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surielstea · 2 days ago

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Dancing With Fate - III

Read part one and two first!

Pairing: Nyx x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Nyx and Reader are advancing in their relationship, now in the Day court where they can spend time together without fear of getting caught.

Warnings: A little heated kissing but this is just a fluff chapter!

A.Note: Guysss this little series is about to get so good and juicy I promise, also please vote on this poll for what you’d like to see in the next chapter!

Wordcount: 7.5k

The morning I was set to leave, Spring Court's estate felt suffocating. The weight of my father's expectations, the ever-watchful eyes of the sentries, the knowledge that I was slipping away not just for a visit—but for him—pressed down on me. I told myself it wasn't a lie. I was going to see Lucien. I was supposed to be there. But deep in my chest, the bond hummed, whispering truths I couldn't ignore.

I could still feel his lips on mine, the press of his hands at my waist, the quiet promise he had left me with before I winnowed away. Three days. It had felt like an eternity. Now that the time had come, I found myself glancing over my shoulder as I crossed the courtyard, my pulse quickening with every step toward the open lands of Spring.

My father had been surprisingly agreeable when I asked to visit Lucien—perhaps because I rarely asked for anything at all. Perhaps because it was easier for him to believe I sought an escape rather than suspect the truth. Either way, the approval had been granted after minor convincing.

I let out a slow breath, focusing on my destination as I prepared to winnow.

The air shimmered around me, and with a final glance at my home—if it could even be called that—I vanished.

The Day Court was a world of golden light and sprawling dunes, a kingdom carved from the sun itself. I landed on one of its marble pathways, the heat instantly settling over my skin like a second layer. White and gold towers stretched toward the sky, the brilliance of them nearly blinding.

Lucien was already waiting.

He leaned against one of the courtyard pillars, arms crossed, his red hair catching the sunlight in hues of copper and fire. He arched a brow the moment I appeared, pushing off the pillar with a lazy sort of grace.

"You're on time," he mused. "Did the skies part for a miracle, or are you actually excited to see me?"

I rolled my eyes, falling into step beside him as he led me toward the palace. "Don't flatter yourself, Lucien. I'm just desperate for decent company."

His chuckle was warm, genuine, but his sharp gaze flickered over me, assessing. Lucien always noticed more than he let on. "And here I thought Spring Court was finally growing on you."

I scoffed. "Like poison."

Lucien didn't argue. He simply guided me through the sunlit halls, the scent of citrus and sea breeze drifting through the open archways. But I could feel the words he wanted to say pressing against his tongue.

"Go on," I said finally. "Say whatever it is you're thinking before you combust."

He cast me a knowing glance. "You have a look about you."

I blinked. "A look?"

"A very particular look." He stopped in front of a set of golden doors, his expression unreadable. "The kind that usually means trouble."

I fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "You're imagining things."

"I've known you since you were six," Lucien huffed a quiet laugh, pushing the doors open. "But if you say so."

The throne room was empty when we stepped inside. Not that I expected anything different—Lucien had told me Helion would be absent for the week, handling an issue near the borders. It made my request easier, less complicated.

"How long will I be staying?" I asked, trailing a hand along the intricate carvings of the marble table.

"As long as you need," Lucien answered, his voice easy, but his gaze watchful. "But your father expects a week. Don't get any ideas."

I turned to him, weighing my words carefully. "You did say I could visit whenever I wanted."

"That, I did," he acknowledged. "But I also know you don't make casual trips anywhere. So either you've grown fond of me—" He smirked. "—or there's something else going on."

I hesitated, the bond thrumming softly in my chest. Nyx would be here soon. I could feel it, that gentle pull like a tide calling me home.

"I just need time," I said finally. "Time away from Spring. Time to breathe."

Lucien studied me, his expression softening just slightly. Then he nodded. "Then you'll have it."

Relief flooded through me, but before I could thank him, the air behind me stirred.

The scent of summer rain and star-kissed skies filled the room.

My breath caught.

Lucien's lips twitched, amusement flashing in his russet eye as he glanced past me. "Right. Now this all makes sense."

I turned, and there he was.

Nyx stood in the archway, clad in deep blue, his dark hair tousled by the wind. His sapphire eyes locked onto mine, something unreadable flickering within them.

A slow, lazy smirk curved his lips. "Miss me, princess?"

Lucien let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Cauldron boil me. You do have a look about you."

Nyx didn't hesitate as he crossed the room, moving with that effortless confidence that made it impossible to look away. Like the world had never given him a reason to doubt himself. Like he belonged here, with me.

The bond hummed softly in my chest as he stopped a few feet away, his gaze settling on Lucien with a quiet, knowing amusement.

Lucien, for his part, didn't seem surprised. He just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling a sharp look at me. "So. This is why you came."

I winced. "Lucien—"

He held up a hand. "Tell me the truth. How long has this been going on?"

I hesitated, stealing a glance at Nyx, who only smirked. Smug bastard. "It's...new."

Lucien arched a brow. "New?"

"Three days," Nyx supplied unhelpfully, rocking back on his heels. "Well, three days since she kissed me."

Lucien's eye twitched. I swatted Nyx's arm.

"Since we kissed," I corrected.

Lucien's gaze flicked between us, unimpressed. Then he exhaled heavily. "And your parents?"

My stomach twisted. I dropped my gaze, my fingers curling into the sleeves of Nyx's jacket. "None of them know."

Lucien let out a short, humorless laugh. "Gods, just like your parents. Just like them." He ran a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. "Why do both of your families insist on making my life difficult?"

"Lucien—" I started, guilt pressing into my ribs.

"I know, Fawn," he interrupted, shaking his head. "You're good. You're okay."

I exhaled, my shoulders loosening slightly. I hated using Lucien's kindness like this, but I needed this. I needed to be here, needed him.

Lucien gave me a long, considering look before sighing dramatically. "My wife will be thrilled that Nyx is visiting, so I suppose you can stay." He gave a look of acknowledgment to the heir of Night.

Nyx dipped his head in gratitude, but before he could respond, Lucien turned to him fully with a sharp, easy threat. "Though, if you hurt her, and I'll be sending armies to your doorstep."

I groaned. "Uncle—"

"Completely understood," Nyx said, ignoring my protests.

Lucien only huffed, then turned toward the open archway. "Come on, Your Highness, let's get you settled before I regret my entire existence."

Nyx winked at me before following, falling into step beside him as they led me through the sunlit halls.

—

Lucien's home within the Day Court was smaller than the palace itself but no less grand. The rooms were warm, decorated in golds and creams, with sweeping balconies that overlooked the distant dunes.

Lucien pushed open a set of doors, revealing a guest suite. "This is for her," he said pointedly, flicking his gaze to Nyx. "You, however, can take the room down the hall."

Nyx smirked. "Separate rooms? What do you take me for, Vanserra?"

Lucien gave him a deadpan stare. "Someone with a death wish."

I stepped inside before they could continue, rolling my eyes. "You two are worse than children."

Nyx only chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as I took in the space. It was lovely—soft linens, airy curtains, a private balcony that bathed the room in golden light, and a ginormous bathtub sunken into the floor like the room's very own indoor pool. All this for a guest?

I was going to tease Lucien about it but when I turned back, Nyx was watching me carefully.

"We don't have long," he murmured, the humor fading just slightly from his voice.

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress. "I know."

Lucien cleared his throat. "Right. That's my cue to leave." He shot me a look, something softer beneath his usual exasperation. "Get some rest, Fawn. Meet me for breakfast in the morning."

I nodded, and with one last warning glance at Nyx, he slipped out.

Silence settled.

Nyx didn't move from the door. He just looked at me, something unreadable in his expression.

Three days. Three days without him, and yet the pull between us was stronger than ever.

I let out a slow breath. "I missed you."

Nyx's smile was slow, knowing. He stepped closer, hands bracing on either side of the doorframe. "Yeah?"

My pulse fluttered. But I refused to look away. "Yeah."

Nyx hummed, gaze sweeping over me like he was committing me to memory.

"C'mere then." He gives me one of those signature smirks.

I let go of the grip I had on my dress as I approached him, suppressed smile on my face.

His eyes follow me, watching my every movement as I come closer but not making a move to cross the threshold of my bedroom.

I peer up at him through my lashes, blinking once, twice. Then, "I missed you too," He murmured, leaning down and sealing a gentle kiss to my aching lips.

I pulled away first, and immediately regretted it the moment his lips left mine.

But he moved away, and with a quiet, secretive grin, he murmured, "Come find me when you can't sleep."

And just like that, he was gone.

—

Sleep evaded me.

I had tried—tried curling into the soft sheets, tried counting my breaths, tried pretending the bond wasn't a tangible thing pulling me toward the other side of the hall. But it was no use. The awareness of him, of Nyx, was a whisper against my skin, a constant hum in my chest.

With a soft exhale, I pushed back the covers and slipped out of my room.

The halls were quiet, bathed in moonlight. The Day Court at night had a different kind of beauty—soft, glowing, endless. I made my way toward his room, heart hammering for reasons I wasn't ready to name.

Nyx must have sensed me before I even reached the door, because the moment I lifted my fist to knock, it swung open.

He stood there, leaning lazily against the frame, shirtless, like he had been waiting. His smirk was immediate. "Couldn't stay away, Princess?"

I rolled my eyes, brushing past him into the room and inviting myself in. "Don't flatter yourself."

His room was similar to mine, only slightly smaller, with the same open balcony letting in the cool night air. The scent of him—night-blooming jasmine, crisp wind, something uniquely Nyx—wrapped around me instantly.

I turned just as he shut the door, crossing his arms. "So, what's keeping you up? Me?" His grin was all arrogance.

I huffed. "The bond."

Nyx's eyes darkened slightly, but he still managed a chuckle. "I am the bond, sweetheart."

Heat bloomed in my chest, but I ignored it, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed with a casual grace. "We should talk about it."

Nyx arched a brow. "About how wildly in love with me you already are?"

I tossed a glare at him. He returned it with a laugh, his sapphire eyes somehow beckoning me closer. "Alright," he said, quieter this time. "Let's talk."

I swallowed, unsure where to begin. "Are we...accepting it while we're here?"

Nyx's expression turned thoughtful, something softer creeping into his gaze. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't want to rush you," he said, voice low, steady. "But I also don't want to pretend it's not there."

I nodded slowly. That was the problem. The bond was there, a silent, unyielding thing, urging us closer. Ignoring it felt unnatural. But accepting it—fully—was irreversible. And rejecting it, for some reason, was out of the question.

Nyx must have sensed my hesitation because his lips twitched. "You know," he mused, a grin on his lips that could only mean trouble, "Lucien and Elain's rooms are at the opposite end of the hall."

I blinked, confused. "And?"

He smirked. "So if there are any... aftereffects of us accepting the bond, they won't hear a thing."

Heat flooded my face. "Nyx."

He grinned. "Just saying, if you're worried about keeping them up—"

"Nyx." I smacked his arm, and he just laughed, catching my wrist with ease.

With a soft tug, he pulled me forward until I was standing between his legs. My breath hitched as he peered up at me, his grip warm, steady.

"You're overthinking it," he murmured.

I bit my lip tentatively. "It's a lot to think about."

His hands slid up my arms, slow and careful, like he was mapping out the places he could touch, where I would let him. "Then don't think," he whispered. "Just...stay."

I hesitated.

Then, finally, I let out a breath and climbed onto the bed beside him.

Nyx shifted easily, stretching out against the pillows, one arm behind his head as he watched me settle in. "See? Not so bad."

I rolled onto my side, facing him. "Don't get used to this."

"Too late," he said, grinning.

A comfortable silence stretched between us, the weight of the bond settling into something warm, something oddly familiar.

Then—

"What if we did accept it?" I asked softly, tracing patterns into the sheets with a fingertip.

Nyx was quiet for a moment. When I glanced up, his gaze had softened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

"I think," he murmured, reaching over to brush his knuckles against my cheek, "it would feel like this."

"Like what?"

His thumb skimmed the corner of my mouth, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper.

"Like something I don't ever want to stop."

A shiver ran through me, but I forced myself to scoff. "You're so dramatic."

He chuckled, his hand drifting away, but not before his fingers brushed against my wrist, lingering. "You love it."

I did. I really, really did.

Nyx was still watching me, his expression unreadable but utterly devastating. His fingers, still barely brushing against mine, curled slightly, testing.

I should have pulled away. Should have ignored the way the space between us felt unbearable, like a string stretched too tight, ready to snap.

Instead, I turned my hand over, letting our fingers fully intertwine.

Nyx inhaled sharply.

His other hand lifted, tracing the shape of my jaw before tilting my chin up ever so slightly. His touch was featherlight, like he was waiting for me to pull back, to stop this before it started.

I didn't. I couldn't.

His eyes darkened, and I barely had time to take a breath before his lips brushed against mine.

Soft, at first. A question. I answered by pressing closer, hand against his hard chest.

Nyx groaned, low in his throat, and then he was kissing me in earnest, his hand sliding to cup the back of my neck, pulling me flush against him.

Heat curled through me, my body igniting at the sheer rightness of it—of him. His lips moved against mine with slow, devastating precision, coaxing, deepening.

I gasped as his teeth grazed my lower lip, and he took the opportunity to press even closer, his tongue sweeping into my mouth in a way that had my fingers running up his nape and tangling in his hair, pulling, needing.

Nyx growled softly, his grip tightening, his body shifting so that I was beneath him now, the weight of him pressing into me in the most delicious way.

I should have stopped him. Should have reminded him that Lucien and Elain were likely eavesdropping, that this wasn't what we came here for.

But all I could do was gasp against his lips, drowning in him as he kissed me like he'd been waiting a lifetime to do so.

And maybe he had.

The tether between us hummed, alive, crackling like a storm ready to break. My entire body felt like it was on fire, burning for something I wasn't sure I was ready for—but gods, did I want it.

Nyx pulled away just enough to press his forehead against mine, his breaths ragged, uneven. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against mine. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

I didn't say anything.

Because I didn't want him to stop.

Instead, I tightened my grip in his hair and kissed him again.

Nyx practically purred, deepening the kiss instantly, his hands sliding down my sides, gripping my waist like he was trying to anchor himself. I whimpered as he tilted my head back, his lips tracing a path along my jaw, down my throat—

I shuddered. "Nyx—"

He froze, his breathing heavy. "Too much?"

I hesitated, my mind hazy, body thrumming, aching. I didn't want to stop, didn't want this night to end—but I knew if we kept going, if I let him keep kissing me like this, there would be no turning back.

Slowly, I nodded.

Nyx let out a shaky breath, then pressed a lingering kiss to my shoulder before rolling onto his back, dragging me with him. His arm curled around my waist, keeping me tucked against his side.

I pressed my face into his chest, inhaling deeply. His heart was racing.

"Sleep, Princess," he murmured against my hair, pressing a final kiss to my forehead.

I exhaled softly, my body still humming, my lips still tingling, my heart still pounding.

But as Nyx's warmth surrounded me, as his arms tightened slightly around me, I found that—for the first time all night—I was finally at peace.

And sleep came easily.

The warmth of the Day Court sun streamed in through the open balcony doors, golden light spilling over the plush bedding and dancing across the smooth marble floors. A gentle breeze carried the scent of citrus and wildflowers, and the distant sound of birdsong filled the air—soft, melodic, impossibly peaceful.

I stretched beneath the silk sheets, the remnants of sleep clinging to my limbs. Nyx's steady breathing was warm against my neck, his arm a heavy weight draped over my waist. The bond hummed between us, quiet, content.

Carefully, I slipped from his grasp, his fingers twitching slightly in protest but aside from that he didn't stir.

I smiled to myself, watching as he burrowed further into the pillows that likely smelled of me, the golden light turning his midnight-dark hair almost copper in the morning glow.

For a male who spent so much time under the stars, he certainly slept through the hours of night like a log.

Shaking my head fondly, I padded across the room, stepping out into the hallway and making my way back to my own quarters across the hall.

The Day Court truly was beautiful in the morning—the soft glow of the sun filtering through sheer golden curtains, the air crisp and warm all at once. By the time I reached my room, I was fully awake, the peaceful hum of the court settling over me like a second skin.

I dressed in a white silk gown, the fabric flowing like liquid over my frame, cinched at the waist with a delicate golden belt. My jewelry was plentiful—thin, glimmering chains draped over my collarbones, golden cuffs sliding up my arms, rings adorning my fingers.

I had just finished fastening the final piece of jewelry when the door behind me creaked open.

I caught his reflection in the mirror before he could even enter.

Nyx stood in the doorway, his hair an absolute mess, his eyes heavy with sleep. He hadn't bothered with a shirt, his bare chest golden in the sunlight, the tattooed whorls of the night sky on his skin dark against the warm glow. He was beautiful—in that utterly devastating, ruinous kind of way.

He said nothing as he crossed the room, his steps slow, languid, his body still half-asleep.

Then his arms were sliding around my shoulders, his bare chest pressing against my back, his face tucking into the crook of my neck. His lips brushed against my skin—soft, lingering.

"Come back to bed," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

I smiled, meeting his gaze in the mirror as he sighed against my skin. "You are such a night owl."

One of his hands trailed up my arm, fingers ghosting over the golden cuffs there. "That's because I am Night," he grumbled. "It's unnatural for me to be awake this early."

I huffed a quiet laugh, reaching up to lace my fingers with his where they rested on my shoulder. "And yet, you're awake."

"I wouldn't be if you hadn't abandoned me." His lips brushed over my throat again, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I have breakfast with Lucien," I reminded him, though the words were already losing their strength.

Nyx hummed, as if considering coercing me out of that particular plan. His grip tightened slightly, his fingers curling around my waist as he exhaled against my skin. "Or," he suggested, his voice a low murmur, "you could stay."

I turned in his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to murmur, "I'll be back soon."

Nyx sighed, dramatically, his hands tracing slow circles along my back. "You're cruel," he muttered.

I grinned, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You'll live."

"Debatable."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could move, he kissed me again—slow, lazy, lingering. By the time he pulled away, I had half a mind to actually abandon breakfast.

But I forced myself to step back, smoothing my gown as I gave him a knowing look. "Go back to sleep, Night Prince."

Nyx smirked, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that was far too awake for someone who had been dead to the world only minutes ago. "You'll come find me after?"

I nodded. "I'll come find you after."

Seemingly satisfied, he took a slow step backward, his lips twitching. "Enjoy breakfast, princess," he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't miss me too much."

I barely resisted the urge to throw a pillow at him as I slipped out the door.

The Day Court's dining terrace overlooked a sprawling garden, the morning sunlight painting the marble floors in warm golds and soft whites. A faint citrus breeze carried through the open-air space, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread, honeyed fruit, and roasted coffee.

Lucien was already seated at the table, a cup of tea in one hand, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

"Good morning, Fawn," he greeted, setting his cup down as I slid into the chair across from him.

I sighed, reaching for a slice of peach from the array of food laid before us. "I knew I should have stayed in bed."

Lucien chuckled, reaching for his own plate. "You wound me. I would have thought you'd missed me."

"I did," I admitted, which earned me a pleased look. "But I also knew that my first morning here would be spent with you poking at me like a bored hound with a bone."

Lucien hummed, popping a grape into his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest. "You make it sound so terrible."

I gave him a dry look. "You live for gossip."

"And you have been supplying me with an endless amount of it," he countered, flashing a sharp grin. "You and the heir to the Night Court, sneaking around behind your father's back?" He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Do you know how much restraint it takes for me not to send a letter to Tamlin about this?"

I nearly choked on my tea. "You wouldn't."

Lucien's russet eye twinkled with mischief. "Wouldn't I?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, but there was no real threat in my stare. He was teasing—mostly. "You wouldn't because I'm your favorite."

Lucien let out a bark of laughter. "You think that's enough to keep me quiet?"

I plucked a croissant from the basket, tearing off a piece with deliberate slowness. "I also brought Nyx with me, which means Elain is getting a visit from her favorite nephew," I said sweetly. "And I doubt she'd be pleased if his visit was cut short by some ill-timed news reaching Spring."

Lucien raised a brow, amused. "Using my wife against me? Low blow."

"You leave me no choice."

He chuckled, shaking his head before taking a sip of his tea. "Fine, your secret is safe with me. For now."

I exhaled in relief, but he wasn't done.

"So," he continued, smirking, "do you always sneak into his bed, or was last night a special occasion?"

