#this started out as Jake expression & body language practice
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michillangelo · 2 years ago
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Somewhat of a follow-up to this one, Konshu introducing his (totally new) Avatar to the Ennead
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emsfallingsky · 1 year ago
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The Deepest Cut
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Jake x reader
Word Count: 14k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY! graphic sexual content, Angst, degrading, praise, impact play, slapping, language, name calling, unprotected sex, fingering, edging, drinking...that's all I think???
Summary: After a constant back and forth battle between the two of you that seemed to last forever, you find yourself in a position you couldn't even imagine, making you ask yourself if the two of you truly hated each other or were too caught up in your own feelings to truly express how you felt for each other.
You could feel him before you could even see him. The four walls that shaped the large room now felt reduced and constricted. The air became thick and heavy, forcing yourself to take in long deep breaths. You felt your jaw immediately set in place, your teeth practically grinding down to small pieces of sand from the pressure. 
You stood in the kitchen casually chatting with his brothers. Sammy was sitting on the counter, sipping out of his red solo cup while Danny stood next to him doing the same. Josh was on a drunken tangent that made zero sense but because of the effects of the alcohol, it had you all listening in intently. 
The sound of music trailed throughout the house, making them shout over one another trying to get a word in. A few people came and went into the kitchen refilling their own drinks or coming in to try and find someone they knew.
You had drained your cup and walked around to the other side of the island, grabbing a bottle off the counter to refill your drink when you felt him. The room grew stiff and cold, adrenaline surging into your veins and making the steady rhythm of your heart pick up in its pace. Even with your back faced to him, you knew. 
The chirping of your friends stopped, and you flicked your eyes up to see them all looking past you towards the doorway of the kitchen. 
Your hands clenched and you set the bottle down far harder that you had intended, making a clatter as it struck the counter. Every bone in your body became stiff and rigid and you had to will yourself to not turn around and instantly snap at him. 
Josh coughed and Sammy slid off the counter. “Jacob,” Josh said, quickly flicking his eyes over to you, a silent conversation playing between the two of you. You met Josh’s eyes and gave a tiny shake of your head to let him know it was fine. You reached for the juice on the counter and slowly began to pour it into your drink. 
Instantly your body start to lock up and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, feeling him come to stand right behind you. You quickly twisted the cap of the juice back on and turned on your heels not being able to take any more of it. 
You hadn’t realized just how close Jake was to you so when you spun around, you found yourself taking a step back against, pressing the small of your back against the counter, his face was only inches away from you. 
“What?” you spat out through gritted teeth, crossing your arms over your chest. 
You saw the corner of Jake’s lip curl up in a smirk and he let out a small laugh. “What? I can’t even walk into my own kitchen without you chewing me out,” Jake taunted, crossing his own arms over his chest, and leaning in closer to you. 
What had started off as casually making playful and teasing comments to one another ended up in an endless battle that the two of you never saw coming. At first you paid no mind to it, it was fun-flirty even. But as time went on, the two of you kept cutting deeper into one another trying to strike a nerve that was buried beneath each other's flesh. 
You don’t know how it happened but soon enough the two of you couldn’t stand each other. You found yourselves complaining at the thought or idea of even having to see each other and God forbid you actually ended up in the same room together. The two of you would go at it spitting venomous words at one another while you continued an endless verbal assault at one another. 
Before you knew it, the two of you couldn’t stand each other. It was actual torture to have to stand in the presence of one another and it came to a point where his brothers made sure the two of you rarely crossed paths. This on the other hand had been unexpected but was unavoidable. 
The Kiszka’s were known for throwing crazy parties every time their family left time leaving practically the whole town to cram together in their home. The voices of the others start up again, seeming to look past the interaction seeing that it was so far somewhat civilized. 
You narrowed your eyes, locking them with Jake’s while watching him try to fight the smile that was forming across his face. You rolled your eyes and let out a scoff. “You just always have to show up huh?” you spat out. 
Jake smiled and let out a giggle…a giggle? He placed one hand to the side of you, next to your hip and leaned against the counter, his body was practically up against yours. “You really are that dumb huh? I told you it was my house,” Jake said, clenching his jaw and speaking through his gritted teeth. 
You let out a huff and turned your head to the side, ripping your eyes away from him. “Fuck you Jake,” you said, letting out an annoyed sighed. 
Suddenly you could feel his breath against your neck, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against your jawline. “You fucking wish,” Jake whispered into your ear. 
Your whole body tensed, and you sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the air catch in your chest. A familiar-yet shameful feeling grew within you, making you clamp your legs together with fail feeling Jake’s own leg positioned between yours, brushing against the exposed skin of your thigh. You took in a deep inhale trying to calm yourself down but instead were met by the intoxicating smell of his cologne that made your head start to spin.
Jake chuckled and glanced down, noticing your movement. Instead of removing his foot from between your legs, he nudged it further open with the side of his foot. “Ah, you do want me to fuck you then huh?” Jake taunted.
Your cheeks flushed, feeling embarrassed that you had been caught. You knew what you were feeling was wrong but the ache growing between your legs had your head spinning and telling you that those thoughts in your head were good. 
You quickly turned your head back practically bumping your face against his. You locked eyes with him and clenched your jaw. “You’re out of your mind. Why would anyone want to fuck you?” you spat at him. 
A smile grew on Jake’s face, and you watched his tongue poke out, wetting his bottom lip. “Must be my charm,” Jake said, giving you a wink. 
You threw your head back and laughed, truly taken back by his comment. “You? Charming? You clearly must be drunk,” you said, tauntingly. 
Jake’s smile on his face disappeared and his face set in a glare. He inched himself closer to you, so your noses were practically touching. “Maybe, but love, I can guarantee there is no amount of alcohol in the world that could possibly rid me from the amount of anger and hate you make me feel,” Jake sneered. 
You found your eyes dancing around his face, a blank expression on yours not knowing what to say. Most of the time you were able to brush off his comment but this one cut into you. 
Your jaw clenched so tight that the muscles in your jaw screamed at you. Your chest rose and fell heavily with each breath you took, and you were surprised you couldn’t see puffs of smoke in the air as you pushed out an audible huff through your nose.
Jake let out a breathy laugh and turned his head away from you. “What? Can’t take the heat?” Jake asked, tilting his head to the side. From the angle he tilted his head, your eyes cascaded down his neck seeing his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat while he awaited your response. 
You hated him. You hated the way he spoke to you; you hated the way you instantly found yourself getting riled up just being in his presence, but most of all you hated the way he undeniably made your legs clamp together and left your panties in a dripping mess. 
You uncrossed your arms letting them fall back to rest against the island. “Of course, I can take the heat. You’re just pathetic is all. You’re a fucking ass Jake Kiszka,” you sneered, tilting your chin up towards him. 
Jake smirked and trailed his eyes trail over your face, landing on your lips. Your mouth parted and you wet your bottom lip with your tongue unconsciously. Jake moved his face closer to you and rested his other hand to the side of you, trapping you between his arms and the counter.  
Your mind started to race as his eyes stayed locked on your lips, still inching close. You soon found your eyes slipping shut but just before his mouth was about to connect with yours, he turned his head and looked over your shoulder. His hand that was by your hip moved behind you as he plucked a bottle off the island. 
Jake pushed himself back, a playful smirk on his face, watching your face twist in confusion. “Something wrong love? Were you expecting something else?” Jake asked, pulling the top off the bottle, and taking a swig from it. 
You let out a frustrated groan and glared at him, crossing your arms against your chest once again. “Of course not. I’m not that stupid and I’m not that fucking easy,” you said, rolling your eyes. You even found it hard to believe the lie you pushed past your lips. 
“So I’ve noticed,” Jake said, smirking at you as he raised the bottle back to his lips. You uncrossed your arms and smacked them down at your sides, bawling your hands into fists. 
“God, you just make me so fucking mad you know that?” you snapped, taking a step forward towards him. 
“Ah, do I? I haven’t noticed,” Jake smirked, tilting his head down to look at you. 
“Would you stop that!” you yelled, feeling a crease form between your brows. 
“Stop what doll?” Jake said, cocking his head to the side, trying to read you. 
“You! Fucking smirking and laughing and shit. You find this amusing?” you asked, pushing a finger into his chest. 
Jake was taking another sip out of the bottle but sputtered and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as the liquid leaked out of the corner of his mouth. He let out a small laugh and swallowed the rest of the alcohol. “You know, I do actually. It’s very amusing,” Jake grinned, taking a step towards you. “It’s very cute how you’re trying to hide just how bad you want me,”
Another frustrated groan left your chest, and you shook your head. “God, I fucking hate you so much. You just make me so fucking mad. I-I swear sometimes I just wanna-“
“Just wanna what? Hm? Wanna hurt me?” Jake said, taking another step towards you and moved his mouth to the side of your ear. “Do you promise you’ll make it hurt baby?” Jake whispered into your ear. 
A small gasp escaped you, only one that he could hear, and you watched him back up to look at you. The same stupid smirk growing on his face. 
Your eyes were locked on his and your whole body seemed to freeze. You didn’t know what to say. Instead, you cleared your throat, turning yourself back towards the counter and grabbing your drink while you walked past him. While you did so, you intentionally bumping into him with your shoulder as you excited. 
The rest of the night you tried to distract yourself by talking to friendly faces, but you couldn’t help but ignore the feeling of his presence. You would look over the shoulder of someone you were chatting with and there he was, leaning up against the wall or chatting with someone but his eyes always found yours. 
The tension in the room was thick and heavy. You could cut it with a knife. But this time it was a different kind of tension- not the short of tension the two of you were used to. The walls continued to feel as though they were suffocating you, but you knew the real reason you found it hard to breathe was because of the way Jake’s eyes were piercing through you. 
The harsh glare that usually overtook Jake’s face was now gone. Instead, his face was softened, and a light shade of pink covered the apples of his cheeks from the alcohol he had been drinking. His eyes that you so often found slitted and harsh you now found round and relaxed but there was something else written in them. It was like he was calling you with them wanting you to notice he was there. 
While he leaned against the wall, you could tell that he wasn’t just looking at you…he was studying you. Taking in not only the way you looked but the way you interacted with others. He found himself intrigued at the way you found yourself reaching out to grab hold of someone’s shoulder when they made you laugh or the way your eyes crinkled in the corner as you smiled. However, it wasn’t just him now noticing this sudden change. Whatever energy he was putting out was now influencing you. Your body seemed to buzz with this sort of electricity, feeling the tips of your toes and fingers tingle every time you caught Jake’s eye. 
It felt like this was the first time you were truly seeing him. Your eyes wandered all over him, taking him in. You were able to notice how the side up his mouth pulled up in the corner when he was talking to someone and when he smiled or laughed, he almost seemed to glow. 
Jake let out a giggle loud enough for you to hear across the room and you watched him rake his hand through his hair, catching its wavey locks between his fingers. Every small detail you noticed made you clench your legs together- from the way his nose came to a perfect point, to the way he would rub his fingers around the sides of his mouth when he was in a deep conversation with someone or the way he would lick over his pillowy soft lip after taking a sip from his drink. 
You tried your best to shake off the feeling that had overcome you which ultimately led to you downing a couple drinks to try and suppress the feeling. It helped to a point, and you felt the small buzz creeped into you, making you feel a bit loose and help ease the butterflies in your stomach. 
The night continued smoothly with you and Jake exchanging a few more glances at each other. Some of them seemed playful and flirty but sometimes you found him glaring at you with his jaw locked in place tightly making the muscles in his jaw flex. It made you frustrated. How could he look so sweet one time and then the next time look at you like he wanted to rip your head off?
You ended up stopping to chat with someone you recognized from middle school, indulging in the old stories you two were sharing together. You had been so caught up in conversation that you didn’t see Jake start to creep your way. The two of you were so infested in the conversation as you laughing together, reminiscing about younger days when suddenly you felt someone bump into your shoulder, making you spill your drink on your shirt. 
“What the fuck!” you said, turning on your heels to try and find the perpetrator. Your eyes landed on Jake who was glancing at you over his shoulder with a smug expression on his face. 
You let out a huff and threw your hand down against your thigh in frustration. “I fucking hate you Jacob!” you yelled, turning back to the girl you were chatting with, excusing yourself while you made your way to find a bathroom to clean off.
You started down the small hallway, finding the bathroom and locking yourself in it. You set your cup down on the counter and looked in the mirror seeing a stain covering the front of your shirt. You clenched your jaw and let out a huff through your nose. You were furious. Jake just kept digging deeper and deeper tonight pushing all your buttons to try and strike up your nerves. 
Grasping the handle of the sink, you turned on the faucet and started cleaning the stain on your shirt but wiped your head around hearing the doorknob jiggle. “Someone’s in here!” you called over your shoulder. 
The jiggling stopped for a second but then the sound of someone’s fists banging on the door made you whip your head around once again. “I said someone’s in here!” you yelled in frustration. 
This time the banging on the door was harder and made the entire door shake. You let out a groan, turning off the sink and walked over to the door grasping the handle and pulling it open. “Jesus Christ! I said someone was in-“
The words were caught in your throat seeing Jake standing in front of you, one of his arms propped on the door frame as he leaned against it. You let out a scoff and went to shut the door again, but we’re stopped by Jake’s hand pressing against the door. You shot him a glare which he ignored as he pushed the door open and stepped inside the bathroom. 
“I didn’t say you could come in,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Good thing I didn’t ask then,” Jake said shrugging as he closed the bathroom door, leaning himself against it and crossing his own arms over his chest. 
“What do you want Jake? you sighed defeatedly. You were over it. The constant bickering was exhausting, and you didn’t have it in you to keep at it. Plus, you now felt a bit nervous in his presence from all the looks he was shooting your way.
You turned back towards the sink, turning the faucet back on and grabbing a towel off the towel rack and wetting it. You started dabbing at your shirt, slowly raising your eyes to look at him in the mirror. One of Jake’s hands was raised to his mouth, a finger rubbing over his bottom lip as he looked back at you in the mirror. You were now the one to cock your head to the side and shoot him a puzzled look. 
Jake’s eyes met yours in the mirror and then ripped away as they slowly trailed down your body. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling your whole body freeze and goosebumps form across your skin watching him take in your figure. You quickly looked away, continuing to try and get the stain out of your shirt. “I’m serious Jake, what do you want?” 
The sound of the lock clicking made you turn around to face him. You frowned and looked at him, seeing that same stupid smirk on his face. “Jake what are you doing?” you asked, placing the damp towel on the counter and spinning yourself around.
Jake pushed himself off the door and took a few short steps toward you, closing the distance between the two of you. He didn’t stop until you were forced to press the small of your back up against the lip of the counter. 
“J-Jake,” you said, raising your hands up to press against his chest to try and stop him from coming closer but failed. As he came closer, you could smell the mixture of alcohol and hos cologne on him. He finally stopped himself, only a few inches away from you, your hands still on his chest, failing to push him back- not really wanting to push him back really. 
Jake’s eyes dipped down, and you watched them dance around your face before ultimately landing on your lips. He pulled his own bottom lip between his lip and mumbled something under his breath. You flicked your eyes back up to his own and saw his eyes looking back at you, his lids heavy as they peered down at you. 
A gasp escaped you when you felt his leg slide between yours, brushing against the inside of your thigh, feeling the fabric of your skirt ride up. Your hands instinctively gripped the fabric of his shirt, catching some of the chains from his necklaces in your hands. You looked back up and watched the corner of his mouth pull up in a smirk.
“Jake w-what are you doing?” you stuttered, your own eyes starting to dance across his face trying to read him. Jake hummed and leaned further into you, his mouth coming to the side of your face, whispering into your ear. 
“I think you know love,” he said, his voice deep and gravely, making you shudder. 
“W-what?” you stuttered, taken by surprise by his actions. 
“Oh, come on darling, don't play dumb,” Jake said, speaking into your neck. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me all night…you’re driving me fucking crazy.”
You let out a scoff and pushed him back trying to ignore the tingly feeling in the bottom of your stomach. “You must be out of your mind,” you snap, one hand still clutching the fabric of his shirt. Jake took a small step back; his leg still resting between yours while he smirked at you. 
“Is that so?” Jake says, cocking his head to the side and then you suddenly feel the top of his leg push forward and brush against your clit. You let out a gasp, biting your bottom lip.
“Sure, you don’t know what you’re talking about?” Jake said, placing both hands next to your hips on the counter, closing the distance between you. 
“Jake, d-dont,” you say, turning your head to avoid having to look at him. You knew, one glance and it was all over. You suddenly felt Jake’s breath against your neck, and it took you everything in your power to hold back the moan that threatened to escape you. 
“I’ll stop whenever you want me to,” Jake said, brushing his lips against the soft skin of your neck. The moans that were trying to desperately hold back ended up escaping, letting a soft whine fill the room.
“Mmm, see, we both know you don't want me to stop,” Jake said, pressing his lips to your neck. There was no point of holding anything back anymore and you let him draw out a pathetic whimper while you closed your eyes and leaned your head back.
“Is that right? Thought you hated me? Now look at you, practically crumbling to your feet before me…fucking pathetic,” Jake spat, removing his face away from your neck. You opened your eyes, bringing your face down to look at him while you clenched your jaw. 
“Oh, trust me, I do fucking hate you,” you said, through gritted teeth. Jake cocked his head to the side, his eyes gleaming in the low lighting from the bathroom. You watched as his tongue poked out of his mouth, grazing over the bottom of his lip while he turned his head to the side. 
“Oh yeah? Prove it,” Jake said in a voice that daunted you and left you shuddering before him. He knew he had put you in a position where you so badly want to push him away, but your body was failing you and telling you- pleadingfor you to draw him closer to you. 
You stared back at him, your eyes flickering all around his face while he stared back at you. He cocked one of his brows up, challenging you, waiting to see if you would make a move. 
You sucked in a hiss and the hands that were pressed to his chest, took hold of the fabric as you yanked him towards you. His mouth instantly collided with yours and you felt a rush throughout your body finally feeling his lips connecting with yours.
Jake’s hands found your waist and gripped your hips harshly as he pinned them back against the counter. You sucked in a breath feeling his hands finally on you. His touch was something you didn’t know you craved and now you had a piece of it, you knew there was no chance of going back. 
Both of your kisses were hungry as your mouths attacked each other, fighting for dominance while trying to communicate this ‘hatred’ the two of you had for one another. 
Your knees practically buckled when you felt his tongue brush against your lower lip and then slip into your mouth. You let out a small moan into his mouth, removing one of your hands from his chest to grab at the side of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. 
Jake let out a hiss feeling you give a small tug to the hair on the base of his neck. He backed himself away just a few inches so he could get a good look at you. Your lips were swollen, and your cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink, this time not from the alcohol. You gripped harder on the handful of hair at the nape of his neck, trying to pull him back towards you. Jake bit his lip and smirked, leaning back into you.
“That’s it baby, need you to make it hurt,” Jake mumbled against your lips. His mouth returned to your, somehow hungrier than it was before. 
Your hands wandered over each other's bodies, pulling, and grabbing at each other not holding back. Your hand bawled the fabric of his shirt up tightly, raking your fingers over the fabric and digging into his skin beneath it. 
Jake bit down on your bottom lip, making you let out a hiss, feeling him break through the skin. “Fuck you,” you groaned. 
“Oh, trust me, I’m going to,” Jake smirked, placing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth. He took a step back, making you release the hold on his shirt. You were flustered and breathless resulting in your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. 
You rested your hands on the counter behind you while Jake studied you. He leaned back against the door, one hand on his face while he stroked his chin. His eyes wandered all over you, stopping occasionally, to soak up the edge of your curves. You felt yourself moving your legs together, trying to relieve the ache that grew between them.
Jake’s stare was heavy and intense, and you found your knuckles starting to turn white as you gripped harder against the counter. His stare was predatory…primal. There was a want- a need. A stare that was luring you in while you stood there helplessly waiting for him to sink his teeth into you. You were his prey, and he was going to devour you from the inside out and you gladly welcomed it. 
He had his bottom lip trapped between his two fingers, rolling it around while you watched his eyes narrow. Hiis hand lowered away from his mouth and then signal with his two fingers for you to approach him. You slowly released your grip you had against the counter and straightened yourself up.
“C'mere don’t go shy on me now love,” Jake said, the corner of his mouth twitching, clearly amused by your shudden shyness. 
“I’m not fucking shy,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoe. 
“What was that?” Jake asked, a crease forming between his eyes.
You cleared your throat and clenched your jaw, slowly bringing your eyes up to meet his. “I’m. Not. Fucking. Shy.”
You immediately regretted your words seeing Jake’s hand shoot out and wrap around your neck. A strangled gasp escaping you, feeling your breath catch in your throat as his hands dug into the sides of your neck. Your hands flew up, clutching his wrist while he peered down at you from the bridge of his nose. His eyes were ice cold, and you could see the muscles in his jaw flex as he clenched down. 
Jake moved his face close to yours, the tip of his nose poking against the hollow of your cheek. ‘I’m so sick of your fucking mouth. Knees now.” Jake hissed through gritted teeth. You could feel Jake press into the side of your neck once more, making your head spin from the lack of oxygen. 
“I said. Get. On. Your. Fucking. Knees,” Jake spat and in one quick movement had you by the back of your hair, yanking you down before him. You felt the cold tile hit your knees and you let out a hiss feeling the combined pain of the floor against you and the ache of your hair being grasped against the base of your neck. 
Jake released his grip on you and moved his hand to cup the bottom of your chin, tilting it up towards him. You slowly looked up to meet his eyes and found yourself practically drooling at the sight of him. His long hair cascaded around his face and his bottom lip was parted and glistened from the thin sheen of saliva that coated it. 
His thumb lightly brushed the bottom of your lip, and you watched as he took in a visible breath, his chest rising and falling as he did. The sight of him was enough to make your head spin as you felt your wetness pooling between your legs. He looked completely fucked out with his heavy lids drinking in the sight of you kneeling before him. 
Jake pulled his hand away from you and started to quickly undo his belt, not paying much attention as his eyes stayed fixated upon you. You took your eyes off his looking down when you heard the metallic clinking of his belt buckle. You found your hands having a mind of their own as they came up to help him, popping open the button of his jeans. 
“Someone’s eager, hm?” Jake taunted while letting out a soft chuckle. You raised your eyes to his, a stern look coming over your face as you began to unzip him. 
“Shut up Jake,” you hissed, grabbing the top of his jeans, and sliding them down so they rested at the middle of his thighs. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Jake raise a hand and before you knew it a small smack landed to the side of your cheek. 
“Watch your mouth…you’ll be needing it soon,” Jake scolded. You rolled your eyes and moved your eyes back down to his center. Once your eyes landed back on him, you found yourself pulling your bottom lip into your mouth while you tried to hold back a groan. 
You could see his hardness straining against his boxers and a small wet spot to the side where his own arousal was having its own effect on him. “Fuck,” you mumbled, running one of your hands up the length of his thigh, squeezing at the muscle. 
“Yeah? Want to put your filthy little mouth around my cock?” Jake asked, moving his hips forwards toward your face. You bit your lip, tilting your head to connect with his gaze while you moved your hand to his center, palming at his bulge. You watched his expression change as he furrowed his brows together and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Jake’s eyes flicked down to your hand, and you felt him push his hips into it.
Jake moved his hands that were hanging down beside him, to sweep some of your hair that hung down in front of your face, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. “Take them off and wrap that dirty little mouth of yours around me,” Jake growled. 
Your eyes flicked back up to him seeing his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. An evil and cruel sight as he peered down at you; his jaw clenched while he tried his best to refrain himself. It was like watching a hawk circling above you, waiting for that perfect moment to strike. 
You took your eyes away from Jake’s, landing back on his hardness and moved your hand upward to tuck your fingers under the elastic band. You grabbed hold of the band slowly sliding the fabric down his legs. You had to hold back the gasp that threatened itself when his length revealed itself, coming up to hit against his stomach. You could feel yourself crumbling at the sight. The tip of his cock had a small bead of his arousal glistened in the low light in the bathroom. You found yourself stunned by his length, seeing the tip coming to rest just below his belly button.
“See something you like, doll?” Jake spoke from above you. You quickly nodded, not able to take your eyes off him. “Go on then,” Jake said, guiding your face towards him with your ponytail. 
You raised one of your hands and took his length in your hand, feeling just how big he was. His skin was warm and velvety smooth and as you wrapped your fingers around him, found they were barely able to touch. 
