head no, finding yourself curling underneath his coat. “No sir, the church is still flourishing. I just…I was only causing them headache so it was best for me to leave.”

“I’m not under the impression that it was your choice.”

And he would be right, but you were too full of shame to admit it.

“Tell me- do you wish for a better life? One where the so-called people of God wouldn’t leave you to die on the streets?”

You do, you’ve always wished for it. You’ve wished to live comfortably- you didn’t have to be rich, or live like royalty, but you’ve wanted to live securely. Not where you would have to sleep on cobblestone, scrounging for food any chance you could get.

You wanted to live, and not have someone find your corpse underneath a bridge eventually.

“I do.” You were desperate, and if this was your only chance at fulfilling your desire and not death, you’re taking it.

“Then come with me, and I’ll give a life more than deserving.”

He held his hand out, a slight chill shooting through you when your fingers met his. Even if this did lead to your demise, a small part of you was content that you were able to meet this man once more, being sucked into his gaze once more. It was a sight that you felt like you shouldn’t have seen, dark locks framing his sharp features as the rain slid off his skin. He was beautiful.

Was he an angel sent by God?

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Please, address me as Fyodor.” He pulled you up, gently adjusting his coat on you. The rain had seem to calm down as soon as he appeared, and he led you away and to the start of your new life.

The castle he brought you to was far away from the town and deep into the woods, but God was it magnificent. It was just like you imagined from the stories your mother would tell you.

Fyodor gave you everything- warmth, food, clean clothes, your own room. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes, Fyodor noticed. He gently wiped them away, whispering that there was no need to cry anymore. You declared that you would do anything to pay him back for saving you- and he chuckled, saying that the time to take up your offer would eventually come, but not tonight.

You weren’t sure how soon he meant, until he appeared in your room in the late hours of the night. A pang of fear struck through you quickly, but you forcefully swallowed it down. He kept his word even if it was short lived, and you were grateful enough to get that.

Fyodor called your name, ushering you into his arms.

“Your heart is beating so fast- there’s no need for you to be scared.” He whispered, planting a few kisses along your neck, trailing down. His lips brought a chill down your spine. You should have known that he wasn’t human, even before you saw the sliver of his fangs. You went to push him away as he pinned you down on the sheets below.

“I’m simply giving you the life that you’ve always wanted. A life that you deserve- being by my side is more than fitting.”

The pain was excruciating, tears rolling down your cheeks as you couldn’t even choke out a scream. You could hear him slurping, feeling your own throat becoming wet. Your vision went blurry, and it was a battle to keep your eyes open, that you were greatly losing.

You accepted death without a further fight, going limp.

The next time you opened your eyes, something warm was dripping on your lips, a metallic taste filling your mouth. But it was delicious, and you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to get more, not realizing or even caring that it was coming from Fyodor himself, snatching his wrist and latching onto it for dear life.

You looked like a demon, a savage animal with his blood smeared on the corners of your mouth, panting with a hazy look. No further explanation was needed for what you had become. You were horrified while Fyodor remained stoic, not showing any sympathy for damning you. In his eyes, he kept his word- he gave you a better life, even if it was as a creature of the night.

Time had passed, and your new way of living became your new normal. Seeing blood and draining it from anything with a heartbeat made you squeamish no longer- you never enjoyed it, but it became tolerable. Fyodor trained you, showing you the ways to survive while still treating you as before, gifting you new outfits and the fanciest trinkets. It was like before, except now you were both feasting on blood.

You grew closer to him, feeling a pull in your chest that wouldn’t reside if you weren’t with him. He began having you sleep in his room. Your heart would have been beating at the sight of the large coffin, but gripping your chest reminded you that this was fitting for you both. But soon, you began to look forward to it among other things.

You were attached to Fyodor, not having the possibility of even imagining life with another. He had to have know it too, the lingering touches he would leave to your chilled skin. You were in love with him, and him turning you only acted as twisted sort of wedding vows, with endless promises.

It was only the two of you for years, with you doing whatever he needed or wanted, even if he hadn’t asked for you to do it. He was the only one you had room for in your heart, and continued to treat you ever so gently, like a porcelain doll. If this was eternity, you found yourself to be ecstatic.

Until he brought another person home.

Then another.

And another.

To the point where he was sharing his resting place with others, and not you.

You were obviously heartbroken- were you not enough for him? Had he grown tired of you? Had you done something wrong? It was hard to swallow your worries down, especially when they would trail behind him all the time, him sending you away to bring back food for them.

You couldn’t bite your tongue anymore, crying out in distress when he began to retreat back to his quarters. You were bitter, jealous, and above all hurt.

“I thought- I thought you cared about me.”

“What gave you the impression that I don’t?”

“These strangers that you’ve brought into our home,” you crossed your arms. “Why did you turn them? Why did you bring them here of all places?”

“The same reason that I brought you here- to give them a better life.” He tilted his head, giving you that same stoic look from the night he turned you. “They were suffering as you once were. Why would you would be the only person I saved?”

His words made your heart shatter, tears welling up in your eyes. You should have been the only one here with Fyodor, not with other people that would give him the same glance that you do. It was selfish, but you deserved to at least have something just for yourself for once in your life.

It was childish to cry over it, but it hurt. God, did it hurt.

But Fyodor was there to wipe your tears away, just like he did when you were once human. “There’s no need for your tears, darling. I’ve treated you well for your years with me, have I not?”

You sniffled, nodding your head.

“And that won’t change- you’ve done so well for me, even when you were still mortal. You’ve never crossed me wrong, and I still desire you- but there are others that need to be saved just like you were.”

Fyodor brought you close, cold fingers grasping your chin. “They can be of good use to us- place your trust in me as you’ve always done.”

You found yourself getting sunken into his gaze once more. You were blinded by your feelings, shame turning into reassurance. He was right- Fyodor has never led you astray, so you had no need to doubt his words.

So you didn’t.

Even if he said the same to the others, you were special to him- the only one that meant something to him. He saved you, and gave you a better life than you could dream of.

You’ve coated your hands in blood for Fyodor, both mortal and immortal, but it was all in his name, to assure that he didn’t have to do more than he has already done.

Even when you leapt in front of him, a wooden stake driving through your chest, a solemn smile staining your bloodied lips while the one you loved glanced down, sharing a smile that should have been out of place, you had no regrets.

You simply lived for Fyodor, and you swore to see that your love and devotion would save him from death, even if it lead to your own.

[6okuto]

"PICNIC DATE"

timeskip osamu x gn!reader | this one's cute. there's no actual picnic date though

a picnic date seemed like a perfect date idea for osamu.

he promised he’d handle the food, always happy to impress you with his cooking—not just onigiri, but a new recipe he’s been practicing to surprise you. he could imagine it: a warm sunday afternoon, the checkered blanket, him taking everything out of a picnic basket, the sun setting over the park’s hill and the air getting chillier, compelling you to cuddle up beside him.

so why, he wonders, are there storm clouds rolling in?

your head is tilted up, eyes narrowing at the grey skies. if there was one thing osamu was correct about, it was that the air would get colder. a wind pulls at the edge of the blanket underneath you and messes up his hair, sending shivers down his spine as it blows through his shirt.

“’samu, you checked the weather, right?”

“hon, ’course i did,” he defends himself quickly with a frown. “i swear i would’ve known if there was a storm coming.”

“okay, well, i don’t know how to tell you this, but i’m pretty sure there’s a storm coming.”

osamu groans, letting his head fall to rest on your shoulder. “don’t say that. we walked here.”

resting your head against his, you bring a hand up to rub his arm, both to comfort and keep him warm. “maybe it’ll go away?”

it doesn’t, of course.

there’s maybe a ten minute window where you both decide to pack up and get moving, speed walking back to your apartment, concluding you could just come back another day.

but then the rain starts.

and it comes down hard.

you wonder how movies manage to romanticize this.

the picnic basket hits osamu’s thigh as he runs, and the blanket quickly becomes drenched in your arms, not any different to your clothes as you become soaked to the bone.

rain slams onto the both of you in buckets, the pressure like hail because of the sheer amount. you bump into osamu as a gust of wind catches you off balance, and he uses his free arm to keep you up.

“samu—” you try to shout above the storm. your voice manages to get his attention, because he quickly grabs your arm to wrap around him and he lifts his jacket to cover your head as much as possible.

“samu,” you repeat yourself.

he moves closer so you can hear him. “you okay? y’want me to carry the blanket or anything?”

“i—” you cut yourself off, the rain still hammering down, and suddenly a muffled loudness pelting the jacket above you.

and you laugh.

to be honest, you don’t even know what you wanted to say before. maybe you called osamu’s name just to make sure his was there. thunder booms, and the rain hurts against your back and arms, and there’s so fucking much—”this fucking sucks!”

you trip over your own foot for a second, and start laughing even harder. “seriously, i can’t see shit! what the fuck?”

and your boyfriend who falters when you do, starts to laugh too. “we can—oh, fuck off—we can hide out in the convenience store, alright?”

osamu swears at the picnic basket repeatedly scraping against his arm—”why do they make picnic baskets such ass?”

his complaint alongside your laughter and running is keeping you out of breath, and all you can do in response is hold onto him a little tighter, laugh a little louder.

by the time you get to the convenience store, osamu’s certain he looks like a dog who just got thrown into a bathtub way too big for it, but “at least y’look as good as always.”

“oh, shut up,” you snort, breathing heavy and your hands on your knees.

“sorry for…this,” he apologizes to the person at the register. they shake their head and tell the both of you not to worry after you apologize too.

apparently aisle six has towels and clothes if either of you needed them, and the washroom had just been cleaned, though you were welcome to rest as long as you needed.

you both thank them, deciding to stay on the mats anyway until you were dry enough to not drip water everywhere you walked.

it's a lot quieter inside.

everything outside is muffled and you can finally hear yourself breathe. there’s an audible humming from the freezers, and the weather forecast plays on the television against the wall, warning everyone else about your first-hand experience.

osamu’s the first to speak, his voice defeated and quiet. “sorry this is how we spent our sunday afternoon.”

he’s pouting when you look over, and your chest tightens at the sight.

“it’s okay, ’samu. we can go home and still do something. there’s not a lot we can do about a thunderstorm,” you comfort him and wrap your arms around his waist.

drops of water fall from his hair and hit your skin as osamu hugs you back, pressing a kiss to your temple. he sways you from side to side, and you watch the rain slide down the store’s glass doors. “i dunno, i could still go fight the clouds.”

“yeah, i’m sure if you punch enough rain it’ll scare them away.”

“i am pretty scary.”

“your head has never looked flatter.”

“hey.” osamu pinches your waist and you jolt against him. the both of you snicker as you hit his hand and his hold around you tightens. you intertwine your fingers with his hand that pinched you with a smile. “i’m kidding.”

he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair anyway.

“i feel like i just got thrown into a washing machine,” you suddenly mutter.

your boyfriend hums. “at least there was no spinning?”

“oh yeah? us against a tornado next?”

osamu softly laughs at the thought of trying to outrun a tornado, or spinning in it alongside a house and cow as if you were a cartoon. “if we try to have a picnic again and a tornado hits, i’m gonna be mad.”

a laugh escapes you and you nod. “fair enough. no tornado, then.”

“no tornado.”

really, he doesn’t know what he’d do if that ever happened. but osamu thinks he could handle it.

he looks at you smiling despite how much he can feel you shivering and the fact that your lunch was inevitably ruined, and he thinks he'll be okay as long as he has you there, running and laughing with him until the storm was over.

happy birthday again 2 the twins. i write for tsumu more than samu so here i am ^___< (once again)

🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpink @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @chirikoheina @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie

[sunnydaze4ever]

this might like seem strange or not a very forward idea but can you do qiu and tamarack with a reader who has a bunch of chalk? like they go outside and just use their chalk all the time?

