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pascallftv · 9 months

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Girl Next Door— Part 6

Previous Part Series Masterlist

Summary: Your dad discovers you and Joel.

Word count: 5.1k

Content: Lots of swearing, arguments, threats

AN: The final part :’) thank you so so much for reading. Writing a series was a new experience for me and it makes my heart so happy to see you all enjoying my writing. Goodbye for now <3

The day finally came. A couple weeks from the first time you and Joel had sex, your father was home. It was easy to act normal when it was just you and your dad together. You could distract yourself from Joel when he wasn’t present. You filled your father in on all the things you’d done when he was gone, being sure to leave out the details of you and Joel’s intimacy.

Your bathroom was coming along amazing. Joel did an unbelievable job at turning your vision into reality. The dark green tiles and grout were exactly as you pictured, and the black and white checkered floor added the dimension to the room that you were searching for. Joel would be working on the finishing touches in the next few days. While you were excited to have your bathroom again, you felt gutted.

With Joel’s job finished, it would be impossible to see him as much as you wanted with your father home. Of course you could spend all the time you wanted together when your dad was gone, it still felt like a chapter was closing. The dynamic was so much different having your dad home. You and Joel were still just as infatuated with each other as ever, but it made things difficult when all you wanted to do was spend time with each other but couldn’t.

“I have an idea.” Your dad had said when he came home.

You were both sitting on the porch in the warm summer air. You’d been catching up on the past few weeks of each other’s lives. You hadn’t realized how much you missed your father. It sent a pang through your chest when you thought about the secrets you were hiding from him, but it was all you could do. You longed to be open to him about Joel, but you knew that was impossible to do without ruining everything.

“And what’s that?” You smiled, cocking your head to look at your father through your black sunglasses. The sun was extra bright that day, your skin hot under its rays. You felt like a baby chicken under a heat lamp.

“I was thinking we could have Joel over tonight. Drink some beers, celebrate him finishing up your bathroom.” He suggested, taking a swig of the beer he was already working on. He wasn’t an alcoholic by any means, but when he was home, he did enjoy drinking some cold beers while relaxing from his work.

Your stomach did a flip. You hadn’t really spent time with Joel in the last couple of days. You’d caught him a couple times when he was over to work on your bathroom, sneaking some kisses while you took your breaks. You felt like a couple of teenagers sneaking around like it was some sort of Romeo and Juliet love story. A forbidden love trope was a genre you enjoyed reading, but not something you wanted in your real life.

“I think that would be nice.” You smiled, tapping your fingers against the patio chair arm, looking off into the distance at the pond and field in the backyard. It was so peaceful, free spirited.

“Perfect. I’ll shoot him a text.” Your dad said, pulling his phone out and quickly typing a text to send to Joel.

You turned your head to look off towards Joel’s house, noticing his brown truck parked in his driveway, it appearing as more of a blob from this distance. Your mind flickered back to the night you first had sex, the steamy memories shooting immediately to your core. You cleared your throat and adjusted in your seat at the discomfort between your legs. Now was certainly not the time to be feeling like this.

“Y’alright, bear?” Your father asked, looking at you with a look of confusion.

“Oh I’m good, just fighting some swamp ass over here.” You lied with a chuckle. “Goddamn hot sun. You know how it goes.”

Your dad bellowed out a laugh, shaking his head and taking another drink of his beer. “Fuck, I know too much. God, when the sweat starts dripping down your back and then starts weaving through your ass hairs like a pinball—“

“Okay, Dad. That’s enough.” You laughed, standing up from your chair.

“I am going to take a shower.” You said, walking over to him and kissing him on the top of his head. “Holler for me if you need me.”

Your shower consisted of you fantasizing about Joel once again. It was probably unhealthy at how much that man consumed your every thought, but you couldn’t help it. What your brain couldn’t seem to shake off was the possibility of loving Joel. Sure, you’d only been close to him for a little over a month now, but you’ve never felt this way about someone before. Everything felt so incredibly natural and right with him. You craved his presence at all times, his touch and laugh being your two favorite things; two things that you’d grown accustomed to. Now that you weren’t together near as much, you were going through withdrawals.

You felt so weak. You knew you shouldn’t have depended so heavily on someone else to bring you happiness, but you couldn’t help it. He consumed you entirely and you couldn’t shake him.

The evening approached rapidly and you were now sitting on the couch waiting for Joel to arrive. You were growing incredibly impatient— you missed him so much, you were astounded at your own desperation. You felt like you were drowning, his touch and voice acting as your oxygen; without it, you couldn’t breathe and function properly. At the thought of him, you felt electrified.

You had already downed your first beer and you were working on your second. You didn’t want to get too tipsy. You didn’t trust yourself with concealing your feelings when you drank too much, so it certainly wasn’t an option for you to risk it with Joel and your dad in the same room.

You were mid swig when Joel walked in the front door, a six pack of beer bottles in his hand, his veins protruding. It was like you were like a vampire; his veins looked so delectable. His gaze locked on you immediately as he kicked off his shoes. He looked around, not catching sight of your dad yet, so he made his way over to you. He sat the beer on the coffee table and leaned over you, taking your face in his hands, kissing you with desperation. He evidently missed you just as much. The sound of the porch sliding glass door opening made Joel break away from you in a panic, retrieving the case of beer off the table. He walked away from you, leaving you a disheveled mess on the sofa. He wandered into the kitchen, finding your dad with a beer of his own in his hand.

“Thought I heard you pull in.” Your dad exclaimed, pulling Joel in for a hug, patting his back. He glanced down at the beer in Joel’s hand and grinned harder. “Yuengling, you know me so well. You better be sharing, Miller.”

“Consider me open to a trade.” Joel smiled, walking over to the fridge, placing the case inside before grabbing a bottle of his own.

Your dad leaned against the kitchen island, pulling his beer opener out of his pocket before tossing it to Joel. Joel caught it with ease, opening his beer casually. He tossed the opener back to your dad, then took a big swig of his beer.

“She’s been talking real highly of you.” Your dad said, half grinning at Joel. Joel cocked his head, swallowing the malty taste of beer on his tongue. “Says you’re doing a great job on the remodel.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Joel said, tilting his bottle towards your dad before bringing it back up to his lips.

“Talking about me?” You said, entering the kitchen.

“Only bad things.” Your dad teased, rubbing your head with his palm, making a messy of your hair.

“Dad!” You exclaimed, swatting his hand away, fixing your hair immediately. Joel watched the interaction with an amused expression playing across his facial features.

“Was just telling Joel about the amazing job he’s doing on your bathroom.” Your dad clarified, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Told him he probably needed a hazmat suit to get rid of that old toilet. Lord only knows the nuclear materials you unloaded in that thing.”

“Dad, what the fuck?” You groaned, pushing him off of you. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He had to have been at least four beers deep at this point. Joel laughed, his eyes lighting up when he made eye contact with you. You fought a smile back, shaking your head.

“Oh, bear. You always take jokes so seriously.” Your dad grumbled dramatically.

“Crack open another beer, see if you can keep up.” Your dad said to you, squeezing your shoulder with his hand. “Joel, come in here so I can AirPlay this fucking picture I took on the TV.”

Your jaw fell in disbelief. Yeah, your dad was definitely feeling goofy from the alcohol. He left the room in a hurry, leaving you and Joel alone in the kitchen.

“Holy fucking god.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I am so sorry about him, he’s a fucking idiot—”

Joel cut you off by walking towards you and pressing his lips to yours, his hand reaching up to grab the flesh of your breast through your tank top. God, he loved when you didn’t wear a bra. He pulled away from your mouth, kissing you on the forehead.

“S’okay, darlin’.” Joel said quietly. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You whispered, your hand reaching up to his jaw, tracing the outline of it with your forefinger.

You snapped out of the sentimental moment at the sound of your father’s bellowing laughter from the living room.

“Fucking hell!” He exclaimed through his laugh. “Joel, come here!”

Joel laughed, patting you on the behind before leaving the room to see what your father had cooked up on the TV. You shook your head in amusement and made your way to the fridge, grabbing one of the beers Joel had brought over. You wandered out of the kitchen, your eyes widening at the sight of another trucker’s dick on the screen as he pissed on the tire of a semi.

“Dad?!” You bursted out, rushing over to the couch to grab his phone out of his hand, turning off his AirPlay. Joel’s jaw was practically on the floor, his eyes slowly panning over to your father.

“Holy shit, I can’t breathe.” He said through his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “I hear something out of the corner of my ear, so Iooked out the window— and fuck, this guy is just fully cock out pissing.”

“So you took a picture of an unsuspecting man’s dick?” You said, tossing his phone back in his lap, just inches away from hitting him in the crotch.

“Naturally, yes.” Your dad responds, catching his breath when he finally calms down his laughter.

“Phew, have a seat, bear. Joel doesn’t bite.” Your dad gestured towards the open cushion between them. “Let’s watch a movie.”

You glanced over to Joel, a smirk playing across his lips as he sipped his beer. Oh he bites alright.

You obliged, wandering over to sit down between them. Biased, you sat a couple inches closer to Joel, your thighs nearly touching, but far enough away so that it wouldn’t raise any red flags for your father. Your father tossed you the bottle opener. You opened your bottle before tossing it right back to him.

“A-ha! Let’s watch Stepbrothers. Such a classic.” Your dad exclaimed, throwing his hands up in delight as he pressed play on the movie.

You raised your brows at him, then turned your attention to Joel who was already looking at you. The corners of his lips were tugging up in a playful grin. He glanced around you to make sure your father was locked on the movie before squeezing your thigh quickly. He leaned over to your ear, his hot breath fanning over you, sending chills down your spine.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He whispered in your ear, quiet enough to where you could barely make out what he said. “When you finish that beer, meet me in the kitchen.”

You spent the next fifteen minutes of the movie trying to drink your beer. You downed it slow enough to feel sick, but fast enough in pure desperation for what Joel was hinting at. When you finally finished your bottle, you sighed before looking at it.

“I need another beer.” You announced, pushing yourself off the couch. You held your empty hand out in front of your father. “Opener?”

“So needy.” He grumbled, setting it in your palm, craning his head around you to try and keep his eyes locked on the movie.

“I’ll come too.” Joel said, standing up with you and walking around you to the kitchen, his fingers brushing your wrist, sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Grab me one!” Your dad calls after him. You ducked out of his sight and followed Joel into the kitchen.

Joel reached into the fridge, grabbing three more Yuenglings in one of his hands. It was casual things like that that he made so sexy. You loved how big his hands were, and you loved them even more wrapped around your throat. He sat them down on the counter, then turned around to lean his lower back against the counter, looking down at you with his big brown irises.

You walked up to him, running your hands from his abdomen up to his warm chest. He looked so good in that black t-shirt. His smell was intoxicating— the woodsy scent was your favorite. He smirked down at you, reaching to brush your hair behind your ear. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, his hands raking through the hair at the back of your head. His tongue slipped past your lips, licking your teeth. You both tasted the zippy flavor of beer as your tongues danced with each other. Joel’s empty hand snaked down the expanse of your back to your behind, squeezing the flesh there under your thin shorts.

“Make sure you grab me a Yuengling—” Your dad’s voice entered the kitchen. “What the fuck?!”

You jolted off of Joel, wiping your lips frantically. The beer in your dad’s hand fell from his grasp, shattering in a loud collision with the granite flooring. His jaw was slack, pure shock ridden on his face.

“Dad, I—”

“I swear to fucking god.” Your dad snarled angrily. He strode towards Joel, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, getting centimeters from his face.

“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled. “What gave you the audacity to lay a finger on my daughter? You fucking pervert!”

You watched in horror as your dad reared back a fist, ready to punch Joel right in the jaw.

“Dad, stop!” You screamed, bounding towards him and pushing him off of Joel.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Your father snapped at you. “Are you kidding me?”

“Lionel, it’s not what you—”

“You’d shut the fuck up if you knew what was good for you, Miller.” Your father interrupted him, his tone laced with venom. “You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass into a fucking pulp.”

Joel swallowed hard as your dad got in his face again. If looks could kill, Joel would’ve already been dead. You’ve never seen your father this pissed before in your life.

“I leave for five weeks and I come back to my fucking best friend’s tongue down my daughter’s throat.” He scoffed. “I don’t even want to fucking picture where else it’s been.”

“You,” your father poked Joel’s chest, “fucking disgust me.”

Your heart sank. Your hands were shaking as the scene unfolded in front of you. Your eyes were brimming hot with tears that threatened to fall at any second. Joel’s expression remained stoic, his knuckles white at his grip on the edge of the island countertop.

“If I had nothing to lose, you’d be a dead man.” Your father seethed with anger.

“Get the fuck out of my sight before I break all four of your limbs.” Your father threatened. Joel gulped. “You are to finish that fucking bathroom, but when you’re finished, I am to never see you again.”

“And you.” Your father turned to you. His face was the color of a chili pepper. “You better pray to fucking god that I don’t kick you out of this goddamn house. You are to work from your room, and so help me god you are to never see him again. You understand me?”

Tears flooded from your eyes, your lips quivering. You were absolutely broken. Your eyes flickered to Joel, his expression pained and defeated.

“Y-you don’t understand.” You hiccuped. “Dad, please just let us explain—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled. “Go to your room. Now.”

You felt like a fucking child again with the orders being barked at you by your father. You felt so small in that room, your body on fire with embarrassment and guilt. You’d imagined your father’s reaction to the both of you to be sour, but you truly underestimated him. You’d never seen him overcome with that much anger— he was borderline murderous and you were terrified. You couldn’t bear to look at Joel again, so you turned on your heel and darted out of the room, running up the stairs to your room. You were like a toddler who had been banished to their room in timeout.

You fell onto your bed, the sobs hitting you with full force. Your entire body shook as you cried out, the tears streaming from your eyes. You were completely and utterly broken.

The week dragged on painfully slow. You spent most of your days hardly able to focus on your work. Anytime you let your mind wander, you got flashbacks to that night in the kitchen, the disgusted look on your father’s face as he looked at you with pure disappointment. You and your father had always been so close, and now it felt like your relationship was tarnished forever. Between your ruined relationship with your father and losing Joel, you felt destroyed.

You hadn’t seen Joel since the altercation. He’d finished the bathroom a couple days prior, working in a rush. You worked in your room, only leaving to use the guest bathroom and eat occasionally downstairs. Even on your restroom breaks, you couldn’t bear to sneak a peek of Joel. It would be too painful for you. You wanted to give in and go and kiss him. To tell him that everything would be okay and you’d be able to go back to normal. But that couldn’t happen.

With your bathroom finally finished, you clocked out of work for the day, and went to scope it out. In all honesty, you’d been too broken to even step foot in your new bathroom. You knew if you went in there, all you’d be reminded of was Joel. You’d be smacked with reality if you saw it, and you’d realize the job was completed and you’d have no excuse to ever see Joel again.

You needed to shower, and you knew it was time you utilized your new bathroom. It crushed your soul more to know that Joel spent so much time perfecting your vision just for you to not use and appreciate it.

You walked cautiously through your bedroom towards the bathroom door. You inhaled deeply as you reached out to grasp the cold metal of the door knob. You mustered up the courage to open the door, the bathroom absolutely breathtaking in front of you. The tiles were dark green, the floor black and white checkered. The sink and toilet were a beautiful matte black, the faucets a gorgeous shade of gold. It was absolutely perfect. You felt your lip quiver as you began to tear up.

On the sink was a folded piece of paper. On top of it was a messy heart. You frowned as you walked towards the sink, taking the piece of paper in your hand. You slowly unfolded it, revealing Joel’s handwriting.

I hope it’s as beautiful as you envisioned. I wish I could’ve seen your reaction. Don’t be a stranger. -J

A pang shot through your heart. At his handwritten words, your gut felt hollow as you realized you had your camcorder filled with videos of the process of the remodel. You were in much too fragile of a state to watch it now, but you knew you’d watch them eventually.

That’s when you began to sob again. Your body shook as you cried. You didn’t hold back, letting the sadness completely consume you. You turned on the shower, turning the heat as hot as you could stand it. You stripped off your clothing, leaving yourself naked in front of your mirror. Your eyes scanned your bare body. You got flashbacks to each and every memory of the gentle way Joel would touch you. The way he’d softly squeeze your breasts, the way he’d ghost kisses down the skin of your neck. You cried harder, taking in your bloodshot eyes and the bags under your eyes. You looked as defeated as you felt.

You were laying on your bed that weekend, you back flat against your mattress. Your mind was numb, your body exhausted. Your eyes were sunken in and lifeless. You’d gone from being the happiest you’d ever been to completely soul crushed.

Suddenly, you weren’t sure what overcame you, but you were feeling rebellious. A realization fell over you; you could sit here miserable at the turn of events you’d faced, or you could take a risk and try to talk some sense into your father. You could risk it and it work and hope Joel and your father reconcile, or you could move on and always wonder what could have been.

Your body was a zombie going through the motions and you walked down the stairs. Your father wasn’t in the living room or kitchen, but you spotted his figure sitting facing away from you on the back porch. It was sunset, the beautiful shades of pink and orange waging the war of peace in your mind. Your father had a bottle of water in his hand. He hadn’t touched a beer since the night everything went down.