You moved yourself closer towards him, your hand stroking up his length, circling your thumb over his tip and spreading his arousal. You heard Jake let out a groan, urging you to continue. 
You gave him a few long, languid strokes before bringing your face close to his cock and giving his tip a teasing lick. The taste of him on your tongue made you let out a small moan and your eyes practically rolled back in your head. It was like tasting forbidden fruit, you knew you were supposed to but now that you’ve had a taste you knew you weren’t going to be able to stay away. 
You could feel Jake tighten his hand around your hair in response making a small whimper escape you. “Ah c’mon baby…I know you like a little pain,” Jake said in a deep, sultry voice.
You continue to teasingly lick around his shaft before bringing your tongue to the underside of his length and licking a long stripe up him until you got to his tip and took him into your mouth. “Fuuuck,” Jake groaned, throwing his head back against the door with a thud. 
You eventually sunk down onto him, feeling the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat and swallowing around him. “Oh god,” Jake moaned, feeling his cock twitch deep inside your mouth. 
Jake grabbed harder against your hair and forced you further down until the tip of your nose was pushed against the small dusting of hair. Tears started to spring to your eyes, and you fought your hardest trying not to gag. 
“Right there. C’mon now let me see those eyes. Wanna see how- fuck, how good you look with a mouthful of my cock,” Jake stuttered in between moans. 
You slowly lifted your gaze upward, watching the muscle on the exposed part of his abdomen twitch and tighten. You continue your stare upwards, seeing how his chest rose and fell as he took in shaky breaths feeling his own pleasure take over. 
Creeping higher, you saw the sides of his neck exposed and his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. The back of Jake’s head was resting on the bathroom door. His eyes were shut, and his brows were furrowed with his mouth hanging open. The sight of him made your core ache and left you clamping your thighs together. 
Jake’s hand was still holding you down on him and you found yourself breathing in deeply through your nose trying to force yourself around him. You watched Jake open his eyes and slowly peer down at you, looking at you over the bridge of his nose. You looked up at him with your tear filled eyes, nostril flaring with each breath you took around him. A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth seeing the sight of him buried deep in your mouth. 
“Finally got you to shut up huh?” Jake taunted and then finally tugged you back by your ponytail. He watched you come off of him, a string of saliva connected the two of you. You took in a deep audible breath, trying to catch your breath between coughs. 
Your hand found the base of his cock, wrapping around it and while you caught your breath. You started to stroke him once again, him now slick in your hand from your saliva. 
As you did, you peered up at him to see his response. Jake’s mouth was parted, and you watched him close it, clenching his jaw as you worked your way up to his tip. “Fuck,” he moaned, while his whole body shuddered as you circled his head with your palm. 
“Do you still hate me?” you asked, peering up at him through your lashes and rubbing his tip over the flat of your tongue.
“Fucking Christ,” Jake groaned, tightening his hold around your hair, making the back of your head practically scream for some sort of relief. 
You were leaning forward to wrap your mouth around him again when he forcefully tugged you back and pulled you to the side of him. He stepped away from the door and yanked you to where he was standing before, with your back facing the door. 
You winced, feeling pain course through you as Jake yanked you around handling you like you were nothing. You were something small and weak and he knew you wouldn’t fight him because deep down you were the one who was secretly hungry for him.
“Oh hush, I know you like it,” Jake snapped, positioning himself in front of you and trapping you between the door and his body. 
There was barely enough space for you to even look up at him and when you did, you saw him looking down at you, leaning against the door with his hand. His cock was inches away from your face, daring you to reach out and touch him. 
Jake let go of your hair and as he did, your head bounced back to hit the door from the sheer force of his hand that was once wrapped around you. You clenched your jaw, trying to push down the pain, taking a deep inhale. 
Jake smirked and tilted his chin up towards you. “You’re mean even when you aren’t talking…it’s not nice. Gonna have to teach you some manners,” Jake mumbled, while bringing his hand to your face and brushing his thumb over the top of your cheek. 
You rolled your eyes and tried to move your hand away from his palm but was quickly stopped when you felt his hand firmly grasp your face. His grip was tight as he pinched his fingers into the hollows of your cheek. 
“See, you could be nice but you’re not and it’s rather dumb of you because I know how badly you want it, so stop fucking fighting me,” Jake hissed and then shoved your head back, so it was now pressed against the door. 
“Not gonna let you get away with that thought…gonna have to teach you a lesson, okay?” Jake said in a horse force, letting up in the pressure of his fingers around your face. You quickly nodded, no longer feeling the urge to fight with him. 
Jake removed his hand from your face and wrapped it around his dick, giving it a few long strokes. “I’m gonna fuck those filthy words right out of your mouth,” Jake growled, tilting his hips forward so his hand now brushed against your bottom lip with each stroke. 
You started back at Jake, blinking a couple times before moving your gaze lower to watch him work himself over. Just the sight of him pleasuring himself would’ve been more than enough to send you over the edge.
Your gaze softened and you felt drunk off him. His words that you often hated hearing now left you crumbling before him. His presence that often made you immediately angered, annoyed and wanting to find a way to escape him now did the opposite by luring you in and enticing you to come back for more. 
“Open for me baby,” Jake whispered from above you. You did what he said, slowly unhinged your jaw and as you did you felt his tip brushing over your bottom lip.
“There you go, open a little wider for me, I wanna feel all of you,” Jake said, removing his hand from his cock and slowly started to press into your mouth. You fully released your jaw, allowing for him to slide fully in, resulting in a deep groan from him. You shifted your eyes upward, giving him an obscene sight as he sunk his cock further back, nudging the back of your throat. 
Jake’s brows furrowed and he let out a wince which to the blind eye would’ve made someone think he was in pain, but you knew it was pure pleasure. “God, fuck,” Jake groaned, resting his forehead against the inside of his arm. He slowly pulled out of your mouth before delivering a hard thrust to the back of your throat making you sputter and gag around him. 
“That’s it, c’mon I know your filthy mouth can take it,” Jake spurred on, pressing further back into your throat, making you gag around him. Your hand immediately came to his thigh, and you pushed him back feeling like your lungs were on fire. Jake took a step back, removing his cock from your mouth and let out a giggle. 
“Awe c’mon y/n, I know you can do better than that,” Jake said looking down and giving you a half smile. You looked back up at him, your eyes narrowing as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 
Jake’s brows creased and you watched him take in a heavy breath before feeling his palm connect with your cheek. “Be fucking nice, I’m so sick of it,” Jake said scolding you.
You pushed your tongue to the side of your cheek and turned your head to the side, not meeting his gaze. “I am being nice,” you mumbled. 
Jake scoffed from above you and you felt his hand grab the bottom of your chin tilting it up towards him. “You know if you’re gonna say something smart, you better speak up so I can hear you. Now open your fucking mouth,” Jake spat.
You knew you were now in for it, seeing his playfulness quickly turn into frustration. You hesitantly opened your mouth knowing this time there was going to be no stopping the havoc he was about to unleash on your throat. 
You had barely opened your mouth when Jake forced it open with his cock and quickly showed it down your throat, giving you no time to adjust to him. His hand found the top of your head, grabbing hold of your hair as he started to mercilessly fuck into your mouth, pulling your forward onto him with each thrust. 
“Yeah, that’s fucking right, gonna fuck those words right out of you,” Jake grunted in between moans. You felt your whole body struggling against him. The muscles in your stomach tensing as you gagged around him, feeling tears start to fall down the sides of your cheeks. 
You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment trying to fight back against your body, but we’re immediately scolded by Jake. “Open your eyes, wanna see your pretty little face while I fuck it,” Jake said, tugging the top of your hair just enough to make your neck crane upward. 
“There we go- God. Fuck!” Jake said, continuing his quick pace in your mouth. You would’ve been afraid at the thought of somebody possibly listening to the explicit sounds leaving your bodies, but you found yourself being able to tune everything out, leaving just you and Jake in the moment.
Jake delivered one final trust into your mouth and instead of pulling out, rested his cock right in the back of your throat. The blow of his thrust, pinning your head back against the door, feeling the walls of your throat swallow around him. 
Jake whimpered and turned his head to the side, burying his face into the side of his arm. You could see his mouth open as he tugged his teeth into the side of his arm, pulling in a hiss. He moved his head away from his arm and peered down at you, his pupil blown wide, consuming his iris. “God, how does something so filthy and sinful feel like heaven?” 
You held his gaze, watching him stare down lustfully at the sight of his cock hidden deep down inside your throat. He slowly pulled his hips back, removing his cock from your mouth. Once fully out of your mouth, you inhaled deeply trying to take in the air around you to help ease the fire that burned in your lungs. 
“Atta girl, see I knew you could do it,” Jake said, releasing the hold from your hair and moving his hand to gently stroke your cheek. His thumb moved down, brushing over your bottom lip, still slick with saliva and spreading the mess across your face. “Pretty,” Jake mumbled. 
You were taken back from his comment. You didn’t think in a million years you would ever hear Jake give you a compliment, let alone calling you pretty. Hearing his words of admiration made you suddenly feel shy, feeling blush spread across your cheeks.
Jake moved his hand away from your face, holding it out for you to take. You grabbed hold of it and felt Jake help bring you up, so you were standing in front of him. Your knees and thighs ached from being in such an uncomfortable position for so long that you found yourself grabbing his shoulder as you steadied yourself. 
Jake gave a small chuckle, watching you struggle to maintain your balance. He removed his hand from your grasp and brought it up to your face, brushing away the strands of hair that were sticking to the sides of your face from the saliva that coated your mouth. 
You stared longingly into his eyes, noticing the small golden flecks in his eyes that you never once had seen before. You watched as Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. This time it wasn’t rushed or hungry, it was surprisingly sweet. 
Jake pulled his lips away from you, resting his forehead against yours. He swiped his thumb up and down your cheek and as you stared back at him, feeling like this was the first time you were truly seeing him. He appeared soft before you, something that you hadn’t expected to see on him. But before you knew it, that special moment was gone watching him back his face away from yours, an evil smile forming across his face. “Probably thought I didn’t forget, hm?” Jake cooed, turning his head to the side. 
“W-what?” you asked, frowning in confusion. Jake let out a small chuckle and moved his face to the side of yours. You felt his hand grab hold of your waist, pulling them towards him. 
“Still gotta teach you some manners” Jake whispered into your ear, giving it a small nip, and making the hair on your neck stand up.
Before you had time to answer, Jake was picking you up and placing you on the edge of the counter. As he walked you over, you could feel his cock brushing against the inside of your leg, and you felt your whole body shudder from the contact. 
Jake set you down on the counter, standing in between your legs. His hands still rested on your hips, digging his fingers into the muscle feeling a dull ache start to form. He stared at you intensely and you held your breath waiting to see what his next moves were. A sudden gasp escaped you felt you felt him shift his hips forward, brushing his erection against the front of your panties, ghosting over your clit. Your hands once again found themselves gripping the fabric of his shirt, your mouth hanging loosely as you folded forward into him. 
Jake let out a small chuckle grabbing hold of you while your forehead resting against his chest. You were certain that you could feel his body relax into you, but the moment was short lived, feeling his hand come off of your hip and onto your shoulder. 
“Awe c’mon now…I haven’t even touched you and you’re quite literally folding in front of me,” Jake said, pushing you back by your shoulder so you were now sitting upright. “Don’t go soft on me now,” Jake whispered, trailing the tip of his finger down your shoulder. 
He swept his finger back up the length of your arm and then proceeded to run it over the length of your collar bone. You sat on the edge of the counter watching him intently while you saw his eyes flick down to watch his hands trace over your body. 
You felt your breath catch in your chest when you felt the tip of his finger dip under the front of your tank top and teasingly swipe over the swell of your breast. Your mouth parted slightly, and you instinctively arched your back into his touch. Jake’s eyes flicked up to yours and you watched his eyes soften as he took in the sight of you. 
Jake’s eyes danced over your face, and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth feeling yourself getting drunk off the way he was staring at you. It seemed like his guard was down and you saw that small, rare glimpse of his soft side. 
Jake's other hand came to cup the side of your neck and you watched his eyes flick down to your lips. You watched as Jake’s tongue poked out of his mouth and then swipe over his bottom lip. 
You let your free hand that wasn’t grabbing hold of his shirt come up to rest on his abdomen, the palm of your hand brushing against the bare skin of his thigh while you slid your hand upwards. Jake took in a shaky breath feeling your hand rest on his body and you felt his cock twitch against your inner thigh. You watched him slowly lean into you, his eyes never leaving yours before his mouth met your own.
This time when his lips met yours, you found time to start to slow down. While you both wanted each other badly, even if you wouldn’t admit it, this new kiss felt soft…passionate even. 
You found your hands traveling up the length of him, exploring his own body and discovering places you didn’t even know about. You were rather surprised, feeling just how warm his body felt under your hand since more times than not, his presence would leave you feeling ice cold. 
Jake took his time with you, placing soft kisses to your lips while his hands gently roamed your body, lingering on the tops of your hips while he gave them a good squeeze. He gave a teasing lick to your top lip and just as you started to part it, he pulled away giving you a teasing smirk. You let out a huff, bawling the fabric of his shirt into your hand out of frustration. 
Jake let out a laugh and then press his mouth to your cheek, giving it a small kiss. “Hm? Something you want?” Jake asked, beginning to press small kisses under the shell of your ear and down your neck. 
You threw your head back, feeling his lips graze over the sensitive skin on your neck and instantly start to feel your wetness pool between your legs. “Fuuuuck Jake,” you moan, clamping your eyes closed and pushing your chest further into him. 
“What?” Jake mumbled into your skin while his hand that had a hold on your hip coming off and started to squeeze your thigh. You released the hold on his shirt and snaked your arm behind his head, pulling his head further into your neck as he began to suck on it. “Fuck,” you moaned, sliding your hand down his shirt trying to reach his erection. 
Jake took his hand that was resting on the side of your neck and placed it over your free hand and stopped it. You instantly opened your eyes and looked down at his hand and then back up to him with a confused frown on your face. 
Jake’s eyes met your and you saw the corner of his mouth turn up into a smile before shooting you a coy looking trying his best to hide the smile on his face. “Still gotta teach you those manners” Jake said in a slightly British accent. You let out a soft giggle and looked down, hiding the blush the was creeping onto your face. 
“I think it’s time to change that,” Jake said, leaning his face back towards yours so he could whisper in your ear. 
Jake’s hand that was resting on your thigh slowly started to run up and down it and you found your leg slowly starting to close, feeling your arousal spread throughout your body. Jake started to pepper kisses along your neck once more and released his hand on top of yours. 
“You don’t get to touch me until I tell you to, now keep that hand right there and don’t you dare move it, do you understand?” Jake growled into your ear. You quickly nodded your head against him, gripping another handful of his shirt, this time to make sure you hung onto him and didn’t dare to move. 
Jake’s hand that was rubbing against your thigh came down and gave it a small tap that made your whole body jolt. 
“Words. C’mon you know this…and don’t get too smart with them,” Jake said, continuing to press sloppy open mouth kisses down your neck. 
“Y-yea-fuck'' you started to say but were cutoff when you felt Jake’s mouth suck on the special space where your shoulder connected to your neck. 
“Uh-uh, try it again,” Jake said, giving your thigh another swat before reattaching his mouth to your neck. You took in a deep inhale, leaning your head back and feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
“Yes Jake,” you moaned, your hand that had been resting on the back of his neck, coming to tangle in his hair. You felt Jake’s hand continue to squeeze harder into your thigh and your whole body shuddered when you felt his thumb come down and swipe the edge of your panties. 
“Yeah?” Jake said, pulling his mouth off your neck to look at your face that was tightly knitted together in pleasure. You bit your bottom lip, nodding your head while you gripped on the back of his head harder, trying to draw him back to you, 
Jake continued to give you soft kisses along your neck, his hand still resting on your thigh while he continued to give you teasing swipes to the inside of your thigh. You found yourself growing impatient as Jake continued to tease you and you found yourself throwing your head back against the mirror and letting out a loud huff. 
Jake sucked rather harshly against your neck, surely leaving a mark as he silently scolded you. 
Your face shriveled up from the dull ache Jake was pulling against your skin, a warning to show that he didn’t have to use his words to get to you to behave. He made sure unspoken words were now a part of you. His own scripture now woven into your skin. 
You were so caught up in feeling Jake’s mouth wander across your skin that you practically flew across the room feeling his thumb finally come down to swipe over your clit. A whimper escaped which resulted in Jake bucking his own hips against your leg in response to you. Your hand dug harder into his hair as he slowly started working on your bundle of nerves, sending you into a frenzy. 
With your head resting against the mirror, you found yourself sitting further back, allowing you to spread your legs even further apart for him. The sound of Jake letting out a low groan of approval is what had you slowly starting to approach your edge. The combination of Jake working steadily over you and the attentiveness he was giving to the sweet spot on your neck, had your body flooding with nothing but pure pleasure. 
Jake turned his head, taking his mouth away from your neck and rested his forehead against yours. You started helplessly into his eyes as your free hand gripped hard onto his hair and your other hand came down to latch onto his wrist that was working on you, trying to push him even closer against you as stars began to dance behind your eyes. 
Your jaw hung loosely, and you watched his eyes connect with yours to glance down at his hand, his tongue running over the bottom of his lip as he too furrowed his brows together. 
Jake’s face was bunched up as he focused hard on watching you unravel beneath his touch, pinpointing each spot that made your head spin. 
Your breathing started to become erratic and soon you were gasping for air while your legs slowly started to slide together. “J-Jake I’m gon-fuck. I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, folding yourself forward into him, resting your head against his shoulder. 
Jake moved his hand that wasn’t fixated between your legs to gently push you back and brush your hair out of your face. You looked up at him, your eyes barely able to stay open feeling yourself teetering right over the edge. 
You were just about to crash over it when Jake smirked and pulled his hand away. You instantly open your eyes and tighten your grip around Jake, frantically darting your eyes around his face to try and find a reason as to why he pulled away. 
Jake just stood there with his signature smug expression on his face, his eyes flickering back and forth from your eyes to your face watching as it bunches in confusion. 
“Jake what the fuck!” you groaned, hitting his chest, causing him to move back a bit. His head turned to face away from you, and you saw that playful smile on it but he quickly wiped it off as he turned back towards you. This time his eyes were dark and stern and as he came closer to you, your whole body froze. His presence was now the one you had become so familiar with. Cold, daunting, and able to suck up all the energy in the room as the room grew into a hushed silence. 
Jake’s hand flew away from your shoulder and wrapped around your neck, cutting into the pressure points. You found yourself gasping, feeling all the air empty from your lungs as he pressed you back to the mirror, pinning you there by your throat. He nudged your leg that had come close together as he wiggled himself between them. 
You were gasping for air, but Jake was relentless and only dug his fingers further into your neck. The way he was looking at you made your whole body tingle not only in excitement but also in anticipation as you tried to calculate his next move. 
Your hand flew up to his wrist, trying your hardest to signal to him to let up on the death grip he had on your throat. Jake looked at you sternly, his brows knitted together while the muscles in his jaw flexed as he clenched down. He pushed you further up against the mirror while he slowly came closer to your face. 
“J-Jake, you gasped, starting to feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. 
“Thought I told to stay still and not move,” Jake said, growling into your ear. 
You felt all the color drop from your face knowing you were in deep shit. You wriggled beneath him, trying to find some sort of leeway in his grasp but failed. Your hand gripped harder around his wrist which only made him tighten his hand further. The pressure was now almost unbearable, and it was to the point where you were starting to see stars, sadly this time not from pleasure. You closed your eyes, trying to pull in deep breaths through your nose to steady yourself. 
“Like I said, we’re gonna need to work on those manners,” Jake whispered. You opened your eyes as you felt his hips shift forward, the tip of his cock now catching your clit. You tried to gasp but were unable to from the sheer force Jake had around your neck. 
You looked up at him, knowingly looking desperate as you pleaded with your eyes from him to make a move and finish what he had started between your legs. Jake smirked at you, rutting his hips forward once again, this time firmly pressing his dick to your core. You let out a stifled moan and bit your lip trying your best to contain yourself. 
With his free hand, Jake moved his hand between your legs, grabbing the edge of your panties and pulling them to the side. Jake then reached down and grasped himself firmly, pumping himself slowly while staring longingly in your eyes. His hand that was wrapped around your throat loosened a bit, so you were now able to pull in a deep breath that your lungs were burning for. 
Jake licked his bottom lip and pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek turning his head to the side while he looked you up and down. “You want it?” Jake asked smugly, glancing down between your legs and swiping the tip of his cock over your clit. 
“Fuck!” you gasped feeling your whole body jolt from the contact. Your hand instinctively gripped harder around Jake’s wrist, this time digging your nails into his skin. Jake smirked and continued to run himself between your folds watching you completely lose yourself. 
“Tell me you want it…I want you begging for it,” Jake growled, running his tip down from your clit so it caught your entrance but before he dipped it in, moved it back up to circle your clit. 
“Jake, I need it! Need you to fuck me” you whimpered, bucking your hips up, trying to further chase him. Jake slowly looked up at you, looking completely fucked out under the low lighting of the bathroom. You could see him struggling to maintain his composure, seeing how his own body shuddered while he ran his cock through your wetness. 
“Good, but not good enough…use some manners,” Jake mumbled, adjusting his hand around your throat so his thumb grazed over your bottom lip. You let out a frustrated groan, clamping your eyes shut. 
“Jake just fucking do it!” you snapped back. You instantly felt Jake’s hand come off your throat to deliver a small tap to the side of your face before quickly wrapping his hand around your throat once more. 
“Knock that shit off. I can easily walk away and leave you in here,” Jake spat through gritted teeth. 
“You can put you won't,” you quipped, this time your own evil smirk stretching across your face while you sat up, smiling at him from under your lashes. Jake’s hand tightened around your throat and firmly pushed you back against the mirror, far harsher than before leaving the back of your head to hit the mirror causing you to wince. 
“Fucking watch me,” Jake growled into your ear, rutting his hips up against your center. You threw your head back, your jaw unhinging while a small moan escaped you. 
“See, you think you’re all tough, but your body is failing you little one,” Jake said, slowly dragging the head of his dick through your folds, collecting your wetness over him. You couldn’t even snap back, you knew he was right and as much as you were trying to fight it, you wanted him in every way possible. 
“Now use those manners baby…say please,” Jake whispered into your ear, slowly moving down to brush his lips under the shell of your ear. You bit your lip and turned your head away from him letting out a deep sigh. 
“C’mon now baby, I know you want it. Just need to hear you say it,” Jake whispered against your skin, pressing light kisses against your neck. You couldn’t take it any longer, as badly as you wanted to fight against him and snap back, your body was failing you to make any rational decisions. 
“Jake…please. Please fuck me,” you whispered in a voice that was barely audible. Jake continued to press light kisses to your neck but pulled his mouth away just barely to mumble into your neck. 
“M’sorry what was that?” Jake mumbled and you were able to feel the evil smile that spread across his face against your neck. 
“I said plea-” You were instantly cut off feeling Jake’s cock dip down and slowly slide into you. You gasped and grabbed ahold of his arms feeling your whole body quiver around him. 
“Fuuuck,” you groaned, throwing your head back while you felt him push into the hilt. 
Jake sucked against your neck, his own shaky gasp breaking through him. He pulled himself upward, looking longingly at you while slowly tracing his eyes down your body to watch as he buried himself in you. 
“Mmm, see I knew that dirty mouth of yours could be sweet,” Jake said, pulling himself back and then pumping back into you slowly, feeling your walls wrap around him. “Fuck,” Jake whispered, his mouth parting slightly while he watched himself. 
Jake removed his hand from your throat and fixed both of his hands to rest on your hips, pulling you further towards him. A moan escaped you, feeling him push you further onto him. He slowly started to pump into you, his hands now starting to dig into the muscle of your hips. 
Jake removed one of his hands from your hip to grab the edge of his shirt and tuck it under his chin, so he was able to get a better view as he pumped into you. The sight of him looking completely fucked out as he pumped into you made you clench your walls around him. Jake’s eyes quickly flicked up to your face and you watched as he clenched his jaw. 
“Don’t fucking do that,” Jake growled, smacking the inside of your thigh. 
“Do what?” you asked, batting your lashes while you clenched harder around him. 
“Jesus fuck, that…stop it,” Jake moaned. 