I decided to make headcanons out of this, lmk if you meant a Drabble!

Qiu Lin x Reader, Tamarack Baumann x reader

Them with an MC who uses lots of chalk

Fluff, Platonic/could be romantic

———————

Them seeing your chalk for the first time:

- Tamarack learned this fun fact on a Sunday afternoon

- Honestly, it’s surprising she didn’t find out earlier

- There were no plans with the boy’s club that day, no shopping to do, and not many ideas in your head

- So you went to your last resort; Chalk.

- A while back, on a boring shopping trip with your mom before even Golden Grove, you spotted a large bucket of chalk. Not only that, a cheap large bucket of chalk

- One cheap enough for your money to afford on your own! So your mom ended up letting you buy it

- Anyway, back to that sunday

- You were currently drawing some mushrooms you had seen in the forest the previous day along with other doodles

- Until Tamarack popped up

- She had been walking out to go to the forest. She was going to ask if you wanted to explore around until she peeked over your shoulder and saw your doodles

- Let me tell you, she lit up.

- “That looks so cool!” She said. You two spent the rest of the day doodling away on the sidewalk

- Qiu had found out when he had returned home from Darren’s house to find you and Tamarack huddled over a bit of the sidewalk

- Honestly, you looked like you were scheming.

- So he, of course, asked what you were doing.

- To which you and Tamarack revealed your masterpiece of pastel pink and yellow and blues.

- After a few compliments from Qiu’s end, he ended up joining in till dinner!

- Which is one of the few times you’ve seen him so far without his gloves (he didn’t want chalk on them)

———————

Now more general stuff:

- Tamarack, as she stated, thinks it's pretty cool!

- I like to think she has some chalk, but nowhere near the range of colors you do!

- And she doesn’t use them nearly as frequently

- Anyway! She likes to doodle with you sometimes

- Even more she likes to watch you cover the sidewalk all the way from her house to Qiu’s in chalk (If your determined/bored enough to do that much)

- Lets just say both of you are disappointed when it rains

- If you draw her, she’ll be super happy!

- She also likes drawing you sometimes if your both using the chalk

- If she’s drawing with you, she likes using red and yellow because it reminds her of the forest

- Qiu also thinks it’s pretty nice

- Doodle buddies? Doodle buddies.

- The only difference is yours are more colorful and on the ground while his end up on the ground

- Sometimes the two of you will draw similar things but you with chalk usually and him with his notebook

- He likes using your chalk too! But he doesn’t as much as Tamarack might.

- He’ll laugh if he sees you’ve covered the whole houses area with chalk

- If your sad about it washing away, he might suggest using a more permanent drawing tool

- He’ll compliment your drawings and if you bring them up compliment them to Baxter and Darren!

- If he’s using your chalks, he’ll mostly use the yellows and oranges

———————

[xcalciumx]

Lost | Moon Knight System x Reader

Word Count | 4.5k

Summary | When you let a broken-hearted Steven into your apartment, you never thought that this would happen. They needed comfort, you wanted to give it to them - but somewhere in the midst of it all, ‘comfort’ became something much, much more. Something it shouldn’t have.

Just like The Casanovas said, how can something so wrong, feel so right?

(Mentions of cheating. Dabble of fluff, bucket of angst and a little bit of NSFW. <33)

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

It was pouring outside, the dim street lights a mere flicker in the darkness when you heard the knock at your door. The wooden spoon you’d been using to stir your dinner came to an abrupt halt, your eyebrows drawing together. You rested the spoon gently against the side of the pot, turning down the temperature on the stove before making your way towards your front door. 

It’s late. The sleeping city outside offers nothing more than the barks of restless dogs and the coo’s of awakening owls. Your footsteps against the hardwood floor of the hallway are soft, toes buried deep in a pair of fuzzy socks you’d gotten for your birthday last year. The apartment is bathed in black, the only light coming from your small kitchen. It should have been comforting, cosy even - but all it did was remind you of how lonely you really were. The knocking at your door was an anomaly in your never-changing routine, a little bit of excitement for the day. After this, you would finish making your dinner, sit down to eat it in the lounge and then you would go to bed - only to wake up in the morning and rinse and repeat all over again. 

London was supposed to be the change you needed. It was supposed to be all fun and adventure, relationships and new opportunities, but all it did was lock you in an office 24/7 and make you feel like more of a recluse than ever before. 

You’d lived here for a couple of years now, but it never got easier. For you, at least. Your sister on the other hand, whom you’d moved into London with from the homely abode of your small family farm, had had a better time. She’d gotten a job that paid well, a small house in a quiet suburb, she’d made friends, taken risks and after a year (you really tried not to roll your eyes in jealousy) had landed herself a nice, handsome fiance who worshipped the very ground she walked on. But that didn’t matter, right? You still had individuality, didn’t you? Freedom? A chance to reroute your whole life and drag yourself from the inevitable dark pit you were stuck in…?

Okay, you were miserable. So what? 

Talking of your sister, it came as a big surprise to find said fiance, Marc Spector, on the other side of your peephole. At least, you thought it was Marc Spector. Maybe it was Steven. Or the other one, Jake Lockley. To be honest, you still didn’t completely understand the whole altar thing. Your sister, in all her indifference, had never really bothered to explain it to you, but you supposed it wasn't really any of your business anyways. As long as she was happy and he (they?) were happy then who the hell cared. 

You didn’t hesitate to unlock your door, swinging it open to come face to face with one seriously frazzled looking man. 

“Hiya...”

The British accent and mumbled greeting was lost on you as you took in how he was standing, jacket sopping wet from the rain and hair flying around his head like a crazy scientist. He wouldn’t make eye contact, hunched in on himself, neck craned awkwardly downwards and foot tapping incessantly against the ground. 

You blinked at him stupidly. What in the…

“Steven?” you questioned, stepping back to usher him inside. “The hell are you doing? Are you alright?” 

You had met Steven enough times to be able to pick him from the accent. He was usually the one to appear at family gatherings and he’d been the first one your sister introduced you to when she started dating them. The downcast look haunting his face was concerning.  

“M’sorry,” he mumbled as he shuffled over the threshold, coat leaving droplets of water across your floor. “Didn’t know where else to go.” You tilted your head but didn’t reply, closing the door shut behind him. 

The both of you stood there in silence for a second, neither really knowing what to say. Finally, you found your voice.

“Let me take your coat, you look like you're one shiver away from catching a cold.” He stared wide-eyed at you but nodded mutely, handing you his drenched jacket hesitantly. You motioned for him to follow you as you made your way to your living room, chucking the coat carelessly into your laundry as you passed. As you got to the open space of your lounge, you quickly flicked on the light, embarrassed at how you seemed to be living in the darkness like a vampire. Steven didn’t say anything though and you relaxed a bit, snatching up your warm, fluffy blanket from the couch. When you turned, he was standing in the doorway, hands buried in his pockets and lips pulled into a frown. He looked rough. 

You cleared your throat, holding out the blanket awkwardly. Steven’s eyes came up from where they had been locked on the floor, staring at the offering in your hands quizzically. When he didn’t come any closer, you chose to approach him, hands carefully wrapping the fabric over his trembling shoulders. With a nervous wince, you pushed the hair splayed over his forehead back, hoping it wasn’t too intrusive. He gave a tightlipped smile at you then, his hands softly grabbing the blanket that covered him. You almost missed the quiet thanks that left his lips. 

“Yeah, right, um.” You fumbled over your words, eye darting towards where his shoes had trekked mud across the floor. You blew out a breath but didn’t comment. “Do you wanna take your shoes off and go sit on the couch or something? Um, I’ll get you something warm from the kitchen. Coffee? Tea? I could do hot chocolate? Um..”

Steven smiled at you again, this time a little more genuine. “Thank you, love. Tea would be good, if it’s not a bother. Ah,” he glanced back at where he had walked. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. You waved him off and motioned towards your small black couch. He was quick to take his shoes off, padding towards it. With a sigh, he dropped back into the pillows, hands instantly moving to run through his hair and head dropping forward. 

Before you got stuck staring at him, you quickly made your way into the kitchen, switching on the kettle. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the bubbling red of your dinner.

“Shit,” you cursed, having forgotten about the food. It probably wasn’t edible anymore, if the burnt brown of it meant anything. You sulked as you turned the stove off and moved the pot off the fading heat. As you waited for the water to boil, you took a second to look at your reflection in the microwave, realising that, damn, you kinda looked like crap right now. It was probably a good thing Steven seemed a bit too out of it to notice, not that he would have said anything even if he did see your unruly state. 

The kettle whistled and you scurried over, assessing the different boxes of tea you had spread along the wall. You loved the stuff, but you had no idea which one Steven would want. With pursed lips, you took a sachet of green tea from the previously unopened box; Steven did seem like a green tea kind of guy. 

When you came back into the living room, he was sat hunched over, his head buried in his hands. You frowned at the sight, collapsing down onto the couch next to him. He looked up as you did, eyes glossy with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Quietly, you passed him the cup.

“Thank you so much,” he murmured, blowing over the hot contents. He took a sip of the tea and a look of calm washed over his features, eyes closing momentarily before looking over to you. “How’d you know green tea was my favourite?” he joked weakly.

Your lips quirked upwards into a grin. “You just seem like a green tea kind of guy.” 

Steven smiled at that, shaking his dark curls that were now beginning to dry. 

WIth a thoughtful hum, you continued. “Personally, I can’t stand the stuff, by all means, take it home with you. Don’t tell my sister you got it from me though, she was the one who gave it to me in the first place.” With the cuppa clutched tightly between his hands, Steven paused. His mouth instantly curled into a frown. You watched it happen, hands fiddling together anxiously in your lap. “Steven,” you tried. “What happened? Why are you here?” 

His eyes closed again, but this time they were clenched tightly as though he was in pain. His lips sealed shut. 

“Steven,” you urged, but he just shook his head. You sighed. You didn’t want to push him, but when he showed up at your door in the middle of the night, soaked from head to toe and looking like death was on his heels, you couldn’t help but worry. 

You went to speak again but stopped as something in the room changed. It was barely noticeable, like a spider winding a web in the corner of a room when you weren’t watching. But it was there. Whatever it was. Steven’s back straightened, and suddenly he was staring at you. His sad, brown eyes now narrowed and cold.

You didn’t know what to say.

“Steven caught her fuckin’ another man,” said Steven. Though it wasn’t Steven, was it? No, the accent wasn’t British and the words definitely weren’t ones that would pass the reserved lips of Steven Grant. 

“Marc?” you asked. 

He smiled wryly at you. “Try again.”

Your mouth opened and closed, “Jake?” Your eyebrows knit together, fingers clenching at your side. Unlike the other two, you had only met Jake on two occasions. The first time was at some random supermarket in the middle of the night. You’d been trying to fulfil your chocolate cravings when you’d bumped into Jake, mistakenly taking him for Steven. You’d eagerly embraced him (in your defence, your sister had told you about a promotion he got at work that he’d really been wanting - and by told, you mean complained - and you thought he deserved a little bit of recognition and congratulations for it) and you very soon found out that it was in fact not Steven, if the heavy drawl and suggestive comments were anything to go by. The second time, the odder encounter of the two, Jake had shown up to your apartment, drunk out of his mind and rambling about some old Egyptian bird or something like that. Needless to say, that one warranted a quick call to your sister to come pick him up...you weren’t too sure how he even knew your address anyways.

When you registered what he had just said, your eyes widened in surprise. 

“She was cheating on you?” You shot at him in a scandalised whisper. He shrugged his large shoulders.

“Yeah.” 

“And Steven caught her doing it?” you gasp.

“Sí.”

“Oh my god.” You squeak, nearly falling off the couch in surprise. “Oh my god,” you repeat.