You took a deep breath and your hand grabbed the handle to the patio door, slowly opening it. Your father’s head turned to the side at the sound, but turned back to the front just as quick. His fist was gripping the arm of his chair, his foot tapping against the cement of the patio.

You silently sat in the chair next to him, your feet flat on the ground, your hands resting on the arms of your chair. You pursed your lips, staring off into the horizon. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“You’ve always been my favorite person. My idol.” You began, your voice shaking as you spoke. “I always wanted to please you. The sheer thought of disappointing you broke my heart.”

You kept your eyes forward, but you felt your father’s eyes on the side of your face.

“These past few weeks have been some of the happiest of my life. I haven’t felt butterflies since high school, but there I went, feeling them again.” You shakily took a deep breath, feeling tears form in your eyes. “Dad, I can’t expect you to understand what I am feeling. What Joel is feeling. But I need you to understand that I have never felt like this about someone.”

You glanced over at him, your vision cloudy with tears. Your father was frowning, his own eyes blurring with hot tears. You turned your gaze to your lap, finding your fingers there, toying with each other as a distraction.

“I can’t expect you to be okay with it. But, what I can expect from you is to try and understand. I know it’s fucking bizarre for you, but I need you to try and see things from my perspective. Dad, I—” you paused, sniffling.

“I love him.” You admitted, staring off at the sun setting over the field in front of you. “I’ve never been so sure of something in my life. I’m not the best at describing how I feel, but I feel so incredibly happy and authentically myself with him. He’s everything I could ever want; he’s so kind to me, Dad. He makes me feel so beautiful and loved. He makes me feel so goddamn important.”

A tear rolled down your father’s cheek as you spoke. He swallowed the lump in his throat, closing his eyes shut, breathing deeply.

“I’m not a kid anymore. I know this is still your house and you’re so gracious to let me stay here while I figure my shit out, but I want you to allow me to be my happiest and not hold me back. I need you to give us a chance. If he hurts me, that’s my fault. But that’s my choice to make, not yours. I can’t expect you to understand what we have, but I can expect you to let me do what will make me happy.”

You hiccuped back a sob as you finished your speech, wiping your clammy palms on the fabric of your sweatpants. You wiped the tears from your cheeks that spilled as you talked.

Your father stayed silent for a moment, fully comprehending your words.

“Okay.” He said plainly. Your eyes snapped over to him. He was looking up at you with sad, but hopeful eyes. The slightest ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He reached his hand up to wipe away his tears with the palm of his hand.

“Okay?” You repeated, standing up from your chair, walking over to him, watching him for a second.

“Okay.” He repeated. “I don’t understand what’s happening between the two of you, but like you said, that’s none of my business. It’s not my decision to choose who you spend your time on. I just want what’s best for you, bear.”

You cried as you bent down and hugged him, pulling him forward from the back of the chair. He dropped his water bottle, hugging you back as tight as he could.

“I’m so sorry.” He cried. “I love you so much. I thought I lost you.”

You sobbed into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

“I love you.”

You pulled away from him, taking in his watery eyes. He reached up, wiping the pad of his thumb across his cheek to wipe away the tear stains.

“Go on.” He muttered. “Go see him.”

You brows taught together and you sniffled.

“I’ll have a conversation with him eventually. But for now, it’s important you go make sure you’re okay.” Your dad said softly, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek before rushing back towards the house, opening the patio door faster than you ever had. You scooped your keys up off the hook in the foyer and didn’t even bother putting shoes on. You ran out to your car in the driveway, not missing a beat to rev up the engine and throw it into reverse. That was the fastest you’d ever driven to Joel’s house.

You pulled into the driveway, parking behind Joel’s brown truck. You threw the car into park and hastily unbuckled your seatbelt, throwing the door open. You climbed out, slamming the door before running across the lawn and up the stairs to his front door. You were panting as you knocked on the door rapidly, only breaking to ring the doorbell.

The door swung open to Joel. He was disheveled, his eyes lifeless and sunken in. His hair was messy and unkempt. His eyes softened at the sight of you and your emotional state. Taking him by surprise, you rushed up to him, throwing your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest.

“Baby.” He said quietly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight against him. He rested his chin on the top of your head, breathing in your sweet scent that he missed so much.

“I love you.” You blurted into the fabric of his shirt.

“What?” Joel said, pulling away from you, not sure if he heard you correctly.

“I love you, Joel Miller.” You gazed up at him. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You grabbed his face in your hands, taking in every square inch of his face. He parted his lips in disbelief. He didn’t speak, just stared back at you as if you’d just said the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

He still didn’t respond, but laced his fingers into the soft locks of your hair to pull you into a desperate kiss, his eyes squeezing shut as he tasted you. God, he missed you so much. Your lips moved in sync, your hands tugging at the hair at the base of his neck. The kiss was fast and hungry, but it was filled with every ounce of emotion you felt towards each other.

Joel pulled away, grabbing your cheeks in his large palms, watching the way you stared up at him with pure adoration.

“I love you.” He said. “I love you so fucking much.”

He kissed you again, this time slower, his lips moving so passionately against yours. He pulled your body closer to him, his breath warm through his nose. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip but didn’t breach past. He was savoring the taste of you.

He pulled away, his eyes searching your face.

“I talked to my dad. H-he’s still unsure but he’s giving us a chance.” You said, wrapping your arms around Joel, pulling him in for another hug. You missed how safe he felt. “He wants to talk to you eventually.”

“I— wow.” Joel breathed out, pulling you tighter to him chest, running his hand through your hair.

“I thought you would never want to see me again.” You muttered, squeezing his back with your hands.

“That’s the last thing I’d want, sweetheart. I thought the same for you.”

“You’re never getting rid of me, Joel.” You said, lifting yourself on your tiptoes to kiss him again. His hands ran over the expanse of your back, whining into your mouth.

He pulled away, taking your face in his hands again, admiring your beauty, admiring that here you were in his arms.

“I love you.”

And in that moment, you both knew everything was going to be okay.

taglist— @ghostwritesthings, @magpiepills, @laurrrra, @brittmb115, @kaislashes, @smccul

#din djarin #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #the mandalorian #dbf!joel #joel miller smut

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armored-angel4798 · 4 months

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2023

Steve knew, the moment he saw Eddie’s first message that he wasn’t going to like what they had to say.

EdM0112: Are you busy?

KingSteve: no, why?

EdM0112: I have some silly little news to give you. It’s nothing bad!

KingSteve: what is it? Wait, let me guess, YOU’RE PREGNANT!

EdM0112: hahaha, no, nothing like that.

KingSteve: so what?

EdM0112: I am engaged!

KingSteve: oh, really? That’s Great!!!

It was, in fact, not great. Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest felt so, unbelievably heavy and tears started pouring, unbidden, down his cheeks. Robin. He needed Robin, she would know how to help him. She helped him the last time his pesky feelings came out of the hole he had buried them in.

See, Eddie and Steve had never been good together. Steve was well aware of this fact, thanks to endless hours of talking to Robin. They were teenagers when they first got together, and neither of them had any clue how a relationship should work. Eddie was figuring themself out and they weren’t comfortable with Steve’s easy affection or deep wells of devotion and love. Steve had been too much. He had loved much too hard and much too fast and it ran Eddie away. They had never been good at the communication side of the relationship either. They were never on the same page or even in the same book most of the time. Yet, none of this had stoped Steve from giving his heart to Eddie. None of this made him think for even a millisecond that they couldn’t figure it out, that they couldn’t be together, that they wouldn’t be together forever.

Steve had always thought that he would be the one putting a ring on Eddie’s finger. Until Eddie handed his heart back to him in a million tiny pieces.

2019

“Eddie, please. I love you, Eddie.”

“Steve, we aren’t good for each other, can’t you see that? We haven’t done anything other than hurt one another this whole past year of dating.”

“You don’t have to do this Eddie! I can be better, I can be whatever you need me to be, just please don’t leave me.”

“Steve, the fact that you don’t see how fucked up that is only solidifies that this isn’t good for either of us.”

Steve was sobbing. He was sobbing and Eddie was mad at him. He just needed to know what he was doing wrong. He could fix it. He had to fix it. If Eddie left it would just prove what his parents had always shown him. He is unloveable. He is never good enough. Never strong enough. Never caring enough. Never enough. He just wanted to be enough.

“Steve, this has to be over. For both of us.” Eddie sounded so exasperated. So tired.

Steve nodded, still sobbing.

“I’m… I’m sorry that I couldn’t make you happy, Eddie. I’m sorry. Please, I love you.”

“And I’m sure I will always love you, but I’m leaving. I have to go. I can’t be myself here, Steve.” Eddie was whispering now, running their cool hand down Steve’s cheek. Steve watched Eddie’s tears roll down their own cheeks as they wiped his away. “I’ll still be just a phone call away, but I have to move on.”

Steve grabbed Eddie’s wrist and nodded. Giving up hurt worse than anything but he couldn’t keep causing Eddie pain. He couldn’t keep them here if they would be unhappy and anything other than wholly themself. Eddie moved across the country that day and never looked back.

2023

Steve isn’t really sure when he called Robin, but he apparently did because she was here. She was picking him up off of the floor that he had sank to, his phone still on the couch cushion behind him.

“Hey, hey, Steve” she patted his cheeks and he blinked. “There you are. What happened Stevie? You called but never said a word so I came to check on you. You don’t look good. Why are you crying?”

Steve brought his own hand up to his cheek, it came back wet.

“Eddie is getting married.”

“Woah, okay. I didn’t even know they were dating anybody.”

“Me either” Steve whispered.

“And how are you handling this information?” Steve gave her a glare that he’s sure lost some of its sterns by his no doubt puffy eyes. “Yeah, so not great.” Steve snorted. “Do ya want to talk about it.”

“I thought I was done with this. I thought I had moved past it. Why? Why did I break the moment they told me that they were engaged.”

“I’ve gotta be honest here, Steve, the situation you put yourself in wasn’t the best. You knew Eddie was moving on. They told you they were. You never really let them go. You stayed close and kept your own hopes up. This just crushed them.”

Steve flopped his head over on her shoulder.

“Why cant you be my therapist, again?”

“Conflict of interest, babe. I would be too clouded by my love for you to give you the advice you need.”

“It’s never stopped you before.” Robin chuckled and ruffled his hair. “I don’t think I ever actually let myself work through my heartbreak. I just kind of shoved it down far enough that it wasn’t a problem to keep talking to Eddie as if they’d never broken my heart. I still wanted them to be my best friend. Eddie knows me better than almost anyone, besides you, and it felt harder to lose that than to bury my feelings.”

“Yeah, you’ve buried more than you would ever let anyone you love even think of going through. Don’t you think you’ve held on to enough? Just let it go, Steve. It’ll be okay. I’ll be here.”

“You won’t leave me too?” Steve’s voice sounded so so small, even to himself.

“Never.”

And Steve broke.

#Steve Harrington needs a hug #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie #stranger things #st #this is really as okay as it’s gonna get right now.#I’m sorry #i was having a bad day when i wrote it.#angst #it’s very sad

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hypnoneghoul · 11 months

Text

Ripple Down My Spine

WC: 2,3K

Relationship: Phantom/Dewdrop/Rain

Tags: degradation, praise, cock rings, anal, transmasc dew, vaginal sex, orgasm delay/denial, multiple orgasms, hand jobs, some piss too, creampie, temperature play, needy phantom

It's 02.15 a.m. and Phantom's cock is not letting him sleep. Being too lazy and too lonely to take care of it himself, he wanders into Rain and Dew's bedroom.

Notes: Written in collaboration with @mis4dv3nture

Read under the cut or on AO3.

He couldn’t sleep.

He kept tossing and turning in his nest for hours now, growling at offending bed sheets when they wrapped around his legs.

Phantom was unbelievably horny.

Swiss laughed at him once, comparing him to a human teenager, getting hot and bothered over everything and anything. He supposed the multi ghoul was right.

Phantom could go to someone, ask for help. He could also try to fix his problem himself, but he was met with a scary lack of motivation. His brain was too tired, even if his body wasn’t, what would he even fantasize about? Swiss, Aurora, Ra-

What if he went to Rain?

He remembered the water ghoul telling him it was okay for him to go into his and Dewdrop’s room, even without knocking, at any time. For any reason, too, no matter if he was horny, needed a hug, or was just bored.

Phantom doubted Rain had sporting a boner on the list of acceptable excuses to wake them up at - he glanced at his phone - 2.15 in the morning, though.

But he was so, so lonely and aching and annoyed at his goddamn cock’s moodiness.

So, Phantom tumbled out of his mess of a bed, and padded over to the door. He crossed the den’s main corridor with a sigh and was standing in front of wooden doors adorned with two triangles in no time. He grabbed the knob and quietly let himself in, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the complete darkness that the bedroom was drowned in.

When Phantom could finally see enough for his gaze to focus on Rain and Dew, fast asleep, his chest warmed up.

He didn't want to wake them up.

They looked so lovely like that, cuddled up together, sleeping so peacefully.

But he felt so damn needy.

Maybe he should just go back to his room, try to sleep and forget about it. Or maybe he could just jerk off by himself, all alone in his bed, with some toys to make it feel better, fantasizing about getting absolutely ruined by those two.

But he was so lonely.

He quietly moved a step towards their bed as Dew pulled himself closer to Rain with a soft, high pitched snore. Phantom smiled, that scene was so adorable.

And they looked so comfy.

Maybe, if he just snuggled with them he would have just forgotten about how horny he was feeling.

Maybe, hugging those two ghouls would have helped him to finally get some sleep.

Maybe…

The quint ghoul slowly approached the bed, then hesitated for a second to give them a better look before he found a spot between them to position himself. He carefully slipped between them, trying his best to not wake them up. And damn, that felt so comfortable.

Too comfortable.

As he tried to readjust his position, Dewdrop woke up, “Bug, what's going on?”

Fuck.

“Dew, what's happening?” Rain woke up too, his deep sleepy voice just got Phantom's situation worse.

“Oh, what do we have here?” Dewdrop said with a smirk as he gently caressed the quint ghoul's obvious boner with the back of his hand.

“Looks like someone’s feeling needy tonight, huh?” Rain teased him, sinking his claws into his hips. The quint ghoul squirmed. After all, maybe he didn't feel that guilty about waking them up.

“‘m sorry,” still, Phantom apologized. Slightly fake, but he did hope Rain and Dewdrop were still sleepy enough to not notice his lack of remorse.

“Such an insatiable little whore, hm?” the fire ghoul murmured into his ear, shifting to glue his warm chest to Phantom’s naked back. A shiver went through him at the overwhelming warmth, cock kicking in his flannel pants.

“Y- yeah, I- oh,” the quint ghoul whined, trailing off into a moan when Rain’s cold hands ended up on his thighs, kneading at what little fat he had there. It hasn’t been even two minutes and he was already out of his mind.

“Fucking slut,” Rain spat, letting his claws dig into flesh every few squeezes, most definitely leaving small, red indents. “Could’ve just taken care of yourself, but no, gotta come wake us up. Selfish bitch.”

Sound of ripping fabric, as the water ghoul deemed Phantom’s sleep pants no longer tolerable, was drowned out by his whorish moan.

“Do you have to be so fucking loud?” Dewdrop’s sharp teeth teased the skin of his neck. “Are we not enough for you, do you want to wake the whole goddamn Abbey up?”

“No, n- no, I… please, Rain-” all Phantom could do was whine and moan, already ruined. He needed more, he was painfully hard and leaking, he felt himself dripping into the hollow of Rain’s hip where the water ghoul’s cold body was pressed against him.

“Shut your filthy mouth before we kick you out,” he snarled, tears gathering in Phantom’s eyes. Everyone knew he loved some good degradation. Especially if the words spat with venom weren’t that far from reality. He really was a desperate whore.

The quint ghoul cried out when one of Dewdrop’s hot hands moved to toy with his pebbled nipples, the other one coming down to squeeze his ass, dip between his cheeks. Rain kept his possessive grip on Phantom’s hip, painfully close to where he needed him the most, his other hand wrapping loosely around his throat, fingers tapping against his pulse.

“Please… I need…” Phantom tried to beg for some action, Rain's grip on his throat got tighter.

Without any warning, Dewdrop slipped a finger inside of him, the quint ghoul whining loudly at that sudden warm contact.

“So wet…” the fire ghoul teased him, “you really are a little whore, aren't you?”

Rain finally wrapped his cold hand around his length, looking at him with a smirk.

“And so damn hard,” he followed Dewdrop, “it must be so painful.”

Phantom frantically nodded, Rain's cold touch on his dick and Dewdrop’s warm finger sliding in and out of him were driving him insane.

The fire ghoul added another finger, he got faster, rougher. Rain's talented hand started working him and Phantom couldn't help but cry and moan in pleasure, muttering curses and desperate please’s.

“You're pathetic,” Dewdrop spat out as he slipped in a third finger. The quint ghoul knew how pathetic he was tilting his hips to follow both Rain and Dew's moves, shivering at their temperature difference.

But it felt so damn good. A hot sensation started building in his lower belly.