I set my croissant down with exaggerated care. "You are insufferable."

Lucien grinned, positively delighted. "Oh, come now. I'm merely curious."

I sighed, shaking my head. "And here I thought you wanted to talk about Spring."

Lucien's expression didn't shift, but I saw the flicker of something—wariness, perhaps, or exhaustion—pass through his russet eye before he settled back into that smooth, unbothered demeanor.

"You want to talk about Spring?" he mused, sipping at his tea. "Now that's a first."

I hesitated, fingers toying with the edge of my napkin. "It's been... stable?"

Lucien huffed a quiet laugh. "Stable is one word for it."

I lifted a brow, silently urging him to continue.

He sighed, swirling his tea in his cup. "Your father is as he always is. Withdrawn. Distrustful. Trying to mend what little he has left, though his attempts have been... half-hearted, at best." A pause, then a softer, "He does love you, you know. Don't take that for granted."

I looked down at my plate, a strange weight pressing against my ribs. "I know, I try not to. I love him too."

Lucien sighed, setting his cup down. "Well, that was depressing."

I let out a weak laugh, grateful for the shift in subject. "You brought it up."

"Yes, but now I regret it," he muttered before shooting me a sidelong glance, that familiar smirk returning. "Luckily, we have a much juicier topic to discuss."

I groaned. "Lucien—"

He ignored my warning tone, lips twitching. "How was sleeping with the Night Court's heir?"

"I hate you."

"Did you snuggle?" He grinned. "You did, didn't you?"

I picked up my spoon, debating throwing it at his head.

Lucien laughed, positively beaming. "Oh, this is delightful."

"You are the worst."

"I am," he agreed, unbothered. "But I'm also right."

I sighed, shaking my head. "I am never telling you anything ever again."

Lucien simply smiled, far too pleased with himself.

And somehow, despite his relentless teasing, breakfast was... nice. Easy, even.

Lucien had always been that way—quick-witted, sharp-tongued, but warm beneath it all. And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to enjoy that warmth, even as he smirked knowingly over the rim of his tea cup.

The soft pad of footsteps against marble had me glancing up just as Elain entered the terrace, sunlight catching in the golden waves of her hair. She was radiant in the morning glow, dressed in a pale yellow gown that complemented the warmth of her brown eyes.

Lucien's teasing stopped instantly.

His gaze softened, his entire being seeming to realign as he turned toward his mate. The smug amusement he had wielded so effortlessly moments ago melted into something quieter, something devotional, as if Elain were the only thing in existence.

"Good morning, my love," Lucien greeted, rising smoothly to pull out a chair for her.

Elain smiled at him, a soft, knowing thing, before placing a kiss on his cheek and settling into her seat. "Good morning," she replied before glancing at me, her expression warm. "I'm so happy you're here."

I smiled back, genuinely. "I'm happy to be here."

She took a sip of tea before asking, "What do you have planned for today?"

I glanced at Lucien, who was too busy staring at his mate to contribute to the conversation, then looked back at Elain with an amused huff. "That depends on what there is to do in the Day Court."

Elain brightened. "Oh, there's so much. The markets are always lovely in the mornings, and later today there will be a performance in the amphitheater—music, dance, sometimes storytelling, depending on the day. We could also visit the gardens."

At that, Lucien seemed to shake himself from his daze just long enough to say, "She loves the gardens."

Elain laughed softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "I do."

The moment their hands touched, Lucien's thumb traced small circles over her knuckles, his russet eye drinking her in as if he hadn't seen her in ages, as if she were the only thing tethering him to this world.

I looked away, feeling like an intruder on something sacred.

Instead, I focused on my tea, swirling it in my cup before Elain's next words had me stiffening.

"And what about you?" she asked gently. "What do you have planned with Nyx?"

Lucien tensed beside her at the mention of his nephew but, surprisingly, didn't interrupt.

I hesitated before answering. "I... don't know yet."

Elain tilted her head slightly, studying me. "You two seem happy."

A small, shy smile tugged at my lips despite myself. "It's... new."

Her expression softened. "New can be wonderful."

I glanced at Lucien then, at the way his entire world seemed to orbit Elain, at the ease with which they simply existed together.

They had a love that was constant, unshaken. One that didn't need to be loud or demanding, because it was felt—in the way Lucien always reached for Elain without thinking, in the way she always seemed to understand him without words.

I wanted that.

I wanted something sure. Something safe. Something like them.

Elain must have seen something in my expression, because she reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "You'll find your way," she assured me, voice as soft as the morning light.

I swallowed, nodding. "I hope so."

Breakfast ended not long after, Lucien and Elain caught in their own little world as I excused myself.

I walked back to my room slowly, heart and mind tangled in thoughts of what I wanted—of him.

And of whether or not we would ever have something like the love I had just witnessed.

I pushed open the door to my room, the silk of my gown whispering against the marble floor as I stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was the mess of dark hair sprawled across my pillows, the sheets tangled around long limbs and bare skin.

Nyx had crawled into bed. My bed.

I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "You do know you have your own room, right?"

A low, sleepy groan rumbled from the depths of my blankets, his face still buried in my pillow. "Too far," he mumbled.

I snorted. "It's across the hall."

"Exactly," he sighed dramatically, cracking one sleepy eye open. His voice was heavy with drowsiness, warm and lazy in a way that made something in my chest tighten. "Besides, your bed smells better."

I raised a brow. "That's not a compliment if you're just stealing."

He grinned, stretching like a cat before reaching a hand out for me. "Come here."

"Absolutely not."

His lips tilted into something smug. "Oh?"

"Nyx, it's nearly noon."

"So?" He patted the space beside him. "Come lay down."

I laughed, shaking my head as I stepped closer to the bed. "You are so lazy."

"Excuse me," he feigned offense, propping himself up on an elbow, hair a tousled mess. "I am strategic in my rest."

I huffed, sitting on the edge of the bed, but the moment I did, he was moving—strong arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me down beside him.

"Nyx!" I yelped, but he only laughed, tucking his face into the crook of my neck.

"There we go," he murmured, his lips pressing against my skin in a way that was entirely unfair. "Much better."

I sighed, pretending to be put out even as I melted into the warmth of him. "You are impossible."

"You love it."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my jaw. The argument died in my throat.

"You look beautiful," he murmured against my skin, his voice still thick with sleep. "Does every court suit you? Or are you just naturally perfect?"

A rush of heat curled in my chest. "Flattery will not get you out of trouble."

He hummed, brushing his nose along my cheek before stealing a kiss from my lips. "Five minutes," he mused, brushing another kiss over the corner of my mouth. "Just five and then we can get up."

"Fine. Five minutes." I lean into him, melting into the warmth that was his skin.

He kissed me again, slower this time as if savoring the remnants of whatever sweetness still lingered. "Lucien didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

I huffed a laugh, playing with the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. "Lucien is always a menace."

Nyx chuckled, his breath warm against my lips. "I bet he was insufferable."

"He was fine," I admitted, tracing a lazy pattern against his bare shoulder. "Elain joined us."

He tilted his head, brows lifting slightly. "Oh?"

I nodded. "She asked about you."

His lips curled. "And what did you say?"

"That you are insufferable, whiny, and prone to excessive dramatics."

Nyx gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Whiny?"

I grinned. "You are."

He narrowed his eyes playfully. "So harsh, princess."

I laughed, but the sound faded as he brushed his fingers over my cheek, his expression softening. "Did you sleep well?"

I hesitated before nodding. "I did."

"Good." He kissed me again, slow and sweet, his thumb brushing against my jaw. "I like waking up with you—even though you left me before I could."

Something inside me melted at the confession, at the sincerity in his voice.

I bit my lip, trying to fight back a smile. "You're so soft when you're sleepy."

He groaned, flopping onto his back. "And the moment is ruined."

I laughed, rolling onto my side to look down at him. "Come on, Nyx. Admit it."

His arm flung over his eyes. "Never."

I grinned, leaning down to press a teasing kiss against his jaw. "I like it."

His breath hitched slightly, but his arms wound around me again, pulling me closer.

And as I settled into the warmth of him, into the safety of his embrace, I realized—this, whatever we were becoming, whatever this bond between us was shaping into—felt new and foreign.

But gods, it was lovely.

After fifteen minutes Nyx still had me caged against him, his arms wrapped securely around my waist as if he had no intention of letting me leave. Every time I so much as shifted, his grip tightened, and a pleased hum rumbled in his throat.

"Nyx," I warned, pressing my hands against his bare chest, though my voice lacked any real heat.

"Mmm," he murmured lazily, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, his lips ghosting over my skin. "Five more minutes."

I huffed, though the way my body betrayed me—melting into his warmth, my fingers tracing the lines of his shoulders—was not helping my case. "You said that fifteen minutes ago."

"I don't recall."

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "You're impossible."

He lifted his head slightly, his messy dark hair falling into his sleepy eyes. "And yet, you're still here."

I scowled at him, but it was utterly ineffective given the way my face was burning.

His grin widened. "You like this."

"No, I don't."

Nyx hummed, unconvinced. "Sure you don't." Then, as if to prove his point, he kissed me—slow and indulgent, his lips warm and sure against mine. My breath caught, my fingers tightening against his skin.

His hands roamed lazily, tracing along my waist, my back, settling just beneath the curve of my ribs. "You're so soft," he mused between kisses, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness. "So warm."

I glared at him, my face burning. "You're so full of yourself."

His chuckle was dark and teasing. "Only because you make it so easy, Princess."

I groaned, flopping onto my back as he propped himself up on an elbow, hovering over me with a stupidly satisfied expression. "You are so lucky left my daggers in Spring."

Nyx only grinned, dipping down to nip at my jaw, his voice warm with amusement. "I'd like to see you try."

I shoved at his shoulder, but he barely budged. His weight was solid and steady against me, and I knew—knew—that I could have pushed him away if I wanted to. But I didn't.

Nyx's fingers skimmed along my arm, down to my wrist, to where he laced our fingers together. "Are you going to stay here with me?"

"I have things to do, you know."

"Like what?" He raised a brow, his nose brushing against mine. "Surely nothing more interesting than me."

I snorted. "You'd be surprised."

He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Now that is just cruel."

I rolled my eyes, lifting a hand to comb through his messy hair, smoothing it back. His eyes fluttered shut at the touch, and my heart did something ridiculous in my chest.

I swallowed, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone. "You're so clingy."

His eyes opened, a lazy smirk curling his lips. "And you love it."

I huffed, but my lips twitched despite myself. "Maybe a little."

Nyx's expression softened, his fingers brushing my cheek as he leaned in. "Good."

His mouth pressed against mine again, stealing whatever breath I had left. My heart raced, my fingers fisting in the fabric of the sheets as his hand traced down, over the silk of my gown, teasing along my thigh. His touch burned—not in a way that made me want to pull away, but in a way that made me want more.

And that should have terrified me. It didn't.

It only made me want to hold onto him tighter, to let myself fall.

I exhaled shakily when he finally pulled away, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth. He was still watching me, waiting.

And gods, I knew. I knew.

The mating bond shimmered between us, pulsing, undeniable. I could feel it, pulling me closer to him with every breath, every heartbeat.

I wanted it.

Screw that our parents didn't know. Screw that this would be irreversible. That once we accepted it, there was no undoing it, no way for them to separate us even if they tried.

I wanted this. I wanted him.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid of what that meant.

"Nyx?"

"Princess?" he drawled, his voice thick with warmth, teasing as he brushed his fingers over my wrist.

I hesitated for a moment before saying, "Can you teach me how to block you out of my head?"

Nyx's lips twitched. "You mean my Daemati powers?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He hummed in thought, tilting his head. "Of course. Though, why the sudden interest?"

I kept my expression carefully neutral, knowing full well he'd see right through me if I wasn't careful. "Just seems like a good skill to have."

Nyx studied me for a long moment before his lips curved in amusement. "You're a terrible liar."

I scowled. "Am not."

He laughed, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Alright, alright. Come here."

I let him shift us so I was sitting cross-legged in front of him, his hands resting lightly on my knees. His gaze softened, the usual teasing glint dimming just slightly as he said, "I want you to imagine a wall in your mind. Something strong. Something unbreakable."

"A wall," I repeated, frowning.

"Yes. Picture it. And then focus on reinforcing it. Make it thick, make it impenetrable." His thumb traced circles against my knee as he watched me carefully.

I closed my eyes, inhaling slowly as I tried to summon that wall.

"Good," he murmured. "Now, I'm going to push just a little—try not to let me in."

I gritted my teeth as I felt the gentle probing at the edges of my mind. It was strange—like a featherlight touch, testing the defenses I'd barely managed to put up.

"Your wall is shaky," Nyx noted, the laughter in his voice evident. "I could break through it in an instant."

I cracked an eye open to glare at him. "You're so encouraging."

He grinned. "I'm just being honest."

I huffed, closing my eyes again and focusing, really focusing, on that barrier. I imagined thick, towering walls, impenetrable and unwavering. I strengthened them, bracing them against his presence.

Nyx hummed in approval. "Better."

A moment passed.

Then another.

And then—

"Huh," he muttered.

I opened my eyes to find him blinking at me, mildly impressed. "What?"

"You actually did it." He tapped his temple. "Can't hear a thing."

I grinned, triumphant. "Told you I could do it."

Nyx chuckled, his hands sliding up to my waist as he pulled me toward him. "I could still break it." He makes clear. "But now I can't hear em' unless I want to."

I smiled softly, "Good enough for me."

Then he kissed me.

Slow and deep, as if savoring the taste of victory along with me. His hands traced up my spine, his touch warm and steady as he pressed me closer. I melted into him, tilting my head to give him better access as his lips moved against mine with aching patience.

It was a reward, and I greedily took it.

When we finally parted, his lips trailed down my jaw, over the sensitive skin of my neck. "I should teach you things more often," he murmured against my skin, the words sending a shiver down my spine.

I swatted at his shoulder, but it was weak at best. "Behave."

He laughed, the sound muffled against my throat as he kissed a slow path back up to my mouth. "Not a chance."

I sighed, allowing myself to collapse onto the mattress, tugging him down with me. Nyx followed willingly, draping himself over me as if he had no intention of moving anytime soon.

"So," he mused, his lips brushing my shoulder, my collarbone, my jaw. "What do you want to do today?"

We eventually collapsed back onto the bed, tangled together. His hands roamed lazily, his lips finding every inch of bare skin he could reach. Between kisses, we murmured about what we could do today—halfheartedly listing off places we knew we wouldn't go, tasks we knew we wouldn't complete.

"We could go for a ride?" I suggested idly.

Nyx hummed, lips brushing my collarbone. "Mmm, sounds nice." His fingers traced circles on my hip. "Or we could stay right here."

"Lazy," I teased, though I had no intention of moving either.

He nipped at my shoulder in retaliation, making me squeak. "Not lazy," he corrected. "Just—" He kissed the corner of my mouth. "Comfortable." Another kiss on my cheek. "Perfectly, completely comfortable."

My heart thudded, my fingers tightening around his bicep. I could still feel the bond shimmering between us, waiting.

Waiting for me. Because he seemed to have already decided that accepting it was his only choice, the only one he'd acknowledge at least.

Nyx pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his expression soft, but unreadable. "What?" he murmured.

I swallowed hard, smoothing my hand over his chest. "Nothing," I whispered.

Not yet.

He searched my face, but I knew he wouldn't find anything—not now. Because I had learned how to block him out. Because the next time I opened my mind to him, it would be on my terms. A choice. A gift.

Nyx pressed one last kiss to my lips before sighing, letting his head drop against the pillow. I curled into his warmth, letting my eyes drift shut, a secret burning in my chest.

The next time I let him in would be when I was ready to accept the bond. And I wanted it to be somewhat of a surprise.

Which meant he had to stay out of my mind—just for a few days. Just long enough for me to do what I had already decided.

What I knew I wanted.

I glanced at him then, at the male who had stolen my heart in the span of a few weeks, at the way he watched me with that easy, knowing smirk—completely unaware of what was coming.

A slow smile curled on my lips.

What I wanted.

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munsonsmixtapes · 22 hours ago

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hi! i have a jayvik prompt for your consideration, with jayvik finding it difficult to concentrate in the lab while you are there, and keep making mistakes because of it. can be as spicy or sfw as you like ofc

This is the first fic I've written about Arcane so please be gentle with me!

cw: allusions to smut

You know how difficult it is for Jayce and Viktor to focus when you’re in the lab. You only end up there because you love to hang out with them and maybe you’re trying to get them to admit that they’re interested in you. You’ve been conducting an experiment of your own, to see how long it will take them to finally make their feelings known, but it seems that wearing low-cut tops and short skirts had only just made them drool instead of making a move.

Viktor at least compliments you while Jayce just gets flustered when you get close. His cheeks turning bright pink as you shamelessly flirt with him as you back him up to the desk. You love making pretty men stutter. He wants you so bad, always staring at your lips when you talk to him. It’s pathetic but he doesn’t care. You actually find it to be adorable.

Viktor is very upfront about his feelings, though, making it very clear that he wants you. He’ll lean on you when he doesn’t feel like using his cane and he loves that you will hold onto him, letting him lean his head on your shoulder.

And while Jayce does feel a little jealous, seeing you together ultimately just sends him into a bi panic. He loves watching the way your hand slides up and down Viktor’s back as he writes on the chalkboard and the way you’ll help Viktor sit on the desk when he gets tired then stand between his legs as he pulls you into his arms. How can he even be upset when the two of you look so good together?

Today, though, you’re sitting on Jayce’s desk when he comes into the lab, kicking your legs back and forth as you eat the sandwich he had left there for you this morning. Your face lights up when you see him, finishing your last bite as you motion for him to come closer, holding your arms.

“Hey, handsome,” you greet as your arms wrap around his shoulders, his wrapping around your waist, his face burying into your neck just like always. This is his favorite moment of every day that he sees you, he thinks, being wrapped up in your touch as you hold him for however long he wants.

This is going to be a long hug. He’s been struggling with one of his Hextech inventions and just needs your reassurance to be able to fix it. You’re always so encouraging and he feels like he needs that to today.

Once he reluctantly pulls away, he sits in his chair, having to turn away because he can see up your skirt and he knows that he shouldn’t be looking. He just turns every so slightly, picking up his screwdriver to work on one of the weapons he’s created, trying his hardest to not think about how badly he wants to bury his face between your legs and eat you out until you’re crying his name.

Viktor can’t focus either having dropped his pencil more times than he can count as he’s been trying to work on a sketch of one of the newer projects. You just look so beautiful and he can’t focus, his eyes staying on your lips as you flirt with Jayce, leaning over ever so slightly, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage that he stares at for a few seconds before snapping out of it.

It’s getting sad, you think, so you’ve finally got to do something about this whole thing, finally make a move on both of them. You love the longing looks, but this is just getting pathetic at this point. So you turn Jayce to face you and hold his face gently in your hands, pressing your lips to his. He gasps into your mouth but quickly melts into you, pliant under your touch, willing to let you do whatever you want to him. He’s putty in your hands.

Viktor is becoming concerned with how much he’s enjoying watching the two of you kiss, concerned with the fact that he’s getting hard. He’s always been attracted to the two of you separately, but seeing you together is making him want you even more, desperately wishing he could be part of it.

Your hands slide into his hair and he’s moaning into your mouth as his hands slide up your thighs as your place a foot on each side of his chair. He’s trying to pull you into his lap when you pull away, watching his eyes fill with lust. He lets out a whine as you hop off the desk and you just shake your head at him.

“There’s no need to be greedy, baby,” you tsk. “Viktor needs a turn.”

Viktor turns around fully and his eyes widen as you lean down over him, kissing him more hungrily than you had kissed Jayce and he’s eating it up, whining as your tongue slides into his mouth, roaming around as you put something in between his shirt and vest. You give it a pat then pull away, smiling down at him, seeing his parted lips as he stares up at you, his eyes filling with lust just like Jayce’s.

You motion for both of them to come closer with your pointer finger and they’re quick to stand, Viktor moving slower as he has to reach his cane. You’re moving to the door and they’re both following you like lost puppies, desperate for more of whatever you just gave them.

“Viktor has a key to my apartment where I’ll be waiting for the two of you after you’re done here. I think we all could have some fun together considering the chemistry we all have. If you don’t come, I completely understand, but I’d really like for you too.”

“I’ll be there,” they both say in unison, so quickly that you barely understand them, but your face lights up at their agreement.