“Careful, you look like you’re about to have a heart attack.” The dark haired man glared at the cup in his hands before taking a small sip. His face crumpled like paper. “¡Mierda! What is this shit? You got something better? Scotch, whiskey, a beer? Dios Mío, woman.” 

You stared at him blankly, too stunned at the revelation that your sister would do something like that. Jake waved a hand at you. 

“Hello?”

“Oh my god,” you said one last time, for good measure. “Yeah, yeah I’ll get you something else. I - I’m so sorry. Wow. I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Can you tell Steven I’m sorry? That is just. Wow, I shouldn’t have pushed him about it. I, I just, wow.”

It was Jake's turn to stare at you blankly. 

“You don’t have to apologise to me, sweetheart. I hardly liked the bitch anyways.” Your eyes widened even more (if that was possible) but you kept your mouth shut. That was your sister he was talking about… “Steven was being too much of a pussy to tell you what happened,” Jake stretched back onto the couch and grinned at you. “So about that drink?”

You shot up from the couch. Right, the drink. Surely you’d have something in the fridge. Before you could hurry away to the kitchen, Jake was suddenly tugging at your shirt.

“Wait, wait, hold up,” he grunted. You looked back in confusion but he was staring across the room at a mirror hanging on your wall. “Yeah, well why don’t you come out and deal with this shit then, puta? No, no, and you - you're the one who dragged our asses here.” Jake sneered, looking mightily affronted. “Ay? I’m not making her do anything! It’s her pleasure to do this, she - “ he paused before looking up at you expectantly. “You wanna help us, don't you, sweetheart?”

You glanced around in confusion but slowly nodded your head. “I guess?”

“You see? Oh for fucks - oh my god. I’m done. No, no, deal with it yourself. Dios mío, pequeño idiota estúpido.” Jake’s chocolate eyes met yours and he smiled sarcastically. “I’ll see you around, beautiful.” 

Like a switch being flipped, Jake’s body tensed up and his cold brown eyes turned to molten lava.

The hand that had been gripping at your shirt dropped and a scowl appeared on his lips.

“You don’t have to run after Jake and Steven like a fucken’ maid, y’know.” You didn’t reply, mind-boggled. The angry brunette in front of you stood up, shrugging off the blanket that had been covering him and started pacing across the carpeted floor of your lounge. You watched it happen in shock, not knowing what had just transpired.

Before you could ask, Marc (or at least you assumed it was Marc) started muttering to himself.

You sat back down, hoping it would ground you a little. 

“Uh, Marc?” You asked. He didn’t reply, still walking around like a man possessed. “Marc,” you called again, worry evident in your voice. When he still refused to stop, you sucked in a deep breath, mustering up what little firmness you owned. “Marc!” 

He stopped and his wild eyes met yours. “Sorry…sorry.”

Your lips parted slightly. So it was him. “Sit down, Marc,” you requested softly. To your surprise, he actually listened, slumping back down onto the sofa. “I’m sorry,” you started, not really sure what to say to him at this moment.

He stared at you for a second before glancing away.

“It’s whatever. It’s not your fault.” 

You pursed your lips. “It’s still my sister who did that. And, y’know, I’m sorry for making you mad. I really was just trying to help.”

Marc looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Mad? No, no I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at them. At her. At - at me.” Your mouth made an ‘o’ shape.

“If you need something…I mean, I'm no expert in relationships but I reckon you’re feeling pretty bummed right now.” 

Marc scoffed. “Bummed? My fiance was having sex with another man. I think I’m a bit more than bummed.”

You lowered your head. “You're right. Sorry.”

Across from you, Marc huffed. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t treat you like this after you let us into your home. Just -” Marc groaned, like trying to speak about his feelings was the most difficult task he’d ever been given. “I just loved her, y’know?”

You smiled sadly at him. “From what she told me, she loved you too. Loves you.”

“Yeah? Well if she loved us so much, she wouldn’t have felt the need to fuck someone else.” his full lips tugged down. “I mean, shit, sometimes it felt like she didn’t even like Jake and I. Feels like she was just with us ‘cause she wanted Steven. And even then, she took advantage of him because he was too much of a dumb, in-love idiot to know better.” 

You wanted to argue this - say something that would make him feel better, but truthfully you couldn’t. Your sister didn’t talk about them much, but when she did, it was always; Steven that and Steven this. And, more often than not, it was her complaining about something he had done. Hell, one time she had rang you up to whinge about an apparently ‘awful’ date he’d taken her on to a museum.

Honestly, you thought she was just lucky to have someone take her anywhere. 

It wasn’t that your sister was a bad person (though that was questionable after what you’d just found out), she was just a little bit spoiled with the riches of life. She got what she wanted. She got who she wanted. And clearly, she took it for granted. But even then, it was beyond you how she could do something like that to a man who, from what you had bore witness to, would give her the world. You didn’t know them very well, but from Steven’s kindness, to Marc’s dry humour and even Jake’s unparalleled charm, they seemed, to be honest, not short of the perfect fiance. 

Maybe you were a little jealous.

You said instead, not quite sure how to properly respond to Marc’s heartfelt confession, “So, no marriage then?” You worried that it might have been a tad insensitive.

 Marc cracked a sad, small smile. “No, I don't think so.” 

“That’s probably a good thing. Let me tell you, she probably would have been the biggest bridezilla to walk this earth.” Your attempt to lighten the mood didn’t go unnoticed.

“You know, one time she got pissed at me because I didn’t fluff the pillows for her after getting out of bed.”

You can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you at Marc’s unexpected words.

“Sorry, what?”

He continued in a reminiscent tone, “She said that if Steven were there, he’d have fluffed the pillows, fixed the blankets and gotten her a cup of coffee.” He raised an eyebrow at you. “I told her she could do all of that herself and threw a pillow at her face.”

Your face scrunched as you tried not to laugh again.

“Maybe it is my fault she cheated on us,” he said blandly, head dropping back against the couch as his eyes met yours. A giggle escaped your lips and you instantly clapped a hand over your mouth. “You think me being cheated on is funny?” he asked. You quickly shook your head. 

“No, no I’m sorry, Marc. It’s not funny at all. Promise.”

Marc shook his head, “Was just teasin’.”

The smile stays on his lips but his eyes drop, a hefty sigh moving his chest. When he looks at you again, he reminds you of a little boy. Lost. In need of comfort. He reminds you of yourself.

“You know, maybe Steven met the wrong sister first.” 

His cheeks raise for a second as he smiles tightly at you. For a second his words don't register, but when they do, a hue of red rushes to your cheeks.

“Thanks, Marc,” you say gently. “I really am sorry about what happened.” 

“I know,” he sighs. “I know.”

And as you sit there watching him, his dark ruffled hair and full pink lips, something painful gnaws at your stomach. Maybe Steven did meet the wrong sister first. You stand up, toes sinking into the plush carpet below.

“I know I don’t have to, but let me get you something to drink anyways.” 

-

“Marc,” you gasped as his large hands slid around your waist, pulling you deeper onto him with every thrust of his hips. “Oh, fuck.”

The softness of your bedsheets sink against your clawed grip, the wooden frame of your bed scratching up against the wall with every movement from the man on top of you.

He was everywhere. Everything. Touching, biting, kissing, loving. 

It was enough to make tears well up in your eyes. Enough to make you turn your head and conceal a quiet sob into the pillow beside you. It was enough and it was nothing all at the same time. 

How did you get here? With your legs sprawled over Marc’s strong, muscular shoulders and his warm, soft body pressed tightly against you. How did you find yourself reaching a high you’d never felt, his name falling off your lips in hurried gasps for breath and whispered sobs of ecstasy? 

He wasn’t yours. He never was.

But still, as you came, clutched tight to his body, lips pressed close to one another, just for a second, it felt like he was. Like he could’ve been. 

And shit, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt like hell.

“That’s it, baby,” he muttered into the skin of your neck, teeth pulling at whatever they could find. “Good girl, just like that. Fuck. Yeah.”

He sighed, his hands clenched into fists, breaths unhurried and heavy against you.

This could be paradise. 

You wished it was paradise.

But fuck, all you could think about was how you were the worst sister in the world.

You shouldn’t have let this happen. You shouldn’t have been so weak. When Steven showed up at your door close to tears, his large frame shivering and his eyes so wide and sad, and when Jake took control of the body for a split second, with his dry wit and crude grins and when Marc, sweet, rageful Marc, had tried to make things less awkward, had tried to act like the woman he loved didn’t just shatter his heart…you should have done what any good sister-in-law would do, you should have offered him a spot on the couch until he could sort things out and go back home. You should have comforted him, given him a shoulder to cry on, called your sister and bitten her head off for being the most ungrateful woman in the world. You should have, but you didn’t. 

You shouldn’t have given him that beer. Or the one after that. Or the four that followed. A grieving man and a shit ton of alcohol was nothing but a recipe for disaster. 

“You really gonna make me drink alone?” Marc asked, lips upturned in an inviting smirk.

And how could you say no when he looked at you like that? “Yeah, alright, just a couple. I think we both need it after tonight.”

It was more than ‘just a couple.’ 

You shouldn’t have let him touch you like he did, shouldn’t have convinced yourself you were just being a good friend. You shouldn’t have been so weak and drunk and - and stupid.

But it was too late for regrets now.

The feeling of a hand cupping your cheek dragged you out from your inner turmoil. Marc was staring at you, his dewey brown eyes fixed squarely on yours. The crinkle on his forehead told you he was confused, an expression that reminded you more of Steven than anything else. You hadn’t even noticed him fixing up the blankets around you, or putting on his briefs. It had to have been the middle of the night by now, early morning even. The last few hours had been a haze…a sweaty, passionate, pink haze. 

As your eyes roved over Marc's face, a sudden guilt churned in your stomach. You tried to rationalise it, he had come onto you, not the other way around. But you knew that it was as much your fault as it was his. You were both drunk. He was trying to forget about his fiance’s infidelity and you…

What did you want, really, in your drunkenness?

The question scared you. It scared you so much that you ground your teeth and refused to dwell on it any longer. 

“You should get some rest, Marc,” you whispered gently, eyes looking everywhere but him. He mumbled something under his breath before burrowing himself down into the white sheets of your bed, his dark locks a mess. His back rippled with muscles as he got himself comfortable and you forced yourself not to look.

This was wrong. So, so wrong.

You didn’t want to know if Marc was still tipsy, or if over the last few hours, he’d come out of the drunken fog like you had. You didn’t want to know, because if Marc really had been intoxicated the whole time - if he had been so out of it, that he could barely register who he was fucking, then that meant he didn’t mean anything he had said, or did. And that stung, just a little bit more than it should’ve - you were, after all, just his fiance's sister.

It didn’t matter now anyways, he was out cold. 

When you heard his soft snores start to fill the room, you slinked out of bed, your feet carrying you through your apartment. The chill of the late Autumn weather had you wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. 

In the bathroom, all you could do was stare. The person looking back at you with the tousled hair and red marks left a sour taste in your mouth. Marc was your sisters fiance for fucks sake. It didn’t matter if she’d cheated on him, that didn’t give you the right to just - to just, what. Fuck him? Use him to fulfil your own lonely, desperate desires?

Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? Loneliness. A longing for something, or someone.  

You liked Marc, you liked Steven - hell you even liked Jake for what little you knew of him, but they were due to be wed to your sister in a couple of months. Did this not make you some sort of homewrecker? Sure, your sister had done it to him first but…but.

But nothing. You didn’t know what to think. All these feelings bubbling to the surface were too much. 

The tears caught you by surprise. What had you done? Your sister would hate you. Marc would wake up in the morning and hate you. Steven probably hated you for sleeping with Marc. You hated you right now.

You couldn’t look at yourself any longer, couldn’t stand to think about this for another second. 