“Think I'm close…” he whimpered grabbing Rain's waist, “fuck, fuck, I'm gonna-”

He didn't notice the two ghouls winking at each other.

“You're not doing anything, you fucking slut,” Rain squeezed at the base of his dick as Dewdrop slid his fingers out of him to turn around and start looking for something in his drawer. Phantom felt on the verge of tears.

Dewdrop rolled on his back and quickly tossed away his pants. He spread his legs open and teasingly looked at the quint ghoul.

“Come here, baby,” he called him, circling his own clit with his left middle finger, hiding something in his right hand, “be a good whore and make me feel good.”

As Phantom positioned himself between his legs, Dewdrop put the cock ring he was holding on his dick. Without even giving the young ghoul the time to realize what was happening, Dew pushed Phantom’s length deep inside of his cunt.

“Fuck… Dew,” he moaned as Dew's clenched around him, burning hot.

“Shut up,” the water ghoul quickly positioned himself behind him, grabbing his ass with both his hands. “You're so fucking insatiable, you're embarrassing.”

Phantom felt the cold tip of his dick pressing against his entrance.

“Would you mind making both of us feel good?” Rain asked with a grin, wrapping his hand again around the quint ghoul's throat.

“Use… me…” he moaned louder than he expected, still trying his best to properly fuck Dewdrop, “p- please.”

Without hesitation Rain pushed himself all inside of him, whispering an almost unhearable good whore in Phantom's ear. Tears started rolling down his cheeks as the quint ghoul kept whimpering desperately at that double stimulation.

All he could do was whine and moan as he was being used like a toy. Rain’s hard thrusts and his hands gripping Phantom’s hips made him fuck into Dewdrop, completely lost in pleasure himself.

The pressure in his cock was painful, the ring squeezing him in all the wrong ways, contrasting to the heavenly warmth and wetness of the fire ghoul he was buried in. Phantom was sure he was going to explode soon.

“Rain, Rainy, I- I’m close, fuck,” Dewdrop moaned from under him. The quint ghoul’s stomach clenched at the way Dew didn’t even acknowledge him.

“Touch yourself, baby,” Rain cooed over Phantom’s shoulder. “Come on, you can do it. Cum for me.”

It took no more than three soft touches of his own fingers over his clit to get Dewdrop to moan, long and high pitched, and cum, clenching on Phantom’s cock nearly as tightly as the silicone ring. The quint ghoul cried out as Rain slowed his movements, causing Phantom, or rather his dick, to gently work Dew through his orgasm.

“You wanna move to the side and watch, baby?” Rain asked when the fire ghoul’s breath evened out. He nodded and Rain hauled Phantom’s entire body back, slipping his cock out of Dewdrop. He rolled over and settled on his side, head resting against his palm, arm bent. Ready for the show.

Phantom didn’t get even a moment to blink before Rain pushed him forward again, shoving his face into the pillows, ass high in the air. One of his cold hands slid under the quint ghoul as he shuddered, and finally took the ring off.

“Now, behave,” Rain growled and pulled back slowly, only to slam back into him with full force. Phantom choked on his own spit, drooling and crying into the pillows below him. He was on the brink of a climax from the very beginning, but now he was nearly insane with a need for release. He knew no matter how much Rain would be telling him to hold it, he just wouldn’t make it.

The quint ghoul tried to communicate as much, but all that came out was a muffled gurgle breaking into a whorish moan. As Rain was hitting his sweet spot over and over again with painful accuracy, Phantom felt another kind of pressure building in his gut. Something close to fear washed over him as he realized what it was.

“Rain- fuck, Rain, stop, please…” was all he could manage to say before the inevitable.

The water ghoul enjoyed every second of it. Seeing Phantom so small and vulnerable, embarrassing himself like that, crying and moaning as he wet himself, completely losing control.

“Oh, Bug… you're such a mess…” He lowered his gaze to look at him trying to hide what had just happened, but his legs, as well as the sheets underneath them, were completely soaked.

“Fuck…” he cried one last time before reaching his climax. Rain’s eyes rolled back into his head and with one last thrust he came deep inside of the little ghoul, moaning louder than any of them expected.

Phantom's grip on the sheets got tighter, feeling the water ghoul coming inside of him was enough to make his own orgasm explode too. For a minute, it made him forget about how incredibly embarrassed he was. Well, apparently Rain enjoyed it, though.

The quint ghoul desperately moaned his name as he kept riding his orgasm, feeling a beautiful relief.

The water ghoul slowly pulled out and Dewdrop helped Phantom lie down on the bed, whispering to him some sweet ‘good boy’ and ‘so nice’. Rain positioned himself on the other side of him and started gently caressing his chest. Dewdrop kissed him, the quint ghoul squirming as he felt those warm lips pressed against his.

“Bug, that was so fucking hot,” Rain commented with a dreamy moan. “Fuck, you have to do it more often.”

“So fucking hot,” Dewdrop echoed, “you did so good for us.”

They clearly knew Phantom had always had a thing for being praised. He whined, his dick quickly getting hard again. Rain carefully wrapped his hand around it and the quint ghoul answered with a pathetic moan. He started slowly stroking him, still letting some nice praises out.

“Look at yourself, our pretty, good boy,” the fire ghoul spoke again as he started plucking at Phantom's nipples with his hot fingers. “So pretty when you cry our names.”

The water ghoul gave him a kiss on the cheek, Phantom shivered at how cold his lips were.

“I didn't know you could make such pretty noises,” he told him, nothing but teasing. “Fuck, Bug, you're so hot.”

Against every expectation, Phantom came again, hard, crying out loud the two ghouls’ names as he shot hot, sweet pleasure all over his chest and Rain's hand. His vision got blurry, almost blacking out, Dewdrop and Rain barely managing to keep him with them.

“We love you so much, Bug,” the fire ghoul whispered in his ear. Phantom answered with the cutest, soft smile.

Maybe he did pass out for a short moment, because next thing he knows he's sprawled out in an armchair, lights on, and being wiped down with a wet cloth by Rain. When his eyes focused, Phantom saw Dewdrop putting on fresh sheets on their bed. Oh… right.

“‘m sorry,” he whined, embarrassment washing over him again.

“Nuh-uh, don’t apologize,” Rain tutted, coming up to kiss Phantom’s forehead. “You were perfect.”

Soon enough, the fire ghoul called for them, “Done. It’s 3 a.m., let’s get some sleep.”

Rain threw one more soft smile in Phantom’s direction and picked him up. Dew turned the lights off as the young ghoul wiggled under the covers, cuddling up to Rain’s chest. Dewdrop crawled in behind him, wrapping his arms around Phantom’s middle and shoving his face into his shaggy hair. Before they all dozed off, one more shiver went through the quint ghoul’s body at the delicious temperature difference.

#hypnone writes #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #the band ghost #nameless ghouls

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papercorgiworld · 1 year

Text

A fine husband

Sebastian Sallow and you are professors at Hogwarts.

A little silly drama with a smutty ending! So beware!

Though Sebastian no longer uses dark spells he’s still very interested in the dark arts. His latest obsession was with a book written by one of Salazar Slytherin’s students. He had heard you talk about it to one of the other professors. He had asked you about it, but you immediately changed the subject.

“If you would simply share your knowledge. I wouldn’t have to do this.” He muttered to himself as he stood in front of your office door. “Alohomora.” He said and your door unlocked. He headed directly to the shelves filled with books and started scanning through them. Completely lost in all his curiosity he didn’t notice you walking in. You stared at the scene in front of you for a moment. Unbelievable. You knew exactly why he was here. He definitely was something.

You addressed him like you would a student. “Professor Sallow! What do you think you’re doing?” Your stern voice startled Sebastian. He quickly pretended to look like he was casually hanging around. He looked like a lost boy for a moment, but quickly returned to his smug self. “How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Sebastian.” You frowned rather annoyed. “Looking for something?” You asked as you walked past him and over to your desk. You laid a bundle of essays on your desk that you planned on grading, before you encountered Sebastian burgling. He watched you intently weighing his options.

As a student he would have lied his way out of this, but as a professor it was best to be honest. “I’m looking for the book you and Sharp were talking about yesterday.” You smiled. Suspicion confirmed, you thought. “I don’t have it.” You lied and Sebastian knew by the way you avoided eye contact. He got a little closer to your desk and smiled. “Are you sure?” He said rather suggestively and he waited for you to make eye contact with him. “Because I thought maybe we could trade.” You let out a laugh. “What could you possibly offer me?” You sounded rather arrogant, but you had more books and artifacts than any other professor. In addition to books and artifacts, you had also collected some of the most valuable plants and materials and whatever you didn’t have you could simply buy. Your Gringotts vault was well stocked.

“I heard you’re in need of a fine husband.” Sebastian blurred out. He had overheard in the three broomsticks that your last date failed. The people around you knew that you really wanted to get married and start a family. Everyone else your age already had a family of their own and here you were still buried in books like a student with no man in sight. However true, your mouth still dropped at what Sebastian had just said. Sebastian was a bit shocked by himself, but he couldn’t back down now. “I also heard you would like a child. I could… arrange that.” Sebastian’s face heated up a bit by the suggestion he had just made, but your face went full tomato.

“You are unbelievable! You are a child, Sallow! But definitely not the kind I’m looking for!” You grabbed a book that lay nearby and went over to him to violently smack him with it. Your yelling and your aggressiveness made Sebastian quickly back up towards the door. Before he could say anything else you slammed the door closed.

Sebastian looked around to see some students observing the scene with wide eyes. Two professors arguing that would be good gossip. Sebastian put on his professor's face and the students quickly made their way to class.

***

That evening in the great hall Sebastian couldn’t help but stare. Why did he suggest himself. Was he willing to trade himself for a book? No, that wasn’t it. You caught him staring and he quickly looked at his plate. His cheeks heated up like he was a love struck teenager. It was then that he realized that he had wanted to ask you out for quite some time. Never actually doing it might very well be the reason he did something as desperate and stupid as today. The things he had said surely ruined the possibility of you ever going out with him.

After dinner Sebastian had spent an hour pacing in his room. He had to apologize. What he had said was highly inappropriate. “She’s never going to forgive me.” He muttered to himself. “What have I done?” He sighed and let himself fall down in his armchair. “She’ll never forgive me.” He dropped his head back in desperation. His mind dwelled on all the nights he had spent thinking about being with you gently and intimately. “A child. I could… arrange that.” He again was talking to himself as he reached for a bottle of firewhiskey. He laughed at his own stupidity, playing the scene again and again, as he brought the glass to his lips. Before he took a sip a wise thought formed in his mind. I should apologize before I get drunk. With that thought he headed down the hall to your chambers.

You were intently staring at the book that lay at the cause of today’s incident. You replayed Sebastian’s words in your head. You were so angry with him. How could he joke about something so serious as your wish for love. Definitely since ‘he’ was the main reason you hadn’t found anyone. It was his fault you had fallen in love with him and his charming attitude. You huffed in anger at the hours you wasted thinking about him. Arrange me a child, you thought to yourself, what was he gonna do: steal a kid and hand it over to you? You continued sulking in your chair until there was a nock on the door.

You opened it and to your surprise there he stood with an awkward smile on his face. “Come trade yourself for that book?” You mocked him. You didn’t even give him a chance to answer as you simply turned to grab the book. “Here you go.” You huffed, avoiding all eye contact as you extended the book to him. You were harsher than he had expected. “I don’t want it.” Now you looked even more frustrated than before, but you did look at him. “Take it. I know you want it badly. Why else would you offer to be my ‘fine husband’?” You said annoyed and again avoided all eye contact as you gestured the book again. Now Sebastian was getting frustrated with you. Sure what he said was stupid, but you had to at least give him a chance to apologize. “I’m not here for the book. I’m here to apologize.” Your jaw clenched as you stared down your furniture. “It’s fine, Sallow. Just take the book.” You tried to sound stern, but your voice came out all shaky. Why always the last name, Sebastian’s frustration grew. “Sebastian.” He said and tried to search for your eyes. He sighed when you continued to avoid his gaze. At this you did look up, maybe you were overreacting. Your face relaxed and you forced a smile. “Please, just take it.”

You wanted him out of your room. You couldn’t even look at him. You didn’t want his stupid apologies. You wanted him to come true to his words and be your fine husband. The moment you saw him standing there with that apologizing smile and puppy eyes you had made your mind up: if you couldn’t have him then he couldn’t be anywhere near you.

Sebastian slightly opened his mouth. He was probably going to say something, but suddenly your lips were on his. He was shocked, but that didn’t stop him from softly kissing back. When you ended the kiss and saw his eyes open, you panicked. Immediately you reached for your wand laying nearby you. “Obli-“ Sebastian firmly wrapped his hand around yours, keeping you from waving your wand and casting obliviate. You were consumed by embarrassment and started to stutter. “You-you need to forget this. This. This never happened. I shouldn’t…” You fell quiet and slightly looked at Sebastian. Your eyes met his and they were filled with softness. He gently cupped your cheek, while still firmly holding onto your hand and wand. As he came closer you stumbled against a wall. Embarrassed and now also cornered as Sebastian leaned over you, you looked at him. His lips parted as he gently pressed his against yours. Never had you expected something so soft to come from Sebastian.

When you both parted Sebastian barely moved away from your face. His breath warming your already heated face. His eyes never leaving yours. “Please, don’t make me forget.” He begged with an endearing whisper. His hand slowly letting go of yours as he reached for your wand. You let him take it and he placed it on the table near you. He tossed the book you gave him onto a chair. Bringing all his focus to you. If it wasn’t for the wall that was supporting you, you would surely have lost balance under his gaze.

His arm next to you supported him while his other hand slowly made his way to your side. You looked at his messy hair and gentle face as he stared you down. When his hand gently rested on your hip he leaned in. As soon as your lips touched all rationality left the room. Your hand slipped to the back of his neck and he wrapped his arm around your lower back, pulling you against him. “y/n?” He wanted to ask something, but your name came out like a moan. “Yes. Sallow.” You said teasingly as you smiled against his lips. “I’m not a man of empty words.” He finally managed to say between kisses. “I would make a fine husband.” You pushed his chest to create some space between you two. He stared at you, adoring you, as you smiled your most beautiful smile while a giggle escaped your mouth.

“Prove it, Sallow.” You said as you moved slightly to close the door and then push Sebastian on your bed. His eyes never left yours as he loosened his tie, while his other hand was placed on your hip. You both roamed each other hungrily as you settled, seated onto his lap. Sebastian’s fingers dug deep in your skin as he held you as close as possible, but it still wasn’t enough. He reached for his wand in his back pocket, whispering a spell so soft you didn’t realize what it was until the buttons of your chemise loosed gently. Like nothing happened he reached for your breast. He looked at you pleased with what he had done. You quickly disregarded your shirt, allowing him to get rid of the last piece of clothing covering your breasts. Sebastian was hungry for you and was already moving his mouth towards your chest, when you stopped him gesturing that it was his turn to take off clothing. Annoyed by the interruption he tore a button and simply pulled his shirt over his head. Without looking where his clothing had landed he grabbed your breast again, while his mouth took in the other.

Your only response to what he was making you feel, was grinding against him with every move he made. With your skirt driven all the way up, your panties were the only thing covering pussy as you pushed yourself onto Sebastian’s hardening dick still tucked in his pants. You damned Sebastian as he took his sweet time with you. Your hand slowly moved from his chest to his abdomen to undo his pants, earning you a soft moan from Sebastian. Now it was your turn to take your sweet time with him. Gently stroking the head and using his precum to pump the little Sallow in his pants. His kisses became more sloppy and his breathing heaving as you entertained his dick in your hands. His arms around you pulled close and he kissed one of your breasts passionately.

“I want you.” His husky voice managed between groans and moans. “I need you.” He added with more hunger in his tone as his hands grabbed a hold of your ass. You let out a little squeak at his rough touch. You teased him with a slow kiss and no direct answer to his desire. Not a game Sebastian wanted to play as he reached for his wand once more. Suddenly, all the last bits of clothing were somewhere else in the room. You looked at him a little annoyed, an undressing spell, really cheap Sallow. Not that Sebastian would notice your annoyance as he was staring at your glinstering cunt with an amused smile. His thumb gently stroked your pussy and instinctively you moved to give him all the access he needed. As much as you enjoyed the circles he was drawing around your sensitive spot, you wanted more of him than just his fingers. “Sebastian, I’m wet. I’m ready for you.” Sebastian smirked, finally his first name rolled off your tongue. Not waiting for him, you reached for his cock letting it gently roam your entrance, teasing both yourself and Sebastian. “Y/n.” He breathed and he pushed his hips up to show his eagerness.

Giving in you lowered yourself, feeling how he filled you up. The feeling of him fully inside you made your stomach turn and twist. You placed your hand on his body to steady yourself. Sebastian reached for your hips to support you. His eyes observing your face to make sure you were alright. One hand reaching up towards your face putting a few strands of hair behind your ear. You gently started to move, but quickly adjusted and wanted more. As caring as Sebastian wanted to be, he couldn’t help falling back on the bed and taking in every sensation. You pleased yourself with riding him exactly like you wanted. When you came close to your orgasm you called for Sebastian in your moans. He immediately lifted himself from the bed and grabbed your hips, helping you keep a steady pace while you were losing all control over your body. You grabbed Sebastian’s biceps to steady yourself while your orgasm flooded you and he continued now mercilessly using you for his pleasure. Moments after, he spilled all of him inside of you. He allowed himself to fall on your bed once again, he embraced you as you fell with him.