“Mmm, why? Am I making you feel good?” you asked, removing your hand from his arm to push a strand of hair behind his ear, making the edge of his shirt he was holding fall back down between you. You could tell he was caught off guard by your action by the way his face knitted together but then slowly relaxed under your touch. 
“Shut up,” Jake mumbled, slipping his eyes shut while he pumped into you. A soft moan of pleasure escaped him, and he opened his eyes, this time dropping the softer side of him and looking at you with hungry eyes, wanting to devour you from the inside out. 
Jake gripped hard on your hips and delivered a hard thrust, his eyes fixated on your face to see your reaction. Your eyes grew wide, and you clung onto him, feeling the wind being knocked out of your chest by the sheer force he put behind him. 
Jake studied you for a moment and when he saw the reaction he pulled from you, pulled back and gave you another hard thrust. Your hands clawed onto his forearms, feeling the tip of his cock brush against your cervix. 
“Sh-shit Jake,” you moaned, closing your eyes, and letting out a groan  deep from within your chest. Jake stood in front of you watching your struggle to take him fully and the sheer sight of you falling apart around him only urged him on further. 
You felt one of his hands come off your hip to wrap your throat around, making you open your eyes to see him staring at you with heavy lidded eyes. His fingers gripped hard into your neck as he started to thrust into you hard, building a steady pace. 
With each pump, the tip of his cock found the special spot inside of you that made your walls flutter around him and made your head feel like it was floating. You found it hard to believe that the same man you had come to loathe and despise, was now making you completely enamored with him. The person you had come to hate had now given you the stupid mistake of giving a part of himself to you and you knew that this was going to be far deeper than any cut the two of you had made in the past. 
The two of you were gripping and pawing at each other trying to fight not only each other but yourselves as you both slowly started to overcome the distaste you had for each other that slowly turned into nothing but lust-filled pleasure. You could hear the music booming from outside the bathroom and you were hoping it was loud enough to mask the animalistic sounds that were coming from the two of you. 
Jake was no longer taking his time to try and be gentle, with each thrust he would move your whole body backwards, sliding you back on the top of the counter. The hand he had wrapped around your neck was so tight you knew red marks would be left but you found yourself able to ignore the ache as pleasure swept throughout your body. 
Jake slowed his pace down and pulled out of you almost all the way before delivering one final hard thrust into you that made your whole body collapse around him. You rested your head to his chest letting out a shaky groan. As you sat back up, you released one of your hands from his forearms and smacked his chest hard. 
“I fucking hate you,” you mumbled. 
“Mmm, is that so?” Jake said in a voice that was barely audible. You quickly nodded your head against him and felt him tap your hip. “Bend over for me.” 
You nodded your head and watched as Jake took a small step back, sliding out of you making your let out a small whimper. The corner of Jake’s mouth turned up in a small smile hearing the sound of your protest as he pulled away from you. 
As you scooted off the counter, you couldn’t help but ignore the dull ache not only between your legs but deep inside of you from where he was brushing against your cervix. 
You fully stood yourself up, brushing the hair out of your face and trying to regain what you had left of your composure, but it was short lived feeling Jake’s hand on your hip and instantly spinning you around to face the counter. 
Jake stepped up behind you, pressing his erection to your back and placing a hand on the top of your shoulder. His hand rubbed against your shoulder while he pressed your hips into the edge of the counter making you unconsciously start to bend over. 
Jake pulled you back up and pulled you against him, so your back was pressed firmly against his chest. His other hand came to the front of your hip, holding you in place while you felt the tip of his nose nuzzle into the side of your head.
“You okay there baby?” Jake asked, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 
“I’m fine,” you snapped back, clenching your jaw together. You heard Jake hiss and felt his hand leave the front of your hip and come to your backside, pulling up your skirt and delivering a sharp smack to your ass. You jolted forward not expecting the blow and found yourself bending over the counter, catching his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. 
His long hair now stuck to the sides of his neck and face as a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin. The eyes you had recently just discovered as being warm and honey colored were now almost completely black as you watched his face turn stern with frustration. 
You were able to catch sight of your own reflection to see yourself completely disheveled. Your cheeks were flushed and the mascara you were wearing was now smudged under your eyes. Your hair that you had spent a good time doing was now completely ruined as it stuck to the sides of your face and neck. 
Jake’s hand came off of your backside and slid up your back pressing you forward so your chest now rested on top of the cool granite. Once he was satisfied with the way you were bent over in front of him, he slid his hand up further, grabbing a fistful of hair, painfully yanking your neck up. 
“I thought I fucking told you to be nice,” Jake growled, pressing his hips harder against you, making the edge of the counter dig into the front of your hips. You let out a hiss and closed your eyes feeling your whole body start to ache. 
“That’s what I fucking thought,” Jake said, releasing the strong hold on your hair, making your head fall forward. Jake ran his hand slowly down your back, making your whole body tingle in anticipation before he let it rest on your back side, grabbing a handful of it. 
You watched him closely in the mirror, seeing himself completely transfixed on your body, his hands wandering across your skin as he now took the time to familiarize himself with your body. Jake’s hand slid up the back of the leg, pushing up your dress and bunching it at your waist. 
Jake’s hand came back down, looping his fingers under the elastic band of your thong and yanking them down your legs. His hand ran up the back of your thigh making goosebumps appear spread across your skin. You felt him grasp his cock in his hand slowly starting to pump himself, feeling his knuckles swipe across your skin as he did so. 
Jake let go of himself, resting his cock against the inside of your leg before meeting your eyes in the mirror. You stared back at him, finding your breath catching in your chest. The same daunting presence making your skin crawl. Jake raised his eyes back up to catch your own in the reflection of the mirror and you watched as his whole body seemed to soften. 
“This is okay right? Y-you want this?” Jake asked, dipping his head further down to catch your eyes. 
You quickly nodded, not tearing your eyes away from his. “Yes Jake, I promise.”
The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile and you watched his eyes light up in the mirror, the golden flecks catching the light while his whole body seemed to glow. “Good,” you heard him whisper. 
You soon felt his hand come up to grip the side of your hip and you watched him look down, bringing his other hand up to his mouth and spitting on it before bringing it back down to run over the head of his cock. 
Jake looked back up and you watched the corner of his mouth pull in a smirk as you felt the head of his cock slowly start to push its way inside of you. You bit your lip trying your hardest to not make a sound feeling a small sting as you stretched around him. 
“Fuck,” Jake moaned, gripping both of your hips, and pushing himself to the hilt inside of you. Your head fell forward, your jaw hanging loosely while your own sounds of pleasure escaped you. 
Jake steadied himself inside of you, pausing to get himself refamiliarized with your body before reaching to the front of you and grabbing your arm and pinning it behind you. You lifted your head up slightly to watch him and saw his eyes staring back at yours. 
He clenched his jaw and slowly pulled himself out of you and then quickly snapped his hips back, burying himself deep inside of you. You gasped and bawled your hand into a fist behind your back. 
Jake did the same thing, slowly pulling out of you to the point you thought he was going to slip out of you and then thrusting hard into you. You let out another deep groan, furrowing your brows together, while you struggled to maintain eye contact with you. 
As you watched him in the mirror, you could tell he was growing more and more confident with himself seeing how you reacted to him. His grip tightened around the holds he had on your body, and he slammed into you again, this time not giving you time to get used to him pushing deep inside of you as he started to pick up a brutal pace. 
The sounds of pleasure filled the room as the two of you moaned and gasped each other’s names between breath’s. His hands dug into the points of your body, silent reminders for tomorrow of the events that were now taking place. 
Jake’s eyes slowly started to close, and you watched him throw his head back, thrusting hard into you while his neck glistened from the small beads of sweat that clung to him. The sight of him alone was enough to make your walls start to flutter around him. 
He noticed the way your body reacted to him, and his eyes opened, and you were met with his blown out pupils staring back at you. His jaw clenched and he gritted his teeth tightly together, quickening his pace making you unable to form any words, let alone usher a sound. The only sound that you were able to make was a squeaky groan from the back of your throat that left your mouth hanging loosely. 
Jake smiled at you in the mirror and then bent himself over, pressing his chest to his back, halting his movements while his nose brushed against the shell of your ear. “Look at that…finally have you speechless hm?” Jake whispered, followed by a small giggle. 
There was no way you could possibly think of any quick comebacks feeling your brain start to turn to mush. All you could do was grab hold of his wrist, that had your own pinned against your back. 
Jake pressed a kiss to your temple and straightened himself back up. He let out a grunt before gripping your hip and pushing back towards him, starting his pace back up. You tried your best to watch him in the mirror but found yourself unable to focus on anything, finding yourself in a daze while your body started to turn limp. 
You leaned yourself further forward, turning your head to press your cheek to the cool top of the counter, letting it hold your weight as you felt your legs start to shake. 
“That’s it baby, let go…I can feel how close you are,” Jake cooed. 
You knitted your face tight, feeling your climax quickly approaching. You dug your nails tightly into Jake’s wrist and your whole body began to shake. With one final deep thrust, you let out a deep groan before feeling your walls tighten around him and feeling the sweet wave of bliss wash over your body. 
As you were coming undone around him, Jake swept his hands under your stomach, lifting you up so your back was pressed against his now damp shirt. The quick movement had you falling limp into his arm as he held you. Jake rested his cheek against your shoulder and as his own orgasm swept over him, you felt his teeth dig into your flesh, muffling a deep groan from him as he spilled deep inside of you.
The two of you stood there, both of you completely spent while you tried to catch your breath. You could feel the fabric of your clothes clinging to each other’s skin as sweat covered both of your bodies. 
Jake held you tightly against him, pulling in deep shaky breaths, trying to maintain his composure. You heard him take one final deep breath and pull his face off of your shoulder. He looked forward and met your reflection in the mirror and you saw the tops of his cheeks grow red.
He cleared his throat, and released his hold on you, taking a step back as he slowly pulled out of you. He reached back, running a hand through his damp hair, sweeping away the strands that clung to his face. 
Jake bent down, grabbing his pants, and pulling them up while fastening his belt back into place. You did the same, pulling your panties back up and then moving your skirt back down and running a hand over it to smoothen the fabric. 
You turned your body around, resting your back against the counter while you watched him. It was weird now…awkward. You both were usually quick to say something to push each other's buttons to get each other riled up but now it was like the two of you were shy with each other. 
You glanced over at him, seeing him smooth out his own shirt that clung to him and grab the elastic band off of his wrist and pull his hair into a bun. His eyes caught yours and you watched him give you a soft smile. 
You opened your mouth to say something, but he shook his head and stepped forward. The same devilish smirk spread across his face as he closed the distance between you. He placed his hands on the tops of your hips and looked longingly into your eyes. 
“You know for the record…I still hate you,” Jake said, smiling at you. You let out a laugh and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you.
“Good, because I hate you too,” you said with a smile and watched as he closed the distance and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled away and grinned before glancing down to look at the front of your shirt. 
“Sorry about your shirt,” Jake mumbled, flicking his eyes back up to yours. You let out a laugh, throwing your head back. 
“I’m sure you are,” you said, eyeing him. Jake chuckled and released his hold on you. You watched as he turned to the door, grasping the knob in his hand. He was about to turn it when he stopped and turned back around. 
“I’ll see you out there…right?” Jake said, peering over his shoulder. 
“Yes, I guess you will,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to put on your most serious face. 
“Good but remember to stay mean. Still need to hear that filthy little mouth of yours. Can't let anyone suspect ya know?” Jake said, smirking.
“Don’t worry, I’m rather good with my mouth,” you said, smirking at him. 
“Mmm, don’t I know it,” Jake said, giving you a wink before twisting the knob of the door to see himself out. You know this so-called ‘hate’ was just a bullshit excuse for the true feelings the two of you had built. All it took was some digging and a final cut to unleash the true reality of what was hidden just below the surface. 
Tag list:
@iliana-gvf @thunderstomp-and-tequila @bathingin-thelight @darianh07 @gretas-sweat @withlovegvf @dannyshair-blog-blog
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rayassecretlife · 2 years ago
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You can let it go
Pairing: Aged up!19 year old Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omaticaya!reader
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PLEASE READ PART 1 TO UNDERSTAND
Summary: it’s your birthday, and your best friend throws you a surprise party, giving you one of the best birthdays you could have ever asked for. But of course, it had to end with your dad at the door.
Warning(s): Sloww burn, You and Neteyam’s “friendship” being the cutest thing ever, literal idiots in love, Mentions of self h6rm, ab^se, Neteyam admitting his feelings, blood and fighting, mature language
Glossary: Nìtam: Enough | Neto, vrrtep!: Away, Demon!
This is pretty long, fair warning.
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“Y/N! Happy birthday!” Tuk greeted you as you entered the sully’s cave where Lo’ak and Neytiri sat, Neytiri braiding her youngest son’s hair. “Mom, Y/N’s here!”
She looked up with a smile, waving you over to her. “You are 20 now, yes?” You shook your head, sitting next to the woman as she took your hand in hers. “Ah, 19. I forgot” she apologized, clasping her other hand over your knuckles. “Happy birthday, Beautiful girl” your cheeks flush at her words, a smile tugging harshly at your lips.
“Thank you, Neytiri” She places a hand on your cheek before pulling you into a hug, her hand rubbing your back. “Where are Jake and Neteyam?” She laughs, pulling away from you with a raised eyebrow.
“I always know what you’ll say when you come here” Your forehead creased at her words but when Lo’ak started to laugh you instantly understood, kissing your teeth at their joined laughter. “It’s okay, they are out hunting” you nod, pulling Tuk onto your lap. Her hair was also freshly done, new gold pieces attached to some of her braids.
“Your hair is cute, Tuk” she smiled brightly at your compliment, nodding her head and showing you the gold piece.
“Look what mom put in!” She shows you excitedly, Neytiri let out a small laugh as you nodded in agreement, fixing some of the pieces that stuck up. “Mom! You should do Y/N’s hair for her birthday!” You looked over at the woman, watching her eyebrows raise with a closed mouth smile.
“I don’t know… I have no idea what I’d even want” Tuk whines at your response, taking one of your braids between her fingers.
“I have the perfect thing in mind, you just have to sit still” You looked at Lo’ak as she finished his last piece, his shoulders shrugging and you rolled your eyes. He was no help.
“Okay, I trust you” You switched places with Lo’ak, sitting between the mothers legs so she could instantly get to work, starting to undo your previous braids.
“What are you planning to do for your birthday?” She asks and you shrug, fingers fidgeting against one another in your lap. Lo’ak noticed your expression and looked to his mother, watching her eyes soften. “You should not spend it alone, you know”
“I was just going to spend it like every other day. I’m only 19-“
“It’s not any other day, Y/N. It’s been years after you passed your rite of passage, you know what the people are saying” you sigh at her hurtful words, shaking your head.
The sully’s found out about your father only a month after your mother passed, Neytiri practically taking you under her wing for stuff like your rite of passage and finding an Ikran. She truly was like your second mom, and always threatened she’d kill your father if she ever saw a bruise on your body.
Your mother was very close to her since they were young, and your almost sure Neytiri made a promise to her that she’d keep you safe no matter what. She’d almost always offer you to stay with them overnight, hating the fact you when home to that demon of a father. Sometimes she’d even find herself watching you from afar with him, making sure he didn’t lay a hand on you.
You thanked Eywa that Neteyam didn’t tell anyone about you hurting yourself, you knew Neytiri would go crazy if she found out and Jake wouldn’t let you out of his sight. But ever since then, Neteyam didn’t either.
He snuck into your bedroom almost every night to check on you, coming over in the mornings once your father left for his duties, and bringing you to family dinners like nothing had happened. He didn’t forget, but he needed to keep your mind off of it. He was terrified for you safety and you hated that, almost wishing you had never told him in the first place.
Neteyam was going through his own stuff, having to prepare for his ceremony to become Ole’Eyktan. He was still expected to find a mate which he’d been putting off for the longest, arguing with his mother about it almost everyday.
It made you feel horrible, like he had no time to think about his future because he was so worried about you. You loved him, but that’s why you needed him to focus on himself.
You we’re leaving the forest in a few days, and nobody had known except your closest friend, Alyara. You hadn’t even told kiri, afraid she’d tell Neteyam or he’d follow the two of you and hear it for himself. You didn’t want him to get hurt, you needed to get away from the forest, from your father.
And you knew he wouldn’t let you go.
》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ * 。° 。 • ˚《
“Do you like it?” You stare at your hair in the mirror, smile brightening at the sight. You felt so beautiful, the most put together you had been in awhile. Neytiri gifted you an outfit, the prettiest braided top and matching loincloth she made herself for your birthday. You barely recognized yourself, no longer looking tired.
“I love it” You smile as she gives your arm a firm squeeze, fixing your newly done Goddess Braids. “What do you think, Tuk?” You turn to her, noticing her jaw cracked wide open making you laugh. “Tuk?”
“You look like a princess!” She clapped, running to you and her mother to get a better look. “Your hair is so long, I wish mine was that long”
“Your hair is perfect, Tuk” you lifted her into your arms, hers wrapping around your neck to give you a hug. “Thank you” You turned to Neytiri, leaning against her embrace as she hugged you and Tuk.
“Oh! I almost forgot” She pulls away, looking over to Lo’ak. “Could you go to the forest and grab some more of those fruits? You and Y/N” Lo’ak nods, standing up to grab his knife from the table as she turns to you, taking Tuk from your grasp. “Sorry, I’m just so tired from yesterday’s trip”
“No, no. It’s fine, I have nothing else to do anyway” You smile to her, beginning to walk to the entrance of the cave before turning to look for Lo’ak. “Jeez, you take forever”
“Mother, we have an issu-“ You turn around at the sudden voice behind you, eyes instantly catching onto his. “Y/N… what are you doing here?” You frown at his tone, like he didn’t want you there.
“Just stopping by… Um, me and Lo’ak were just leaving” Was something wrong? The look on his face worried you, but his eyes couldn’t leave your figure, scanning your new look like he had been memorizing it into his brain. “Are you okay?”
He clears his throat and nods, his eyes giving Lo’ak and his mother a death stare as they tried their hardest not to laugh behind you. “New look?” Jake sighs at his son, patting his shoulder as he pressed his lips together to hold his laugh in as well. “You look… new” Lo’ak practically slapped his hand against his eyes as he shook his head, watching his brother fail so terribly to compliment you. Even Tuk was embarrassed.
“Happy birthday, kid” Jake pushes past Neteyam, pulling you into a hug and his eyes widened at his oldest son without your knowledge. “You look so old, I remember when you were young and still pulling on our tails” you roll your eyes at him, pushing his away with a laugh.
“I’ll still do that” He chuckles, walking over to Tuk and pulling her up into his arms. “Are you ready to go, Lo’ak?” He nods, walking past you to leave the cave but not forgetting to give his brother a shake of his head. You look around at the family before turning to leave, eyes catching neteyam’s once again. “I’ll be back”
“Be safe” He tells you, now serious instead of embarrassed. You nodded your head, walking past the boy and following Lo’ak to your Ikran.
》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ * 。° 。 • ˚《
“Where is that damn fruit! I feel like we’ve been out here forever!” You groan, pushing the tall plants out of your way. You had been looking for hours on end, Lo’ak not finding anything except his mothers favorite flowers.
“I give up” he huffed, sitting down on the fallen tree’s log. You didn’t want to give up, but you were getting tired of looking. Neytiri wouldn’t be too mad, right? “Just stop” You groaned.
“It’s a fucking berry! How hard can it be to find?!” You threw a small rock across the area, hitting a tree not too far from the two of you. “Jake should have came”
“Not Neteyam?” You glare at his words, watching his lips turn to a smirk. You hated when he did that, tried to fluster you about his brother. His brother that you so knowingly had a crush on.
“One sully brother is enough” You sit next to him, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh. “He was acting weird, right? Before we left?” The brother tensed at your question but quickly began to laugh, shaking his head at you. “What?”
“Weird? Jesus, you two are so blind” Your forehead creases at his words, tilting your head to the side. “Can you be honest with me?” The question scared you a bit, the look on his face also giving you some sense of unsureness. “Why are you pushing your feelings for my brother away”
“What? Lo’ak-“
“We all see it, Y/N. Hell, even my mother is rooting for you” You sigh and shake your head, setting your bow down onto the grass. “So you admit it?”
“I don’t know what to admit, Lo’ak” you look over at him, taking a deep breath as you felt your heart begin to race. Lo’ak knew he got to you, he knew you’d tell him the truth. “There’s nothing going on between us”
“It’s my Skxawng of a brother, isn’t it?” He smacked his teeth making you laugh, pushing your hair out of your face to look at him. “He’s never messed anything up, Y/N. The only thing that’s ever made him nervous, was you” Oh Eywa, how tired you’d been of going around this circle.
“I wish it was that easy” He shakes his head at your words, getting off the log to stand up in front of you. “Lo-“
“It is that easy! You guys are too scared to admit it to each other and that’s what’s hurting you” You hated that fact he was right, how badly you wanted to throw your arms around Neteyam everytime you saw him, or how you just wanted to hear his voice. “I see him sneaking out every night, Y/N. I know he goes to see you”
“That’s not what you think-“
“It isn’t about what I think, it’s about you two needing to admit to each other before my father gives him an assigned mate” you furrow your eyebrows, standing up to meet him. “My brother will be 20 very soon. The clan can’t wait for him to find a mate”
“Mating? Even if Neteyam liked me, mating is different” Lo’ak groaned, grabbing your hands to pull you toward him. “I’ve seen the way ghakire looks at him, Lo. He should be with someone who looks at him like that”
“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” Your heart beats fast against your chest, eyes softening at the brother in front of you. “Y/N, you cannot be so blind”
Before you could reply, he placed his fingers against his neck, nodding after only a few seconds. You knew that was his mother, probably telling him he needed to be back for dinner.
“Your mother?” He nods, not saying another word as he follows you to your Ikran.
》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ * 。° 。 • ˚《
“You can drop me off here” Lo’ak spoke and your forehead creased at his words, landing your Ikran right in the middle of high camp. It was awfully dark, which was weird because it was always lit up by some sort of light.
“Easy girl” you ran your hand along your Ikran’s back, sliding off of her and disconnecting your queues. “Why the hell is it so dark?” You turned to Lo’ak, but he wasn’t there. Your eyes widened as you looked around rapidly, yelling for Lo’ak as lowly as you could to not wake the people.
But he was nowhere to be found. Now your body was clinging to your Ikran, looking around frantically as you heard the small noises come from all around you. Just as you were about to get onto her, the caves were lit up in an instant.
“Surprise!” The whole clan came into few once the torches had lit, and you could see everyone so clearly, eyes landing on Lo’ak as he stood slightly in front of you with his family. That big sully smile made you laugh, covering your face as the clan began to chant.
“Happy birthday, Sweet girl” Neytiri hugged you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You couldn’t help but smile big, watching Tuk run to you with her arms wipe open.
“Happy birthday, Y/N!” She hugged you tightly as you lifted her into your arms, spinning her around and making her laugh. “I got the perfect gift for you!” She handed you a small k necklace, your favorite colors and rocks on it with your names engraved into one of them.
“Aw, Tuk” You smile, kissing her cheek before putting her down and kneeling to her, handing it to her. “Wanna put it on me?” She giggled and nodded, pushing your hair out of the way so she could clip it.
You were too busy laughing with Tuk to realize the boy in front of you, but his eyes were only on you. From your beautiful long hair, all the way down to your feet, his eyes couldn’t leave you. It felt like he was holding his breath waiting for you to look at him, waiting for your vibrant green eyes to shine in the moonlight above you.
“You guys didn’t have to do this” you hug the family, only to realize someone was missing. “Where’s Nete?” Neytiri’s heart fluttered at the nickname, looking up at Jake with a smile.
“He is the one who planned everything, we just helped” Jake informs you, laying his hand on your shoulder with a smile as Neytiri leaned against him, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. “He’s also behind you”
You turn, eyes finally meeting his. You didn’t know why, but this moment, this feeling, it was so much. The way he looked at you, the way you looked at him—god…it felt like you lost your breath.
“Neteyam” His ears perk at your soft voice, walking toward him with a smile. “You did this?” He looked down at you with the most loving look he could ever give, a smile tugging at his lips.
You looked so beautiful. With your new hairstyle, and the new clothing that fit you so well, you were almost irresistible. As if you weren’t beautiful enough before, you’d have men dropping at your feet by now, and Neteyam would be the first.
