#but gods that has so much potential for some good angst
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uselessgay10101 · 4 months ago
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If something happens to him I will kill everyone in the vicinity
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blizzardfluffykpop · 8 months ago
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alright~ a few updates about everything! so this weekend I'll be seeing changkyun in chicago- so I prolly won't be posting until after I'm alive again from that 😂😅 (I am vv excited about it- I just know I'll be vv tired when I return home). Anyways, I have a few fics in the works~ one of them that is a request 🤭 I'm vv excited to work on them! But I think I'm going to change my masterlist a bit when I come back. I'm going to retire a few groups from the main masterlist and I've been debating for the past year about it... But I think I'm going to add a yearly masterlist- So it would go from most recent to the beginning of this year~
I'm also thinking about changing my pfp- I haven't been really into stray kids for uh... years- But I will be sure to make an update about that if I go thru with that too- (It may be ji changmin next 🫣🤭)
Anyways those are my few updates 🥰💖
#in general my brain is so muddled outside of talking to my three closest and my mom i'm just... fogged- but god how i want to be#writing rn- i have 4 smuts and 1 fluff in the works (who would have guessed my fluff writer self has moved from not only plain fluff to#angst & smut this year? not me- but i'm happy about it) two are poly aus and the other two are about a certain 🌙~#kate rambles on from here#altho there is another vv big potential fic~ but i'm only counting ones i have lots of progress on-#and then the masterlist thing i've been thinking about forever- hwvr again i do not know if i'll have the energy bc i might be knocked#on my ass for another month after this trip (i'll be pretty much solely driving for 4 & 1/2 hrs there and another 4 & 1/2 back the next day#but the pfp thing has been on my mind for a while too- again idk when i'll get around to it but jinkoh has given me a vv good#idea esp for winter~ with mr. ji~ so i'm sure to have changed it by december~ (unless the change is too much for me- i haven't changed it#since 2018... so i'm kind of attached to it- even tho i don't even bias him or stan the group anymore...)#anyways this is full of me rambling- i could really go on tbh- bc i'm really trying to get my mind into gear- but these are my updates#let's see if i fulfill em- i'm bound to fill the fic ones- but the other two... yeah- we'll see-#kate rambles#blog updates#should i bring babydoll q & juyo to the concert bc if it wasn't for kyun getting me into dominic fike(and being into tbz during stealer era#i wouldn't have been a tbz ult... (outside of some other factors i haven't really disclosed) bc atp i'm vv close to packing them with me#i mean tbh a tbz pc was going- but now i'm 🫣: should i bring them to see the guy from my first ult group that caused the spiral-#that made me get into my newest ult group? (i love this butterfly effect more than i could ever express tbh- even tho i express it often)#anyways if someone actually reads these- i'm bound to bring babydoll q- legally that's my buddy- but juyo?? 👀
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hxxsxxng · 5 months ago
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Do You Believe in Fate? s.jy
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「pairing」 : childhoodbestfriend!jake x afab!reader
「synopsis」 : read the preview here
「word count」 : 15.3k
「genre」 : A lot of angst, smut, somewhat fluff, college au
「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!! cursing, lot of nicknames, mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, hangover, poor mental state, kissing, cuddling, alcoholism, toxic friends (not jake), teasing, crying, begging, distress, groping (consentual), unprotected sex, pulling out, loss of virginity, lowkey size kink, oral (m and f recieving), titty sucking, sharing a bath tub, mentions of hospitalizations, implications of potential death, depression. this is a repost
「authors note」 : i want to thank everyone for motivating me to finish this story and writing this was truly an experience that will effect me as a writer moving forward. i am tagging all of my mutuals so hopefully i could get some feed back! i love every last one of you
「taglist」 : @jakeflvrz - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun-deactivated20241118 - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyuen - @sumzysworld - @wonsbaer - @simpjay - @sjylouvre - @starboimoon - @blurryriki - @yzzyhee - @sincerelyrki - @hoonven - @heeseungsbm
It was the summer before me and Jake’s junior year of university. We have been working all summer and it’s another other day at the office. Putting in check information for the bank was a lot more boring than I expected . Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, repeat. There was no time to do anything else. We were always told that if we went to college, we would have a good job. That proved to be wrong. 
Both Jake and I are going through college together, though he landed a way better paying job than I did. When it comes to bills, he ends up having to pay more than me, but he swears up and down that it is not a big deal.
I set down my mug. I hear my phone ring. It’s Jake. “Hello?” he should be at work. “Hey Pumpkin, I got out early today, were there any groceries that we needed?”
“Oh, no I can’t think of anything.”  “Okay, Stay safe, I will see you later.”
Jake never really got time off of work but when he did, I usually tried to stay out of his hair and let him relax. I just continued to run reports, pretty much twiddling my thumbs until the clock struck 5 and I would make my way out of this hell hole.
Traffic was terrible as usual. A usually 7 minute drive turned into an hour. Days like this I just want to get home and throw all my stuff on the ground and lock myself away in my room. Maybe watch some TV. Or listen to some music while my computer is hooked up to it. Anything that distracts from knowing I have to go back to the job I hate the next day. My thoughts are interrupted by a honk coming from behind me. The light turns green. Thank God. But as soon as I pull away from the curb, a car pulls out in front of me. Damn those stupid drivers. I don’t even know how many times this month I’ve had to pull over so they could let someone pass. It isn’t worth getting into a fight with them about. I try to ignore them.
I made it back to our house just in time for the sun to still be out. I made way into the house and Jake was in the kitchen. It was an unusual sight. His after work routine typically consists of cracking open a cold one and playing his computer. “Hey princess” he greeted me.
I stand at the front door, taking off my shoes and hanging my keys on the rack. “What has you in a good mood all of a sudden” I ask suspiciously.
“Well since I got off work early, I figured i’d come home and suprise you with dinner since you just been eating so much take out recently” he replied nonchalantly. The thought makes me sick. “You didn’t need to do that Jake.” “Oh yes, I did. You haven’t been cooking for yourself for a couple months now. I wanted to show you how much your best friend cares about you” he says.
Reguardless of what I say, the food is made and there is no taking it back. I guess I can’t really argue with him over it.
“And besides, I know you have missed your mom cooking pasta for us when we would go to her house in Australia, I figured I should make some do you instead” he adds.
I slowly approach the table. He is still finishing up plating everything. He looks up at me and smiles. “It smells good” I say flatly. He takes off the oven mitts and wipes his hands on it. He sets my plate down in front of me and he pulls out the chair to my right and takes a seat.
“So how was your day Jake?” I asked awkwardly. He starts digging in and responds, “Not too bad. What about yours?”
“Same shit different day. Boss is always yelling at me and the company keeps treating me like garbage even though I am the only one who actually gives a fuck.” I complained, eating a piece of garlic toast. It tasted good, surprisingly good, considering the amount of spices he used.
“Well I am glad it’s Friday so you can take some time to unwind over the weekend” he attempts to comfort me but at this point i’m too tired.
“I guess.” I poke at my food a little bit. Why does Jake’s job seem so perfect? he easily makes twice as what I make and I rarely hear him complain about working either.
“You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, I am not going to force you.” I guess Jake noticed me being hesitant about eating the rest of my meal.
“It’s not that I don’t want to eat it’s just that I’m really stressed and I don’t want to keep you here listening to me complain about the same things over and over again”
“Look at me” he said. I slowly lift my head for my eyes to meet with his. “I promise I will never get tired of listening to you” he reassured.
There he goes again, sending those butterflies flapping in my stomach. I don’t understand why he is so gentle and compassionate. It gives me goosebumps. I decide I might as well stop procrastinating and start enjoying the evening. “Thank you” I say, giving him a small smile. His face immediately lit up. It’s kind of cute. The rest of dinner went rather smoothly. Jake kept the conversation going, mostly talking about my day and what his was about, and then we would drift off into silence. He looked so relaxed and calm that I felt completely at ease. Even if I knew I should feel bad for keeping him up with my whining, I couldn’t bring myself to.
I stand up from the table and wash my plate. “I don’t know if anyone told you today, but you look gorgeous as always” he sneaks up behind me. “You don’t look too bad your self Jakey” I returned. My face was already a dark hue of red.
I decided maybe tonight I won’t rot away in my room. It’s a Friday night, I’ll have a little bit of fun. Still inside the house though. It is probably too cold outside anyway. I realize I am still in my work clothes. I return to my room to take them off and throw on my most comfortable pair of shorts and a talk top and take my Nintendo Switch to the living room.
Jake was already waiting there for me. He had a bottle of wine and 2 empty glasses. He looked up when I entered and smiled. I gave a shy smile and sat down next to him. He pulled me closer to him, pressing himself against me. Our legs intertwined under the couch. For a moment I forgot about the work situation and the world. In that moment it just felt nice to sit close to someone who cared for me unconditionally.
“What were you wanting to play?” he breaks the silence. “I was thinking we could play some Mario Kart” I suggested.
“Yeah we can, but you already know I’m gonna kick your ass”. He loves teasing me. I punched his shoulder and chuckled.
~~~~~~~~~~
He is in my bed. I just woke up and he is in my bed. I don’t know how to react. Maybe I drank a little too much? I really don’t remember anything after playing a few rounds of Mario Kart. He looks so peaceful. His dark brown hair all tangled up on the pillow. The way his biceps look in his black tank top. He doesn’t snore, but the way he breathes when he sleeps is very cute. There is a slight hint of stubble on his chin, almost like he hasn’t shaved in awhile. His lips are slightly parted. His face shows such contentment and relaxation. He looks so damn beautiful. I have to admit he is pretty attractive and I think he knows it. And I can’t help but wonder about what would happen if I leaned forward and kissed him. His soft lips pressed up against mine. I think it would be okay. Probably wouldn’t hurt. Scratch that, it would probably hurt a lot.
I woke up surprisingly early for a Saturday morning. Usually I am in bed until noon, but it’s only 9:30. Opposite of me, Jake likes to start his weekends bright and early, so it is a bit strange that he isn’t awake by now. I won’t bother him. It’s probably better this way. I roll over onto my side facing away from him. I close my eyes trying to fall back asleep. But it seems to be impossible. My mind is too preoccupied and Jake’s body is far too close to mine for my liking. I groan quietly. It doesn’t help at all.
I crawl out of bed, doing my best not to wake Jake up. As soon as I step out of the room, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. It’s my mom. I guess I hadn’t returned and of her texts last night. She asks if I have slept okay and if I’ve eaten breakfast. When she sees I haven’t. She sends me a picture of the last time I was at her house eating spaghetti. “Just eat something sweetheart and take care of yourself” she reminds me gently. I sigh deeply before replying. “Mhmm thanks mom” I set my phone down on the kitchen counter and rummage through the fridge, hoping to find something appetizing for breakfast. As I search, I can't stop thinking about waking up next to Jake this morning. We've been best friends for so long, but recently I've started seeing him in a new light. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, how considerate he is, it stirs up the feelings I've been trying to suppress. I shake my head slightly and settle on making some eggs and toast.
As I cook, memories of last night come flooding back. The wine, the laughter, the gentle way he pulled me close on the couch as we played games. My heart flutters just thinking about how natural and right it felt being cuddled up next to him. But I can't read too much into it. Jake is my oldest friend, he probably sees the intimacy as purely platonic. The sizzle of the eggs brings me back to reality. I quickly plate the food and grab a mug of coffee before heading to the living room. I'll just relax and enjoy this lazy Saturday morning.
I'm about halfway through my breakfast when I hear Jake's footsteps shuffling down the hallway. He emerges, hair sticking up adorably, letting out a big yawn. "Mornin' sunshine," he says with a sleepy grin. I feel my cheeks warm at the nickname. "Morning. I made some extra if you want it," I reply, nodding toward the kitchen. "You're the best." Jake passes over to dish up a plate, giving me a perfect view of his lean back muscles stretching against his thin t-shirt. I quickly avert my eyes as he returns to the couch. As he sits next to me, our arms brush and I feel that spark of electricity again.
Jake doesn't seem to notice, just digs into his eggs happily. We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks up again.
"That was a fun night last night, wasn't it?" His eyes meet mine with a warm smile. "We'll have to do it again soon." I return the smile, hoping he can't see the longing behind it. "Yeah, it was really nice." Nice to just relax and be ourselves without any expectations or pressures. Nice to feel...that close to him.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
~~~~~~~~~~
Jake has a friend named Jay. When Jake isn’t at work or at the house, he is most likely hanging out with Jay. Jay is a go with the flow kind of guy and was kind of a womanizer. There’s nothing wrong with it, but I try not to hang out with Jake when Jay is there for that reason.
Jake and Jay always go out for drinks on Saturday nights. I can’t remember the last time he was home on a Saturday night and I didn’t have to take care of him the next morning. He routinely stays at Jay��s house that night then gets an Uber back here the next morning.
Jake and Jay's Saturday night routine carried on like clockwork most weekends. Around 9 PM, Jay would pick Jake up and they'd head to their usual bar downtown. The two friends would drink heavily, telling outrageous stories and shamelessly checking out any attractive women who passed by.
For Jake, it was just a guys' night out away from work stress. But for Jay, it was a chance to flirt and see if he could add another notch to his bedpost. Jake didn't partake in that behavior himself, but he also didn't reproach Jay for it. He figured it was just Jay's way.
Come last call, the two would be pretty sloshed. Instead of dealing with an Uber that late, Jake would just crash at Jay's place. He'd wake up hungover the next morning and request a ride from a car service back home.
When he arrived home disheveled, I'd already have water and painkillers ready for him. I hated having to nurse him after these nights, but it was better than having Jay's leering presence around me. His constant objectification of women made me deeply uncomfortable. So I put up with Jake's hangovers to avoid that part of their friendship dynamic.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Jake opens the front door. I can hear him complaining about his headache already. He sets his keys down and immediately lays down in the couch.
"Hey babygirl, where is the aspirin? Do we have any aspirin left?" he asks groggily. A small chuckle escapes my lips before I turn around to look at him, smiling slightly. “I already got it out for you, and here is a glass of water”. His eyes are closed as I place the pills in his hand and he smiles once they make contact. “Thank you so much for taking care of me princess.” he praises as he shot the tablets into his mouth.
I giggle. This man is ridiculous. A loud yawn escapes his lips and I smile. As much as I hate seeing him like this, I am content with letting him have his fun every once in a while. His shirt is buttoned incorrectly, showing off his muscular chest. I look back at his face. His eyes were opened and he noticed me staring.
“What’s wrong Princess?” he slurs. “Do I look stupid or something?” “No Jake, you look great” I reply truthfully. “You just looked a little tired is all.”
Jake rolls over on the couch and turns onto his side. “I know you’re going to tell me I should rest more, but it’s so hard to sleep when you’re not in the same room.”
“Really? You usually fall asleep within seconds. Why is that?” He shrugs. “Don’t know babe. Just don’t like being alone.” I frown. That’s true enough. Jake never really liked being by himself. Ever since we were in diapers, he had always been surrounded by people. His parents, coworkers…me.
I decide to ask something rather personal instead. Maybe that will distract us for a while. “How’s your mom doing lately? Do you miss her?” Jake doesn’t respond right away. He starts fidgeting under my gaze. His hands begin picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion.
“Yeah, yeah. I miss her. I wish she wouldn’t be working so much now. She used to work less back when we were high school, you know? I still get worried sometimes” he answers with a slight edge in his voice. “It’s okay Jake. You know she likes working for your dad. It helps pay for everything” I remind him softly. He nods slowly. After a few moments, he finally breaks the silence.
“Why do you ask?” I guess he was caught off guard by the question. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen them, Australia isn’t in walking distance, ya know.” I try to cheer him up.
He sighs and looks down at the couch. “I guess I just wish I was able to spend more time with her like I did when I was younger. It doesn’t matter though.” He shakes his head dismissively. “She’ll come visit whenever she can. I’m just glad we both decided to live somewhere else for college. I would definitely have missed our family trips.”
“Oh…” I bite my lip unsure what to say to comfort him. He’s always taken his mother very seriously. Even when he was young he often complained that she worked too hard and stressed herself out, which only made him madder. In all fairness, she did work extremely hard—even harder than he ever could. And now that she has found some semblance of stability, he worries that he won’t be able to provide for her the lifestyle he wanted for her.
I reach out and pat Jake's arm reassuringly. "I know how much you miss your mom. But she's doing what she needs to in order to help take care of the bills and your dad. You know she'd be here if she could."
Jake nods slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I just wish there was more I could do from here, instead of feeling so helpless being so far away. I know my dad would want me there as well" He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "At least I have you around. Don't know what I'd do. You kinda of bring a feeling of home to me. I hope that made sense.”
I feel my cheeks flush a little at his words. "Well, you know I'll always be here for you," I reply, trying to keep my tone light.
“Thank you sweet heart.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Our parents went to University together. That’s how they met. My mom met Jake’s mom in a sociology class, and they have been best friends ever since. Being college bestfriend basically guarantees that your kid will have someone to grow up with, and they took advantage of that. He has litterally been there for every life event my mom felt was important enough to let him in on.
Though we didn’t become friends by choice, we were latched onto eachother ever since we were introduced. I remember I would ball my eyes out when even Jake got sick because it meant I couldn’t hang out with him after school or have play dates on the weekends. As we grew up, the situations weren’t as innocent. I would confide in him when I was upset, and he would hold me in his arms after my nightmares. I even found comfort in him after my numerous hearts breaks in highschool. Though none of my relationships were ever that serious, I was still unmistakably heartbroken.
Jake was never really a ladies man in highschool, or in general. He studied more on acedemics, which I guess was a good idea considering where he is now. Although I’d never said anything about it, his dating career was pretty dead for several years. In my opinion, it seemed unfair to Jake to not go on dates after highschool. While I understood why he wasn’t interested, it seemed a waste not to try. After all, I’m sure he could get any chick he wanted if he tried, I mean look at him. He had grown from a cute kid playing video games to one who had a perfect body and gorgeous features to match. So yeah, I loved that he was a boy and my friend. But there was no way I could give myself completely to such a man, especially with our history.
Jake is a lot different when I’m around, a lot more caring and loving. I’m reminded of all those times when I would find Jake crying when we came back from vacation during our sophomore year, or how he would suddenly appear at my room door at 5am looking for reassurance or help. At the time, I thought it was because he needed someone to talk to about the things troubling his mind, but now that I think about it , it’s kind of obvious he’s lonely. His dad has been in and out of the hospital recently. I don’t really want to push Jake into going into detail about his condition because it might make him emotional, but I just know that it is another thing that is weighing on him.
When I first started seeing him more and more recently, I thought maybe he wanted us to become closer friends. I mean, he was always talking about how much he adores spending time with me, and how grateful he is to me for saving him and bringing him back to life. I think the situation with his parents are weighing down on him more than I realize.
~~~~~~~~~~
The rhythmic tapping of rain against the window pane fills the hushed stillness of my bedroom. I lie awake, Jake's sleeping form curled up beside me, his head pillowed on my chest. His eyebrows are furrowed even in slumber, mouth turned down in a soft frown - the worry lines etched across his features never seem to fully fade these days. Gently, I brush some stray locks of hair off his forehead, my thumb tracing over the crease between his brows. Jake's been carrying the entire weight of his family's struggle on those broad shoulders.
A quiet sigh escapes his lips and he burrows deeper into my side, one arm slinging possessively over my waist. We've been a tangle of limbs like this more nights than not recently. After the latest bout of bad news about his dad, Jake sought me out like a man wandering through the desert in desperate need of water. I remember the rawness in his voice as he begged to stay in his room, to be held and comforted, the same way I always have. Whatever Jake needs from me, he'll never be turned away.
Trailing my fingers through Jake's hair, I allow myself to drink in every detail of him in this rare moment of peace. The slight upturn of his perfectly sloped nose. The way his plump lips are parted just enough to allow shallow puffs of breath to ghost across my skin. He really is beautiful in the most masculine, rugged way. Not that I'd ever say that out loud - it would be mortifying if Jake caught me ogling him like some lovesick fool. Then again, I've been a lovesick fool for the better part of a decade when it comes to him.
Lost in the flow of my thoughts, I don't even register the soft snuffling noises at first. It's only when Jake's eyelashes start fluttering that I glance down to find him blinking up at me groggily. Without a word, he shifts until his head is cradled in the crook of my neck, placing a slow, scorching kiss to the exposed skin of the side of my neck.
The world seems to screech to a halt. That...was definitely intentional. Purposefully intimate. There's no way it was an accident or a brief moment of sleep-hazy confusion. Not with the way Jake's pupils are blown wide, his lips parting to reveal the tip of his tongue darting out to wet them instinctively.
Just as quickly as the spark ignited, Jake seems to deflate, burying his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder with a muffled whimper. His hands are fisting in the fabric of my sleep shirt, clutching me with a white-knuckled grip like I'm his lifeline back to the surface. Like if he doesn't hold on, he might drown. "Hey hey hey…" I gently stroke the length of his spine calming him. "You're okay now, everything is alright, relax..." Jake's breathing gradually slows. Gradually, he begins to relax, his fingers slackening their death grip in my shirt.
A few moments pass in silence before he lifts his head and looks directly at me. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, probably from all the crying. They’re red and glassy, a stark contrast to his usually flawless complexion. "Sorry," he murmurs. I shrug slightly. "Don't apologize." After a few sniffles, I feel his breathing become more consistent and his face is dry. He starts to do that cute breathing that I talked about. After I realized that he has met some sort of peace and fell asleep, I fell asleep soon after.
~~~~~~~~~~
The morning light filters in through the cracks of my blinds, shining over Jake's sleeping body in a soft glow. My eyes trace the line of his jawbone, the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest as he breathes. He looks so tranquil like this.
Jake smells so fucking good. If I could lay on his chest and take it his scent all day, I really would. Not to mention his face is extremely handsome. He has the face that other guys wish they had. It’s very obvious he takes care of himself.
I can't stop replaying that moment from last night over and over in my mind. The heat of Jake's lips pressing against the skin of my neck. Part of me was desperate to surge forward then and seal my mouth over Jake's, to finally give in to the magnetic pull that's been drawing me to him.
But I didn't. I couldn't. Because I'm also terrified of what exploring these feelings could mean for our relationship.
Losing him isn't an option I can fathom. And he seemed to make the same choice in that moment by turning away, burying his face against my neck with a whimper that could have been either anguished or relieved.
We're cowards, the two of us. Content to dance around the fire instead of being set ablaze
Part of me wonders if Jake was hoping for something in return. Maybe a kiss? Maybe he did it to show it trust and comfort for me. He knows what he is doing. The moment his lips touched my neck, my whole body shivered. I wanted more but I contained myself.
My body still hums with the memory of his kiss, nerves tingling with equal parts of dread. I want to reach out and trail my fingertips over the golden skin of his forearm, to breathe him in and see if he tastes how I've imagined on my tongue.