You both lay on your bed, heartbeats racing and breathing heavily. Sebastian was the one to break the silence. “You called me Sebastian.” You laughed at how unbelievable this man was. “You would make a fine husband.” You said and smiled against his chest. Sebastian stroked your hair. “Yeah, I would… and as a matter of factly, I think you would be a most wonderful wife.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow imagine #papercorgiworldwritings

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mrsmneme · 3 months

Text

A precious trip we have yearned for

for Ignoctweek2024 SFW Day 4 : Marriage Life (Proposal, Wedding, Honeymoon)

Warning : Angst with Romance

"It's been a long time since we sneaked out of Citadel together, right?" Noctis asked. He was driving his restored Regalia, his eyes still focused on the road ahead.

His question made Ignis smile while he was recalling his beautiful memories. As far as he could remember, the young Crown Prince of Lucis had had his retainer drive him out of the Citadel for a breath of fresh air on a weekly basis. Doing so had been enjoyable, and become much more delightful when the retainer had been aware of his affection for the prince.

Teenagers' chilling out could not compare to husbands' three-day trip at all, but they shared some similar vibes.

"If you mean going out together and completely alone, then yes." He replied, smiling at his beloved husband. "I'm so grateful and excited. But you don't have to bother planning the trip and driving me there yourself."

"You're buried in tons of work night and day. If it's not me, no one can drag you out." The King chuckled. "Besides, we never had a honeymoon yet."

He did not drive too fast. So they could take thier time to chitchat and enjoy beautiful sceneries. Noctis parked at a seaside rest stop with a nice garden nearby. He invited Ignis to stroll around and take some photos.

Ignis did miss this moment, when his gorgeous husband was in front of him in a picture-perfect scenery. The King looked fully relaxed today. He did not grow facial hair anymore. Doing so made him look much younger and, in Ignis' point of view, more beautiful. He took lots of photos of him. Noctis did likewise before pulled his husband close to take a self portrait.

The second rest stop to visit was a few kilometers from their destination. "This coffeeshop is highly rated. Want to try?" Noctis asked. He had researched so much. No doubt Ignis easily agreed. They made an order of a medium dark roasted black coffee for Ignis, a mocha coffee for Noctis and some pastries. The coffee and pastries were superb. Ignis enjoyed them so much that he asked Noctis to revisit the shop on the way back.

They arrived their destination, a luxury seaside hotel which they had never been. It was almost unbelievable to see a fast restoration to a perfect grandeur condition. "The restoration could be done this fast. Thanks to your hard work too, Iggy." Noctis told him when he admired the owners.

They dined in a private room of the hotel's restaurant. The atmosphere was perfect with soothing background music. The hotel did have a highly skilled kitchen brigade, every recipe was exceptionally tasty, and paired with fine wine. Noctis enjoyed fresh roasted seafood so much while Ignis tried so hard to identify the ingredients of their divine dipping sauce.

After their delightful dinner, they felt a bit full so they decided to went for a walk on the beach. The sky was clear with plenty of stars and pale cloud of milky way. They walked leisurely, chatted and smiled. Noctis grabbed Ignis' hand when cool breeze brushed throught them. Ignis held his hand back. And when he looked at his husband again with the starry sky behind him, he gently squeezed his hand and stepped closer until their shoulders brushed, as he realized he was so lucky to be loved by this man. After everything they had been through in order to be together, now he was here holding his hand, he would never let him go again.

When they were back in their room, it was Ignis' turn to take care. There were various scents of massage oil, aromatic shower gel, shampoo, bath bombs and cologne available in the bathroom. Ignis carefully chose and blended them for extra alluring and soothing effect for his exhaushed husband. First, he gave Noctis a brief massage to stretch and relax his neck and shoulder muscles. Then he prepared aromatic warm water in a round bathtub for him. Soaking in circular bath could enhance aromatherapy effects of scented warm water. And he would gave him a full body massage after that. It worked flawlessly. Noctis was so relaxed and sleepy but he tried so hard to stay awake. He rested his head on Ignis' shoulder as they lain cuddling peacefully in bed. The older man caressed his scalp and hair as they chatted. He felt like he still had so much stories to share with his husband who was never done listiening to him. They talked, smiled and laughted for a long while until the King eventually fell asleep.

In the dead of the night, though he was so tired but Ignis was still awake. He caressed his beloved husband's black hair and enjoyed the mesmerizing look of the man in his arms. In the dimmed light, he could see his beautiful thick eyelashes so well. He looked much more mature after coming back from the crystal. His eyebrows were thicker, his babyfat disappeared so his gorgeous cheekbones and jawline were easily noticeable. He now had wrinkles under his eyes but his eyelashes were almost the same, the most attractive eyelashes he had ever seen. But whether he would look, he was, and always was, his beloved Noctis.

"Too happy to sleep?" Noctis asked with a sleepy voice.

"I suppose I am." Ignis whispered, tugging strands of his husband's hair behind his ear.

"Glad you like it." The King smiled, caressing his husband's jawline.

"Thanks for this dream trip, Noct. I didn't realize I have yearned for it for a long time."

"You get what you deserve, Iggy. This can't compare to what you've done for me and burdens you've shared with me."

"It's always my pleasure. Your safety and happiness are my utmost priorities. I can sacrifice all of mine or endure everything awaited to see your smile."

"Thanks. But if you don't have a nice day off, how can I see your brilliant smile?" The King left a kiss on his husband's lips. "The most beautiful smile in the world."

Ignis woke up into darkness with a small degrees of light. He blinked a few times until he was certain about his current situation. Tears pooled and started dropping from the corners of his eyes. Ignis let them flow to his pillow, the one that had used to be Noctis'. He buried his head in the pillow and sob quietly as he realized that he had woken alone in the Crown Prince's bedroom in the Citadel. The room had a side door leading to the royal retainer's bedroom, so he had been able to keep their secrets about them sharing a bed. Noctis had usually told him that doing so had made him sleep more soundly.

After daybreak, he, as well as other Council's members, had come back and rebuilt the Citadel. He had claimed this bedroom to be his own and restored it to original condition. The decoration reminded him of his precious old memories, especially ones about King Noctis who had sacrificed his life saving the world.

The alarm went off. Ignis snoozed it and lain down, letting himself cry for a bit longer. The sweeter dream he had dreamt, the more severe heartbroken he felt as he realized such dream would never come true. When the alarm rang again, he wiped his tears and got up. He had lots of work awaited and a Council's meeting to attend.

He arrived his office before 7 a.m., as he always did. His assistants had already prepared reports and plans for him. He started working by examining the Citadel's daily progression reports and cash flow statement while he was sipping his first cup of coffee. He had to finish all reports before analyzing enormous number of requests and plans sent to the Citadel, and then the upcoming meeting's agenda, in order to make comments and conclusions for all of them.

He finished listening to the agenda shortly after his lunch, then he attended the Council's meeting at 1 p.m. All members, including Marshal Cor Leonis and Gladiolus Amiticia, now the Shield of Lucis, rose from their seats when he arrived. Ignis greeted them and started the meeting.

Being the Council's chairman was not what he had expected. He had been trained to be Noctis' hand and advisor, so he had always imagined his older self sitting by Noctis' side and providing him all available information at the meeting. Even after he knew his lover's fate, he had not figured out. Because he had not dared imagining about his life after losing the one whom he loved the most.

During world of ruins, He had waited for him, wishing to touch him and hear his voice again. When they had reunited in Hammerhead. His dream had come true. They fell into each other's arms, caressing and whispering all sweet words they could.

After ten-year disappearing, Noctis had much more to catch up. Moreover, his comrades found that their King was over exhausted and dehydrated, so they ask him to rest for a more few days before their departure.

The four of them chatted a lot about their past and plans in their future. Ignis found that Noctis usually chose to play along when they talked about their plans in the future. He might know he would not survive his final mission. When Cor visited him hours later, they talked about how he and his team managed the city and organized the hunters and guards. The Marshal could barely handle all burdens and implied that he was so glad to welcome his King. But Noctis confirmed that he was destined to sacrifice himself on the throne of Lucis. Although he could help consulting him but he could not lend him a hand after his mission completed. His affirmation led to an unexpectedly heartbroken atmostphere among them, especially Gladiolus and Prompto.

After the Marshal's leaving, three of them embraced him firmly. Prompto fumbled his thanks and apology to him, Gladiolus shed his tears while telling him again and again how he was the best but Ignis just gently wrapped his arm around his lover's shoulders without a word. Noctis returned hugs to all of them. He looked calm. But Ignis could feel some anxiety in his voice, something that showed he was uneasy.

After spending hours crying, the brothers' feelings were better. They decide to make every moment together more pleasurable. They changed the subject to memorable or joyful ones, which could make them smile. They laughed a lot during their dinner and they promised to have another joyful day before they parted.

But Ignis could still feel some concern in Noctis' voice and gestures, so when they were alone in their caravan, he wrapped his hand around his lover's waist and asked.

"What's on your mind, Noct?"

"For years Astrals prepared me for my callings but my duties as a King." He sighed, holding his lover's hand in his own. "Would you mind if I ask you for something selfish, like I'll trouble you again?"

"No, and I never would. Just go ahead." Ignis turned his head towards his lover, his free hand caressing his cheek. He could feel the tension from his jaw.

Eventually, Noctis poured his heart out. "What if I, umm, ask you to marry me?"

"May I ask you for your reason?" He asked quietly.

"Because of our status, you always tell me that you're fine to be just my secret love. You never ask for your special status or announcing our relationship, let alone wedding plan. For me, your love and your care are much more than I can asked. And I'll be ok to stay like this all my life if you want to. But I'm a king. My country is in a mess. It'll be my responsibility to restore it but I can't do it myself cause I have to die first. And it's so hard to find someone doing it for me cause I don't have any relative, not even a Council's member to take charge for me. And, you know, Cor accepted that he and his team can't do it without your help." He cleared his throat. "I'll need someone inherit and manage my family's stuff during rebuilding our country. Someone who'll gain most respect and always have the final say. And I trust you." He gently squeezed his lover's hand. "You were trained to be my advisor. You know full well how to operate the city and perhaps the whole country. And you are my love, my only love of my life." He cupped his lover's cheek. Then he continued with slightly trembling voice. "We've been together for so long. It's time to treasure our love more. Would you be also my husband who'll take all my stuff after my death?"

"When I told you, 'Don't be afraid to let us share the load', I meant it, and I've never changed my mind. So I'll say yes." He leaned closer until their foreheads touched. "I'll restore our beloved country with sufficient use of your legacy and utmost diligence. You have my word, my love and my King."

"Thank you." Noctis whispered, pulling his lover to a kiss. His tears ran down his cheeks to wet Ignis' hand. The older man wiped them gently from his cheeks as they broke the kiss. The younger man kissed his palm, tears running down one after another.

"I used to doubt why lots of lovers cry during their proposal scenes. But, now, me too." He chuckled.

"It's alright to cry tears of joy, isn't it?" Ignis' smile widened as he pulled his husband-to-be to another kiss.

Gladio, Prompto and Cor were informed in the next morning. They helped preparing a simplest wedding ceremony, exchanging rings and vows. Noctis found his casual royal ring, a classic black one with a small black and silver Lucis emblem, in his retrieved luggage. While Ignis had a crownsguard Insignia ring, the symbol of crownsguard training completion. Both rings were not designed to be exchanged in a wedding ceremony, but they were wholeheartedly accepted by both of them.

All Cor's administrative team and the Council's member-to-be were invited to the ceremony. Prompto took a lot of photos, as he would need them to introduce Ignis' new status. Upon his request, The King would not grant him any Royal title. But he would still carry his name, as Mr. Ignis Stupeo Scientia-Caelum, The King's husband.

After the ceremony, they had another night to prepare for their final mission. Then they headed to Insomnia, fighting daemons and Ardyn with all their might, until the darkness was dispersed at a cost of King Noctis' life.

Cor and all volunteers moved to Insomnia and started rebuilding as soon as they could. Since no one claimed the throne, they decided to form the Council as the only administrative body of the country. And they agreed unanimously to choose Ignis, The Late King's widower and only heir, to be the Lord Chancellor and the head of the Council.

Everyone put as much efforts as they could to restore their beloved country. Ignis was the one who worked hardest. He kept himself being buried under his work. He worked between 12 to 16 hours a day, with 2 shifts of assistants.

Such routine had worsened his health. But The rebuilding and restoration's pace had been very fast. So the Lord Chancellor had insisted on working, as keeping his promise.

It was almost 6 pm when the Council's meeting was over. All members were back to their places. Ignis decided to have some fresh air at the citadel's rooftop before returning to his office. The sun was not set. He could still sense some degrees of light.

Nowadays sunlight reminded him of the King of Kings, the man who had sacrificed his life to bring it back. He was the one he always missed. His sweet dream last night had made him miss him more.

Their marrying had been for the sake of their country. Their time together had been numbered. So they had never honeymooned. But he had not realized that he had yearned for it so much. Maybe his subconscious mind had tried to comfort himself by arranging a wish-fulfillment dream.

But he was curious about his appearance. He knew 30-year-old Noctis had looked much more mature with his facial hair, more resembling his father, as shown in his vision. But Noctis in his dream had not looked that mature. He had had no facial hair at all, and that had made him look slightly more mature than his 20-year-old self, the look that he had never seen, or expected before.

Was it the evidence of how he became in the afterlife now? Ignis did not have any proof of it and would never have.

But how Noctis had talked had been a bit odd too. He had often, too often, made comments about his hard working, his fatigue and the restoration's effeciency while they had had a delightful belated honeymoon trip.

Ignis knew that a lot of people had shown their concern about his health problems. Gladiolus and Cor had often warned him not to kill himself working that hard. He understood but seemed not to care.

'But if you don't have a nice day off, how can I see your brilliant smile? The most beautiful smile in the world.' Noctis had sometimes known the best way to persuade him and make his heart melt. And he could remember full well how he had done.

Perhaps his subconscious mind had done its best to arrange the most reliable warning and most relaxing dream to him. But if he still believed that such dream had been a message from his Noctis, it would be alright, too.

He kissed his wedding ring, recalling his memories about the one who had put the ring on his finger. The Lord Chancellor smiled and whispered his reply to his beloved late husband.

'Noct,

I hope you're doing well.

The restoration is still in progress. We've made it faster than I imagined, but our to-do list is still very, very long.

It might take some decades. Please keep waiting.

About the last night dream trip, was it really you?

If yes, it means the world. I did enjoy it.

Would you please take me there again when I join you at the other side?

I'll try not to push myself too hard. I promise.

Love you always.

Ignis.'

#final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #ffxv #ff15 #ffxv fanart #ffv fanfiction #noctis lucis caelum #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #cor leonis #prompto argentum #honeymoon #marriage proposal #story with arts #angst and romance

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p1nkcanoe · 1 year

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Bratty Mountain. He deserves to be on the other side of it for once, as a little treat you know? He's acting up, testing the new ghoul to see if he means buisness (he does)

Ace Up My Sleeve

[ phantom x mountain smut ]

summary: phantom is perpetually horny and refuses to ask anyone for help. mountain is determined to change that. warnings: masturbation, rough oral sex, teasing words: 3982

!! Phantom is described as being a young ghoul. Although the ‘teenager phase’ is mentioned, Phantom is a fully mature ghoul and is nowhere near actually being “young”. The phrase refers to the idea of being newly summoned and getting used to a new body and its urges.

Click here to read on Ao3 or read below:

Phantom has been settling in well. He’s a quick learner, gets along with everyone, is never angry, he’s truly the perfect ghoul to have around. Not to also mention that he’s sweet and energetic, charming in all the right ways, but he’s also young. Really young. Even for a ghoul he’s far younger in his years than anyone else. Where some ghouls in the den are pushing multiple millennia, Phantom can’t possibly have more than 200. Even Sunshine, who at one point had been the youngest, just added a revolution to her 800-something. And there’s nothing wrong with a young ghoul. He’s well past maturity–responsible and independent–but he’s still in what Copia once described as the equivalent of the ‘teenager phase.’

He eats through everything they have in the kitchen, rifles through the pantry and the freezer just to grumble about there being ‘nothing good’, stays up for days at a time playing video games on the console he stole from the common room until someone has to turn it off and tear open his curtains… but he’s also unbelievably horny. And it’s painfully obvious.

The smallest things turn him on. He’d popped a boner at the sight of Cumulus walking past his room towards the laundry in a plain cotton bralette, excused himself from their lake day last week right after Rain rolled his shorts up impossibly higher while sunning on the lawn, and even yesterday the smallest sliver of Swiss’ exposed tummy while he reached upwards for his morning stretch sent the ghoul into a stuttering, inarticulate loss for words between bites of his waffle. Everything gets him worked up and not once has he asked someone to help him. Mountain is going to change that.