“Happy birthday, Y/N” While you two stared at each other, his family couldn’t keep it together behind you, Lo’ak making hand motions to his brother to kiss you, or at least say something. His father wide eyed him, kiri covering her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh.
You pulled the boy into a tight hug, arms wrapping around his neck. His tail swayed like a puppy’s and his arms snaked their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Thank you, Nete”
You inhaled his forest scent, only this time it was different then before. His scent made your heart begin to beat faster, and your stomach churned at the feeling. It scared you, it scared you because you knew this feeling.
Mate.
You cleared your throat, pulling away from the boy with a smile but you could tell he felt it too because he hesitated to let you go, hands still holding your arm. You needed to distance yourself before you made a horrible choice, your hormones almost getting the best of you before you heard Jake speak.
“Let’s get this party started!” The clan cheered and you sigh in relief, Neteyam’s hand retracting from your arm as the rest of his family came to hug you. “So, 19, huh? I think that calls for a drink” you laugh as he hands you a small cup, reassuring you that you didn’t have to drink it but you did—you wanted to.
“Eywa, where did the years go, child!” Neytiri jokes and you laugh, taking her hand to go dance with the other members of the clan, the boys staying behind with Tuk.
“Son?” Jake places a hand on Neteyam’s shoulder, pulling his gaze from you. “It’s happening, isn’t it?”
Neteyam looks down at his feet, shaking his head as Lo’ak lays a hand against his back. When it came to mating, after a certain amount of time you have attraction to someone, it becomes unbearable and you have to mate. Neteyam and you and spent your whole lives loving each other in the dark, and this would only get harder to avoid.
As he watched you dance the night away with his mother, he couldn’t help but wonder if that could’ve been him by your side, showing you off to the clan as his own—as their future Tsahìk.
“Enjoy the party, worry about this later”
》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ * 。° 。 • ˚《
“I will be right back” You nod at Neytiri, continuing to dance by yourself in the crowd of people. This had to of been one of the best nights of your life, and you felt the best you had ever felt.
The music around you started to get slow and you smiled at Neytiri’s voice, noticing she had been the one singing with Ninat and Mo’at. Pairs started to group around you and you nod at your friend, watching her smile.
Just as you were about to leave, fingers wrap around your wrist gently, your head turning to find the oldest sully boy in front of you, his other hand grasping your other in his hand as well.
“May I?” You blush at his tone and nod your head, letting him lead you through the crowd to an open area to follow their lead. His hands were gentle against your waist, fingertips barely firm again your skin. “Are you having fun, birthday girl?”
Your hands rest against the back of his neck, moving your body to match his along with the others around you. “Thanks to you” You looked at him through lidded eyes, thumb massaging the skin against his neck. You felt the eyes on you, but you couldn’t care, you could only look at the boy in front of you, staring down at you like you were the only girl in the world.
“You look so beautiful” The words had slipped from his mouth before he could catch them, and you watched his eyes slightly widen once he realized what he said. It made your cheeks flush, looking down to hide your smile. I made her blush, oh Eywa! I made her blush! The boy thought, ears perking while his own cheeks grew hot at the thought.
You finally looked back up at the boy, fingers roaming through his long braids. You felt like you could cry, feeling terrible that he didn’t know you’d be leaving soon. You couldn’t do anything but stare at him, fighting the urge to kiss him right then and there. You couldn’t. If you did, it would hurt him so much more when he finds out your leaving.
17 years of being best friends, 10 years of loving each other, and only one more day to admit it. Everything was so bitter sweet…and you couldn’t tear your gaze from his, trying to keep the smile on your face to shield your sadness from him. “Y/N, I…” he wanted to hesitate his words, but he couldn’t bare to look at how some of the men looked at you, like you weren’t his. But you’ve always been his, you’ve always been Neteyam’s girl. “I see you”
“Nete…” you spoke lowly, voice barely above a whisper as you realized he was leaning down to your face, one of his hands reaching up to cup your small cheek in his palm. Stop it, Y/N. You’ll only hurt him! So many thoughts raced through your head in that moment, but none of them could stop you from slowly giving into the boy, breath shaky as you tilted your head up to meet his.
Just as your lips brushed one another’s, a loud voice only made you pull away, the sound of glass shattering onto the floor causing everyone to gasp and do the same.
“Father?” Your hands fell from Neteyam’s neck, slowly walking toward your obviously drunk and violent father as he continued to yell, staring at you with the meanest look he could’ve ever given.
“So this is where you’ve been?!” You cower to his voice, feeling Tuk cling to your leg as you apologized, voice shaky with fear and embarrassment. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Father I-“
“And what do I find? My slut of a daughter with some boy! What have I told you about disobeying my orders!” You tried to explain but not before his hand came clashing against your cheek, the sting making your eyes water.
“Nìtam!” Neytiri yells, standing in front of you to block you from your father. “Neto, vrrtep!” Your father laughs at her hisses, her bow pulled straight at his face.
“I’m not afraid of you, just how I wasn’t afraid of Ophijah” Your ears perked as your mothers name left his mouth, about to speak up but Jake beat you to it.
“Lasaji, Turn back now, and it won’t get ugly” He stands in front of Neytiri, his knife between his palm. You protest but he shushed you, Lo’ak’s hand grabbing your arm to stop you from moving toward them. “Touch her, and I won’t hesitate to kill you”
“She is my daughter!”
“Really? Because it seems to me I’ve been more of a father to her then you’ve ever been!” You cried at Jake’s words, Lo’ak pulling your head into his chest. You didn’t want anyone to fight, you didn’t want anyone to get hurt. “Where were you when she completed her rite of passage? Do you even know the name of her Ikran? Or that today is her fucking birthday!”
“You don’t know shit, Sully. She’s a fucking disappointment! If her mother was here, she would’ve agreed!” You couldn’t take it anymore. The whole clan was staring at you, and your tears wouldn’t stop running down your cheeks. Lo’ak tried his best to comfort you, but you pushed past him and ran.
But you didn’t make it far, the piercing grip on your hair made you cry, falling back with one pull. It didn’t last long as before you could react, you found Jake ontop of your father, punching over and over while the warriors tried to pull him off.
“Jake, please!” You beg, watching the blood from your fathers mouth splatter onto the stone floor, a sight so brutal you couldn’t bare to see it. “Get off of him!” The clan pulled him off, his bloody knuckles coming into view.
“Y/N-“
“Stop, please, just stop” you pushed Neteyam away from you, standing to your feet as you held your hand over your mouth, concealing your sobs. Your father was barely breathing, laid on the ground with blood smeared across his face.
“Come on, let’s go inside-“ you shook your head at the boy, wiping your tear stained cheeks as you looked over to Jake, his chest rising high with his racing heartbeat.
You gave him one last look before pulling your hand from Neteyam, running away from the clan as fast as you could to get to your Ikran, ignoring the calls behind you. You hopped onto your Ikran and took off, leaving just as Neteyam made it to you. It was so embarrassing, you could barely see through your tears, and that’s when you decided.
You had to leave. You had to get away from the forest.
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Part 3!!!! I wanted to make this a mini series, next part should be out tomorrow or Monday 💙
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hotgirlmav · 2 years ago
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Hands of Steel — Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader
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Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female!Reader
Description: Hangman is rumored to give the best massages in town. When Rooster, your boyfriend, finds out that you got one, he contemplates murder.
Warnings: Alluded smut, explicit language, orgasm mention, alcohol, cocky Hangman, evil Rooster, grill-master Maverick.
Word Count: 3,073.
18+ please! My first fic, don't throw tomatoes at me. 🤭
Rooster never considered himself to be a jealous person. Funnily enough, he found that kind of behavior to be childish and immature. Regardless of how many times anyone ever tried, he never found himself in a position of being envious of something someone else had. He had a job that he loved, a wonderful group of friends, a townhouse he never wanted to leave, and he had you. He had everything he believed he could ever want.
That night in particular, you and Rooster were invited to a barbecue at Payback’s house to properly celebrate the events that took place a month prior.
Rooster was always the life of a party, and it didn’t take a genius to know that. If there was a song on that he liked, he was going to dance. If there was a grill, he was going to flip some shit on it. If shots were going to be taken, he’d be the first to get them down his throat. If there was a pool, he’d be the first one to jump in. As a matter of fact, that was how you and Rooster met. He couldn’t even remember the song he was dancing to, but he certainly remembered the need to look in the direction where he heard the most endearing laugh come from another person. You didn’t know if it was him or the alcohol, but the second you two locked eyes, you were no longer laughing. You wanted him, and from that moment on, he needed you. He needed to have his hands on you.
As of current, you were sitting on the patio chair that Payback so tastefully had out, a wide grin on your face as you chatted with two of the other women there. It was your understanding that one of them was seeing Hangman and the other was seeing Maverick, so you three began to bond over the constant heart attacks you had when it came to your borderline psychotic men.
“My shoulders are killing me. I don’t even know what I did.” You huffed promptly after taking a small sip of your piña colada, your left hand finding its way to your right shoulder before you began to gently stroke it.
“Where’s Rooster? Would he massage your shoulders if you asked, or would that start something you can’t finish?” One of the women asked, a playful smirk on her face as she took a sip of her mimosa.
Just the sound of the words made you giggle, giving the woman a small shrug as you glanced back at your boyfriend. Rooster was chatting with Maverick as he took a swig from his beer bottle, sunglasses planted on his face. His denim shorts hung low on his hips despite being a perfect fit, and your mouth practically watered at the sight of his muscular back, his missing shirt on your body to cover up your bikini top. You knew you weren’t getting in the water, but you wanted to give the illusion that you would, so Rooster told you to just wear his shirt over your bathing suit. He’d have no problem removing it when you two got home.
You watched as he messily threw the drink back and smiled to yourself excitedly due to the fact that you just couldn’t wait to tease him about his mustache being gross after lightly tasting the beer on it during a kiss. God, you loved your boyfriend. If you weren’t wrapped up in the middle of a conversation, you would have gone over there, grabbed him, and just—
“God, Jake gives such good massages. I’d fucking pay someone to punch my back if it meant he’d massage it.” The other woman snorted without any hint of irony as she ripped you from your thoughts, hiding the smile on her face once she sipped her margarita. By the way her facial expression changed, it was as if a lightbulb went off over her head.
“Jake, come here!” She softly chirped as she turned back, looking at the shirtless man over her shoulder. Hangman looked over the second he heard his name being called, his normal arrogant smirk plastered across his face as he walked over.
“Ladies.” He lowly greeted the two as he pushed his sunglasses up into his blonde hair, the sun shining on his face and body in the most annoyingly intoxicating way.
“I was just telling Rooster’s girlfriend that you give the best massages. Can you rub her shoulders really quick? She said her shoulders hurt.” The woman chirped almost enthusiastically, pure innocence behind her actions as the words came out. Almost catching a glimpse of the horror on your face, she turned to you. “If that’s okay with you?”
Was that okay with you? Fuck yeah that was okay with you. A massage is a massage. Your shoulders were hurting and you were being really brave about it, but what about Bradley? You knew he loved Jake as a friend, but as a fellow pilot, he wanted to kill him. Bradley and Jake were best frenemies, so despite his non-jealous nature, you still worried about how he’d react to such a thing. Before you could even process it, the pressure of their stares on you made you nod and smile mindlessly. “Yeah, sure!“
Everything went by so quickly. Hangman couldn’t help but flash his pearly whites in a wide grin and clapped his hands, rubbing them together as he walked over. You couldn’t help but be a bit excited as you sat up, seeing as your shoulders really were hurting. Both you and Hangman knew it was just a quick massage, but do you know who didn’t know that?
The 6’1 pilot who had the most bewildered, menacing look on his face as he looked over just a second later.
Hangman was a naval aviator, of course he knew how to work his hands. The number of buttons he had to memorize in the academy was almost petrifying, so the techniques to use while massaging a woman’s shoulders were absolute cake in regards to what his brain could retain.
You constantly told Rooster that he was the best at what he did, which you still firmly believed, but you were in awe. The circles you felt his thumbs rub into your muscles as his long fingers pressed right where the pressure needed to be was numbing. Your eyes closed before they could roll to the back of your head, your mouth almost falling agape in awe. You closed it the second you felt it open due to the fact that you not only didn’t want to disrespect your boyfriend, but your gracious friend who let you use Hangman’s sacred hands to begin with.
No matter what you ever religiously believed in, you were completely sure of one thing.
If there was a God, pieces of him resided in Jake Seresin’s fingers.
After catching a glimpse of your reaction, the two girls giggled at you as Hangman chuckled. What he joked about after doing so was your and his biggest mistake. “What, Rooster is as bad at this as he is at flying?“
Hearing his name, Rooster looked around with furrowed brows as Maverick continued to speak, his eyes instinctively drawn to you. He felt his face pale as he quickly pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, pure fury radiating through his toned body as he fully realized what was going on.
This feeling was beyond jealousy, beyond rage— whatever it was, it was dark. It was something he had never experienced before, at least not to that degree. It was debilitating, mind-crushing, immobilizing; it was possessiveness. In his eyes, you were no longer another human being with the ability to form your own thoughts and actions. You were all his. You belonged to him, you were owned by him. Any bit of logic and reasoning escaped his mind while he shamelessly glared at the sight just a few yards away from him. His jaw was firmly clenched as his grip on his beer bottle nearly shattered the glass in his hand. The mere presence of another man's hands on you sent shivers down his spine, but Hangman? Hangman having his hands on the shoulders Rooster routinely rubbed, kissed, and had his arms around? That was enough for him. He saw red when he realized the Hangman had his hands on something/someone that belonged to him.
Seeing the fact that you were wearing his shirt pissed him off even further. Proof of having a boyfriend, proof of it being him, and another man still had the nerve to touch you? At that point, Maverick might as well have been speaking a foreign language. Rooster was both fantasizing about slamming Hangman’s face into the concrete and trying to work through what he wanted to do to you. The look of relief on your face as you casually spoke to the girls made him want to kill Jake then and there, seeing as his hands were still working on your shoulders as if his life depended on it.
“Rooster, are you alright?” Maverick asked in confusion as he noticed the fact that the man was about to implode before him, turning his head to look at whatever Bradley had his cold stare set upon. Once he caught a glimpse of it, Maverick couldn’t help but chuckle. Seeing as he was quite a bit older than the rest of them, he knew that game better than anyone else. He was also levelheaded enough to know that there was absolutely nothing going on between you and Hangman, and that Rooster was about to catch a homicide charge over absolutely nothing.
“Relax, Bradley, come on. Calm down, I’m sure it’s just–“ Maverick calmly tried to explain before Rooster decided that anything he said could go to hell, setting his beer down and making his way over.
“Hey, Roos.” Maverick’s girl kindly greeted, a smile on her face as she only sipped her drink. Rooster couldn’t even see straight. He gave her the tightest-lipped grin and nodded his hand once as a greeting. He wanted to slaughter everyone there, but he didn’t want to be rude to someone who didn’t deserve it.
The second you heard his name, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. You’d look over your shoulder, but you were too scared that you’d turn to stone under his stare. He also looked really good, and you were just scared you’d moan at the sight of him.
“Bradshaw, good to see you. No need to thank me for helping your girlfriend, by the way, she was really tense. If you ever need tips, you know where I am.” Hangman teased with playful venom in his voice, the charming smirk on his face almost settling completely once he realized Rooster wasn’t even slightly amused. In fact, Rooster looked like he was ready to knock that smirk clean off of his face. Hangman only chuckled to himself and shook his head as he walked off to his own girlfriend, causing Rooster’s glare to shift down to you.
You looked back once you saw Hangman go to the woman and finally locked eyes with your boyfriend, your knees pressing together as you gave him a soft smile to ease his nerves. That glare of his was petrifying, horrifying, terrifying— you wouldn’t wish for anyone to be under it. Weirdly enough, though, you didn’t want to look away. You didn’t want him to look away. You wanted to stay there, to stay under it; you wanted those eyes on you forever, and the only thing you wanted more than that was his hands in places you couldn’t even speak of without becoming shy.
“Hey, Bradley.” You softly greeted your boyfriend, trying to match your own tone with the smile on your face. Rooster always told you how much he loved your voice, he always made a point of telling you that your voice was enough to bring him out of a coma. At that moment, though, his expression didn’t change. You didn’t know if that scared or excited you.
“Come. I need to talk to you.” Rooster firmly demanded in a tone he usually used in the most dire conversations, holding his large hand out for you. Your heart sped up at the sight of it, yet softened a bit at the realization that he wasn’t too mad to hold your hand. You quietly and politely excused yourself and set your drink down, taking his hand in yours to stand up. The grip he had on your hand caught you off guard, and the way he began to practically drag you to the house made you gasp, but it made you feel a warmth in the pit of your stomach. If he didn’t pounce on you, you’d have to pounce on him. He took you into Payback’s house through the sliding glass door and upstairs, causing you to furrow your eyebrows and follow.
“Are we even allowed up here?” You asked as you feared violating the rules of the house, completely disregarding the fact that your boyfriend basically had a bloodlust.
“I don’t fucking care.” Rooster practically spat out as he led you through the hallway once you got upstairs, causing your legs to nearly give out. Such behavior on paper would make you scrunch your face in disgust, but seeing him act that way right in front of you? You were mesmerized.
He led you into what he knew to be the guest bedroom and borderline slammed the door shut, pinning your back against it harshly as he swiftly turned the lock. Once he heard it click, Bradley wrapped his fingers around your neck, gripping the sides of it firmly as your back arched out of instinct.
“Bradley, what the fuck–“ You breathlessly moaned out in shock, your eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion as you stared up at him with the most bewildered eyes. Bradley was staring down at you with the most lustful look you’ve ever seen in his hazel eyes, not even saying a word before he slammed his lips down onto yours.
There was that taste of beer.
Your legs felt like jelly as your hands lifted from where they were pressed against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck in an instant. You didn’t even know what to do with yourself, you didn’t know where to put your hands. You felt his tongue slip into your mouth without a warning as his free hand slipped underneath his shirt on your body, causing you to nearly cry out into his mouth. Your hand traveled down to the waistband of his shorts before he harshly pulled away, glaring down at you.
“Are you fucking CRAZY?” He called out, as he knew no one else was in the house to hear him. You had never been so confused in your life. Your eyebrows furrowed as the sudden lack of contact pissed you clean off, causing your new glare to match his. “Are YOU fucking crazy? What is wrong with you, Bradley?” You scoffed in confusion.
“Look at you, look at how quickly your back arched for me, look at how your mouth opened for me. You’ll just fucking take the first hands that’ll touch you, won’t you?” Bradley snapped through his teeth, glaring down at you. “Even if they’re not as good as mine, even if they can’t please you like mine can. Your shoulders hurt so fucking badly to where you’d take a massage from JAKE?” He almost shouted at you.
You were absolutely blown away as you heard his words. Your lips were parted in confusion, your eyebrows were furrowed, and you were looking around to find who he was talking to, because it certainly wasn’t you.
“Are you fucking INSANE?” You finally yelled at him, causing his reaction to soften a bit. Okay, maybe he was crazy.
You stomped over to the window and essentially tore the curtain open, pointing down in almost an instant. Rooster tried to hold his composure as he stomped over with just as much attitude, trying not to admit defeat. Once he saw what you were looking at, his face dropped slowly and he flushed with embarrassment.
Hangman was sitting in the chair that was formerly occupied by his girlfriend, who had found herself a new seat on his thighs. His arm was loosely around her waist as she had one of her arms around his shoulders, her free hand cupping his cheek. The two were embraced in what was almost an inappropriate kiss, this being proven by the fact that Rooster saw a flash of Hangman’s tongue that quickly took shelter in his girlfriend’s mouth. Rooster’s eyes flickered over to where Maverick’s girl was sitting, but her seat was also vacant. Once he noticed that she was standing where he formerly was, he couldn’t help but sigh lowly. Maverick had his arm around the girl's waist, his aviators on her face as he flipped the burgers on the grill with his other hand.
Rooster was embarrassed by the fact that those men would never freak out the way he did over their girlfriends. They were mature, and now— he felt like he wasn’t.
“See? No one cares but you. They know that I’m with you, THEY are all with other people. I know I’m with you. You know I’m with you. God, Bradley, you are so—“ You began to snap sharply at him, being cut off the second time by a pair of muscular arms snaking around your waist, the familiar tickle from his mustache sending a shiver up your spine. His lips were pressed against yours in a less angry, yet hungrier way.
You refused to pull away. After being berated at that party, you deserved something stronger than a piña colada to repair the tiny panic attack you had a few minutes prior. You needed Maverick to hurry the fuck up with the burgers, and you needed at least one orgasm before you went back down.
Bradley pulled away from your kiss after he backed you up, watching you gasp and fall back onto the bed. “I’m sure we can spare twenty minutes.” He stated, the playful grin that you loved so much appearing on his face.
“Why don’t I show you how much better my hands can make you feel, hm?”
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lcvenderblues · 3 years ago
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six stops 🌘
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It only takes six stops on the bus for Jake to become completely smitten with you (and then a seventh for him to notice).
pairing: jake lockley x gn!reader
warnings/tags: mild language, brief/vague description of mild harassment on public transportation (not main pairing), meet-cute, forced proximity, fluff, mutual pining, strangers to lovers (sort of), jake has resting bitch face, soft!jake lockley supremacy, no beta we die like harrow, mdni/18+ blanket rule!!!
wc: 3.5k
a/n: so i never thought i'd write a jake fic before finishing the follow up to indulgences, but one comment from @redahlia-writes about jake on public transport and this just sort of... spat itself out lol. i am a firm advocate for soft!jake, so please enjoy this silly little bus meet-cute-ish.
p.s. i've tried my hand at gn!reader, i apologize if it slips into any gendered language or depictions at any point!
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The first time Jake sees you, it's because you have nowhere else to sit.
It's morning. He's been up all night. He's seen a lot of things, done a lot of things. He's exhausted. He's surly because he doesn't have his car, and he has to sit on this stupid, crammed, too-hot bus. He's ready to go home.
He can feel you eyeing the seat next to him warily, eyeing him warily— after all, the entire bus is packed like a can of sardines, so everyone else has left that seat open for a reason, and Jake thinks it may have something to do with his face. From what he understands, his usual expression isn't the most approachable or welcoming; which, honestly, has been pretty helpful. People usually don't bother him that way. And that's the way he likes it. 
You, however, don't really get much of a choice in the matter. There isn't even a bit of room anywhere else— he's watched you check, vigorously— so you resign yourself to it, coming towards him somehow hesitant yet hurried at the same time, trying to get a seat before the bus starts moving again and you get hurled into the sea of seats and people. 
He watches you sit down at the very edge, putting as much space as you possibly can between the two of you without completely falling off your seat. You glance up at him nervously, meeting his eyes, and when he watches you practically freeze under his gaze, he finds himself feeling three things at once.
First, part of him wants to laugh. He can't help but find it funny that the same body that has people jostling it around, practically pushing it over when Steven inhabits it, receives this kind of reaction when he fronts, simply by the way he holds himself, moves his muscles. 
Second, he feels a mix of relief and satisfaction. He's tired, and he hadn't counted on having to sit next to anyone. At the very least, he knows he won't have to worry about you planning on bothering him. He's not sure he'd have the energy, or the patience to deal with that.
Lastly, he feels... guilt. You've done nothing to him. You're just there for a ride from one place to another, same as him. And you look just as thrilled at the prospect of sitting next to him as he is. He thinks of what it'd be like if you caught the bus any other day, with Steven or Marc on it, instead. Steven would probably be thrilled to sit next to you, as opposed to someone else who might stick their bony elbows in his sides or pile their belongings on his side of the seat— or, he'd just be sleeping. Marc would keep to himself, but he'd still be polite and lean towards the other side, give you some extra room. The very least Jake can do is try not to make you fear for your life for your entire morning commute.
So, he smiles at you. At least, he tries to.
He has a feeling it comes out awkward and uncomfortable— He knows how to do a sinister grin, or something smug and charming (that one usually works well on the ladies), but he doesn't feel like either of those would help him much, here. He's not used to politely smiling at strangers on public transport. But, he tries, for you.
Whatever his face does, it works, somewhat. You return the smile, very quick, still nervous, and equally awkward, before you're hurriedly looking away, but you've scooted up the seat so you're not about fly off if the bus makes a sharp corner. And he watches some of the tension leave your body as you relax against the backrest a little.
He turns away, leans his head back, and closes his eyes. There. He's done his dues, and is free to ignore you for the rest of the trip, guiltlessly.