“Perfect!” You respond then press kisses to each of their mouths before fleeing the lab, leaving Jayce and Viktor, neither of them wanting to discuss the fact that this is going to turn their friendship into something vastly different and it will never be the same. Neither of them care, though, looking forward to spending the night with you and each other, counting down the hours until they’re done with their work.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #viktor #viktor x reader #viktor x fem!reader #viktor x y/n #viktor x you #jayce talis #jayce talis x reader #jayce talis x y/n #jayce talis x you #jacy talis x fem!reader #jayvik #jayvik x reader #jayvik x fem!reader #jayvik x you #jayvik x y/n

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bookshelf-in-progress · 1 day ago

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A Father's Heart: A Beauty and the Beast Retelling

For the Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge at @inklings-challenge

Let me tell you, I sure confused that Beast when I returned. Have you ever seen a cat pounce on its own tail? That was the look of confusion the Beast had when he saw me in his palace. Only this cat was enormous—standing seven feet tall on his hind legs—black as soot, with claws this long, and a mouth full of teeth like butcher knives.

"Where is your daughter?" he asked me. Yes, that's what he sounded like—all deep and raspy, like he was growling and purring beneath his words.

"At home," I said.

"You did not bring her?"

“You told me,” I told him, "that I could return to be devoured or send her to take my place. I returned.”

"She did not wish to save you?"

“I never told her. Do you think I could lay that kind of burden upon my own daughter? What sort of father do you take me for?”

He had taken me for a cowardly one, I guess, because it took me a long time to convince him that my daughters were all safely at home, and I didn't plan to fetch any of them. He didn't seem to know what to do with me after that. He wasn't as bloodthirsty as I'd have expected someone with that many teeth to be.

"You will be my guest," he said at last—and he didn't seem too glad about saying it. No doubt he'd have preferred a pretty young girl as a houseguest to a weathered old sailor. But he gave me run of the place—I could help myself to anything, go anywhere I pleased. I didn't understand it. He'd been ready to kill me for a rose, and now he was giving me everything in the house?

I wasn't about to complain, though, so I set about to enjoy the place. The Beast encouraged me to enjoy the luxuries of the palace, but I've always been a working man—I didn't fancy living the life of an idle aristocrat. Before the week was out, I was working in the gardens—the place was overgrown like you wouldn't believe. When I wanted a rest, I'd explore the castle, and boy, was there plenty to see. He had rooms upon rooms of treasures—paintings, silks, wines, musical instruments, even an entire room full of exotic birds! I'd made my living selling such things, and my head swam at the sight of it—a tenth of it would have been worth more than all the riches I could have transported in ten lifetimes.

I didn't make my fortune by having dull wits, and I didn't lose it for lack of courage, so it wasn't long before I began to piece together the truth of this place and confronted the Beast with it.

"How long have you been cursed, your highness?" I asked him one evening at supper.

That great big cat was so shocked he knocked a wine bottle off the table. "Who says I am cursed?"

"Blazes, man, I'm not blind! This palace is worth more than most of the kingdoms of the world put together. If there was a king out there this rich, you can bet every merchant in the world would know of him. He'd have destroyed the world's economy. Fairy magic's the only way you get a horde like this, but you, sir, are no fairy."

Now the Beast seemed intrigued. "How do you know that?"

"A fairy would never have let me live—if he promised to kill me, he'd have killed me. No mercy among their kind. Only a human could have changed his mind like that—for which I'm very grateful, by the way."

"You're welcome," he said, seeming dazed.

I went on, "You're definitely more than a dumb beast; you walk and talk and dress like a man, so it stands to reason you were a man once—that furry coat of yours is just some fairy shell. Same way all these riches are probably just dirt and ashes once you take away the magic. Which means you must have run afoul of a fairy sometime in your past, who decided to curse you with an animal body and then trap you in a palace full of false riches."

I looked at the furnishings, the food, the Beast's clothes—everything spoke of royalty. "Fairies always meddle with royals, so you must have been a prince. The seventh son of the king of Gher went missing just before I went on my last voyage, so I'd wager that he is you. Am I right?"

The Beast goggled. "I…can't say."

"Which means I'm right. No fairy worth his salt would let you say you were cursed. Which means all I have to do is figure out how to break it. Those fairies always give you a way out—the more improbable the better."

I came around to his side of the table so I could walk around him and examine him from all angles. "You were disappointed when I came—you wanted one of my daughters, not me. When I did come, you didn't seem too keen on killling me—which makes me think it was an empty threat, trying to convince me to send my daughter instead. Which means she must be the way to break the curse. What can she do that I can't? Easy—true love. No fairy would think a girl could love a hulking monster like you, so that would be their impossible way to break the curse. You needed, what—true love? Marriage?"

"I can't say," the Beast said, but I knew by his face that I'd hit upon the right answer.

"That makes things simple. You let me out once before. Let me go home again and fetch one of my girls, tell her there's a prince waiting for her, and bring her back to join you in wedded bliss."

He seemed genuinely horrified by that. "I…can't say."

"Oh, of course. It won't count if she knows you're a prince. Well, I'll leave that part out. Tell her that the Beast who spared my life is in need of more company. With a bit of time and a bit of encouragement from her old dad, we'll have you back in human form by Christmas."

He thought it was worth a try, and something he could arrange with the conditions of his curse. So I went home to my children, convinced my sons not to follow me to slay the Beast, and made the castle sound intriguing enough that all three of my girls agreed to join me. I thought that maybe Hope would be the one to break the curse—she's always been the boldest of my girls—but it turned out that my quiet, gentle Beauty brought out the soft side of the Beast. It was the cutest thing you ever saw, the way they'd sit together reading in the rose gardens, that great big cat as shy as a schoolboy with her.

It wasn't three weeks before the Beast worked up the courage to propose—and my Beauty accepted without hesitation. Then there was blinding light and earthquakes, and when the dust cleared, the palace was gone. We were standing in a clearing in the woods—and a black-haired prince stood where the black-haired Beast had once been.

He's an excellent boy—I'll be proud to call him a son. He doesn't mind at all that his bride's the daughter of a failed merchant or that she once worked on a farm. We'll all be moving to his palace across the sea to live as honored members of the family.

Which is why we're moving out on such short notice—his highness doesn't want to be away from his kingdom any longer than he has to. I'm sure you'll find someone else to take the old place off your hands.

No, you don't have to believe me, but it's much better if you do. You'll look much less like a fool once it comes out that it's all true.

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #beauty and the beast #since there was no way to finish my longer stories #i wrangled this old idea into a short piece #i've had this idea for literal years #i think i might have come up with it before my first beauty and the beast retelling #i've liked the premise but was never able to work it into prose #it turns out the key was putting it in his voice #because it didn't matter so much that i *show* you the story when the point is is point of view telling you about it #it was a nice quick way to finally make use of this concept #maybe the title no longer quite fits #but it's what this idea has been called for almost as long as i've had it #so it's staying

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deansbeer · 2 days ago

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off limits ・ JASON TEAGUE. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ library

eighteen plus. minors do NOT interact.

୨୧ synopsis. you visit jason at his first football game as an assistant coach, and after his team wins, he takes you in his office—reckless, desperate, and forbidden. but when lana finds out, everything shatters. now, caught in the fallout of your affair, you and jason must face the consequences.

୨୧ word count. 1.5k

୨୧ kari notes. listen, i don't condone cheating !!! but when it comes to lana … it's justifiable. so save the bitching, i'm entitled to my own opinion and have my reasons for disliking her <3 now that we got that out of the way! this is my first ever jason teague fic and i'm down astronomically bad for him.

the friday night lights shine bright over the smallville high football field, the crowd buzzing with energy as the game wraps up. the crows just won—another victory under assistant coach jason teague's belt.

you watch from the bleachers, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on your lips as you spot him down on the field. he's all confidence, shaking hands with players, clapping them on the back, his spiky sandy blonde hair slightly damp from sweat.

he invited you tonight—nothing unusual, just a casual you should come watch the game when you last saw him.

but there's nothing casual about the way his eyes find yours through the crowd, lingering just a second too long before he turns away.

nothing casual about the way your stomach tightens, your skin prickling with heat.

because jason teague isn't just anyone.

he's your good friend. nothing more.

not to mention, he's also dating lana lang.

but that doesn't stop the way your body reacts when he pulls you aside after the game, leading you through the halls of smallville high, past empty classrooms and dark corridors, until you're standing in front of his office.

"you coming in?" he asks, voice low, gaze heavy.

you should say no.

but you don’t.

the second the door clicks shut behind you, he's on you.

his hands are firm, gripping your waist, pulling you against him, and his mouth crashes against yours in a kiss that's all heat and hunger.

"fuck, i've been thinking about this all night," he mutters against your lips, hands sliding down to grab your ass, pressing you harder against him.

you let out a soft gasp, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan.

"jason," you breathe, "someone could—"

"don't care," he cuts you off, lips trailing down your neck, teeth scraping lightly against your skin. "you think i could focus on that game with you sitting up in the stands lookin' like that?"

your head tilts back as he kisses his way down, his hands already tugging at your tank top, pushing it up, exposing more skin to his touch.

"knew i had to have you the second i saw you walk through those gates," he murmurs, voice rough, "knew i wasn't gonna be able to wait."

you shiver at his words, at the sheer desperation in his tone, and then he's lifting you onto his desk, pushing between your legs, his mouth claiming yours again.

the kiss is messy, all tongue and teeth, years of restraint snapping like a rubber band stretched too thin.

"this is wrong," you whisper against his lips.

"doesn't feel wrong," he counters, hands sliding under your denim skirt, fingers tracing the lace of your panties.

you bite your lip, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

"lock the door."

he smirks, reaching back blindly, twisting the lock until it clicks.

and then he's back on you, pushing your skirt up higher, fingers slipping beneath the lace, finding you already soaked for him.

"fuck," he groans, "all this for me?"

you don't answer—not with words. instead, you reach for his belt, unfastening it with quick, eager fingers, pulling him free from his jeans.

he's hard, thick, the tip already leaking, and the sight alone makes your mouth go dry.

"tell me, baby," he urges, voice low and rough, "tell me you want this."

you meet his gaze, your breath shaky but sure.

"i want this, jay."

that's all he needs.

he pushes your panties aside, lining himself up, and then he's sinking into you, stretching you open inch by inch until he's fully seated inside you.

you both let out a low groan, his forehead dropping against yours, hands gripping your thighs as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust.

"shit," he mutters, "you feel so fuckin' good."

you clutch at the sides of his neck, nails digging into his skin, your body already trembling from the intensity of it all.

"move," you whisper, "fuck—please."

he doesn't make you beg twice.

his hips pull back, then snap forward, setting a deep, steady rhythm that has you gasping, your back arching against the desk.

the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the quiet creak of the desk beneath you, the wet, obscene sound of him fucking into you.

it's reckless. desperate. like you both know how wrong this is, but neither of you care enough to stop.

"so tight," he grits out, "so perfect. my perfect girl."

his hands grip your hips, guiding your movements, pulling you down to meet each thrust.

you bite your lip, trying to hold in your moans, but he notices—of course he does.

"don't hold back, baby," he murmurs, "wanna hear you."

his words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you let go, moaning his name as he fucks you harder, deeper, hitting that perfect spot that has you seeing stars.

"jason—mm—fuck—"

"that's it, sweetheart," he groans, "love hearing you say my name."

you're close—so close you can barely breathe, your body tensing, your nails now dragging down his shoulder blades, the dip in his back.

"gonna come for me?" he teases, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, precise circles.

you nod frantically, clinging to him, overwhelmed by the pleasure building inside you.

"then come," he commands, voice rough with need. "wanna feel you squeeze me, baby."

his words push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your whole body trembling as you cry out his name.

he follows moments later, burying himself deep, groaning against your skin as he spills inside you, his grip on you tightening like he never wants to let go.

for a moment, there's nothing but heavy breathing, the sound of your racing hearts.

then, reality starts to creep back in.

he pulls back slightly, brushing hair from your face, his thumb tracing your cheek.

"you okay?" he asks, voice softer now.

you nod again, having trouble forming coherent sentences, still catching your breath.

he smirks, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

"damn good thing we locked that door."

you laugh, shaking your head, but you don’t move—not yet.

because despite everything, despite knowing this was probably a mistake, there's a part of you that doesn't regret it.

not one bit.

BONUS.

it was bound to happen.

smallville was too small, too full of watchful eyes and nosy mouths.

but you weren't thinking about that the next time you found yourself in jason's office, pressed up against the door, his mouth hot and insistent against yours.

"missed you," he murmurs against your lips, hands already pushing beneath your shirt, fingers rough with need. "been thinking about this all damn week."

you shiver, arching into him, your own hands tugging at his belt.

"you saw me three days ago," you tease, but your voice is breathless, betraying just how much you missed him too.

"not enough," he growls, spinning you around, pressing your front against the door as he grinds against your ass, letting you feel just how hard he already is.

you bite your lip, anticipation thrumming through your veins.

"then don't waste time," you whisper.

he doesn't.

his hands yank down your jeans, your panties, just enough to free you, and then his own zipper is undone, his cock pressing against your slick heat.

"fuck, baby girl," he groans, "always so ready for me."

you barely have time to brace yourself before he's sliding inside, stretching you open in that perfect way that makes your head spin.

"oh, jay—"

"shh," he murmurs, kissing the side of your neck, "gotta keep quiet, sweetheart. wouldn't want anyone hearing, right?"

but that's exactly what happens.

because just as he starts to move, the door handle jiggles.

"jason?"

a voice.

her voice.

lana.

you freeze.

jason stills behind you, his body tense, his grip tightening on your hips.

there’s a single, agonizing beat of silence.

then—

"why is the door locked?"

you barely have time to react before jason is pulling out, his hands quick as he tugs your jeans back up, fixing his own pants in record time.

your heart is hammering in your chest, panic rising fast.

"shit," you whisper, but jason is already moving, already composing himself.

he unlocks the door, cracking it open just enough to slip out, blocking the view inside with his body.

"hey," he says, voice calm, controlled, like he wasn't just buried inside you seconds ago. "what are you doing here?"

"i was looking for you," lana says, her voice soft but suspicious. "why was the door locked?"

"just… needed a minute," jason says smoothly. "long day."

there's a pause.

"who's in there with you?" lana asks, her voice sharper now.

your stomach drops.

jason hesitates—just enough for her to push past him, stepping into the office.

and then her eyes land on you.

her face shifts in an instant—confusion, then realization, then pure devastation.

"oh my god," she breathes.

you don't move.

"lana—" jason starts, but she's already backing up, shaking her head.

"don't," she cuts him off, her voice trembling. "don't you dare, jason."

the silence is suffocating.

then, she turns, storming out of the office without another word.

you exhale, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once.

"goddamnit," jason mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

you swallow hard, looking at him.

"what now?"

he looks back at you, his jaw tight, his eyes unreadable.

"now," he says, "we deal with it."

but the real question is—how?

៸៸៸ special tags. @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @daylighted @beausling @jasvtsc @honeyryewhiskey ⎯⎯ if you wanna be tagged in any jason content, do let me know !!!

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coldsaturn · 3 days ago

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hiii! i have a question i thought you might be able to answer: how did aftg originally get so popular? i know it was mostly word of mouth on tumblr (still is, i think) (who says this website is unmarketable!!) but what were the early days of the fandom like? personally i've "only" been here since 2016, and by then the series was already decently popular. i remember at that time that the fandom was really welcoming and kind in a way that felt really exceptional to me, and it definitely contributed to me picking up the books, which is the only explanation i can really think of for why it got a bigger following than some to other books which did receive a whole big-publisher marketing campaign aside from it just being well-written. do you have any theories for why it got so massive on here? and do you know how the first readers found it? i hope you don't mind me asking you this, but i remember your blog from wayyyy back when and thought that if anyone had the answer, it would probably be you :)

Hello! I always get so happy when I can talk about the early days of the fandom <3 Sit down here around the fire, let me tell you about this wondrous tale.

So, story time: it was spring 2013, I had just finished a thorough read of In The Company Of Shadows and I was starving for another black hole. It was automatic for me to look up the goodread lists ICoS was featured in, to see what other titles I could pick up, and ended up on the list called "Online M/M stories that deserve to be published". The Foxhole Court was right there (it's not anymore because it IS published <3), so I read it. That was the start of the end lmao

If I remember correctly I didn't wait too long before reading TRK, but TKM didn't come out until the end of the following year, so in the meantime I all but shelved it as something that had incredible potential but that was possibly doomed to never be completed. Fast forward I think the start of 2015 when I accidentally stumbled upon TKM and I couldn't believe I could finally know how the story ended. Nora had a blogspot where she talked about the books (including updates between TRK and TKM), and I remember trying to get as much info as I could on this series. And that was it. For a bit.

So, by the first half of 2015, the fandom was made by people commenting on her blogspot, on her livejournal, the book pages on goodreads, and Ao3 literally had 2 fics ( webarchive gives you what we saw - btw Don't Speak Against The Sun is FIRE and instantly became a new standard for f/f for me). You can still find all this content online. Tumblr had a handful of scattered posts about TFC, mostly Nora's mutuals/friends on tumblr, and a couple of readers screaming into the void with no one answering their call.

I was pretty active on here, especially in the bellarke fandom, and I engaged with mutuals and other blogs often enough that I knew if I talked about something, at least someone would reply. A mutual was reading The Raven Cycle and got me curious enough to liveblog it myself. Instant love, of course, and if you've read TRC you know how strong the found family vibe is. So at the end of my liveblog (we've reached July 2015) I threw out a comment where I recommended AFTG as another worthy title. With the first book being free while the other two were only a dollar each, it sounded a fairly easy commitment. One mutual decided to read it (if you're reading, hi!!!) and liveblog it, and that got the party started.

A party of 2, and I'm not kidding. While we chatted and made up headcanon after headcanon on the phone, the intention was to get others interested in this story. But they'd never do it if there wasn't enough content around to engage with and motivate them to blog themselves, so we started with quote posts, liveblog reactions, a few timid edits and poems. An important choice was figuring out which tag to use (at the time tumblr search only scrolled through tags, not post content): "all for the game" was an actual sports tag, "the raven king" was the title announced for the next TRC installment, "the king's men" was the last book of the trilogy and it wasn't even the free one, so we settled for "the foxhole court" which was an empty tag. Even now my blog content is organized around "tfc" because of it, even though we took over all the relevant tags. A couple other mutuals I had from bellarke fandom got curious as well, and now we could consider ourselves a proper group. We were so starved for fan content that whatever you put out would be automatically reblogged and enthusiastically engaged with. It was a happy little fandom bubble. Then Nora noticed us and started interacting with us, and you got the birth of what would become the extra content page as she replied to our questions.

I possibly had a little bit too much time on my hands because I appointed myself as fandom archivist and tour guide. I reblogged every single post I saw in the tags, and I started a welcome page where I could keep track of everyone announcing they were reading the series. It was meant as a way to find mutuals to interact with since tumblr hadn't yet "canonized" all the tags, and it was entirely possible to lose each other in dashboard chains. I used to reply to everyone reading the series by "officially" welcoming them into the fandom, linking them the page where they could find mutuals, Nora's blog, and the extra content present up to that point. Oh and there was a fictional exy team where you could choose your position and then put it in your blog for fun or roleplay it. I also used smashword's gift system to buy the series for whoever said they couldn't pay for it, just to try and avoid pirating the book (good for word of mouth, bad for sales). This was on my side, but this fandom had so many people pouring their entire heart out I still get emotional thinking about it.

Everyone (before January 2016) made as much content as they could, be it meta, fanart, fanfics, headcanons, edits, wikia pages etc. We had fandom challenges where we pronounced the names of the characters and aftg keywords with our native accent, others where we said our favorite scene. Every headcanon was the first headcanon ever seen in the fandom. The fun thing was that at the time there was a strong etiquette toward "if you have nothing nice to say then don't say anything" so fan content really went in all directions with basically no limits. We tagged for triggers and that was it, we had free reign. For those who were around at the time, the sin squad was a group of us fans churning out the saddest/filthiest/fluffiest/most problematic content we could think of.