It’s late at night when Mountain considers making his first move. He’s walking through the halls with a handful of dirty dishes when he hears the ghoul groaning in frustration through the heavy walnut door that guards his bedroom. The gap between the floor and the bottom edge of the door gives him away, evidence of worn floorboards and leveled stone underneath. It’s a rookie mistake to not invest in some sort of soundproofing. It’s not the first time the earth ghoul has heard him, but usually he doesn't sound so… exerted. It’s clear he’s been at it for a while with no sign of release, and Mountain stops right outside that door, listens as he groans and grunts and curses between gritted teeth and listens to the little fap fap fap as his hand flies over his shaft. Even with the door closed he smells delicious. He almost bends at the waist to set down his dishes and invite himself in but something in his head tells him not to. He shouldn’t. He doesn’t want to scare him. He doesn’t want to embarrass the ghoul or make him uncomfortable. A ghoul’s bedroom is their sacred space, afterall. So he shakes off the thought instead and finishes taking his dishes to the sink. He goes to bed and dreams up more natural approaches to getting the ghoul on his dick.

Turns out it’s a lot harder than it seems.

—

He finds his first attempt in the common room, where the game console has been returned due to popular demand, and Phantom sits engrossed in one of Dew’s first-person shooters. He fails to acknowledge when Mountain saunters in and settles in one of the armchairs, lounging lazily with his arms up and his legs spread. He’s fresh from a nap and dressed solely in an old pair of gray sweats. He hadn’t bothered to throw on a shirt or pull on a pair of boxers, especially after being woken up to obnoxious game noises, and had instead toyed around with himself in the haze of waking up in the middle of the day. He sits, watches with faux interest, and his cock sits pretty against his thigh–just enough to be obvious but not alarming to anyone else who may wander through.

Phantom plays on obliviously. His fingers mash over buttons and drag against the sticks of his controller and the character on screen barrels through a line of enemies. Combo x4, the screen reads, and Phantom makes a pleased noise to himself.

“What’s the game?” Mountain asks, forcing himself to sound interested in the game he’s watched Dew play for hours at a time. Phantom turns his head, catching Mountain’s eyes before letting his eyes flick down his torso and towards his hips. He opens his mouth but his voice paralyzes in his throat when he sees it. “It’s– oh, um,” he stutters, glues his eyes back to his controller and his equally as paralyzed fingers. The screen lights up with red.

You Died, Press x to Retry.

“You okay?”

Phantom goes red in the face, mashes the x button more times than necessary to respawn, and Mountain smirks. “Yeah, yeah, I’m cool.”

Phantom stumbles around for the right buttons to press. He walks into walls, accidentally throws out his selected weapon, and keeps getting penalized for damaging allies. He’s doing terribly, and it makes Mountain want to laugh out loud. In the span of the next three minutes he manages to die in game two more times and make so many mistakes that his teammates end up kicking him from the lobby altogether. But even when the title screen shows back up and the message appears in front of his face he never gets angry. He fumbles around for the controls again and clears his throat when Mountain spreads his legs a little wider.

There he goes, Mountain thinks when Phantom hastily adjusts his body from sitting criss-cross on the carpet to sitting back on his butt against the couch with his legs crossed tight to hide his little boner. It’s too easy. Just to get him worked up a little more, Mountain adjusts himself in his pants, grips at himself to a more comfortable position, and Ant audibly curses under his breath, drops his eyes to his lap. He waits for the ghoul to make a move. He can see it in the way his hands shake that he wants to. He’s fighting himself.

Do it, he wants to say. Get up. Touch me. He waits another handful of agonizing minutes and finally Ant makes a move– “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” He pushes himself up to his feet and shuffles awkwardly into the hall. By the time he comes back Mountain is gone.

—

His second attempt hadn’t been much of an attempt at all. In fact, it had been completely unintentional the effect he’d had on the ghoul.

The entire pack had gathered together for a movie night of some random romantic comedy that the girls had suggested. They’d spent an hour setting up pillows and blankets into comfy nests where ghouls and ghoulettes could cuddle up together for the duration of the film. Phantom had chosen a spot on the floor and fit himself snugly between Aether’s side and the bottom edge of a couch, Mountain had decided to take over the loveseat on the far side of the room. He’d fluffed it up with pillows and the velvet throw from his own bed, and by the time it was time for the movie to start Sunshine had decided his spot was now their spot to share. And he didn’t mind. Her warmth pressed into his side and her head on his chest is always a pleasant feeling.

It takes about forty minutes for Mountain to lose interest in the film. It’s not like it’s a bad movie– it’s actually really good–but Sunshine is beginning to get handsy and when she slips a warm palm under his shirt to pluck at a nipple he can’t help but get a little distracted.

When he pulls her in by a hand under her chin she chirps in surprise when he bites at her lip and immediately soothes it with his tongue. They fall into it after that, pressed together as close as possible on a cramped couch, and they’re quiet about it for the most part so nobody pays them much attention. But Mount can feel it–those mismatched eyes. They’re burning into him from across the room and it makes him smile against soft lips. The ghoulette sucks on his tongue. He drops his hands to her ass and squeezes. She lets out a giggle and the kiss goes dirty.

He takes quick little glances across the room, catches the other ghoul’s eyes over and over, and stares back with hooded eyes when the ghoulette latches onto his neck. Mountain hisses at the scrape of her fangs against his jugular, rolls his eyes back, and Phantom never looks away. Mountain watches from the corner of his eye as the young quintessence ghoul tries to act like the movie is interesting, as he tries to act like he isn’t infatuated by the couple just a few feet away, but he fails. Miserably.

Mountain grabs at Sunshine’s thighs, gropes her soft skin and forces her closer and closer to where he needs her to be until she settles right over his chubby cock and begins to subtly grind. The groan that escapes past his lips is accidental and someone from the floor throws a pillow that hits him in the side of the head, but he’s too far gone to just stop there. He breaks away from Sunny, gives her a goofy smile, and guides her away carefully so that he can stand. Phantom’s eyes burn holes into him the entire way. He apologizes to his pack in a way that doesn’t reflect his true intentions, offers the ghoulette his hand to go finish what they’ve started in a more private setting, and wiggles his eyebrows at the young ghoul when he excuses himself. Phantom shifts against Aether’s side under the eyes of the earth ghoul and Aether grunts, pulls him closer with an arm behind his back and traps him there.

Mountain disappears into the darkness of the hall.

—

The third time he catches Phantom alone and vulnerable, he’s sure he’ll break him. He times it all perfectly. Everyday around 9:00 after dinner has been cleaned up and the pack starts settling down in their rooms, Phantom heads into the bathing room to brush his teeth and freshen up before bed. Mountain’s memorized his routine, the products he uses to keep his skin smooth and hydrated and in which order he applies them, knows that he spends approximately ten minutes standing at the vanity on his phone while his facemask dries, and always finishes by applying some kind of oil to his two-toned hair. It’s a little after nine when Mountain hears the pad of his feet pass his bedroom and push open the massive door that guards the bathing room.

Right on time; like clockwork.

Mountain allows the ghoul a handful of minutes to get into his routine and busy himself at the vanity. In the meantime, Mountain strips down bare and pulls his towel from the hook behind the door, wraps it tightly around his waist and tucks it at the hip. He lets it hang a little low just for emphasis.

Phantom is applying the same green salve to his face when Mountain walks in. He offers the ghoul a hello and gets a muffled one in return as he applies the mask to the skin above his lip. He doesn’t receive any more obvious attention apart from casual glances through the mirror, but Mountain knows he watches as he drops the towel from around his waist and wades into the bathing pool.

It’s innocent, domestic and familiar, and Phantom pays him no obvious attention. And so Mountain goes through his own routine of picking a bottle of sweet smelling soap from the vast selection on the pool’s edge and squirting a generous amount into his hand, spreading it into his hair until it gets all bubbly and slippery, and then wading deeper into the pool to dunk his entire body and wash it all out. The surface of the pool gurgles when he goes under and the air blooms rich with lavender and bergamot. Mountain emerges from underneath and wrings the water from his thick hair with his hands, reaches for the bottle again to lather his body with soap. He puts on a show, touches at his skin deliberately and slowly, and shines up the smooth planes of his chest and patches of dense hair. Phantom watches him in longer glances now and Mountain watches right back with dark, sultry eyes. Inviting. Alluring. He backs himself up against the edge of the pool and leans back. The suds stuck to his skin slide down with thick droplets of water. He should dunk himself, cleanse himself of the excess, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drags a hand through the suds and drops it to his half hard cock, stroking himself with the slick and moaning softly at the pleasant stimulation.

At the sink, Phantom has gone rigid. He actively tries to ignore the sight behind him but when he looks up into the mirror to brush his teeth he can’t help but take a little peek. Mount keeps rubbing at himself and groaning through his teeth when he squeezes at the head. It’s a sight too hot to ignore and Mountain is practically begging him to become his voyeur when he throws his head back and pulls at himself deliberately from root to tip. Water splashes up onto that gorgeous chest. His tail swishes back and forth below the surface. Phantom grips the edge of the vanity so hard his knuckles turn white and his claws squeak against dark marble. His toothbrush stays bitten between sharp teeth… and he watches unabashedly through the reflection.

When Mountain brings a hand up to pull and pluck at a pebbled nipple Phantom finally caves, but not fully. He drops the toothbrush from his mouth and it clatters into the bowl, rolling around the curve before settling somewhere at the bottom, and he grabs at his chubbed cock through his flannels. Mountain grins. He’s been putting on shows for the ghoul all week but just the sight of the ghoul giving in just enough to touch himself makes flames lick at his belly.

He surprises himself when he opens his mouth, lets his head hang low, and moans out into the peaceful lull of the bathing room- “Ahhhh, Ant-” He hears the sharp intake of the smaller ghoul’s breath. “I know you want it. Can see it on your face. On your body…”

This is it, he thinks. He’s got him wrapped around his finger, all he has to do is-

There’s a clatter of objects. A sudden and hurried noise. And Mountain looks up to watch as Phantom gathers up all of his things and hurries for the door. The bulge in his flannels is obvious and sticks out even more with his clear lack of underwear. “Goodnight, Ant,” Mountain says, a tinge of disappointment laced into his words. “Night,” Phantom mumbles back. The door closes heavy behind him and Mountain rolls his eyes.

So close…

He might as well finish getting himself off.

—

Mountain feels wholly defeated when he shuffles back into his bedroom. He hangs his towel up on the hook, pulls on a pair of boxers and a tshirt from the drawer, and gives himself a once-over in the mirror. His hair is still wet. Droplets drip from messy strands and soak little circles into the fabric of his tee. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, evidence of his recent orgasm, and his lips are bitten red. He doesn’t feel tired but he looks it.

He’s about to head to bed and peel back the sheets for an early turn-in when there’s a knock at his door. His brow furrows, his door should be unlocked. Nevertheless the ghoul walks across the room, where he twists the knob and pulls it open to a much unexpected guest. He doesn’t get to mutter a word before Phantom invites himself in and grips the earth beast by the neck, shoving him into the cold stone of his wall.

He looks angry, disheveled. Like he tried too hard to think about something and ended up cracking. Phantom kicks the door closed behind him, gets all up in Mountain’s face… the best he can with their significant height difference. He smells like soap and mint and lust. Mountain snickers despite the press of sharp claws into the sides of his neck.

“You finally come to your senses, bug boy?”

“You think you’re so smart, teasing me all week, getting me all worked up…” He fixes his eyes to Mountain’s mouth where he licks over a sharp fang and pulls him closer until they’re centimeters apart. “I knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Then why didn't you do anything about it?”

“Because I didn't want you to think you were in control.”

“Then prove it.”

The young ghoul grips the taller by a horn and pulls him down roughly to smash their lips together. Mountain moans at the taste of his tongue between his lips. He tastes like toothpaste and something sweet and intoxicating. Mountain tries to deepen the kiss, to slide his tongue against the other’s already in his mouth and he yelps in surprise at the feeling of a fang catching on the soft inside of his lip. He smells it first, rich and metallic, and then tastes it when Phantom licks at him hot and wild and slides it into his mouth.

The grip on his horn is unrelenting. It pulls and twists and forces the ghoul to comply with its movements to keep the teasing beast at bay. But even more is the pressure on his neck. He adjusts his fingers and readjusts again, never completely letting up on the pressure, but then he finds Mountain’s carotid artery and hones in on that sweet spot between his jaw and his ear and Mountain starts to go fuzzy. He goes brainless, drunk off of the floaty feeling in his head, and chases the taste of the other ghoul on his tongue. Any ounce of previous defiance and surprise flies out the window only to be replaced with something confusing that he wouldn't quite call submission, but the unexpected dominant demeanor definitely is intriguing. He goes fuzzy in the brain, and weak in the knees, lets his eyes fall closed, and right when he’s about to tap out that hand around his neck releases him and he floods with sweet, sweet oxygen, gasps, and moans lazily into his mouth against open lips.

When he opens his eyes he looks straight into mismatched ones. Locked on. Predatory. Consuming. This was not at all the way he expected this to go, but who is he to complain with another ghoul’s hand around his neck?

“Get on your knees. Suck my cock and finish what you started.”

Phantom pulls away just enough to help force the massive ghoul to his knees and Mountain groans. The ache at the base of his skull feels like lightning down his spine. He knows he should keep his mouth shut–just fall to his knees like he’s been told to–but he can’t. He looks up despite being forced to look downwards, snickers between fangs still laced with poison. “I’m surprised you're not taking care of it yourself. Tired of jerking yourself to the point of exhaustion?”

Phantom growls. A pretty rumble from deep in his chest.

“You talk too much. Too confident. Doesn't anyone ever tell you to shut your mouth?”

“This is unlike you. Who knew the new guy had it in him?”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

With a final shove Mountain’s knees hit the floor.

“I know enough, like how you’re scared to ask for help getting your dick wet.”

Phantom scoffs, pulls himself out of his pants and gives it a few pulls. He has a gorgeous cock–speckled pink and gray in an irregular pattern and shiny at the tip–Mountain can’t wait to put it in his mouth.

“I’m not scared, but you didn't ask either.”

There’s some truth to that, so Mountain shrugs in a passive sort of surrender and lets his tongue loll out past his lips when Phantom inches him closer by his massive, curling horns. “That’s what I thought,” he mumbles and slides into that hot, wet mouth.

Mountain knows he is in for it when Phantom slides in wholly to the hilt, when he holds Mountain there for a few seconds just to see his eyes well up and sting, and then lets go of himself to grab onto that other horn. He grips Mountain’s head like he’s an object for his pleasure; a toy. The earth ghoul grips the bottom hem of his tshirt in his fists, tries not to touch, but he starts to shake when Phantom forces him impossibly deeper and buries the earth ghoul’s nose in his hair. Mountain struggles to breathe, but he breathes in the heady smell of Phantom and hums around the obstruction in his throat.

After a long and torturous minute Phantom pulls out. He rubs the ruddy head of his cock against swollen and spit-slicked lips with little turns of his skinny hips, moaning at how easily it slides against messy skin. He’s going to fuck his face. Mountain knows it. His own cock jumps in his boxers and he holds back a little noise in his throat. For once, he holds his tongue.

Phantom does exactly what Mountain thinks he’s going to do. He pulls him back onto his cock and holds him still, uses his mouth like a toy to get off, and Mountain lets him because maybe he deserves it. All of his teasing, and his attempts to seduce the young ghoul into his bed, had caught up with him. He relaxes his throat as much as he can, flattens his tongue against the bottom ridge of his teeth, and takes it.

“Fuck,” Phantom curses. “You’re a lot more pleasant when you’re on your knees. Quiet. Pliant. It’s music to my ears.”

Mountain knows he isn’t quiet like Phantom said. He’s making all kinds of wet noises and drooling down his chin. He’s even gagged a couple of times when Phantom’s cock jabbed at the spot in the back of his throat, but he knows what he means. If he was in control of his body he’d probably pull off, spit something snarky back just to test the ghoul and find out how dedicated he is, but he can’t. He looks up through lashes stuck together by tears, catches sight of Phantom’s lip between his fangs and his brow scrunched up in pleasure. It makes his belly burn, he wishes he’d make a noise and stop trying to act like Mountain doesn’t feel good.

Mountain wraps his lips around his shaft, flexes his tongue, and tries his best to suck. The effect it has is devastating. Phantom groans out loud and beautiful, pulls Mountain down hard on his cock and buries it deep just like he knows he likes. He throbs against his tongue, hot and heavy, and Mountain thinks he’s going to bust. He hopes he does, his throat is starting to get sore–it’s not every day another ghoul barges into your room and forces their cock all the way down your throat. He tries to swallow around him but it’s a futile attempt. His throat spasms, he chokes a little, and Phantom pulls out with teeth clenched tight.

“Get on the bed. Strip. I’m gonna make you regret ever underestimating me.”

His tshirt hits the floor before his knees unglue themselves from wooden boards.