How many more moments like last night can I survive before the truth comes out? I don't have the answers. All I know is that I'm still undeniably his - body, mind and heart.
It has been too many nights where I imagine his lips against mine. The way he chills my spine when whispers in my ear makes me crave hearing his voice. I wonder what he would be like in a relationship with me, he treats me like a princess already, I don’t know how much better it could get.
My mind drifts to memories of him holding me tight when I was upset, his muscular arms engulfing me in a warm embrace. The feeling of safety and contentment that would wash over me in those moments. If I could experience that every night by his side, it might just be pure bliss.
I fantasize about waking up intertwined with Jake, our legs tangled together as we trade kisses and touches unhurried by the outside world. Combing my fingers through his bed hair while he peppers light kisses along my jawline.
Maybe there could be slowmake-out sessions on the couch, all heated caresses and desperate roaming hands before things inevitably progress further. I would lavish every sculpted line of Jake's body with devoted attention. I imagine he would be an attentive, generous lover, just as giving in the bedroom as he is in every other aspect of his life.
I also can’t get over the mental hurdle that maybe it is kind of gross that I see my bestfriend this way. I could easily mistake all of the kind things he does and how he treats me as something more than what he intends it to be, and that would make me uneasy. I have never done anything sexual with him and anything that would imply sexual attraction, yet I am still here wondering what it is like to have sex with him.
~~~~~~~~~~
I really need to get my feelings sorted out soon because they are just going to keep building up until they eventually burst, and I really don’t want Jake to witness that.The week went the same again. and again. and again. Wake up, go to work, do nothing after. But recently, Jake got a promotion at his job, which was grounds for celebration.
The local diner is busy with the lunch crowd, the air thick with aromas of burgers sizzling on the griddle and fresh baked pie. Jake and I slip into our usual corner booth, the cracked vinyl cushions molding to our forms like old friends. This place has been our go to spot since we started university here. We've shared so many moments in this very booth over the years. Happy celebrations or acing a big exam.
Which is why the thick tension clouding the air between us right now feels so alien. Instead of our usual easy camaraderie, I can barely look at Jake without my pulse kicking up. The memory of his firm chest brushing mine, those plush lips just a table length away, has my skin flushing hot. I squeeze my thighs together secretly, desperate for any kind of friction to alleviate the slow burn of arousal low in my belly.
Just being this close to Jake is enough to have that want unfolding all over again. Filling my head with flashes of how it could feel to finally give in - his weight blanketing me, our bodies moving together in a sinuous rhythm as his mouth trails searing kisses along my neck. "Hey." Jake's low rumble jolts me out of the vivid fantasy.
"You're zoning out, sweetheart. Everything okay?" My cheeks flame darker, that suddenly seems too intimate. I duck my head, but not before catching the unmistakable smirk curling at the corners of Jake's lips. That insufferable, cocky smirk he knows drives me crazy. I want to kiss it off his stupidly perfect face. Or maybe bite at the sharp line of his jaw, put that arrogant look to better use while I'm straddling his lap and--
"Fine," I mumble, hooking a loose strand of hair behind my ear to avoid meeting Jake's eyes. The small movement causes our elbows to brush together on the tabletop. His skin is so soft. Jake's brow furrows, like he doesn't miss the way I've gone tense and flustered all over again. Before I can blink, his hand is covering mine. Those long fingers tenderly stroking along my knuckles, smoothing over my suddenly clammy skin.
Slowly, purposefully, Jake tugs my hand closer until my palm is cupping his scruffy jaw. I suck in a sharp, shaky breath at the contact, at being able to feel the rasp of his five o'clock shadow against my sensitive skin. Jake holds me there for a moment, those meltingly warm eyes boring into mine like he's trying to read my mind.
Then, in the most tempting act of torture imaginable, Jake presses his lips to my wrist in the barest brush of mouth against pulse point. I swear I could die right then and there. He slowly pulls away, looking up to meet my eyes once again. Our gaze meets, intense and lustful, filled with a hunger that only he knows how to create. This feels so wrong, so dangerous. The fact he's staring down at my lips, licking his subconsciously causes a slight hitch in my breathing. A tiny part of me wants to lean forward and press my lips to his. But I stop the impulse with the thought of what we did last night, and the consequences of getting caught again.
Instead, I let out a sigh and break eye contact before pulling my hand away and placing my elbow on the table. I rub my thumb across my wrist absentmindedly while avoiding Jake's gaze, the words I want to say stuck somewhere inside my throat like rocks. There isn't anything I can do. What I have with Jake is different now. I'm scared shitless to tell him how I truly feel.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?" Jake asks, worry laced into his tone. He places a hand on my thigh, making me jump slightly. “It’s nothing, really” I lied. The server comes over to the table to take our order. “What could I get started for you to drink” he says.
-
Our meal goes by normally, Jake pretending that he had done nothing earlier. Afterward, we head home, the silence thickening the further into town we get. There’s nothing for me to say, no reason to prolong this conversation I’m dreading anymore. He must sense my sudden change of mood. He drops his arm from around my shoulders and lets his hand fall limply back onto his knee.
We walk silently in the direction of our house. Neither of us speaking. It’s almost as if we’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. I have an overwhelming urge to turn to him and kiss him.
~~~~~~~~~~
I can’t stop thinking about Jake. He is the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. Over the past few weeks, I feel like he has become a lot more touchy, which don’t really mind. He smiles for a little longer when we eat together. We have slept in each others room a lot more often than before. I may just be over analyzing it.
Jake is going out with Jay again. As usual, I don’t plan on him coming home tonight, and I will wake up to a hungover Jake. Jay isn’t really the friend to take care of you when you feel ill, so that responsibility is left on me.
I hate to admit, but when Jake isn’t home for a night, I fight the urge to sleep in his bed. I have been sleeping in his bed with him so often that it leaves me in withdrawal when we aren’t in the same bed.
Just being in his room, his scent diffused in the air, it makes me miss him so much more. Even without thinking about the fact that it is his room, the bed is so much more comfortable than mine, which is all the better reason to sleep there.
I walk in, already in my shorts and t-shirt, and wonder around. He has the picture of us that his mom took when we were first leaving for Korea framed on his nightstand.
I pick it up and examine it closely. It is the one photo where we didn’t appear stiff. I remember the day clearly; I was standing with him, grinning broadly. I never expected to smile so much when I was young, but my memories of our trip leave a bright happy feeling inside my stomach.
I set the photo back down and I lift the blanket from the corner of the bed. I slide into the bed, laying on his side like I usually do when he isn’t here. I instantly melt into the sheets. I scroll on my phone whilst fighting my eyelids to stay awake, but eventually I fall asleep prematurely.
Jake usually keeps his room pretty cool, which calls for cuddling closely under the blankets. In the middle of my sleep, I am shot awake when my cold limbs are instantly warmed by an unexpected sensation. Why was Jake home?
Jake continues to get comfortable under the blanket, not even batting an eye at the fact that I was just sleeping in his bed. I pull him closer by his waist to fulfill the rest of the warmth that my body craves.
“Why are you shivering sweetheart, you could have turned on the heater.” he worries.
“I wanted the temperature to be tolerable when you got back in the morning” such a stupid explanation. “Speaking of, why are you here right now? what happened to Jay’s?” I questioned, completely forgetting how we got into this situation in the first place.
“Jay was feeling ill so we called it a night pretty early, I only got three shots down.”
Jake runs a lazy finger over my hip bone and leans in to nuzzle the crook of my neck. Shit. He’ll notice the way I react to his touches and I won’t be able to explain myself. Fuck.
“I thought I would come to my room and catch up on sleep but look what we have here instead” he says with that stupid smirk on his face.
“Oh- oh I’m sorry.” I slowly pull away from him to make way back to my room. “No babe, please don’t go, I want you to stay” he begs while keeping our fingers latched to keep our extended arms together. He then latched his hand around my wrist to slowly pull me back down to his level on the bed. It’s all happening too fast. He uses the same hand to comb his fingers through the strands at the bottom of my hair on the back of my head, and keeps his hand there entangled. He uses his hand to guide my head into a sensual kiss. He gently pressed his lips against mine. So plump, so dreamy. I reciprocated the kiss instantly, matching his pace and moving our lips in sync so perfectly. The way our lips intertwined so naturally gave me actual chills.
After giving me what I have dreamt about for years, he pulls away, leaving a string of saliva to connect our lips. He looks into my eyes, his pupils as voids. “Please stay” he whispers again. I nod dumbly, my brain still short circuiting as Jake bites is bottom lip. He’s so fucking beautiful, my eyes are practically burning holes into his lips.
His fingers gently run over my cheekbone, lingering on my jawline, tracing along my nose. “How did I ever deserve someone as beautiful as you?” he murmurs. His voice is full of admiration and love and affection. He trails his fingers along my jaw, pausing to lightly graze my collar bone, making goosebumps erupt across my skin. The heat radiating off Jake’s body is practically burning me alive.
Without thinking about it for a second longer, I close the gap between our lips again. We moved in sync, in harmony. It feels like my lips were only made to kiss his. He rests his free hand on the side of my face and uses it as grip to deepen the kiss. Kissing him I had a sense of saftey. The longer our lips were together, the more open I was to his attempts at adding tongue into the mixture. It was a sloppy wet mess, but is all I have ever wanted.
I slide my hand between out warm bodies and feel across his obvious bulge in his boxers. He instantly let out a groan when I took his imprint into my palm. I stroked it gently as we continued with intertwined tongues. His grunts and breathlessness was insanely arousing.
It was clear that we were both extremely sleepy. After a few more minutes of kissing, we eventually pulled away, with no words spoken.
I try my best to hold in my moans as the warmness travels up my body like lava. He stops tracing my collarbone to trail his hands up the side of my body, stopping to stroke a line of soft kisses along the side of my neck.
My hands grasp tightly at the material covering Jake’s shoulder blades and I use that leverage to get back under the blankets with him. We both face eachother, with our legs crossing randomly over one another. He once again rests his head in the crook of my neck, leaving a kiss like he did once before. Only this time, I know his true intention.
~~~~~~~~~
The fall semester is starting back up again. Junior year, both is our schedules are jammed packed with upper division classes. Having to balance so many classes and still having to work to keep up with the bills for the house, Jake and I hardly see each other. Even though I love spending every single day with him, I feel like I’m living with a ghost whenever I see his empty seat. When I wake up every morning to find him gone, my heart starts to ache. It hurts knowing that we might not spend as much time together. I know that the sooner that this semester ends, the easier everything will be.
The end of the semester wasn’t going to be soon though, it’s barely September. I’ve decided to try and set a study date with Jake and make sure nothing was overlapping the times. We eventually agreed apon Thursday night after he got off of his afternoon job. Maybe around 8 o’clock. I was getting a head start on my Statistics work before he showed up because I knew it would take me a while. He eventually showed up close to 8:30.
I had my headphone covering my ears, shoulders slumped over my desk, and he comes up behind me and take my shoulders in his hands and sensually massages. “Ah thank youuuu~~~ my muscles are tight” I jumped at the unexpected pressure. He drives his thumbs a little bit deeper into my blades and slides his straight arms down my stomach for a hug. “I missed you” he griped with puppy dog eyes, resting his head on my shoulder. I take off my headphone and hold both of his forearms and pull him deeper into this awkwardly positioned hug.
After a few seconds he pulls away and grabs out his bag with his laptop, and runs to his room to grab his chair to pull up next to mine. I was still seated, watching, unable to take my eyes off him. He settles himself and puts the laptop on his knees in front of him. He opens his notebook, and turns the page to the worksheet for this month. My fingers naturally find their way to his back and scratch gently while he looks over his work. They made their way up his clothed back and into his hair and I ran them through this tangled hair. He let out a sigh of fufillment and he allows himself self to close his eyes to fully take in the relaxing feeling. He breaths in deeply and slowly, taking in my coconut scent.
“Fuck it” he says under his breath.
He turns in my directed and crashed his lips into mine with no hesitation. He wraps his arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. I was startled at the quick change in plans but my lips soon melted into his and I was under his control. My tongue dances along his bottom lip, asking for entrance as he obliges and gives access. He lifts me from my chair and pulls me over to straddle his thighs.
He guides his lips to mine again, running his hands down my back as he pushes me lower into his lap. I wrap my legs slightly around his waist for some sense of support. The sensual make out and lap straddling goes on and on, until he breaks away slightly to speak, “You can move if you want sweetheart”.
He reconnects our lips and I find myself needing any sort of friction to ease the pressure building between my legs. Subconsciously grinding my core over his thigh slowly. I bite down on his lower lip causing him to suck on my tongue immediately as a response. God, he tastes so good, like the cocoa butter lip balm I got him for his birthday.
I continue grinding over his thighs picking up the aggressiveness, as he continues to run his hands through my hair. “Feeling desperate, darling?” he teases, smirking as he tries to pull me back into a kiss. “Shut up” I harden my fist and hit the front of his shoulder. He always finds a way to tease me. He chuckles as we connect our lips once again.
He slides both of his hands under my thighs stands up from his chair, and I wrap my legs around his body as he carries me to the bed. He slowly lays me down on my back with my legs still wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t break the kiss but as soon as he sets me down, I can feel his erection bulging through his pants rubbing against me sweet spot. We stop kissing momentarily as he looks at me, with lust filled eyes. He lets one of his hands rest on my chest, while the other traces along the side of my neck to my chin, tilting my head upward and pressing his forehead against mine. “Look at how gorgeous you are right now,” he says with pure adoration. “I can’t help myself when I’m with you.” A sudden surge of desire hits me and my hands grip his hips tighter as he starts to trail kisses on my jawline. I can feel an undeniable wetness spreading in my panties. I am becoming desperate.
I placed my hands at the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it up, but he finished the job and lifted it over his head and threw it to the side. I have seen Jake shirtless a million times over but this time is different. It feels more intimate than the last ones I have seen. I felt my throat tighten as my eyes were drawn to his chest which looked absolutely flawless. “So beautiful” I whisper and I trace my fingers over his abs and chest. His body looks perfectly carved and sculpted by a god. “It’s all for you, baby” he cooed.
I reach my arms around his back and gently dig my nails into his skin as he continues to kiss me. He grabs the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, revealing my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra since I had been home all afternoon, and I definitely wasn’t expecting this. As soon as he sees them, he takes one of them in his hand. He holds my right breast in his palm and gently rubs it between his thumb and index finger.
His gaze remains focused on my chest as his mouth begins to travel down, taking his time to enjoy each and every piece of my body. He stops to give me another kiss before placing his lips on my nipple. He sucks on my nipple whilst his teeth nipped at my flesh, causing me to moan lowly. I grabbed his hair pulling him closer to me. I grind my pelvis onto his dick, eliciting a groan and he removes his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound, to look at his next target intensely. He took my other breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around my nipple and softly sucking, making me arch my back and having a moan escape my lips. Jake trails his hands down my waist while keeping his mouth latched to me.
His fingers went into the top of my sweatpants and I stopped him. “I have never done this before” I admitted. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions. How could I ever want him to stop? He is the only person I have ever imagined losing my virginity to. That aside I simply answer “No, Jakey, I trust you”
He continues to pull me pants down and off my legs and throws it to the side like he did with the other articles of clothing. He licks up my neck and comes to my ear. “I have never done this either, we can learn together” he whispered. Hearing this made my noticibly more wet, the way he whispers into my ear raises every single hair on my body. The thought of us having our first times with each other made this whole so much more meaningful and made me a lot less hesitant.
The only thing I have left on are my black panties and Jake looks like he is a man with a mission. I grab his bulge through his jeans and gently massage. He becomes a groaning mess as I palm his desperate tip. He is barely even able to keep his lips a decent distance apart for me to kiss him. “Fuuuck your hand feels so good” I take my other hand to start unbuckling his jeans, which he seems to have no problem with.
I pulled the belt off and unbuttoned his jeans and pulls them down, to where he took them all the way off. All he has left is his boxers. I can clearly see the imprint of he large cock through the thin fabric. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Does it look too big?, we can stop now if we need to” he questioned, seeing the fear on my face. I gulped and said “No, I can take it.”
I continued stroking through his boxers and he moved my panties to the side and rubbed gently on my folds. I gasped at the feeling. The better it started to feel, the less and less I was able to focus on Jake and more on myself. He had me wrapped around his finger. No amount of masturbating could compare to the way he is making me feel within these few minutes.
He slid his fingers down my clit and inserted one. He pumped it in and out until I felt that I was ready for more. Then 2. It hurt a little more but I slowly got used to it. He leaned his head down while his fingers still stuffed me and started leaving kisses on my clit. For having so little experience, he worked his finger and tongue like a professional. The way his tongue danced across my sensitive bud made my body shutter, and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
“I love the sounds of your whimpers” he moaned against my clit teasing me. I couldn’t even respond. My breathing quickened, and the more his fingers fucked me, the more I could tell how wet I was getting. I whimpered again and I gripped his hair signaling how good he was making me feel. “It tastes just as sweet as I imagined” he praised. He has imagined this before? What else has he imagined?
His fingers slowed down and he slipped two inside of me simultaneously. My hips bucked up and I let out a small gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He continued working his fingers inside of me. He was eating like a man who hadn’t seen a meal in a week.
“I want to taste you now.” I protest, pulling his face up for a kiss. His eyes look like he is drunk as his tongue swirled with mine and he gave me a slow deep kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, then bit me, and finally opened his mouth and licked my tongue with his. He pulls away and allows me to pull his boxers past his hips and onto the ground. His dick sprung out. God, it was a lot thicker than I imagined.
I take the base of it and put my lips against the tip, swirling my tongue around. His muscular hand combs through the top of my hair and gently grips it as I begin to take more of his length in my mouth. I could feel it sliding smoothly in and out of my throat. His grip on my hair tightens and he guides me to take more in moderation. “God yes baby, that’s it” he encouraged. I looked up at him, the room filled with breathy moans and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I felt the waves of his voice vibrating through my lips as he spoke, causing goosebumps to erupt across my entire body. I could feel my juices flowing through my pussy and down my belly.
I continue sucking him until he is almost completely buried inside my mouth. He leans down placing his lips beside my ear. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer” he whispers, making me smile.
He slowly pulls himself out of my mouth and lifts me back onto the bed. I use my arms to cover my chest, I am a little nervous. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. “Don’t hide yourself, you look perfect darling” he said proceeding to take my tongue in his mouth. God this man loves using his tongue. I have never felt this type of intimacy before, and to think I am covering that ground with my bestfriend, was not how I thought it was going to go to say the least.
He brushes his tip in between my folds, spreading my wetness around. “Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop here, just say the words and I will stop” “Please keep going” I am practically begging. He seems to enjoy my obvious desperation. He guide the tip in slowly, trying not to overwhelm me. He goes in a little deeper. I wince in pain. “Ah baby go a little slower” I pleaded. I didn’t want him to stop but it was definitely starting to hurt. He held the same spot for a few more seconds, then slowly pushed more in. I have gotten used to the stinging, as it slowly turns to pleasure.
“Shit princess, you’re so fucking tight” Jake praises. He was getting lost in his own world since he has never felt a warm pussy wrapped aroung his dick before, especially not one like mine. I felt his tip hit the enterance of my cervix. He bottomed out. He didn’t move. He didn’t even want to move, he was just enjoying the moment of his cock being buried deep inside his bestfriend. “You ok babe?” he asked, concerned by the lack of movement from me. “Yeah, just give me a second” I replied, attempting to get myself under control.
I began to relax, letting the warmth envelop my entire body. I signal that his is able to move. He slowly pulls his cock out of my cunt, and immediately pushes it back in. He rests both of his arms next to my face and comes down to kiss me. I can see the faint beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “You do not know how long I have been wanting to do this” He whispered into my ear. Once again, Jakes words send a tingle down my spine. He instantly latched himself onto my neck, sucking harshly while still keeping a slow pace down below. I grip his brown head of hair as he leaves purple marks on my skin, bruising my neck. He pulls out and goes back in, this time at a consistent rate.
Our torsos are in complete contact and he sets both of his hands under my back. I wrap my legs around his waist to allow him deeper access, which he so desperately needed. His lips were locked with mine. Our tongues were dancing along with each other as well as our chests. Every time he would suck on my lower lip, I moan against his lips.
“This is what I have been dreaming about” He says breaking away and kissing my nose. He finds me comfortable with his picking up the pace, and he did with no hesitation. He nuzzles into my neck with his hair partially resting on my face. There was no pain left to feel and my whole body was washed over with pleasure. His length fit so perfectly into my warm cunt, like we were make to only fuck eachother.
Jake head still right next to mine, I turn my head and whisper “Jakey, it feels so gooood~~~~” with inconsistency in my breathing. Jake’s ears were pleasured as if he were listening to his favorite song. He slowed down the pace, only to drive his dick deeper into my swollen cunt with each thrust. “Oh my god it’s feels so fucking good, you taking my cock like this.” he whines in my ear. He pulls away from my neck and just watching himself fuck into my pussy.
There was so much sweat on his face it was so fucking hot. It was dripping off his chin and onto my shoulder and neck. His hair was starting to get wet. He took both of my legs over his shoulders, making sure to maintain eye contact. Each stroke was deeper and deeper. Faster and faster. He was getting desperate. I don’t know how much more my inexperienced pussy can handle. He takes his thumb and gently rubs my clit. Ugh, I have never felt this sort of sensation before, being fucked at the same time.
My moans became more uncontrollable and my legs started to close in. “Fuckkkkk Jakey I am about to cum” I am on the verge of tears, overstimulated with pleasure. The pressure on my clit mixed with the repeated abuse of my cervix was enough to drive me over the edge. “Mmmmm yes doll, cum on my cock” he says lowly. My walls tighten around him and my hips are shaking. My heart is beating at 1000bpm, not a coherent thought left in my fucked-dumb mind. He practically has to pry my legs apart to maintain access to my slit. He holds my hips in place as he gives me a few more strokes. His became less and less powerful.
Once he felt his orgasm coming, he quickly pulled out of me, letting out a loud groan, and shot his strings of white cum all over my tummy and chest. The room was filled with loud pants and the scent of sex. “You are all I have ever wanted” I reach up to tuck his hair behind his ear, not minding the fact that his face was soaked. We rest our foreheads together and rub our noses across each other as we both try to catch our breath.
After a second of recovery, He runs to the bathroom and grabs a rag to clean me up. I could barely move my body, my entire entity was more than sore. It hurt to move, all I could do is lay there. Jake returns with a cold washcloth, and starts wiping off my stomach. “Do you need help getting cleaned up babe?” he asks, sitting down beside me, his arm around my naked torso. “Could we take a bath together?” I suggested.