Then we reached January 2016. We were around 300 in the fandom at that point (I know because I counted them, literally), it had been slow but constant growth where each new fan brought at least other two people with them, and we had around 20 posts per day in the main tag. Then someone bridged the gap between us and the TRC fandom. If you ask me how the fandom got really popular, that's it. The TRC fandom was stuck in hiatus waiting for The Raven King, and now you had 300 rabid foxes spamming aftg content on tumblr, using trk as tag, too. Popular fanartists that were active in that fandom helped making aftg known, and semi viral posts did the rest. We went from 300 to 700 people in a couple of months, and shortly after I had to stop adding people to the welcome page because the post broke. I didn't even know that could happen. It wasn't long after that we were featured in the tumblr end of year recap for book ships. We were so many it was suddenly possible to meet in real life! Cosplays, tattoos, merch. You name it, someone in the fandom did it.

But how did it feel when we were only 20 people and a cardboard dog cutout? It felt like the most chaotic book club ever, and every new fan was automatically a friend. Nostalgia is a lying bitch, but I really don't think I'm making shit up here. We had fun and made great memories.

By the way, if you want to see how things were in 2015, you can! Just go through my archive starting from July 2015 (I think 17th) and onward. You can also search my blog for the tags "fandom history" and "started from nothing and now we're here", whereas here you can find a list of aftg fandom tags I used.

Tl;dr We were starving for good content, we wanted to have fun together, and we were lucky enough to half-hijack a bigger fandom in hiatus. That was all the marketing AFTG needed on tumblr.

#aftg #all for the game #tfc foxes #fandom history #started from nothing and now we're here #the foxhole court #the sunshine court

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wortsandall · 19 hours ago

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YES THE SEX THING !!! it bothers me so much but i see it less so i didn't mention it. but like jazz is friendly and charismatic and his whole thing is music, so i feel like people have this idea in their head that those traits automatically = a nymphomaniac or something.

which would be fine on its own as a standalone context but in context for jazz-it does become an issue because of the connotations of a black coded character being written that way.

especially since jazz has not been depicted like that in any media that has him in it (as far as im aware) so it's an authors personal choice to add this in there for essentially the reason of...? why?

its NOT a jazz character trait. as far as i've seen anyway as i haven't seen every jazz character ever written but i also feel like if he was intended to be seen like that, they'd have no problem doing that. other characters have been written to be like that-there's jokes about certain characters flirting with earth cars and stuff. i mean knock out's entire vibe is tf prime is something like that with his voice, he canonized interface as a cybertronian word for sex, borderline flirting with starscream, etc...

where the nuance comes in here is that there's nothing wrong with a headcanon. and people can headcanon jazz to be like that. and theres nothing inherently wrong with being a flirt and liking sex, whatever.

it just becomes odd that this trait ive only ever seen be added to jazz and never anyone else. and the way its written 50% of the time is completely the 'black guy with a big dick he loves to swing around' stereotype that makes me click off.

(i read one where because jazz is a spy its mentioned he's had to rape people for interrogation purposes before and i immediately clicked off because what the hell are you talking about ???? it felt completely out of place. i guess you could write a story in which that happens-i've got zero issues with dark fic.

but using jazz of all people? i didn't like that. i know jazz is a spy and he's done bad shit before but i just couldn't believe in that.

its the whole 'he wouldn't fucking say that' thing. because people can do whatever they want (all i'm asking is to be a little more socially aware of stereotyping) but ultimately when you're writing fic and you want it to be in character you have to write a set of circumstances that would make a character actually say that. throwing it into a fic that is ultimately the same universe with the same circumstances just slightly tweaked is not enough of a circumstance to make me believe that he would do that to interrogate people. its bad out of character writing. but this is a tangent)

this is getting long (sorry!) but basically yes the "jazz is a beast in the sheets and needs sex 24/7 and we'll talk about every type of past relationship he's ever had and also did you know he's had sex with EVERYONE on the ark" is something that i find so distasteful. because its not jazz.

when i read the idw comics and saw jazz i did not see what these writers were seeing. and it feels like a purposeful choice to see him like that versus the guy he actually is. im not an expert but he's just a charming musician who's pretty laid back and uses that as an advantage for a spy stuff sometimes.

i don't think it's really an act that he's a generally nice dude who just also has the whole "i got to do what needs to be done thing prowl has" but he actually does feel guilt (which is why i don't think he would ever take an interrogation far enough to rape somebody jesus christ) and he does let emotion get in the way like when he killed that guy on earth.

its feels off putting to turn the guy i described above into the type of guy that would:

- continue to flirt with prowl after being rejected over and over again (comes up a lot in jazzprowl)

-disrespect boundaries/be sexually aggressive in general

-talk about sex all the time even when inappropriate

-run off to jerk off or have inappropriately timed sex

all things ive seen across various different fics. and if you want to write jazz that way you better create a set of circumstances that makes me believe it. because throwing it into tf animated of all continuities (as an example) just make me immediately side eye your priorities

tldr; the jazz sex fiend trend does bother me. i don't think writing him that way or enjoying him written that way automatically makes you racist. but i do encourage people to explore any subconscious bias they may have because that trait doesn't make sense for jazz. especially if you want to write in character jazz fics.

in the spirit of honesty...the way some of yall write jazz in transformers fanfic is honestly appalling. it screams ive never met a black person in my life. it screams i watched michael bays 2007 transformers and took notes, as if the bayverse hasnt been criticized for its terrible stereotyping.

yes, he has an accent. yes, he uses slang. but jesus christ. his usage is not as egregious as yall write it. yall write him like hes stupid and uneducated. the ultimate caricature of a black man. its super insulting.

and i get that he's not actually black due to not being human but he is black coded and the treatment is abysmal at times.

my advice? JUST WRITE DIALOGUE. our brains do the rest. i know what he sounds like, i can fill it in myself.

stop writing "ay, ya sure ya got shit handled, fam'? bro, i 'aint no fool, i gots that dog n' me."

ESPECIALLY BC JAZZ HAS NEVER. SPOKEN LIKE THAT ANYWAY.

sincerely, a (very) frustrated black person.

#also i will be looking at those recs thank you very much #this got SO LONG im sorry #jazz #tf jazz #transformers #maccadam

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starconstruction · 14 hours ago

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I really love your 🌙 smut, as a f-reader, I like how you consider f-reader as well in the kinks post, even it’s for m-reader I still like it so much , I want to see more about cosplay kink of jinsoul hehe~ I do think her fav one is student and teacher (because she love school uniform a lot🥰)

Classroom Cosplay

Allow me to give you some more Jinsoul cosplaying, i was going to do both readers for these thoughts but i didnt have the motivation.

I'll keep writing female readers for non fic asks, because it doesn't require it to be wrote twice. If im suggested any really good f!reader fics i might do them but they seem to be less popular so idk.

Smut Tags: Classroom, uniform kink, clothed sex, table sex, blowjob, creampie, rough, cosplay.

wc:1111, not proof read.

The faux classroom wasn't majorly convincing, but it would do. You had rearranged the guest room, scrapping the bed in place of tables. Buying a cheap whiteboard which had hastily drawn equations on it, the walls painted a soft beige. The walls had several pieces of paper on it, class work that Jinsoul had written in her last year of college.

You were sat at your desk, the "lesson" just concluded. The phantom students walked out the door, Jinsoul was about to join them. But you couldn't let that slide. "Jinsoul. Come here." You spoke firmly, gesturing at the desk in front of you. Jinsoul complied, sitting on the wooden surface.

She was wearing her last year college uniform, a black skirt that had well and truly rode up her legs. Giving you a view of her lace panties, her white shirt was mostly obscured under the accessories. A black tie laid on her chest surrounded by a grey and maroon cuffed blazer. Her hair was in a neat ponytail, she always looked beautiful but she was in her element here.

"What do you want professor?" Her voice turned the sweetness up to 100. Like she was innocent and not a class disrupting bitch. "You keep disrespecting me, distracting others and disrupting the class." You barked, "What do you have to say for yourself!" You felt strong in this moment.

Jinsoul paused, pretending to give a fuck. Tapping her fingers into the desk, "Oh nooooo.. I'm so sorrryyy." Your chest tightened as you got up from your desk, you towered over her body trying not to fly into a fit of rage. "You are a disrespectful pest." You breathed, Jinsoul smiled in your face. "If I've been such a bad girl, why don't you punish me?" She said, a gaze of defiance over her face. "Fine, I'll give you another essay to do."

Her smile disappeared, "No professor.. Not like that." Jinsoul grabbed your hand, pressing your long fingers against her panties. Now slightly wet as she fell into character. "Like this, if I'm such a bad girl make me regret it." She gasped.

"Oh really now?" You said, rubbing her clothed cunt. Her body reacted to your touch, gasping as her legs started to close in pleasure. "Yes professor..." That wasnt going to do, she had to learn. "Call me sir." You demanded, pulling her tie against her neck. Her lips met yours with the taste of flavourless sugar. Jinsoul's hand wondered against your slacks. Fingers brushing against your clothed hardness, they started to rub as Jinsoul kissed harder into your mouth.

You two pulled away from each other's lips, a string of shared saliva connecting you two. Jinsoul's pink tongue sliced it up as she looked at you expectantly, "Sir, are you going to punish me or what?" She smirked, baiting a reaction out of you like she was dangling fish food. "You fucking slut." You growled.

In an instant hands found her legs, roughly shoving her into the floor as she fell on her knees on the ground next to you. A yelp of surprise came from her sensational mouth, now inches from your clothed dick. "You want a punishment so bad?" You asked, Jinsoul nodded eagerly. "Then you'll fucking get one." You unzipped your pants, boxers falling suit with your cock firmly pressing against her mouth.

"You will take everything I give you." Before Jinsoul could react you forced yourself into her mouth, eyes widening as your length was firmly inside. She was warm and inviting, saliva coating your cock as her tongue was dragging against the bottom of your shaft. Every bump brought a whirlwind of pleasure, Jinsoul's cheeks tightened as they hollowed out.

"Such a great throat for a good slut.." You moaned, but if she wanted a punishment she was going to have it. You monuvered her body, pushing her against the throat of your desk. Still planted deep inside her mouth, the new angle gave you deeper access into her college mouth pussy. Slamming into the students throat "God, your slutty throat takes me so well.." You groaned, her eyes pooled with tears as your cock hit the back of her mouth. Sliding down her throat as you pulled back and forth, "You want my cum in your stomach?" She tried to nod, struggling against the frequent assault. "Too bad, you don't deserve it in anywhere but that cunt of yours." You moaned, her hands trapped against her side as you used her.

You grew bored of her greedy throat, pulling out the slick cavern. Saliva dripped against the floor as your cock was now dirty in her spit. Jinsoul started to catch her breath, heaving as she coughed up more saliva onto the carpet. Your hand grabbed her collar, picking her up as she looked at you with a pitch black lust. "Sir.. I'm so wet, please.." Her voice was whiny, hand tugging at your shirt. "Fuck me." You had to comply, cleaning off the desk as the equipment rained down onto the floor.

Jinsoul fell against the desk, body hitting the surface as she laid there. "I'm going to keep this uniform on you slut." The way she looked in her uniform was irresistible, moving the soiled fabric between her legs to the right, cock rubbing against the eager folds. Soft and supple as it coated your tip, you lined up with her hole. "I'm going to penetrate this cunt, make you regret ever disrupting my class." You pressed in. A shared moan erupting in the classroom as you entered her tightness.

You and Jinsoul had sex several times before, she was always tight but this was different. Clenching against your cock, suffocating it as you were drowned in her juices. This angle made it hard to thrust into her, an uphill battle that was rewarded with hitting her g-spot. "Yes s-sir! Ram that cock into me!" She begged, locking eyes with you as you entered and left her gripping walls. Balls slamming against the desk as you thrusted into her wanton body.

"Jinsoul!" You accidentally called her name, hand reaching towards her mouth. "Open up." Her mouth complied, finger weaseling in as her tongue licked it. Sucking on your digit as you slammed into her crotch, cunt reddening as every slap of your body drove her wild.

Her earlier head made you sensitive under the cunt of your student. "I'm gonna cum!! Fuck!" You blew into her body, spurts of semen shot up into womb as you pulled out, dripping onto the classroom ground.

"Thank you Y/N, you are an excellent actor." She said, kissing you passionately.

#smut #male reader #imagines #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #loona smut #jinsoul smut #artms smut

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raiffeldrakon123 · 2 days ago

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DP X DC | Short Story 1

The following story is based on a prompt I've made. The idea is the same, but the execution is different.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

— Alright Steph, we are all here now, how about you start explaining now? -Barbara said softly, her gaze kind. The rest of the Batfamily watched Steph with a mix of curiosity and subtle concern from their seats around the room.

Stephanie lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the floor as her mind raced. She had always known this day would come —it was almost a miracle she’d managed to keep the secret for as long as she had. But now that the moment was here, she had no idea how to begin explaining it all to them. She stayed silent for a few more seconds, letting out a slow breath before raising her head and running a hand through her hair. Her eyes met the faces of the people around her —not her family by blood, but at this point, they might as well have been.

— Alright, but just for the record, I swear I didn’t mean to keep this a secret from you guys, -She said, her voice tinged with guilt. She lifted a hand to scratch the back of her neck, glancing away.- For this long, anyway.

— So, you did mean to keep this a secret from us, -Damian said, narrowing his eyes at her, his frown deepening

Stephanie flinched at Damian’s words but pushed through.

— Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about this sooner, -She said, her voice steady despite the tension in her shoulders.- But in my defense, it wasn’t any of your business. It was mine, and I had it under control. -She swept her gaze across the room, meeting each of their eyes in turn —Though her gaze lingered on Tim, Bruce, Barbara, and Dick a bit more than the others.- And be honest — if I’d told you all about it at the very start of my vigilante career, can any of you really say you wouldn’t have meddled?

Bruce, Barbara, Dick, and Tim exchanged uncomfortable glances, their silence louder than any admission. Alfred shook his head in exasperation while Selena shook her head with fondness, and Steph couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at her lips. If she had told them and they’d decided to meddle, she knew he would have quietly taken her side —even if both had wanted to meddle themselves; They were one of the rare voices of reason in the house, both were consumed by paranoia and actually knew when to step in and when to let things be.

— Anyway... how about we get back to your explanation? -Barbara said, gently steering the conversation back on track. She unlocked her phone and opened the gallery, turning the screen toward Stephanie.- When did this happen?

The image on the screen was one Barbara had found during her routine security check, making sure nothing dangerous had slipped into their devices. It showed a grinning Danny holding a baby girl —Ellie— who was beaming as she reached for the phone. The caption read: "Look how much fun I’m having, Mommy!"

— It... it happened back when I first started going out to stop my father, -Stephanie said, thinking back about those times.- I met Danny right after I found out the guy I was sort of dating at school was only with me because I was one of the few girls he hadn’t screwed yet.

The room fell into silence like a guillotine blade. The shift in atmosphere was immediate —muscles tensed, jaws clenched, and eyes darkened with barely restrained fury. Even Alfred, the eternal wellspring of calm of the family, had a cold, dangerous glint in his gaze that reminded everyone that he used to work for the secret services back in England.

— And who, -Dick started, his voice dripping with a sweetness so artificial it was venomous.- would this ‘guy’ be? -His smile was so painfully fake it might as well have been carved into his face.- I think I speak for everyone when I say we just want to... talk.

Around the room, heads nodded in grim unison. Damian, Duke, Bruce, Lucius, Alfred, Barbara, Cassandra, Kate, Harper, Selina, and Jason —each one radiating their own brand of barely contained rage in her steed.

— I’m not telling you his name, -Steph said, rolling her eyes, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.- As much as I don’t like him, I don’t want him mysteriously ending up in the hospital over something that happened years ago. Besides, -she added with a smirk,- I kicked him so hard in the nuts he probably still wakes up screaming, so you guys don’t need to get even for me.

— You went too easy on him, Brown, -Damian growled, voice low and brimming with malice.- Scum like that needs to suffer more. Pain is the only language they understand.

— Have to agree with the demon spawn, -Kate muttered, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.- He clearly needs a better lesson in how to treat women like human beings.

— Preach, -Cassandra, Selena, and Harper said in perfect, almost chilling synchronicity.

Their protectiveness genuinely touched Stephanie, but she had a story to finish.

127 notes · View notes

rootedinrevisions · 1 day ago

Text

Religiously

Summary: Jake’s world is turned upside down when he learns that the woman he once loved is getting married to someone else. Struggling with the weight of his past mistakes and the emotional fallout of their breakup, Jake is deployed on a mission that nearly costs him his life. What happens when he returns home to recover from his injuries and comes face to face with her?

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (No Use of Y/n)

Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Religious References, Violence related to military action and combat, Combat Related Injury, Mentions of near death experiences, Discussions of emotional and physical pain, PTSD like themes, Possible triggers related to medical and emergency situations.

Word Count: 6,664

A/N: So it's been a little bit since I posted anything. But here is a little something I've been working on for a few days. Hope you guys enjoy xx

**Flashbacks ared indicated by italics**

Jake shifted the phone to his other ear, stretching his legs out on the hard, thin standard issue mattress that the Navy offered in the barracks. The air conditioning unit rattled in the background, barely cutting through the Southern California heat.

It was late, and he was tired. But he knew he couldn’t miss his usual Sunday night call with his mom. No matter where the Navy sent him, Mama Seresin always expected him to check in.

“Your dad finally fixed the fence,” his mom was saying. “After I reminded him for the hundredth time.”

Jake smirked, rubbing a hand over his face. “Took him long enough.”

“That’s what I said, honey! But you know how he is. Stubborn as a mule.”

“Guess I know where I get it from, then.”

His mom scoffed. “Oh honey, that’s all from your daddy’s side.”

Jake chuckled, the familiar back and forth easing some of the tension in his chest. These calls were a tether to home. Something steady in a life that seemed to never stop moving.

But then his mom’s tone shifted, just slightly. “Oh, did you see the picture of the paper? Your sister said she was going to send it to you.”

Jake frowned. “What paper?”

“The Gazette. They had an engagement announcement in last week’s edition.”

He didn’t think much of it at first, just let her words settle in the background as he reached for the beer on the nightstand.

And then she said your name.

Jake’s fingers froze around the bottle. His heart punched once, hard, against his ribs.

“She’s getting married next month. Can you believe it?”

His throat suddenly felt tight and dry. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Big wedding from what I hear. Out at that fancy vineyard in Hill Country. Her mama must be over the moon.”

Jake could only nod, even though she couldn’t see him.

You. Married.

He should’ve expected it. It had been years since he’d last seen you, since he’d walked away and let you go. But still, something about it didn’t sit right.

“Anyway, I always thought you two would end up together,” his mom added casually. Like she hadn’t just knocked the wind out of him. “Guess life had other plans.”

Jake let out a breath through his nose, gripping the bottle tighter. “Yeah. Guess so.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy with everything he didn’t say.

“Jake?” His mom’s voice softened. “You okay, sweetie?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure, honey?” his mom pressed. “You sound—”

“I’m good, Ma,” he cut in, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He ran a hand over his face. “Just tired. Long day.”

His mom didn’t push, but he could hear the doubt in the way she sighed. “Alright, well, get some rest. And call me next Sunday, you hear?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

The call ended with a soft click, but the silence it left behind was anything but peaceful.

Jake let the phone rest against his chest for a second, staring up at the ceiling. The AC hummed steady but weak, barely making a dent in the sticky air.

He shut his eyes. Tried to push the thought of you out of his head. Tried to forget the way your name had felt like a punch to the ribs. Tried not to picture you in a white dress, smiling at some other man.

Jake sat up abruptly, cursing under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair, restless. His pulse was too loud, his thoughts running too fast.

He told himself to leave it alone. To let it go, the way he had years ago.

But his fingers moved before he could stop them, unlocking his phone and pulling up his photos. He scrolled fast, past images of deployments, blurry bar nights, old squadmates.

Until he sees it. A picture of you.

The two of you, tangled together on the dock that summer. Your legs draped over his, your head tipped back in laughter. The setting sun had turned your skin golden, your hair wind-tousled and perfect. He remembered the exact moment he took the photo.

“You’re staring,” you’d teased, nudging his arm.

“Maybe,” he’d admitted, grinning. “Can you blame me?”

Jake swallowed hard. His thumb hovered over the screen. He should put the phone down. Delete the photos. Move on.

But instead, his mind pulled him under. Back to that summer. Back to you. Back to the moment everything changed.

Jake kept scrolling. Past the dock. Past the bonfires. Past the blurry, stolen moments that still felt too sharp.

And then he stopped. The picture filled his screen, pulling the air straight from his lungs.