You left the bathroom and headed for the couch, the place where this whole mess had started, curling yourself around your deserted blanket. You clenched your eyes shut, begging for the quiet solitude of sleep. There was too much on your mind, and…

…And god it was wrong, but the feel of his hands on you kept you awake till the first rays of morning light shone through the windows of your small apartment. 

Post nut clarity be like 

[joanquill]

"Let's just stay in bed,"

Albert Moriarty Relationship: Couple Genre: Comedy, Romantic Please? 🙏💖 If you read this and accept it.. THANK YOU SO MUCH💖

Albert James Moriarty

"Ngh...!" you stretched your back, satisfied with how clean the gates turned out.

"Finally done for the day..." you sighed, stretching your arms as you fixed your cleaning supplies.

While you were walking back to the manor, dark clouds started brewing in the sky.

"And just in time, too...!" you muttered as the rain started pouring down, making you run back as the rain fell harder.

"Had a good shower?" Sebastian teased as you walked in, your whole body soaked to the bones.

"Haha, very funny..." you dryly replied, wringing your clothes to the bucket you brought.

"Where were you anyway? You were supposed to help me with the gates," you reminded, throwing the dirty water outside.

"Right... About that..." Sebastian trailed off, making you frown.

"You were hiding, weren't you?"

"Who's to say?" he smiled, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

"Your bath's ready, by the way," Sebastian pointed to the bathroom, making you smile as an idea popped into your head.

You shook your head violently, shaking off the water around you as Sebastian groaned and covered himself.

"(Y/N)!"

"Thanks, Sebastian!" you grinned as you ran up to the bathroom, a satisfied smile on your face.

You sighed in satisfaction as you wrapped yourself in blankets, enjoying the sound of the rain and thunder from the outside.

"So cozy..." you muttered, enjoying the softness as your eyes drooped down, the weather slowly lulling you to sleep.

"Darling?" Albert called out, but you were knocked out cold.

He breathed out a smile as he sat beside you, admiring your sleeping form.

"I'm home..." he whispered, rubbing your cheek softly as he kissed the side of your head.

You squirmed against his touch as you slowly woke up.

"Albert...?" you yawned, rubbing your eyes to make sure you were seeing things correctly.

"Yes?" he replied as you blinked your eyes open.

"...When did you get home? Didn't you say you were getting the last train home?" you furrowed your brows as Albert smiled.

"I did," he confirmed, practically seeing the question marks popping out of you.

You looked out the window, and sure enough, the moon was shining brightly.

You gasped as you hurried to the clock, seeing it was past midnight.

"I slept for half the day...!?" you muttered, remembering it was around noon when the rain started.

"Seems like you had a good nap," Albert teased, making you blush.

"R-Right," you nervously laughed, walking back to him.

"Welcome back…! And Happy Valentine’s Day…" you sheepishly greeted him with a hug, squeezing him happily as he chuckled.

"Sorry... I was planning on taking a short nap after I was done with chores to help you unpack..." you muttered, grabbing his suitcases.

"We can do that tomorrow," he reassured, pulling you back to his lap.

"Coming back home is more than enough..." he breathed out, letting his body relax against your touch as he pulled you both to bed.

You breathed out a smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with his hair.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted..."

"Then, let's just stay in bed," you smiled, cuddling him tightly as he slowly drifted to sleep.

[beardedjoel]

closer | part fifteen

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au  

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3  

chapter summary: you try to hide the fact that you’re afraid of thunderstorms from joel, but he sees right through you, coming to your rescue at the perfect time. slutiness and cuteness ensue. 7.8k words.

chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, protective!joel, boyfriend asf!, consensual somnophilia, oral (m receiving), unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink

a/n: this chapter means i’m up to date on all the chapters i have posted on ao3 right now, so my updates may be a tad bit slower than they have been on tumblr. ty for bearing with me i love u all ♡

You used to like thunderstorms as a kid. They were fun back then - watching the lightning and listening for the next claps of thunder. Running around outside as it poured buckets on you and soaked you to the bone. It was fun. And now, you’re twenty five years old and afraid of them, thinking back on how you got here as you cower slightly from the most recent flash of lightning outside.

Your second year living in Chicago, there was a storm that you got caught in while driving home from class late one night. You should have waited it out, but things took a turn for the worse once you were already on the road, and you ended up in a car accident where you lost control of your car and crashed it. You were too afraid to move, seemingly stuck in your car anyways with the seat belt locking, airbags deploying, the whole nine yards. You were lucky you didn’t have many injuries, just a broken arm and some bad bruising. To this day, it’s the thought of hearing the rain pounding on the pavement, your only memories being the flashes of lightning and sound of thunder while you waited for someone to help you that really sticks with you. You’ve tried working through it, and made great strides for dealing with the anxiety that comes up during thunderstorms, but it doesn’t mean it’s completely gone.

Of course your parents are out of town this weekend, too, so while you lay in bed, trying to distract yourself, the power cuts out, and you cower completely. You’re glad that you’d already brought Benny up here earlier to keep you company. You’re just laying in the dark, feeling frozen in your little anxiety bubble, unable to get up to even find a lighter and some candles to bring some light into your space. You’re going to have to force yourself to do it soon, but you’re trying to get past the shaking from the surprise of all your lights suddenly going out.

Your phone rings, startling you even further, and you see Joel’s name pop up on your screen. You feel reluctant to answer, not wanting to bother him with your stupid, juvenile fear. You reach with a trembling hand to grab your phone and decide to answer the call.

“Hey,” you say, a slight waver in your voice.

“Hey baby, I just got in and my power’s out. Is yours?” Joel asks, and you swallow hard, pushing down your emotions.

“Mhm, yeah,” you say into your phone. “It is.”

“Everything alright?” he immediately asks, quickly sensing the difference in your demeanor. Damn him.

“Y-yeah, everything’s good. Benny and I are just, uh, hanging in the dark,” you tell Joel, running a hand over Benny’s belly as he lays stretched out next to you. He’s anxious too, you noticed, not seeming to like the pounding rain on the windows or periodic thunder. Poor boy, at least you can relate to how he feels.

“Alright, then. Just checkin’ in.” You can hear Joel shuffling around in the background. “Lookin’ for some more candles,” he murmurs to explain all the noise.

“I should light some, t-too,” you say, feeling and sounding completely robotic. You’re out of it now, your anxiety with the storm trying to take you to another place where you block it all out.

“Wh- are you sure you’re alright? You sound kinda weird,” Joel replies.

“I’m not being weird,” you snap slightly, then bite your lip, not wanting to lash out at him unfairly. “Really,” you try to say reassuringly.

“If you say so…” Joel trails off, and you hear a small sigh. “Found ‘em,” he adds quietly, completing his search for some more candles to light.

“Actually, I should go, sorry. Benny is uh, whining. He’s scared right now, I think,” you say, despite Benny lying quietly at your side. Why the hell are you lying to Joel now?

“Okay, darlin’, just text me or somethin’, okay? Hope this power comes back soon,” he says, and you hurriedly tell him goodbye before hanging up.

There you go, blowing your one chance for an out from this anxious mess you’ve found yourself in. You know Joel would probably rush over here in a heartbeat if you’d told him, and for some reason, it embarrasses you that it would be for something that seems this silly. It’s just a storm, and while you remind yourself of that constantly, it’s too difficult to not let your mind go to that familiar place when you experience weather like this.

Not even five minutes later, there’s a knock on your door. You start, but freeze after, the sudden knock only heightening the tightness in your chest, and you realize tears are pulling at your eyes now. Fucking hell. You force yourself up, walking over to the door with ginger steps, trying to focus on the present. Benny is at your side, tail wagging between his legs skeptically.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” you hear through the door when you’re only steps away. Your eyebrows lift slightly and you close the gap between you and the door, swinging it open. Joel is standing on the landing outside of your door, completely soaked through and looking at you through concerned eyes. He takes one look at your crumbling façade, pulling you into him as he steps towards you slightly to keep you out of the rain.

“What’s goin’ on, hm?” he asks tenderly, his wet palms gripping your cheeks before wrapping around you completely.

“N-nothing.” Your face gives you away, eyes completely doe-like and fearful as you come down a bit from your anxiety when you feel his arms around you. You don’t care that his wet shirt is soaking right into yours now, you just need to breathe him in for a moment and everything will be ten times better already.

“Swear, if you don’t admit you’re afraid of thunderstorms to my face right now…” Joel says, slightly scolding but only because he cares, you know. Your eyes widen, hating that once again, he’s got you all figured out.

“Yes…” you reply, sagging your shoulders in defeat. “It’s s-so stupid, I d-didn’t want to tell you, it’s not worth it.”

“Not worth it? Look at you, you’re shakin’, baby.” Joel pulls his head back and looks you up and down. Benny nudges both of your bodies, curling up against your legs, and Joel smiles sweetly down at him. “I’m takin’ you both with me, c’mon.”

Joel grabs your hand and turns to walk away, but you hesitate, his grip on your hand tight yet you stand firm and unmoving. Joel shoots back a look and before he can even ask or you can protest anything, he swoops you up under the knees and holds you, carrying you down the stairs. He calls after Benny to follow, and despite his own anxiety, Benny trails you, likely making sure you’re okay - he’s always been a good protector like that. You’re instantly soaked, the rain hitting all of you in hard droplets, and you tilt your head down into Joel’s chest to avoid it getting in your eyes. A clap of thunder roars above as you enter into Joel’s yard and you tremble, your breathing shaky for a moment.

“Shh,” Joel murmurs near your ear, “Almost there.”

He rushes to his house and slides open the back door. You’re immediately welcomed by glowing candlelight all through the kitchen, and you can see past into the living room to see Joel has lit several candles in there as well. You feel an immediate sense of relief seeing the calming, flickering lighting and feel your body sink into Joel’s arms. He sets you down in a kitchen chair and steps back, taking stock of you and Benny in your soaked state.

“One sec,” he murmurs, walking off and returning with a towel before crouching down and rubbing Benny all over with it. Benny pants happily in Joel’s face and he cracks a smile when the chocolate lab shakes off some extra moisture all over the two of you. You manage to feel a smile tug at your lips now too, feeling like the worst of this night is over now.

“Your turn, darlin’,” Joel says, standing and taking your hand. “Let’s get you some dry clothes,” he adds, guiding you upstairs to his bedroom.

Joel grabs another Texas football themed shirt from his dresser before walking over to you, helping you undress before you get the chance. As he reveals your bare chest, he barely makes note of it, and you appreciate his gesture to make you feel safer. He slides the t-shirt over your head and then smiles down at you.

“Shorts next,” he tells you before tugging them down and tossing them in a pile with your wet shirt. He hands you a pair of his boxers, and you slide them on, and although they’re ill fitting, you adjust them until they’re able to sit comfortably enough on you. You sit back on the edge of his bed and smile appreciatively while Joel gets to work changing his own soaked clothing. The view of Joel damp and shirtless is almost enough to make you forget your unease from this evening, and Joel gives you a cheeky smirk as he notices you admiring him.

“Now isn’t that a sight,” he comments as he sees you lounging on his bed, clad completely in his clothes.

“This?” you ask incredulously, motioning to the baggy boxers and shirt you’re wearing.

“Never looked better, if ya ask me,” Joel says, throwing a dry t-shirt and athletic shorts on. He approaches you on the bed and leans down, kissing you on the forehead, his smell breezing past you as he does it, leaving you sighing quietly. “So sexy in all my clothes,” he adds, pulling his face back to look at you again, giving you a wink.

“C’mon, let’s head back downstairs and keep Benny company,” he suggests, and you follow him back to the living room where Benny is laying down next to Joel’s couch, clearly exhausted from the storm that continues to rage outside. Joel pulls you down so that you’re settled onto his lap, and you instantly curl into him, the warmth coming off of his body a welcome sensation despite the house starting to heat up without the air conditioner running.