A bath together after the fact is far more intimate, and could give us some time to talk things over. “Of course” and smiles. “I can go get it set up right now, darling, you just rest for a few minutes” He gives me a kiss on the nose and forehead before heading to run the faucet.
~~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know how I could let this happen. I lay on my bed rerunning all of the events writhing the last hour in my head. I really don’t know why we both allowed it to go that far. I admit, I loved every second of it, but now that it’s over, we have to deal with the effects.
Jake comes back from running the faucet. He looks tired. Maybe a bath is something we both need. “Come here sweetheart” he brings a towel and sets it on the counter.
The bathroom mirror was completely fogged over. “Are you trying to make soup out of us?” I said jokingly. “I know you like taking your showers hot, so I thought maybe it would be the same for baths” he chuckled.
I dip my toes into the half full tub. Jake was right, the temperature was just how I liked it. I held onto his shoulder as I submerge my other foot. The water lapped over the rim of the bath tub.
I keep hold onto his hand so he can guide himself into the tub, taking a lot more balance and tolerance for him to try to get used to the boiling water. “God damn, you like it hot hot” he teases though I can see him furrowing his eyebrows at the heat.
“Oh don’t be such a baby” I tease him right back. He pouts playfully. I love seeing that kind of reaction from him. “I don’t mind” he mumbles in embarrassment, trying to hide the smile on his face.
Once his feet were able to get used to the water, we both slowly sat the rest of our bodies into the tub. Jakes hair is a mess, it’s going in all different directions. I reach out to tuck some of it behind his ears for him, and then cup his face in my palm. I stroke his cheek with my thumb. He tilts his head, there he goes with those irresistible puppy dog eyes again.
“What’s wrong baby?” he asks. I remain in eye contact with him. “Were you being serious? When you said you have dreamt about… that…?”
He’s silent. So much blood rushing to his face his cheeks are like strawberries. He scratched the back of his head. “I mean yeah… why wouldn’t I” he hesitated.
“I mean look at you, you are insanely attractive and we live together and have known each other forever. Of course my mind is going to wonder. It has wondered many more times than I would like to admit.” he explained himself.
Unintentionally, our bodies kept inching towards each other in that bath. I am some how a mere 6 inches away from his face. “Why haven’t you ever told me how you felt?”
“Because I was scared on how it would change our friendship”…. he had the exact same fear as I did. He was also afraid of losing one of his best friends. “If I tell you how I feel, you might think it’s weird or something” he whispers into my ear. “No I will understand, we have known each other our whole lives. How would it be weird?” I say softly.
He hesitates once again, and I can hear his heart start to pound. He closes the gap between us and rests his forehead on mine. “There is so much you don’t know” He breathes, still looking deep into my eyes. His words caused a flicker of anxiety inside of me. “There is so much I want to know about you, darling” I reassure.
“Well for starters I never thought this thing between us would become anything more than just friends” he confesses. It is hard for him to admit such things, but he has to show me that I matter more than he thinks. “It scares me, and I’m sorry that I let it go too far. I guess it’s because I’ve been waiting so long, and everything has changed so fast” he explained, he still had this worried look on his face like I were going to shut everything down. Everything had changed so fast.
“You have to stop worrying so much about me. You can trust me, okay? I’ll never judge or hate you or think any differently of you. All I want is for us to enjoy our first time together and enjoy each other. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you are to me”. I caress his face with my hands.
A small smile graces his features while he gazes back into my eyes. I lean forward and capture him in a long passionate kiss. Our lips moving in sync, tasting each others taste as if it was our first time doing it. We pull away and stare at each other. He places both of his palms on either side of my face, leaning in even closer. I place my lips in line with his.
My fingers run through his soaked hair, though I don’t know if it use from sweat or from water. “Jakey, if I am going to be honest, I have been feeling the same way. On nights where we don’t sleep in the same bed, I find myself getting less sleep and craving your warmth. I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us tonight. Admittedly, I have been wanting to do that with you for so long” I started ranting.
“When you were making love to me I felt like I was floating away and it felt so good I just wanted to stay here forever, like nothing else mattered. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to stay in this moment forever with you, but we both know that isn’t possible.” he continues, his voice cracking.
“Making love?” I chuckle. Such an interesting word choice. “Be quiet” he pushes back. “I’m just joking, but I agree”
He was clearly getting tired, letting out a yawn and fighting the force of his eyelids trying to close. “We should get to bed” I suggest. We soak the last few moments of the now comfortably hot water and get out of the tub. “You better not get water all over the floor, Jake” HE ALWAYS DOES THAT.
He grabs a towel for me and and one for himself and he wraps mine around my whole body width and pulls me for a hug. “I am glad we took a bath together sweetheart, try to get some rest” he whispers, and leaves an innocent kiss on my forehead.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next few weeks consisted of school, work, and sleeping in the same bed with Jake pretty much every single night. We would exchange passionate kisses and I would bathe him when he was too tired from work or hanging out with Jay. And he would do the same for me. We never went as far to have sex again. We weren’t scared but we felt like we should wait.
We are on our way back to Australia for fall break. Jake will finally get to see his parents and I will get to see mine. We get to have a whole week without having to worry about responsibilities. Which I know both of us desperately need. We touch down in Australia around maybe 3pm on the first Saturday of the break. We only brought carry on luggage for convenience and time.
“Have everything?” He questioned me as we were getting out of our seats. “I think so” I smile, so excited to see my parents. We arranged for Jake’s mom to pick us up from the airport. She had a large SUV able to fit all of our stuff comfortably. Once we passed through all of the security and customs, Jake calls her to see where she is parked. On speaker I hear her say “9 rows down from the south enterance” she explains. “Thanks mom, see you in a sec” Jake says about to hang up the phone. “Thank you Mrs Sim” I make sure she hears before he presses the red button.
We hurry to get out of the packed airport so meet up with his mom. The weather was cold and misty and it was hard to see. When we finally arrived outside the south enterance, we could hardly believe what we saw. Layla comes up running at full sprint in me and Jake’s direction. She jumped up onto bother of us, layering our faces and arms with slobbery licks and he tail wagging so hard it may as well had fallen off.
Once Layla was all calmed down we put our luggage into the trunk. We swing up the door and the vehicle seems oddly empty. “Where is dad?” Jake questioned his mom. “He is getting worse…. he wasn’t able to make it today, I had to take him back to the hospital last night” she explained. I could already see the heart break in his eyes. “Oh” We packed everything up and his mom offered for me to sit in the front seat. Honestly, I wanted to sit in the back seat and comfort Jake, so I made up the excuse that Layla should sit in the front.
The mood in the car ride home was off. I don’t know if it was from the weather or his fathers health but Jake was not as energetic as he was before. I know he doesn’t deserve everything happening to his dad so I will just try to support him through it.
~~~~~~~~~~
I never really gave it much thought, but the more I put the pieces together, I think maybe the reason Jake is so insistent on getting black out drunk with Jay on the weekends may have to do with his father.
Jake has never in his life had a healthy coping mechanism. I remember a lot through out grade school, he would feel guilty or take blame for things that were not his fault, just to mediate the situation. When he did this, he did not react to the discipline very well, but it seems like he would much rather face conveniences than to start an argument over the original problem.
Jake let a lot of people take advantage of him, and it is still something that we have to work on, but knowing the situation with his dad, I know he has a lot more things to worry about now that usual.
Many of the people excluding his parents are alcoholics, any family event we went to together, the main thing being passed around was a bottle. When we were younger, things made him build resentment towards them but the older we got, the more willing he was to try alcohol, only adding more and more each time until he is where he is at now.
Jay isn’t the type of friend to stop this behavior either. I will never understand why Jake is such good friends with him cause he never seems to have the best intentions or good interest in mind. I can’t be the one to tell him that they should stop being friends cause at the end of the day, Jake’s relationship with alcohol won’t be healed in a split second.
~~~~~~~~~~
Nothing really eventful happened over the span of the after noon, the rain put everything to a halt. I slept in the guest bed in Jake’s house for the first night but was unable to fall asleep for the majority of the night. Jake’s mom rushed into the room around 1:30 am.
“Hey are you awake? We have to go the hospital, it’s my husband. Please wake up Jake while I grab the keys” She said with an extremely shaken voice full of urgency. I shoot out of the bed and put my shorts back on and practically run down the hallway to Jake’s room. It is locked. I bang on the door frantically. “Jake! Jake get up now we have to go” I echo through the door. Quickly after he swings open his door with his shirt in his hand, in the middle of putting it on.
The SUV was already started when we got out the front door and we ran to get into the car and soon as we sat down she reversed and tried to explain. “He slipped into a coma. They said they are trying everything to get him to wake up but they have no idea why it happened because he was in decent shape before” she says with tears forming in her eyes.
I reach up to the front seat to scratch her shoulder to try and calm her. I don’t think there is anything someone can do in this situation to calm someone in this much distress down but I tried. She is going dangerously fast down the highway. I know that she has been working hard to keep them afloat and thing we’re starting to get better. After that I couldn’t stand to listen anymore and closed my eyes hoping that by some miracle she wouldn’t end up killing us.
After what seemed like hours we reached the hospital and were quickly taken to another private room where we could talk with him alone. Of course his dad wasn’t going to be able to say anything. But Jake still wanted him to listen. He took his fathers hand a caressed his palm with his fingers while he said what he needed to say. Once he was done, I gave Jake a hug as his red face were completely covered in tears.
“He will be okay, I promise” I reassured him. We walked out of the room to discover his mom sitting next to the window, face completely void of emotion. He hasn’t spoken a word since we have gotten here.
“You know…. he was really excited for you both to come back. He was practically counting down the days” she admitted, wiping a tear from here eye. “I was so excited with him” she added. Her words shatter my heart. How is she not screaming in anger right now. Angry at the world for doing this to her innocent husband. That was something I admired about her. She was always able to contain her emotions well, almost too well.
Seeing both her and Jake in this state was absolutely terrible. I knew it would only take a miracle to fix this given his dads condition. “It’ll all be okay, Jake, don’t cry” I assure him. “It won’t, how am I supposed to deal with this? How am I supposed to go back to school without seeing him, talking to him… it hurts” “There is still a chance that he will make it Jake, don’t give up on it. I know he wants you to wait for him”
He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was bury his face into my shoulder and sob. He tried to form words, but they were only choked noises which caused him to cry even harder. “Shh its okay, I am here” I assure him. Me, Jake and his mom spent the night in the hospital. His mom slept in the room with his dad and me and Jake slept in a guest waiting room. Well, I was the only one who was able to get some sleep. Jake was up all night worrying about his father. I could hear him crying as I were trying to fall asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
A few weeks had passed and his fathers condition remained the same, and to be honest, Jake and his mom seemed like they kind of accepted that this was the way that things were going to be.
We were back at the house, his mom would just go to work and lock herself in her room until she had to go to work again and Jake and I were preparing to go back to Korea for the Winter semester.
Mrs Sim did not want to see us leave, and she made it very clear. We were her last hope with everything going on with her husband. I really wish me and Jake could stay back to support her but we have jobs and bills that we have to get back to, and life can’t just pause for us. We promised we would let her know how we are feeling, how much we missed each other and everything else that went along with saying goodbye.
We leave in 3 days, and we made it our mission to hang out with his mom as much as we could before we left. She hasn’t taken a break either… no time to her self she just has to keep working to pay for the house and the piling medical bills.
Those last few days, we took Mrs. Sim out for lunch at her favorite Thai restaurant. She seemed to genuinely smile for the first time in weeks as we joked and reminisced about times when all 4 of us were together. One night, we rented some classic movies she loved and made her favorite snacks. We cuddled up on the couch, enjoying the familiar feeling of just being together as a family again, if only briefly.
Jake and I helped around the house as much as we could - running errands, doing yard work, and cooking meals to give his mom a little respite. We made sure to soak in every moment because we didn't know when we'd all be together like that again.
~~~~~~~~~~
When it came time for our early morning departure back to Korea, Mrs. Sim took us both in for a tight hug, her eyes brimming with tears. "Take care of each other," she whispered hoarsely.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ Jake grabs our suitcases out of the trunk and his mom pulls me to the side.
“Please promise to take care of him for me. You have always been a safe place for him, I can only imagine how he has been feeling” she begged. I held bother of her hands in the palms of mine. “I promise, Mrs Sim, I will do everything in my power to take care of him, don’t worry. You have other things to worry about” I reassure her pulling her into a hug.
Layla climbs through the back of the car from the front seat and jumps out of the trunk to say good bye, jumping all over me and Jake just like when we first arrived. “Yes you’re such a good girl” he scruffs up her ears while giving her a kiss on the forehead. I gave Layla some belly rubs before his mom guided her back into the car.
“Please text me when you board, and call me when you land, I need to know that the two of you are safe.” said his mom. “Of course” we pulled her into one last hug. “I love you guys” she sobbed “I love you too” we said in unison as we walked towards to enterance, leaving his mom in the parking lot.
~~~~~~~~~~
The ride back home was hard for Jake. 10 hours of restlessness. The only time I saw Jake act kind of okay was at our layover in Manila. I tried to leave him be for most of the trip.
-
We landed at the airport in Seoul and made our way back through customs and immigration, I swear the process of getting out of the airport is more stressful than planing a trip itself. We load our things into my car, missing the excitement that Layla brought to the car ride.
Before we got into the car, Jake comes behind me and turns me around into a hug. “I am really worried about her… my parents have been together for so long I can’t imagine how she would react with out him” he cried into my arms. “Your mom is a strong woman, I know it. She has you and I know she will be able to get through it.” I rub his back and lay my head into the crook of his neck.
I walk him over to his door and open it, letting him get into is and rest, we still had a 45 minute drive back to our place. I just let him ‘rest’ his eyes the whole way and I sat in silence trying not to wake him. The ride was bumpy, or maybe I was more aware of my surroundings not given that Jake wasn’t talking my ear off the whole time. I don’t mean it as a bad thing but he does a great job at keeping me company in the car. But that element was absent this time.
We were outside of our house quicker than expected. Jake was still fast asleep, he looked up he most peaceful than I have seen him these past few weeks I really did not want to wake him up. “Jakey we’re here” I whisper and gently grip his shoulder. He groans. He untucks his arms from under his shirt and rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light.
We make way up to the door, he didn’t bother grabbing anything out of the car but I was completely okay with grabbing everything if it meant he would get some rest. As soon as we stepped in the door, he took off his shoes and hurried to his bedroom, he didn’t ever bother changing his clothes before plopping onto his bed in pure exhaustion.
I found myself following him to the bed and sitting on the edge and grazing his back with my fingernails. My hands made way up to his hair and I combed his strands with my fingers. He turns over to lay on his back and I sit and admire his beautiful face while his eyes are closed. So peaceful. I couldn’t fight the urge to lean down and give his a soft peck before heading back to the car.
He didn’t seem to mind, his lips were soft as they instantly melted into mine for a few seconds. He didn’t seem supprised or shocked at all. He made it feel natural. “Thank you” he said, barely audible. I leaned in for another kiss, a smile building on my face as our lips met. No verbal response was needed, my smile against his spoke for itself.
~~~~~~~~~~
We had gotten back into our normal work and school schedule following the break. I still was not seeing Jake as much as I would like and it seems like I was getting less and less information by the day on his dad, which worried me. I tried to call Mrs Sim every single day to check in and get updates, as well as update her on mine and Jake’s life. She treated me like a friend. Like a daughter. I am very thankful to be accepted by her in that way.
Jake was clearly getting more stressed with work and school and I couldn’t figure out a way to ease the stress for him, all I could do was hope that it wouldn’t end up being too much.
Mrs Sim told me briefly once while we were on a phone call that me and her call way more often that her and Jake do. Jake has always been a texter and his Mom simply had to deal with not hearing her baby boys voice as often as she would like, which is why it was weird when me and Jake were laying in my bed around 11pm and his phone starts ringing.
Both of us were on the verge of falling asleep and the light from his phone screen made the situation more uncomfortable. At first Jake just reached over and turned off the ringer.
“Hey did you even see who it was? What if it was important” I question his instinct to end the call. “Fine let me look” he groans.
He reached over and grabs his phone and looks at the screen ‘Mom’ is what it read. “Answer it!” I urged him. Jake was hesitant. I think he thought that this was going to be the call, which he has been preparing to avoid at all costs.
Instead of letting the line go to voicemail, I snatch the phone out of his hand and answer if myself. “Hello Mrs Sim, is everything alright?”
“I am so glad to hear your voice. Is Jake around? It is important. Put it on speaker” she said.
“You’re on speaker” I informed her.
“Jake, your father is home, I picked him up about an hour ago. The doctor said that septic shock caused him to go into the coma, and they were able to treat the infection and keep him steady with some blood and IV fluids. He woke up yesterday and has shown no signs of complication ever since. I will take him back in a few days for testing and a check up. They saved him Jake… They saved him.” His mother explained ecstatically, crying tears of happiness.
Jake’s face immediately lit up, with what I could see from the light of the phone screen. He instantly started crying.
“Baby I wish you were here right now. he misses you so much” he claimed.
Jake couldn’t even speak through his tears and his hitched breathing. “I love you so much mom, tell dad I love him and I will see him soon”
He sets the phone down and buries his face into my chest, letting out full on sobs. the toll that this situation has taken on his body physically and mentally was very obvious and I know he has been wanting good news.
~~~~~~~~~~
Weeks had passed and we came back to Australia for the Winter break. Jake was more excited than ever. When he saw his dad get out of the car at the airport, I had never see Jake run so fast in my life. Their hug seemed like it was out of a movie and he had been latched to his dad everyday since being back at his house.
His parents kind of picked up on me and Jake’s relationship, and didn’t question why I was wanting to sleep in Jake’s room and not the guest room any more.
We were laying there facing each other, admiring each others beauty in the dim moon light shining through the blinds.
“Tell me Jake, do you believe in fate?” I questioned lowly.
He looks somewhat startled. “Y’know, I have never really thought about that. After everything that has happened this year, I think I would say that I do” he confirmed, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
“Yeah I think I do too”
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alloftheimagines · 7 months ago
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joel miller | complications
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words: 2.9k warnings: 18+ | angst, near death experience, blood, reader has a traumatic birth w/complications, PTSD naturally, joel reminded of sarah's death, newbown baby (yes they can be spooky! but this one is cute and safe), (please just somebody take that poor man's pain away) (or not because then what would we write about?) (also he and ellie are a little estranged like in tlou2) prompt: I was thinking maybe Jackson! Joel era and pregnant reader and then she almost dies while giving birth to the baby! Gives room for a lot of drama and angst, and potential comfort right at the end for our favorite old man. tags: (i know it's been a while since I last posted so let me know if you want to be untagged) @sweetbabygirlsworld @m4tthewmurd0ck @domaniquessidehoe @spideysimpossiblegirl note: you can read this as pedro's joel if you so wish, but i am in my game!joel feels rn
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“I can’t do this, Joel.” Your face creased with pain as another contraction wracked through you. You’d known that labour would hurt, of course, but you hadn’t expected it to come on this quickly, and so strong. You hadn’t yet passed the eight-month mark, and you weren’t prepared. Not even a little. You hadn’t even sorted the nursery yet, or found a crib.
Joel held your hand on the floor of your living room, keeping you supported while you braced against the couch. He brushed the hair from your face, calm and unreadable as ever, but even you didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled against your skin. “You got this, baby girl. I know you can.”
“Don’t think you have much of a choice.” Your doctor, one of the few midwives in town, lifted her head. She sat at your feet, peeling off her gloves after your examination. “You’re fully dilated. This baby is coming right now.”
“There’s no time to get to the infirmary?” you questioned, voice rising in panic. The contractions had barely started an hour ago, and sure, you’d left it a little late before confessing that they were getting painful. Ellie had rushed out not fifteen minutes ago to call for your midwife’s help, and now…
Now, the baby was coming, and all you could think was that it wasn’t supposed to be like this. The pregnancy had been a shock to your system. You hadn’t even been sure that Joel would want to go through with it after everything he’d experienced before. But he’d held your hand through each ultrasound, felt your belly for the first kick, and even when you saw fear — dread, even — cross his features, you could easily reassure him that this time was different. This time, it was safe. You’d lived in Jackson for over a year now, and it was the security of the community that had made motherhood feel possible. 
The midwife shook her head. “I’m sorry. You need to start pushing on your next contraction.”
“Oh, god,” you whispered, teeth chattering as the weight of the situation hit you.
“Hey, look at me.” Joel tilted your chin gently. “It’s gonna be just fine, darlin’. You just breathe and push, okay? We’ll do the rest.” 
“Right, just breathe and push,” you muttered. “Of course, you forgot the part about shoving a small human out of my hoo-ha.” 
He smirked, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Oh, right. That little detail.”
“I kinda hate you right now.” Just as you said it, another contraction hit, and your head fell back as you moaned. 
“Push now if you feel like you should!” your midwife reminded. Then, to Ellie: “Go get some clean towels, hon. Lots of ‘em.”
In the doorway, Ellie looked grateful to be given a job and scampered off. 
You did as instructed, dipping your chin into your chest as you pushed, pushed, pushed. A scream ripped through you at the pain it brought, each moment worse than the last. 
“You’re doing so good, baby. So good. She’s gonna be here so soon,” Joel whispered, his grip around you the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. 
Dizziness consumed you as your contraction finally eased. “Is she okay?”
“I’m seeing the head.” The midwife beamed. “Just a few more pushes, okay?”
Somehow, you breathed, and you pushed, and you felt your way through the pain as your body broke and mended and then broke again. Joel kept his grip on your hand tight, reassuring, but you saw him bite his lip toward the end and knew that he might have been just as terrified as you. 
The final push finally came, and you sunk back as the newborn's cry rang out.
“She’s here. You did it,” Joel murmured, kissing your clammy temple. He laughed into your skin, the sound of joy and disbelief sending a shiver through you. You tried to lift your head, to see your daughter, but everything felt wrong. Heavy. It still hurt, and black spots dotted your vision. 
“Le’ me see her.” Your words were slurred, your voice far away.
The last thing you heard was Joel calling your name, his voice raw and broken — terrified. 
***
“What’s wrong with her?” he demanded. 
“She’s bleeding too heavily. I need to get her to the infirmary.”  The midwife shook her head, handing him the screaming newborn. His screaming newborn. It had taken months to quell the panic of becoming a father again — not that he had ever truly stopped. Sarah had lived in his heart all these years, and Ellie was his daughter, even if she hated him for what he did. 
He made the mistake of looking at you, and the sight of the blood made him sick. So much of it. There was so damn much of it. He’d seen a lot of people bleed out, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing this much. 
“Shit," he cursed.
He didn’t know when Ellie had returned, but she stood wan and she’ll shocked beside him now.