You, standing in the middle of the river, the water lapping at your thighs. Your arms stretched out, face tipped to the sun, eyes closed like you could soak in the warmth forever. That stupid blue swimsuit he used to tease you about, the one you insisted was your favorite.

He could still hear your laugh from that day.

Could still feel the moment everything changed.

“You coming in, or what?” you called, twisting toward him, your hair dripping down your back.

Jake sat on the riverbank, forearms resting on his knees, watching you wade deeper into the water. “I don’t know. You sure it’s not freezing?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s Texas in July, dumbass.”

Still he didn’t move. Just sat there, watching the sunlight catch in your hair, the way the water curved around your legs.

You sighed, dramatically, and turned to face him fully. “Okay, fine. I’ll come to you.”

Before he could react, you lunged forward, hands cutting through the water, sending a wave straight at him.

“Damn it—”

It was too late. Cold water splashed over his legs, soaking the edge of his shorts.

Your laugh was loud and reckless. “Guess it’s not that cold, huh?”

Jake shot to his feet. “Oh, you’re real funny.”

“I try,” you quipped, grinning as you stepped back, deeper into the river. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

He didn’t think—just moved. Sprinting forward, he hit the water fast, the shock of it stealing his breath, but he didn’t stop. You yelped, spinning to escape, but he caught you easily, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Jake. Don’t you dare—”

Too late.

He lifted you effortlessly, slinging you over his shoulder before spinning in a circle. You shrieked, kicking your legs, but he only laughed.

“Apologize,” he teased, tightening his grip.

“Never.”

“Suit yourself.”

And then he dropped you. You disappeared beneath the surface, the splash soaking him completely. He barely had a second to gloat before you popped up, hair plastered to your face, eyes blazing with mock outrage.

“Oh, it’s on,” you warned.

Before he could react, you launched yourself at him, pushing him under.

He surfaced a second later, shaking water from his face, only to find you already laughing.

You looked happy. You always looked happy, but today there was something different about it. About you.

Jake’s breath caught, something unfamiliar curling in his chest. He wanted to keep you like this. Wanted to see you like this every damn day.

And that’s when it hit him. Like a punch to the ribs.

He was falling for you. Maybe he already had.

Jake blinked, the memory dissolving like mist.

His chest ached, his grip tightening around the phone.

He should’ve told you. He should’ve said those three little words that summer.

But he never did. And now? Now you were marrying someone else.

Jake exhaled sharply and closed out of his photo album. Before he could think better of it, his fingers moved on instinct, opening his social media app and typing your name into the search bar.

The first picture hit him like a gut punch.

You standing in front of a wall of pastel balloons, champagne glass in hand. The caption read Bride to Be in swirly gold script, matching the sash draped over your shoulder. Someone had tagged you in the post a few weeks ago

Jake swallowed hard, his eyes dragging over the details.

The white dress clung to you in all the right ways. Your hair was curled soft around your face, your smile wide and effortless.

You looked happy. Really happy.

The sight of it made him sick.

His stomach twisted as he swiped through more photos. You, laughing with friends. You cutting into a cake shaped like a wedding dress. You leaning into your fiancé..

Jake’s jaw locked at the sight of the guy.

He looked…fine. Some clean cut, polished type. A little too put together. A little too perfect.

Your smiles with your fiance were poised and practiced. Pretty but forced. The kind of smile you put on when you knew a camera was on you. It was the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Jake scrolled back to one of your old pictures together. A blurry shot from a summer night. You were sitting beside him on the tailgate of his truck. Your head was thrown back in laughter. No perfect angles. No careful posing. Just you, caught mid laugh, so lost in the moment you didn’t care about the camera.

And maybe Jake was just torturing himself, but he swore you looked happier then. Happier with him.

He scrolled back up, staring at the image of you in white at the bridal shower. Maybe you smiled like that now. Maybe you convinced yourself this was what you wanted.

Jake exhaled sharply and shut off his phone, dropping it onto the bed beside him like it burned. But the image of you in white was already seared into his mind.

Marriage. It was what you always wanted. Hell, he wanted it too…just not as soon as you. He told himself he wasn’t ready. That he needed more time, that he had things to figure out, that forever could wait a little longer.

But you weren’t willing to wait for him to decide that he was ready. And now time was up.

His jaw clenched. He ran a hand over his face, dragging it down to his mouth as if that could stop the ache clawing at his chest.

He should be over this by now. You were.

He stared at the ceiling, willing himself not to care.

It had been a couple of years. He’d had his share of short lived relationships, other break ups. He went through the motions. First dates, good mornings, empty conversations that never quite filled the space you left behind. Some hurt for a while, some didn’t even register, most faded into nothing more than a name or a fleeting memory.

But yours? That breakup was different. It wasn’t just another failed relationship. Yours was the one that gutted him. The one that still sat heavy in his chest, refusing to be buried no matter how much time passed.

It was the only one that still got to him. He could barely remember the details of his other breakups. Who ended things first, the reasons why, the words exchanged. They were all just echoes of something that was never meant to last.

But you? He remembered everything.

"I love you, Jake. I love you so much, but I can’t keep waiting for you to decide if you want this...if you want me."

Your eyes had been glassy, your hands clenched into fists at your sides like you were holding yourself together by sheer will alone. He’d stood there, jaw tight, arms crossed, refusing to let himself break. Refusing to admit he was terrified.

"It’s not that simple," he had said, voice rough, exhausted from the same argument you’d been having for weeks.

"It is for me," you whispered, voice cracking. "I want a life with you. A future. A family. But if you don’t know if you want that with me, then I—" You sucked in a sharp breath. "Then I can’t do this anymore."

The way your fingers trembled as you slipped the key to his place onto the counter nearly undid him. It was such a small movement, so quiet, but it hit like a gunshot. Final. Permanent.

Even then, even when you turned to go, he could have stopped you. He could have said Wait. I love you. I want this. I want you. But his own stubborn silence kept him frozen, hands fisting at his sides as he watched you walk to the door.

And everything in him screamed that he should run after you.

But he didn’t. And that was the moment he lost you.

And now, years later, the weight of losing you hadn’t lessened. If anything, it pressed down harder, knowing you’d moved on while he was still stuck here trying to pretend he wasn’t.

Jake’s thumb hovered over the screen as he scrolled, then stopped. A picture of you with a guitar.

You were sitting on a blanket in the grass, laughing at something just outside the frame, fingers curled around the neck of the instrument like it was second nature. The sight of it pulled at something deep in his chest. And just like that, he was back there.

Back on your front porch that summer night.

The cicadas hummed in the background, a lazy breeze rolling through, carrying the scent of honeysuckle and warm earth. You sat cross legged on the old wooden swing, your guitar balanced on your lap, the porch light casting a soft glow over your face.

"Come on, Jake," you teased, strumming a few easy chords. "You know this one."

He grinned, leaning against the railing with a beer dangling from his fingers. "I know it, but I’m not singing it."

"Fine," you huffed dramatically, but there was a smile playing on your lips. "Guess I’ll just have to sing it for both of us."

Your voice, soft and sweet, wrapped around the melody, carrying the words into the warm night air. And Jake just watched you. The way your fingers danced effortlessly over the strings. The way your nose scrunched slightly when you hit the higher notes. The way your eyes flicked up to meet his like you were singing just for him.

And that was the moment.

That was the moment he knew, or at least thought he knew, that he was going to marry you.

It hit him so fast, so unexpectedly, that it nearly knocked the breath out of him. He’d never believed in fate or soulmates or any of that, but sitting there, listening to you play your song under the Texas sky, he’d never been so sure of anything in his life.

But that was a lifetime ago.

And now, that life the one he thought he’d have with you, belonged to someone else.

Tomorrow he was leaving for deployment. Another stretch of time spent oceans away, filling his days with routine and responsibility. Pushing everything else, everything going on in his personal life to the back of his mind.

That was usually the easy part. But this time?

This time, he wished you were here. He wished you were the one standing by giving him that last lingering hug before he boarded the plane. The one pressing a kiss to his lips and telling him to stay safe, to come home in one piece. You used to say it with a teasing smile, but he knew you meant it with every part of you.

And if he was being honest with himself, if he let himself sink into that dangerous, aching place in his chest, he wished you’d be the one waiting for him when he came home too.

But he knew better than that. By the time he came back, you’d be someone else’s. You’d moved on. You’d found what you needed with someone who didn’t keep you waiting for him to be ready.

And tomorrow, as he stood on the tarmac, duffel slung over his shoulder, staring out at the horizon before takeoff…he’d have to find a way to make peace with that.

* * * * *

The days leading up to the mission had felt like any other. Straightforward. Jake had been briefed, run the practice drills. He knew the routine, knew the threats, knew the risks. But he wasn’t worried. He’d been through this before. He was trained for moments like this. His crew made up of Phoenix and Bob had his back, and he trusted them.

It wasn’t a difficult mission. Two planes. Simple intel. Minor threat from enemy aircraft, but it wasn’t a serious risk. That’s what they had been told, and Jake believed it.

They took off that morning, the cool January air crisp as the planes cut through it. Jake was leading, flying in formation with Phoenix and Bob close behind. The adrenaline buzzed in his veins, but he kept it steady. They had their plan, and nothing was going to go wrong. Or so he thought.

The radio crackled in his ear, Phoenix's voice cutting through the static. "Enemy aircraft, five o’clock!"

Jake didn’t see them. Not at first. Everything was too smooth, too easy. But as Phoenix and Bob called it out, the world shifted. He glanced over his shoulder just as a shadow broke through the cloud cover.

Before he could react, there was a burst of red hot fire tearing through his right wing. The impact hit like a freight train, and then… everything went wrong. His plane jolted violently, and the warning lights flashed in his cockpit.

"Shit!" Jake muttered under his breath, fighting for control.

His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the sky. Phoenix and Bob were calling over the radio shouting commands, but everything was a blur of panic and noise.

The next thing he knew, the plane was spiraling, falling. And then came the gut wrenching sound of metal meeting the surface as his plane hit the water.

It was cold, too cold.

His body hit the surface with an intensity that felt like concrete.

Pain exploded in his chest, knocking the wind out of him, the world spinning around him as his plane began to sank. He struggled to keep his head above water. The saltwater burned against his skin, but it was the cold that was most unforgiving.

His breath came in shallow gasps. He could barely keep his eyes open. The pain radiated through every nerve in his body, but his thoughts didn’t linger on the physical agony.

All he could think about was you.

Your face, your laugh, the way you smiled at him like you were the only two people in the world. The warmth of your touch when he held you close. The way your eyes sparkled in the light.

God, he missed you.

It didn’t even feel like life anymore. The sun was still shining above, but it was too bright, too distant.

For a moment, Jake wondered if this was what death felt like. If the coldness of the ocean would be the last thing he ever felt.

He was there drifting, and staring up at the sky, each passing second slipping further and further from him. The world was fading. He wasn’t sure if it was the water filling his lungs or the weight of the loss that was dragging him down.

And then, in that haze of fading consciousness, a single thought pierced through the fog.

He would never see you again.

The pain from the crash didn’t compare to the ache in his chest at that thought. The empty, hollow feeling that consumed him, knowing he’d never get another chance to hold you, to tell you he loved you, to fix the mess he made.

His eyes closed again, the memory fading as darkness closed in, but not before he whispered one last time, "I love you."

Jake didn’t know how much time had passed. But suddenly the world around Jake was nothing but noise and shadows, a blur of voices he couldn’t quite make sense of. His body felt like a weight, every inch of him burning with pain, yet somehow, it was as if his mind was disconnected, floating somewhere far away.

He was still in the water. The coldness had a grip on him, sinking into his bones, but now... now there was warmth, a sensation that almost didn’t feel real. He blinked slowly, the light above him flickering, and then it was the sound of helicopters. The deep, reverberating thrum of blades slicing through the sky.

“Lieutenant Seresin!” a voice called, familiar yet distant. “Stay with me.”

He couldn’t focus on who was speaking, but the words reached him, distant echoes that seemed to tug him back from the abyss.

He heard his call sign then, as if it was the only thing tethering him to the world: “Hangman...Hangman, we’ve got you.”

A sharp pain ran through his body, and he hissed in response. His eyes tried to focus, but the world kept shifting, pulling him further under, as if the ocean itself was calling him back.

“Hang in there, Hangman!” another voice barked, this one more frantic. “We’ve got you. Just hold on.”

But he couldn’t hold on. He couldn’t keep his grip on consciousness. His eyes closed again, darkness threatening to take over.

And in that quiet, fleeting moment before everything faded, one thought echoed in his mind, louder than any of the voices around him, louder than the chopper blades, louder than the pain.

One name.

Your name.

The sound of your name coming from his lips was barely audible. But the weight of it was everything. It was the only thing his heart could hold onto.

The darkness began to press in around him yet again. But the voices around him wouldn’t let him go.

“Hangman, come on. You’ve got to stay with us.” Someone urged, and Jake could feel the pressure of someone's hands on his chest. He could tell he was being moved.

But even as he was pulled away from the brink of death, all he could think about was you. And the painful truth that you weren’t there. You weren’t going to be there waiting for him if he woke up.

* * * * *

The steady beeping of a heart monitor was the first thing Jake registered as he drifted back to consciousness. He blinked against the bright overhead light, his vision adjusting to the sterile white walls of a hospital room. His body felt heavy, weighed down by pain and exhaustion, but he was alive.

Alive. The word should’ve meant something. Should’ve felt like a victory. But all he felt was numb.

He didn’t know how long he lay there staring at the ceiling, letting the reality of everything settle in. The mission. The hit. The cold. The pain. The fact that he should be dead, but somehow wasn’t.

And you. You had been the last thing on his mind before he hit the water. The last thing before everything faded.

And now lying here alive when he shouldn’t be, he didn’t know what to do with that.

* * * * *

Jake stepped off the plane, the humid Texas air wrapping around him like an old familiar embrace. The warmth should’ve felt like home, but it didn’t. Not really. Maybe nothing would after everything.

His ribs ached from the long flight, but he ignored it as he grabbed his duffel bag and made his way through the small Austin airport. His mom was waiting for him near baggage claim, standing on her toes to scan the crowd. The second she spotted him, relief softened her face, and she rushed forward, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Jake," she breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "Oh, honey, it's so good to see you."

He gritted his teeth against the pain of her embrace but didn’t pull away. "Good to see you too, Mama."

She held him for a moment longer before stepping back, her hands lingering on his arms like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go. Her eyes scanned his face, taking in the bruises, the exhaustion still clinging to him. "You look tired."

"Yeah, well. Almost dying will do that to a guy."

She swatted his arm lightly. "Don’t joke about that."

He gave her a tired smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Not joking."

Her expression faltered for a second, like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she just squeezed his arm. "Come on. Let’s get you home."

The drive back to the house was quiet, save for the occasional updates from his mom about family, neighbors, the latest town gossip. But Jake wasn’t really listening. He just stared out the window, watching the familiar Texas landscape roll past.

When they pulled into the driveway, his mom turned off the engine but didn’t get out right away. Instead, she looked at him carefully, her hands still gripping the wheel.

"You settling in okay?" she asked.

He frowned. "I just got here."

She nodded slowly, her lips pressing together like she was debating saying something else.

"What?" Jake asked, narrowing his eyes.

His mom hesitated, then gave him a small, knowing smile. "Nothing. Just…I have a feeling you're gonna find your time home a little more interesting than you expected."

Jake’s stomach twisted, but before he could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, she grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car, leaving him sitting there, wondering why the hell she suddenly looked like she knew something he didn’t.

The next morning, the house was quiet. His parents had already left for work, leaving Jake alone with nothing but the old family dog and his own thoughts. He sat on the porch, the Texas sun warming his skin, a coffee cup resting on the arm of the wooden chair beside him.

His ribs still ached with every breath, and even the smallest movements sent sharp reminders through his body. But the worst pain wasn’t physical.

Beau, the aging golden retriever, lay at his feet, tail thumping lazily against the wooden planks as Jake absently scratched behind his ears. The dog was content. Jake wished he could say the same.

He leaned back, closing his eyes, listening to the rustle of the wind through the trees. It was peaceful, but peace didn’t reach him the way it used to. Not with everything in his head. Not with everything in his chest.

Then he heard it. Gravel crunching under tires.

His brows pulled together as he opened his eyes, turning his head toward the driveway. A car he didn’t recognize was pulling in. His stomach tightened, his mind automatically running through the possibilities. Maybe it was a neighbor. Maybe someone looking for his mom or dad.

Then the driver’s side door opened. And you stepped out.

Jake’s entire body went still. For a second, he wondered if the pain meds were making him hallucinate. Because there was no way you were here. No way you were standing in his parents’ driveway, looking exactly the same and somehow completely different all at once.

His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out everything else.

You shut the car door gently, standing there for a beat, like you weren’t sure if you should take another step.

Jake swallowed, but his throat was dry.

You take a slow step forward. Then another. The crunch of your shoes against the gravel is the only sound between you. Beau lifts his head, watching you curiously, but Jake didn’t move. He just watches you come closer, like he isn’t sure if you’re real or if you’ll disappear before you reach him.

And then you stop at the edge of the porch. Close enough that he can see every flicker of hesitation in your eyes. Close enough that he can tell you’re nervous.

Neither of you speak at first. You just look at each other. For a moment, it feels like the whole world holds its breath.

Then you break the silence. "How are you?"

Jake almost lies. The words 'I’m fine' sit on the tip of his tongue, easy and automatic. But when he looks at you—really looks at you—he can’t bring himself to say it.

Instead he exhales, shifts slightly in his seat, and admits, "Everything hurts like hell."

Your lips press together, your gaze flickering down, and for a second, he wonders if he shouldn’t have said that. If maybe you didn’t want to hear the truth.

Then you go quiet. Your fingers fidget at your sides, like you’re debating something.

Jake watches you, waiting. And then, finally, you lift your gaze and say softly, "I was scared when I got the call."

His brow furrows slightly. "What?"

You let out a breath, shifting on your feet. "They…couldn’t get ahold of your mom after the accident. And I guess..." You hesitate. "I guess I was still listed as a contact on your paperwork."

Jake's stomach tightens.

"They called you?" His voice is quieter now.

You nod. "Yeah." A small, almost breathless laugh leaves you, but it isn’t amused. It’s tired. "I was the one who had to tell your mom what happened."

Jake stares at you, something unreadable flickering through his expression.

He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to process the fact that you were the one who got the call. That you were the one who had to break the news to his mother.

And that when it came down to it, you still picked up the phone.

Jake lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he looks away. "Hell, maybe it would’ve been easier if I didn’t make it."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Jake—"

"I’m serious," he mutters, still not meeting your eyes. "Would’ve saved everyone a lot of trouble. You wouldn’t have had to get that call. Wouldn’t have had to show up here now, feeling like you owe me something." He exhales sharply, jaw tight. "Would’ve been easier for you."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Your arms drop from where they’d been crossed over your chest, the weight of his statement sinking deep into your bones.

"You think that?" Your voice is quieter now, but there’s an edge to it. Sharp and laced with something close to anger. "You think it would be easier for me if you were—"

You can’t even say the word. It makes you sick.

Jake finally looks at you then, and for the first time since you stepped out of your car, he sees it. The hurt in your eyes, the way you’re gripping your hands into fists like you’re trying to hold yourself together.

"God, Jake." You shake your head, blinking hard. "You really think I’d want to live in a world where you don’t exist?"

He swallows, but he doesn’t say anything.

"I don’t care what happened between us. I don’t care how much time has passed." Your voice wavers, but you push through it. "I would never, never be okay with losing you."

Jake looks away again, his throat tight, his chest heavier than it already was. He wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t expecting you to still feel anything close to this strongly.

Jake clears his throat, shifting on the porch steps. He winces as the movement sends a sharp pain through his ribs. The weight of your words still lingers in the air between you, heavy and unspoken. He doesn’t know what to say or how to navigate this. So he reaches for the one thing that’s been at the forefront of his mind since you pulled into his driveway.

"So, uh...the wedding." His voice is rough, uncertain. "It’s soon, right?"

You let out a dry scoff, shaking your head. "Not anymore."

Jake frowns confused. "What do you mean?"

You cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. There’s a moment of hesitation before you say it out loud. "I called it off."

The words hit him harder than they should. His fingers flex against his thigh, his pulse kicking up just slightly. He searches your face, trying to piece it together.