“Alright, talk to me baby,” Joel says, curling his arm around you and rubbing your back.

“Promise you won’t think I’m dumb?” you ask him timidly.

Joel shoots you a wry look and tuts. “Promise.”

“I just… get anxious during storms now,” you pause to swallow hard, readying yourself to dig into the bad memories. “I had a really bad car accident a few years ago and it was during this huge thunderstorm. I-I was waiting for ages, I was too scared to move and reach for my phone at first, not knowing if I’d broken anything. A-and the seatbelt was stuck, so I just had to sit there and hope someone found me until I was able to finally get to my phone...” You stop, gathering yourself and biting inside your lip anxiously. “I was waiting and struggling for ages just listening to the rain, and I just get this irrational anxiety that comes up now when the weather is really bad like this. I don’t know…” you trail off, feeling a few hot tears brimming your eyes now.

“Hey, hey it’s alright. That ain’t irrational, makes a lot of sense to me,” Joel says reassuringly, continuing to gently stroke your back and shoulders.

“There’s a part of my brain that knows it’s irrational, but the other part just

“This weather just puts me back in a bad place sometimes. It doesn’t happen with every storm, but especially when I’m alone,” you say with a small, defeated shrug, concluding your explanation to him.

“Okay, now that I know that, I can help you out baby. Why didn’t you tell me on the phone?”

“I felt embarrassed, Joel. I don’t tell very many people about this since I just feel totally crazy and irrational when it comes up. I mean what kind of grown adult is scared of thunderstorms?”

“Someone who went through somethin’ scary like you did,” Joel replies in a heartbeat. You sigh and lean your cheek further onto his shoulder.

“Yeah… I guess so,” you reply skeptically. It’ll take more than his words to change your mind that it’s not an overreaction, but knowing he believes in you is a huge step.

“S’alright, not a bit of judgment from me darlin’, promise,” Joel says sweetly, giving you a squeeze. “I’m afraid of cockroaches,” he admits sheepishly, and you chuckle.

“See? There’s my girl.” Joel pokes his fingers into your side, sending you squirming and laughing. Just the mention of those two words you love - my girl - immediately lightens the tightness in your chest.

“Everyone is afraid of cockroaches, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you murmur, wrapping your arms a little tighter around his neck.

“You need to eat? We’ve got to eat some stuff in my fridge before it goes bad,” Joel says, and you perk up a little. “Wait, I’ve got just the thing,” he says before nudging you off his lap and onto the couch. You sit and wait for him to return from the kitchen, where he brings over a carton of ice cream.

“S’gonna melt, so we better go for it,” he says, offering you a spoon. You take it with a grin and he sits down next to you while you both dig into the already half melted ice cream. You sit back a little, draping your legs across his lap and he instantly starts running a hand along your shins and thighs. The ice cream and Joel’s presence is already immensely helping you ride out this thunderstorm, which is already seeming to lighten up a bit outside.

“So…” you say nervously, “I’ve seen your guitar in here every time I come over, but I’ve never heard you play…”

“You askin’ if I’ll play for you?” Joel asks, a cocky smile on his lips.

You bite your bottom lip and nod slightly, glad you don’t have to say it so directly. You’ve been dying to ask him about it for weeks but were worried about putting him on the spot.

“I’m not anythin’ to write home about, but I can certainly strum somethin’ up for you, darlin’,” he replies, and your heart melts a little when he stands up, handing you the ice cream to finish off as he picks up the guitar.

You sit patiently as Joel plucks at the strings, checking the sound. He sits himself in the same spot next to you, giving you a last glance before he starts to play. As it goes on, you realize you don’t know the song, but it has a relaxed, old time country sound to it. You feel completely mesmerized by it already, the way he looks down at the guitar with concentration, his fingers deftly moving along the neck as he strums. Your heart lurches, an undoubtedly lovesick smile on your face.

As if you weren’t already about to burst, Joel starts humming quietly along with the song, his eyes closing as he loses himself in it. You relax back into the couch, letting the beautiful music he’s creating lull you into a further sense of security. Now that you’ve calmed down enough to see straight, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sleepiness that’s coming over you now.

You stifle a yawn and let Joel keep playing as your head gets fuzzy and your eyes start to blink more and more slowly. After a few songs, Joel stops playing, and you force your eyes open despite how tired you are and see him putting his guitar back on the stand.

“‘M gonna go to bed,” you murmur sleepily, stretching your arms up over your head a bit before sitting up.

“M’kay, darlin’. I’ll be up in a bit, you head on up there though,” Joel replies, planting a kiss on your forehead. He helps pull you off the couch, gently patting your ass as you move past him, and you shoot him a wry glance before walking up the stairs.

You use your toothbrush that Joel still has set out for you, and it makes you smile all over again. You can’t feel anything but grateful for everything he’s done for you tonight - you’d probably be having a restless, sleepless night if he hadn’t intuitively come and rescued you. You barely even remember your head hitting the pillow, your anxiety having knocked all the energy out of you this evening, before you’re fast asleep.

You wake up suddenly, a light gasp escaping your mouth as you sit up, trying to shake off your unsettling dream. You aren’t surprised by it, you tend to have strange dreams when your anxiety is high like it was tonight. You suddenly shiver, realizing the air conditioning is back on and Joel’s power must have come back while you two were sleeping. You burrow yourself under the covers a bit more to warm up and look over at Joel. It’s not often you get to watch him sleep, he tends to wake up before you when you spend the night together. It’s amazing that he manages to be an even earlier riser than you.

Your eyes soften as you look over him in the dark, bare chest dusted with hair rising and falling gently and his mouth slightly open. You suddenly feel a pull between your legs when you notice that there’s a small tent at his hips under the thin sheet, and you curl your toes as an image of his hard cock flashes through your mind.

You suddenly don’t think Joel would mind at all if you were to thank him for everything he did for you tonight. You don’t want to wake him just yet, so you slowly reach your hand over and cup the bulge in the sheet gingerly, rubbing ever so slightly. A small moan comes from Joel’s throat as he stirs slightly, but he immediately stills back into sleep as you continue to stroke him. You dare to do it a little harder, and Joel shifts again, but you can tell he isn’t quite awake yet. You smile deviously to yourself, finding that this turns you on more than you would have imagined. You try to reposition yourself without shaking the mattress too much, scooting closer and pulling the sheet down. You can now see that Joel has gotten significantly harder, straining against his briefs while you stroke your fingers along his lengthy shaft. You have to bite down to fight off the moaning that’s now on the tip of your own tongue.

Joel murmurs your name in his sleep, and your eyes go wide, thinking maybe he’s woken up, but he’s clearly just thinking about you in whatever horned up dream he must be having, and that makes your smirk grow even more. You have to fight off a giddy laugh now at the thought of it.

You slip your hand under the waistband of his briefs, caressing his warm, hard cock in your hand as you fist it, running your hand along the length as you position yourself in between his legs. Your hands hook around the sides of his briefs, pulling them down and exposing his throbbing cock to you, a drip of precum already leaking out from the light touching you have been doing. The power you hold over this man right now… the one who typically holds all the cards, the one who tells you what to do, is mesmerizing. You’ve got him in the palm of your hand, quite literally, and plan to do nothing but pleasure him until he wakes up to himself coming into your mouth.

As you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, Joel’s hips writhe and he stirs a little more, a deep groan sounding from him when you take your mouth over the head and plunge it down further. You gather spit and push your mouth down, drooling all over his cock and taking it deeper and deeper.

“Wh-” you hear from above you, and you smile around his cock as you realize Joel is at the least half awake now. He breathes your name in questioning, his head tilted off the pillow and looking down at you. You glance up at him while continuously taking his cock over and over into your mouth in slow, even strokes. You pop the head out of your mouth and lap at it a few times, causing Joel’s hips to twitch up.

“Shh, just relax and try to go back to sleep. Want to say thank you for tonight,” you coo, immediately taking him back into your mouth, letting your tongue drag along the bottom of his shaft. Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he leans his head back again and groans at the sensation of your warm mouth.

“Baby,” Joel murmurs with a little pleased grunt, giving in easily and letting you take the reins for once.

He’s throbbing, already satisfyingly close to release as he sleepily pumps his hips up into each stroke of your mouth. You pull your mouth off and lick strokes up his length, flicking your tongue as you go, and he just about loses all control as he hisses through his teeth. You sink your mouth fully onto him, taking every inch you can to the back of your throat and Joel starts, sitting forward and grabbing the back of your head, bucking his hips up into your mouth as he comes hard, groaning your name while his warm seed spills deep into your throat. You relish every moment of it, swallowing everything he has to offer you with pride. Joel’s body goes limp, flopping back onto the mattress, his chest heaving and limbs spent.

“Jesus, girl,” he utters, running a hand over his sleepy eyes and down his face. You tuck him back into his briefs and slip under his arm, resting on his chest. “What was that all about, huh?” Joel asks, cozying up to you.

“Like I said, I was saying thank you for tonight. You helped me out, so I helped you out.”

“Helped me out…” Joel echoes with a drowsy chuckle, his eyes blinking shut slowly. “Funny girl.”

Joel’s breathing evens out, and you think he may have fallen back to sleep, when he suddenly speaks out into the darkness of the room.

“You know you can talk to me, right baby? Don’t hide yourself from me,” he says, opening his eyes again, a slight pain in them at the thought of you feeling the need to do that. You blink a few times, trying to avoid the tears that are threatening in the back of your eyes at his sudden declaration.

“I’m not trying to, I swear,” you start to explain. “I just knew you’d go out of your way if I told you the truth earlier.”

“And didn’t I anyway?” Joel asks.

The corner of your lip turns up and you nod.

“Cause I know you, darlin’. Always easy for me to read you,”

You furrow your brow, frustrated by that fact considering you find Joel hard to read a majority of the time. You tense up, about to protest what he said when he cuts you off.

“‘Fore you get all huffy it’s no offense, it just means I’m payin’ attention to you,” he explains, and you settle down a bit, running your fingers along his bare shoulder and upper arm.

“Well when you put it like that…” you say, giving up your angry facade completely.

“Dunno if you noticed but I’m awful protective, it’s not always a good trait. Sometimes it helps, like tonight, other times…”

“You end up fucking me against a wall because another boy talked to me?” you add cheekily, and Joel looks playfully taken aback.

“Oh she’s gettin’ mean now,” he chuckles hoarsely, “But fair point. It’s gotten me in trouble before.”

You bite your lip, debating on digging into what he said further. What kind of ‘before’ could he be referencing?

“Like… with other people? Women, I mean?” You surprise yourself by asking before you can think about it any longer.

Joel nods slightly, a smug smile on his face. “Yes baby, and we both know that gets you jealous.” You open your mouth to speak, and he cuts you off once again. “Don’t even try to deny it, sweetheart.” You concede, snapping your mouth shut and letting him carry on.

“I’ve been known to be a jealous boyfriend. Some people like it, others… not so much. Simple as that.”

You find yourself reeling for a moment at his choice of wording. Boyfriend… Your eyes peer out into the dark room, wide and searching, debating how to respond to him.

Joel must read the look on your face as he glances at you and he starts to backtrack. “Now darlin’, don’t get too excited, I just meant, in my past relationships.”

You clear your throat, trying to hide the disappointment from your face. “I-is that what you’d call this, then? A relationship?” You don’t mean to, but you know your eyes are full of a pleading hope, desperate for the answer you’ve been craving from him for so long.

Joel releases a sigh, clearly still warring with himself over it. “Listen, sweet girl, I had some… stuff happen before. The woman I was seeing, she and I started to not see eye to eye on things. I held her back, if I’m honest. Or so she thought, I guess. Things got real resentful, and I can’t go through that sort of thing again, y’understand me?”