“Please, take her.” He shoved the baby into her arms before lowering back to his knees to grab your hand. “Don’t you dare do this to me, baby. Not now.” 
“Can you carry her to the infirmary?” the midwife asked desperately.
He didn’t think twice, slipping his arms under your limp body. 
“Joel! She’s gonna be alright, right?” Ellie stuttered, and he heard the panic in her voice, too, as she swayed the baby from side to side, swaddling her in blankets. You were the closest thing Ellie had to a mother. If either of them lost you…
He couldn’t even try to find an answer, as much as he wanted it to be yes.
He gritted his teeth, hauling you up on shaky legs. Thankfully, the infirmary was only a few blocks away, and nobody was there to slow him down so late at night. 
He couldn’t make sense of it. One minute, he’d been settling down for the night after a long patrol shift. The next, you were curled up in pain, claiming the baby was coming. 
“Stay with me,” he pleaded, fingers curling into your old sweater. His old sweater, if he was being particular, but you’d stolen it from him so long ago that it smelled completely of you now: soap and fresh air. Blood. 
He staggered into the infirmary with that smell still in his nostrils, dampness spreading across his hands, and he damn near passed out on the threshold. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave you, even when flashes of him holding Sarah this exact way raced through his mind. Even when a broken sob stuck in his throat, because he was holding on, and you weren’t, and she wasn’t, and why did he always have to be the one to watch the life seep from them? To end the night with nothing but their blood on his hands?
He set you down on the first bed he came to, drawing the alarmed attention of the nurses, who had a moment ago been ready to dose off on their night shift. In such a small community, they weren’t often needed after dark.
Behind him, the midwife called out orders, wheeling you away into the surgery theatre. He watched you disappear into a white-walled room, a tiny thing that never would have sufficed in the old world. 
In the old world, you probably wouldn’t have given birth in a living room. In the old world, he wouldn’t be stiff with a fear he couldn’t control, frozen with memories that refused to ever leave him.
He spun around and felt unsettled to see Ellie cradling the baby, mouth agape with the same cluelessness he felt. His baby. His. He had to be a father now, but he didn’t know how when you weren’t here with him. He felt like that thing he was always losing in his dreams was finally gone for good. Ripped from him one last time.
He couldn’t look at the baby’s cherubic face. Couldn’t even look at Ellie.
He couldn’t remember why he’d been so relaxed just yesterday to think of the little life you’d both been impatiently waiting to begin. Couldn’t remember how he’d found the strength to sing a lullaby to your bump, laughing when a foot kicked his palm as though telling him to shut the hell up. 
What the fuck was he supposed to do now? She was so tiny and pink and new, wrapped in bloody blankets, and he…
“Go give her to one of the nurses,” he whispered. 
“Joel—” Ellie made to protest, but he couldn’t hear it. Wouldn't.
“Ellie,” he snapped. “Go give her to one of the damn nurses. I can’t.”
“Well, you don’t have a fucking choice, because she’s yours now.” Ellie shoved her into his hands without warning. He tensed with the new weight, bile rising in his stomach. No. No. No. Everything he held, he broke. 
But then the baby let out a gurgle, her feet kicking his palm just like the night before when she was still safe in your belly, and he couldn’t keep from looking down at her. Couldn’t keep from seeing you in all her innocent features. Eyes, nose, even the fine tuft of hair on her head. 
“I can clean her down and check she’s doing okay,” a nurse offered, and suddenly, he was reluctant to let her go. 
And then he remembered you, the blood, your motionless body after so long spent screaming, Ellie’s hatred, Tess, Sarah, and he was glad for somebody else to take care of her. The further away that kid was, the better. He was a fucking curse, and she…
He scraped a hand over his face, pacing over to the surgery room. He didn’t dare march in, no matter how badly he wanted to. 
“She’s going to be okay,” Ellie said from behind him gently. “She’s strong, and I’m sure shit like this happens all the time.” 
“I told her we’d be okay,” Joel rasped out, face crumpling finally. “I told her that it would turn out alright, that we could be… That we could make something good here.”
“And you will,” Ellie said. 
He shook his head. “I might as well have killed her my damn self.” He looked down at his bloodied hands as though they weren’t his. They shook more than they ever had before. 
“Stop it! She’s going to make it. She has to!” Ellie’s yell took him aback, piercing in such a quiet, echoey space. She jabbed a finger into Joel’s shoulder. “And you have to hold it together. I know it’s fucking hard, alright, but you don’t get to lose it now! You can’t blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in our lives, Joel! That’s not how it works!”
He swallowed down his own self-loathing, head bowed. “I can’t do it without her,” he whispered. 
The rawness in his voice must have been visceral, because Ellie paused, her eyes filling with tears. 
And then she hugged him, tight enough that he thought maybe she was trying to keep him in one piece. He let out a ragged breath and held her. And then he did what she asked. He tried to hold it together. 
***
You woke to whispers and gurgles and wondered for a moment if you were dreaming. Your lids were heavy, body distant, and you couldn’t quite remember where you were or who was supposed to be with you. 
Until you prised your eyes open and found IVs plugged into your veins. 
“There she is,” a voice said softly. 
You blinked, searching for the source, and found it in a bleary version of Joel. He sat in a chair beside your bed, a tiny baby in his arms. His smile was shaky, distorted, and you didn’t know why. Not until he leaned forward and brushed your hair from your face with his free arm.
“Thought you’d left me there for a second.” 
“Is she okay?” Your throat was hoarse. 
He nodded. “Right as rain. It’s you we were worried about.” 
You frowned, trying to remember. One minute, you were pushing as though your life depended on it, and then the next, you were just… gone. 
“You had a heavy bleed. Needed a transfusion,” Joel explained finally. “But they reckon you’re gonna be okay, thank god.” 
“But she’s okay?” You stared at the baby nestled against his chest, not quite sure how she was here. When had this being growing inside of you become a real, tangible thing? How much of her life had you already missed?
Joel sighed impatiently. “Yes, baby. She’s perfect. Takes after her mom in that department.”
He moved to perch beside you so that you could get a closer look. He was right, of course. She was a little smaller than most newborns, but she was perfect. Pink apple cheeks, wide eyes, tiny fingernails. Looking at her felt like everything had finally fallen into place. You tickled her chin and her lips twitched with something content. Something right.
“How’s it feel, being a daddy again?” you asked gently, looking up at him. 
“Right now, it feels like hell. You can’t go scaring me like that.” He wouldn’t look at you, frown set firmly on his daughter. “Thought I was gonna have a heart attack."
“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been. After everything, you’d finally thought that danger, terror, was a thing of the past. You’d done a great job of ruining that, even if it wasn’t on purpose. Joel had lost too much before to deal with all this, and you had no idea how you’d cope in his shoes. 
He chuckled. “You’re sorry.” Shook his head. “I ain’t trying to make you apologise for almost dying, darlin’. You don’t gotta worry about me.”
“We said we could do this right,” you whispered. “I promised you it’d be different.” 
“Yeah, well… feels like things’ll never be different for me.” 
You snapped your head up. “What’s that mean?” 
“Nothin’.” He sighed, kissing your temple, and yet still, he wouldn’t meet your eye. “How about you get some rest? I’ll keep the little missus company.” 
“Joel.” You cupped his jaw, pleading now. Everything felt so wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Even though the proof was right in front of you, it was hard to believe your baby was happy and healthy after all the trauma you’d faced. “We’re not gonna start her life this way. Tell me what you mean.”
He placed the baby down in the crib beside your bed before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I keep having to plan a life where I’m alone again, and honestly, I don’t know how I’d do it if I had to. Not this time.”
“But you’re not alone. I’m right here.”
“But you weren’t. For a minute there, I thought…” His voice grew thick, and he shook his head. “Sarah’s gone. Ellie hates me. Why the hell did I think it’d be third time lucky? She’s not even a day old, and she almost lost her mom! And there was nothing I could do. There’s never anything I can do.”
Your heart ached for him. One day, you prayed he wouldn’t hold the responsibility of every single person he loved on his shoulders. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d been foolish to go into this thinking it could be better. The world would never be safe, not even here in Jackson, and the pain he must live with every day sure as hell wouldn’t ease now he had another daughter to raise. 
You felt hollow at the thought that maybe he’d leave. You wouldn’t blame him, not really. You were scared, too. But you’d only found the strength to do this because you were together, and you’d survived the odds so far. If that stopped feeling true… what then?
Devastation must have been written all over your face, because he pursed his lips. “Don’t listen to me, baby. I shouldn’t be sayin’ all this. You’re barely out of the woods.” 
“I don’t think we can keep doing this if you don’t let some of that guilt and blame go, Joel,” you admitted. “I think your daughter is gonna need a man who doesn’t hate himself for every single thing that’s wrong in the world. You’re right. There was nothing you could have done to stop this from happening. It was my body, and things like this happened even before the outbreak. I can’t imagine how scared you were, love, but fuck, you can’t keep making it your fault. It isn’t. It never was, especially not with Sarah. And this baby? She isn't Sarah." 
He winced at her name, as he often still did. Collapsing back in his chair, he took your hand. Slowly, his lower lip began to wobble as he finally met your gaze. “I love you too much to lose you. And her… How the hell am I gonna do this?” 
“I can’t answer that,” you said. “We knew it wouldn’t be easy.”
He snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.” Then, he bowed his head to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Gonna try to be better. I promise. I'll hold it together."
“You don’t need to be better, and you don't need to hold it together. You’re already a good man, and talking about all this is important - for both of us. And for her.” You squeezed his fingers tightly. “I love you so much.” You teared up as you looked at the baby dozing in her crib. “And god, I love her. Can you believe we made her?” 
He hummed. “What the hell are we gonna call her?” 
“And where the hell are we gonna put her?” you added, worrying at your lip. “We never even found a crib.”
He shrugged, teasing. “I’m sure we’ll find a corner somewhere.” He leaned forward, tracing circles along your arm. “We’ll make do. Between the four of us, we’ll find a way. I’ll cut the damn trees down and build us a place from scratch myself if I have to.”
You smiled, peace finally flooding your exhausted body. You saw Ellie standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed, and knew Joel was right. Your family was complete now. It would be a little broken at times, as all things were, but you’d do everything in your power to keep it whole. 
Even if it meant reminding Joel every damn day that he had to be gentle with himself.
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theformulaimagines · 2 months ago
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Look at that woman (breaking my heart) | Part 11
Summary: For one and a half years Lewis and y/n managed to keep their relationship a secret, until it blew up in their faces. Now, they're trying their hardest to pick up the pieces...
Warnings: age gap (reader is 27), major angst, fluff inbetween, my first time doing smau
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem Vettel!Reader
masterlist
f1 has made a post
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f1: We saw 10 gorgeous liveries at F1 75 LIVE... but which one was your fave? 😍
#F1 #Formula1 #F175LIVE
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user 1: VCARB >>>>>>>>>
user 2: obsessed with everyone booing the FIA 😩🙏🏻
user 3: y/n tbh 🫡
user 4: @/user 3 you’re actually so real for that
y/nvettel has made a post
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y/nvettel: tonight was so humbling! thank you @/f1 and everyone involved for trusting me to host and present such an incredible and exciting event! forever grateful!!!
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f1: stunning, spectacular give me 4000 of them
user 1: @/f1 😭😭😭😭
user 2: you looked amazing
user 3: the nepo baby of f1 gooood lord keep her off my screens
sebastianvettel: proud is an understatement ❤️
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ham44_supporter: my princess diana
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user 1: now take a big guess WHO mentioned him
user 2: @/user 1 „i know im technically not allowed to be biased tonight but well…you know the rumors“ GAGGED
user 3: @/user 2 the way you could HEAR people GASP
user 3: god he’s stunning
A few weeks later.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Formula 1 testing week. The cars will be back on track in a few moments."; David Croft declares, looking over at Martin Brundle:" There is so much to look forward to and I am so thankful that Nico Rosberg is going to join us as well in a couple of minutes.“
Martin nods at the screen:“ And looks like Hamilton has just got into his car. I cannot lie to you, I am so excited to finally be able to look over some official data. After all those rumors of potential leaks were flooding the internet.“
„Red suits him amazingly.“, his colleague adds, making him laugh. „Looks like someone else is also amazed by him in-.“
„Good morning, guys!“, a voice cuts him off:“ Can you see me?“ The two men both turn their heads to the screen, catching sight of a grinning Nico. „Yes, hi!“, David says:“ It‘s so good to see you! How are you?“
„I‘m doing good.“, The blonde answers:“ But I fear, I interrupted you, Martin.“ He chuckles. „No, you didn't. I just wanted to point out that Y/N Vettel is in Hamilton's garage this morning as well.“ The image on the screen changes to the outside of Hamilton's garage, where Y/N is standing next to a couple of engineers. She’s wearing the signature red Ferrari jacket, while looking around the site.
„The last few months must’ve been tough.“
„Well, Nico. You know both personally. What’s your opinion?“
The blonde man sighs:“ Well, it’s important to remember that this isn’t really any of our business. Plus Y/N has a great relationship with her brother, and his opinion means everything to her. We all know how highly he speaks about him, so I believe if anything he’s happy she’s with a guy like Lewis. If they‘re both happy, I‘m happy. Everyone else should think the same about them.“
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Text
Having a wretched day and decided to take it out on Ghost. I lost steam towards the end for which I am sorry. Smut coming next week as a consolation prize.
Olfactory memory? Yes? Yes.
Cw: PTSD, PTSD induced domestic violence, angst not quite comfort but we're trending positive
Ex-military Ghost with civilian reader.
You are sunshine. Heroin. The drug that's made him feel like he's swimming, not drowning, for the first time in decades.
There are things he can't tell you, but there are also things he won't. He may have, at one point of time. He had readied himself for it, waiting for a vulnerable moment, but he likes being just Simon to you.
Ghost is a relic of war, a hero buried in a box in his crawlspace.
It feels too late now.
He doesn't want to see the horror in your eyes, when he tells you about Roba. Things you should probably know, things that would help inform your interactions.
He's such a piece of dirt.
You deserve better, but for some fucking reason you seem to want him, and he has every intention of doing his best to be a good partner for you.
He helps around the house. He takes turns cooking.
He doesn't yell or snipe, even when you drive him crazy, leaving your dirty clothes on the bathroom floor.
He does his best to be there for you, and hopes that it's enough.
And it is. Before Scotland.
Look.
Look.
You've seen the Princess Bride. You know men in masks are not to be trusted.
You also know the man on your hands is more Wesley and less Dread Pirate Roberts, even if he looks like the brute squad.
You promised yourself, somewhat naïvely, that you wouldn't be a beacon for anyone ever again - you weren't strong enough to hold two heads above water, not forever, but damned if Simon doesn't make you want to try.
He'd crept under your skin with his dessicating wit and genuine interest in you, and maybe your daddy issues were showing, but there's a level of reliability in Simon you never thought you'd see in a man.
You found yourself going to drastic measures - you're embarrassed to say you haven't put in that much work for a guy since high school, but you like Simon.
A lot.
You haven't dealt with military personally, but you know there can be scars. Wounds that are harder to talk about than more common place traumas.
Simon still talks with his old squad, has an annual Guy Fawkes day cookout with them. Means he has people who know, who can understand without having to be told, what might go on in his head on darker days.
You are not to be left out, however. You have the whole internet at your disposal, and you research military traumas and coping strategies until you feel like you're preparing for your first puppy:
How to domesticate your vet.
God, Simon would be so irked if he knew.
You've prepared for just about anything, have coached yourself to respond calmly and be aware of potential triggers.
He'd almost laughed the first time you asked him if he wanted to leave before the fireworks started, but it wasn't mean - you'd caught him by surprise.
As he eases into civilian life, he starts taking you up on it - he didn't realize how tense he was, suddenly on, not until he starts healing.
Some of that is time. Some you, some the therapy.
He stops wearing a mask when he goes out, a security blanket he doesn't need anymore, although it's less conspicious in post-pandemic times.
Neither of you realized the mask was an unintentional coping mechanism for other things, not just a way of hiding his face in a world where he wasn't supposed to exist.
There were no winners in the 141 marriage pool. Not when MacTavish is the first to ring someone up.
You've resolved to keep commentary to yourself on the subject - what you and Simon have is good, and Johnny's mum swayed the odds in his favor.
The grounds they rent out are massive - understandable, since it's a clan wedding, but you really hadn't expected to have a whole croft to yourself.
Johnny's doing, to give you both a quiet place to retreat to, away from the periceremonial chaos.
Simon waits patiently for you to oogle.
The thatched roof building is charming, rose bushes coralled into neat rows against the foundation. You can imagine hens picking on the lawn and laundry hanging from the line.
The door sticks, takes a solid shove to open, and you find that while the outside is postcard-perfect, someone has put a lot of effort into modernizing the internals. What was once one room has been sectioned off into a cozy one bed, one bath.
A queen sized bed fills most the living space, with a pair of matched floral arm chairs at the foot.
It smells a bit...off, but you chalk it up to the exposed cobble. Much like brick, it isn't always easy to seal properly - and Scotland is not known for its arid clime.
You don't see it, but that's when it starts.
Simon twitches. His skin itches and crawls in a way he's not used to.
He figures he's just antsy from the trip.
He unpacks while you shower, stalks the perimeter, feeling restless. It clears while he's outside, when you head over for happy hour, and he forgets anything was wrong.
When you come back, buzzed and content from your merry-making, it's easy for you to fall asleep. You knock out like a light, one foot hooked around Simon's.
You can tune it out, adjust to the smell, but Simon can't.
He can't block it out. Doesn't even know what it is.
He tosses and turns for what feels like eternity, breaking out in sweat even though the night is cool.
He tries to scroll on his phone, use the internet to distract him, but the service is shit and the light hurts his eyes.
The itch is back, and he needs to get out. He needs to get out now, but the door is stuck and suddenly he's buried again, wet earth clinging to his nose, choking him on every inhale and he's clawing at the door like an animal locked in a cage.
You aren't that light a sleeper, and he doesn't respond when you call out to him. Your only excuse for the automatic touch is you've been lulled to false security - you've hardly needed any of the tactics you'd read about, and it's late and you were tired.
It's too much. You're a threat.
You realize it a second too late, when Simon whips around and grabs you by the front of your sleepshirt - his shirt - and slams the first two knuckles of his left hand into your solar plexus.
You drop like a rock.
The immediate, excrutiating regret of your epiphany flees as you curl in on yourself, gasping for breath like a fish on dry land. Tears well up at the corner of your eyes, shock and pain and an utter lack of air keeping you from shedding them.
You hear more than you see the door finally spring open. Ghost is out and gone before you can pull yourself together.
Even when your breath comes easier, you stay on the floor so you can kick yourself while you're down.
Page number one. Bullet number one. You'd successfully broken the primary advice of every single page you'd saved on loving someone with PTSD. Too complacent.
You're an idiot.
He stopped being Ghost and started being Simon again somewhere around the three mile mark. It was more than he was used to running, especially barefoot and in his boxers, but the heath was soft and had spared his feet too much damage.
The pain had helped bring him to his senses.
It hurt more to think that he'd hurt you, something he'd sworn he'd never do, not after watching how his mother suffered.
It takes another two miles to come to terms with what had happened, this time at a slow walk. He's not sure if this is something he can fix, but either way he needs a plan.
Needs to figure things out, tonight. Set the mold for his future.
He has to tell you and risk maybe losing you, that you'll decide it's too much for you, or not tell you and definitely lose you.
But between you and the shrink, he's been brainwashed to believe he deserves a shot at happiness.
You're sitting on the step to the croft, head in hands, when he comes back around dawn.
He can tell you've been crying, and something in his heart breaks. He'd made his decision hours ago, but he wanted you to give you time. Space to leave, to run to the safety of the main house if that's what you needed.
You get up without a word and open the door for him. You give him a wide berth, careful to avoid physical contact, but once inside you stall out. Standing in the middle of the room, looking lost and small and wondering just how much of what you had is broken now.
The silence that spans the next few minutes is the most stressful silence of his entire life. He guides you to a chair, tucks in a blanket around you like he would have even if he hadn't tried to break your ribs with his fist three hours ago.
Makes two cups of tea, and then retreats to the other side of the small space and sinks to the floor, leaving room for the history that's about to fill it.
"I need to tell you a story."
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feefivefoe · 7 months ago
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Something I think about when it comes to the batfam is what if they remember reader after a long long time? I’m talking 10+ years after leaving the family. Like what would that be like? Reader wouldn’t be a young adult but someone who’s established themselves in a career and most likely moved out of Gotham, got themselves a somewhat better apartment or maybe a small house, maybe gone through therapy and has decided that they are indifferent about the families existence, to the point that reader forgets about them sometimes. Except Jason reader would probably light a candle every birthday and holiday for him
I feel like the angst potential would be like an aged wine. Bruce Wayne forgot about his first born child their entire life, plus 10 years. Maybe the only reason they remember is a Gotham exclusive on the family, a “where are they now?” type story and half the family (Steph, Cas, Damian, Duke) discover reader existed and the other half is reminded of the forgot part of their family. Oh the angst for Jason! His favorite sibling, his friend from before his death, how could he forget them?? How could Bruce forget them??? And oh god it’s been such a long time where are they?? The story said that they couldn’t find a record in Gotham anymore, are they dead? He let them be forgotten, something he couldn’t stand happening to him, and now here he is, perpetuating it. The fight this would cause!! I feel like the fam would turn on Bruce demanding answers that he doesn’t have. Jason goes to readers room and finds nothing. Maybe reader wanted to cover their tracks? Maybe they didn’t want any trace of them in a manor that never cared for them in the first place? Who knows, all the fam knows is that this building feels so much colder now with this revelation.
Meanwhile reader is getting dinner with friends and work colleagues, having a good and fulfilling life, one outside Gotham, outside of the depressing influence of the Wayne’s, rogues, and owls of Gotham (sorry for making this so long!! Hope you’re having a great day!! Love your work!)
No bc how dare you come into my askbox and drop the most beautiful ask I've seen while I'm sick and brain fogged /affectionate
No hate to anybody else who has sent asks, ily all, but this one HIT MY BRAIN SPASMS AKDMELAK-
BECAUSE YOU'RE SO RIGHT???
The longer it goes on, the worse the inevitable realization is for EVERYONE. Including reader. Because while there's no record of them legally, that's just because they're doing too poorly to have records.
Once you leave Gotham and start settling, you have legal documentation that you just need, you know, for life. Your ssn, birth certificate, etc. Documents that Bruce thought he had somewhere, only to find out you had requested them from Alfred when you left home.
Alfred, being the enabler he is and always hoping you'd reconnect with them one day, just gave you legal copies. Or illegal copies that are good enough to pass, idk how that stuff works.
Point is, they can find you.
BUT.