#phantom ghoul #mountain ghoul #ghost smut #ghost #ghost bc

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meiissblog · 1 year

Text

Another life: part 1 🤍 Gojo x Fem reader (isekai fic)

THIS STORY IDEA WAS TAKEN FROM:

@stsg-losers thank you for the amazing idea! 😊💕

⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS for Jujutsu kaisen ⚠️

(If you’re not caught up with the JJK manga avoid this story at all costs).

Please read all the parts of this story first you can find all the chapters Here.

• REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

⚠️WARNINGS ⚠️

Angst (some arguing) and a whole lot of fluff hey at least it’s happier than the manga currently). 🥲

Scenario:

After losing to Sukuna and after seeing all his friends in the “afterlife”. Gojo decides to go north and be “reincarnated” into a new world. little did he know this new life would be everything he’s ever wanted.

——————————————————————

Gojo POV:

I wake up my head pounding I sit up in a complete daze. Wait-… where the hell am I and why is my sight so different? I look around it looks like a normal bedroom did I survive my fight with Sukuna? Was me dying just a dream? I get up and go over to the mirror on the other side of the room. I’m surprised to see myself looking back but with a giant bandaid wrapped around my head. It’s me but my six eyes ability it’s gone. No not just that all My powers there gone.

“Daddy! You’re awake!”. My eyes widen when a little girl who looks exactly like me, runs up to me wrapping her arms around my lower leg. “Mommy wants you out in the kitchen she made breakfast and you need your medicine”. “O-okay? Lead the way, kid”. The little girl takes my arm and brings me out into the massive home. As we enter the kitchen my eyes widen once again when I see an unbelievably beautiful woman behind the counter. “Oh Toru, You’re awake! Here sweetie your head is still injured sit down”. She walks over pulling a chair out for me at the expensive-looking dining table. I sit down across from a teenage girl who has brown hair wait isn’t that Megumi’s sister? is this some kind of trick? The little girl from earlier sits beside me at the table climbing up onto the chair. she turns back to her mother. “Mommy can I get my art stuff please”. “Sure baby, hold on”. “Mom, I can get it for you”. “no it’s fine Tsumiki I got it, oh and breakfast is done”. I watch as the pretty woman turns off the stove holding a plate full of food. I also watch as she goes into a kitchen door pulling out a notebook and some markers.

She walks back over to the table she puts the delicious-looking breakfast in front of Tsumiki. While also handing the notebook and the markers to the little girl. “Miyoko, are your brothers awake?”. “I don’t know if Kenshi or Megumi are awake Mommy I’m sorry. I think I saw Megumi’s light on this morning”. the woman sighs hold on I’ll go get your brothers.

Megumi is here?! I suddenly feel something soft touch my bare foot I jump up immediately. Just to see it’s a cat.

Miyoko and Tsumiki laugh at me. “Daddy, it’s just kyo”. My head starts to pound again probably from the sudden movement this dream is so strange. Tsumiki must take notice. “Dad, are you okay?”. “Y-yeah I think so?”.

I sit back down when the beautiful woman, Megumi who is not possessed by sukuna, and another teenage boy who also looks exactly like me enter the room.

“alright, Kenshi, Megumi remember after school you have to help take care of the yard the gardeners are off on vacation this week. You guys will get your extra allowance after me and your father talk about prices”.

I watch as the pretty woman grabs two more plates of food from the counter, and the two boys also sit at the table. “Ah! Mom me and Megumi were wondering if we could get about 300$ and get paid together for the work”. “Oh, and why is that”. “Well, Yuji and the other guys wanted to go to a concert together in about a month, and the tickets are kinda expensive”. The pretty woman walks over putting the food in front of the two of them. “A concert? I don’t know concerts are pretty dangerous what do you think toru?”. “Umm.. uh sure, whatever”. Kenshi cheers. “YES!~ you’re the best dad!”. the pretty woman sighs. “Gojo do you want a full breakfast? Or Do you not feel like eating? Like yesterday”. “No, I’m pretty hungry I guess”. We all eat together I watch as everyone chats casually everything seems so strangely relaxed I’m not used to it.

———————————————————————

We all go out into the living room area I sit on the couch as I Watch as all the children get ready to leave. “Be careful with your little sister all of you watch her, and Miyoko you make sure to hold onto Megumi’s hand until you get on the bus got it?”. “Yes, mommy”. “Don’t worry I’ll come and get you from kindergarten later”. She kisses the little girl's forehead. “Bye everyone”. A loud cry of bye mom’s echo throughout the living room as they all leave out the door. The pretty woman sighs loudly slamming herself onto the couch next to me laying her head against my shoulder yawning. “Do you feel up to watching TV together or do you want to go rest more? I have your pain medicine ready-“.

I grab the woman’s shoulders looking her directly in the eyes. “Who the hell are you and what is this place”. “W-what? Gojo?”. “This is an illusion isn’t it you’re sukuna”. The woman starts to tremble. “N-no I don’t know what you’re talking about you’re scaring me”. “Good acting now get me out of this illusion!”. I start to shake the woman and she frantically gets out of my grip she starts crying a bit. “H-hold on! Let me call Shoko maybe she can help just calm down please”. I get up grabbing the woman again by her arms. “You’re not going anywhere-”. Just then I hear the front door open. “Hey, Satoru! -“. My eyes widen as I see “geto” aka kenjaku. “Hey, Satoru what the hell are you doing? To y/n”. He walks over towards us. “Heh you have some nerve showing up in front of me this illusion it’s your doing isn’t it”. I let the woman go grabbing Kenjaku by the shirt”. “Satoru, calm down”. “I’m calling Shoko! Be careful geto p-please Don’t hurt each other ”. The woman supposedly named y/n leaves frantically.

“Satoru let’s talk this out now just explain to me what you think is going on”. I explain to him everything to the best of my ability.

“Satoru, this is an alternate universe”. “What?!”. “this is a

universe that is free from cursed energy after I died in our original universe, I was brought here as well Don’t you remember? you chose to go north. This is our new reality after being reborn”. “So you’re aware that we were jujutsu sorcerers?”. “Yeah but who cares? this universe is everything I’ve ever wanted and now we can all be happy”. “Wait what about the others Alive in the other universe?”. “They’ll probably be brought here as well someday when they die who knows”. “Is anyone else aware of the other universe? Besides us?”. “Yeah, the other sorcerers and for some reason only the ones who died in the other world”. “Who is y/n? Why am I married to her? And why do we have children”. Geto sighs “Satoru to hell if I know, that woman is way too good for you why the hell she’d agree to marry you in any universe is beyond me”.

Y/n comes back into the living room.

“Shoko is on her way…”.

———————————————————————

Shoko examines me. “It seems you might be suffering from some mild memory loss I’m guessing you might have had a small stroke thanks to your head injury and or trauma from the car accident”. “Is he going to be okay”. “Yeah y/n but his memories might be gone for good, unfortunately”. “Oh no..”. Y/n starts crying a bit Geto holds her shoulder. I started to feel very guilty about how I treated y/n.

———————————————————————

- a few hours later -

I wake up to shuffling I sit up in the bed when I see y/n packing clothes. “Y/n what are you doing?”. “Oh sorry, I woke you, I’m just moving into the guest room for the time being I know it would probably be uncomfortable to share a room with somebody you don’t know”. I get up from the bed going over to y/n. “Don’t worry about it it’s okay if you want to share with me I don’t mind”. “B-but..”. “Oh, and I’m sorry for now I treated you earlier it was overly aggressive of me”. Y/n smiles at me. “It’s okay”. “If you’d like we could go out and watch some movies”. “You want to rewatch Encanto!”. “Let’s do it”. We go out to the living room and watch movies for a bit. “Oh, it’s time to go pick up Miyoko”. “Can I come with you?”. “Oh, sure if you feel up to it”. I follow behind y/n shocked to see the true size of our home as we pile into our huge expensive-looking car. We drive off the massive property going out of a security gate. Even though I’m well off in the other universe this is pretty excessive how can we afford all of this?.

“Y/n, what exactly do I do for work?”. “Oh, you own a restaurant chain with Geto”. “How many restaurants do we have”. “Three for now but a new 4th one is looking promising”. “Is that all I do”. “Oh, you must not remember my dad was the CEO of a major medical brand in the United States. After he passed away all his assets and money were passed onto me last year. we had a simpler life before this but after Inherited all the money and the company people started

Threatening us so we had to move to a more secure location to protect the kids and us”. “how much is your net worth y/n”. “About eight hundred million not counting the company, with the company it is going into the billions”. well Umm.. what about Megumi and his sister when did they become our children?”.

“Oh… you don’t remember that either.. well, toji fushiguro is my far-off relative he never really cared about his children. he just kinda ran off one day. Before I met you, Megumi and his sister were originally given to my father”. y/n looks off sadly. “My father wasn’t the nicest man much like most of my family and he didn’t want to deal with the two of them. So I volunteered to take them in and they’ve been with us since. I don’t care what anyone else says to me they’re my children”. “What about their mothers?”. “I don’t know”. We pull up to what I assume to be the elementary school.

I watch as y/n brings out Miyoko I smile a bit as she skips along with her mother. y/n opens the car door. “Daddy! Hi”. “Hey, kid”. I Watch as y/n helps miyoko into her car seat. “Mr. Kento let me make you something since you still aren’t feeling too good”. I let out a slight laugh no way Nanami is her teacher?! I take the picture from Miyoko unrolling it. “Oh, it’s a sparkly fish”. “Oh, I thought you’d like the sparkles”. “No I don’t like them I love them thank you miyoko it’s beautiful”. I reach back patting her head when y/n gets in the front seat. “Alright everyone let’s get home!”.

———————————————————————

AN:

I hope this is what all of you wanted.

Read part 2 HERE

MASTERLIST

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bestedoesmeow · 1 year

Text

⋆Barmen Charles leclerc x Younger reader⋆

inspired by the summer I had few years ago. Still thankful for the experience, and joy you brought to my life even though we are not really in good terms right now :)

'' One summer your whole system of understanding love changes due to some monegasque barmen that you meet on a holiday that you thought to be just like others.''⋆

PART 1 ( click on the title to listen to the song while reading the story!!)

'' I am just gonna go and get a bottle of water from the bar. Why am I making such a big deal out of it?" You are talking to yourself, while your hands are shaking with the excitement you feel and your blood is rushing crazily through your cheeks. It's hot—unbelievably, amazingly, and almost unbearably hot for someone to even try to walk. But there you are, walking in a rush in your swimsuit and sunglasses, with flushed red cheeks and shaky hands because of the image you have of him in your mind. You are afraid that you are going to forget how to talk when you see him—his pretty green eyes, showy smile showing off his dimples, the almost invisible freckles he has on his nose due to the humidity and salt. Is he 24? Maybe 20? You don't know anything, probably you don't even care though—all you care about is how he makes you feel whenever you see him standing at that bar, preparing drinks for people and sending that shy yet confident smile at the same time whenever someone says "thank you" or "you look handsome." Old ladies, their daughters, and even some gentlemen—everyone there is in awe of how handsome and charming he is. It would be a pity if you weren't. You don't know if you feel jealous that he has too many options or feel happy that you are not alone, with everyone adoring him. While wishfully thinking, you realize you are almost standing in front of the bar, with the sounds of the harsh sea in your ears and some people sitting on the chairs behind you after getting out of the sea to grab something to eat. Lunch? Probably.

"What can I get you?" His French accent echoes in your ears, leaving you even weaker and more vulnerable to any attack. He smiles at you—those dimples, those damn dimples. Those smiling eyes and his welcoming gesture—almost too welcoming that you start to think about telling him everything. Right there, just right there.

"Can I get a bottle of water? It's getting even hotter and I just can't stan—" You stop, wondering why you just couldn't get the water and go. Did you really have to?

"Oh, it's unbelievably hot today," he says. "I can't tell you how many t-shirts I've changed into. It's freaking hot," he adds. You feel the sweat drops on your back flow down by the time he stops speaking. Thanks, thanks for not leaving me there cringing hard at myself. Thanks for talking back about the fucking weather and making it seem like a big issue.

"Why don't you take a seat? I'll make you a Martini. Pink? That'll cool you off for sure."

You try to comprehend the moment, his voice, his offer. You look around to see if he has anyone other than you to talk to, but it seems like you are alone.

"You aren't underage, are you?" he says this time. It is the fourth time he has spoken, but there is something in your throat that controls you, and you just can't come up with words. You take a seat, and your bikini drips some water.

"I am wet, like, so much that I probably shouldn't sit, so I'll only get the water, thank y—"

He cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence, as if he is just as excited to talk with you. At least you wish he is.

"Oh, come on, do you think people who come here to drink are all suited up? Don't worry, I'll take care of it after. Martini?" His French accent is even more visible now, and he is raising an eyebrow at you. Is he being flirty or just being nice? Or is he always like this?

"Yeah, okay," you say, trying not to sound so unsure, excited, or like a teenager who has a crush on an older guy who seems like a Greek god or a prince?

He nods and looks into your eyes before acting to prepare your drink, while you pick at the sides of your nails.

"What is your name?" he asks suddenly, and you are not expecting it. It's too much for you to handle, and your heart is almost about to stop with all the affection from the guy. You are determined not to show it, though.

"Oh, it's Y/N."

"That's a nice name. Mine is Charles, nothing special, you know," he says while pouring your drink with almost shaky hands. Is he okay? Or too shy? Or are they forcing him to make connections with people?

"I love your name. I mean, I love the name 'Charles,' sounds magical, maybe?" His lips are curled into a wide smile, while little sweat drops are determined to fall from his forehead.

"You think so?"

"Yes, it's a great name. You should realize it too," you say this time before taking a sip from the Martini he just prepared for you—with his own, freaking beautiful hands.

"How old are you, huh?" he says. He leans his body on the counter, and his gaze is focused on yours. His green eyes wander around your face while you try not to turn your head around because the connection is too much more than you can handle.

"Nineteen."

"That's a nice age. I am 24, and I feel like I am already too old to do lots of things," he says. Finally, he cuts the eye contact to clean some glasses left behind by the people who just thanked him for the delicious drinks.

"Well, that's wrong. You look much younger, though, if it helps," you say. Did you really say that? You can't believe you can just sit there and talk to him—the guy you've been drooling over for almost three days maybe? Is this what magic feels like? Or am I in a dream?

"Thanks, amour. That's so nice of you to say. How long are you planning to stay here? In France?"

"We are leaving this weekend." And I am also leaving you here, with all of my beautiful feelings and all of my dreams.

"That's bad. Have I served your family before? How long have you been staying here?"

"About a week, maybe? Yes, and you have. They like you, to be honest. Your vibe is all over the place."

SHUT UP. TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM, HUH? STOP IT. HE'LL THINK YOU'RE DESPERATE.

"That's so nice to hear such a thing from someone like you. How come you never came to the bar?"

"I did, but it's always too crowded, you know? It's hard to find a place to sit."

"I know, I know," he says, and he turns his head to take another hotel customer's drink order. You take another sip from the Martini before wrapping your towel around your shoulders and pretending to get up from the chair.

"Thanks for the drink, Charles," you say, hoping he can hear you. You wouldn't take it personally if he couldn't, though.

"Nice meeting you, Y/N," he says, leaving the shaker there to say goodbye to you. He left his job to say goodbye to you? What is going on here? Can someone punch or pinch you?

He comes closer to you before handing you a napkin with some numbers written on it.

"Call me before you leave, so we can spend some time together. We can hit the downtown or go anywhere you'd like to see, huh?"

"Yes, of course."

He leaves you there with bouncy heart, sweaty palms, shaky legs, and body. His cologne follows you to your room, along with the dream of him.

#f1 fandom #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #f1 fiction #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc imagine #f1 au #f1 instagram au

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idontknowreallywhy · 3 months

Text

Father’s Day… The Aftermath?

This little Father’s Day snippet was satisfyingly complete as it was and was never meant to have a tbc, but if anyone is interested in a ‘how Scott reacted’ introspective then err, read on? Oh yeah and there is some EOS and The Tinies too :)

💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️

“Gordon Tracy and Alan Tracy.”

The brothers skidded to a halt as the disembodied voice floated out of nowhere… well, probably the stairwell speaker but, in eeriness terms, as good as nowhere.

Gordon decided to go for charm

“Hey EOS, my favourite niece!”

“I am your only niece, Gordon Tracy.”

“Heh, that makes you his least favourite too doesn’t it?”

“Shut up Alan, I’m bonding here.”

“I believe the appropriate phrase is ‘Good luck with that.’”

Hearing John’s deadpan style in that childish voice was never not going to be creepy. Also the knowledge she could open Four’s airlock while he was 3 kilometres under… brrrrr.

“Can we help you, EOS?”

“What did you do to Scott?”

They exchanged a glance. She sounded… annoyed? Worried? The AI didn’t always select the right tone for the emotion she had decided to project and thus it wasn’t always safe to rely on it, but EOS had a definite thing about their eldest brother’s welfare. Recently, non-family members who upset him tended to have a subsequent run of poor social and financial luck… she admitted nothing and John couldn’t prove it but Gordon had heard Virgil and John fretting about it.

“Nothing… bad?” Alan ventured.

“Why?” Gordon took the direct approach.