And he does, for a good several minutes, until the bus turns a sharp corner and lurches you right into him, despite the generous amount of space in between the both of you.
There's a chorus of groans and grumbling from the other passengers, who, by all accounts, fared a lot worse. But you had the singular luck of smashing into him, who nobody else dared sit next to; whose eyes you could barely meet, just a few minutes ago. And now, you're scrambling off of him, looking up at him, absolutely mortified.
"I'm so sorry!" You blurt, in spite of your total lack of control over the bus's movements, and pause for a moment before repeating yourself about a thousand times over. The tension is back with a vengeance; Your mouth is a fountain of apologies and your body is a stiff, rigid line bracing itself for his response, though it's almost like you're determined not to let him, as he can barely get a word in.
Any irritation he'd felt wasn't directed at you to begin with— though, he had several choice words for the driver— but even if it had been, he's sure it would have all melted away the moment he saw the look on your face, heard your profuse apologies. Something strange tugs at his chest, and he's suddenly struck with the notion that, he doesn't actually want you to be afraid of him.
"—Hey, it's alright." It takes a bit before you finally let him butt in to speak; and when he does, you're still looking at him nervously. "Not your fault, cariño."
The pet name slips out on accident; just some subconscious effort to get that look off your face and you to stop apologizing before you turn blue. But he's not anticipating the way your eyes go a little wide, and your shoulders fall slightly, and your whole body seems to draw downwards, like you've melted a little bit.
You avert your eyes again— shy, this time. Not scared.
Oh.
He's usually a bit smoother with this kind of thing; and it's usually intentional. Still, he feels an odd warmth thinking about the fact that, in spite of the very rocky beginning, he managed to fluster you without even trying; and the way that, though you won't look at him, you still sit a little closer than before.
You meet his eyes once more during your trip— well, he catches you staring. You look back at your lap again just as quickly, and nervously start to pick at a thread on your pants. But your back is relaxed, not rigid.
Your stop comes not long after. You get back up to leave, and share another quick, awkward smile, before you're back down the aisle and out the door. Jake sits alone, again, for the rest of the way home— and finds he didn't really mind sharing the bench. Not with you.
***
The second time Jake sees you, you're sitting elsewhere.
The bus is less full, this time. It'd be odd to come up and sit next to a stranger when there's a bunch of other seats available. But he can't deny there's a tiny twinge of disappointment in his chest.
You're a few rows ahead, you probably didn't even see him. Or so he reasons with himself; Because he'd like to think that if you had, you'd have given him another awkward smile before taking your seat. Maybe a seat a little closer to him, than where you're currently sitting.
The man that approaches you must not have gotten the memo, though, about sitting next to strangers when there's other available seats, because Jake watches him plop down on the one right next to you, and begin to chat you up. He can't hear the conversation, from here, but he doesn't need to— he can see the way your body goes rigid, the tense line of your neck, the way you're shuffling closer and closer to the window, further and further away from him.
As soon as the bus stops moving, he doesn't need to think twice before he's getting up, and making his way over to your bench, with his best "I will kill you" face.
You see him first— and draw the man's attention to Jake and his murderous expression. Something that could only be called sheer terror fills his face, and he seems frozen in place. For a moment, Jake worries you might react the same way, thinking you're out of the frying pan and into the fire; that you'll look at him with that terrified look like you did when you first approached his seat that other day.
But you're looking up at Jake like he's your very own guardian angel, with those same eyes you gave him when he called you cariño last time. Nobody's ever looked at him like that before, and he thinks he could get used to it.
Jake could yank the man out of his seat, curse him out in Spanish. Lord knows, he wants to. But he doesn't want to make an unnecessary scene or invoke the ire of the bus driver, not in front of you. He settles for giving the man a very pointed look and a gesture at his seat, which seems to shake him out of his paralysis. The man glances between him, and you, and back to him, and promptly takes off, practically running.
Jake takes his place beside you, then, trying to keep a respectful distance, and to look a little less homicidal. He still sits close; but you don't seem to mind.
You're still looking at him like that, and he thinks he might get shy and start blushing, if you keep it up.
"Thank you," you say, sincerely. You offer your name, and your hand.
He takes both. Your skin is soft against his, and gives him that peculiar warm feeling in his chest again, as he holds your hand carefully in his own, shaking it once. "Jake," he murmurs. "Es de nada."
The smile you give him when you let go is warm this time, not awkward. He's pretty sure the one he returns is still a little more of the latter, but it's okay. You don't mind that, either.
You continue on in silence for a few more minutes, and he steals glances at you; afraid you might catch him staring this time. You do, once— but you just give him another smile and look away again.
He thinks of nothing more for the rest of the trip, rolling the syllables of your name over his mind, the way you looked up at him burned onto the back of his eyelids.
***
The third time Jake sees you, it's late, and the bus is empty, save for the both of you. You come and sit right next to him, this time without hesitation.
This time, you look exhausted— practically asleep on your feet. But you perk up little— a lot— when you see him, and you smile, and even greet him properly. It makes the warm feeling flare up in his chest once more.
"Hi," you say softly, plopping down beside him. You don't bother to keep a 'respectful' distance.
"Hi," he says back.
A pause. "It's sure packed in here."
This is... new. You're making conversation. He supposes, on an empty bus, you wouldn't have picked the seat right next to him just to sit in silence the whole way. Once his brain catches up to your joke, he gives an amused little exhale. "Yeah, it sure is."
Another pause. He supposes maybe he should try to make some conversation, too. "What are you out so late for?"
Your eyes roll a little. "Work party, thing." You don't seem to be too torn up about leaving. "Just glad it's over." The warmth comes back to your face, your eyes, when you look at him again. "You?"
Ah, shit.
He clears his throat a little. "Work stuff, too. Not a party, though." He sees your face shift to intrigue, alarm bells go off in his head, and he does his best to steer the conversation elsewhere. "What do you do?"
"I'm a librarian," you tell him. It suits you, he thinks. He can picture you putting books away on shelves, giving people recommendations, scanning them out for them. It's a sweet image. He wonders where you work; could Steven have seen you, or even met you at some point, and it just slipped Jake's notice? Something twinges inside him at the thought. "How about you?"
He should have known that question was coming; he set himself right up for it. What to tell you? "...Personal assistant," he settles on. "Sort of. A lot of odd jobs for this old rich guy." He doesn't look around, but he's willing to bet that if he did, he'd see the god somewhere giving him a death glare right now. He just prays you don't press much further. 
"Oh." You nod, either satisfied with the answer, too tired to ask any further, or wholly uninterested. Whatever the case, he heaves a mental sigh of relief. "A businessman," you add after a moment, with a yawn that you cover with your fist.
He chuckles a little bit, to himself. "You could say that."
"Well, you've got the face for it," you say. He blinks blankly at you for several moments. 
"...'Cause you... look like you mean business..." You elaborate hesitantly, and begin to snicker.
He doesn't quite understand your sleep-addled humor so much as he likes the sound of your laugh. And, he supposes it's a relief that you think of his lethal expression as something funny as opposed to something to be feared. And, maybe it's just so ridiculous it's a little bit funny. Whatever way, he can't help but laugh with you.
It takes him a little to notice that your laugh's died out, and you've fallen silent. He glances back at you to see you watching him with those wide eyes again, soft smile on your face. Your eyes fall to your lap quickly when you realize you've been caught, but the smile remains. You give another small laugh, like you're trying to brush off the moment. "Thought you wanted to bite my head off, that first day. You looked like you did," you say.
That makes his face fall a bit, and the warm feeling in his chest seems to crumple a little, in spite of the lighthearted way you said it. "I'm sorry," he says, soberly. "It was a..."
"Rough day?" You fill in for him.
He nods. "Yeah."
You smile generously. "It's okay. We all have those. All's well that ends well." You say the last bit with another glint of humor, an inside joke you're both in on. Your mouth falls open in a yawn once more.
"You're tired," he says. The observation isn't groundbreaking so much as his concern is; especially to him.
You wave it off.  "Just a long day."
Well, you definitely handle those better than he does. "I shouldn't keep you up," he protests, still, like he's the only thing standing between you and getting some rest; like you weren't the one who came and sat down next to him and started the conversation, to begin with.
"You aren't," you insist, rubbing at your tired eyes, pulling slightly at your face. "Besides, I need to stay up. Can't fall asleep on the bus. I'll miss my stop."
The offer is out of his mouth before he's even really thought about it. "You can. I'll wake you."
You stop and look at him, eyes a little wider, tentative. "Really?"
Maybe it was a little forward of him. He wouldn't trust just any stranger enough to sleep beside them and rely on them to wake him up. He's not just a stranger to you anymore, though. (Or so, he hopes.) So, he nods in response.
You pause for a moment. "...Then I'll miss talking to you."
The weird, warm feeling in his chest is back again. You'd miss talking to him. This is the most— actually, the only time you've really spoken thus far. Truth be told, he does like talking to you, too. But Jake isn't good at small talk. It's difficult for him; Most of his life isn't meant for your ears. And you keep yawning, and your eyelids look so heavy. He can practically feel the exhaustion radiating off of you. It's a feeling he knows all too well himself.
"It's okay," he placates. "Just get some rest, cariño."
You gaze at him a moment longer, the warm, soft look he's come to expect when he calls you by that name. And then you're gently laying your head on his shoulder, and closing your eyes.
His mind blanks for a moment. You're warm, and soft. You smell like fresh laundry. And you're resting your head on his shoulder to sleep.
When his thoughts return to him, he feels a sudden surge of duty. He doesn't think he's ever had a greater honor bestowed upon him than your trust. Forget being the avatar of an ancient Egyptian deity, being your personal travel pillow and alarm clock is the most important thing he's ever done in his entire godforsaken life.
He can hear his inner cynic, or maybe it's just the moon god himself— calling this a distraction, reminding him that he has no room in his mind, or his life, for something like this. Someone like you. That, if you could see the blood on his hands, you'd run.
They're things he already knows well. But just for this moment, they don't matter. They're not true. How could they be, when your frame fits so perfectly lying against his? When it feels like this to have you close?
He keeps watch over you as your breathing evens, glares at the bus driver for all the harsh breaks and sharp turns, glares out the window at the potholes, though you never stir. (He'd drive his limo so carefully, if he had you sleeping in the passenger seat, he thinks.) He keeps an eye on the door, but nobody else ever boards. It's just the two of you, the whole way down.
It's over far too soon. He's already missing the weight of you leaning against him when he gently lays a hand on your knee, nudging you awake. "Your stop, cariño."
You open bleary eyes and pull away from him regretfully; and maybe it soothes him just a little that you look as loathe to leave him as he is to watch you go.
You stand and hold his gaze for a few more moments. "Thank you," you say drowsily, a sleepy smile on your face. The bus won't wait forever, though. You turn at last and make towards the front door.
You've only made it about halfway up the aisle, when you freeze, spin on your heel, and hurry back to stand in front of him.
He fixes you with a puzzled gaze, which you don't see; you're rifling through your bag frantically for... something. You pull out a folded, slightly scrunched piece of paper, and hold it out to him.
"I... wanted you to have it," you say, a little flustered.
It's your phone number, scrawled out under your name. You wrote it out in advance, to give to him. The warm feeling in his chest flares hot, and he knows in that instant, that even if he never calls it, he'll keep it forever, guard that piece of paper with his life, treasure it as long as he lives.
You're still looking at him like you have something more to say; like you're working up the courage for it. He waits with bated breath.
It's awkward and a little messy and rushed, and you have to rest your hands on the seat as you lean over to keep your balance, but you lean in, and press a kiss against his cheek.
Your lips are a lightning strike directly to his heart. The warm feeling cracks, bursts, spreads through his whole body.
You get shy again, after you pull back. You give him a little wave and then you're scurrying off, apologizing effusively to the disgruntled bus driver who's grumbling about how he doesn't have all night. If he grumbles from the moment you step off, all the way until Jake finally gets off at his own stop, he doesn't even notice. He's too preoccupied with the piece of paper he's tucked carefully in his pocket, sticking his hand in and checking to make sure it's still there every so often.
***
The bus is cramped, and full the next morning, again. Someone— a stranger— takes the seat beside him with little fuss, and doesn't look terrified.  He's puzzled.
It's only when he catches his reflection in the window as he idly thumbs the piece of paper still tucked in his pocket, he realizes— he's smiling.
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idreamofplaid · 4 years ago
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Rebirth
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Square Filled: Anonymous Sex
Characters: Dean x Reader; Cara (OFC); Chase and Jake (OMCs) mentioned
Rating: Explicit
Summary: After a nasty divorce and some soul searching, the reader knows just how to get her life back with a little help from a young handsome stranger.
Word Count: 3576
Tags: language; oral (female receiving); unprotected sex; age difference
A/N: This is for @idabbleincrazy ‘s 1k Follower Celebration. Congrats on your 1st thousand followers! I chose the song “1985″ by Bowling for Soup for inspiration and the prompt “Oh, fuck off.”
Created for @spnkinkbingo
Fuck him and his new girlfriend. He could have at least waited until the ink dried on your divorce papers before he decided to parade his “new” woman in front of the entire town. New. Right. He’d been fucking her while he was still married to you.
You needed to get the hell out of this place. Start over somewhere, somewhere that no one knew of your humiliation or how you’d thrown your life away. Only, you couldn’t because you had two children in high school that loved their lives here. At least they were happy; that’s what mattered, right?
The so-called “friends” you had in the subdivision couldn’t wait to tell you about your barely ex-husband and how he’d been seen out with her at the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in town. It was the same place he’d taken you for your last anniversary. 
By the time your SUV pulled up in front of the bridal boutique, you were still seething. You slammed the door when you got out, not giving a damn who saw you. Let them go back and tell the entire fucking book club about your lack of decorum if that’s how they got their thrills.
When you walked into the store, a sea of white flooded your vision. Well, here was exactly what you wanted to see. Wedding dresses. Beyond them, further in the back, were the prom dresses. It was like the highlight reel of your life in dress form. 
You’d gone to your senior prom with the cheating son of a bitch that was now providing juicy material for all the town gossips, and just like the biggest cliche ever; you’d given him your virginity that night. If only you could take that back, but you’d been young, wide eyed, and in love. Four years later, right after college graduation, you married him. As a result, Chase was the only man you’d ever had sex with. Right now, you were really kicking yourself for that one.
In fact, you couldn’t be more pissed at yourself for the decisions you’d made. If there was a way you could erase it all and somehow keep your two kids, you’d do it. You loved them, and it was that love that brought you here to this hell of taffeta, sequins, and silk. The alterations were finished on your daughter’s prom dress, and it was ready for pick up.
You tried to settle the storm of anger and frustration that was raging inside you before you walked up to the counter. It wasn’t the sales associate’s fault your life had turned out the way it had. You blamed yourself for that, and blaming yourself just made you madder.
Somehow, you managed to plaster on a smile while you gave your name and got the dress. Once it was in your hands, you stood frozen staring at it. It was a sapphire blue, body hugging, silk and Cara would be beautiful in it. It made your mind wander back to another blue prom dress, the dress you had worn thirty years ago. “I was the goddamned prom queen,” you muttered under your breath.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” Joachin, the sales associate was staring at you with a confused expression on his face. 
“Nothing,” you replied a little too sharply, abandoning all your earlier good intentions toward the innocent Joachin. You turned and swept out of the store in a huff of tarnished memories and present day frustration.
As you walked out into the sunshine of the early afternoon, you draped the dress over your arm. With your other hand, you started to dig around in your purse for your keys. Where the hell were they?
By the time only a few steps remained between you and your car, a feeling of furious panic started to bubble up inside you. You couldn’t have.  When you reached the car and looked through the window, you saw that indeed you absolutely had. There were the keys, hanging in the ignition. 
You placed your forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed your eyes. Of course this had happened. You would be stuck here dealing with this fuck up for hours. The auto club was never quick to respond to any call for help. At least you didn’t have to worry about the kids getting home from school. Cara had her own car, and Jake had an away baseball game this afternoon. You wouldn’t need to pick him up until later tonight.
A deep voice broke through your mental attempt to organize this mess. “It looks like you could use some help.”
You opened your eyes to see those bloody keys still hanging there, mocking you. Without nearly as much fire as you’d been feeling earlier, but still enough to get your sentiment across, you responded, “Oh, fuck off.”
“Well, I could. Or, I could help you break into your car.” Break in? Who the hell was this, and how dare he have so much cockiness in his voice?
You turned to confront the unknown son of a bitch who was so clearly finding your situation amusing. Upon seeing him, your attitude instantly changed. This man was gorgeous. He had full lips, a chiseled jawline, and eyes the green of an Irish meadow.
His face was so pretty it could easily grace a movie screen, and his body was equally heart stopping. He had the broadest shoulders you’d ever seen on a man, and you could see enough through the open front of the leather jacket he was wearing to know his chest and stomach were firm. He looked like walking sex, and it had been way too long since you’d had any.
The spark of inspiration struck, but in this case it was more like a lightning bolt. It was time to reclaim your own life. “Forget the keys. Where’s your car?”
Young and handsome smiled and gave a nod in the direction of the other side of the street. “It’s over there.”
Your eyes followed the direction of the tilt of his head. “That’s your car?” It figured. The car was a classic muscle car, strong and beautiful. It was just as much of a standout as the man it belonged to. 
You dug back in your memory, seeking your long dormant flirting skills. They were rusty for sure, but still there. You smiled at this breathtaking man, just the right combination of coy and suggestive. “Could I trouble you to give me a ride home?”
He smiled back, and those green eyes got a certain gleam in them. God. He was clearly much better and more practiced at this flirting thing than you were. “Sure, sweetheart. It won’t be a problem at all.”
You followed him across the street, enjoying the view of his ass as you went. When you reached the car, he opened your door for you. THAT was something you hadn’t experienced in awhile. A welcome feeling began to flow through your veins, replacing the anger, frustration, humiliation, and regret you’d been feeling all day. This was a ripple of excitement and anticipation of entering unknown territory.
Handsome started the car, and the purr of the engine revved up that ripple of excitement inside you, turning it into a wave that washed over you and secured the idea that had been dancing through your mind. You silently committed yourself to it, and that decision filled you with something that felt remotely the way you remembered joy feeling.
He reached over and turned the knob to start the radio, then pushed a tape into the tape deck. Good lord. A cassette tape. It had been forever since you’d seen one of those. This guy had barely been born the last time they had been popular. 
The songs that poured through the speakers were from your youth, before that even. They were the songs you’d heard when you were a kid. Songs from the time of your life when you didn’t think anything about mistakes, or getting things wrong. You were just filled with hope, possibility, and excitement for the future. That was the feeling you needed to recapture.
This was a good start. Many would say it was a reckless start, but this wasn’t their life. It was yours, and it was time you took it back. In some ways, you would be claiming it for the first time, and this incredibly handsome, exciting, and just a bit dangerous man beside you could help you do that. 
He noticed the smile that had appeared on your face. “You like the music?” he asked. 
“I do. I appreciate a man with a taste for the classics.” Those intoxicating green eyes were focused on you before he turned them back to the road and smiled. 
Then a little bubble of excitement rose up in your chest, and you bit your lip. An idea had struck you. It was possible to redo your life; you were young enough. You weren’t just going to spend the rest of your days on the sidelines watching your kids live. On impulse, you turned and asked him, “Do you have anything from the eighties?” It was possible. This was a man with a collection of cassette tapes.
He didn’t take his eyes from the road, but his grin got bigger. “There’s a box under the seat. You might find some Bon Jovi in there, but I’m not making any promises.”
You reached under the seat, found the box, and started to shuffle through the bunch of tapes you found there. After sorting through the Zeppelin and the AC/DC, your eyes fell upon exacting what you’d been looking for. It was Bon Jovi’s greatest album in your opinion, Slippery When Wet, circa 1987. 
You opened the plastic cassette cover and took the tape in your hands. It sent a rush through you, unlike anything you’d felt in years. This was the album you played in your own cassette deck every afternoon after school, all that time ago, with your best friend in the passenger seat beside you. Everything lay ahead of you, all the bad decisions still lay ahead. It was all nothing but good. 
It felt like a magical talisman you held in your hands. You looked at your new companion hopefully. “Can I?”
“Sure,” he answered as he popped the current tape out of the deck and tossed it on the seat between you.
You put your find in the tape deck, and immediately the sounds of “Livin’ on a Prayer” filled your ears. Your eyes closed, and you allowed yourself to indulge in the fantasy of turning back the clock and living a different life. It was a life with a different boyfriend and a different outcome, the one where you weren’t a washed up stay at home mom who had put so many of her dreams on hold to support her husband and his.
Dreams of travel filled your mind, dreams of travel and starting your own business. Once you had imagined being a fashion designer, a glamorous fashion designer, before you started wearing conservative suburban wife clothes and stopped dreaming. The rekindling of that spark of who you might have been brought a smile to your lips.
“What are you thinking?” Handsome with the green eyes and the incredible voice asked you. He reached across the seat and took your hand in his. Your smile got even bigger. It was time to push the reset button on your life.
You gave the gorgeous stranger directions to your house. Okay, that was a little risky, but of all the things that had gone off the rails in your life; your intuition wasn’t one of them. You had the very distinct feeling you could trust him. 
Your garage door opener was trapped back in your SUV along with your keys. He’d just have to park his car in the driveway. Let the nosy neighbors wonder about that.
Fortunately, you had a spare key to the house hidden nearby. It took a minute to find the correct rock, but when you did; there was the key where you’d hidden it underneath. You returned to the front door triumphant, key in your hand. Once inside, you put your purse on the table in the foyer while mystery man turned in a slow circle, taking in the place.
He turned back to you. “Nice house.”
You took off your jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the corner. “Thanks. There’s a nice liquor cabinet too. How about a drink? A small thank you for rescuing me from the side of the road.”
He rubbed his thumb along the corner of his mouth. “It wasn’t exactly the side of the road, but I will take that drink.”
You walked on into the house, making your way to the living room; he followed. The bar was located near the massive floor to ceiling fireplace, and the ceilings were high. Chase had insisted on it. It always struck you as a little much, but he was ever aware of appearances. Until now, it would seem. Apparently, abandoning your wife and children for a gold digging bimbo was a good look.
The crystal decanters on the bar certainly had the right look. They also had the right aged whiskey inside them. You flipped over two tumblers and poured some in each. 
He took the glass you offered him and raised it to those luscious lips. After a long sip, he asked you “What’s it like living in a place like this?”
You whirled the whiskey in your glass for a moment, starting at it, then glanced up at him. “Not as wonderful as you might imagine. What about you? Where do you live?”
It was his turn to find his glass fascinating for a few seconds. “Nowhere really. I travel around a lot.” You couldn’t quite pin down the tone of his voice. Did he like that fact about his life or not? Either way, it added to the air of mystery around him.
You took a swallow from your own glass. The little boost of alcohol induced bravery certainly wouldn’t hurt with what you had in mind. “Are you in town for long?”
He licked his lips before answering. “That depends. I’m here for a job. Not sure how long it’s going to take yet.” Enough with the small talk.
You took the glass from his hand and put it down on the bar. “What about this afternoon? Do you have a little time off?”
He settled his hand at your waist. “I could take a couple of hours for some relaxation.”
You downed the remaining contents of your glass and placed it on the bar next to his. “I have a couple of hours too.” You put your arm around him and let your palm rest over the center of his back.
That sinful mouth was on top of yours in an instant, and he absolutely knew what to do with it. His kiss was gentle but firm, tongue dragging along the seam of your lips until you opened them for him. The taste of the bourbon on his tongue as his tongue moved around yours was practically weaving a spell around you.
The kiss became deeper and more insistent. Your tongue swirled and tangled around his, and your breathing hitched in your chest. He started to bend you back over the bar, and, from deep inside your pocket, your phone started to ring. “Ignore it,” he said against your lips.
“I can’t.” That’s what it meant to be a mother. You fished the phone out of your pocket and checked the screen to see who was calling. Maybe it wasn’t one of the kids. Cara.
You touched the screen to answer and put the phone next to your ear. “Hello.”
Without any preamble, your daughter launched right into the purpose of her call. “Mom, is okay if I…. Why are you breathing so hard? Are you doing one of those old aerobics routines again? Mom, that is so lame.”
He was kissing down your neck, his mouth open just enough to require you to struggle to concentrate. “No, that’s not what I’m doing.”