"Why?" he asks, voice quieter now.

You let out a breath, looking down at the ground. "Because it wasn’t right."

Jake watches you carefully. "Did he do something?" There’s an edge to his tone now,something protective, almost territorial, that he doesn’t even mean to let slip.

You shake your head. "No. He was...he is a good man." You look up then, meeting Jake’s gaze, and there’s something unreadable in your expression. "But he wasn’t you."

Jake just stares at you, completely floored. His mind races, trying to process what you just said. You still love him. After everything. After the years apart, the breakup, the almost marriage to someone else…you still love him.

Jake watches you, waiting, hoping, praying that this isn’t just some cruel dream that he's going to wake up from.

But then you take a shaky breath, and your eyes drop to the wooden porch beneath your feet. "Something happened when I got the call," you admit quietly.

Jake tenses, his stomach twisting. "What do you mean?"

You shift, wrapping your arms around yourself like you’re bracing for something. "I was with him. My fiancé." You hesitate, voice barely above a whisper. "We were at our bachelor and bachelorette party."

Jake sucks in a sharp breath, his jaw clenching. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as you force yourself to meet his gaze again.

"My phone rang. I saw the number, and I just…I knew it was about you." You let out a small, bitter laugh, shaking your head. "He asked me not to answer. Told me that whatever it was, it could wait. But I couldn’t do it, Jake. I couldn’t ignore it. Not when I knew it was about you. I knew that the Navy would only be calling for one thing. And that I needed to know if something had happened."

Jake’s chest tightens, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"That was the moment I knew," you whisper. "I couldn’t marry him. Because no matter how much I wanted to move on, no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I had—" You trail off, exhaling shakily. "I don't think I ever did."

Jake’s breath catches. His entire body aches, but nothing compares to the way his heart clenches at your words.

"Then let me be yours again." His voice is rough, pleading, desperate. "Please."

You stare at him, eyes wide, like you weren’t expecting him to say it. To fight for this.

Jake leans forward, wincing slightly from the pain still radiating through his ribs, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’re standing in front of him, looking at him like that, like part of you is still afraid to believe this is real.

"I lost you once," he says, voice raw. "And it damn near broke me. I’m not making that mistake again."

Your breath shudders as you exhale, and for a moment, neither of you speak. The air between you is thick with everything unsaid, years of heartbreak and longing hanging in the balance.

"Jake—" You hesitate, pressing your lips together like you’re trying to stop yourself from saying something you’ll regret. "I don’t know how to do this again."

"Then we figure it out together." His voice is steady this time, sure.

"I was so scared," you whisper, shaking your head. "When they called me, when I had to tell your mom-" You break off, inhaling sharply. "Jake, I thought—"

He doesn’t let you finish. He reaches out, his hand covering yours where it’s clenched into a fist against your side. Your fingers tremble under his touch but don’t pull away.

"I’m here," he murmurs, squeezing gently. "And I don’t want to waste any more time pretending like this doesn’t still mean something."

Your eyes search his, and he sees the war inside you, the part that’s still afraid to let him back in. But then, slowly, your fingers uncurl. You turn your hand over, letting your palm press against his.

"Okay," you whisper.

Jake exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, relief crashing over him.

"Okay," he echoes, squeezing your hand one more time before pulling you down onto the porch beside him.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. There's only the sound of the wind and the soft rustle of the trees around you. Then, without a word, Jake pulls you into his arms, his hold tight but gentle, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

You bury your face in his chest, the familiar scent of him grounding you in this moment, in a feeling you thought you lost. His arms tighten around you, and for the first time in a long time, you both breathe.

It’s like the world slows down, and in each other's arms, the years, the mistakes, the heartache fade into nothingness. There’s no need for words, no need for anything else. Just the comfort of being together again.

* * * * *

A few days later, things are still a bit new between you and Jake, but it feels right. You're taking it slow, giving each other the space to rediscover what you once had. Things are easier now, the awkwardness slowly slipping away as the days pass. Jake is at your place sitting on the couch while you make coffee in the kitchen. There’s a comfortable quiet between you, no pressure, just the two of you spending time together.

When you come back into the living room, he’s standing by the corner of the room, his fingers lightly brushing over the strings of your old guitar that’s resting in the corner.

"You still play?" he asks, his voice soft, almost like he’s unsure of how to approach it.

You give him a playful shrug, leaning against the doorframe. "Sometimes. Not as much as I used to."

Jake tilts his head, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "You take requests?" he teases, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You chuckle, the familiar feeling of teasing him making something warm stir inside you. "You think you’re funny, huh?"

You walk over, picking up the guitar, and sit down on the couch, strumming a few chords to warm up your fingers.

"What's your request?"

"Our song," Jake says, sitting down beside you, the familiar weight of his gaze on you.

Your heart skips at the words. You start to play, the chords coming back to you like second nature, the rhythm flowing through you like a memory you never quite forgot. The song, the one that’s always been yours and Jake's song, fills the space between you. And with every note you can feel something stirring again.

By the time you reach the last line of the song, your fingers move with a gentle certainty. It feels like this is the way it was always meant to be. The two of you here in this moment, coming back to what you never should have left behind.

When the last chord fades, Jake’s hand finds yours, his fingers gently curling around yours. He looks at you for a beat, and then without a word he leans in.

The kiss is slow, sweet, and soft, like everything that’s been building between you has finally found its way out. It’s not rushed, not desperate, but full of all the things you’ve both been holding back for too long. When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and you can’t help but smile.

"I missed this," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

"Me too," you say, heart full, the world around you fading away until there’s only Jake, and you, and the love you’re starting to believe in again.

#Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader #Spotify

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for-a-longlongtime · 22 hours ago

Text

Hey Anon, I saw your message this morning! 💜

You pointed out "Yall need to be careful of bi erasure" and linked to a post someone made about me. I appreciate the heads up! To be honest, I’m not concerned about people suggesting that I’m doing bi erasure. Whether it’s regarding Pedro characters in canon, head canons, or bisexuality in any other way. But hey, everybody can have their opinion about things, including what they think about me.

I dont talk much about myself here, but my tumblr bio has said from day 1 that I’m a bi woman. My master list mentions most of my fic “is queer (m/m, bi4bi, m/m/f, non-binary and trans characters)”. Folks who have read my fic know I've written pairings where every character is explicitly bi ( Frankie x f!reader x Santi; Peña x Rockford x OFC; Ezra x f!reader x Benny Miller, and WIPs with Joel and Marcus M, Frankie x f!reader x OFC and Maximus x Acacius x Lucilla).

Can bisexual people still do bi erasure? Sure!

Do I worry whether straight folks or other random folks online think I'm involved in bi erasure? Nahhh.

Anyway, I did make some posts the other day based on anons submitted to me about issues re: queer representation in this fandom. Let me just direct you to the several posts I made on that day, which started in response to a question about Renaldo:

"Was Renaldo Gay in the SNL sketch?? I've seen a lot of blogs saying he wasn't?". TL;DR version of my response: the ending of the song states "word to the wise, if you've got wives, hide them from the three bros!" suggesting that Renaldo, Domingo, and Santiago all hook up with women/wives. Considering Renaldo hooked up with Matthew, that probably makes him bisexual (and not the fact that he had Sophie, aka Sabrina's character, dancing up on him) - or queer, or someone who doesn't like to label himself. However, while 'hide your wives' works linguistically as a great punch line to wrap up the song, it does not refer to Renaldo's affair with Matthew (now that is bi erasure, if you wanna be exact), so I did point out that 'hide your spouses' would've been more accurate - but understandably, that's not as catchy. I'm currently writing a Renaldo x Matthew one shot, and I said my headcanon has Renaldo as gay - but that's my interpretation/hc/fic.

Someone wrote to me: Some blogs in the fandom is hellbent on taking away any attention away from anything mlm based with his characters anyway so it wouldn't matter in Renaldo was gay - someone would find a loophole to make him like women. TL;DR I agreed, because there are people who definitely do that. It became part of a longer thread of reblogs with some other folks in which we talked about how Pedro's mlm (men loving men) characters, such as Oberyn, Dieter and Silva in particular, either tend to be canonized primarily as bisexual by people but in fic are almost always paired with women (f!reader or OFCs). Which is fine, but people are definitely interested in seeing more m/m representation for those characters. Someone also brought up that when Pedro characters are paired with non-binary reader inserts or OC, it tends to be mostly afab!nb (or afab!trans characters), and that they were surprised that there weren't more amab!nb characters - that's a great point too.

I made a post with an anon message that pointed out "MLM includes bi, pan and queer men. They might like women. (And/or other genders, but they still like men)". Very correct!

Finally, there was an excellent long message from an anon saying "We need more representation of bi people in same-gender relationships represented" and that even in threesomes or throuples (fic) that include two men, there should ideally be more mlm representation. Once again, I fully agree. Everybody should write whatever they want, but I do often see threesomes that are listed as Pedro Character 1 x reader x Pedro Character 2, but in the fic it's more like reader having sex with two straight men at the same time while they're trying to not cross swords, rather than mlm being represented. THIS IS DEFINITELY CHANGING THOUGH: it's wonderful to see a big increase of mlm characters in threesomes/throuple fics over the past year!

So here is my main issue with a lot of people who are raging about 'bi erasure', and why I've made several posts about queerness within this fandom (not just recently, but from the start). Of course bisexual people exist (hello, it me, for one). Pull up some statistics if you want: there are a lot more folks who identify as bisexual than there are folks who identify as gay or lesbian. I'm an older millenial, so if you wanna talk about bi erasure: the measure in which it happens today is nothing compared to the bi erasure and deeply engrained homophobia we experienced in our teens and twenties from society at large. However:

🏳‍🌈 In your rush to point out bisexuals exist, you're shutting down a much broader dialogue with people within the LGBTQIA+ community. 🏳‍🌈

Because have you noticed how gay men, nonbinary/genderqueer fans, amab!trans or amab!nonbinary FANS (not fic characters; I'm talking actual people) are extremely underrepresented in this fandom? In addition to in fic? And that these fans won't have their fiction or actual posts shared all that much? Or that when they carefully speak up, e.g. about being happy to see Pedro portray Silva as a gay character, they're immediately rebuffed and called biphobic or that they're trying to erasure bisexuality?

Yeah. That part.

It's messed up.

Nobody is even making demands. Nobody is even saying "what writers are doing is wrong". They're just saying, "This is a bummer". And some of us are pointing out that mlm Pedro characters in m/m pairings are hard to come by, which is too bad because it's not only us queers who read m/m Pedro character pairings - there are lots of straight fans out there who have indicated they like reading that, too.

Are you gonna call that bi erasure? Or marginalization of women? Or anything really except for what it actually is? Fans are just saying "yknow, I wish there were more fans/fic characters/bodies in fic represented in this fandom that look and feel more like me". People seem to have finally understood that in varying degrees when this applies to body type or racial/cultural background (which took many white people a lot longer to fully grasp; BIPOC folks have been saying this for such a long time already) - it's about diversity and wanting to feel included. But when gay or transfolks say this about mlm, a whole bunch of y'all are crying bi erasure?

In short (and I can't believe I need to even fuckin' say this):

The Pedro fandom or its fic does NOT belong exclusively to women.

It does not belong to cis folks, to straight people, or any other particular group of people.

Aren't we all just trying to be a community? Then stop acting like people reading Silva or Renaldo (or any other character) as gay are erasing bisexuality - that's not the case or the damn point.

And anon-- my critique truly isn't directed at you, I'm not dragging you in any way. You took the effort to bring something to my attention, plus you clearly care about people, and I appreciate that a lot. But there are tons of people who don't dare to speak up about this in public settings, so I can't help but take this opportunity to not only clarify what I said earlier -- but also to address the bigger problem at large. Read or write all the gossip blogs you want, by all means, but maybe also consider using that time to actually connect with people.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #lgbtq #bisexuality #gay #queer #PPCU #PPCU fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #representation #afab!nb #amab!nb #afab!reader #amab!reader

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starpoweredv1b · 1 day ago

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HELLO!!! HI!!! YOU'RE ALIVE AND WELL :3!!!

This is not-freaky-anon speaking nonsensical 0 freaky stuff again :333 (I went through the horrors this week (sudden exams, my uncle literally died???, missed exams because I attended his funeral, etc etc) I think I'm well as long as I eat fish tbh) and I've come to u to give heavenly weird girl pussy ask!! (and to ask for the l&d angsty fwb ask I sent few weeks prior teehee)

So! Imagine this; you're the widely known weird girl, all nerdy and stupidly inept at socializing, staring at two old men not thirsting over them, but rejoicing upon old man yaoi (based on the 'viva el old man yaoi' pin I got :3). Your grades are average, surprisingly you survive at sincostan, you're absolutely hellish to interact with once someone mentioned the slightest hint of your interests, and you stare at men so pervertedly from behind your book it almost feels like sexual harassment and makes boys stop harassing girls because they've been through the ringer with your stares.

You're the type of girl who daydreams at the very back of the class, music blasting off of your earbuds to the point your deskmate could hear it, Mitski and beabadobee playing while you're awake and "Yummy"/"I'll do it" by Ayesha Erotica or "Government Hooker"/"Judas" by Lady Gaga playing while you're asleep.

The LLs are freaked the FUCK out. They're especially handsome in your eyes and you constantly ship them together. Lord knows if you have a smidgen of talent in drawing you would've been rich in name and in yaoi by now..

But your pussy is so, so, tight yet soft, all gummy-like and warm and it feels like melting into a puddle of oobleck and your moans are not helping and oh my fucking god he's addicted to this weird girl's pussy—

So while you're very, abhorrently strange, they can't let go of the heavenly weird girl cunt..

YES I AM!! also my condolences man please give yourself time and hydrate and eat well. love you not freaky anon 🫶

also i see this happening with Caleb and Zayne like my beloved moot @losermuse sent me this tweet about Caleb finding mc's fics about him and Zayne and how he'd be devastated LOL!! but if it's old man yaoi...the cannonically it would be Xavier and Sylus?? hm...

fujoshi cucks unite! (2)

tw. zayne x caleb, boys kissing :o, vaginal, oral, fujoshi reader

anyway, they'd literally be rearranging your guts. one from below and the other pumping down your throat. this had to be heaven! and as you're laying there watching two of the hottest men just grunting and whimpering on top of you, you'd pull away from Zayne's cock and flutter your teary lashes at them.

"could you both...maybe...uhm...kiss each other?"

you'd ask in the sweetest breathless voice, your chest heaving as Caleb continued to rock into you. you felt him stutter to a stop, panting and looking all confused. Zayne blinked, his face red as he caught his breath.

"why don't you stop talking weird, and keep your mouth here, hm? you were doing so well..."

Zayne murmurs, cock throbbing from how you were unintentionally edging him by talking and not sucking. his hands gently tugged your hair that he was holding in a fist to guide you back towards his leaky, spit slick cock. but typical you, pouting and blinking so cutely up at Caleb because you knew just when he'd tick (when he was all pussy drunk and worshipping every intake of breath that you take).

you watched as Caleb firmly pulls Zayne closer with one hanf, smashing their lips together with a soft moan. Zayne froze up, cock hardening even more from both shock and the unexpected passion of it. their tongues slid around in each other's mouth and you could've sworn you felt Caleb popping a second wind of a stiffy deep inside you. you moaned and slid Zayne's cock back into your snug throat. you watched with inceasing arousal as the two men made out sloppily on top of you, all while thrusting in sync. like you were nothing but a shared fleshlight that with maybe a bit more effort would allow their tips to touch in the soft of your stomach.

your moans and the feel of you teetering closer to the edge went almost entirely unheard as the two continued to kiss. their drool pooling at the dip of your stomach. it was the best seat ever in your opinion. you came with a muffled moan against zayne's cock, both of them stuttering and groaning into each other's mouth as they came inside.

you slowly pulled yourself away as they continued to make out, pullinh you in for a three people kiss. your fingers reach down to your sensitive clit, rubbing it yourself since the two were too busy jerking each other off. wanting to cover your pretty pussy lips with both their cum. team effort style, or however the saying goes. no complaints of course.

after all, you were living the fujoshi cuckquean dream.

#☆.thirsts #☆.not freaky anon #lads zayne #lads caleb #caleb love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #caleb x reader x zayne #caleb x zayne #caleb x reader #zayne x reader #tw.nsfw

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andreilslovechild · 2 days ago

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A Study on Aaron Minyard and Hatred

I've been in this fandom for years now. somewhere around 5 years or so. and since I've been here there's always been a distinct theme in how people talk about the brother of our beloved main love interest. see people speak about aaron in two ways mainly. the first way is, of course, labeling him as hateful and homophobic and disliking him because he dislikes Neil. the second way is building on his more personable characteristics and having him paired with someone else like Katelyn or Kevin to mellow him out. both of those are all well and good, everyone is entitled to their opinions and all, but I've never quite seen people look at both of those sides at the same time so I want to try and consolidate my thoughts on the matter.

first of all, I personally rarely consider aaron inherently hateful in my own understanding of him. annoyed or disgusted sure, but not necessarily hateful. mainly that hate is focused on three people from what the fandom talks about: Neil, Andrew, and Nicky. I'm using hate a broad term for dislike just for the ease of things right now so don't yell at me, but I think it fair to say the fandom typically pits these three up against aaron in a way that makes aaron look like the bad guy a lot of the time.

if I'm honest, I never really felt he hated Neil more than just didn't care much. at least until he found out about him and Andrew and gave him his version of the shovel talk. maybe a bit when Neil used Katelyn against him. but overall I never quite got it when people said he hated Neil, let alone hated him for "no reason". like id be annoyed too if a guy waltzed onto my college sports team while im studying premed, and turned out to be the long-lost son of a serial killer with a mouth so big it was a wonder hes still alive. plus he was super shady before all that was revealed too, but aaron was still pretty neutral when Andrew brought Neil into the monsters. he even spoke back to the upperclassmen when they freaked out about Neil sitting with the monsters. if you all need me to get the quotes I will, but it's currently like 2am, and I just can't be asked right now lmao. either way, the only time aaron really hates Neil in the books is when he uses Kate against him to get him to go to therapy. which was done for his own good in the long run, and I doubt aaron stayed upset about it for too long. plus we always have to be careful here because we are seeing things from Neil's perspective, someone who is inherently an unreliable narrator in the story.

in Nicky's case, there's a lot to consider. aaron definitely does and says some things (again not finding specifics rn because it's 2am) that are hurtful to him, or offensive. I certainly don't really blame people for reading it as homophobic on a surface level. but that's exactly what it is. surface level. his feelings about Nicky are probably the second most complex in this instance. because Nicky is his cousin, caregiver, friend, whatever you want to call him. They're close, they mean something to each other. but aaron also grew up with Tilda, probably talking with his family over the phone every few months, seeing them maybe once a year or two. when aaron moved to South Carolina he was 13. Nicky would have been 17. aaron probably spent a lot of time with him at first to avoid being alone before he made friends himself. used him as an excuse to get out of being around Tilda alone. which undoubtedly left him susceptible to Luther's preaching. I could make a whole other post on this alone. Still, he would have known Nicky was gay and that it was "wrong". He likely saw only his mask, not the depression inside because Nicky would have wanted to be happy with his cousin. he probably was around when Nicky went to Germany and then came back loud and proud, telling him about a man named Erik and finally standing up to his parents. to us, it's inspirational, exciting even, but for aaron it was like Nicky was abandoning him. He had gotten through Nicky being gone with drugs and staying out of the house as much as possible, but now knowing Nicky was leaving him there alone with his mom for what he assumed would be forever would have hit him hard. he never hated Nicky for being gay. he was angry he had left him, and he had grown up surrounded by the ideals Luther preached and likely his mom did too. with that, plus how uncomfortable it would be to have your cousin being openly sexual around you to an extreme extent like Nicky, I don't blame him really for how he reacted. he was disgusted by the thought of his cousin having sex, not who it was with. I can't remember if his disliking Erik is a canon or fanon thing. Still, he disliked him for taking Nicky away, not because he was a guy. Long story short I don't think aaron ever truly hated Nicky or was truly homophobic. I think he was just a scared kid who learned the wrong words and didn't know how to be vulnerable.