“He hasn’t moved in seven point eight two minutes. Scott always moves. Was your missive an especially lengthy one?”

Alan’s fingers dug painfully into Gordon’s arm and he yelped and shoved him into the wall.

“Eight minutes”

“Gords, did we screw up?”

“No! It was a nice thing! We said a nice thing!”

“Yeah but… maybe we should have hung around…”

“This is how it goes! We write the mushy thing in the card, nobody says anything out loud that he can argue with and he is happy. Why mess with a system that works?” Gordon could hear an old teenage defensiveness creeping into his own voice and his throat suddenly felt dry as memories of certain times he had not been… pleasant… to his eldest brother floated to the surface.

“Eight point five minutes. Perhaps I should contact John.”

“No! Don’t… John can’t know… we’ll go. We’ll fix it.” Gordon croaked. “C’mon Al.”

💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️

Still true.

Scott Tracy was pretty good with words.

He could instinctively summon up the ones that would land perfectly on the right side of the line between trite, unbelievable nonsense and courage-inspiring reassurance. He could charm the press, silence the Board, encourage a nervous member of staff. Given time, he could write a pretty cracking keynote address. If he wasn’t given time, he could give a decent (if slightly less structured) speech on a variety of topics.

Yes, Scott Tracy could make words work for him. With strangers, anyway.

With family it was different.

Especially Gordon and Alan. Ever since he had to be better than just a brother there was always too much blocking his ability to be coherent. Too much exasperation to persuade or correct. Too much worry to convincingly advise. Too much overwhelming need to wrap them up in his arms and never let anything near… to let them stretch their wings without a fight.

About a year in, when it became clear this was it - that he was all they had and it was down to him to make sure that being orphans didn’t leave them too messed up - he’d started binging books on successfully raising teenagers. It didn’t help that most recommended completely different approaches and that Gordon had seen his attempts at ‘calm parenting’ coming a mile off and laughed in his face.

He’d messed up and lost his cool almost every day. The three of them had had more blazing rows than he could bear to remember. YOU’RE NOT MY DAD!!! And they were right. And there were plenty of occasions where the moral high ground had not been his, where he felt like he was the younger brother, not even sure if he was right but begging to be heard. Outnumbered and desperate for one of them to be on his side for once. Begging for someone to understand why this was so damn hard. Virgil and John had helped, of course they had. But they were still big brothers, mediating between the grieving teenagers and The Legal Guardian.

Scott had spent too many hours slumped in the corridor outside one of their rooms, waiting for them to be ready to come out and receive his apology, to ever believe he could merit a “bestest dad”.

A little voice whispered that his dad had yelled a lot too. But Scott had been hard work, he knew that. And even if Jeff Tracy would have yelled at Gordon and Alan for the same things he was at least their Father. It would have been different.

He’d been a stand-in, a substitute.

Better than nothing, sure! And they’d turned out ok - in what must have been a mixture of luck and their good genes, he’d managed not to ruin them completely.

He realised he hadn’t been blinking enough and the two words were burning into his retinas as his eyeballs watered.

How could… how could they say this?

Surely now he was back, now they had a real father again, this was the time they’d realise how much better it could have been if he’d been here instead? Scott had expected that kind of fall out - the regrets, the if-onlys. This… didn’t make sense.

Maybe it was the shock of having the man but not quite the Dad back yet. Maybe after all that build up the fact they hadn’t rescued the exact same person they remembered was disappointing. Maybe Scott should have been better at managing their expectations… or at managing his own.

Maybe when he was well. Which he would be. It was just a matter of time then everything would become as it was supposed to be.

And he’d better get rid of this, because if Dad saw it, it would break his heart. Because if today had taught Scott anything it was that being a father had meant a lot more to Jeff Tracy than his eldest son had ever realised.

In a minute he’d burn it.

In a minute.

He would just look at it for one more minute.

💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️💛💙❤️

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #Father’s Day #dad!scott #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #Father’s Day fic

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 years

Text

Same Old Truck

Jake Seresin x fem!reader 7k words (yeah i know)

summary: It’s been fifteen years since you last saw Jake Seresin. Back then, you were head over heels in love with him. Now you aren’t much better off. The only question: If it ended back then, how can you be sure it’ll last now?

a/n: still no clue about the us military. i googled it all and as we know google is inaccurate as shit so dont mind that also that’s one of my favourite jake gifs so.... yeah.

top gun masterlist

Usually on a Friday night, you would be sitting at home with a nice cup of tea, watching TV. Sometimes, you would be out with friends, drinking and dancing. Today, you were back at your old high school’s gym in a summer dress, champagne in one hand and phone in the purse at your side, chatting to people you hadn’t seen since graduation.

Everyone had come back today. All of the guys you had spent years next to in class, laughing with over lunch in the cafeteria, gossiping with, studying with, crying with. There were so many memories here, good ones as well as bad ones, and you’d dabbed at your cheeks more times already than you wanted to admit. But who could blame you? So many stories were being told again, half of which you’d forgotten over the years, and new ones as well - these of careers and weddings and kids. It was unbelievable how much and how fast everybody had grown up.

Yet as happy as you were to be here, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread too, couldn’t help the gnawing in your stomach, the nerves bubbling up, the voices in your head that had been arguing for days now - Will he come? He’s far away after all. Do you even want him to come?

And after an hour of being here, an hour of not having seen him once, you were beginning to think that all that hope, all that dread, all that nervous anticipation had been for nothing in the end - he hadn’t come. You scolded yourself for the bitter taste that thought left in your mouth. You tried to wash it down with champagne. When that didn’t work, you excused yourself from the group you’d been catching up with to find something stronger.

And, of course, just as you had lost hope, just as you decided fuck him, let’s get drunk, just as you turned around to walk to the bar, there he was, in all his glory, standing in the doorway with a killer grin, shirt with the top buttons undone, hands stuffed lazily in the pockets of his jeans, and as you felt yourself stiffen at nothing but the sight of him, you realised that even fifteen years later you were no better off than you had been in senior year in high school.

Well, shit.

A chorus of cheers went through the crowd when he stepped in, like he was some superstar, some hero. Of course. Obviously you weren’t the only one still stuck on high school impressions.

Jake Seresin made it all of two steps into the gym before he was surrounded, shaking hands and greeting people and offering everyone a charming smile. You stood, dumbfounded, frozen in your spot - how you’d hoped he’d come. How you’d begged he wouldn’t. How you’d prayed he’d show up. How you’d pleaded he’d stay far, far away.

His eyes met yours and you could feel your knees going weak at once. Goddamn, you had to get yourself together. You were a grown ass woman, an adult with her own successful career, her own apartment, her own cat, her own fucking life, not a teenage girl anymore wooed simply by the attention of the popular guy.

At least that was what you told yourself as you tore your eyes away and forced yourself to turn around and walk up to the bar to pour a whiskey, ignoring your shaking hands as best as you could. One of the advantages of being an adult, of course, was this: There was alcohol at the prom now. No more forbidden bottles of wine and beer stolen from parents’ cabinets to sip after midnight, when the gym had closed and the teachers were going home and you were perched on the back of Jake’s truck with the rest of your friends in your dresses and suits.

“He still looks at you like that.”

You almost jumped out of your own skin at your old friend’s voice. You’d lost contact years ago - sad, really, because you’d always loved her. You remembered her in your bedroom, rummaging through your closet like it was hers, flitting about with the makeup she’d brought from home to help you get ready for your first date. You could remember her sleeping over any chance she got, you could remember staying at her’s every Saturday, you could remember dinner with her parents and torturing her little brother and staring in awe when she had got her first laptop. You’d been through thick and thin with her.

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that”, you said, pushing the well of emotions down as far as you could. You were here to enjoy a night of catching up, not cry every time someone talked to you. She raised an eyebrow.

“You still look at him like that too.”

“Look at who like what?”, you asked, your fingers skimming the rim of your glass. You weren’t dumb - she was talking about him, of course, about Jake, about the way you’d frozen in place when you’d seen him. You had been hoping it hadn’t been as obvious, but it seemed it had been (despite your prayers).

“You should go talk to him”, she said, brushing over your question completely. You bit your lip and looked down.

“It’s been fifteen years”, you said softly. “I don’t know what I’d even say.”

“It’s been fifteen years for everyone”, she countered. “And let me just remind you that reading people’s body language is part of my job. You very obviously want to talk to him.”

Right - you’d forgotten she’d studied psychology.

“I...” You took a deep breath and glanced up at her. “I’m not saying I don’t want to talk to him. I’m just saying... I don’t know what I’d tell him. And I don’t know if he even wants to talk to me.”

She snorted at that.

“Are you kidding me? He’s been eyeing you from over there since he got here, he definitely wants to talk to you. He probably would’ve already if he wasn’t being cornered by literally half the people here at once.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course he’s still just as popular.”

You couldn’t help but grin. You knew very well that she loved him - at least that she had back then - and that she was feigning the annoyance just like she always had. They’d got in so much trouble together, pranked each other to the point where they’d both ended up in the ER, and you were surprised that they’d lost contact, though you knew yourself just how easily that happened. Time really did sneak up on you in life. You’d be surrounded by friends one day and when you looked back the day after that, years would have passed and they would all be off in some faraway corners of the world without you.

Your eyes started filling with tears for the millionth time today. You tried to blink them away, but she noticed before you could.

“Oh god”, she said, putting a hand to your arm, “Don’t cry or I’ll cry too.”

“Sorry”, you laughed, in an attempt to get your mood back up. “It’s just- Sometimes I just wish we could go back. I didn’t even realise how much I missed you all. Promise me we’ll stay in touch after this, please? I don’t want to lose you again.”

You could see the tears in her eyes when she sniffled and hugged you, throwing her arms around you with a fevor that nearly knocked you back.

“Promise! And you promise to come to my wedding.”

You laughed as you held her close. “Definitely.”

When she pulled away again, you had to dab at your eyes, but she wasn’t looking at you - she was looking at something behind you, the corners of her lips tugging upwards, and the twinkle in her expression reminded you of the way she’d always looked at Jake the second before tackling him.

Jake, you thought, and immediately your body reacted (to the mere thought of him, no less), a cold shiver running down your spine, your jaw clenching, your knees going weak. She winked at you. You had half a mind not to turn around.

“Loverboy heading your way”, she muttered. She was already backing away when you came to your senses.

“Don’t you want to, you know, catch up too?”

Maybe it would be less weird if she stayed. Maybe you’d be less affected. Maybe... Or maybe not. But she wasn’t about to let you figure that out.

“I’ve got his number saved”, she shrugged. “You just relax and enjoy it.”

Relax and enjoy it, sure, sure, because that was so easy. Because you hadn’t spent the last fifteen years drinking up every tidbit of information about him that had somehow crossed your path. Which hadn’t been much anyway. He’d become a naval aviator, just like he’d always wanted. He’d been travelling all over the US. He’d come for the holidays whenever he’d been able to. That was that. So basically, you knew nothing. Nothing at all.

You didn’t know if he was still the same Jake you’d dated back then. You had no clue if perhaps he was an entirely different person now.

But you would have to find out. You would have to jump in at the deep end, because you were standing all alone at the bar with Jake coming up behind you. Your fingers swiped over your glass. You didn’t want to turn around. Yet everything inside of you was screaming at you to do it, just to look at him, just to know if this was the same guy that you’d been head-over-heels in love with in high school.

He tapped your shoulder. You could smell his aftershave. Your hand wrapped around your glass as you took one last, deep breath and turned to him.

He’d grown. He was taller than you by a head now. His shoulders were broader. His hair was shorter. His hands were bigger, gripping the neck of a bottle of beer. His fingers were longer. You were certain that he was hiding a set of well-defined abs beneath his shirt.

But his face was still shaven - you remembered him doing it with your pink razor in your bathroom one Monday morning before school, when he hadn’t had the time the day before - and his eyes were still the same shade of greenish grey that you’d never quite managed to figure out.

You had to smile involuntarily.

“If it isn’t the prom king in all his glory”, you grinned, hiding your nerves under an all too familiar facade of teasing and flirting. “Just had to make a late, dramatic entrance, did you?”

He grinned as well, resting his elbow on the bar top, his aftershave fully clogging up your senses.

“Well, if it ain’t the prom queen”, he drawled. He paused to look at you. Really look at you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, and usually you’d think you would feel embarrassed or shy, but Jake had looked at you so many times before that all you felt was a sense of familiarity. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been eighteen years old. But you did nevertheless.

“You look stunning”, he said after a moment. You couldn’t help the heat spreading through your body like molten gold.

“You don’t look too bad yourself”, you smiled - the understatement of the century.

Jake Seresin had always looked just a bit too handsome for his own good. It had got him in and out of trouble often enough. But, well, back then he’d been a teenager, hardly an adult. Now he was grown up. He was wider and broader and older and if anything, he’d become even more handsome, even more attractive over the years: he’d got tan and obviously he’d been working out. His job seemed to be doing good for him.

You couldn’t believe that after all these years, you were standing in front of him again. Looking at a man living his dream, not a boy just dreaming it anymore. He’d been extraordinary back then - now he was nothing short of impressive.

You didn’t know how long you’d been staring at each other. It could’ve been anything from a few seconds to a few minutes. You didn’t mind. You didn’t think you’d have minded a few hours either. Compared to fifteen years, that was nothing.

“I got off the plane two hours ago”, he explained eventually. “Hence the dramatic entrance.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“You got here today?”, you asked.

“Two hours ago”, he repeated with a grin.

“Shit”, you laughed. “What’d you do, miss the first three flights?”

“Had to work ‘till five.”

“Five?” You slipped your phone out of your pocket to take a look at the time. “It’s ten. How’d you get here in five hours?”

His grin widened.

“Kind of my job to be good with planes.”

So he was still as cheeky as he’d been back then. And his accent had hardly changed - you’d dreaded hearing him with something like a Brooklyn one. God knows where he’d spent his time.

But no. He was still your Jake. Your Jake from back then. Jake who’d taken you on an hour-long drive in his car just to go stargazing on a random Thursday night, Jake who’d climbed in through your window when there’d been no reason to, Jake who’d left you his cowboy hat even though it was his most prized possession. Jake.

“Is it your job to get off the plane looking flawless too?”, you asked, heartbeat quickening. You’d never had inhibitions when it came to complimenting him. Sometimes you’d thought you shouldn’t fuel his ego further - though in the end you’d always decided he deserved it. Your friends had been so annoyed with you, but you’d never minded. You’d never minded his arrogant grins or that over-confident twinkle in his eyes. Maybe because you knew that despite it all, he was a big sweetheart, or maybe because it was all just so very justified. Because he was that talented, because he was that charming, because he was that attractive. So why, good lord, why should he not have known it?

“You know I always look flawless”, he chuckled.

“Ah, yes”, you said. “Of course. Always have, always will.”

He paused for a moment. Then he said, “Much like you.”

Your grin widened. He’d never seemed to have a problem complimenting you, either. God - he was here, he was real. After fifteen long years, you were finally seeing him again. And apart from a few differences, it was like he’d never left.

“I missed you”, you whispered with a smile still on your lips. You didn’t leave him time to respond, too afraid that his answer might not be one you wanted to hear, that he might not have thought about you at all. Which you really couldn’t have held against him - it’d been so long you wouldn’t even have been surprised. “Now tell me what you’ve been up to. I want to know everything. If you did become the best pilot the navy’s ever seen, if you did visit every state. If your dream turned out just as good as you wanted it to.”

He did tell you. He told you about the academy, about the planes, about the places he’d been stationed at. (”That’s classified”, he chuckled when you asked him why he was stationed in San Diego now. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”) He told you about the people he worked with, about what a callsign was, about being one of the only ones on active duty who’d shot down enemy planes. But more importantly than that, he told you about what it felt like to fly. About the freedom of being up in the air, about being responsible for only him and his own plane, about power and liberty and about feeling like he belonged.

You had to bite your lip to keep from getting too emotional again. He’d lost none of the charm of the young boy dreaming about all this, about planes, about flying, about how one day he’d be up there himself. He’d promised you - lying on the roof of his car, wrapped up in his arms, staring at the darkening sky and pointing out contrails - He’d promised you that one day he’d do it. You had made him swear he wouldn’t stop at anything to get there.

“You seem happy”, you said when he’d finished, a genuine smile on your lips. He did seem happy. And you were happy for him.

“I am”, he agreed. He looked at you again, looked you in the eyes with an easy grin, voice turning all serious. “Just sometimes think I could be happier.”

You felt the intensity of his eyes stronger, then. Heat rushed to your cheeks. You grabbed your glass more tightly.

“Happier how?”, you asked, a bit breathless, because you thought you knew the answer. But you wanted to hear him say it. Hear him admit that he’d not forgotten about you. That he’d remembered the little girl from school throughout the years. That maybe after the great love story of your lives had turned into just another high school romance, you hadn’t been the only one to stop and ask yourself if maybe it really had been the love of your life, if maybe you had blown your chance of ever finding love like that again.

You’d cursed him so often. After dates, after breakups, after watching rom-coms on your couch with your cat curled up in your lap and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream perched on your leg. Cursed him for ruining men for you so early on, for setting your standards too high, for going away back then, for never really coming back.