You heard the sigh and could picture her rolling her eyes. “Whatever, Mom. Can I go over to Tabitha’s for dinner?”
He was sucking on your pulse point, and it was getting harder to keep your mind on the conversation. “Yes. That’s fine. Be careful driving home.” You ended the call, aware the kissing that had felt so incredibly good had stopped.
He’d taken a step back from you, and those captivating green eyes held a big question. “Look, this can’t happen if you’re….”
You quickly replayed your side of the conversation in your head. “Married? No. I am very much not married. That was my daughter, and she won’t be home for several hours.”
His smile was back, and his arm went back around your waist. “Well, in that case, where were we?”
You all but tore the leather jacket from his shoulders and let it fall in a heap on your expensive rug along with your phone. The rest of his clothes and yours disappeared on the trip down the hall to your bedroom where you’d been sleeping alone for so many months. 
Surprisingly, you didn’t feel at all self conscious as you walked into your bedroom naked with this man you’d just met. He was a sight to behold. You wanted to taste and touch every tempting inch of him, and you started with his chest. 
You ran your hand over the firm muscles in his pecs and let your fingers trace over the fascinating tattoo there. It was as much a mystery as the rest of him, and you didn’t ask him any questions about it. This wasn’t a “bare your heart and share your past” kind of afternoon. 
He watched your hands on him, and when he raised his eyes to meet yours; they were dark, filled with lust. His hand closed over yours, large and strong, and he led you to the four poster bed. God, he was gorgeous. 
Solid thighs, toned stomach, and thick cock that made your mouth water just looking at it. He lay back on the bed, his golden freckle dusted skin a beautiful contrast to the white of the comforter, and pulled you down with him. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh. 
It made you wet for him, and for a brief second you wondered exactly what it was you were doing. That stray thought didn’t last long. It was replaced by a voice inside you that had been silenced by responsibilities and expectations of who you should be. He’s hot, and you’re single. Enjoy him.
He pulled you down into another kiss that made your head go dizzy with the sheer goodness of it. It felt wonderful, blissful, and consuming. Most of all, it made you feel sexy again. You started to move your hips, undulating them on the warmth of his firm body beneath you, losing yourself to the moment. 
There were so many sensations competing for your attention. He was igniting the desire inside you that you had all but forgotten was there. His muscled arms circled around you, and he rolled you under him, caging you between his arms on either side of your head. 
“Sure you want to do this?” he asked you huskily. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him.
“Absolutely. Don’t you dare stop now.” His lips crashed down on yours, and you returned every bit of the passion he put into that kiss. Then he moved his mouth down your body. The heat of his mouth closed over one of your nipples, and he began to suck on it, pulling the softest, neediest moans from you you’d ever heard escape your mouth. 
This man shattered every inhibition you ever had with his talented tongue. The sounds you made when he closed his lips around your clit were absolutely wanton. He licked at you and ate you out like he enjoyed it. If his mouth was talented; his cock was even better. 
It stretched you with a sweet burn that satisfied the ache and filled you. You dragged your nails down his back, wanting to leave your mark on him. He was certainly going to leave his with you. The memory of this day would be seared in your mind always. 
He knew ways to make you feel good you had never even known about yourself. After your third orgasm of the afternoon, he finally came. You felt the pulsing of his cock inside you, and there was a certain satisfaction in that. You were smiling when he pulled out, rolled over, and lay down next to you.
His chest was rising and falling, his arm slung over his head. He was the picture of debauchery, and you loved how it felt to be debauched. You would need to take the comforter to the cleaners after this, because you weren’t done yet. Let those busybodies at the dry cleaners just try and figure out what happened to your bedding.
That wicked thought made you smile broadly. Oh, yes. The comforter would be ruined by the time you were done. This guy was for sure good for another round. Or two.
Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @emoryhemsworth @emilyshurley @shaniquacynthia @crashdevlin @terrarium-jpeg @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911
Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05​ @weepingwillowphoenix​
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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago
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Leave No One Behind
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Ch 13- We Don’t Get Along
Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​
Summary: The team undertake another mission, only this one doesn’t go according to plan putting the entire team in danger and Ari is left facing the fact that he might have pushed both Hannah and Sammy too far this time…
Warnings: Bad Language words.
Pairings: Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz
A/N: Man it feels so GOOD to get back to this fic! We’re ramping up to the climax of the film now guys, so buckle up!
Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 12 Part 2
A love like ours is love that's hard to find. How could we let it slip away? We've come too far to leave it all behind. How could we end it all this way? When tomorrow comes and we'll both regret, the things we said today.
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  “Ari?”
Ari turned from where he had been helping someone across the sand to see a Navy Seal heading up the shore towards him.
“Yeah?”
“Here, this is for you.” The man handed him an envelope and Ari frowned. It wasn’t unusual for the Navy to sometimes bring messages and the like from home, especially as recently the stricter rules had meant that mail into Sudan from certain countries (Israel included) was being closely monitored, but still, he’d had a letter from Maya little over a week or so ago and wasn’t expecting another so soon.
“It's from your wife.” The seal continued, noting Ari’s hesitation and Ari reached out for the item in the man’s hand, glancing down at it.
“Thanks.” He folded the envelope and stuck it into his inside jacket pocket before he glanced up to see Hannah watching him, a confused expression on her face having clearly overheard the man refer to Sarah as his wife, which in fairness she still was as they weren’t divorced yet. But as he locked eyes with her, he saw the confusion slide into, well, hurt would be the most appropriate thing to describe it as and Ari, despite everything that was going on, let out a little groan. He hadn’t bothered to correct the man about Sarah and him being estranged because it wasn’t important all things considered.
Thankfully, Hannah shook herself out of her little moment and turned back to the task in hand which Ari was grateful for. This wasn’t the time or the place and he knew that Hannah would understand that. There were far more pressing things to deal with.
And those things got even more pressing when Max’s voice crackled over the radio.
“Guys, we have company.”
Ari froze, the radio in his hand as he hastily glanced around. “Say again?”
“We have company.”
Ari wheeled round and frantically began gesturing at the group of people on the shore line. “Go, go, go!” he urged, walking along the wet sand, his hand running through his hair as he looked up and over the beach. “What kind of company?” He asked, his voice urgent.
But the only response that came was Max cursing. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Military jeeps approaching from the North!” Max’s voice was clear but Ari could tell he was panicked “I see three, four jeeps.”
“Fuck!” Ari yelled, turning and gesturing to another Navy seal “Go, go, go, get on the Waverly!”
“Ari, what-” Hannah looked at him but before she could finish her sentence the sound of gunfire exploded across the night, sand scattering into the air as the bullets hit the beach all around them. Hannah gave a scream and ducked as Ari instinctively pulled her in front of him, placing himself between the oncoming fire and her.
“Sammy!” She yelled, looking around and Ari raised his head to check if everyone was alright. Jake was hurriedly shepherding a group onto one of the boats, helping push it out into the ocean, Sammy dodging around everyone trying to stop the panicking refugees from running away up the beach.
And then, one of the Navy seals gave a shout and dropped not far from where they were. Sammy paused and looked at the injured man, Hannah doing the same and they both ran towards him, keeping low.
Hannah was the first to reach him, and dropping to her knees she instinctively started to remove the man’s outer layer of clothing. “What's your name, soldier?” She asked, and when the man’s response was nothing more than a pained and panicked scream, she repeated her question a little more forcefully, trying to get him to stay conscious. “What's your name?”
“David.” He stuttered out, swallowing as he glanced up at her, his eyes wide with fright.
“David.” She nodded, her gaze not moving from his face as Sammy dropped to her side and immediately got to work, tearing off a sleeve from the man’s jacket and pressing it to the wound in his chest attempting to stem the blood. “Stay with us, okay?”
“You're gonna be all right.” Sammy nodded, before he looked up at Ari. “Get my bag, it's in the truck.”
“There’s no time!” Ari urged, ducking as another wave of bullets came flying their way. “We gotta get him to the Waverly.”
Sammy and Hannah exchanged a glance and Hannah took a deep breath.
“We’re sitting ducks out here, Sammy. His best chance is with the Navy medics.”
Sammy nodded and Ari grabbed one of the seals who had come running to help “Grab a leg!”
Ari and the Soldier lifted the wounded man, Sammy keeping his hand pressed over the wound in his chest as they made their way to the last waiting boat where they lay him down carefully with another seal.
“Hey, don't let go of this wound.” Sammy looked at the soldier who took over from him.
“Keep the pressure on even if your hand turns numb.” Hannah shouted over the noise, issuing instructions to the man in the boat. “You let go, he's dead!”
Hannah began to back away as Ari and Sammy gave the boat a shove, sending it over the beach before the three of them began to sprint up the beach, the bullets continued to fire into the air and sand around them. Ari shoved Hannah in front of him, yelling at her to keep low and not to stop, his heart pounding in out and out panic that she was going to get hit as they half ran, half stumbled to a cluster of rocks set a bit further up the beach, a little back from the shore line. Ari had no idea where Max or Jake had gone, he only hoped they’d found cover, but they were sensible guys, they knew the drill.
The three of them dropped into the shelter of the rocks, gunfire splintering shards off the boulders as they ducked, Hannah shrieking again as Ari once more twisted himself around her, one hand pushing her head down, the other curling around his own in a brace position.
“Dozen or so targets have been identified.” A Navy operative cracked on his radio. “Permission to engage.”
“No, do not engage!” Ari yelled back into his radio, desperate to try and keep control of the situation. “If you engage, it's all over. I'll handle it.”
“How?” Hannah screamed at him. “How the fuck are you going to handle this, Ari?”
Her eyes were wide with fright as he looked at her, swallowing slightly before he moved and took a quick look around at the approaching Sudanese Military.
“Do you trust me?” His chest heaved as he snapped his head back to look her in the eyes and she frowned.
“What? Yes, of course I do but-”
Before she could say anything else he grabbed her face, his large hands practically crushing her cheeks before he gave her a quick, furious peck on the lips and moved, tossing his radio onto the beach and covering it with sand.
“What are you doing?”
“Stay quiet and hidden.” He looked at her. “Once we’re gone, you find Max and Jake, and get back to the resort.”
“Ari, don’t you dare! I swear to fucking God if you leave-“
“Hannah for once in your life just shut up and do what I say!” He hissed at her, his face stern. At that he turned to Sammy “Follow my lead. “
“No, Ari-” Hannah began to protest but at that Ari stood up.
“Don't shoot, don't shoot!” He urged as he stepped out of the cover of the rocks.
“Sammy, please!” Hannah sobbed quietly as her brother dropped a soft kiss to her head.
“Do as he says, Han.” He urged before he too stood up and walked towards Ari, his hands held either side of his head.
“My name is Guy Thomas!” Hannah could hear Ari shouting. “From the Red Sea Diving Resort. We have tourists on night dive. What are you doing? Where's your commander?”
There was more shouting, and angry yelling and Hannah clamped her hand over her mouth, her body shaking uncontrollably as the tears poured down her face. She fought to keep the sobs from escaping her mouth, as she flattened herself back into the rocks as the shouting grew quieter and quieter. Eventually she heard the slamming of truck doors and the sound of engines as the vehicles tore away from the beach, and then there was nothing but the noise of the waves crashing against the shore.
Her chest felt tight and she was struggling to breathe, like her airway had been cut off. Scrunching her eyes closed, she hugged her knees closer to her body, waiting for the panic to subside as the world around her began to spin. She counted, reached down to the sand, feeling it between her fingers, cool against the heated skin on her clammy palms. Eventually, her chest released and she took in a painful gasp of air and opened her eyes, focussing on a spot of seaweed which lay to the left of the rock she was leaning against.
Hannah had no idea how long she was sat there, but eventually she gathered enough about her to take a cautious peek out from the rocks. She could see nothing, so she emerged at a crawl, staying low to the ground before she tentatively rose to her knees, then her feet, and began to scramble as best she could up the sand. A movement in her peripheral made her still but as her eyes focussed in the dim moonlight she recognised Jake’s loping gait. Then, another movement to the right had her focussing in that direction and she saw Max making his way towards Jake.
With a relieved sob she began to run towards them, stumbling a little as she sprinted as fast as she could towards the two men, just as Jake tackled Max to the floor. She continued running as Jake let go of Max having realised who he was and helped him to his feet, giving him a quick and urgent embrace. The two of them then spun in her direction and as she stumbled again, this time she couldn’t stop herself, and she felt her body pitching forward.
“Hey, I got you.” Max caught her under her armpits and pulled her to him as she pressed her face into his chest, her breathing ragged as she began to sob.
“Ari, Sammy, they took…they took…” She was hyperventilating again, the tears coursing down her face and Max pulled back a little, both his hands cupping her cheeks.
“We know.” He nodded. “They’ll be okay.”
“You don’t know that!” She practically screamed and Jake hastily hushed her. “This, it’s like Andy again, Max! I can’t lose him! I can’t lose him, or Sammy, I can’t!”
“Cracker, I know this is hard, but you gotta be quiet.” Max’s hands curled around her upper arms as he stooped down a little so his face was level with hers. “We need to get out of here.”
Hannah took in a deep gulp of air, trying to control herself as she knew he was right.
“Let’s get home and find out what’s going on.” Jake added, his voice a little shaky.
“Yeah, okay.” She nodded, her voice wobbling. “I’m sorry, I just…”
“Hey, nothing to be sorry for.” Max gently placed his hand on her neck in a sign of affection. “Come on.”
He offered her his hand and she took it, lacing her fingers into his and he gave a little encouraging squeeze. Taking a tentative step, she was pleased to find her legs cooperating, and with Jake walking on her other side, the three of them made their way quickly to the trucks.
“Dumb bastards left the keys.” Jake’s voice was shaky but relieved as he checked the ignition in one truck, Max inspecting the other before he gave a nod.
“Same here.” Max spoke. “Okay, we’ll take the off road route home. It’ll take us a little longer but we’ll avoid anyone who may or may not be waiting for us.”
Jake nodded, before he paused, and gave Max a quick embrace before he stooped to give Hannah a hug, noticing that she was shivering violently from a combination of fright and cold.
“Here.” he said gently, taking his jacket off and dropping it over her shoulder.
“Thanks Jake.” She mumbled, clutching it round her tightly, her fingers curling over the material, clinging to it as if her life depended on it.
“Any time, Red.” He smiled and she gave a little nod before she turned and made her way to the truck Max had checked.
As Jake made to walk away, Max grabbed his arm.
“You stop for nothing or no-one. If anything happens to one of us, the other keeps going.” He instructed, his voice low as he shot a glance over his shoulder to double check Hannah wasn’t in ear shot. “Fuck this leave no one behind bullshit.”
Jake nodded. “Keep going, yeah, got it.” He looked around before he sighed.” Ari and Sammy, man. They’re-”
“I know.” Max replied, his voice sombre as he cut Jake off. It didn’t need saying, he knew that they were in deep shit. “But if we don’t get back, then this situation is gonna be a whole lot worse.”
“Stay safe.” Jake nodded, and with a final quick embrace the two men headed to their respective trucks. Max hauled himself in to his and stole a quick glance at Hannah as she sat on the passenger seat, huddled in on herself, looking out of the window over the ocean. He took a deep breath, turned the key in the ignition and then set off, pulling away from the beach quickly, the wheels spinning slightly on the loose shale ground beneath the tyres.
****
"We're gonna get outta here. It's gonna be okay." Ari stated with fake conviction as he paced up and down the filthy jail cell he and Sammy had been thrown into. 
Sammy didn't respond, he had fallen into an introspective state the moment the Sudanese soldiers had made them get in the jeep and was now sat on a rusted bench inspecting the blood on his hands. Ari was worried about him and he had given Sammy a side glance before assuring him everything would turn out right, hoping to get the man out of the dangerous headspace he seemed to be caught in, but Sammy didn't even spare him a look. 
Then a guard walked past, the sound of a bunch of keys jingling and the clanking in another cell lock alerting Ari who turned hastily. "Hey, hey, excuse me." He called. "Excuse me. I need to talk to your commander. Hey!" Ari insisted but the guard totally ignored him, causing his despair as he resumed his pacing along the cell. "Fucking asshole."  
 "You're the asshole, Ari." Sammy spoke, his voice calm as his eyes remained fixed on the floor. 
"What?" Ari stopped and turned to look at him. 
 "I told you to cancel tonight's operation, I told you. I told you." Sammy insisted, his tone still calm as he fiddled with his fingers.
"You don't get to make that call." Ari responded somewhat irritated as he approached the cell door again.
 "No, I don't get to make that call, only you get to make that call."
"Is there something you wanna say?" Ari harshly asked.
"Why did you bring me down here?" Sammy lifted his head to look at Ari for the first time since they had arrived in the jail. "You act like we're best friends, but you never listen to a word I say. And I'm clearly not the best field doctor around anymore." He added as he raised his injured hand to punctuate his words. "Is it pity? Or was it just so you could get close to Hannah again?”
Ari snapped at Sammy's insinuations of him having a hidden agenda. "Yeah, it was pity. You happy? Now shut up." He ordered as he ran his hands through his hair. "We'll get out of here if we stay calm." 
 "They're gonna find out who we are." Sammy groaned. "They're gonna go to the hotel if they're not there already and they're gonna kill every single one of them, Max, Jake, Rachel..."
"Hey, stop using names." Ari cut him off as he walked towards him. He wanted, or better yet, he needed Sammy to keep the cover, and he also didn't need to hear him say the name of his sister. He didn't want to think about it, nor did he want to think about the fact he had left her behind albeit for a good reason, and the thought of her not being able to get to the resort safe and sound made him feel physically sick. "You don't know who's listening."
Sammy sat still but continued with his tirade against Ari's methods. "You think this kind of work is romantic? It's not romantic, it's practical. There's a protocol. You can't just make shit up as you go along and hope for the best."
"I know that." Ari snapped. "What we do is dangerous. People get hurt sometimes." He said in an attempt to justify his reckless ways, but that was the last straw. At the mention of someone being hurt Sammy cut him off loudly.
"Oh, I know." He shouted as he help up his hand angrily
"Is that what this is about? Your hand? Tangiers?"
"You know, I was a surgeon before I met you, and you dare come into my clinic, and make a joke about me not saving lives." Sammy replied, his tone harsh but calm at the same time.
"What joke, when did I make a joke? What joke?" Ari asked, annoyed and stunned at Sammy's accusation.
"It's not about my hand! It's about you." Sammy yelled as he stood up to face Ari. "It's about you and me. And Hannah. You had to drag her back into this fucking shit, and now she loves you." He spat the words at his friend's face, causing Ari to wince. "And they’re gonna torture us and we're gonna die in here and she’s gonna lose the both of us, lose someone she loves, again, and... and it's because your ego won't accept any help from anybody else.  And no matter what you do, I still fucking follow you around like that fucking dog of yours."
Ari swallowed. He was frozen and lost for words and the least he could do, or so he thought,  was to allow his friend the right to pour his heart out whether he liked his words or not. Sammy stood there looking at him for a few seconds before he laughed softly.
"I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid..." He repeated as he retreated to the cell door crying until he eventually shut up and started sobbing as he held onto the bars of the door.
"Hey." Ari tried to calm him, but then Sammy let out a scream of a yell, causing Ari to run towards him in an attempt to make him shut up.
"Hey, hey, hey, stop, stop, you're gonna get us killed. Don't-" he started to say as he tried to keep his voice even but Sammy cut him off with a punch which took Ari by surprise. Sammy took advantage of his staggering friend and blew him a couple more blows before Ari finally reacted, dodging the next one and was able to retaliate with a punch of his own, more in the hopes of making Sammy stop in order to avoid attracting the guards attention, than in a real desire to hurt him.
Eventually, the fight finally broke when Ari was able to overpower Sammy slamming him against a wall.
 "Sammy, stop." He hissed.
Sammy didn't fight back but pushed him away. "I tell you something now, Ari. If by some miracle we get out of here, if anything has happened to my sister, or Rachel because of you, I’ll fucking kill you myself."
Ari stared at Sammy as his words sank in. He was devastated, overridden by guilt and worried that his friend’s words might be actually a reality when or if they got out of that prison. That something might have happened to Hannah, to his firefly, because of him and his ego getting in the way. He had put his need to try and maintain cover so that they could continue their work before the safety of his team by forbidding the Navy Seals to get involved. They could have ended this there and then on the beach, and now they’d be on a ship heading for the safety of home. Instead here he was, banged up in a cell, again, with Sammy, having no idea if Hannah and the rest of the guys had made it home.
And if something happened to them, to his Firefly, he didn't know what he was gonna do. 
He felt the tears stinging at the back of his eyes as he slumped on the bench, his head in his hands, before he starting to silently sob.
****
The cell was silent, both men slumped on the floor on opposite walls. The only noises made since the fight had been Sammy's panting and Ari's hushed sobbing, which had died after a while. Ari was now watching his diver's watch, the time going painfully slow. It had been almost eight hours since they had been there. Eight fucking hours and every guard had ignored him. He sighed and threw his head back, grimacing as his face hurt from the blows Sammy had given him. He felt miserable. It was hot and sticky and he was in pain both physically and emotionally as Sammy hadn't spoken a word to him since their fight.
Eventually, Ari gathered all the strength he had left and pulled himself from the floor to sit on the bench and there he was, led on that bench, trying to clear his mind, when he heard footsteps. He sat up when a guard opened the door and nodded to them. He shared a glance with Sammy, who was also sitting up from his spot on the floor, and together they followed the guard out, down the corridor and into the main building where he saw Rachel and Madibo. Ari quickly put two and two together, Rachel must have gone to find Madibo to talk him into letting them out of the prison, and Sammy must have been thinking the same thing as Ari heard him give a little sigh. 
Ari was looking at Rachel, trying to read any sign Hannah was safe, but she was just staring at Sammy, taking in his horrible appearance as she struggled to keep a straight face. Ari knew that much, so his eyes fell on Madibo who was looking at him also taking in his injuries and then the Colonel's eyes flicked to Sammy's blood stained top. 
"Who did this to you?" Madibo asked them both, before he angrily turned to a guard speaking to him in Amharic.
"No, no, no, that's...It's not, they didn't..." Ari explained before he gestured between him and Sammy. "We did this. To each other."
Madibo frowned at Ari. "What do you mean?"
"We don't get along." Sammy deadpanned.
Madibo looked at Rachel before looking back at them and started chuckling heartily "Crazy Hawajas."  He said before laughing again. "You're free to go."
Ari paused, not daring to believe it, to believe his luck once more. He glanced at Sammy and then at Rachel and, looking for confirmation, he turned to Madibo who nodded. “You may go."
The three undercover agents thanked him and silently they made their turn to go, being escorted out by a guard. No sooner had they put a foot out of the building that Ari gently grabbed Rachel's arm, making her stop. 
"Did…"
"All three of them made it back, safe." Rachel cut him off before he could mention any names, her face expression not giving anything more away.
Ari let out a sigh of relief, as did Sammy, and the three of them stayed silent until they reached the jeep a few steps ahead when Rachel stopped and turned to Sammy, wrapping her arms around him.
"Hey." Sammy whispered, as he held her tight against him.
Ari dropped his head and stood still, hands on his jacket's pockets. He felt like he was intruding, but at the same time he was also desperate to get back and he knew it was like a five hour drive at least, till he could also wrap his arms around his firefly. Eventually Sammy pulled away and Rachel turned to Ari and examined at his face. "You did that?"
 "He’s an asshole." Sammy just shrugged.
Ari sighed and rubbed his head for a moment before holding his hands out for the keys. "I’ll drive."
****
The car drive back to the resort was distressing to say the least. You could cut the tension inside the car with a knife. Sammy had been sulking on the back seat all the time, refusing to say a single word to either of them. Rachel, on her part, had remained silent as well once she had filled them in properly in all the details of the last twelve hours or so at the resort and how she had gone to ask for Madibo's help after speaking to Ethan, who had told her he was flying to Port Sudan that very same day, but she turned back to check up on Sammy or watch Ari every now and then.
All in all, Ari was anxious and couldn't wait to get out of that suffocating space and hold Hannah in his arms again and check with his own eyes she was well. And he did after a few hours, as the car approached the resort he could see her figure standing behind Ethan, holding onto Jake's arm, squinting as if to check it was really him who was driving the incoming car.  Uneasy though he was about Ethan's presence at the resort, Ari tried unsuccessfully to hold back a smile when he stopped the car and Hannah ran past Ethan towards him, jumping onto his arms once he had got out of the jeep, hugging him for dear life.