That's after they get past the emotional turmoil that the discovery puts them through. Imagine if one of them is watching the special for laughs, members of the family snickering at how fake and put together they all are on camera, elbowing each other at how prim and proper some of them are.
Then, near the ending, it cuts to a city far away from theirs. Not Bludhaven, which confuses them. The rest of them stayed, at least relatively close. So where-?
"Y/N L/N, formerly known as Y/N Wayne, has not been seen in the public eye for over a decade. While our reporters were unable to make contact, some still can't help but wonder on where this mysterious member of the beloved family-"
*Snap*
That's Jason, snapping the remote in half while staring at the screen.
Where...when...?
Half of them are confused. Three of them are starting to get a dawning realization.
Jason is having probably the biggest traumatic breakdown he's had since coming to terms with his death and resurrection.
Which town was that? Was that their actual home? Is that just stock footage? Did the reporter lie, did they find you? No, they would have shown that. Fucking vultures wouldn't keep the drama to themselves if they had the chance.
Those are thoughts that don't hit until later, honestly. He's too fucking furious to think coherently for a while.
He wants to scream at Bruce, and hit him, and Dick, and Tim, and fuck it, Alfred too a little. (Unfortunately, they probably have lost Alfred by now. The man was already old.)
He wants to both trash and treasure what's left of your room, small enough to make him feel cramped. It's the size of his old apartment bedroom! Fucking moneybags couldn't give his second ever child a better room than this???
There's no diary left behind, or anything that would bring any sense of closure. Actually, the only thing of note is a scattering of ancient newspaper articles badly taped up on the wall, mostly peeling or on the floor by now.
"BATMAN BESTS POLICE ONCE MORE- RIDDLER IN CUSTODY"
"WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT THE BOY WONDER"
"NO MORE JOKES - CLOWN IN CUSTODY"
"BATMAN'S NEWEST SIDEKICK? ROBIN REPLACED!"
"A NEW HERO? NIGHTWING DEBUTS!"
Them. It's articles about all of them. Their hero exploits, at least. None of them past his...expiration date. It looks like his death is what made you stop idolizing your family so much. Honestly, the paper is old enough to make it hard to read anything but the headlines.
There are a few sticky notes amidst the papers. Clumsy, childlike handwriting.
03/16/XXXX
Richard and Mister Wayne saved people from a bank! Bad guys almost blew em up. That's why they had to miss the concert!
07/30/XXXX
Jason couldn't have dinner because the Joker broke out, and they had to stop him again. Stay in jail! My brother is hungry!!!! >:(
XX/XX/XXXX
I hoped Richard was in town because of my birthday...I guess it was superhero stuff. But Jay remembers! Next year?
XX/XX/XXXX
Not next year :( I made a cake with Alfred instead. Gave some to Jay after he patrolled. Not as good as Alfred's yet, but he still ate it!
Notes you wrote to yourself. To hang up, to show you that even if they aren't there for you, your 'family' is full of good people. That they're doing important stuff, and that's why they can't be there for you.
As a child, you hung up a wall to show yourself why you weren't important. Why you didn't matter.
And Jason breaks.
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lucabyte · 11 months ago
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Finally: The NoHats AU doodles. Plus some sprite edits.
Usually I'd let things speak for themselves and keep my chattering in the tags, but I'll ramble about my context thoughts...
So. First of all here's a link (x) to the Nohats Origin Post for those coming in and going ????.
Anyway. These doodles are not in any obvious chronological order, though Loop going from pilfered bandolier (my headcanon for how Siffrin has all those pockets) -> custom outfit made by Isabeau, is supposed to generally denote 'just after the ending' -> 'a few months down the line'.
And speaking of, Design & Characterisation notes:
Overall: NoHats is suppooooosed to have the range to not just be ULTIMATE MISERY ALL THE TIME (but if you're a major whump/angst fan. go fucking nuts.) so these are supposed to be. The steps toward overcoming and living with grief but. The Misery Is Kind Of The Punchiest Part.... Oops....
Mirabelle: Taking the lead, continuing to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. In the game proper she's already shown to, while yes, be emotionally fragile at times, be prone to trying to hold the team together. I feel she'd do the same here. It also would help that she'd presumably be medicated again? But I can't imagine her chosen-one anxieities would be super ailed by the death of her friend. I wanted to try and give her more differences? She follows the change belief after all and is thus liable to switch up her style in general... But I didn't have a strong vision for this, so. The ball is in anyone's court. Her design changes here are keeping one of Sif's safety pins a la qpr bonding earring, and has the bell pendant at Loop's (oddly pushy) suggestion.
Isabeau: Taking it. Badly. Depression mullet and beard in tow. However, you best believe he is trying real badly to hide it. Loop very much does not reveal their identity to him because What The Fuck Would That Even Do. That's Scary. but they do try to comfort him while mentally regarding him "off limits". Backs themselves into some very unfortunate corners by alluding to their unfulfilled relationship with their Fighter as a point of common ground. I don't imagine this would go super great when recontextualised later after Loop is inevitably found out. Just in general oh good god what the fuck. this is like a radioactive pit of survivor's guilt.
Bonnie: Taking it probably The Worst. This is a child. Who was already feeling guilt. This is who everyone else is trying to keep it together for. Mirabelle and Isabeau would likely be putting up far less of a front without Bonnie around. They take the hat and take on Pocket Duty. They also have slightly more sif-y hairstyle but... Don't worry about it. They'd have Nille to fall back on once she's picked back up, and Loop almost certainly attempts to redouble efforts on making them feel better but seeing as how closed-off Bonnie can already be, it'd likely be difficult. However they would probably take Loop's identity reveal best...?
Odile: Odile's design.... ! Does not seem to have changed? How odd! Well. I'm sure she's dealing with things in a regular and non-cloistered manner. I already think that a regular Postcanon Activity for Odile could be her finding out about the potential for sif/loop to translate books and thus Knowledge in their native tongue assuming that ability sticks around postgame. Something something culture can never truly be wiped out etc etc. But putting it in this context. Makes it more desperate, more of a deflection for something else.
Loop: Helpful Loop. Well. They win! I feel like the entirety of ISAT being about Siffrin's mental state means I don't need to spill much ink here? You get it I think. I can't outdo the source material man. Anyway I imagine Loop is given clothes by Isabeau before they know who they are, but after they've become genuine friends. The outfit is in genuineness, on both sides from Loop and Isa, in having the cloak be a nod in respect to Siffrin, since Loop's "shared culture" would have to come up vis a vis cultural funerary traditions. Hard to avoid divulging that one...
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ilylovelyz · 9 months ago
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⍣ ೋ distance
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˚ · . giyuu tomioka x afab!reader
: ̗̀➛ cheating, semi-public sex, getting caught, breeding, impregnation, unprotected sex, squirting, biting, forbidden love, arranged marriage, sex in a church, jealous!giyuu, this is more angst than smut
make sure to keep my distance say i love you when you're not listening and how long 'til we call this love?
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the melodic chimes of a church bell rings loudly, signifying the important event taking place in the spring evening.
families are gathered, sitting down, awaiting for the bride to be to walk down the awhile. they are joyous, so excited to unite both families, especially because allowing their son to marry their own daughter meant a trade of advantages in the future.
your father waits outside the doors that separate you and your groom, awaiting for his youngest daughter to wrap her arm around his, to walk her down the aisle and give her away.
only, he stands alone.
your father awaits anxiously, occasionally glancing at his pocket watch, waiting for your arrival. minutes go by, and you don't show up. it has become clear that you are late, lightly irritating your groom.
an hour passes, and the guests begin looking for you around the church. they know you're there, after all, they did see you arrive. they all look around, wondering where the bride to be is.
but do they really want to know?
hypothetically, what if they see the dolled up bride to be getting fucked mercilessly in her pretty little expensive silk kimono by her ex-boyfriend? that will surely bring shame upon the entire family, ruin any ties they had to any potential wealth that the bride was supposed to be marrying into.
hypothetically.
it will remain a hypothetical scenario as long as you and giyuu aren't caught in such a scandalous position. the position? oh well, giyuu just seems to have your expensive silk kimono rolled up to expose the flesh of your ass, your chest flush with the harsh walls of the bathroom church as he rams his cock in and out of your poor pussy.
giyuu curses under his breath, his hand covering your mouth to prevent your shamefull moans being heard by any potential passerbys.
this is so taboo. this shouldn't even be happening, you should be walking up that aisle, marrying the man everyone thinks you should be marrying. but you aren't. instead you're getting your pussy fucked like some cheap prostitute in a church bathroom by your ex-boyfriend, whom you begged to even attend the wedding in the first place.
maybe that's why you begged him so much to come to your wedding. to fuck you so good that it has you finally growing a spine and rejecting tradition, rejecting your family from basically giving you away just for more wealth like some greedy pigs.
this is so uncharacteristic of giyuu to do in the first place. he likes to think of himself to have morals, to know better than to fuck a soon-to-be-bride. a bride who is already promised to someone else.
and yet, he still came to the wedding. he doesn't even know why. maybe for closure. maybe to be able to see you in a beautiful white silk kimono, hair braided up into a bun, just how he likes it. to see you walk down that aisle to your groom. or maybe it was because he wanted to be able to envision himself as the groom instead.
this is not right. but your family giving you away for their own lavish wants isn't right either. you were giyuu's in the first place, a happy and dedicated couple for nearly 5 years before your father decided giyuu was too low for you and shipped you off to marry another.
maybe this is right, maybe this is god's redirection to let you both know that the two of you are meant for each other.
giyuu bites onto the back of your nape, his free hand feeling up your breast underneath the layers of your kimono. it's hot. it's so hot. and yet, he can't stop—no, he won't stop.
his cock tip hits against your cervix, his nose inhaling your sweet scent. he's fucking you like an animal. like it's the last time he has with you. his touches are almost painful, his strong hands gripping wherever he can. giyuu sinks his teeth onto wherever he can, not caring if your soon-to-be husband sees them when the two of you have to consumate your marriage later tonight.
giyuu feels his jaw tightly clench at the thought, his hands forming a tight grip onto your hips, so tight it leaves red marks when he releases. consumating the marriage.
giyuu is clealry upset. pissed off even. he spent so much time with you, put in so much effort to even open himself up to you like you desperately wanted, and yet you're stolen away so easily, it's almost insulting.
oh. you feel so good around him. you've taken his sacred virginity a long time ago, and yet you still feel like a vice grip around his cock, no matter how many times he fucks you.
the two of you are startled when you hear a knock at the bathroom door. time is over.
but you both just cant stop. giyuu doesn't stop his hips from rutting into yours, and neither do you stop yourself from moaning like a whore.
this is shameful. this is taboo—and yet, giyuu finds himself on the brink of his orgasm.
"y/n," he calls out, too pussydrunk to care if the people on the other side of the door hear. "y/n, i-i'm about to–" he grunts out, leaning his head into the crook of your neck. you moan happily at his words, too fucked to give a damn about the consequences.
"give me yourrr cum giyuu" you slur out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you ride out your nth orgasm. giyuu grunts lowly in response, laying a kiss down onto the back of your neck before he's wrapping a hand around your neck and forcing his hips all the way up towards your own until he fills his cock tip pushing against your cervix so tightly it has you screaming with pleasure, squirting on his cock so deliciously.
"f-fuhck!" he yells out before he shoots his fat load into your convulsing cunt, his seed filling up your womb to the brim. you squeal happily at the feeling of your womb being filled by the right person, by your one true love.
the two of you are too drunk on sex to even notice that your groom has already unlocked the bathroom door anyways.
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please repost with tags and leave a like.
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sugrhigh · 9 months ago
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BOY NEXT DOOR 8 - ( c.s )
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part seven
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- ANGST! it’s just fluff and angst get ready baby
a/n: hellllooooooooo sorry everything takes me fucking forever to write but i am once again back hehe i truly hope you enjoy
despite what many people might think, chris has never been on a proper date in his life. and it’s silly to admit, considering he’s hung out with women in so so many different contexts, but it’s never been formal like that.
he swears he’s never even said the word out loud, as if he was scared of getting infected with real feelings, scared of things getting too serious. so he vowed there would be no flowers, no fancy dinners, no romance. just pure physical connections.
and it stayed that way for so long that he figured it would never change. he’d be a bachelor forever, hopping from girl to girl, showing them no more vulnerability than a simple smile.
then he met you, got to know you, and that mindset disappeared. the fear of being blindsided is still there, nestled somewhere deep in the trenches of his heart.
but to him, you’re worth the potential heartbreak.
so when he shows up at your doorstep with a bouquet of tulips saturday afternoon, it’s a bit of a surprise for the both of you, though not an unwelcome one.
“there’s my pretty girl.” chris smiles, trying desperately to play off his nerves.
my pretty girl. the words ring through your head like a church bell, and even though it’s embarrassing, you’re unable to stop beaming at him.
“what are you doing here?” you ask curiously as he hands the flowers over.
he swallows thickly, shoving his now-freed hands in his pockets. “i wanted to ask you out. on, like, a real date.”
for a moment you think you’ve heard him wrong, or that this must be some kind of prank. in what world would chris sturniolo, infamous playboy, be throwing in the towel and dating? let alone dating you?
but his face remains eerily serious. you can tell he’s a little anxious by the way he’s shuffling his feet, which is endearing. you’re not sure he’s ever done this before, and yet it's the sweetest gesture.
you’re pleasantly shocked by the happiness that’s washing over your body, and as much as you don’t want to give into it, it’s almost impossible not to.
“i think i can definitely squeeze that into my calendar.” you grin.
he visibly relaxes, chuckling slightly at your response as he shakes his head. “next time i’ll schedule it with your secretary.”
the fact that he said next time almost makes you freeze, but you play it off without skipping a beat. your heart is doing backflips, so you clutch the flowers and try to contain it.
“you know the drill, i’m a busy woman.” you shrug playfully.
“be ready by seven?” it’s a question more than a request, because he’s not fully confident that you actually are free.
“yeah,” you nod, stepping closer to give him a kiss of reassurance, “i’ll see you then.”
even feeling your lips on his for a second drives chris absolutely crazy. but there’s plenty of time for that later. right now he’s the perfect gentleman, the guy you deserve.
“oh my god, is it seven already?” ramona checks her watch from the couch, completely in a daze.
she's been religiously rewatching her favorite show, swearing that it inspires her to work on the project she’s been procrastinating. you know she’s too invested for that to be true, but you can’t blame her.
“it’s time indeed.” you nod, slipping your feet into your knee highs.
“oh my gosh, you look so good!” she gushes, popping up from her spot to come wrap you in a hug.
mona barely gives you time to fully zip up your shoes, and you both almost go toppling. you can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, straightening up so you can hold her back.
“jesus, you could’ve given me one more second.” you tease as you pull away.
“sorry, cuteness aggression. i think i’m just too excited for you.” she apologizes, even though she knows you’re not actually angry.
“i’m happy you approve.”
it’s the truth; having both of your roommates’ support means the world to you. especially since you’re falling for him, which is terrifying on its own.
you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this serious about a guy, but it feels so good.
ramona smiles right as the doorbell rings, and you hear cassidy come bounding down the stairs. she looks bewildered, definitely startled awake from her nap, and you can’t help but laugh.
“he’s here! and damn, you look sexy bitch.” she says, joining the two of you by the living room.
you smile as she pushes you forward slightly, shaking your head. “you guys are embarrassing me.”
“payback for the millions of times you’ve done it to us.” cass snaps back playfully.
ramona rolls her eyes, waving you to continue to the door as she tugs her counterpart into the kitchen. “no fighting, go have fun! we love you!”
you let out a breath, squaring your shoulders and raising your chin as you step toward the door. you’re more nervous than you expected to be, but when you pull open the door it’s like you immediately relax.
seeing chris dressed up in a quarter zip and those ripped jeans you adore on him makes your heart swell. the easy-going expression on his face calms your anxiety almost instantly.
you see his own eyes travel down to your exposed legs, covered only by your favorite little black skirt. your off-the-shoulder long sleeve is hidden slightly by your leather jacket, bold makeup accentuating your features.
he feels like he’s suffocating, seeing you look this good knowing it’s all for him. that you’re almost his. he wants to taste you, to ruin your lipgloss just to feel you on his mouth.
“you look…unreal.” he breathes, offering you his hand as you step out to join him on the front step.
“you look pretty great too.” you admit sheepishly, and he gives you a gentle kiss because he can’t help it.
you chuckle under your breath as he pulls away, wiping the gloss from his mouth with your thumb gently. chris just smiles, kissing the pad of your finger briefly before tangling his hand in yours.
“come on, we can’t be late to our first official dinner reservation.” chris urges as he leads you to his car.
he’s embarrassingly giddy as he holds the passenger door open, and you hop inside happily. it’s become one of your favorite spots, riding around next to him with his hand on your thigh.
tonight is no different. his thumb brushes against your skin reassuringly as you hum under your breath, watching chris drive out of the corner of your eye.
he’s just so handsome, especially right now. you’ve always known that, but it’s different. you care about him so much that just looking at his face kind of makes your day, as horrifyingly honest as that is.
you can’t help but smile to yourself, and he pulls into the parking lot of a fancy little restaurant a few moments later.
“i’ve always wanted to try this place, you know. i just never had the right occasion.” you admit as chris helps you back out of the car.
he laughs slightly, hand snaking its way to your waist after he closes the door behind you. “i haven’t either, but you’re the only worthy occasion i can imagine.”
you feel your cheeks heat up slightly. “stop flattering me, i know you just want to get lucky after we’re done.”
“i want a lot more than that, sweetheart.” chris replies truthfully, kind of enjoying letting his mouth run. he’s held his feelings in so much lately that it’s nice to just be honest.
meanwhile you’re desperately trying not to read into his words too much, but at this point it’s hard not to. it seems like he truly does like you, and for the first time in your life you might actually see a future with someone.
once you’re inside, the hostess guides you to a nice booth in the corner, smiling sweetly at chris as she leaves. it doesn’t matter; he’s got his hand in yours, and he’s not looking at anyone besides you as you sit down.
“quit staring at me like that.” you tease, even though you’re only half-joking.
chris tilts his head to the side, smirking at you like he can read your mind. “why, does it make you nervous?”
“no.” you lie, and he just shakes his head like he doesn’t believe you.
your waiter saves you a moment later and you order your drinks; a beer for him and a margarita for you. by the time they’re on the table, you and chris are already deep in your usual random conversation.
it’s impossible to stop looking into his eyes as you chat, your foot bumping against his as you both lean forward towards each other. his fingers dance across the top of your hand, simply because he’s unable to go more than a minute without physical contact, especially when you look so gorgeous.
you’re halfway through the actual meal when you’re finally forced to excuse yourself and use the bathroom, even though you don’t want to leave for even a minute.
“don’t miss me too much.” you joke, sliding out of your side of the booth to give him a quick kiss.
“you know i will.” he smiles as you pull away, watching you head toward the restroom with hearts in his eyes.
looking at yourself in the mirror once you’re done only confirms what you already knew; you’re having the best first date ever. your reflection smiles at you as you wash your hands, so wrapped up in your own head that you barely notice the girl who comes up beside you until she clears her throat.
startled, you glance her direction, only to find that she’s already staring right at you. your stomach bottoms out as your body fills with dread for a reason you’re not yet sure of.
“uh…can i help you?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.
she flips her long brown hair over her shoulder, cat-like eyes narrowing just a bit. “so, you’re chris’s little plaything, huh?”
you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simply won’t go away. “that depends on who’s asking.”
the girl scoffs, turning away from you just a bit so that she can reapply her lipstick in the mirror. “the girl who fucked him three weeks ago when you walked out, that’s who’s asking.”
the acidic taste of bile fills your mouth, and you suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up. your ears ring and the world shrinks, like there’s no air left to breathe.
how the fuck does she even know that? did he talk to her about you? your mind is spiraling out of control, thinking about every single aspect of that fateful morning.
you see her smile sharply at your reaction, satisfied that she’s caught you off guard. it’s impossible to compose yourself, though, because everything is coming crashing down.
“c’mon babe, you thought he really liked you? he didn’t even wait twenty-four hours to get on top of me.”
“he wouldn’t.” you whisper, even though you know that’s not the truth.
this time she actually barks out a laugh, tossing her tube of lipstick back in her bag before turning to face you once more. it doesn’t help that she’s undeniably gorgeous, exactly his type.
“he would, and he did. but if you don’t believe me, just ask him. mention the name daniela and you’ll see for yourself.” she says, fixing her hair one more time before stepping around you to get to the door.
you hear it slam behind her, still rooted in the same place, unable to move. you don’t want to believe it, but she was speaking with such certainty that you’re already convinced.
tears sting your eyes like salt in the wound. your face is no longer filled with the cheerfulness it possessed a few moments ago; now you just look crestfallen. but you won’t give in to your emotions yet, not without confirmation.
you don’t want to confront chris, but you know you have to. so you send your roommates an SOS text to ensure you have a ride home, and then you steel yourself to go back.
you have no idea where daniela went, but it doesn’t matter because you don’t look anywhere but straight ahead as you walk. your whole body is tingling, entirely on the verge of breaking down as you find your way to the table.
not yet, not yet, not yet.
the second his face lights up at your return, you want to crumble. he looks so sweet, the boy you thought had finally changed for you. but then he notes your tight expression, and a frown replaces the grin.
you don’t sit down. you just blink at him for a second, trying to force the words out. you’re silent until he opens his mouth to speak, which finally empowers you enough to cut him off.
“tell me about daniela.”
he straightens uncomfortably at the mention of her name, which already gives you your answer. your heart twists, so much so that it physically hurts inside your chest.
“what?” chris responds, staring at you dumbly.
“did you or did you not sleep with a girl named daniela a day after me?” you ask as calmly as possible, ignoring the fact that your fingernails are digging into the skin of your palm.
his face somehow contorts to look even more grim, and you shake your head slowly. a smile of disbelief makes its way across your lips, which you suppose is better than sobbing.
“yeah, i’m done here.” you snap, yanking your jacket and purse up before turning on your heel.
“please—” his hand circles your wrist and you yank it away without a second thought, not caring if anyone sees.
you just keep walking. everything is completely numb at this point. it doesn’t even feel like you’re in your own body, you’re just moving. the fresh air hits you as you step outside and you inhale the cold, letting it shock you awake a bit.
you unravel your jacket from your arms and put it on as you book it through the parking lot, only to realize that you’re shaking.
the double doors burst open behind you, and you hear him shouting your name, but you still don’t stop. his heavy footsteps increase in pace, and you make it to the sidewalk just outside the restaurant when he finally catches up.
“please, just give me the chance to explain.” chris begs, once again reaching for your hand to try and slow you down.
you stop, only to shove him away from you with a surprising burst of power. he let’s go, but he’s still looking at you desperately as if it’s not black and white.