Things are clicking into place, your mind beginning to race with all this new information. That’s exactly where Joel had gotten this wording from about holding you back - it must have been spit in his face by his ex once things reached that resentful place he was talking about. You would never be like that, you think solemnly - you could never resent Joel, he’s done nothing but bring joy into your life since you first saw him.

“Y-you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want t-to, I’m sorry,” you half mumble, suddenly feeling guilty for bringing up something painful for him.

“‘S’okay, angel. That’s not the point. It was a long time ago, and yeah, it does hurt to think about, but just ‘cause I can’t do that to someone else I care about, y’hear me?”

You nod, not sure you know what you’re agreeing to right now. “O-okay. I don’t think you’re holding me back, Joel. You make me… really happy.”

“I see that, baby. And that’s why I worry. I don’t want my selfish shit to get in your way if we do this thing. Ever. You’d have to promise me, at the first sign of it, you’d go running from my ass.”

You blink hard, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. You’re hardly even able to comprehend the second half of what he said, fully stuck on the joy rising in your chest at his imposition. “If we do this thing? Wh-“ you start, lips trembling slightly as you try to get the words out.

“Yes, darlin’, if this ain’t a relationship by now, I don’t know what to call it.”

You press your lips together to fight it but a sparkling smile breaks through, spreading across your whole face now. Joel closes his eyes and sighs at the sight, knowing he’s just agreed to his own potential downfall. He still isn’t managing to hide the little smile pulling at his lips despite his worries.

“Easy, now,” he says, letting his smile crack through the facade even more. He leans over and slides his hand around your cheek, pulling you closer as he finishes closing the gap between you and kisses you. You kiss him back softly, relishing in the feeling of it after this new confirmation from him. When Joel pulls away, there’s a beautiful, soft look in his eyes.

“My girl,” he says quietly, gaze locked onto yours. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you say breathlessly, and you mean it wholeheartedly. You can’t imagine being anyone else’s, feeling the constant, burning passion and care that you do for Joel for anybody but him.

“You okay with me being a jealous, possessive bastard? Needin’ to fuck you half to death every time anyone gets any ideas ‘bout you? Barely able to keep my hands off you around everyone else to remind ‘em you’re all mine?” Joel lists off, his voice growing hoarse with need as he looks at you hopefully with a sly smile.

“God, yes,” you breathe out. Even hearing him describe those situations makes you ache between the legs, and you know he’s going to the absolute death of you. “I fucking love all of it - we were made for each other, Joel. Let you do anything you need to me any time if it means I get to remind you I’m yours,” you say, hips lurching towards him as you feel slickness gathering in your underwear.

“Oh, really? Anything any time?” he repeats back to you, his features a shade darker now.

“Mhm,” you murmur with glazed eyes. “I’m all yours to play with,” you tell him, and Joel tenses next to you. You slide a leg over his, turning closer to him, your body begging for any kind of touch from him. Joel goes to reciprocate and lean into you but stops short, pulling back slightly.

“Wait, darlin’. You gotta promise me what I said, though,” Joel says, sobering up a bit. You look into his eyes and dip your head in confirmation.

“Say it,” he demands, and you wince a little, desperation clawing at your insides.

“J-joel, I don’t want to go running from you. I won’t let you keep me from living my life. P-please, please just let me be yours,” you beg, not caring how helpless and vulnerable you sound right now. You want this more than anything you can ever recall wanting, just for him to call you his and mean it in a real, tangible way. You gulp down the sob that wants to come out of you, blinking and sniffling quickly to try to hide it.

“Okay, okay, sweet girl. I’m sorry. I just care so much about ya, you know that, right? I’d never want to make that same mistake again.” Joel’s hold on you tightens as he sees how much this is affecting you.

“I know,” you tell him, pressing your forehead to his. “You will never be a mistake to me, never. Couldn’t ever regret being your girl,” you say, liking how the words sound spilling off your tongue. Joel seems to be appeased by your words and believe them, because his features quickly melt back into a soft, heady gaze as he stares into your eyes.

“You like bein’ my girl, hm?” Joel asks, voice low and slightly scratchy. He brushes his lips across your cheek and you breathe out shakily.

“Mhm. Every time you say it, I feel… so…” you trail off with a little smile, unable to even find a word to express it.

“My girl,” he whispers next to your ear, and you giggle at the tickling sensation and joy his words bring you. “I’m thinking,” he says, placing a kiss on your neck right below your ear, “we should,” he continues, another kiss closer to your lips on your jawline, “celebrate.” His lips find yours and you kiss him feverishly, barely letting him come up for air as you slide your tongue into his mouth and flip your body on top of his, sinking down onto him.

“Yes,” you say simply, finally releasing your lips from his. Joel smirks, his eyes glistening with lust for you as he notices every curve of you press against his mostly naked body.

“So eager when you get what you want, aren’t ya?” he says, the sparkle in his eye turning devious as his hands grip your hips, pulling down so you grind against his quickly hardening cock.

“Don’t have everything I want yet,” you reply, pushing your center onto his cock again, and Joel groans at the warmth radiating off your core through your clothes as you brush over his cock.

“About to rip these fucking clothes off of you, my insatiable little thing,” he grunts, immediately diving into the demanding, possessive persona you’ve grown accustomed to when he’s turned on.

“I’d like to see you try,” you squeak out quickly before hopping off his lap and using the bed to bounce yourself down onto the plush carpet. You giggle as Joel’s hand reaches out and just misses to grab you and pull you back to him. He growls, low and deep in his throat as he sits up and quickly launches off the bed, coming right for you. You dart around the room on light feet, Joel’s lumbering form struggling to keep up with you.

“The things I’m gonna do when I catch you, sweet girl,” he says, a sinful smirk on his gorgeous face, “You’ll wish you never tried this little stunt.”

“What, gonna punish me with your big cock?” you quip back, giggling like a mad woman as you hop up on the bed and sprint across it, heading for the bedroom door. Joel simply growls again, laser focused on his mission to get you back in his arms.

You dare a glance back and Joel is close on your tail, but you’re already on the stairs, halfway down them when a large arm wraps around your waist, stopping you mid run and nearly knocking the breath out of you. You haven’t stopped laughing throughout the entire chase, loving how worked up Joel was over the whole thing, but it’s cut short as your torso slams into his arm on the impact.

“Got you,” Joel says, menacing and quiet, tucking his arm tighter around you and pulling you into his chest with a thump. You don’t have a moment to catch your breath, being suddenly spun around, Joel’s large hand on your chest forcing you down onto your ass as you sprawl back on the stairs. Your chest heaves with excitement when you look at Joel standing above you on a lower part of the stairs, keeping your body down with just his hand alone as he snakes his arm out from around your waist and uses that hand to yank his oversized shirt you’re wearing up and pull down your boxer shorts and underwear. He kneels down, his cock out moments later, and he tugs under your thighs to pull you right into him as he slams his throbbing, dripping cock right into you without any preamble. A loud, guttural noise flies out of his mouth while your own breath is caught in your throat feeling him fill you so quickly. He’s moving already, barely giving your body a moment to register the sheer thickness of him. His eyes are flooded with untamed, savage energy as he delivers his discipline upon your body, recklessly thrusting in quick, sharp thrusts.

“J-joel,” you whine out, still unsure if the walls of your cunt are adjusting to him. Everything feels so tight and raw, your whole body tense from the way he’s moving.

“Don’t wanna hear any whining,” he grits out through ragged breaths. “Take my cock and be a good fucking girl about it.”

You whimper, his words sending your walls clenching around him and another rush of wetness coating his cock.

“Mmm,” Joel murmurs, feeling how slick you’re quickly getting, pussy squelching under him with pure need. He pulls out so quickly your body shudders upwards several inches, confused by the swift change before Joel manhandles your hips roughly and flips you onto your hands and knees, barely giving you a chance to catch yourself on them.

“If you thought that was a punishment, sweet girl…” Joel ambles, stroking one finger down your spine, sending your whole back spasming under his touch. “Look at how you fall apart for me…” Joel purrs. “What would it take… to break you, hm? Have you beggin’ for me to fill you again…” You’re equally fearful of and turned on by his twisted tone and the look on his face as you glance over your shoulder to give him doe-like, pleading eyes. His hands grip each of your ass cheeks, kneading them roughly before delivering a hard smack onto one of them.

“Nothing… I-I’m begging now… Joel, p-please,” you cry out softly, praying he’ll listen.

“Lucky I’m feeling generous for my girl tonight, aren’t you?” You nod furiously, popping your ass in his face slightly as your hips writhe for his touch between them. “Even after that little stunt you pulled…”

Joel’s finger explores your slit now, gently sliding down it and to your entrance, swirling a teasing finger. “Could fill this drippin’ little hole with my cock, is that what you want, baby?” he purrs as he teases your entrance with the tip of his finger, pushing it in.

You nod quickly again, knowing he likes it when you’re eager and begging. “Fill me, fill me Joel,” you say desperately, fingers clawing into the carpet on the stairs. Joel’s other hand trails down your back with light touches from the tips of his fingers and you whimper, your entire body shivering with the tantalizing touch.

“Ain’t gonna say please?” Joel asks as his hand reaches your ass, squeezing hard enough to leave a mark.

“P-please,” you correct yourself hastily, swallowing hard, feeling your body starting to break out in a sweat with the animalistic need you’re feeling for Joel right now.

“Good girl. That’s better.” He smirks, withdrawing all touch from you as he repositions himself behind you, his hard cock beginning to push in between your legs devastatingly slow, and as usual, you find yourself impressed with the restraint he can have when you’ve never been able to resist a single thing he does to you. Once again without warning, he slides himself inside of you, pushing up to the hilt, getting as deep as your body allows him at this angle.

“That’s it, baby, such a good girl,” he says more lovingly now, fingers kneading the supple skin of your hips as he holds you steady while he trusts in and out of you. You’re already moaning, the feeling of his cock at this angle sending you into a quick plummet towards release every single time.

“F-fuck, Joel, f-faster,” you manage to whimper, pushing your head down further to get an even better angle for him to hit the sensitive spot deep inside of you. Joel obeys without any question or comment, an unusual occurrence, but you can hear from the noises he’s making that he’s just as undone at this angle as you are, able to get deeper and feel your walls clench around him so deliciously.

“L-look so p-pretty takin’ my cock,” Joel says, his voice straining with his ragged thrusts. “Play with yourself, wanna feel you come with me,” he demands, and you slip your finger on your clit, rubbing circles and melting into all the pleasurable sensations your body is taking right now.

Joel’s movements slow down, dragging his cock in and out along your fluttering walls and you yell out, his name spilling from your lips repeatedly. The languid circles on your clit quicken while you reach your breaking point, a fever pitch breaking within you as you moan out pathetically for him, your whole body shaking and shuddering as stars explode in your vision. Joel rides you through half your orgasm, a few pumps into you before your clenching walls draw his own pleasure out of him and he comes deep inside of you, crying out your name in the process. His hips twitch and buck as you whimper at the sensation, your finger continuing to rub as a second quick orgasm tears through you from the aftershocks. Joel curses and hisses through his teeth as you bear down on him again, feeling you explode underneath him while you come all over his cock another time. You collapse onto your belly, bringing Joel down with you. He lays half on top of you, the both of you unable to speak while you catch your breath.

Joel places sweet, lazy kisses along the skin closest to him on your back, sighing heavily. “Fuckin’ incredible, baby,” he whispers, biting you playfully on a sensitive, ticklish spot.

You let out a tired laugh and wiggle under him before he pulls out of you, moving to readjust your clothing so it’s back on completely. He tucks his arms under your shoulders and lifts you up, and then slides them to your thighs, continuing to lift you and you gladly let him, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist and arms around his neck as he carries you the short distance back to the bedroom. He’s gentle as he lays you down, following up with pulling the bedsheet over you and crawling into the bed next to you. You two kiss for what feels like ages, no expectation in any of the meetings between your lips, just the desire to feel the others warmth and affection. Joel lets out murmurs of “my girl” periodically between kisses, building the emotion inside of you until you feel a single tear slide from your eye, traveling down onto the pillow beneath you.