Jake reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. He put it in front of you. You frowned.

“Take off the case”, he urged. Your curiosity won, so you let go off your glass to peel off his phone case - plain black, but you hadn’t expected anything else. A piece of paper came free. You looked up at him with raised eyebrows. When he nodded, you glanced back, dropping the case onto the bar top to unfold the paper. It was barely bigger than your hand and even though it looked torn at the edges, it must have been folded carefully after every time it had been looked at.

You recognised your own scrawly handwriting the very moment you glanced at it, gasping up at Jake, who only grinned.

This is your guardian angel, you’d written, in the middle of maths class one fateful day close to graduation, here to tell you to pay attention. You won’t be a very good pilot at all if you can’t concentrate on what you’re doing because you’re staring at me.

So you’ll be up in the air with me?, he’d scrawled below that.

Always, you’d scribbled. Even if you can’t see me.

You could remember that day well, mainly because that morning he’d been accepted into USNPS, the first step on his way to chasing his dream. He’d pulled up to your house and you’d already been closing the door, but unlike usual he hadn’t stayed in his car, instead he’d come sprinting at you with the biggest grin and you’d already known what had happened just by looking at him, so you’d run at him at full speed, abandoning your schoolbag and jumping up into his arms, drawing him in and kissing the grin right off of his face.

“You kept that?”, you asked with a laugh.

“Of course”, he said. “I took it up with me the first time and came back in one piece. Haven’t flown a single time without it.”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip. If you weren’t careful, you’d fall back into your old habit and keep at it until you drew blood, but...

“So a piece of me has been up in the air with you every time”, you realised.

“I couldn’t leave behind my guardian angel now, could I?”

You felt a hot tear running down your cheek that you did your best to wipe away without letting him see. He’d not only kept one of your notes all these years (and you’d written each other a ton of those), he’d used it as a lucky charm - Jake, who’d never been religious, much less superstitious. He’d kept it, he’d kept it close to him for fifteen years, he’d taken it up in the air with him every single time. He’d made you a part of his dream even after you’d let him go.

“I actually did write you a letter, you know”, you admitted, quietly, almost whispering. “I did even before they’d accepted you. I wanted to give it to you the day I had to kiss you goodbye at the airport. It said... it said that I had always known you’d do it and that I was sure you’d become the best of them all. That I was always right anyway so you could trust me. That I would always be there for you, no matter how far away you went. And that I’d... that I’d be there even when you were up in the air. I folded it so it’d fit in a pocket. So that you could carry it like a lucky charm even though I knew you didn’t believe in them.”

He was smiling when you found the strength to look at him again.

“Why didn’t you give it to me?”, he asked and for just a moment you thought you heard a kind of sadness in his tone. You shrugged.

“We’d broken up. I didn’t want to make it harder for either of us.”

He paused. You didn’t look away this time. The paper still between your fingers, a chorus of ‘He never forgot’ in your mind.

“But you still came to say goodbye at the airport.”

You took a deep breath. Yes - you had driven to the airport that day, had sprinted to the gate you’d known he was supposed to be at and tackled him just before he could go through security. That was the last time you’d seen him - waving at you as you sobbed, a smile on his lips that you knew he was only putting on to seem strong for you, before he disappeared into the gate and you realised just who you’d lost.

“I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye”, you admitted. “I had to see you one last time.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“And that didn’t make it harder?”

“Only a bit”, you chuckled, pretending there weren’t tears dropping off your chin. “But it would’ve been worse if I’d had to live with the knowledge that I never got to properly say goodbye. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I mean, we all knew that you’d be successful and that you wouldn’t come back. What’s a little town in the middle of Texas got to offer a multi-million-dollar plane-flying naval aviator such as yourself?”

You glanced from him back down to the paper in your hands, your own handwriting, and folded it carefully again. You couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, not while you were living through the memories of two beautiful years and one horrible one to get over them. Maybe all this was pathetic - you’d thought so a lot of times before. Maybe it was pathetic that you were clinging on to a boy from high school, to someone you hadn’t seen in fifteen years, to someone you knew - and had always known - you simply did not have a future with. But every time you met someone else, every time you considered the possibility of settling down, of marriage and growing old, you had to think back and compare and god, Jake Seresin really had ruined your love life so very early on. He’d ruined dating for you once and for all. Your miserable attempts at hookups and boyfriends had always ended the same: with you waving goodbye because none of it felt good enough to be called love. None of it came close enough to him.

Jake hooked his fingers under your chin and turned your face to his, his thumb brushing over your skin to wipe away your tears. You bit your lip, the weight of his eyes on yours enough to make your nerves run rampant.

“What about my dream girl waiting back home?”, he asked quietly.

You took a deep breath. Thoughts were racing through your mind at such a speed that you couldn’t grasp a single one - shreds of “dream girl” and “after all these years” and “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck”. A lot of that last one, really. With how close he was, those too-familiar eyes boring into yours and the feeling of his touch for what was the first time in a decade, you couldn’t even say you were surprised.

“Dream girl?”, you repeated breathlessly, your voice hoarse to the point of breaking. You had half a mind to stay where you were (not that you could move a muscle). He smiled.

“Dream girl.”

Your brain short-circuited.

This was better even than the wildest of scenarios you’d been imagining since you’d got the invite to the reunion - hell, this was better than what you’d been imagining over the past fifteen years. You’d pictured over and over what it would be like to see him again, to talk to him and to touch him again, and every time you had scolded yourself for doing so because it would never happen anyway. Now here you were. And Jake was more breath-taking, more overwhelming than ever, driving you to the edge of insanity with just his presence, a grown version of the boy you’d kept close to your heart all throughout your life, a man now who’d achieved everything he’d ever wanted, and he was telling you, you and no one else, after fifteen years, that you were his dream girl. That you were the only thing this whole town still had to offer, the only thing he was still missing.

You had to close your eyes and take a shaky breath.

“Jake”, you said quietly. “We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. You don’t even know who I am anymore.”

His thumb kept brushing over your skin even after the tears had dried.

“So let me get to know you again”, he muttered.

You smiled. It was like he was plucking the - in themselves very few - doubts from your mind with such care that you felt fuzzy inside. You opened your eyes again to look at him, only to catch him still staring at you, lips curled in something between a genuine smile and a cheeky grin.

“I went to college in California because I had to get away from home for a bit”, you started in a whisper. If he wanted to get to know you, he’d have to make do with the run down of your life for now. “Studied child care. Came back and got a job as a kindergarden teacher here. I got an apartment, I got a car, I got a cat. You know, just like I’d always said. It all worked out exactly like I’d planned.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. His fingers had travelled from your chin to cup your jaw softly, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“So you’re living your dream”, he said.

“I guess so.”

“Impressive.”

“Says you.”

There was a pause - Jake was just looking at you again, smiling, but you didn’t feel like complaining. You never had, you certainly never would. He could spend the rest of his life looking at you if he wanted to.

“Green still your favourite colour?”, he asked. You nodded. If it were anyone else, maybe you would’ve been surprised that they’d remembered but god, it was him, you would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t. He’d remembered every little detail about you back then, from the nail polish you had used to the sound of your father’s footsteps coming down the staircase.

“Your mum’s hot chocolate still the only you’ll drink?”

You nodded again. Your smile was quickly turning into a broad grin.

“Do you still turn the volume all the way up when our song plays?”

You swallowed. And nodded again. Your song - the one that had played in the background for your first kiss, for your last, for your first dance at prom, that time you’d baked in his kitchen, countless more when you’d been driving around in his truck. You had turned it up all the way whenever you’d heard it, no matter where or when. And Jake had pulled you close to him and started dancing with you, twirling you this way and that until you collapsed against his chest, smiling and laughing and kissing him. Even after he’d left, you had always turned up the volume, just now with no one to dance to it with.

“So I do still know you”, he muttered. You paused to examine him.

“And do I still know you?”, you asked, voice barely more than a breath. His thumb on your cheek stilled. Instead you felt him reach for your waist, tugging you closer, so close that you had to tilt your head back to keep looking at him. You felt your breath catch.

“You’ll have to find out”, he drawled.

“I’d like to”, you smiled. “I’d really like to. It’s just... How do we know it’s not gonna end like before again?”

He was so close that you could kiss him now. He felt like home, all familiar and comfortable and cozy, like love and adventure and sparks in your stomach. He was real, he was here, right now, right there, right in front of you, touching you, talking to you. This wasn’t some fantasy - and that was why you were scared.

It was all fun and games imagining it. Imagining that you’d meet him again and fall for him again and that you’d spend the rest of your life with him because he was the only man you’d ever truly love. But this, this was reality, this was the real world with all its obstacles and its difficulties. The problem was that you remembered like it was yesterday how you had broken up - why you had broken up.

Afterwards you’d been sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat of his truck, letting your tears fall and drop onto your shirt, onto his shirt that you’d been wearing, staring out of the window at the sky and the scenery change, blankly for the very first time. You had been hugging yourself, arms wrapped around your torso, and the radio hadn’t been playing - the radio had always played. But not then. He had been driving in silence and you hadn’t said anything either and when he had pulled up in the driveway in front of your house, you had got out without another word and paused just before closing the door.

“I love you, Jake”, you’d said. “I’ll never not love you.”

And he’d said “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know” and then you had shut the door and not looked back at him once as you had walked up to the house, fumbled for your keys and sunken down into a puddle of human limbs in the hallway, sobbing and screaming and struggling for breath.

“Because it was the wrong time back then”, he said now, holding you close to him.

“And this is the right time?”, you asked.

“We’ll have to find out”, he said.

There was a certainty to his voice, a determination in his eyes that told you he wasn’t saying it lightly. Jake Seresin was never saying anything lightly. So despite your fear, you had to smile at him.

“Kiss me”, you breathed.

You didn’t have to think about it, didn’t have to ponder the what’s and if’s or any of the consequences. If there was one thing you knew about him, it was that when he did something, anything, he would come out a winner, because that was just what he did: win. Any situation, any challenges, any difficulties thrown at him. It was why you had always been able to trust him completely, to follow him blindly. Because Jake Seresin would never do something he wasn’t a hundred percent sure of.

So when he pulled you close, when he leaned in, when your heart stopped beating for the moment that his eyes travelled to your lips, when you felt his breath on your skin, the last of your doubts faded away. And when his lips met yours, the last of your thoughts left right with them and your eyes fluttered shut. Because the kiss was soft and gentle, because neither of you moved for a second, because you were holding your breath in fear that this moment might be a dream after all, because he put an arm around your waist and held you close, because your hands found their way to his jaw, cupping his face, holding him there as firmly and as carefully as you could, as if not wanting to break him or maybe just not wanting to break the kiss. Because he tasted like mint and beer and vanilla somehow and because he smelled of sandalwood and spice and something so distinctly him. Because it was so familiar and so new at the same time.

Because when he moved his lips against yours, when he deepened the kiss, your feet suddenly weren’t on the ground anymore, not anywhere near the earth, and if you had opened your eyes you probably would have seen heaven, but you didn’t because why would you have, why would you have with his arm around you and his hand holding your cheek and his lips on yours so perfectly.

There were fireworks going off in your heart, butterflies going berserk in your tummy, warmth unfurling in every part of your body.

He tasted of your very first kiss and your last and every single one in between that, of the memories of so many: your legs wrapped around his waist, waves crashing against your bodies, friends cheering from the beach; your arms around his neck, the hood of his jacket, too big for you anyway, pulled over your head, snowflakes catching on your nose; his fingers skipping over your cheek, pulling you close to him, rain dripping against the umbrella he was holding over the two of you; the warmth of his sweater and a cup of tea, sitting cross-legged on his windowsill, his lips barely ghosting over yours, quickly, softly, as to not disturb your stargazing.

When he pulled back, you were tempted to chase after him for another kiss, but instead you just smiled at him. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed, thumb still brushing over your cheek.

“I waited so long for that”, he muttered. The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

“No longer than I have”, you chuckled. You were still a little breathless and a lot emotional. He opened his eyes and pulled back a bit to look at you, the ghost of a grin dancing across his lips.

“No”, he admitted. “Probably not.”

You wanted nothing more than to bathe in this feeling of joy, of bliss, of finally being back home, but...

“Jake”, you whispered. “Why did you never come see me? You visited your parents at least once a year for Christmas. Why now?”

He pulled away from you, drawing his arm back and his hand from your jaw, and you felt horribly lonely at once, like you’d made some irreversible mistake and hurt him deeply. He grabbed the neck of his beer bottle and took a sip. Your teeth found your bottom lip again and you reached for your long abandoned whiskey glass, fingertips skimming over the rim as you watched him from the side. Eventually, he let out a chuckle and shrugged.

“I was scared”, he said quietly. You raised your eyebrows.

“Scared?”, you repeated. You couldn’t believe that any word related to fear was rolling off his tongue. Jake Seresin was never scared. He simply didn’t do fear. “You? That can’t be.”

He laughed then and looked back up at you and you felt yourself smile, relieved that you didn’t seem to have hurt him after all.

“It’s true. Sadly.”

You grinned and shook your head, still in shock that not only he’d been afraid at all, but that he was admitting it - to you, to himself. He really must have grown a lot over the years.

“So why now, all of a sudden?”, you asked.

He was quiet for a moment, just looking at you, taking in your expression, thinking about your question and how to answer it or thinking about if to answer it at all, you didn’t know.

“I flew a mission two months ago.” He’d gone serious. “A few of us almost didn’t come back. Makes you think about your priorities in life.”

You couldn’t help the lump in your throat or the way your fingers stilled. You’d always tried to ignore just how dangerous his job actually was, what was on the line every time he started the plane. Once you’d asked him about it, about why he would purposefully put himself at risk like that, and he’d looked at you in earnest and asked you if you would not do the same for your dream, if you would decide any different, decide to keep yourself safe with no concern for the children in your care. You’d smiled and kissed him instead of giving him an answer. It had been obvious enough.

“So... you’ve been rethinking priorities?”, you asked carefully.

Priorities. That one word had held so much power all those years ago. It had been the reason he’d left, the reason you’d stayed, the reason you’d let him leave, the reason he’d let you stay. Priorities. Over a decade later and it was still haunting you. You’d done your own fair share of thinking about it.

“You haven’t?”, he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. You had to smile as well, shaking your head slightly as you chuckled.

“I have.”

He raised his eyebrows as if to say I told you so.

“You really think we can do this”, you realised, somehow not surprised. Jake just didn’t take unnecessary risks. He nodded.

“I do.”

It had been fifteen years. Fifteen years that you’d spent without him, without anything - no calls, no texts, no nothing. But here he was and despite what should be logical and reasonable and what you should probably do, you knew that you’d still do anything he asked. If he was serious about this, you would be too. If he thought you could manage it, then you would manage it.

“How long are you gonna be here?”, you asked. He chuckled.

“Two weeks.”

“Already got a place to stay?”

He raised his eyebrows at that, amusement apparent in his expression, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Not necessarily.”

“Alright”, you said, trying your hardest not to look too cheeky. “How would you like a cozy little apartment with absolutely no room service but a fully functioning kitchen and a very cute alarm at 3am every night called my cat?”

Jake smiled.

“Sounds lovely.”

“You’re saying that now”, you snorted. “Wait ‘till you get punched in the face by one too-big possum.”

“Sounds very lovely.”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your whiskey - it was almost empty by now and the clock read half past eleven. Was it acceptable to leave already? You’d talked to most everybody you’d wanted to catch up with so far, exchanged numbers with everyone you wanted to keep in touch with. There was nothing really keeping you here.

“Do you...” You bit your lip, suddenly shy for some reason. Maybe it’d been too long to still feel confident when suggesting something like this. “Do you want to get out?”

His grin deepened, turned smug, and he raised his eyebrows, emptying his beer at once.

“I hear there’s an apartment waiting for me”, he said.

“And a demon possum”, you reminded with a laugh.

“Not to forget.”

Silence fell, comfortable, only for a second. He was here and he was real and he had kissed you and you were taking him home. Taking him home because maybe this time it would last. Because you felt fifteen years younger with him, like a girl in her last year of high school. Because you wanted all that again, everything that since then you had only read of in romance novels and watched on screens. That “love of my life”, that “once in a lifetime”, that “heaven on earth”. Maybe you were stupidly optimistic. Maybe you remembered it all through rose-coloured glasses and the perception of a teenage girl.

But maybe it would be even better. Maybe this time it really would last. Maybe you had, in fact, both rethought priorities. Maybe you had both come to the same conclusion. Maybe this time, love would play just as important of a role for your futures as your careers had back then. Maybe what Jake said was true - maybe this was the right time.

“I’ve got my truck parked outside”, he said, putting the beer bottle down on the bar top.

“The same old truck?”, you asked. That truck had been through a lot with the two of you. You’d been through a lot with that truck. You couldn’t believe it still existed.

“Same old truck”, he nodded. You shook your head as you grinned at him. You’d had your first kiss there, you’d said your first I love you’s there - you’d said your last there too.

So you puzzled his phone back together, held it out to him and drawled:

“Then take me for a ride, cowboy.”

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