Ari held her tightly, chuckling before whispering sweet nothings into her hair to assure his girl he was really there and in one piece.  But no sooner had he chuckled again and kissed Hannah's cheek and put her down, she slapped him fiercely across his face, causing his head to whip sharply to the right as she started yelling at him.
"It isn't funny, you asshole!" 
Ari tried to calm her as he struggled to dodge her blows as she hammered her fists at his chest, his face, anything she could aim at, but it was proving a really difficult task. Hannah had gone into overdrive and was desperately trying to whack him as tears run down her face. 
"Hannah!" Sammy called her, in an attempt to stop his raging sister, more as a desire to calm her than preventing her from hitting Ari. And then, as Hannah's brain registered the sound of her brother's voice, she stopped dead and threw herself into his arms, sobbing disconsolately. 
Eventually Hannah pulled away and Sammy kissed the top of her head before Rachel took her out of Ari's reach. Ari was confused, he knew deep down that Hannah had all the right to be mad at him but was hoping to make her understand why he had acted like he had before having to deal with Ethan and thus, he made a move to follow her and Rachel but Ethan cleared his throat demanding his attention and compelling him to stay put with only one look.
"You're overdressed." Ari commented, trying to lighten the tension a bit. But Ethan wasn't in any mood whatsoever to entertain his dark humour.
"Let's talk, inside." he ordered, un-phased.
 Ari dropped his head and had just started following Ethan who had turned to go inside when Sammy called the older man.
"Ethan!" He paused, giving time for Ethan to turn to look at him. "The soldier that was shot?"
Hannah dropped her head, she already knew the man’s fate as it had been one of the first things she had asked Ethan when he arrived in the resort, and Ethan looked at Sammy sympathetically before answering. 
"He lost too much blood." 
Sammy's head fell in understanding and Ethan turned again to follow Ari to his and Hannah’s hut. 
Ari paused to take off his jacket, before he felt something in the inside left pocket and suddenly remembered the letter he had received on the beach. He pulled it out, taking a look for the first time at the writing on the front and whilst it was addressed in Sarah’s tidy writing, he spotted a small smiley face in the bottom corner drawn in crayon. Taking a deep breath to steady his once more brewing emotions, he tossed the letter onto his nightstand before throwing his jacket over the chair in the corner as Ethan closed the door to the hut behind him.
"How did this happen?" Ethan asked, his voice calm.
"They mistook us for smugglers." Ari explained, his voice lower than usual, as he took off his watch as well and placed it on the bedside table, before picking up a towel that was on his bed.
"This whole thing's a bloody mistake." Ethan stated, visibly angry now, before sighing "It doesn't... It doesn't really matter anymore."
 Ari then stilled, realising what he meant. "You shutting us down?" He asked, and Ethan nodded, making him drop the towel he was cleaning himself with and sit on his bed. “You can't, Ethan." he said then, keeping his voice as calmed as possible. This mission's a success, we've got thousands of people out, we have thousands more coming this way." 
"That's exactly why we have to stop now.  While it's still a success." Ethan offered.
 Ari then stood up again. "God, you're thinking about the politics. Nothing's changed." He said, almost pleaded, as he approached Ethan. "The Sudanese don't know the missing..."
"You could have died last night." Ethan cut him off. "We were this close," he said, gesturing with his index finger and thumb, "to having an all-out war between our Navy Seals and the Sudanese military.  You were arrested. Again. They have a file on you."
With a groan Ari sat back down on the edge of his and Hannah’s bed.
"My job here isn't finished." He stated stubbornly, his voice soft again, making Ethan sigh and take a seat on a chair in front of where Ari was sat.
“Open your eyes. Look what's happening in Khartoum. They're arresting and executing dissidents. They're beating uncovered women in the street. They're expelling foreigners. Textbook revolution. It's time to get out." 
"Please, Ethan, please." Ari pleaded, but Ethan cut his pleads off loudly.
 "I want you chaps home." And then he shrugged.  "I don't need more bodies on my conscience. Take a few days to organize. And get the hell out of this God forsaken place."
Ari didn't say a word, but then again there wasn't much else he could say, and Ethan sighed as he stood up.
"Now I suggest you go deal with your domestic problems."
Ari shook his head, fully understanding what Ethan was referring to, and as much as he knew that was exactly what he had to do, he wasn't looking forward to Hannah's reaction to him again.
"I've been here for a few hours already and she’s hardly spoken a word. Every so often she would simply get up and walk the dog but that was it." Ethan explained and Ari sighed frustratedly. "Textbook PTSD if you ask me." He added, watching Ari intently.
"PTSD?" Ari frowned, lifting his head to look at Ethan who rolled his eyes and audibly sighed at his team leader's stupidity.
"Shall I remind you she already lost a husband in very similar circumstances?"
"Shit." Ari groaned, suddenly everything clicking in. A night mission, an ambush, them hiding behind rocks trying to find cover from stray shots...
"Penny dropped, Ari?" Ethan asked, before opening the hut's door.
Ari looked at him and swallowed hard as he nodded, his head falling down before whispering. "Yeah, yeah."
"Good. Now go deal with it." Ethan suggested before stepping outside the hut. Once outside he paused, and turned to Ari, a slight twinkle in his eyes. “I have to ask, where did you find the dog?”
“Erm…” Ari frowned at the man’s change of subject before he took a deep breath. “Han found him, in a cave at the end of the cove.”
“Hmmm.” Ethan said, his eyes flashing with a sudden humour. “I like him. He reminds me of someone, can’t think who” And with a final look at Ari he turned and left.
As the door shut behind Ethan, Ari let out a groan and ran his hands down his tender face. His fingers steeped in front of his mouth as he contemplated the fact that Ethan had basically just ended the mission. Ari wasn’t an idiot, he had known for a while this day would come, sooner rather than later, but still he wasn’t ready, not yet.
But then, would he ever be?
His eyes wandered around the hut that he had, for the last two years, called his home and all thoughts of disappointment flew from his mind as he spotted the envelope he’d tossed down five or so minutes ago. He stood up and made his way over, snatching it up before he opened it and pulled out the contents. There was no long letter, simply two folded up pieces of paper. The first one was blank, but inside that one was another that held a crayon drawing and he instantly felt his nose begin to sting and his eyes watered as he glanced down at the sketch of Maya, Sarah and him, complete with his rucksack hanging from his hand and beard on his face. He took a shuddering breath as he saw the words ‘My family’ written over the top of the photo and he wiped his eyes hastily, before he spotted that Maya had written the letters PTO in the bottom corner. He did just that and felt his mouth drop open at the second drawing on the back. It was him, this time depicted on a beach, with a woman next to him with long, dark hair, and at his feet sat a small grey dog. This time, the words ‘My Dad At Work’ were written alongside it and Ari sighed, taking a deep breath as he chuckled a little.
“Oh Munchkin.” He whispered, tracing the lines of the drawing a little before he folded it and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans to show Hannah.
That was if he could find her because, as it stood, she was proving to be quite elusive. She was nowhere to be found in the main building, Max and Jake who were in there both told him they hadn’t seen her in a while. He checked everywhere he could think of, the reception, kitchen, spare rooms, lounge area before be headed out to her little cave and there was no sign of her there either. With a sigh he stood on the beach, hands on his hips as he glanced along the shore line trying to figure out where she could possibly have gone when he heard a little bark in the distance. Turning his head towards it, Ari felt a smile cross his face as his eyes landed in the little boat shed where all the diving equipment was kept.
Bingo.
He hurried towards it and found her, not in the hut, but sat in one of the boats tied to the jetty, looking out over the ocean. Simon gave a little whine as he saw Ari coming and started to wag his tail in greeting.
“Hey.” Ari spoke as he walked down the small wooden jetty towards the diving boat. “I’ve been looking for you all over.”
“Take a hint then.” Hannah sniffed, not bothering to turn to look at him. “When someone hides it usually means they don’t wanna be found.”
“Is that what you were doing?” Ari asked as he gently stepped onto the boat causing it to sway gently, ripples spreading out on the surface of the ocean which was as still as a millpond. Simon jumped up at him and he gently pushed the dog down, giving him a quick pat.
“Leave me alone, Ari.” Her response, although not a direct yes, was affirmative. “I don’t wanna talk to you right now.”
“Come on Firefly, please.” Ari sighed, sitting on the bench opposite her. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what exactly?” Her head snapped up to look at him and Ari took a deep breath as he saw the anger blazing once more in her eyes. “For almost getting us killed? For being a reckless asshole? For fucking leaving me behind?”
By the time she had finished her voice was loud, laced with hurt as much as anger, and Ari swallowed, shaking his head.
“I needed you to stay hidden, Hannah.” He pressed, trying to explain his actions. “If they’d have seen you and taken you do you know what they’d have done to you?”
“You left me, Ari!” Hannah sniffed. “You left me and I was terrified.”
“Because I couldn’t let them find you, Baby!” Ari felt his gut twisting at the expression on Hannah’s face as she glanced away from him, tears in her eyes. “Do you think I wanted to leave you?”
“I doesn’t matter what you wanted!” Hannah screamed at him, making him recoil a little. “You did it! And I didn’t know what had happened to you, or what they were gonna do to you, or if I was ever gonna see you or Sammy ever again. I was going mad there, in the dark, hiding by those rocks and having to listen to everyone yelling and wondering if they were gonna find me, and if they had I’d have been there, alone, no gun, nothing!”
“I had no choice, Han!” Ari replied, his own voice gathering volume and momentum as he tried to make her understand. “If they’d have found you, you know what this place is like for women, shit, I don’t even wanna think about what those bastards would have done to you.” He swallowed, as the mere thought about what she could have gone through was enough to make him feel sick.
Hannah glanced at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as tears coursed down her face. All Ari wanted to do was hold her in his arms, but as he moved towards her she held her hands out and shook her head.
“Firefly…” 
“I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.” She spoke softly, and Ari frowned at her sudden change of mind and demeanour. “We all got back safe. You and Sammy are here and okay, well, sort of.” She nodded to the bruises on the left side of his face and Ari took a deep breath as she continued. “But I can’t lose you, Ari. I won’t go through that again, I can’t go through that again, I’m sorry.”
“What are you saying?” Ari whispered, his stomach turned to lead as he contemplated what her words meant. And when she answered, and confirmed his fears, he felt like his entire world was crumbling around him.
“I can’t do this.” She waved her hand between them. “Not anymore.”
“Hannah, no, please.” He gulped, reaching for her hand. ”Don’t do this.”
“What choice do I have?” She sniffed through her tears. “I love you, Ari. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, Mi Lobo, but I can’t lose you, and I can’t lose what I don’t have.”
“Hannah…” Ari felt his own lip beginning to wobble as he trailed off, the lump in his throat felt like a golf ball as the tears pricked his eyes.
“I couldn’t stand you leaving me again or dying…” Hannah’s voice dropped to a whisper and Ari shook his head.
“I’m never gonna leave you, Firefly.” He took a shuddering breath. “Not that way, you know this. I love you so fucking much.”
She turned her blue eyes to his, and he reached up, his hands cupping her face. “Ethan is pulling us out now anyway, so we’re going home.” His thumbs gently brushed over her cheekbones as he held her face steady so he could look at her. “And I’ll find something else to do. A desk job...”
“Will you?” Her tone was disbelieving.
“Yes!” He implored. “I told you almost two years ago that this was going to be my last field mission.”
“And how long until you get bored, or miserable?” Hannah shook her head, pulling her face out of his gently grasp.
“Nothing could make me as miserable as losing you.”
She turned to look out of the boat over at the sun which was sinking below the horizon before she shrugged. “Well, suppose you’d know how that feels, I mean, you walked away from me once after all.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth Ari heard her groan a little and he looked down at his hands, as he felt her turn to face him.
“I’m sorry, that was mean.”
“Maybe.” He looked at her with a sad smile. “But the truth hurts doesn’t it?” He took a deep breath and wiped at his eyes. “I can’t explain how sorry I am for leaving you last night. I can’t apologise enough for being an asshole and I can’t even begin to show you how much I love you, Hannah.” He sniffed a little and looked at her.
“I know.” She shook her head, fresh tears falling from her face.
“Then don’t finish this, please.” Ari’s chest hitched as Hannah looked at him once more, before she let out a huge sob, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry, Ari, I don’t want to, I don’t wanna be without you.” She cried. “I was lashing out, you know I lost Andy and yesterday I really thought I’d lost you again, and Sammy, and as per the last time I never got to say goodbye….”
At that she completely broke down, more apologies spilling from her mouth, and Ari hastily moved to sit by her, pulling her to him as she sobbed, her hands fisting in the back of his T-shirt as her arms hugged him. Ari pressed his face into her hair, his own chest hitching with silent sobs as he held her tightly, never wanting to let her go again. He’d been an asshole, he knew that. He also, deep down, knew that Ethan was right. They did need to get out of here. Not simply because of the Authorities, but the team were tied, they were done. And it was certainly better to quit whilst it had been successful than to go out under a dark cloud should anything go wrong.
Plus, he couldn’t lose the woman in his arms. Not again. He wanted a future with her. He saw them building a home, living together in a normal place, doing on normal dates, marriage and maybe even a family of their own.
With a shuddering breath he pulled back and looked down at her, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I don’t wannabe without you, either.” He shook his head. “I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Firefly. And I know me and Sarah aren’t legally divorced yet, but as soon as we’re home I’m gonna sort that out and…” he trailed off. “Then it’s a clean slate, for me and you.”
At that Simon jumped up in between them and Ari’s large hand lazily scratched behind his ear, as he took the opportunity to steady his emotions as the relief that she didn’t want to end things between them flooded Ari’s system. As the dog let out a little sigh of satisfaction, Ari was suddenly reminded of the picture in his pocket. He shifted slightly, and reached behind him, pulling it free.
“What’s that?” Hannah asked, wiping her face.
“It’s the letter the Navy Seal gave to me.” He said, holding it out to her. “Maya sent it. Have a look.”
Hannah eyed him for a moment before she took the piece of paper and Ari watched as she studied it, her eyes growing wide. She took a deep breath, tears once more trickled down her cheeks as she gave a little laugh, before she looked back up at him.
“If you wanna know where exactly you sit in my life, then there you have it.” He swallowed. “Maya knows all about you, because I tell her so much, and, fuck, Hannah…I…”
At that he was cut off as she surged forward, pressing her lips to his, her arms round his neck, pulling him down to her. Ari’s hand slipped a little on the bench, causing Simon to grumble in protest as he wriggled free from where he had been unceremoniously squashed as Ari’s strong arms pinned Hannah to his chest. The kiss was frantic, moans and groans slipping from both their mouths as their tongues fought for dominance. Hannah’s hands moved to tangle in the back of Ari’s hair, fisting slightly around the ends of the long strands round his neck and then the pain in Ari’s face suddenly registered and he gave an involuntary hiss and pulled back, his hand reaching up to his face, fingers gently pressing along his jawline.
Hannah studied him in the dim light that was now flooding the boat thanks to the lamps coming on around the resort. She gently reached up and titled his head around so she could see his injuries and for the first time noticed that it wasn’t just around his left eye. That side of his jaw as also peppered with bruises. She swallowed.
“Did they…”
“No.” Ari assured her. “It was Sammy. We err, we had a fight.”
“What?” She frowned, her hands dropping to his shoulders. “Why?”
“Coz I’m an asshole.”  He shrugged and Hannah arched her eyebrow.
“Well, yes, that’s a given, you are but…” She sighed. “Next time he beats up your pretty face I’m gonna smash his head against the floor.”
“You think my face is pretty, huh?” Are teased, gently placing his hands on her hips and Hannah smiled.
“You’re the most handsome man in the whole world to me, Lobo.”
“Good to know.” Ari smirked.
Hannah studied him for a moment before she sighed. “I love you, I’m so sorry for before.”
“Hey, don’t.” He shook his head. “I understand, I was an asshole. You and Sammy, you’re both right but…” He took a deep breath. “That’s why I get what Ethan’s saying now. We’re done. It’s time we all go home.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“Well I need to find Kabede, make sure he’s okay, and break the news to him.” Ari licked his lips. “Then we need to pack up what stuff we need to here and then we go.”
“Cut and run?”
“Most probably.” He nodded.
“Hmmm.” Hannah looked at him. “There is one thing you gotta do before all that.”
“What?”
“Shower. You stink.” She wrinkled her nose and Ari let out sigh.
“Yeah well, it wasn’t exactly the Ritz in there.” He shrugged before he ran one of his hands through his slightly greasy hair, the other flexing on her hip. “Wanna come scrub my back?”
Hannah looked at him for a moment, before she licked her lips and gave a grin. “Only if you repay the favour.”
“Why kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” Ari grinned and with a little groan he rose to his feet, offering Hannah his hand. She took it and together they made their way down the quiet, moonlit beach heading for their hut, Simon trotting behind them.
**** Chapter 14
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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago
Note
For the prompts: Sternay, Centaur, NSFW. Thank you!
Here you go!
Note: I use “races” here in the D&D sense.
Most nights, Barclay works undistracted until the end of dinner. Tonight, looks out the kitchen window so often Moira teases him that she’ll close it to save him from cutting off his own hand by mistake. 
He can’t help it. Every time a new party returns from an adventure or demands a table so they can sit and plan their next epic quest, he pokes his head into the dining room of Amnesty Lodge to see if a certain orc is among them. 
Technically, Joseph is half-orc, as his father was an elf, but his orcish traits dominate in all but his build and his ears. He’s so handsome, the first time he addressed Barclay by name he blushed for an hour afterwards. 
That was the second time they’d met, Joseph having returned from his job as the hired rogue of a party of treasure hunters. He’d been a spy during the last great skirmish, and now put his observation and information gathering skills to good use for a fair price. He, like other adventurers for hire, used Amnesty Lodge as his base, as it welcomed creatures of all kinds and had the best food in all of Kepler. 
When Joseph became a regular, it didn’t take long for him to post up in the place where it was easiest for him to talk to Barclay, and more than once he stayed to help the centaur put up chairs and wipe down tables. Four months ago, before he left to help some mages in search of rare artifacts, he knocked on Barclay’s door in the pre-dawn rain and kissed him goodbye, telling him to consider the kiss an offer he could refuse or accept on Josephs’ return. 
Barclay kissed him back immediately in reply.
Ever since that morning, Barclay’s orientation towards time changed. He no longer saw his life in weeks and months; instead it was divided into times when Joseph was in town and times when he was gone. It helps that Joseph prefers quests that are about knowledge and have a low chance of death, as he has little taste for violence (in fact, the only orc he knows with less taste for it is Duck, who seems annoyed at the fact the universe thinks it’s his destiny to fight).
When the last diner stumbles upstairs to their room, Moira pats his side, “I can get Jake to help me clean up. You go on home.”
A short walk brings him to his cottage on the edge of Amnestys’ grounds. He gathers his mail, starts a kettle for tea, and contemplates if he should take a bath now or wait for Joseph in the hopes he might join him. 
Knockknock
He hurries to the door, throws it open and finds a disheveled but pleased looking Joseph holding a bouquet of branches. 
“Hey” his brain offers no further thoughts, too busy drinking in the sight of the boyfriend he’s been missing these last ten days. 
“I’m sorry I’m late, we ran into some kind of conflict between two water golems and had to take a longer route. I, um, brought some apple blossoms as an apology.” 
“No need to apologize, blue eyes” Barclay takes the flowers, “I’m just glad you’re back in one piece. Uh, do you, uh, wanna come in? I’m making tea and, uh, I was gonna take a bath if you wanna join me.” In spite of the fact Joseph is already through the door and taking off his shoes, Barclay worries he’s moving too fast. 
“A bath sounds great, big guy” Joseph cups his face, takes his time kissing every inch of his lips before releasing him, “I’ll go get it started.” 
Barclay shuts the door and trots towards the kitchen. He munches two stems of blossoms and then sets the rest in some water on the table. 
He joins Joseph just as the orc closes off the sluice that directs the water from the hot springs outside into the massive, rocky tub. It’s designed with multiple wide, stone benches so Barclay can sit comfortably with his legs tucked beneath him. He sets the mugs of tea by the edge of the pool and wades in, settling on his preferred bench as Joseph floats over to him. A grey scar runs up one side of his green chest which, combined with the stylish piercings in his ears and the one stud in his nose, make him look a mixture of tough and debonair that never fails to make Barclay paw the ground with frustrated desire. 
The orc is so handsome, has kissed Barclay breathless and given him the honor of tasting his cock several times, but there are things Barclay wants from him that he will never ask for. And so, as the orc drapes his arms around his shoulders, he puts those lurid thoughts from his mind. 
“Do you want me to get your back?” Well-trimmed claws scritch the sensitive line where fur meets skin. 
“Fuck yeah.”
Joseph splashes to his side, retrieving one of the milky-white bottles lined along the rocky edge. The scent of oatmeal and chamomile fills twines into the steam as the orc guides a generous line of the shampoo down his spine. Barclay would never admit it in public, but he uses this blend in part because it brings a shine to his dark bay fur, the color of which he is immensely proud. 
“You have such a handsome coat” Joseph murmurs, fingers creating a path of suds as he rubs them in circles, “then again, the rest of you is handsome too, so it’s only remarkable in that it puts every other centaur I’ve seen to shame.”
Barclay squeezes the loofah he’s using on his shoulders, groans when Joseph digs his fingers into the spot on his back legs that is always sore after a day in the kitchen.
“Look at all that strength buried right here” Joseph pets up his leg and along his flank, “gods, Barclay, maybe I should count myself lucky that you work somewhere you aren’t seen so that I’m not constantly fighting off every centaur who passes through town and sees what a catch you are.”
“Babe please” he dumps water over his head, which does fuck-all to clear it, “please, when you talk like that it’s, I’m-”
The hands switch to soothing circles, “I’m sorry, if it’s making you uncomfortable I can stop.”
“No, no it’s more like, uh, fuck” he takes a deep breath, “talking to me like that while you touch me, while you’re right there all naked and perfect I, it turns me on and I don’t want to make you deal with that.”
Soft splashing as Joseph moves in front of him, “I think now is the time to tell you I’m, um, more than happy to deal with it. In fact, I was kind of hoping we could do that tonight. We can take our time, since neither of us has work tomorrow and I, um, well let’s just say I thought about you a lot while I was gone and wanted the chance to act on some of those thoughts.”
Barclay snorts, softly, “Trust me, babe, even if you think it’s a good idea now, you won’t when it happens. Lots of people love the idea of fucking a centaur right up until the moment and then they bail. And I mean, like, that’s cool, I don’t wanna fuck someone who’s freaked out and they can call it quits whenever but...yeah. I appreciate the thought, blue eyes.” He smiles, trying to show that he means it, because he does, he loves that Joseph thinks of him that way.
Joseph massages some of the shampoo into his hair, the two of them still face to face, “Do you remember that black trunk I left here last time?”
“Uhhuh” He closes his eyes, neck relaxing, “said it was stuff you needed to keep at my place.”
“It is, and now I know you didn’t peek at it. I did a bunch of research into the best way to prepare to get fucked by a centaur, and everything we need is in that box.”
“Aw babe, you did a research project for me.” Barclay hides his face in Joseph’s shoulder.
“It’s my love language.” Joseph kisses his cheek, “Barclay, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to. I just wanted you to know that this isn’t some idle fantasy for me, with you filling the role of hot centaur. This is something I want to do with you, my boyfriend who I adore and want to get fucked by.”
“Promise you’ll say something if I’m hurting you?” Barclay mumbles against soap-tinged skin.
A kiss on his head this time, “I promise.” 
------------------------------------------------------------------
Joseph is conscious of his reputation. He always has been, whether that was how his superiors saw him or how his potential clients see him now. This is why he’s well-aware of the joke that goes as follows:
Did you hear about the undiscovered creature?
No. What is it?
A race Joseph hasn’t fucked. 
That’s the translation from orcish, anyway. 
It’s not as if he has a checklist of beings he wants to bed. It’s that he’s never seen a creatures race as a deterrent. Not the very charming bugbear who bought him a drink his first time up in Vogel Pass. Not the shy dragonborn who asked him to dance at the Festival of the Two Moons. And certainly not the sweet, gentle centaur who owned his heart from the first time he smiled at him. 
Joseph considers himself practical, but Barclay forces him to confront the romantic streak running through his heart. He’d debated how best to show it, considering traditional gestures of orc courtship or a long, long letter, before an exasperated Duck pulled him aside and told him to just tell him, please Joe for fucks sake this is painful to watch. 