“Your girl,” you find yourself quietly whispering as the two of you fall asleep cradled in each other’s arms.

With your parents out of town, you get to spend the entire weekend at Joel’s without anyone wondering where you are, and it’s some of the best hours of your life, holing up in his house together. You only leave to take Benny for his walks, get him food from your parents’ place, and on Saturday night to sneak into your parents’ pool to skinny dip in the dark. It’s exhilarating, letting Joel chase you around in the pool as you splash at him with the promise of something sexy to come after.

Joel cooks for you - breakfasts and lunches, and he brings you fresh fruit and periodic snacks while you lounge around, binge watching new reality shows for Joel to try and a movie that makes you cry. When you look at Joel through your tears, you notice the shimmer of tears in his and try to suppress your smile. You order pizza for dinner, learning that Joel’s go-to is a pepperoni and mushroom pizza, which happens to be at the top of your list too so you don’t have to argue about it.

You live in Joel’s clothes, not even bothering to stop at your place for anything since Joel cheekily suggested that you go without underwear, leading to yet another mind-blowing round of sex that leaves you pleasantly exhausted. That’s how it goes, the both of you in close quarters together - one small flirtatious comment leads to Joel’s tongue on your cunt, your mouth around his cock, or him buried deep inside of you for countless times over that Saturday and Sunday.

Everything is so easy, and you never run out of things to talk about together over the course of the days you spend together. When Sunday evening rolls around, you pout continuously at the prospect of having to leave and for the two of you to have to go back to reality and work the following day. Your parents are supposed to come back tonight, and you know you can’t stay at Joel’s much longer. He caresses your naked body to his once more after a particularly frenzied fuck, knowing you’d have to leave afterwards he wanted to leave you with something to think about tonight. And rest assured, you certainly will be.

You groan, looking at him and opening your mouth to speak.

“I know,” Joel says, placing a gently finger on your lips. “You’ve gotta get going, angel.”

“Nooo,” you whine, burying your face in his chest.

“Clingy little thing,” he jests, counteracting his words by clinging you tighter to him and laughing.

“You’re clingy too, remember all the times you had to fuck me this weekend ‘cause your cock gets hard if I even look at you a certain way?” you poke back with a raised eyebrow, challenging him.

“Don’t start talkin’ about my cock now, or you know what happens,” Joel warns, even though he knows neither of you have time for what would come next. “C’mon now, I’ll walk you down,” he says with a nudge into your side.

You frown but slide out of Joel’s bed, throwing on another one of his shirts and pairs his boxers. You are somewhat eager to wear something that fits you after days spent with this as your uniform, but you’ll miss having the feel and scent of Joel covering your body at all times. This certainly won’t be the last time you put on his clothes, anyways, you think as a comfort to yourself.

Joel follows you down to his kitchen, where he holds your hips as you stand at the sliding back door.

“Thanks for stayin’ over sweetheart,” Joel says before tugging your body flush with his, leading you into a warm embrace.

“Should be thanking you,” you reply, thinking of all the food, comfort, and care he gave you.

“Alright, off with you now,” Joel says, reaching around you and opening the door. He’s still got his arms wrapped around you in a hug, and he moves the few steps with you until you’re on the threshold of the door. You giggle at the awkwardness of his steps following yours before he captures your mouth in several kisses, the two of you leaning outside of the door now. You pull away reluctantly and place a hand on his chest, smiling coyly up at him.

“Bye,” you say quietly, and Joel steps backwards into his house before you turn to head back to your parents’ house. It’s early evening, and they’re supposed to be back in a few hours, giving you plenty of time to shower and change into fresh clothes that aren’t Joel’s, take care of the house, and get Benny settled back into your parents place after spending the weekend with you and Joel. He’s been at your heels as you said your goodbyes, and you call for him to follow you out of Joel’s house.

When you look up from Benny and over the fence towards your parents’ yard, you lock eyes with one of the last people you’d wanted or expected to see - your dad.

Well, shit.

taglist: @paleidiot​​​ @mumma-moonchild​​​ @soph55​​​    

[mrbeastimagines-3]

Karl! X Gn! Reader

Suggestion: y / n

Reader pronouns: they/them

POV: First Person

TW: minor swearing, fear of thunder / storms

Story Size: Medium

Summary:

You and the crew (Jimmy, Nolan, Kris, Chandler, and Karl) were staying in a hotel for a video that you would be filming tomorrow. You were planning on exploring the city that night, but it quite so happened to rain, causing a power outage. Jimmy had the great idea of playing Truth or Dare in one of the rooms, which you and the others , you had no clue what was in store for that night....

~★☆★~

“great, it's raining?” I heard Nolan groan from the hall. Raining? I didn't even notice since I was so caught up in my phone. I glance out the window, and to my surprise, it was pouring buckets. "Aw shit!" I heard Karl cry, which made me jump in shock a little. "I was so excited for tonight-"

Oh right, Jimmy planned for us to go to this dinner place. I remember Karl being really excited when he first told us, for whatever reason. Ah, well. I got up to the hall, unlocking the crisp white door. Jimmy obviously overdid himself with the pricy hotel, even though we were only staying two nights. Anyways, I met back up with the boys and Kris. "Hey guys… so uh… what are we gonna do since... Y'know-" I ask, more montotoned than I thought. Kris shrugged. "I dunno. Jimmy?" She glanced over at Jimmy, who was just walking up to us. I stood next to Karl, who looked disappointed.

"Well.. There's always watching TV!" Jimmy suggested, right when a big boom of thunder crashed outside. Karl and I jumped, and all the lights turned off. Great. I've always been afraid of storms… I try not to show my fear, but I clearly fail, since everyone looked over at me in concern.

"Well uh…" Jimmy began saying, making no comment upon my sudden fear. "Why don't we play truth or dare?" He perked up, proud of himself for making such a great idea. "I'm down" Kris smiled, and Chandler nodded.

"Why not" Nolan agreed. They all looked over at Karl and myself. "I'll play! Y/N are you going to?" Karl softly smiled. "I guess... There's nothing better to do-" I half smiled back.

"Alright! Let's go to Y/N's room since they're the closest!" Kris shouted. "Wait why my ro-" I began saying, but then, gave up. We entered the dark room, rain still pouring and thunder still crashing outside. We could see well enough from the city lights that were still on, but I still found myself uneasy in this new atmosphere. Karl noticed this again somehow, making him inch himself closer to me. I tried not to blush.

"Alright, who's going first?" Nolan asked. "NOT IT!" We all screamed, pointing at our noses. We all laughed.

"Well Nolan, since you didn't put your finger on your nose, you're asking first!" Jimmy explained; which was funny since he explained it in his YouTube voice. Nolan sighed. I actually wanted to go first, but come on. You gotta make fun of Nolan any chance you get!

Nolan looked around. "Y/N, Truth or Dare?" He asked, looking down at me since he was on the foot of my bed. "Um... Truth" I said. Nolan smirked.

"Okay uh, would you date anyone in the crew?" Nolan asked, as Jimmy, Chandler, and Kris just looked at each other, entertained.

"Uhm..." I glanced around the room for a second. "Yes" I finally stated, giving no more information. It's true, if you couldnt tell by now, I had a crush on Karl Jacobs. It's been a while now. He's just so… ugh... Anyway, it was now my turn to ask.

"Karl, truth or dare?" I asked him, turning my head to my right so I could see him properly. "Truth" He said. "Okay uh... Who do you like-?" I wondered. He opened his mouth, but before he could respond, an even louder boom of thunder than before bursted through the room. I jumped, and without even thinking, cuddled up next to Karl, afraid. It was my defense mechanism I guess.

"Y/N are you okay?" Jimmy asked, concerned once again. This made me snap out of my trance. I noticed where I was, burrowing my face into Karl's chest. I opened my eyes and stopped nuzzling myself into his soft, silky shirt. "H-holy shit I-" I jumped up, look at Karl, my face completely red. "I'm so sorry It just sorta happened and-!" I started to say, quickly, and embarrassed, completely ignoring Jimmy's question. "No it's okay...! Don't worry about it." He turned away. I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed because he enjoyed it or embarrassed of me...

After we all calmed down, we continued our game, leaving Karl's question in the dust. This went on for hours, each of us slowly leaving the room to go to sleep. Chandler was the first to go, Nolan and Jimmy being the second (Jimmy had to drag Nolan out of my room, cause he fell asleep directly on my bed). Kris and Karl decided to leave too, since it was already 1 a.m, and we needed to get up early for our video shoot tomorrow. Right when they started to get up, the power turned back on. I heard Nolan scream some nonsense from his room, which made the three of us laugh.

After Karl and Kris left though, I snuggled up in my bed. But I just... Couldn't get comfortable. The thunder storm was over, but I didn't feel... Safe? With that, I got up, not even thinking. I inched towards Karl's door, quietly, slowly checking if the knob was unlocked. If it's unlocked, I'll go in... Was my logic. And to my 'luck', it was. I slowly creaked open the door, seeing Karl sitting in his bed, attempting to sleep. He was basically just staring at the floor.

"Karl?" I said quietly, making his eyes look up at me. "Y/N..! What are you doing here-?" He asked, patting down his hair so he could look presentable.

"I uh... Can't sleep" I mumbled, brushing my leg over my other and looking away. "But the thunder is over" Karl said, looking out his window he forgot to close.

"Yeah it's just…" I was about to explain myself, but I turned around to leave. "You know what, just forget it." I held back on his door knob, about to close the door. Karl sprung up, running up to me and grabbing my wrist gently. "No wait..."

I turned my face towards him. "Stay" He said in a soft, and sincere tone. "I-" Before I could decline the offer, he held my hand and brought me to his bed. "Here, I can sleep with you if you need a friend." He said, as we sat on the edge of his bed. "Wait that sounded weird..." he looked down, thinking his words through. I just giggled, which made him give me the most adorable smile I've ever seen. My face turned pink at the sight. His eyes sparkled with the moonlight that sprinkled through the window curtains. He then just stared into my eyes, and I stared into his.

"Y'know… I.. Well... That question you asked me at truth or dare?" He said, which made my eyes widen. He remembered?! "The answer is you" He blushed furiously.

"Wait you...?! You like me...?" I gasped, as he grabbed my hands. "Yeah." He smiled.

"I like you too" I grinned, and hugged him. We soon found ourselves cuddling on his bed, him wrapping his arms around me. "This is... Crazy... It feels like a dream..." He mumbled sleepily. I smiled.

"Yeah.." I said softly in response. "But... Even if it was a dream..." He muttered. "I'm glad it's with you... And... I'll always protect you Y/N, I promise..."

With that, we both drifted to sleep, in each others arms.

~☆★☆~

A/N: srry if this is bad or smthin! but ty for readinggg ^^

[blackh0legreensun]

Hihihihihihi loved the Michael headcanons!!

Please, more? 🥺

ask and ye shall receive:

- he has a shrimp allergy. he is not pleased with this on account of the fact that on his bucket list was "have an authentic cajun seafood boil"

- a solid quarter of Gertrude's cardigans were knitted by Michael. you can always tell, because he uses mismatched buttons.

- hes got little old lady chains on his glasses

- weenie hut jr with tattoos but he Loves piercings. you'd think he wouldn't have any but he's actually got a few!! his favorite is his tongue

- his favorite halloween costume was the one time he went as Alice in wonderland for an office halloween party (AND SHE LOOKED ADORABLE)

- the most pathetic wet kitten. if shes caught out in the rain??? the way he looks when hes all wet and sad and shivering, in a sensory hell of wet knitted wool, teary eyed.... please let him inside

- bites. will gently chomp on Gerry's arm just because hes bored. gnaws on it.