Andrew. good old Andrew. the most complicated relationship in Aaron's life save maybe his mom. I think we all know aaron doesn't hate Andrew. just like Andrew doesn't hate aaron. it's impossible for them to hate each other because they are so irrevocably tangled up and tied to each other's lives. from the second they found out about each other, everything they've done has been for the other in some way. mostly on Andrew's end sure but aaron has also done his share. see out of everyone here I think Andrew is the person that aaron thought he hated the most. he was angry about Tilda, about the drugs, about how Andrew refused to look at him. but deep down he knew he couldn't really hate Andrew. if he truly hated him he wouldn't have stuck around him this long to try and form a relationship with him. he wouldn't have bothered renewing their deal after graduating high school. he may have been stubborn and confusing and made aaron want to pull his hair out in frustration, but I don't think hatred for Andrew truly existed in him. For certain actions maybe, but him overall? definitely not.

Aaron Minyard may have been complicated, cranky, and annoyed for the majority of the times we see him, but he never truly hated anyone. not in the way people seem to think at least. and certainly, never the three people hes accused of hating the most.

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moonzzip · 3 days ago

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my song for you | prologue

a/n — I decided to make this mini-series in celebration of g-d's new album (and due to the lack of new stories these days), I've been busy and that's why I haven't been releasing any more stories, but I hope you like this one, I'll release the next chapter soon!

summary: your passion for music has always been something that kept you grounded, but soon you found yourself lost. your friend gets you into trouble, and you wonder if your wounds will ever heal.

pairing: jiyong x pianist!gn!reader

!warnings: mention of toxic family, bruises, blood, fainting

lowercase letters, w.c: 2,1k

nothing. nothing comes to your mind, nothing.

you play, play, and play the keys, but nothing forms.

the sound is empty, the melody is empty, the notes are empty, everything, absolutely everything is empty.

none of the forms give you feeling, never satisfied with what you're doing.

everything is bad, everything sounds bad, you don't feel like you're doing it right, nothing seems right.

your hands tremble, your fists want to clench, false notes, off-key sounds, your finger clicked the wrong key, your foot stepped wrong, you missed by a millisecond, you played two at the same time, you played none.

and you stop.

your breath is tired, frustrated, disgusted, agonized. your soul feels broken and empty, lonely.

that song that once made you happy no longer fills you.

you've been playing the piano for as long as you can remember. your family is a great pianist family, so you always had this obligation to know how to play. everyone in the family was considered a prodigy.

but not you.

you were slower compared to your cousins, took longer to understand compared to your aunts when they were children, didn't have the motor coordination of your mother or the speed of your father.

you were incomplete.

the scars on the top of your hand say it all, every little scratch, purple mark, dripping blood, silenced scream, cry, and sweat.

even so, you never felt anger toward them, your family.

much less hatred for the piano.

it was an object, it wasn’t its fault.

it wasn’t the piano that made your blood run, it wasn’t the piano that made your tears fall.

you used the piano as an escape, despite it having brought you misery.

anger rises to your head, your fists finally clench completely and begin to strike the instrument fiercely, horrible sounds coming out due to the aggression on the black and white keys, your screams scratch your throat, your body sore and tired, your mind full, yet empty at the same time, too messy, your already dried tears no longer fall.

you continue the attack for a while, until exhaustion almost wins.

you bite your lips so hard they bleed, your head tilts back, the blood running down your lips, your vision blurs, and your body falls back, staring at the ceiling as you let out a sigh, and everything goes dark.

your feet walk along the crowded sidewalk, your hands in furry, warm gloves, looking at your feet but still seeing ahead to avoid bumping into someone.

you stop at the edge of the sidewalk, now looking up, the cars passing at high speed, countless people on the other side and beside you. you sigh, hiding your face in your warm scarf, your eyes catching the large sign meters away from you: ‘galaxy corporation,’ and you sigh again.

what was your friend thinking? he called you out of nowhere, saying he needed you to come to the company where he works because it was urgent. what the hell could be so urgent that he needed your help? nothing comes to mind. your day had been going so well, you had slept reasonably well, and it was cold enough to stay under the blankets for as long as you wanted. just thinking about it makes you yawn, stretching your back, hearing a small crack, and adjusting your clothes, brushing off invisible dust.

well, here goes nothing.

the door opens automatically, the warm air hitting your face. you breathe in satisfaction and step inside—it’s well-lit and spacious—the door closes behind you. you take off your scarf and store it in your bag. there aren't many people, a small group and some scattered around, but nothing beyond that.

you wonder if your friend is waiting for you down here. you look around but decide to go to the reception.

“ah... excuse me?” the receptionist looks up and gives you a small but still gentle smile.

“hello! how can I help you?”

you try to return the smile, but it feels awkward, so you continue, “mr. kim jonghoon called me and asked me to come. could you check if he’s here?”

you could just call him, but this isn’t the first time jonghoon has called you out of nowhere saying he has something important to say, only to disappear when you try to call back. you’re not in the mood to waste your phone credits on him.

“ah! kim jonghoon-ssi? just a moment.”

you watch her pick up the fancy black phone and dial some numbers. it rings, and jonghoon answers almost instantly.

that bastard. he knew you wouldn’t come if he kept answering and responding to your questions. this man is getting too clever for your liking. you roll your eyes internally.

the receptionist is smiling like an idiot on the phone. jonghoon has a habit of flirting with people, but he could do that another time.

the sound of the phone being placed back on the receiver pulls you from your thoughts.

“he is in the building, yes. he’ll be here soon, please wait patiently.”

it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.

you look around and see an empty armchair nearby. it looks comfortable, so you sit down. you wonder if he’ll take long, then pull out your phone, looking for something to do.

ah... you should have downloaded some games.

would it be rude to put on your headphones? you think about it but take them out anyway, connecting them via bluetooth. you scroll through your spotify, maybe something by bigbang? lots of options, your finger hovers over a few, clicks one, skips, until you find one.

‘my heaven’ appears on your screen. ah... this song is so good. you remember watching the m/v when you were younger. you used to follow the group more closely. they were your inspiration to play that... thing. after a while, you just gave up on music altogether.

you sigh, looking at your hands, the scars hidden beneath the gloves, running from your elbows to your fingertips.

hours and hours, endlessly playing that thing, until your nails broke and your fingers formed calluses, or until you passed out. most times, that’s how it went.that leather whip was used on your delicate little hands, mercilessly, without pause.

you had always been a well-behaved child, never complained, never gave a reason for such methods to be used, but apparently, your difficulty in learning was reason enough.

always put down, always compared to everyone in your family—

"your aunt learned this in three days."

"your sister wouldn’t make a mistake like that."

"you never get this right on the first try. useless."

things like that.jonghoon only knows the surface. you never had the courage to give him many details, and you don’t plan to.

he understands. he never crosses that line, and that’s it.

you played so much, so much, participated in so many projects nonstop, took courses, tests, competitions, but never received a 'congratulations', never an applause. it was as if you were performing for no one.

but you never complained. as long as you liked playing, nothing could affect you.

until it did.

your thoughts are once again interrupted by a light kick to your shoe. it’s jonghoon.

(internally, you thank him for pulling you out of those thoughts.)

“hey, ___!”, he greets you excitedly.you look at him blankly before putting him in a headlock, muttering angrily,

“you bastard. you call me in the middle of the night, say it’s important, then ignore me? you know I have no patience for this, and you call me at 3 AM?? I’m going to kill you, kim jonghoon.”

he knows you’re really mad when you say his full name.

“a-ah, _-__, I can’t talk—”

you tighten your grip.

“your silence is starting to please me, jonghoon. you in a coffin would be even better.”

he taps your arm, and you loosen slightly.

“i-if you let me g-go, I c-can talk.”

you click your tongue and release him, crossing your arms.

“speak. before I change my mind and leave.”

he knows you’re not joking, so he hurries.

“so... I kind of... signed you up for a temporary job... playing piano for an artist’s production here.”

kim jonghoon was a dead man that day.

...or so you wish.

but here you were, sitting at a table with your friend in front of you. he bought you lunch, so you forgave him—temporarily. two days, you told him.

"jonghoon, you know i haven't played in three years. what the hell were you thinking!?" your voice rose slightly, laced with disappointment, and you didn’t hide it.

he lowered his head a bit, knowing what he did wasn’t right. "sorry, ___… i just wanted to help. seeing you in the same situation as three years ago makes me anxious. i hate seeing you like that at home, and—"

letting out a frustrated sigh, you ran your hands through your hair, elbows resting on the table. "this is something i'm working on, jonghoon. i know you want to help, but—" you stared at the table, eyes slowly filling with tears.

"it’s not something that heals just like that... i hate the piano. i hate my music. i hate my family. and i hate hating these things."

the man in front of you stood up and walked over, gently running his fingers through your hair. "look… i know what i did was wrong, but ___…"

he hesitated, and you looked up at him. "i know you don’t actually hate the piano. i know you don’t truly hate your music. it’s what lifted you out of where you were, ___. don’t say that, please."

you looked at him, anger flashing in your eyes. "kim jonghoon, don’t talk about things you don’t understand."

you stood from your chair, grabbing your things. "sometimes, you're just like them. you try to dictate how i feel. you don’t know anything. you shouldn’t have done this, and you know it."

you walked toward the door, ready to leave. "i’m not completely mad. i get that you want to help, but… just leave me alone. for a while."

just before you reached for the handle, the large door swung open. you took a few steps back as a man entered.

his colorful hair, cap with a scarf tied over it, yellow-tinted glasses, vibrant clothes, and perfectly painted nails made him stand out. he brought color into the dull, lifeless room—like a stylish rainbow.

jonghoon perked up, walking over to the man.

"jiyong-ssi! hey, how are you!?" he greeted the man enthusiastically, who smiled at him and bowed at a precise 90-degree angle.

"jonghoon-ssi, hello. i'm doing well. and you?" his voice was calm and deep, slightly raspy but steady. the more energetic man simply smiled and nodded in agreement.

you stood with your hands in your pockets, feeling a little out of place, glancing around.

the man with colorful hair noticed you in the room and fidgeted with his hands slightly but still greeted you. "you must be ___-ssi, right?"

you nodded with a small ‘yes’ and bowed at 90 degrees as well, polite. the man in front of you did the same. "i'm kwon jiyong. nice to meet you. i heard you’ve been playing piano for years—i’m interested in your work."

you stared at him for a few seconds, but before you could respond, jonghoon cut in. "ahh, ___ is definitely interested, jiyong-ssi! i told them about the job, and they rushed right over—you can trust me on this."

giving your friend a deadly glare, he continued undeterred. "the absolute best pianist in the world is standing right in front of you! i’ve never seen anyone like them—pure dedication! the music that comes from ___'s fingers takes me to heaven, seriously!"

you rolled your eyes at jonghoon’s exaggerated praises but stayed silent. he wasn’t going to give up on making you play again. you didn’t know how to feel about it—grateful or incredibly frustrated.

the more energetic man pulled you and jiyong by the arms, making you both sit at the table as he started talking.

"___, jiyong-ssi recently started producing his third solo album, something highly anticipated by his fans, of course. it’s not every day that g-dragon releases an album, and—"

ah.that’s why kwon jiyong seemed familiar to you.

the man sitting beside you was g-dragon.

you put your elbows on the table and buried your head in your hands.

what the hell had you gotten yourself into?

a/n – so, I wrote this while listening to gd’s ‘drama’, seriously, what a wonderful album, where I live it came out at 2 in the morning, but I woke up to listen to it, I don’t regret it one bit, thank you for the wonderful album gd, I have no complaints (and never have). thanks for reading! I’ll release part one soon, I think it will have at most 3 parts (not counting the prologue), but I can’t guarantee anything. feel free to correct any mistakes!

#g dragon #bigbang gdragon #bigbang x reader #gdragon x reader #jiyong x reader #kpop #gn!reader #kwon jiyong #G dragon x reader

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livingdreams97 · 1 day ago

Text

Jackie Taylor -- "Our Destiny" (Part 1)

Jackie Taylor x Male reader/oc

Summary: What happens when a plane crashes in the middle of the Canadian Wilderness full of teenagers? How something as traumatic as that can affect the people and and how they find comfort in each other.

Words: 6.190

Masterlist

(For the reader I thought of Wolfgang Novogratz, but everyone can imagine reader how they want.)

_________1996__________

Your POV

I drop the pieces of firewood I've collected into the pile on the ground and sit down on the stump to rest for a bit. I've spent the last three hours walking between the woods and the cabin collecting firewood non-stop, and I need a break.

From my vantage point, I can see what some of the girls are doing and I sit there for a moment watching them. Things are a bit tense lately, some of the girls are acting a bit weird and especially Lottie.

After what happened at the Seance a few weeks ago, I've noticed that Lottie has been a bit quieter, more withdrawn and distracted, as if she were in her own world.

This worries me a lot, because I don't know if her behavior could be due to the lack of medication or something else. It's the first time since she was diagnosed that she has gone so long without taking her medication and I don't know what the consequences of this could be.

Taissa: Hey.- she greets me standing next to me. -I've been thinking about something and I want to know if you'd like to join me.- she tells me and I focus my gaze on her.

Y/n: Hey.- I greeted back looking at her with curiosity. -Should I be afraid of what you thought?- I asked her with a certain humor.

Taissa: Considering you're scared of bees... - she mocks me with a big smile.

Y/n: I'm not afraid of bees, I'm allergic to them, ALLERGIC and I could die if they sting me. - I reproach her with an offended grimace.

Taissa: Whatever.- she dismisses me with her hand and a smile. - I've been thinking and I realise we should get out of here in search of help or something to eat. It's possible that the animals are migrating or that there's someone out there.- she tells me and I look at her a bit skeptically.

Y/n: I don't know Tai, if there was someone they would have appeared a long time ago from the noise the plane made against the ground.- I comment somewhat unsure.

Taissa: But what if there is someone or a small town far away enough so that they didn't hear the accident? - she tells me with some confidence. - What if there is a small town or a cabin like this one a few days walk away with people who can help us? - she hypothesizes with a small smile.

Y/n: And if there isn't one? - I ask trying to be realistic, since even with her approach the radius that the noise of the accident would had reached, is very extensive.

Taissa: And if there isn't, maybe we can find animals or something to bring back to camp.- she insists with a confident gesture.

Y/n: I don't know Tai.- I deny getting up from the stump. -I can't just get up and leave Lottie here.- I sigh looking towards where the mentioned one is.

Taissa: Lottie is old enough for you to keep an eye on her.- she assures me, crossing her arms.

Y/n: Are you going to tell me that you haven't noticed a differece in her? - I ask her, focusing my attention back on her.

Taissa: Different? More like a little disturbed.- she comments and I look at her badly, making her throw her hands in the air. -Sorry, it was a joke.- she apologizes immediately. -But still, it's not your responsibility.- she assures me placing a hand on my shoulder.

Y/n: She's my twin sister, of course she's my responsibility.- I remind her with a grimace. -I can't just leave her here for I don't know how many days.- I deny letting out a tired sigh.

Taissa: But you're not leaving her because you want to, but because we're going to go find help or food for everyone. This way you're going to help her a lot more than being behind her all day and worrying about everything she does or says. - she assures me with a slight smile and letting her squeeze my shoulder.

Y/n: I'm not sure.- I murmur trying to think of what is the most appropriate thing to do.

Taissa: Give it a tought and tell me.- she tells me in a calm voice.

We both stand in silence for a few seconds, before a commotion comes from the front of the cabin and out of the woods appear Travis and Nat with a dead deer.

Van: Meat, Fuck Yeah! -she exclaims excitedly as she passes by us quickly.

We all immediately approached them, happy that they were able to hunt and that we could eat something other than belt soup.

Van: Wow, that thing is knarly.- she says when both hunters pass by her and she sees the deer's antlers.

Akilah: It's like Freddy Krueger and Bambi had a baby.- she comments with some disgust when they leave the deer on the ground.

Javi: I'm not eating that.-he immediately denies looking at the dead animal.

Ben: Guys, relax.- asks the trainer approaching the deer. -Deer shed their antlers every season. This is normal.- he explains calmly. -Shauna, do the honors?- he asks her, his breathing a little labored from the effort.

Shauna quickly takes the knife out of her backpack, approaches the deer and begins to open its stomach to empty it.

As soon as she opens its stomach, we can all see the worms moving through the deer's organs and I have to look away to avoid throwing up.

Jackie: That's normal too, Coach? - she asks with a disgusted gesture.

Lottie: I'm not crazy.-I hear her mutter in front of me on her knees on the floor.

Laura Lee: No.-she denies in a whisper. -You have a gift.-she assures me and I open my eyes scared at her answer.

Taissa: We cannot keep fucking doing this, you guys.- she assures moving to the side. -What happens when winter gets here? We fucking starve to death or freeze?- she says, upset by the situation. -We can't count on getting rescued anymore. All of us know that is not going to happen, we have to save us.- she says confidently. -That's why I'm gonna go find help. I'm leaving in the morning, come with me if you want to get out of this fucking hellhole. - says as she walks safely into the cabin.

I just stay silent for a few moments, before sighing and walking towards the lake to be alone for a while.

I need to think about what I have to do and it will be impossible to do so near the abaña and the girls. So I walk calmly through the forest, thinking about the pros and cons of going with Taissa or staying with the rest.

Once at the lake, I sit on the shore on the stones and watch the slight movement of the water.

I don't know how long I spend staring at the water, until I hear footsteps behind me and when I look over my shoulder I see Jackie holding a bucket.

Jackie: Hey.- she greets me tiredly, walking towards the shore and filling the bucket with water.

Y/n: Hey.- I greet back watching as she puts the bucket aside and sits next to me. -Do you think Taissa's idea is crazy?- I ask her after a few seconds of silence.

Jackie: I don't know.- she answers with a sigh. -What I do know is that in a certain way she's right and that scares me.- she tells me in a low voice.

Y/n: Is the great captain Jackie Taylor afraid of something? - I asked with humor and receiving a slap on the arm from her.

Jackie: Idiot.- she insults me while laughing and I look at her with a proud smile for making her laugh.

Since the accident, I have noticed that Jackie is the one who is having the most difficulty adapting to the situation and that her mood is increasingly sad.

She is the one who has always been sure that they would come to rescue us and I have realized that with each passing day, that hope of being rescued is disappearing more and more from her eyes.

Y/n: Now seriously, you're afraid that they won't rescue us, right? - I ask her softly.

Jackie: It's been months and still no one has shown up.- she answers me with some apprehension in her voice.

Y/n: That doesn't mean they aren't looking for us.- I tell her to try to cheer her up a little.

Jackie: No, but it doesn't mean they'll find us either.- she whispers, placing her knees against her chest and her chin on them. -We both know that with each day that passes without them finding us, the probability that they'll stop looking for us and leave us for dead increases.- she explains to me with some fear and sadness in her voice.

I sigh with some sadness at her words, because in a way she is right and I don't want to think about it.

I approach the soccer captain, standing just a few inches away from her body and placing my hand on her lower back and moving it in circles to try to comfort her.

She leans into me and places her head on my shoulder relaxing her body against mine.

Y/n: They will find us, I promise.- I whisper against her head, resting my forehead on it. -But I need you to promise me something.- I ask her, swallowing hard.

Jackie: What? - she whispers, getting closer to my body and hugging me around my waist.

Y/n: Promise me that you will take care of Lottie when I'm not here.- I ask her with some fear that the madness I'm doing is permanent.

Jackie: What are you talking about? - she asks me, separating from me and looking at me with concern.

Y/n: I'm going to go with Tai.- I answer and she immediately shakes her head.

Jackie: You can't go, you can't, not you.- she tells me with some panic.

Y/n: I have to do it.- I assure her, looking her in the eyes. -I have to try, Lottie is not well and we can't continue like this much longer. The least I can do is try and seek help.- I explain to her with apprehension about the situation.

Jackie: But what if it doesn't work out? If some wild animal appears, or you guys get lost and can't get back, or any of the thousands of other things that could happen? - she asks me worriedly, waving her hands in an exaggerated manner.

Y/n: Nothing is going to happen.- I assure her, grabbing her hands and trying to calm her down. -The worst that could happen is that we don't find anything and we have to come back empty handed.- I explain to convince her.

Jackie: But what if...- she continues with the possibilities but I interrupt her before she can say anything else.

Y/n: Nothing is going to happen.- I tell her confidently and without taking my gaze off hers.

Jackie: Nothing is going to happen.- she repeats, nodding her head and looking me straight in the eyes.

We stay a few more moments looking into each other's eyes, before she puts her head back on my shoulder and hugs me tightly around the waist.