“there’s nothing to explain. in fact, this is exactly why i fucking hated you so much to begin with, why i was so hesitant to let myself believe that you could actually feel something for anyone besides yourself. you made me look like an idiot, thinking that you’d changed at all.” you lash out, unable to control the rage spilling out of your mouth.
he winces, visibly hurt from your words, but he powers through anyways. “i immediately knew i made a huge mistake, and even though i did it thinking it would make me feel better, it made everything worse. when you left that morning i thought it was over for me, and it hurt in a way that i’ve never felt before because i really fucking care about you.”
you snort, crossing your arms over you chest defensively. “yeah, well, you’re doing a fabulous job at showing it. i mean seriously, chris, do you know how fucking horrible that was? to find out from the girl herself because you couldn’t be bothered to at least be honest? and now you expect me to believe anything you say when in reality your words mean shit.”
chris feels you slipping from his fingers, so quickly that he doesn’t know how to stop it, or how to get you to trust what he’s saying. it’s a type of distress that he’s never been through before, because he’s never gotten attached.
“i know i fucked up, and i know i should’ve never even responded to her in the first place. i don’t have the right to ask you to trust me, but i need you to know that it didn’t mean anything to me.” he pleads, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice now.
you feel your eyes burning again as you meet his gaze, and you’re not sure if it’s hurt or frustration making you cry.
“it means something to me. i put my faith in you enough to go all the way, to let my guard down this past month and admit to myself that i do have feelings for you. and now i look just as stupid as everyone told me i would, even though i really did trust you so much. i thought things were different, that you wouldn’t dare do that to me.” you’re choking on your tears as you speak, and all he wants to do is reach out and wipe them away but he can’t.
you take a step back, almost instinctively. “but you did, and now it’s over.”
chris feels his whole world stop for a second. he takes in every inch of your heartbroken face; eyes wide and red, tears streaking down your cheeks as you hold yourself in your own arms.
he hates himself so much, more than he ever has in his life, for destroying things with the only person that matters. especially on a night that was supposed to be so special.
“i’m begging you not to do this. i’m so, so sorry that i ruined your confidence in me, but it’s only ever been you. you live in my thoughts, in my dreams, in every single goddamn place i go. and it took me way too long to say it, but i want to be with you so badly that it kills me. you know this is real, and i will do anything to prove it to you.” he takes a step closer, but you move away and put your hand up as a warning.
it’s everything you’ve been wanting him to tell you, but it’s too late. you don’t know how to forgive him yet, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to forget.
“i can’t, chris. i just…i don’t know anymore.” you sound so defeated, but you don’t care.
by the grace of god, your friends pull up at the exact right moment to save you. cass throws her hazards on and stops the car, glaring bullets at him through the glass as she waits for you to get in.
you’re done talking for now, and chris recognizes that. there’s nothing he can do or say to take it back, and as much as he wants to keep trying, it’ll only push you even further. so he nods his head once solemnly, vision beginning to blur as he takes all of you in one last time.
you’re the girl of his dreams, and he’s absolutely fucked it.
“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he repeats as you pile into the backseat, unable to conjure up any words besides those ones.
it registers in your head, but you don’t respond. you can’t even look at him anymore, because it’s too hard to think about what could have been. so you close the door hard, determined to shut him out of your life for good this time.
@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi
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itsabouttimex2 · 6 months ago
Note
I have been going insane about the not beloved au.
The idea and sheer emotions of it just cling to me and haven’t left me for days and I blame you. Just the idea of [User] not only not being the beloved- but in a way being solely viewed that way- and in a sense being completely treated as such where it is very obvious- just- I love it.
The pure angst potential with the au is there and I -‘ screeching about it.
Y/N’s Not The Beloved?
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(Monkiefam)
Exactly- Y/N is so heavily defined by being “not the beloved” that it kinda becomes their entire character.
Just like some people get jammed into slots they’re undeserving of by born traits or mere appearances, Y/N is out here getting pigeonholed into the “not our favorite” just because MK is the little monkey demon that their parents dreamed of having for so long.
And it doubly sucks ass, because Sun Wukong and Macaque are such good parents to MK that any criticism on your part will be questioned and “debunked” by well-meaning peers who probably just see you as “spoiled” or “jealous”.
Like, imagine this: your classmate, Y/N, is the adopted child of the fucking legendary hero, Monkey King. He’s married to; of all people, to the infamous Six-Eared Macaque. They have an adorable adopted son who is also a demon monkey.
And if what Y/N has to say about this whole family dynamic is “they spoil my brother too much/love him more than me/expect me to constantly look after him” and like…
From their perspective?
Bitch! You are privileged beyond compare and comprehension! You have two unimaginably powerful parents! They could crumble a civilization and raise a new from the smoldering ashes! They could impose themselves as gods and demand proper tribute! And instead they adopt a silly little mortal out of the goodness of their hearts, and you have the gall to “whine” about it not being enough?
Some of your classmates get beaten for bringing home bad grades? Some of them have dead parents? And a few were disowned for being queer! Others live in filth! Some have literally nothing! Why are you so damn “ungrateful”, Y/N?!
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And then desperately trying to explain that yes, you are grateful for them and everything they’ve done, it’s not right for you to miss out on fundamental life experiences just because MK didn’t want you to go, or to nearly flunk a test because you couldn’t sleep on account of MK demanding your attention, or to lose friends that you were never allowed to hang out with because MK didn’t like them.
It’s especially bad in the situation that Y/N is particularly young, around say… under thirteen, or maybe semi-verbal, if they’re shy or anxious, and they haven’t learned how to properly communicate and express themselves in a conducive and effective manner, which leads to exchanges where what Y/N says is utterly ineffective at conveying what they mean, like:
“My parents love MK more than me.” (My parents unhealthily prioritize him even at a cost to myself.)
“Aww, sweetie! He’s just new to your house! You’ll get used to him!”
“I have to babysit MK so much that I don’t get to hang out with my friends.” (My budding social life is beginning to crumble under the weight of being a caretaker to my little brother.)
“You’re such a good older sibling! I bet your parents are really grateful to have a babysitter on hand!”
“MK wanted to go somewhere new yesterday, and he made our dads take me. I didn’t get to sleep.” (MK’s immediate happiness is becoming more important to both of our fathers than my physical health.)
“I bet you all had a lot of fun if you’re this tuckered out, huh? You’re lucky they took you!”
It gets to the point that Y/N, as they grow up, turns to the internet for validation and support in their life, probably to results that are equally split towards positive/negative.
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“NTA- Clearly your fathers do not respect your health or feelings! Pack up and move out!”
“I can’t move out though? We live on a sacred mountain and I’ve never had a job because they make me babysit MK instead.”
“ESH cause y’all sound exhausting. I’d beat the fuck out of this “MK” TBH. What a brat.
“He’s nine though??? WTF dude?”
“Honestly all these NTAs and ESHs are so confusing clearly OP is a fucking ungrateful brat who’s gonna regret pushing their family away when they’re alone and have nobody. MASSIVE YTA kiddo.”
“I just want to stay home and sleep because I’m tired as hell from all the other family trips that I went on with my family? This is the first time I’m saying no?”
And slowly growing more and more ostracized and confused by everything in their nonconventional little family and how MK’s obsession with them is both fueled and enabled by Wukong and Macaque’s obsession with him, all slowly heading to a peak-
And when you snap, you are inevitably going to snap hard.
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year ago
Text
Follow Me
Luke Castellan x daughterofares!Reader
Summary: Luke's girlfriend is excited to finally become a year-round camper so she can spend it with him. But Luke has other plans for them.
Warning: Major spoilers if you haven't finished the first book(/season depending on when you read this), canon-level violence, weapons, injuries, angst
Word Count: 5.5K
Masterlist
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A/N I haven't watched the show because I don't have Disney+ so I'm working from (memory of) the books. No characters are specifically book or show so descriptions are left vague. Imagine whatever you want.
I stumbled my way up Half-Blood Hill, determined to get to Thalia’s tree. This was my last year being a summer camper. After I graduated high school I’d decided to become a year round camper seeing as the real world was getting more and more dangerous for me. And I'd be damned if I let myself be killed right before I was in the safety of camp for good.
I was in so much pain, there was blood pouring out of my abdomen caused by the crocotta’s razor sharp claws slicing at me. My short break gave it enough time to catch up to me so rather than continuing to flee, I was forced to turn and face it. I pulled out my father’s gift to me, a sword made of celestial bronze that grew from a steel knife that could harm mortals. When he claimed and gifted it to me I found the steel useless. Why would I ever need to harm a mortal? The reasoning behind the dual blade still eluded me. The only reason I could think of was just that Ares had a penchant for violence.
As the crocotta bounded closer to me, all I could do was stand and wait for it to get within range. But upon reaching me, it just swiped the sword from my grasp, pouncing on me. I felt a tear slip down my face as I realized I’d failed to reach safety one final time. As it growled in my face and opened its jaw, I sent a silent prayer to my father and a goodbye to Luke. But before it’s jaws could clamp down on me, the weight lifted and a shimmery cloud of ichor rained down on me.
As the golden dust settled, I could see my boyfriend’s face above mine, standing over me, clutching his dagger. “Luke,” I practically sobbed in relief.
“Oh my gods,” he exclaimed, kneeling down next to me. His hands went to my stomach, pressing against the open wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “Can you walk?” he asked, fear in his eyes.
“Yeah,” I nodded, letting him take my hand as he stood. Truthfully I probably couldn’t really walk but it was either walk 10 feet to the tree or lie here waiting for someone else to help Luke carry me in and potentially getting attacked by another monster.
I let out a groan as Luke slung my arm over his shoulder, pulling me up from the ground. “C’mon,” he urged, “just get to the tree and then we’ll get some more people to help you.” I nodded, not bothering with a verbal agreement as I let my boyfriend practically carry me just past Thalia’s tree. “There we go,” he said gently as he eased me to the ground.
“Go. Go get Lee or Michael,” I urged him as he kneeled by my side again.
“No,” Luke immediately shot down. “I’m not leaving you like this and so close to the edge of the barrier.” I glanced to my left. We were about three feet from the edge of the camp’s protective barrier. “Help!” I heard him yell towards camp.
“What? Do you think I'm accidentally gonna roll down the hill?” I tried to joke. But my chuckle made my wounds hurt even more.
Seeing my pain made Luke even more unamused. Soon enough a few other campers ran up to us, having heard Luke’s call.
“Y/N, oh my god.”
“What happened?”
“Another one?!”
I heard the various reactions from other campers. Another one? What did they mean another one? But I didn’t dwell on my questions for long because Lee Fletcher and Michael Yew were running towards me. A few of my siblings followed them carrying a stretcher. As the Apollo boys started to try to stop the bleeding, I was moved onto the stretcher. But the pain of being lifted was so bad I blacked out.
~
When I came to in the sickroom of the Big House all I could feel was pain. I let out a soft groan, snapping Luke to attention. He was slumped over on my bedside, seemingly sleeping. He immediately grabbed a piece of ambrosia off the nightstand next to the cot, bringing it to my lips. I immediately rejected it, not feeling like eating anything.
“C’mon, it’s ambrosia. It’ll make you feel better,” Luke pleaded. Reluctantly I let him coax the food into my mouth and ate it. The comforting taste of my mother’s chocolate cake filled my mouth. Despite the fact that it tasted good, it felt heavy in my stomach and I pushed the food away. “You gotta eat more than that,” he tried again.
“Let’s start with water or nectar,” I suggested, my throat sore.
Luke looked at the floor angrily. He sighed. “We’re out of nectar for a while. Ambrosia is all we have.”
“What?” I asked in shock, sitting up in surprise. Luke was quick to coax me back down.
“Grover and the kid he was helping got attacked by the Minotaur on their way here. Just like the crocotta attacked you.”
“Oh my god,” I murmured. “Is that why someone said ‘Another one?’ as they were bringing me here?”
He nodded once again. “His name was Percy. He showed up the night before you did.” He suddenly stopped talking. Like he had something more to say. I urged him to continue and he did so reluctantly. “Poseidon claimed him the second night he was awake… and now he’s on a quest.”
I looked at him sympathetically. I knew all about Luke’s anger about going unclaimed for so long. And then when he finally was claimed and had trained to be a great hero, all Hermes could give him to do was steal some golden apples. But after countless rants about this I knew he wouldn’t want sympathy. “You said he’s on a quest already? How long have I been out?”
“A couple days. Chiron and Lee kicked me out for a while.”
“What’d you do?”
“Well, we already need new practice dummies for combat training,” he admitted sheepishly. I laughed and fortunately Luke did too.
By now, Chiron had sensed I was awake and entering the sickroom. As he ducked his way through the door he shrunk down back into his wheelchair so as to not overwhelm me. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. You gave us quite a scare for a few days,” he smiled.
“So I've heard.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like my guts were ripped out by a crocotta,” I answered.
“Well the ambrosia should help the pain and scarring. Lee stopped the bleeding and stitched you up but he said you’d be out for a few days.”
“Can you get her some nectar?” Luke interrupted. “She’s not exactly in a place to be eating solid foods.”
“Mr. D is trying to get into contact with Apollo. Apparently he’s concerned that Dionysus is overindulging.”
“That’s crap!” Luke suddenly burst out.
“Luke!” Chiron immediately cut him off. “I know you’re concerned for Ms. L/N, here but the food of the gods is in of itself a privilege.” He then turned his attention back to me. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well but ambrosia will have to do until we’re able to get more nectar.”
“Thanks, Chiron,” I tried to dismiss him, giving him a tight lipped smile. Sensing my disappointment he took his leave, wheeling out of the room.
Luke was back by my bedside with more pieces of ambrosia that I reluctantly took.
~
Thanks to the godly food I was up and walking within two days much to cabin 5’s relief. So many of my younger siblings were saying that Clarisse had been a terror in my absence. Something about a bathroom exploding and then she apparently tried to electrocute the new camper. I made a note to talk to her later but for now I was focused on getting my cabin back in order. They responded best to authority and a routine so I quickly had them out in training, telling them that I wouldn’t tolerate us losing capture the flag again.
We made our way down to the arena for sword fighting lessons. Luke and I were both instructors seeing as we were the oldest two campers and the best with blades. Our childhood competitiveness had eventually grown into love but for a while, we hated each other. We used to spend hours trying to get the upper hand over one another.
But now that we were dating, the younger campers always tried to goad us into sparring with one another. We always said that we’d save our sparring match for our own training or a reward for the others doing well but usually a few teasing comments had our swords pointed at one another.
I was correcting a Hermes camper’s form when he asked me to try fighting Luke. “Not today,” I laughed.
“Why? Is it because you’re scared?” he asked, knowing exactly what he was doing.
“No,” I corrected him. “It’s because once we fight, none of you will care about what we teach you.”
“Sound like you’re scared,” the boy just repeated.
I just rolled my eyes, prepared to dismiss him when Luke’s voice interrupted. “Yeah, Y/N. It sounds like you’re scared.” I rolled my eyes again as he approached. “I wouldn’t want to fight the capture the flag champion either.”
“You only won because I was recovering from being chased across the country by a monster. Just wait until the next game, I’ll show you how Cabin 5 does it.” That elicited a few cries of encouragement from my cabin, eager to win their flag back.
“You need a bit more time to train, I get it,” he mockingly offered. A few of his siblings joined in on the taunting with their exaggerated reactions.
“I don’t need time. I’d just rather not cut you up this early into the summer,” I smiled. A few ‘ooh’s came from our audience.
Luke bristled a little at that. “C’mon,” he gestured to the arena, “let’s settle this once and for all.”
I picked up one of the practice swords that resembled the size and weight of my real sword, stepping into the middle of the arena. “You say that every time.” Luke smiled, taking his spot in front of me with his practice sword as the other campers backed up.
I barely gave him a chance to settle before I was moving. I had the advantage of my father’s knack for fighting and aggression but I wasn’t as strong as Luke. Unfortunately, he knew all my moves and tricks so he was able to block me. But that also meant I knew all of his moves and tricks because I could anticipate his subsequent moves.
We continued on, trying to outmaneuver each other. He kept forcing me out of range, protecting his body, whilst I tried to find an opening to get close to him. The other campers had been within the walls of the arena but we moved around so much they were forced to jump out.
The only reason we stopped was because our little “lesson” had gone on too long and Chiron was wondering where his students were. Neither of us noticed him until he yelled our names. “Y/N L/N! Luke Castellan! What are you doing?” We both immediately stopped, facing the centaur like guilty children.
“We were just introducing them to technique,” Luke offered. I could tell Chiron saw right through his excuse but it was good enough reasoning.
“You both know you’re supposed to hold off on sparring one another. Children,” he turned to the other campers, “what did your instructors teach you?”
“Stance!”
“What to do if your opponent has a longer sword!”
Those were the answers our siblings offered but one Aphrodite camper’s answer ruined the whole thing. “How to waste time.” Luke and I both sent her stares.
Fortunately Chiron didn’t take it too seriously. “Save the sparring for your own sessions,” he warned us. “Everyone move on to your next activities. I’m sure your instructors are waiting.”
As everyone else filed off, Luke and I looked at each other. “You’re disgusting,” I laughed, observing his sweaty shirt.
He looked baffled at that. “Wow. I was gonna ask if you’re okay but clearly you don’t value me that much,” he answered in mocking offense.
“No, no, no,” I corrected through laughs, going to him. But as soon as he tried to hug me, I pulled away with a wrinkled nose. Seeing my disgust, he forcefully hugged me, drowning me in his B.O. When I finally wrestled my way out of his arms I was disgusting. “Ugh we both need showers.”
He smiled. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he promised. He stepped closer to me, kissing me quickly before heading off towards the showers. I watched him leave for a moment before heading to my cabin.
Later that night at dinner, I was talking to my cabin-mates when Luke came over, crouching by me. “Hey,” he smiled up at me as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
“Hi,” I laughed. “What are you doing here?”
“Being a good boyfriend. I’m just giving you a heads up that our spar from earlier isn’t over yet.”
“What?”
Chiron stood up and so did Luke. “Gotta go, bye,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple before scurrying off.
Bewildered, I looked up at Chiron. “We have a special activity tonight per the request of the reigning capture the flag champions. We’ll be playing again tonight seeing as some claimed our last games were unfair due to a missing counselor.” Cabin 5 erupted into cheers, eager to win the flag back. “Luke Castellan and Y/N L/N are captains. Same rules as the prior games.”
Not willing to let my cabin lose again, I jumped into action. “Cabin 5, armor on, get to the creek in 5!” They all quickly scrambled off. Our allies for this game, Dionysus, Aphrodite, Demeter, and Hephaestus followed their lead.
I followed after them to get my armor as well and soon enough I was stood by the creek, discussing strategy with my teammates. Once our discussion time drew to a close, I faced my opposing captain. “You’re going down, feather feet,” I sneered.
“We’ll see, hot head,” Luke taunted.
I laughed. “Oh yeah, one more thing,” I told my teammates. “Bring me Luke’s sword and helmet.”
“In your dreams,” he taunted back. He looked at his team. “Bring me Y/N.”
“Okay,” Chiron interrupted us. “Before we begin I think we need a reminder that killing is not permitted. Are we clear?” A few unenthusiastic agreements came from the crowd. Nodding, Chiron blew into the horn, signaling that the games had begun. Some of my campers who hadn’t already been stationed bolted into the trees, doubling back so they could hopefully sneak through Hermes’ cabin’s defenses. The others stayed with me to defend the most obvious point.
One Hermes kid immediately jumped at me but I slashed him in the chest, (his armor protected him so he just got the wind knocked out of him) knocking him back into the water.
He got back up, running at one of my campers but he was immediately disarmed and taken prisoner. By the time I looked back, the other campers and Luke were gone. I realized with a frustrated scream that this kid was a distraction. “Find them!” I yelled at the others.
“Their territory or ours?” I observed the 5 campers in front of me. “You three, stay on our side. Fan across the creek, look for signs they crossed into our territory. The rest of you, we’re gonna either hunt them down in their territory or take their flag.”
My group leapt over the creek, running into the forest.
As we searched, we picked up a few of our own teammates, running through the woods and strangely finding no opposing campers. We continued on nonetheless until Athena and Apollo campers all of a sudden started darting through the trees.
Eventually they stopped moving enough for us to have a proper fight. I faced Malcom Pace, easily disarming him. But suddenly his older brothers were on me. As I was busy fighting twins, Leo and Cato, another one of the boys found an opening. Quinn wrapped his arms around me, a dagger at my throat. “Drop the sword,” they told me.
Seeing as I wasn’t getting out of this but my teammates were gone while many of the Athena and Apollo campers were still here, I dropped the sword. Most of my campers got away and were likely hunting down the flag.
Before they could decide where to stash their prisoner, the horn blew again, signaling the end of the games. But as I tried to leave, the others stopped me. “Woah, Luke said he wanted you so we’re taking you.”
I rolled my eyes, letting them lead me to the creek. “Yeah, well when my cabin gives me his stuff and the flag, you can apologize to me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Quinn dismissed. “You’re just mad I beat you.”
“You only ‘beat me’ because there were three of you. And you guys still lost the rest of my team.”
“We still got you!” Leo taunted in a sing-songy voice. By now we had reached the creek and I saw Clarisse holding the flag, a helmet, and a sword. Luke was kneeled beside her looking humiliated, clearly a captive.
Both sides let us go and I went to Clarisse. “Your spoils,” she presented me the flag, helmet, and sword. I smiled, wrapping the flag around her shoulders and taking Luke’s stuff.
“Thank you!” I said emphatically, pointing a look of victory at Luke.
He just shook his head, standing up. As he approached me I figured he was grabbing his belongings but instead he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in for a kiss. When he pulled away he explained. “You’re my spoil.”
~
Camp life continued on as normal for a while. I finally met the newest hero who had returned Zeus’ masterbolt— he did not like my father. He seemed surprised that Luke and I were dating and I learned that Luke had become a sort of mentor to Percy over the days that I had been asleep. That also surprised me, given how resentful Luke had seemed towards him when I first woke up. Regardless, everything seemed normal as we continued our routines throughout the summer until I was woken up one night.
“Y/N,” a voice whispered, shaking me. “Y/N.” I reluctantly opened my eyes, finding one of my younger brothers, Aiden, shaking me. “Luke’s asking for you.”
“What?” I asked, sitting up.
“Luke wants to talk to you. He gave me a coke if I woke you up.” The boy excitedly held up a shiny red can as if to persuade me to go.
I rubbed his messy hair as I sat up. “Don’t let Clarisse see that,” I advised, throwing on a hoodie. He nodded, going back to his bunk as I headed outside. “Luke!” I whispered into the night upon exiting the cabin. I didn’t notice him sneaking up towards me until his hands were around my waist. “Luke!” I exclaimed in surprise.