- i cant exactly pin down how he is in the bedroom, he isn't really... anything? he just does whatever. lmk if yall want nsfw headcanons

- hes the kind of guy people refrain from cursing around until he stubs his toe/is frustrated with the lack of research on a case and he starts swearing up a storm.

- a lot of people kinda walk all over him for obvious reasons, seeing that hes disposable and a bit of a doormat in some regards, but god, GOD

- he is slow to anger. that doesn't make you immune to it. it's the same fiery intensity as always, his internal dialogue when he's crossed is like... pure white hot spitting rage, cursing you, your mama, your house, your dog, your family lineage past present and future....

- and on the outside he's just like ":/ kind of a dick move innit."

- she doesn't know where to put the anger. he doesn't know who he is when he's angry. he doesn't know anything at all it seems.

- anyway he LOVES animals way too much

- rip gerry because poor michael will bring in a stray animal every other day, even ones that wouldn't otherwise touch humans

- "is that- Michael is that a bloody chipmunk????"

- "she's cold and scared :["

- he tries to help humans the same way oh he is a MOTHER HEN

- you cannot be visibly upset around Michael Shelly without her sitting you down, giving you a cuppa tea, and carefully rubbing your back and asking you what's wrong in that darling little voice of his.

- also he will knit you something for christmas. resistance is futile. just tell him your favorite color and yarn preferences- in fact, tell him your favorite stitch, too. the more details the better. he loves being creative in that regard but he's deeply deeply terrified of the perception of his work in the eyes of others. all he sees is the uneven stitches. what everyone else sees is a sweater knitted so well you'd think it was bought and the tag ripped off.

[mapis-putellas]

Don’t say I didn’t warn you

Advent day 12: Carry me?

Paring: sick Yelena x reader

Notes: the longest one yet!

“Come on,” Yelena shouts giddily as the rain water from the puddles soak her legs, spinning in circles with her arms out either side of her. “This is so much fun.”

You watch with a smile -from the very dry threshold of the doorway might you add, as Yelena jumps in yet another puddle. It was currently summer, and after weeks upon weeks of unbearable heat, the sky had finally let loose with a much needed torrential downpour.

It had started of small. Tiny drops of moisture dotting the windows and the cement, then with an almighty roar of thunder, it had begun to bucket it down.

The second Yelena had gotten a glance out of the window after putting away the dishes from lunch, there had been no stopping her. Both her shoes and coat had been left abandoned in the entry way of your home as she’d excitedly run outside, and despite your concerns that this decision might bite her in the butt, you couldn’t deny just how adorable she looks.

Soon, the sound of wet feet hitting the cement catches your attention, and you flicker your eyes over just in time to see Yelena running full speed towards a large, still steadily growing puddle.

Your eyes widen. “Yelena no-” too late. She lands in the very centre, and the power of her feet hitting the water has her absolutely saturated. Seemingly uncaring over this fact, she lets out a loud laugh and wipes at her eyes before turning to face you with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help but return it, not remembering the last time you’d seen her so happy. Knowing she’d be content by herself for a few moments, you disappear inside and grab a few towels from the laundry closet, not intending on letting her back inside when she’d be sure to drip water absolutely everywhere.

By the time you return, she was walking back towards the house looking like an adorably drowned rat, and you hold out one of the towels ready for her to step into. She does, and you don’t miss the sigh of relief that escapes her lips as she allows you to pull her into her arms.

“Did you have fun?” You murmur as you close and lock your front door before securing your arms around the small, shivering blonde, cupping the back of her head with one hand whilst the other rubs up and down her back in a futile attempt at warming her up.

She nods, “So much.” She murmurs contently as she nuzzles her nose into your neck, and you couldn’t help but smile as you press your lips against the side of her head. With the knowledge that she probably wouldn’t willingly leave your arms for at least some time, you bend and lift her with the intention of giving her a lift to the bathroom so she could shower.

“I’m not a baby.” She grumbles, but wraps her legs around your waist anyway, and you roll your eyes fondly as you pat her behind and begin making your way up the stairs.

“Being held doesn’t make you a baby,” you remind her like you’ve done many times before, and though she grumbles, she doesn’t retort knowing you were speaking the truth. Once you’ve made it to the bathroom, you set her down on her feet and cup her face before placing a kiss to her forehead.

Her cheeks flush, and you smile softly as you pull away from her. “Go shower and I’ll make us some hot chocolate, okay?”

“With whipped cream and marshmallows?” She tilts her head to the side, and you nod with a knowing smile.

“Duh.” You retort, and Yelena playfully flips you off before turning towards the shower. Taking that as a dismissal, you turn to leave the room making sure to close the door behind you.

You hum softly to yourself as you begin preparing the drinks, adding a little more chocolate to Yelena’s own knowing that’s how she prefers it. After adding a sufficient amount of whipped cream and marshmallows, you carry both cups through to the living room just in time for Yelena to make an appearance at the bottom of the stairs.

“You should dry your hair.” you say in place of a greeting as you give her a knowing look, sitting down on the couch and picking up the remote. Yelena huffs in fake annoyance as she comes to sit next to you, tucking her bare feet beneath your thigh as she reaches for her drink.

“It will be fine. You worry too much.” She mumbles distractedly as she sticks out her tongue to scoop up a marshmallow, and you watch her for a second before rolling your eyes with a fond sigh.

You knew it was another decision that would later bite her in the ass.

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You muse as you select frozen 2 on Disney +, a known favourite of Yelena’s that she would watch at least twice a week.

*

And warn her you did. Just two days later, Yelena had fallen ill with such a heavy cold you wondered just how she was alive. She was severely congested. Hazy with a high fever, and that wasn’t even mentioning the continuous coughs and sneezes.

“Baby, you know the beds a whole lot more comfortable right?” You murmur in quiet amusement as you reach out to gently brush a damp strand of hair out of the sick Russians face.

Yelena simply grunts in acknowledgment as she wipes uselessly at her running nose, and you fondly roll your eyes as you lean down to press a kiss to her warm forehead. “I’ll go get the bed ready okay? You stay here.” You speak, and this time, Yelena doesn’t even acknowledge you. She simply closes her eyes and falls into what you could only assume was a fitful sleep.

You weren’t offended by the action. Yelena was notoriously grumpy when feeling sick, and due to the fact you’d been together for over three years, it was something you were pretty much used to. The same couldn’t be said when you first got together, but that was a story for another time.

With another sigh, -because it sucked when she was sick, even if it wasn’t self inflicted- you leave the living room and make your way up to your shared bedroom. The bed was neatly made, just as it was everyday, and you don’t waste any time in pulling the covers back and knocking the decorative pillows out of the way .

You make sure there were tissues and water readily available on the nightstand before heading back over to the sick blonde, and you couldn’t help but smile when you realise she was in the exact same position you’d left her in.

Well, excluding her nose that was yet again running. Without a word, you grab a few tissue from the box on the coffee table and fold them in half before crouching down before her and pinching the end of her nose in a futile effort to get rid of the dripping snot.

She rouses slightly at the action, her face scrunching up in discomfort, and you quietly shush her with a gentle hand on her stomach as you finish with your task and make quick work of sanitising your hands.

“Time for bed baby, come on.” You reach out and give her behind a few steady pats in a futile effort at rousing her. Yelena whines quietly as she lazily bats your hands away, and you chuckle slightly as you instead reach up to gently pat her upper back. “Lena? Come on. Time to get up.”

Yelena again, bats your hand away, her eyes flickering open and sending you a pretty deadly glare. Before she could chew you out, you scoot a little closer and cup her cheek. Without thought, Yelena falls into your soothing touch, and your lips quirk up at the corners as you trail the pad of your thumb over warm skin.

“Let’s get you in bed, okay?” You murmur, and Yelena sniffles wetly as she gently bobs her head up and down. You release her face and go to stand up, but a gentle whine stops you in your tracks. You look down and see her staring at you with a pleading look on her face.

“What is it baby?” You question, and whilst Yelena’s cheeks flush a light shade of red, she seemingly responds to you with ease.

“Carry me? Please?” She murmurs, and your heart melts in your chest as you immediately nod your head. Normally, it was only ever you who insinuates holding her. So for her to ask, whilst nearly unbelievable, was absolutely amazing.

With a smile, you bend down and wrap your arms around her midsection. You lift her with relative ease, her legs hooking tightly around your waist as she buries her head into your neck. With an arm remaining beneath her behind for support, you bring the other one up to cup the back of her head and press a tender kiss to her shoulder.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

**

@goldenempyrean @alotofpockets @somber-sapphic

[fiction-is-life]

Hi!😊 I know you mentioned you were taking requests, so I was wondering if for 120. “Take my jacket, it’s cold.”

But it’s Rafe and JJ who like the same girl and it’s the two of them being idiots trying to convince the girl they both like to take *their* (JJ or Rafe’s) jacket😭😂.

Congrats again on 500 Followers!

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Author's Note: Thank you so much! I hope you like this! I thought this request was too cute! ❤

Summary: (Y/N) is in need of some warming up.

Warning: Pranks, slightly suggestive, posturing

~

You screamed, ice cold water raining down on you.  You immediately started to shiver, your breath belaboured because of the temperature shock.  When the water stopped falling, you looked up, seeing a bucket tied to the ceiling that you could only presume had been balanced on top of the doorway you had just entered from.

“Are you kidding me?  Why??” you shouted, justifiably angry at this turn of events.  At least you always make a point of never wearing white to parties.  That would be embarrassing.

“Aw, god, I’m sorry, (Y/N).  We wanted to see if it would actually work, but we were trying to get a Touron to go through,” Kelce explained, not very well, per usual.  

You just rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile so as not to let them know you found it slightly funny.  “I’m gonna go try to dry off.  Maybe run a mop over this so nobody gets hurt,” you call back over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen where it was a bit warmer and you had seen some towels.

Even after you had dried off, you were shivering uncontrollably, certainly not finding it funny anymore.  You tried to wrap your arms around yourself as tightly as you could as you made your way to your car, hoping you had a coat or something in there.  

“(Y/N)?” you heard a voice call out to you from the porch.  You thought it might be Rafe but you were too cold to think about anything other than getting warm.  “What are you doing out here?  It’s cold.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m looking for a coat in my car but I don’t think I have one,” you called back as loud as you could while your teeth chattered.  

“Oh, you can take my coat, (Y/N/N).  I was too warm anyway,” said a second voice, this one definitely JJ.  You could vaguely see him make his way towards you, shedding his jacket as he spoke.

“Oh, thanks, J-”

“No, take my jacket.  It’s cold,” Rafe interrupted, clattering down the steps, seemingly in a hurry to reach you.

You didn’t miss the glare JJ threw at Rafe.  “Yeah, it is cold.  That’s why I offered her my jacket,” JJ said, annoyed.

Rafe rolled his eyes in that endearingly superior way of his.  “I don’t think (Y/N) wants your cheap jacket, Maybank.  Mine, however, is high quality.  Lined with the best fabric money can buy,” he drawled, starting to put his jacket around your shoulders before JJ knocked his hands out of the way, making Rafe drop the jacket.

“Aw, man, sorry, Cameron,” JJ chuckled, helping you into his jacket.  “Guess (Y/N) has to wear my jacket since yours is all muddy.”

Rafe huffed, his eyes sparking with anger.  Before a fight could break out, you put yourself between the two guys, both of them towering over you.  “Guys, stop it!” you scolded, looking them both in the eyes.  They stared back at you, both of their eyes wild.

Seeing them both so passionate, gave you an idea.  You bit your lip, looking up through your eyelashes.  You grinned slyly.  “I’m sure we can work out a way where you can both warm me up,” you crooned.

~

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