I put my arms around her shoulders, resting my head on hers and letting the sound of the lake be the only thing that can be heard.

Jackie's POV

It's been two and a half days since Akilah, Van, Taissa, Misty, Y/n and Mari went out in search of something.

As I promised Y/n, I've been keeping an eye on Lottie and talking to her at least a couple of times a day, to see how she's doing.

I try to ask her simple questions, so she doesn't feel like I'm interrogating her and get defensive.

But at most ,she will lose focus during the conversation and stare off into the distance for a few moments before continuing with the conversation like nothing. Which is not entirely worrying.

Plus, she and Laura Lee spend all day together, so it gives me some peace of mind that at least she's not out in the woods alone.

On the other hand, I have discovered that my best friend, the person in whom I had complete trust, has lied to me and betrayed me in the worst possible way.

Our entire friendship based on sincerity and trust has been a farce.

I knew something wasn't right the moment she told me her story with Randy and how she got pregnant.

If what she told me about losing her virginity at Mari's birthday party were to be true, she would have told me as soon as it happened. But she didn't and the biggest lie is that Jeff and I took drunk Randy home that night.

So it couldn't have been after we left and it couldn't have been before either, since Shauna was with me, Jeff and some of her friends all night.

But I didn't know that the reason for her lie and the person she actually slept with was my boyfriend.

My best friend has betrayed me in the worst way possible and has slept with my boyfriend. Also, in her diary are written all the times they did it and it wasn't just once, it was several times.

I don't know how she could do this to me, sleep with my own boyfriend and then get pregnant by him. How could she do this to me. How can she look at me in the eyes and lie in my face with no trace of guilt.

I don't even know how to look at her face without imagining them together, without feeling betrayed and imagining everything else she could have lied to me about.

I quickly get up from my chair when I see Misty, Mari and Akilah appearing through the forest, almost out of breath.

Jackie: Oh, my god. What happened?- I ask them, walking quickly and holding Misty before she fell to the ground.

Shauna: Where are Van, Tai and Y/n? -she asks, also getting up from her chair.

Misty: She...she told...she told us to leave them. We had to get help.-she tells us as best she can between breaths and Nat and Shauna grab her.

Lottie: Where is Y/n?-she asks Mari with a certain panic in her voice.

Laura Lee: Show us which way to go.- she asks her, grabbing her by the shoulders and staring at her.

Misty points to the path they came from and we all quickly set off.

We run quickly, following the instructions and directions given to us by Misty, who is at the head of everyone.

After running for a while, the darkness begins to hide everything around us and we decide that the best thing to do is to walk. So, lighting some lanterns, we walk quickly, looking everywhere.

Shauna: Van! - she shouts from in front of me.

Laura Lee: Taissa!- she shouts loudly from the front of the group.

Lottie: Y/n!- she shouts from behind me with obvious concern.

Laura Lee: Are you sure you came this way? -she asks the one leading us through the darkness.

Misty: I.. I don't know. I can't see anything.- she answers with uncertainty in her voice. -It's so dark.-she says looking around.

We stopped for a few seconds to catch our breath and looked around for something to guide us. It was then that we heard a noise and saw one of the flares rising between the trees.

Laura Lee: It's them.-she points with her finger and we quickly start running in that direction.

We run for a couple of minutes between the trees, immediately spotting the three of them on their knees on the ground and looking very bad.

Lottie: Y/n!- she exclaims, running towards her brother and kneeling next to him on the ground.

When we get closer we can see why the urgency, as Van has her face covered with rags and we can see the blood on her clothes. As can the pale color on Taissa and Y/n's faces.

We set off immediately, with most of the girls carrying Van, Misty and Laura Lee helping Tai, and Lotti and I carrying her brother.

As I help him up from the floor, I place a hand on his side and feel something cold and wet against my palm.

I raise my hand to my face, feeling my heart racing in my ears and my throat feeling dry as I swallow. I open my eyes, startled, when I make out the reddish color of blood in the light from the lanterns.

Jackie: Y/n.- I murmur scared seeing the boy's pale and sweaty face.

Misty: We have to get them there as soon as possible so we can stitch up their wounds.- she says hurriedly, encouraging us to walk as quickly as possible to the cabin.

So as quickly as possible, we managed to get to the cabin in record time and the girls got going.

Misty: Who goes first? - she asks as they clear the table, place candles around it, and Akilah searches for the materials.

Y/n: Van has to go first.- he answers in a low voice. -She is worse than me, I can hold on.- he assures the group with a small grimace.

Shauna: Van, are you ready? - she asks as they lay her down on the candlelit table.

The redhead lets out a grunt of pain, as Lottie and I place Y/n into one of the chairs.

Misty: We have to take off his clothes from the waist up. - She approaches us and reaches out her hands to do it.

Jackie: No.- I stop her immediately. -Lottie and I will do it.- I assure her, standing in front of her so she doesn't come any closer.

Misty: With the shirt you will have to press the wound to stop it from bleeding further.- she explains to me and I nod knowing what I have to do.

I turn towards the injured boy, approaching with uncertain steps and observing him in more detail thanks to the light from the cabin.

The black haired man, his green eyes are half-closed due to tiredness, has lost all the color in his face, you can see the sweat soaking his face and the locks of hair that are normally pushed back are stuck to his forehead.

On the other hand, the blue t-shirt and the grey sweatshirt are covered in dirt and blood, as are his jeans.

I quickly approach him, aware that he is not in a very good condition and that every minute is worth gold.

Lottie: You're going to be okay.- she whispers, stroking his hair. -Nothing's going to happen to you, It won't let anything happen to you.- she assures him with conviction and I look at her a little scared by the tone in which she is saying it.

Jackie: Lottie, help me take off his clothes.- I ask my teammate in a hurry.

Y/n: Damm Jackie, I knew you had the hots for me. - he scoffs with sense of humor, letting out a grunt when we move him to take off his sweatshirt.

Jackie: In your dreams.- I tell him with a slight smile, to try to ease the tension and play along.

When we managed to remove his shirt, you can see the wound on his side and it doesn't look good at all.

You can see the wolf's teeth and the cuts they left behind. There are at least five long cuts and about seven fairly large perforations on the side of his stomach and back.

You can see the blood gushing from the wounds and I have to hold back my gagging at the image.

Jackie: This is going to hurt.- I whispered softly, before placing his shirt over the wounds and pressing with both hands to stop the bleeding.

Y/n: Fuck.- he grunts in pain trying to get away from my hands.

Jackie: Lottie hold him.- I ask her, making her grab him by the shoulders and hold him still.

I press my hands against the wounds again and this time thanks to Lottie, Y/n doesn't get away from my hands no matter how hard he tries.

But Lottie's strength is affected when Akilah starts stitching Van up and she starts to let out pain-filled grunts.

The brunette immediately sits on the floor, placing her knees against her chest and covering her ears with the palms of her hands.

Y/n: Lot, don't listen.- he growls trying to get his sister's attention. -Lot, look at me.- he stretches his hands towards her with great effort. -Charlotte Matthews look at me right now.- he orders her and she surprisingly does it. -Come closer.- he asks her with a sigh.

Lottie walks over to her brother and he immediately pulls her close to his body. As I apply pressure to his wound, I can hear him whispering things to his sister to reassure her and distract her from what's happening on the other side of the room.

But after a few moments, I stop hearing the whispers from Y/n and I look at his closed eyes.

Jackie: Shit! - I exclaimed scared, stopping pressing on the wound and grabbing his cheeks. -Y/n, wake up. Keep your eyes open, wake up! - I exclaimed hitting him on the cheek trying to get him to react but nothing.

Lottie: Y/n.- she whispers, separating herself from her brother's thigh and looking at him scared. -It's not your turn.- she murmurs confused, placing her hand on her brother's bare chest.

Jackie: Girls hurry up, Y/n has lost consciousness! - I shout for them to hear me, without stopping hitting the boy's cheeks and trying to wake him up.

Natalie: Don't fuck with me.- she growls when she reaches us and takes his pulse. -Does anyone else know how to sew?- she asks the girls with some panic.

Misty: Me! - she exclaims quickly raising her hand.

I look at Nat, a little unsure and worried that Misty will stitch up Y/n's wound and I can see that she feels the same as me.

Natalie: We have no choice.- she murmurs, looking at me with apprehension. -Misty, grab a needle and thread quickly. We'll put him on the floor.- she says, grabbing him by one of his arms.

I do the same and with Lottie's help we get him on the ground as quickly as possible.

Misty: I have everything.- she tells us, throwing herself on her knees beside us. -I need more light.- she tells us while she begins to put the thread on the curved needle for fishing.

Nat: I'm going to get more candles.- she says getting up and I do the same with her.

We both grab some candles and run back to where Y/n, Lottie and Misty are. We place the candles on the ground near the wound, lighting them so Misty can see what she's stitching.

I swallow hard, feeling my hands shake from fear and worry that Y/n will die.

I move to the other side of Misty, kneeling at his hip and grabbing his hand. I bring the hand to my chest, praying that Misty will stitch him up quickly so that the bleeding stops and he can survive.

Your POV

I pull the chair over next to Jackie's and sit down a bit carefully, trying not to let the stitches pull too hard. But I can't help but let out a little grunt as I lean forward and take my share of the bear meat.

Jackie: Are you okay? - she asks me in a whisper, placing her hand on my thigh and leaving a light squeeze there.

Y/n: Yeah, I just moved too fast.- I play it down with a smile and she returns it.

She also leans forward and receives her plate with her ration from the redhead, while the others talk about whether we should wait for Nat and Travis or not.

Van: Lottie, last night you said we wouldn't be hungry much longer. How did you know? -she asks my sister and I feel my body tense immediately.

Everything that happened last night was absolutely crazy and I don't know what the hell went through their heads to make them act the way they did.

Because the mushroom excuse doesn't work for me, since we're all supposed to have eaten them and not all of us tried to sacrifice Travis. Especially not with the way my own sister, Shauna, and Mari jumped on me when I came down from the attic with Jackie, before Travis showed up completely out of it and they jumped on him immediately.

Lottie: I just did.-she answers, chewing what she has in her mouth.

Y/n: She didn't know anything, it was pure coincidence, okay? - I say seriously and avoiding looking at my sister at all costs.

Jackie: Yeah, it's called getting lucky.- she supports me, giving my thigh another squeeze. - The bear probably just smelled us and came looking for food, okay? Probably had something wrong with him. - she says in a logical way to take a bite of her meat.

Misty: It didn't look sick.-she denies sitting to my right.

Mari: Honestly, at this point I don't even think I care.- she says sitting at the table. -Can we just eat?- she asks, wanting to leave the subject aside.

Van: Wait.- she asks, drawing everyone's attention. -Should we maybe... say something? Like... like thanks or grace or.. whatever- she asks, somewhat unsure.

The dining room falls completely silent for a few moments, during which no one knows what to say or how to act in response to the question.

Taissa: Yeah.-she nods, leaving her glass on the table. -Just make it quick.-she asks her girlfriend and I can't help the frustrated grunt that escapes me.

Van: Lot?- she asks my sister and I can only roll my eyes and continue eating.

Lottie: Sure, let's join our hands.-she says leaving her ration aside and shaking hands with the trainer and Shauna.

From my peripheral vision, I see a hand approaching from my right, so I look up from my plate and see Misty holding out her hand to me.

I just stare at her for a few seconds, alternating my gaze between her eyes and her hand, before shaking my head and turning my head towards Jackie, seeing that she thinks the same as me.

Lottie: For this gift from the wilderness, we give our thanks.-she begins to say and my right knee begins to bounce from the tension.

Van: Thank you.- she says to my sister's words, urging her to continue.

Lottie: To the spirit of the bear, who sacrificed so that we could survive, we give our thanks.-she says and they all give thanks. -And to the ancient gods of the sky and the dirt, we give our thanks.-it continues and everyone thanks again.

Misty: You two didn't say it.-she whispers looking at the girl to my left and me. -Jackie and Y/n didn't say it.- she accuses us loudly so that everyone present knows.

Y/n: The fuck is your problem?-I asked the curly-haired blonde with a murderous look.

Jackie: No, I didn't thank the dirt for bringing us a brain-dead bear. What is even happening right now? -she asks, impressed by the group's attitude. -The fuck is wrong with you all?- she asks the girls, leaning forward.

Taissa: It's fine, you guys. They don't have to... -she comes to our defense but the team captain interrupts her.

Jackie: Oh, shut up Tai.- she scoffs at her. -Don't pretend like you weren't a part of it. What, we're... we're just not going to talk about it? - she asks everyone present. -We just howl at the moon now and have fucking orgies or support incest?- she says and I tense up even more at the last thing she said. -And somehow we are the ones who did something wrong? -She shrugs her shoulders, angry at the whole situation.

Ben: Whoa, wait, what?- he asks completely surprised by what he just heard.

Shauna: Jackie, calm down.-she asks her best friend, but I can see that this only makes her angrier.

Jackie: Don't tell me to calm down!-she exclaims angrily, getting up from her chair. - What were you gonna do to Travis last night, Sahuna? - she asks, approaching her and crossing her arms. -Answer me.-she asks after a few seconds of silence.

Shauna: I don't know. I don't remember. -she answers with some uncertainty, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Jackie: Bullshit.-she reproaches, not believing what she has just heard. -You had a knife to his throat. If we hadn't come, you would have killed him.- she accuses her with total honesty.

Shauna: Just shut up!-she exclaims angrily, getting up from her seat. -None of this would have happened if it wasn't for you. If you hadn't...-she accuses quickly, approaching her without finishing the sentence.

Jackie: Hadn't what? Huh?-she asks without reacting to his proximity. -Stolen him? Wow. The irony.- she scoffs again. -Shauna was fucking Jeff behind my back, you know that?- she asks and I open my eyes in surprise. -Yeah. That's who's really responsible for her little bundle of joy.-she tells everyone present and I stare at her, worried about her.

Shauna: It was you.-she accuses her with a certain hurt tone. -You read my journal.-she explains without taking her eyes off the one who was her best friend.

Jackie: How could you? - she accuses her with pain in her voice. -You were my best friend. You.. you.. you don't even like him.-she says in a hurt face.

Shauna : And how would you know? - she asks her angrily with a broken voice. -You're so obsessed with yourself, I'm surprised I'm aware other people even exist.-she reproaches this time with some malice.

Y/n: Girls, I think it's best to stop now.- I say, getting up and leaving the empty plate aside.

Shauna: You know you never even asked me if I wanted to go to Rutgers? You just assumed I would go wherever you wanted.-She reproaches her with more and more annoyance in her voice. -You tell me what to wear, what to do, who to hook up with. I don't even like soccer!-shouts the last part. -But you just get everything you want. All the time like it's nothing. And the rest of us, we are just extras in the movie of your fucking life.- she accuses her angrily and with some pain in her tone.

Jackie: Oh, my God. You are such a cliché.- she exclaims, hurt and upset by what she just said. -Oh, is the.. is the sad little sidekick mad?- she asks with a certain sarcasm. -Did I force you to live in my shadow, Shauna? It must be hard being this jealous all the time.-she says, earning a short laugh in response.

Y/n: Girls, seriously, stop.- I ask them taking a couple of steps towards them, but a hand on my sweatshirt stops me. -What are you doing?- I ask Van confused and she shakes her head.

Jackie: What? You're so fucking jealous of me, you can barely breathe.-she reproaches Shipman, hurt and angry with her.

Shauna: Are you quoting Beaches at me right now? - she asks with a gesture of confusion.

Jackie: What? No.-she denies, confused by the question.

Shauna: I'm not jealous of you, Jackie. I fell sorry for you. Because you're weak and I think that deep down, you know it. - she says taking a few steps towards her. -I'm sure everyone back home is so fucking sad to be losing their perfect little princess, but they will never know how tragic and boring and insecure you really are.- she continues without measuring her words. -Or how high school was the best your life was ever going to get.-she finishes saying in a somewhat aggressive way and I can see the damage those words are doing to Jax.

Jackie: Fuck you.-she says with a slightly broken voice. -That's it. You know what? That's it. Get.. get out.-she orders pointing to the cabin door.

Y/n: Jax, stop.-I ask her, trying to get closer, but the redhead keeps holding me by the clothes and preventing me from doing so.

Jackie: Go on, get out.-she repeats with a little more force.

Shauna: No.- she shakes her head, her eyes wide.

Jackie: I can't be around you, I... I can't even fucking look at you right now.- She says completely hurt.

Shauna: Well, that sounds like your problem. So maybe you should leave.-she ignores the order and stands in her place while maintaining eye contact.

Everyone remains completely silent for a few seconds, processing the words of the two friends and the situation that is happening at this moment.

Mari: Maybe you would be better off, since we're all so crazy.-she reproaches the captain, supporting Shauna.

Ben: Okay, everybody just stop. Nobody is going outside.-he orders us all seriously.

Lottie: Stay out of it, Coach.-she tells him with a murderous look.

Y/n: No, you stay out of it. You already did enough last night.-I say to my twin, giving her a dirty look, angry and fed up with her attitude.

Jackie: You know what? Fine.-she says walking towards the sleeping things and grabbing her blanket and pillow.

Taissa: Jackie, come on. Don't go outside.-she asks her friend, somewhat tired.

Jackie: Don't pretend like this isn't what you wanted the entire fucking time.- she responds with obvious anger.

Y/n: Don't be silly, Jax.- I ask her, releasing myself from Van's grip and walking towards her. -The temperatures are dropping and sleeping outside is dangerous.- I assure her, worried about her.

Jackie: I don't care, I'm not going to be where I'm not wanted and clearly this isn't it.- she denies looking me in the eyes. -I don't even know who you are anymore.-she says to the one who was her best friend.

Shauna: Or maybe you never did.-she assures her and that is all she needs to leave the cabin and slam the door.

The room is tensely silent for a few moments, until I hear a murmur and explode.

Y/n: What the hell is wrong with you two? - I ask completely angry. - We are all here together, for better and for worse, and no one has more right than anyone to be in the cabin. - I comment looking at the pregnant girl. - And let me tell you that as a friend, you leave a lot to desire. Not only have you betrayed your best friend, but you have dumped all your frustration on her and used her insecurities against her to hurt her. What kind of best friend does that? - I ask her completely impressed by her evilness.

Shauna: You don't know anything.- she claims, directing her anger towards me.

Y/n: And I don't need to know.- I deny between my teeth. -With what I just saw, it seems more than enough to know what kind of person you are and believe me, you are not the type I want by my side in a situation like the one we are in.- I finish looking at her with repulsion, before grabbing two blankets and a pillow to leave the cabin.

Lottie: You can't go out.- she forbids me, standing in front of the door so I can't open it.

Y/n: Charlotte, get out of the way right now.- I ordered her, annoyed by her attitude.

Lottie: No.- she denies strongly and crosses her arms.

Y/n: You move or I move you. But I'm not staying here with you two. - I assure her, looking at her with my eyes half closed.

Lottie: No.- she repeats in a slower manner, but with the same authoritative tone of voice.

Y/n: You asked for it.- I remind her grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to the side, trying not to use too much force to hurt her, but enough to move her.

Once I push her away from the door, I open it and walk outside, slamming the door behind me.

At the sound of the door, Jackie turns her head towards me at the noise and frowns when she sees me.

I just walk towards her, dropping the things in my arms to the ground and sitting on the wooden log carefully.

Jackie: What are you doing? - she asks me in a low and broken voice without taking her eyes off me.

Y/n: Keeping you company.- I answer shrugging my shoulders. -You're crazy if you think I'm going to leave you here alone and stay in there with them.- I explain looking at her as if she were crazy, causing a small laugh from her at my gesture.

Jackie: Thank you.- she whispers looking at her hands.

Y/n: You don't have to thank me for anything.- I assure her with an amused grimace.

I put one of my arms over her shoulders, pulling her close to my body. I place a kiss on her forehead, feeling her snuggle up against my chest and hug my waist tightly, but careful of my wounds.

She looks up at me, placing a hand on the back on my neck and pulling at It to join our lips in a soft kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes shine full off life ande a small smile appears in her face.

We just sit together outside watching the sun disappear and observing the flames of the fire move in the darkness of the forest night.

#jackie taylor x reader #ella purnell x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets #lottie matthews #yellowjackets fanfic #natalie scatorccio #shauna shipman #misty quigley #taissa turner #van palmer #akilah #jackieshauna #oc character #jackie taylor x you

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