He quickly hushed me. “Do you want the harpies to find us?”
“Well we wouldn’t have to worry about that if you weren’t trying to talk to me in the middle of the night. What’s wrong?” I asked, knowing it’d be serious. He let his playful facade drop as he urged me to follow him, taking my hand. I went with him, silently trusting him until I realized we were heading to the woods. I stopped, letting my hand fall out of his grasp. “What? Are you gonna kill me in there?” I laughed shallowly, trying to lighten the mood and quell the alarms in my brain.
Luke returned my shallow laugh, clearly nervous. “Of course not. Look, I have to talk to you. It’s serious.” I could see the genuineness in his expression so I let him retake my hand. “I’d never hurt you,” he promised. So I followed him further into the woods until he deemed us far enough. “The nymphs may hear us but it’s kind of impossible to avoid them,” he chuckled.
“Hear what?” I asked.
He took a breath, seemingly composing himself. “You know how I went on that quest? For my dad?”
“Yeah. What? You want to go out into the world again?” I asked, a little relieved.
“Sort of,” he offered. “But on that ‘quest,’” he mocked the word, “I realized something: the gods are useless.”
“Luke!” I immediately reprimanded him.
“No,” he cut me off. “You don’t have to pretend like not fawning over the gods is a crime. We shouldn’t be blindly worshipping them. Y/N,” his hands were clasping my shoulders as if begging me to believe him, “your father waited for the last day of summer your first year to claim you. Why? Just to mess with you? Because he just couldn’t be bothered to do it until he remembered at the last second? That’s messed up. The gods aren’t fit to rule. The West is going to hades. My quest? To repeat Heracles’ quest? All the gods know how to do is repeat the past. Their glory days.”
“Luke, you’re scaring me.” I was practically begging him to stop talking so we could go back to the way it was. This was the first year I’d be staying year round. We were supposed to be celebrating Christmas together for the first time in a few months. Yet here he was, spouting off heresy.
“Open your eyes,” he insisted. “The gods are poisoning the world and they’ve been using us as pawns to do it. The only way to fix it is to destroy it and start over with something more honest.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been having dreams sent by the Titan Lord.”
A shiver ran down my spine and I stepped out of his grasp. “No,” I heard myself whisper. “Luke, he’s using you. You remember what Chiron taught us. We are not better off, no one was better off when the Titans ruled. We didn’t even have fire. He will kill all the humans. He’ll kill us.”
“Not if we join him willingly,” Luke promised, trying to take my hand again but I pulled away. “He said when I bring down the gods he’ll reward me. He’ll make me immortal. He promised you’d become like me too.” He quickly grasped my wrist tight enough so I couldn’t escape, pulling me closer. “We can rule together, forever.” He was pleading with me to take his offer, his hands finding a stray lock of hair to tuck behind my ear.
“Luke… this isn’t- you can’t…” I was at a loss for words.
“Please, Y/N,” his voice was cracking.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. This isn’t right. This is dangerous, can’t you see that?”
“This isn’t me just trying to get back at my dad. I’ve thought about this.” He stiffened, still tightly grasping my wrist. “Y/N, I need you with me.”
“Then don’t go,” I begged him. “I won’t even tell anyone. We can just go back to how things were.”
“No, we can’t,” he shook his head. “Because you’re gonna try to help me by telling Chiron and he’s gonna turn me in.”
“No he won’t! Luke, he trained you. He’ll want to help you.”
“Camp isn’t safe for us anymore. We have to go.”
This was the first time I actually started fearing for my safety. I tried to pull out of his grasp but he held firm. “Go where?”
“Our Titan Lord got us a ship. We’ll be safe there until I get my next orders. The monsters on it won’t harm us.”
“What?!” With a hard wrench I pulled my wrist out of his grasp. I immediately started running, hoping a nymph would find me before a monster did but Luke was on me in seconds. He knocked me to the ground and after a little struggling he had me pinned. “Luke, please don’t do this,” I begged as I saw him reach into his pocket. When I saw the milk of the poppy I began to thrash underneath him but I couldn’t manage to throw him off of me. He forced my mouth open, dropping the liquid onto my tongue and forcing me to swallow. Before I blacked out, I could vaguely hear him speak.
“You’ll be okay in a few days and then we can talk.” A few days???
~~
The next morning Luke was woken by frantic cries of his girlfriend’s name heard throughout camp. He immediately rushed out of bed, putting on a concerned boyfriend facade. Finding one of his brothers, he asked what was going on. “What? Did you just wake up?” Luke nodded frantically. “Oh, I’m sorry man. Uh, Y/N wasn’t in bed this morning. No one can find her. One of her little brothers said you asked to talk to her last night.”
“Yeah to talk about potentially allying for capture the flag but she went right back in,” he insisted frantically. He ran a hand through his hair, acting stressed. He kind of whished he’d be gone by now but he needed to get rid of Percy before he could go.
He ran out of the cabin, immediately going up to Cabin 5. Clarisse spotted him, her expression becoming sour. “What’d you do Castellan? Aiden said you wanted to talk to her last night.”
“Yeah, we were talking about capture the flag but she went right back in 10 minutes later. You sleep 20 feet from her, where’s my girlfriend?” he challenged. Clarisse sent him a scowl but otherwise stormed off, the other Cabin 5 campers following her with similar expressions.
“Luke, I'm so sorry,” a young voice called. He turned, finding Annabeth running towards him. As she hugged him, Luke couldn’t help but think about how much he’d miss her. She was too smart for her own good but he still couldn’t help but think of the seven year old he had found hiding from monsters. “She could just be out somewhere?” she offered, trying to console him.
“I hope so,” he smiled down at her. He then spotted Mr. D and ran over to him. “Mr. D, can you find where she is?”
The god gave him a tired expression. “I’m not omniscient in this state. All I know is she’s not in camp.”
“Well can’t you get a god who is? Surely her father wants to know where she is,” he insisted. But Ares had plenty of demigod children and most of them went missing in action or died tragic deaths. Y/N would be just another hero child that fought in his name.
“Lord Ares has other concerns,” Mr. D at least tried to soften the blow. “If she hasn’t returned by the end of the summer then we must assume she is dead. Even if she left of her own volition.”
“But summer is ends tomorrow. You can’t do this. She could still be out there. She could need our help. Let me go out and search,” he pleaded. By now, Chiron, Clarisse, and a few others had joined them.
“No one is leaving,” Chiron declared. “I’m not letting anyone else go missing. Luke, I understand your concern but her blade was found in Cabin 5. If she’s not in camp she is likely already dead.”
“No,” Luke insisted, putting on the performance of a lifetime, “you’re wrong.”
After nearly two whole days of searching camp and the closest borders, (that was the furthest Chiron would let anyone go) Y/N L/N was declared dead. Her siblings reluctantly built a funeral pyre, decorating it with some of her things. Luke did his best to look devastated and it seemed to be working because no one looked at him twice other than to offer their sympathies. That at least made it easy to lure Percy off into the woods just before he left.
~~
When I woke up I was in a strange room. It looked like a hotel room except for the fact that the floor to ceiling windows showed that I was on the ocean. That triggered all the memories of Luke. A sense of hopelessness came over me and I was immediately breaking down in sobs. I didn’t want to believe that he had joined Kronos and turned his back on everything he knew or that he was determined to drag me with him.
Once I finally managed to compose myself I went to the door, hoping to find a radio so someone could get me. Or maybe even find Luke so I could talk him into letting me go. But once I opened the door I was met with the massive jaws of a hellhound. I immediately shut the door and locked it.
Still feeling unsafe I went to grab the dresser to block the door but either it was too heavy or bolted down. I tried the desk next resulting in nothing. I was running out of time as the monster was probably just trying to process what it saw. Soon it’d smell me and start trying to break down the door. So I resorted to the chair, dragging it across the floor and jamming it under the door handle. I then went to the massive windows, realizing there was a hidden door. I wrenched it open, stepping out into the fresh air. I looked around, seeing no land I’d be able to swim to. But just as I was considering my chances, I noticed the body of a massive whale-like creature. I was willing to bet that whales weren’t just swimming around a cruise ship, this was a cetus.
Seeing as I had nowhere else to go, I went back into the room. I went to the attached bathroom, searching for something to defend myself. There wasn’t really anything in there except bar soap and toilet paper. Luke must have removed everything, even the towels, so I couldn’t hurt him or anyone else. Frustrated, I went to the closet, finding it completely empty. Not even a hangar to pull apart and stab someone with. So I reluctantly grabbed the soap seeing as it was literally the only thing remotely resembling a weapon, and sat on the bed, watching the door.
I don’t know how long I sat there but eventually I heard the door shake, like something was trying to get in. As I was preparing to clobber the monster with my bar of soap, a voice I recognized called through the door. “C’mon, Y/N! Open the door,” Luke said. I didn’t dare move. I didn’t want to see him. “Open the door or I break it down!” he demanded.
It was either open the door or have absolutely no protection from the monsters so I reluctantly got up. “Okay, okay!” I answered. “Just give me a second.” I climbed off the bed, removing the chair. I only twisted the handle, letting the door open slightly before going back to the bed to put some distance between us.
As Luke was locking the door again, I took my chance. Jumping, I tried to bring the bar of soap down on him but he turned, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, you had to have known that wouldn’t work,” he smiled.
I only gave him a burning stare. “It was worth a shot,” I said, trying to pull my hand away. But his grip held fast, not letting me pull away.
“So I guess you still hate me?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “You kidnapped me and are now holding me hostage on a monster infested ship.”
“You’ll understand soon enough,” he dismissed, once again brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “Then we’ll be together forever.”
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year ago
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born to die - m. murdock
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a/n: IM NOT DEAD i am very busy with finals but this has been rattling around the old noggin for a while now. i took a lot of inspiration from @ellephlox 's fic strawberry rhubarb which i 100% reccomend bc its better than most fics including this one! hope you enjoy! as always reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: oh boy. torture (cutting, burning) some sexually suggestive talk (nothing happens but it's not consensual) readers dad abused her, nightmares, lots of major character death (but not permeant) ANGST!!! but with a happy ending! kidnapping, medical stuff, cursing, and if i missed anything, let me know! word count: 4.8k summary: as matt murdock's wife, your life is rather full of surprises. getting kidnapped by wilson fisk takes the cake as the worst one. pairing: matt murdock x wife!reader now playing: born to die - lana del rey "choose your last words, this is the last time/'cause you and i, we were born to die"
You would think after patching him up too many times to count, five years without him, and countless sleepless nights worrying if he was alive, you would think you’d be used to Matt Murdock and his world of surprises.
And then you get kidnapped, so maybe you’re not so immune to surprises.
It’s really such a shame too, because you’re storming out of the apartment, too angry to take notice of your surroundings.
Silly, foolish, ditzy you.
Because it isn’t like Matt hasn’t told you time and time again that you need to be careful, especially when you go out alone at night. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even think about the potential dangers of Hell’s Kitchen at three a.m. when Daredevil has been tucked away for the night and Matt Murdock comes back out to play.
He’s been taking more and more patrols because with Fisk being out of prison he can’t help but be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
How silly he was to think that maybe he could have it all—A successful law firm, good friends and a loving wife.
Silly, foolish, ditzy Matt.
But after a week of nonstop patrols, you’re both fed up and tired, and above all, you’re yearning for each other. Neither of you allow yourselves to be totally happy all the time. It would just make everything too easy.
So, after yelling at each other over, what? Patrols? Cases? Burnt dinners? You’re freezing on the streets, and you get about five blocks before you stop and rub your eyes.
This is dumb, you rationalize. Of course, you’re both stressed out and tired, but you’ve gotten through rougher times before, and you both made an oath. To each other, in front of his God, to love each other no matter what.
You realize you left your wedding ring on the table, the ghost of the metal around your finger haunting you. You were dumb for leaving and Matt was dumb for telling you to go. You’re made for each other.
You turn around to go back to your shared apartment, and then, someone grabs you from behind. Your first instinct is to yell for your husband, but you don’t get the chance to before you’re knocked out, by what you can only guess to be a gun or maybe a large fist.
• • •
You wake up in this dingy room, the lighting not suitable for much of anything except to make you afraid. The set up is almost comical and in a fucked up away, stereotypical for a kidnapping. You’re tied up to a chair, and the lights shine only bright enough so you can see shadows and rats scurrying along.
The air is this weird musk of salt and earth, and you realize you’re near the docks, and that’s about all you know about your current location.
Your head is still pounding from whatever it was you were hit with, but you can see another chair a few feet from you and a wooden table with various weapons laying on it. You don’t feel good about this one. Also on the table is an old school record player. You have no idea what the intention is with it.
You try to keep your cool, knowing that wherever you wander, your husband will not be very far off. That whatever is happening, he will be coming to find you no matter how upset he is for whatever it was you were fighting about earlier.
And then, out of the shadows, there he is. 
But he’s too big to be Matt, and he has a man standing next to him.
Frank, maybe?
And then you realize who this man is.
He’s Wilson Fisk, the kingpin who has done nothing but torture and kill people, shoving it in Matt’s face for years. Matt only met you after Fisk was put back in prison, and you know at some point in the five-year blip without Matt, he had escaped prison.
So, this is the first time you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fisk. When he meets your eye, you do nothing but stare.
“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock. It’s a shame we must meet under these circumstances.” He tells you, taking a seat in front of you. His henchman stands behind the chair.
“It’s regretful to say the least.” You tell him, not intending to make any more of an enemy out of him than Matt already has, not right now.
“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding. I remember my own, it was a rather special day.”
You know that was the day Matt took him down. The night that he, Karen and Foggy took him down.
“I’ve heard stories. It seemed like a lovely day.”
“You’re a much more gracious guest than your counterpart.”
“Well, I’m sure people say similar things about you and yours.”
He seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.
“You’re probably right about that, Mrs. Murdock. I wanted to tell you I’m terribly sorry these are the circumstances in which we are finally introduced. But it seems Mr. Murdock has been interested in finding out more about my endeavors. And you see, we simply cannot have that. I made a promise not to hurt Miss Page or Mr. Nelson but it seems you were not included in that deal.” Of course not, it had been a long time before you showed up. “So, you’re how we’re going to send Mr. Murdock a message.”
Huh.
So, this is how you die.
Well, you might as well go out with a bang.
“You see, Mrs. Murdock, When I was a boy—”
“I’m going to stop you, Mr. Fisk, because your sob story is rather dull. I know who you are. You were beaten by your father, just like I was. The difference is that I don’t use that as an excuse to murder my way to the top of the food chain. And you can torture me, assault me, whatever you feel you need to do. But if you think for a second that I’ll forget who’s coming to stop you, you are sorely mistaken. And if you think he’ll ever stop trying to find me, you do not know my husband very well.”
Fisk stares at you for a while, his gaze hardening into a glare.
“You’re right. You do know who I am. Because we’re rather similar.” He stands up and nods to the man nearby. “If Murdock can hear her far from here, make sure he hears her screaming.”
Then Wilson Fisk walks away, and you are left with the sickening gaze of a man who has no good intentions.
 The man goes to the record player and starts to play a song you recognize quickly as “Fly Me To The Moon” by Frank Sinatra. As he does this, he speaks,
“Hello, Mrs. Murdock. I’m John.” You stay quiet, and he just enjoys the song.
He picks up a knife from the table and goes to you, this grin on his face that makes you sick.
But you remember a trick from not only your childhood, but also from Frank who told you the key to remaining strong under torture—Distraction.
You stare straight ahead, trying not to mind as the man runs the knife over your skin. You think about Matt. You imagine him in his wedding suit, the smile he had on as you approached him down that aisle. You think about when he asked you to marry him, and—
A sharp pain slashes down your arm, cutting open the shirt you’re wearing. You yell in pain, before moving in to try and take deep breaths.
You can do this. Matt will be here soon.
You continue to breathe through the anxiety and the pain, trying not to think too hard about when John hums along to Sinatra’s voice, guiding his knife around your skin. Another cut finds itself on your shoulder.
This goes on for a while, with the classic song looping over and over again. John never seems to tire of it, no matter how badly you will for it to end. As the song ends in one particularly good loop, John hits your face hard, and your nose starts bleeding.
You try to think of Matt’s voice. You don’t listen to John’s torments, knowing it will only egg him on further. You just want him to burn at that point.
By the end of… Countless Frank Sinatra serenades, you have cuts littered around your body, dry blood on your face from your nose and tears running down your face. When he’s eventually done, two men cut you out from the chair and drag you along to a smaller, darker room. You are left in there with a small meal, and you just huddle against a corner, nearest a barred window out of your reach.
And then, you begin to speak for the first time since you saw Fisk.
“Matt,” You whisper, “I’m by the docks.” You tell him, not sure if he can even hear you. “Please, I’m sorry for everything, please just come find me..” You mumble, too tired and aching to try and do more.
• • •
The next day, or what you presume to be the next day since you have no way to tell how much time has passed, you’re woken up by a loud banging on the door of your.. cell..?
The same two men enter and drag you back to the room, where John waits for you.
“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Murdock?” He asks.
You glare.
“Fuck you.”
He laughs and shakes his head.
“What happened to the polite young woman Mr. Fisk and I met yesterday?”
You’re filled with unprecedented anger.
“I said, Fuck you!”
He wastes no time, grabbing a lighter off the table and starting the record player again. Once more, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room, and you’re pretty sure once you’re done with John, and then Fisk, you’ll bring Sinatra back from the dead just to kill him again.
You’ve never really been a violent person, but you suspect that it lives in the worst parts of you, just as it did with your own father. You’re much better at keeping it all at bay. Besides, it does you no good to be violent while you have Matt. He’s plenty angry for the both of you.
Oh, Matt..
This is how time passes for you. While John tortures you, burning you or carving into your skin, you think about how great it will be to choke the life out of the singer… And you think about Matt. When you’re in your dark little room, you talk to him. Even if he can’t hear you, you must hope that he’s looking for you.
• • •
Days pass. How long have you been here?
One night, you have the following dream:
It starts out as a memory. A memory of you and Matt. You’re lying in bed with him, and the sunlight is hitting his face just right. You love this memory, it’s one you recall often. He just has this angelic look to him.
Yeah, most people who encounter him, especially at night, meet the devil. But occasionally, you get glimpses of the angel you know he is. He’s sleeping, and you think in this state, he is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.
Then, before your eyes, the dream shifts and you’re in this black void, on the ground.
Foggy, Karen, Frank, and Matt stand around you. You run to Matt but hit a clear shield keeping him from you. You bang on the glass, well, maybe it’s glass, you don’t know. You try to scream, but your voice never reaches your ears. You begin to look around, looking for a way out.
An eerie version of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ plays as you glance over to Foggy and watch in horror as his body begins to turn to ash, just like Matt and Karen did when they were blipped. You scream, banging against the shield, but your screams are silent.
You glance back and see the same thing happening to Frank. No, no, no! It was never supposed to happen this way! Frank and Foggy, they lived! They got their time! They don’t die like this!
And then Karen starts too. You start sobbing, not wanting her to go. You had missed her so much, and you only just got her back. But soon enough, she’s gone too, and you’re left in front of your husband.
His hand comes up to rest on the forcefield and he frowns softly.
He says your name gently, and then adds, “You know it couldn’t last forever, right?”
And then just as quickly as before, he is gone again. You remain there in that void, sobbing and screaming though no noise reaches you. This can’t be it! You just got him back, you needed him! You couldn’t take being alone for another five years… Or more…
The dream transforms and you’re in this grand ballroom. People are dancing elegantly and you’re in this.. obnoxious ball gown. But across the room, you can see Matt. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, with a red masquerade mask covering his face. The mask has little red devil horns on it.
Now, the orchestra plays their rendition of Sinatra’s romantic classic. And you step towards Matt, attempting to make your way towards him, only to be met with a masked man, beginning to twirl you around.
You jump from man to man, until eventually, you’re dancing with a man in an all-white suit, a man you quickly recognize as Fisk. No matter how hard you try to escape his grasp, he holds on tighter. The two of you stop dancing now, amid the crowd of moving bodies.
Fisk grabs your chin and tilts it in Matt’s direction, just in time for you to see him bowing to another woman, kissing the back of her hand. Your eyes widen and you think, this can’t be real.
“When I kill you,” Fisk says, “He’ll move on. You’re easily replaceable, Mrs. Murdock.”
And then, in an instant, the woman with Matt pulls out a dagger and plunges it deeply into his abdomen. It’s then that the other dancers, besides you, Fisk, Matt, and this mystery woman, disappear. Matt turns to you and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.
He tries to crawl to you, blood seeping onto his hands and the beautiful ballroom floor. He yells your name, and the woman stabs him again from behind, and you watch as your husband dies. You hear him screaming, hear him yelling your name. But Wilson Fisk keeps you in place. You can do nothing but watch as Matt Murdock meets his end again, unable to save him. You start to scream, thrashing against Fisk, ready to claw your way to Matt.
You wake up screaming, the nightmare haunting you. A guard bangs on your door, yelling at you to keep it down.
It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Maybe Matt heard your screams.
Maybe he’s already dead.
You force yourself not to listen to the voice in your head that says that.
• • •
One day, Fisk visits again, only this time, He’s covered in blood. That damn song is still playing.
You just stare. They have long since stopped tying you up, recognizing that you no longer have the energy to try and fight back.  He has this sick grin on his face.
“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock.” You say nothing. “Have you been enjoying your stay with us?”
You glare.
“I hope Matt kills you when he gets here, because it will be a lot less painful for you if he does it instead of me.”
Mr. Fisk just laughs at this and tosses something at your feet. You get down off the chair to see what it is.
Your face goes pale with realization. You pick it up and slip it on your thumb, with it being too big for your other fingers. Matt’s wedding ring. You know it’s his, it has your name engraved in braille on the inside. How did he get this?
As if reading your mind, Fisk speaks again. “I took it off his body after I killed him.”
Your head shoots up to him. What did he say?
“No.” You deny. “Fuck off, I don’t—I don’t believe you.”
“Your husband is dead, Mrs. Murdock. I killed him with my bare hands because he was stupid enough to come after you. Your friends will mourn you and Matt Murdock for a while, and the city will come to the realization that Daredevil did nothing but harm. I win, Mrs. Murdock.”
You feel tears start to fill your eyes, and you realize, no. He hasn’t won because you’re still alive.
Maybe not for long, but you are.
You gather the rest of your energy and leap up, lunging at the large man covered in the man you love’s blood. And there’s a part of you that gets it. Okay, universe, you win. Most people don’t get a second chance like the two of you did. And now he’s dead, and soon you will be too. You can at least try to kill Fisk.
But you barely get a scratch in, yelling and screaming obscenities at him, as John grabs your arms from behind pulling you away. Fisk laughs and shakes his head again.
“It’s been lovely knowing you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m sorry you’ll have to die, you had so much potential. John, when you’re done doing whatever you’d like to her, kill her.” You hear him say it, but you’re blinded by rage, by grief.
John laughs behind you and forces you back into the chair, tying you back up once more. He looks at you, enraged and grief stricken, and just shakes his head.
“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”
He leaves for a few minutes, and you realize this is the first time you’ve been left alone in this room. You tug at the knots and realize that while John is a gifted torturer, he’s not much of a knot tier.
So you manage to wiggle out of the rope, approaching the table in front of you. You don’t have much time. Okay, maybe you won’t be able to kill Fisk, but John will do. You take a golf club off the table in front of you and turn to the record player.
You begin to smash the thing in, angrily cursing at it as Frank Sinatra’s voice fades off into nothing. When the song ends, the lights turn off. And then, red flood lights turn on in their place.
A back up generator. Lovely. You think that your smashing of the record player couldn’t possibly make the whole building’s power go off, but you don’t really care at that moment.
You’re tired. You won’t make it far, but you need to try. You grasp the club and open the door, being greeted with a man you don’t recognize. You smack him in the face with the club hard enough for him to fall to the ground.
The red lighting adds an eerie tone to the hallways as you creep around, concussing various henchmen that Fisk has working for him. You don’t mean to kill these ones, only John.
But you’re running out of stamina, peeking around corners. And that’s when you see him. John is just standing there like he knows you’re there.
“Come out to play, Mrs. Murdock?” He calls, approaching the corner where you are waiting on the other side.
You focus on his footsteps, taking a swing around the corner when you know he’s close enough. You hear a sharp crack! As he falls, and you can’t see the blood in this lighting. Good. You begin to hit his head in, sobs mixing with yelling. You hate him. You want him to die before you’re killed.
But you don’t get the pleasure, because a pair of arms are pulling you off him, and you begin yelling.
“No!” You yelp. “No, Fuck you! Let go of me! Stop!” You think it’s another one of his goons, and you just want to be able to finish the job before you die. The figure forces you to drop the club. “Please, stop, don’t hurt me—”
But he’s saying your name and turning you around to see him. You know that voice.
“Sweetheart, hey, it’s just me—” He pants, his hands going to your cheeks. “It’s me, It’s just me. I’ve got you.”
And you can’t believe your eyes.
“Matt..?” You whimper, not able to believe it. “No, you’re dead, this has to be—”
And then, Matt does something he wouldn’t do for anyone who wasn’t his wife. He pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. Oh.
“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He says softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin.
That’s when you start to sob, falling against him, no energy left to carry yourself. His arms wrap around you, and you say it again.
“He told me you were dead..”
“I know.. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he got my ring but we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He tells you.
You’re so tired. You’re slumping against him as you try to walk, the warmth radiating off his body just drawing you to sleep.
The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Matt’s voice, begging you to stay awake.
• • •
You see flashes. Your parents, your dad. Nightmares of Fisk killing Karen, Foggy, Frank, and worst of all, Matt. You see John’s sickening grin on the body of spiders, and you’re chased by his cruel laughter.
But the dreams are filmier compared to what’s happening around you. You know Claire shows up at some point, and you’re thankful to her. Karen sits next to you sometimes, petting your hair, or sometimes it’s Foggy, talking your ear off.
You have fever dreams of Frank in full military gear, tormenting you.
“Not so tough now, huh, girl?” He teases. “You really thought you’d kill the big bad wolf? Solve all your boyfriend’s problems?”  
You say to him, “Husband, He’s my husband.”
• • •
Even in your dreams, where you were slashed and burned aches, and you long for the pain to end.
You wake up only once throughout these dreams, and it’s when Karen is playing music to try and calm you from your insistent nightmares.
Only one song snaps you out of it, and you hear it clear as day.
‘Fly me to the moon,” Sinatra sings, “Let me play among the stars,’
He only gets through a few more lines before you’re sitting up on the couch, screaming.
“No! Stop, please!” You cry, and in an instant, Matt’s arms are around you. “Matt, please, don’t let him hurt me, please! Please don’t die, don’t let him keep hurting me!” You beg, in a hazed, frenzied state.
“I’ve got you, No one’s going to hurt you..”
Karen turns off the music somewhere deep in the apartment.
“No..” You begin to grow tired in his arms again. “Matty, please.. You can’t die, please..” You whimper out, continuing to mumble out pleads as you fall back into your weird dream state.
• • •
You really wake up two days later. Matt’s hand is clasped over yours, and he’s just.. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, praying into your clasped hands.
Praying for what, you don’t know.
Your body aches. But something in you tells you you’re safe.
“Matt…?” You whisper gently, and his head shoots up.
“Hey..” He says softly, one hand leaving yours, coming up to brush your hair out of your face. “There she is..”
“You’re alive..”
He seems a little concerned you still had some doubts about this.
“I am. Fisk lied to you.. He never even touched me.” You nod.
“Did I kill him? The man you found me..”
“No. He’s just in a coma, I checked. He’ll be brought to justice.”
“I only wanted him dead when I thought you were too..” Because really, you would have nothing if Matt wasn’t there. Nothing to live for. When he was blipped away, you had the hardest time readjusting to life. Now you know if he died again, you’d probably go off the rails.
No love story is saved more than once. You used up all your luck. Now it will be doomed if he’s ever killed again.
“I know.” He said gently.
“How long have I been out? How long was I in there?”
“A week, and then you were out for four days here. They got you good, baby..” He says gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”
You frown softly.
“You did find me though. That’s all that really matters anymore.” You know you’ll be nursing scars for a long time. Physical or not.
“Still..” He said gently, and he brings your hand up to kiss it gently. “And I’m sorry I told you to leave that night. I was just upset, but this past week and half.. I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you. No matter how mad at you I am, I never want to spend another night without holding you. Knowing that you could have been…” His voice breaks, and he just sighs, taking a moment to lean his head on your hand. “I love you, so much.” He kisses your palm again.
How are you so tired again? All you’ve done is talk to him, but it feels like you just ran a marathon.
“I love you. It’s why I married you. Because you and I, we were always meant to be with each other. No matter what.”
He smiles weakly and reaches over to the coffee table to grab something. He slips it on your finger and for the first time in over a week, your wedding ring is back where it belongs. You see Matt is wearing his. Your Matt. Your husband. The only one you were ever meant to be with.
“Did Claire patch me up? I remember her being here..” He nods softly.
“Yeah, we.. we really owe her one. She was a huge help..”
“Karen and Foggy were here… And Frank?”
“No, no, Frank’s still in Illinois, I think?” You nod softly. “You were mumbling to him, though. I heard you… you were telling him you had a husband.”
You would laugh if it didn’t hurt.
“He called you my boyfriend. I had to correct him.” You grin.
“That’s my girl.” He hums. Matt gently lifts you so you can sit up and drink some water. Then, he climbs onto the couch and brings you close. His arms wrap around your freshly wounded skin and you have a rare moment of gratefulness for his blindness.
You sit in silence for a while.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.
You think about it all. The torture, the cuts, burns, the small room. Fisk’s laughter, John’s grin. But something sticks out to you.
“Fisk said I was just like him.”
“What?”
“We.. We grew up similar, Matt, I mean.. What if he’s right? What if the only thing separating him and I is one bad move?”
Your husband frowns and shakes his head.
“Sweetheart, you are the.. the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re the complete antithesis of Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you grew up like him, but you’re living proof that you don’t have to go down the path he did just because of his background. You and I both know that there will never be a world where you end up like him. Especially not with me.”
You find comfort with his words. Not only did you make every choice not to be like Fisk, but you must’ve also made all the right decisions if in the end, you ended up with Matt. Oh, it won’t be easy, you know that for sure. You’ll never be able to listen to Frank Sinatra, and your upcoming nights are filled with nightmares and hauntings.
But one day you’ll be okay. One day You’ll be able to sit in the silence without thinking about it. One day you’ll get the image of dead Matt out of your head. You’ve spent many nights wondering about who will go first, you or him.
And then you realize the best-case scenario is that the two of you die at the same time, never living another moment without each other.
How would there ever be a world where you and your husband weren’t with each other, even just for a moment?
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rhiannonsknife · 5 months ago
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heyyy first of all, i just needed to say that your writing is soooo fucking good like i was genuinely impressed when you said that english isn't your first language because I can't imagine how this could get any better. Also, it isn’t only about the way you write but also the way you just get each character perfectly. That's just... woah, just woah. So yeah, I hope you keep on writing for a long time for the sake of everyone's happiness lol
And lastly, you remembered us about how you also write for the rest of the yellowjackets, not that I don't enjoy the whole "let's give love to all ella purnell's characters" thing going on here buuuut i remembered one scenario has been in my mind for a while and I'd love if you wrote about it.
Shauna, after losing so much to the wilderness, carries this relentless, overwhelming anger that keeps most of the other girls at a distance. Even those who aren't outright scared of her still know better than to get too close. She obviously needs love and comfort, but god help anyone who tries to say that to her. And then r decides to take a shot, carefully inching closer without setting her off. Slowly but surely, r makes progress. First, just being allowed in Shauna's space, then a hand on her shoulder, brushing her hand, maybe even touching her hair. When Shauna finally lets her guard down, r sees just how touch-starved she really is, how deeply she needs someone to just be there, to be her person.
Shauna and r start disappearing for hours, slipping off to somewhere, maybe the airplane, where r can pepper her face with kisses, making her feel safe. And Shauna just lets herself melt in those moments, holding r close.
my mind just goes ogdofgkditwukymg w her
── NO ONE COULD SAVE ME BUT YOU
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— summary: shauna shipman needs a hug. that’s it. that’s the summary.
— warnings: hurt/comfort. canon typical dark themes. implied cannibalism (duh). child loss. etc. so: angst. some fluff. did not beta-read this. + i had no clue how to start or end this fic.
— a/n: woah thank you so so much!! i genuinely appreciate that <3 i’m not planning on stopping any time soon! anyway, i hope you like how this turned out!!
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out here, she’s lost everything. you all know it, though none of you dares to actually talk about it. it doesn’t come as much of a surprise that she’s beginning to lose herself too. it’s concerning all the same.
shauna still gets her chores done, so it is not like you don’t have her support in this poorly built system, this attempt to keep things under control when -really- all last restraints of control were lost the morning you’d found jackie’s body, buried in the snow, and with all that came after that. the things no one ever speaks about.
perhaps that is why none of the girls have approached her yet: as long as she does what she’s supposed to do, why would anyone try and cross her, or potentially upset her? after what she’s done to lottie, it’s no surprise. sometimes, in moments during which you find yourself staring at her hands for reasons beyond you, you can see the flash of a scar, standing out against the thin skin of her knuckles.
maybe they’re scared of her. or scared of what she’s become, out here. it doesn’t make a difference. maybe you should all be scared of what you’ve become.
either way, it’s not fair. you obviously know that she needs the same comfort some of the other girls have found in each other, whether shauna wants to admit it or not.
so you -with nothing better to do for the most part- make it your mission to be this comfort for her.
at first, shauna gives you short, cold responses when you try to make small talk, but you keep at it. there’s nowhere to go anyway, nowhere she could flee to get away from your slightly awkward attempts to just talk. it’s a first step.
gradually, you notice her replies get a little longer, her posture softens, just slightly, and she doesn’t seem so quick to brush you off. a small sign, but it means you’re beginning to earn her trust. you don’t talk, not always. sometimes, you’ll just linger nearby and watch her prepare the last remaining pieces of meat or sit in the same room as she scribbles in the journal she’s brought from home.
sitting with shauna in silence becomes its own form of closeness; she doesn’t say much, but she lets you be near her. you can’t remember, now that you think about it, when she was last hugged. when she last felt the touch of another person. your heart aches at this realization. could it have been jackie? it already feels like a whole lifetime ago, that she'd been among the group.
over time, she actually starts letting you sit close enough that your legs touch. you hope it’s her way of saying that maybe she doesn’t mind your presence as much as she lets on.
one day, after a particularly hard night, you take a chance and rest a hand on shauna’s shoulder. you’ve noticed, even from a distance, that she doesn’t sleep well. truthfully, no one out here does. but, with your makeshift mattress closest to the spot she’s preoccupied in the farthest corner of the room, you often notice the way she flinches in her sleep, or shoots up in the middle of the night, panting heavily.
when you notice it that night, you slip out of the more or less comfortable ‘warmth’ of your blankets and make your way over to her.
she tenses, but for a moment, she doesn’t pull away. her silence feels like a monumental moment, a sign that she’s slowly starting to let her walls down. you sit like this, hidden by the darkness of the cabin and with none of the others awake, for a long moment. neither of you moves, neither of you even dares to breathe, afraid it’ll pass by as fast as it has come. then, she shrugs away from your grip and mutters: “i’m fine”. she’s not, obviously. but you take it as a small victory. you’ve felt the way she relaxed under your hold, the way she didn’t immediately push you away.
as weeks pass, you notice shauna becoming less and less guarded in your presence. she’s still wary, still sharp, but you can sense the small shifts, a quiet murmur here, a shared look there, that suggest she’s warming up to having you close.
maybe that night is what’s to blame, or maybe she’s genuinely beginning to realize how much she craves the warmth of another person. your warmth.
it’s one of these days where she’s angrily scribbling down words into her journal when shauna reaches a first ‘breaking point’. she’s sitting beside you in silence, the weight of the wilderness and the day pressing down on both of you. the only noise is the angry scrape of her pencil against paper. in a rare moment of boldness, you reach out, brushing a strand of her hair back from her face.
you’re not sure why you do it. but shauna seems so far away from everything, so detached from the reality you live in, that you just want to offer her something grounding.
her first reaction is to freeze, her eyes widening with a flicker of surprise, and you nearly pull your hand away, wondering if you’ve overstepped. but instead, shauna lets out a breath and holds still, allowing you to tuck the strand behind her ear. as your fingers brush her cheek, you can feel her breath catch, her defenses lowering just a little. it’s a brief, fragile moment, but one that feels much bigger to you: an unspoken acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, she’ll allow more of this.
that’s when things begin to change: shauna starts looking for you after difficult moments, lingering by your side in ways that tell you she needs someone, even if she won’t say it; too stubborn to ever admit it out loud. she lets you take her hand quietly, her thumb rubbing yours a wordless promise that, just for a while, she’ll let you be her safe place.
it becomes routine for you and shauna to disappear to some quiet spot when the cabin feels too heavy. no one has figured you out yet, although you’re sure that they can put two and two together by now: tai has caught your eye, the last time you sneaked off together and lottie has long claimed that the wilderness has its fucked up ways of communicating with her. whether any of it is true or not, something about the glances she shoots in your direction tells you that she knows. that she might even appreciate it, though that could just be because she won’t be the outlet for shauna’s anger anymore.
after a particularly tense exchange with the others, she brushes past you, muttering, “let’s go.” you follow her immediately, of course, and the two of you wind through the forest until you reach the plane’s wreckage. inside, it’s silent and dim, a place that’s somehow managed to become a safe haven. the last reminder of civilization, somewhere far far away from you.
shauna lets herself lean back against the metal frame, shoulders dropping in relief, her usual guarded expression softening as you sit close beside her.
she doesn’t say anything, but her hand finds yours, squeezing it tightly, as if she’s grounding herself in your presence. then, in a rare show of vulnerability, she leans her head on your shoulder, her eyes closing as she lets out a shaky sigh. you wrap an arm around her, pull her closer, and let her melt into you, feeling her tension slowly give way as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.
together, you stay like that for hours, just holding each other. shauna curls into your arms, letting herself fully relax in the quiet. you actually dare to cradle her head and press gentle kisses to her forehead, feeling her melt into your embrace, and trusting you in a way she hasn’t trusted anyone else in a long, long time.
“you’re…you’re way too soft for this place, you know that?” you hear her whispering. she doesn’t stop you, though.
when it’s time to return, shauna doesn’t say a word but gives you a look that says it all: gratitude, trust, and something almost like relief.
even when you’re not together, shauna’s glances toward you become longer, her eyes lingering with something that remains unspoken, as if she’s trying to understand this newfound feeling.
around the others, she is still hesitant to be openly affectionate. in the cabin, it is only late at night, when it’s just the two of you, that she lets herself fall into your arms. It’s the only time she allows herself to be unguarded, clinging to you silently as if afraid you’ll vanish too if she lets go.
that same night, you catch a quiet confession under her ragged breath. she’s facing the other way, letting you spoon her from behind. only this way, does she dare to open up about how everything seems to slip away from her. she’s scared but hides it behind anger and frustration. you’re the first person allowed to see her tears.
you can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through. all the things she’s been robbed of: girlhood, like all of you. even if you’re ever rescued (which seems less likely with every day that passes) how are you supposed to move on? how are you supposed to live, like none of this ever happened? her best friend, who no one dares to talk about anymore, afraid it’ll bring back the things you’ve done. it’s like she was never here at all which, you think, must be even worse. motherhood, too, though she never even wanted it. no one seems to acknowledge that, out of everyone out here, she might just be the one to have lost everything to the wilderness.
in an attempt to comfort her, you trace mindless shapes against the back of her hand, slowly soothing her back to sleep. the letters of her name, a loopy S, gliding across her scarred knuckles with a tenderness so contrary to everything these hands have done. your own name, next. you hear a gentle chuckle coming from shauna. she knows what you’re doing, of course. you don’t stop.
the outline of wiskayok, as you remember from the map. she doesn’t seem to recognize this one, a little crease between her brows. “home” you tell her quietly and the crease vanishes.
it feels surreal that, somewhere out there, home is still a place. that wiskayok still exists to the people, to your families, your classmates, and everyone else back there. that it’s more than just a fading memory.
“you suck at drawing” she finally manages. it’s the first time you can hear the glimpse of amusement in her voice.
“what? you think you’re any better?” you whisper quietly, wanting it to last.
shauna shifts beside you, and takes your hand with a gentleness you didn’t think she possessed still.
now it’s your turn to lay back and feel. she starts with words. “yellowjackets” she spells out. a small smile flashes over your features as shauna studies your face attentively. then, though it’s harder to make out, she traces the word: “champions”. your heart feels heavy with everything that could’ve been.
shapes are next: a tiny heart, resembling the shape of jackie's necklace, then a simple circle.
"that's a soccer ball" she whispers expertly. for the first time, you laugh. it only lasts a short moment before you remember where you are, and that the others are trying to sleep just a couple of meters from you.
you fall asleep with her hand in your own, as both of your eyes grow too tired and you drift off together.
other nights, when she’s fast asleep and -for once- doesn’t seem haunted by nightmares, you find yourself watching over her. it’s the only time you get to see her the way she’d once been: when her features aren’t tense or pained, but relaxed. when she’s the girl you met at the very first soccer practice years ago, who hasn’t known any of the things that’ll happen to her in this lifetime. you stay up all night, only realizing how much time has passed when light starts spilling into the cabin and she stirs up.
you know shauna hates being pitied. so while you do feel for her, instead of asking if she’s okay, you just stay close, offering your warmth and presence. when shauna’s frustration bubbles over, she lets herself scream or cry in your arms, knowing you won’t turn her away. you hold her tightly all through the waves of emotions, murmuring quiet reassurances, and she clings to you, even as she struggles to accept that someone genuinely cares.
“everyone else… they don’t understand. they couldn’t. but you-“ she murmurs softly. “you’re the only one who sees me. the only one who wants to.”
shauna begins to show subtle signs of protectiveness over you, too: always looking out for you and offering the little comforts she can manage. even though her gestures are often quieter than yours, and less obvious, she's found her own way of showing she’s come to care for you, and that she’s willing to fight for you as much as you’re willing to be there for her out there!! <3
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maleyanderecafe · 28 days ago
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Isekai'd Into the Arms of a Yandere Duke (Visual Novel)
Created by: Yanny
Genre: Romance
It's too bad this visual novel is currently so short because it does have one of the things I think a lot of isekai stories in general is lacking, which is the idea that the characters are self aware that the world their in is fake. I'm catching up a bit on some of the older yanjam games I wanted to go through, which hopefully should be finished soon. If you are interested in this, please check them out at @yannysif.
The story is pretty simple, starting out with Morgan waking up on a bed in a strange place. They are immediately greeted by a Duke, someone that seems to be cosplaying, before recognizing who it is. Lucien (or Lucy) is one of the love interests in the otome game Morgan has been playing, Rosalind's Lie. We get into his tragic backstory, about how he had an older sister who passed away due to illness before he was born and how he was treated as a replacement for his older sister until he basically was neglected by his parents. Initially, Morgan believes that this is some sort of cosplay cafe they've gotten themselves into before Lucien starts to explain. It seems that Morgan fell into Lucien's arms (literally) due to a summoning circle, and this is when Morgan realizes that they've been isekaied. Lucien seems elated that he's finally meeting face to face with Morgan, with Morgan being creeped out, as he should have no idea who they are, even if they were isekaied. Lucien as a way to calm the player down explains that he does realize that he's in a game, realizing that things kept on repeating, was able to hear Morgan's voice gushing about him (much to their embarrassment). After hearing all this, Morgan ends up falling asleep, having to deal with so much so suddenly.
It's too bad that there's not a lot going on the demo since there are a lot of fun ways to go about this story. Though it does follow a general isekai story but I really do like the idea that Lucien is fully aware of the fact that he's in a game, especially after hearing Morgan fawn over him and the fact that he realizes that a lot of the things happening started to repeat itself. I think the only other isekai that I know of that did this was Concubine Walkthrough, which is also a very good isekai story. I also think the backstory of what we got for Lucien could lead to a lot of potential angst in the future as well, given it seems that he gets a bit of a sadder reaction when we respond with the name Lucy. Unfortunately, because of the length of this demo, we sadly don't get to see nearly enough yandere content going on. We mostly see Lucien admiring Morgan, seeing that at least in this world, they act as the god/goddess type of character, which does make me think that it's possible that Lucien becomes a worshipper type of yandere.
All in all, I hope that this game will upload more in the future. The concept of the game is very promising and I like the design of Lucien. There's a lot of possibility of what this game could entail, so I'm curious to see what will be in store for us.
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 year ago
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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em
hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it
warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......
a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye
“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 
He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 
“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 
“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 
The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 
You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 
“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 
Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 
“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 
Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 
“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 
And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 
The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  
You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  
It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 
---------------------------------------------------
The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  
He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 
“Can we talk?” 
You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 
“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 
“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"
“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 
The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 
Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 
“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 
“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 
His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 
“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 
“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 
He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  
“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 
“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 
“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  
You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 
“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 
You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 
After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 
“Are you still mad at me?” 
He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 
“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 
“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 
He chuckles. 
“At an entirely different university.” 
“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”
While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 
“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 
“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 
Spencer sighs. 
“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 
You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 
“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.
Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 
“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 
But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.
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