Over the last few months, he’s learned which flowers to bring his lover, what places to pet and scratch to melt that strong body beneath his hands. He’s also observed that Barclay is sexually pent up yet never asks for release, no matter how many times he swallows or strokes Josephs’ cock. So, while his research and subsequent offering of his ass are far from selfless, he hopes it will show his boyfriend that he will put in the work to bring him pleasure. 
He’s busy laying out the four glass cocks of increasing sizes next to the largest bottle of lube they had at fantasy Costco while Barclay arranges a set of cushions, bars, and ropes near the bed. When put together, the items form a rig that allow centaurs to fuck smaller partners. Barclay bought it the last time someone expressed a desire to fuck him; it’s never been used. 
Joseph sits on the bed, all his supplies in reach, and pats the large mattress to indicate Barclay can join him. 
“Should I help?” The centaur tucks his legs under him, tail twitching once. 
“Yes, by holding me while I warm up. You won’t be able to when you’re fucking me, so I need to get my fill.” He rests his back against Barclay’s bare chest, tips his head up so his boyfriend can kiss him, “if you’re good, maybe I’ll let you open me up some of the way.”
Barclay whines, nuzzling his hair as he preps the smallest toy. It slides in easily, Joseph working it back and forth with soft moans. It’s not long before he trades it for the next size, the one he uses most often. The centaur’s arms twine around his waist and his chin rests on his shoulder, jostling in time with Joseph’s thrusts. 
The third toy has a flared base and he grunts, spreading his legs wider as he pushes it in. He stops mid-way, needing a moment to relax. Barclay rubs his thighs, asking if there’s anything he needs. 
“A little distraction might help.”
“I can manage that.”
“GAHahnnnnm, shit, that works.” Joseph moves the toy incrementally deeper as Barclay nibbles his ears. The playful pain always makes him shiver and submit to whatever’s happening, and soon the toy bottoms out. He fucks himself with it until the idea of taking more feels not only possible, but wonderful. 
The fourth toy is, according to his research, to inches shorter and an inch and a half thinner than the average centaur cock. It’s an intense stretch and he groans, falling back in Barclays arms. The centaurs breath is coming in hot puffs on his neck and chest, and the bed is moving more than it was a minute ago.
“Enjoying the show, big guy?”
“Uhhuhnnn, I, fuck babe this is making me so fucking hard but I, I didn’t wanna say anything in case you needed to back out.”
“My sweet, considerate Barclay. Here, I have an idea.” He tips forward, splaying out on his stomach with the toy sticking part way out of his ass, “I want you to finish getting me ready.”
“Okay” He can feel Barclay’s hand shaking through the length of the toy, “fuck, your ass looks good like this.”
“It’ll look even better with yours in itAH gods, that’s a good speed for it, gods that feels so good.”
Barclay growls, pushes the toy all the way in as Joseph arches off the bed with a wall-shaking moan.
“That’s it, ohmylord, see big guy, I can take whatever you give me. You won’t break me, won’t hurt me, just fill me up and make me cum so hard I white out-”
“Who says you’re gonna get to cum, blue eyes? Maybe I’ll just fill that tight orc ass up and leave you there until I’m ready to breed again.”
There’s a smack just as the toy stops moving. Joseph turns to see Barclay with his hands clamped over his mouth. 
“‘M ‘orry.”
With some effort and another moan as the toy shifts, he rolls onto his side and holds up two fingers, “First off, I’ve heard way more explicit ‘breeding talk’ including from my own kind. Second of all, if it bothered me, I wouldn’t keep talking about how strong and capable you are when I want to wind you up. I was a spy, Barclay; I’m very good at telling what people want and what they’re hiding.”
“Joe….” it’s a whine. Rarer still is the use of his nickname, something Barclay only does when he’s far gone with desire. Joseph allows himself some internal smugness before smiling at his boyfriend. 
“I’m ready for the main event if you are.”
Lube drips down his thighs as Barclay helps him into place. There’s a large, square cushion with very little give shoved up against the wall. It’s waist-height for Joseph, so he bends over it and lets his boyfriend strap his wrists and ankles down against the faux-velvet. 
“Is that okay? You don’t need the extra pad under your feet?”
“Assuming we’re at a comfortable angle for you, I’m all set.”
“Right. Cool.” Barclay sounds almost impatient; what an evening of firsts this is turning out to be. “I’m gonna put the last piece on.”
A cool circle of stainless steel sits snugly against Joseph's ass. In his reading, he learned that a common issue was the cock slipping out during the precarious first pushes, leading to frustration for everyone. Since Barclay can’t guide it with his hand from the angle he’ll be at, the ring offers a tactile clue and keep him on course once he pushes in. 
The centaur moves so he’s behind him, then steps forward so his front legs are on either side of the block Joseph is strapped to. From here, the heat of his body surrounds the orc and he feels safe instead of smothered. After three mis-judged nudges, his cock threads though the ring, the flat, wide head of it parting Joseph’s ass as they both groan. 
“Shit” Joseph hisses. Barclay freezes above him, so he adds, “that was good cursing.”
It remains so as the thick head stretches him open, and he gasps with relief when it’s done breaching his body. The shaft is narrower, so that’s the hard part over with. Better still, his preparation pays off; the cock slides most of the way in with little resistance. 
“Can I start moving?” He can’t really see Barclay’s face from this angle, but the centaurs' shy, lustful hope is clear in his voice.
“Yes, big guyFUCK! Ohfuck, yes, holy hells that’s good.” The first thrusts make the purpose of the straps clear; if Joseph weren’t tied down, he’d be bounced this way and that, increasing his chances of injury. Trapped as he is, there’s less chance for accidental harm and no distraction from the massive cock relentlessly thudding into him. 
“Fuck, Joseph, you feel so good baby, fuck I never think of you as small but it’s like I can reach the back of your fucking throat like this.”
The comment draws his attention to what he assumes is a lump in the flat surface of the cushion that’s causing his stomach to rock at an angle. 
“Holy shit that’s, that’s your cock. Barclay, it’s, it’s literally bulging my stomach out.” He wishes the set up allowed him to see it, he wants to sear the image of Barclay’s cock molded against his flesh into the deepest corners of his memory. 
“I can feel it babe, believe me. Fuck, such a tight fit, you’re like a fucking toy, stretching to take me.” More force behind the thrusts, suggesting Barclay is using the bar enchanted into the wall for this exact purpose, “shouldn’t waste a breeding load on a toy, but fuck me if I care.”
“Gods almighty” that fact hadn’t appeared in his research, but makes perfect sense; if a centaur hasn’t fucked in awhile, their biology might generate a greater amount of cum the next time around in hopes of continuing their kind. 
“Yeah, you like that, like the idea of taking my cum so deep you’ll be able to taste it. Gonna fill you up babe, fuck, gonna leave you dripping for weeks.”
“That’s right, big guy, you can cum as much as you want.” His comment dies out into a prolonged whimper as his cock ruts against the cushion, pushing him towards orgasm. 
Barclay stops, huffing, and rumbles, “It’s cute how you think you get to make that call, instead of taking me for as long as I fucking say like the needy little piece of ass you are.”
“Sweet fucking hell” Is all Joseph gets out before his words give way to desperate, ecstatic sounds. Barclay fucks him so hard and fast it shakes dust from the ceiling and a picture from the wall. The entire lower half of his body is stretched and pounded so mercilessly and with absolutely no pauses, meaning his orgasm only registers when splatters across the floor. His sensitive cock gets no reprieve, bouncing in time with Barclays increasingly sharp thrusts and making Joseph gasp whenever it rubs against the cushion. 
His assumption that Barclay is going his fastest goes out the window when the centaur quickens his pace, Josephs wrists and ankles twisting in their bonds as his mind falls silent. All he hears is Barclay grunting as his cock tries to go deeper into his ass. 
“C’mon babe, c’mon, take it, take me deep, take the whole godsdamn fucking thingohfuck, Joe.” There’s a deep, broken cry as cum pumps into him, his body aching at the further intrusion. Barclay whimpers and moans above him, hips still jerking as he keeps cumming. By the time he gives a final thrust, cum is escaping back down his shaft, Joseph’s body unable to contain it. 
“Do, do you want me to pull out all at once?”
“Yes, best to get the mess over with instead of dragging oOWut.” His body gives up any pretense of supporting itself when the centaur slides out of him. Thank goodness for the cushions. Barclay isn’t faring any better, knees wobbling as he undoes Josephs’ restraints and helps him to the bed. The orc just manages to remember to toss a towel out for him to lay on so he doesn’t stain the bed sheets with the spend still running down his legs. 
Barclay nestles protectively around him, guiding his head to rest on the still-shiny fur of his back, “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“For us. I don’t know if you noticed, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”
“Kinda got that sense, yeah.”  Barclay rests their heads together, “Even so just...thanks. Thanks for taking the time and effort it takes to fuck me.”
Joseph toys with Barclay’s hair, tucks it behind his ears, “Barclay, I love you. Part of that means figuring things like this out together. Even if being with you, in any sense of the word, was a hundred times more complicated, that wouldn’t be enough to stop me from trying.”
Barclay doesn’t ask if he means it. Instead, he draws him into a kiss, works his magic with his lips and tongue until Joseph is practically draped over him, content and exhausted. Before the centaur scoops him up for another bath, he kisses his cheek and rumbles, “Thanks, babe. And I love you too.”
29 notes · View notes
wtfevenismypage · 4 years ago
Text
Sinfully Sweet pt.2
 Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary:You shouldn’t be this addicted to him, but he was just so sinfully sweet.
Warnings:Smut (Penetrative sex, oral (male recieving)), Cursing
A/N: Almost everyone said Spencer should be a switch (Dom+) so congrats! I’ll add a few sub Spencer scenes throughout the series! This series is going to be filled with a whole lot of Smut, so if that ain’t your thing, I recommend not reading!
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You don’t completely remember how you ended up on your knees for this guy, but you weren’t upset.
You were sending winks his way throughout the night. 
He kept blushing, but it was so fucking hot.
He bought out your private room.
You giddily made your way over after a pep talk with Renee.
And now here you are, pulling his dick out of his boxers with a smirk. You tug his boxers to his ankles. Gently, you wrap your hands around it, giving it one long stroke and earning a groan from him.
It filled your ego with pride, knowing this was the response you elicited from him. 
You lick a thin stripe of saliva from the base all the way to his tip, wrapping your lips around his cock and twirling your tongue around.
“Holy shit.”
Oh. 
His voice.
It hadn’t occurred to you that you never even heard him speak a word before, you were too caught up in his body language, emphasis on the body. 
You took him in deeper, letting him hit the back of your throat, making you gag momentarily before getting used to the feeling of him. He tasted phenomenal, your tongue swirling around his underside. 
Your hands separate to different areas, the right on his balls, and the left on your barely clothed clit.
“Fuck.”
He grabs your already tied hair, gently smothering his cock further down your throat. You moan at the feeling of your cold fingers on your clit, feeling your arousal soak into your thong.
The noises coming from your mouth were straight out of a porno, so elicit and entrancing that both of you couldn’t stop moaning. 
The vibrations of your hums kept going straight to his cock, a euphoric feeling that he would be sure to remember. 
He pulls you up, your mouth coming off of his dick with a ‘pop’, and he pushes you onto the bed in the small private room. 
Quickly, he grabs a condom from the bedside table, rolling it over his lengthy cock.
“Shit... You’ve been staring at me all night baby, you want me huh?”
Of course he knew you wanted him. You’re not that good at hiding your body language, hell, you thrived off of making men reciprocate the lust that you expressed. He knew from the moment you tripped on the stage that you wanted him.
And he wanted you too. The moment he caught your eye he knew he wasn’t going to go home early like he usually does. Hell, Morgan wouldn’t stop teasing him for his sudden pique of interest in staying when he had so desperately begged Morgan to let him stay home. 
But now here he was, toying with your soaked cunt with those long fingers of his. You moaned out so loudly, if there wasn’t music roaring on the dance floor beyond the silk opaque curtains that blocked you and the mystery man off, they would have for sure heard you.
“Oh my god... Fuck me please!”
He lets a lazy smirk cover his lips, his fingers dipping into your tight pussy with a loud groan from you. 
He curled his fingers upwards, toying around with your insides as your eyes cross, your jaw dropping while he fucks his fingers in and out.
The moans just keep slipping out of you with each quick thrust of his hand. You plead and beg him to fuck you, whining for his cock to be inside of you.
And oh boy does he deliver.
Quicker than you can see, he inserts his cock deep inside of you, making you moan so loud it could practically be a scream. It stretched you so good, reaching the back of your insides and thrusting in and out at a slow, but rapidly increasing speed.
It felt electric, your orgasm snuck up on you unexpectedly. Your insides felt like an insatiable fire with his groans and moans being your fuel.
“Please... Please can I cum?”
You begged, pleading with his dark eyes that only made you want to cum more. 
And with a small nod of his head you fall far over the edge of euphoria, letting the warmth wash over your body and your legs shaking like thunder.
He followed quickly behind you, cumming into a condom as his dick is buried deep inside of you.
You must have blacked out on what happened next, because next thing you know you’re back behind the bar completely cleaned up. And Spencer is nowhere to be seen.
But Renee and Jake slide next to you, nudging your arms with smug smirks.
“What have you been up to little girl?”
“I was taking every chance I could get to get the fuck away from you two smug assholes.”
They dramatically laugh, and you look around, realizing that no one is really around anymore. It’s cleared out, all of the customers are gone.
“Okay, now that we are alone, tell me about your clients!”
Renee says, always the nosy brat. But you smile anyways, letting Jake speak first.
“Okay, I got laid by this super hot muscly dude, like, he was tall and tan and those abs sweetie. You can clean clothes in the fifties on those abs. and his skin was like, super clear. Not a single scar or blemish on his pale snow skin. Oh and don’t even get me started on his dick dude. It was massive.”
You smiled, Jake always did have a thing for muscles, you and him kind of had a complete opposite taste in men. You liked guys who were more lean and skinny, but he loved thick muscly guys.
“What about you Y/N? You seemed pretty happy to get to that private room.”
Renee says as a smile falls over your features. Hell yeah you were happy, that guy was fucking hot.
“Oh my god I don’t thing I’ve ever cum harder in my life. He like, filled me up so snug and good, and holy hell it was just amazing. Only issue is, I didn’t get his name, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t get mine.”
You shrug, grabbing your jeans and hoodie from your bag on the floor and slipping them on, clutching the oversized sleeves to protect your fingers from the cold air around you.
“Who knows, maybe he’ll return for more.”
That night you walked home in the rain, the freezing water making your skin jump up with goosebumps. When you arrived home, you ran a hot bath and scrubbed your skin down slowly.
You could practically feel his fingers on your skin, remembering his lengthy cock burying itself into your body. Oh what you would do just to feel it again, to allow him to completely ruin you. 
He was holding back earlier and you knew it. You wanted him to wreak havoc on your body, to pillage, use, and abuse it until you were left a quivering mess of foggy thoughts. 
Or, maybe you would wreck him. Maybe you would deny him an orgasm so many times he would beg you to let him cum. He would be left in tears by the time you were done with him. 
Maybe, just maybe, you would peg him. Fuck him senseless until he forgets his own name. Wouldn’t that be a beautiful sight? Him on top of you, bouncing on a dildo with those crimson red cheeks?
Soon enough you had your fingers fucking themselves into you, crying out from how sensitive you were but holy fuck it felt so good. 
You approached your high quicker than usual, thanks to the image of mystery man stuck in your brain, and you washed yourself down a final time before getting out of the tub and flopping on your bed.
You didn’t even care about your sheets soaking up the moisture of your body, which usually made you cringe, you were to tired to care. 
The next morning was dreadful. You woke up sweating with a stuffy nose and a sore throat.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccck.”
You whine out, checking your temperature which was a booming 103 degrees. 
So you did what you could do.
“Jaaaaaaaake! Wake Renee up and get over here! I’m sick and I want soup.”
You shouted over your phone, listening to Jake chuckle.
“Sweetie we’re already on our way. Have you checked the time?”
So you look at the clock on your phone, groaning at the numbers.
“Shit... 10:34... I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize sweetie, we’ll be over with food soon.”
“Thank you my loves!”
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vampiregirl1797 · 5 years ago
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When You Have a Breakdown at Work
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Jake Peralta x Reader
 GIF Not Mine
 Word Count: 3,184
 Warnings: maybe a little angst, & so much fluff
 Click Here For Masterlist
 Summary: Y/N’s having a bad day at work. The brother she hasn’t heard from in five years called to ask for bail money, and it brings back a lot of painful memories. More specifically, the memories of her parents turning her away after she removed the presence of her toxic brother from her life. Work isn’t the best place to have a breakdown, but the evidence room offers some privacy as she slowly falls apart, and when her partner finds her, his warm embrace provides some much needed comfort. As Y/N tells him what happened, he finds himself unable to hold his words back and ends up confessing how much she means to him. How will she react?
 I took another deep breath and forced myself to gently place my phone back on my desk, instead of throwing it through one of the precinct windows like I wanted to. Now wasn’t the time to express my anger and complete frustration—I was at work. Now was the time to be professional and get on with my job, no matter how unbelievably annoying my brother was.
He’d done it again. Gotten himself arrested for having drugs on his person and in his system evidently. His sentence was going to be higher than it usually was because the high quantity of illegal substances he had on him led the cops who arrested him to believe he had the intent to distribute. Hell, I wouldn’t even be surprised if he had turned to dealing—he couldn’t hold down any other work so why wouldn’t he try and make some money to ensure he could keep up his habit.
 I’d really tried with him, he was a year and seven months younger than me, and despite the fact that he towered over me and looked about forty five rather than thirty one, he was my little brother. But I’d disowned him about five years ago, after he’d gone off the rails for the third time, and I’d had to use what little savings I had to bail him out of jail, again. I realised then that I wasn’t family to him. I was a bank that he called up when he needed someone to come and save him because he couldn’t face the repercussions of his actions.
 That was the last time I’d saved his ass, and I told him that from that moment, as far as I was concerned, I no longer had a little brother. I was officially an only child. He hadn’t taken it well and my parents had taken it worse—they’d retaliated by disowning me. It had been hard for a while afterwards, but when I got transferred to the 99th precinct in Brooklyn, I found a new family. One that was better than the one I’d had, and I was incredibly grateful to have them all in my life every day.
 So, after all of this time, it came as a shock to receive a call from him. He’d gotten himself arrested again and apparently mom and dad couldn’t afford to bail him out this time. I idly wondered exactly how many other time’s they’d had to cough up some bail money for their perfect son, especially if it had gotten to the point of them having nothing left this time. I knew mom and dad had a nice little nest egg they’d put aside for their retirement—had he drained it all? I felt my heart clench at what that meant for them, but I didn’t let myself linger on it—it was their choice to keep him in their lives and ignore his toxic tendencies. I was not responsible for their choices and I was certainly not going to suffer the consequences of their actions.
 ‘Hey, Y/N did you finish the report for that B and E?’ Jake’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
 ‘Uh, yeah it’s on Holt’s desk.’ I forced a smile, grabbing some extra files I needed to finish and standing up, ‘I’m gonna go and finish these somewhere else. It’s a little loud in here, I can’t concentrate.’
 I fled before Jake could say anything in response—if I gave him the chance to talk he would comment on the fact that the bullpen was quieter than it ever was because him and I were the only ones there. Well, aside from Sarge and the Captain, but both were always quiet because they had their own paperwork to be getting on with. Rosa and Charles were out on a case and Amy was off for the weekend—apparently she was going to see a TED talk on body language…at least I think that’s what she’d said. Gina was out on lunch, but she’d been gone for at least two hours now—I was anyone’s guess if and when she was coming back.
 So really, needing quiet was a bogus excuse and Jake would pick up on that and start asking me what was wrong, and I didn’t want to talk about it. At least, not here anyway. Jake already knew about the non-existent relationship I had with my family—he was my partner and the stake outs, undercover missions and late nights filling out paperwork led to a lot of time for bonding. It was safe to say that the hyperactive man knew me better than anyone on the squad, or rather, anyone ever. There was just something about the brown haired, brown-eyed boy that made it impossible not to feel comfortable around him. I didn’t know if it was just a part of his personality, or if he was just the first and only person I’d ever clicked with so fast. Either way, I was lucky to have him in my life, as someone I could tell anything to, as someone I knew I could call at three in the morning because I needed to talk to someone who would listen… as someone I was starting to care for as more than a friend.
 I shook my head free of those thoughts and took a seat at the desk in the evidence room. I will only focus on my paperwork. With a determined nod I opened my files and started filling out the relevant information, placing sticky tabs onto the pages I’d need to get Peralta to sign too. It didn’t take as long as I’d thought and in no time, I’d finished the four lots of reports and I was staring blankly at one of the many plain brown boxes piled on the shelves of evidence lock up.
 These were times when I’d distract myself, refusing to linger on the pain and abandonment that sprang up inside of me whenever I thought about my family. Usually it worked great, and I got to a point where I could go months without them even crossing my mind. But I guess hearing my brother’s voice earlier was making it more difficult—he’d opened up the wound and I was going to have to wait for the skin to stitch itself back together.
 I knew I’d made the right decision for me—my brother was toxic and even though it hadn’t been easy, I’d cut him out of my life, because I just couldn’t be happy while I was constantly waiting for the phone to ring to bail his ass out of whatever problem he’d managed to get himself into. The thought of that isn’t what hurt; what hurt more than anything was how easily and quickly my parents had turned their backs on me. How couldn’t they see how poisonous, how selfish he was? Why couldn’t they understand why I had to do what I did?
 I took a deep breath and when it turned into a sob, the tears in my eyes spilled over. I leaned back in my chair, pulling my knees up to my chest and decided to indulge in a good cry. Everyone needed that once and a while, right? I hid my face in my knees and just let the tears, the sobs, all of it out. I’d been holding it in for a long time—while I’d shed a few tears over this predicament over the last five years, I’d never let myself go this much. And while my heart was throbbing painfully and my throat was starting to feel raw, it felt good to purge all of the feelings of abandonment, anger and hurt from my body.
 Being so lost in crying I hadn’t heard someone join me in the evidence room and I just about jumped a mile when I felt a hand on my back. I looked up to see Jake, his hands held in front of him defensively and his brown eyes shining with concern. Without much thought I practically leaped into his arms and buried my face in his chest, the sobs and tears continuing to fall from me—I was too far in to stop now, I had to let it run its course. Jake’s arms wound around me and he rested his chin on top of my head, murmuring soothing things to me. Eventually he sat in the chair I’d been on when he’d arrived, pulling me onto his lap and allowing me to nuzzle further into his warmth. He started to rub the bottom of my back comfortingly and I just about melted into him as the tears finally started to subside.
 I don’t know how long we were sat there for, but he never once complained or pushed me to talk about what had caused this reaction, even after the tears stopped. He just kept rubbing my back and occasionally placing a chaste kiss to my hair, which made my heart skip in my chest every time. I nuzzled my way up to the crook of his neck, inhaling his cologne and not fighting as my eyes fluttered shut at the comfort and security that intensified around me.
 ‘Thank you, Jake.’ I murmured, my voice was low but even I could hear how weak it sounded.
 ‘It’s no problem, Y/N.’ He kissed my hair again and I could sense that he was bracing himself to ask me something that he was worried I wouldn’t want to hear, ‘did something happen?’
 The question didn’t make me stiffen defensively like it would have if anyone else had asked. But coming from him, I didn’t mind, and so instead I sighed and melted further into him.
 ‘My bother called.’ I felt him stiffen momentarily—he knew that couldn’t mean anything good, especially with the state he’d found me in, ‘he was arrested for possession and intent to distribute. Mom and dad couldn’t afford to bail him out this time, apparently I was his last resort.’
 ‘What did you tell him?’ he asked, a little hesitantly.
 ‘I told him that I didn’t care and that it was about time he faced some repercussions for his actions. He told me I was a bitch and that I was dead to him. I told him he’d been dead to me for five years, harsh but true.’ I shrugged and Jake’s index finger tilted my chin up so he could study my eyes. I assumed he was trying to figure out if I was actually feeling as casual and dismissive as I was acting over the conversation I’d had with my brother.
 He frowned in confusion, ‘you don’t seem upset about that, so what’s bought this on?’
 Another sigh fell from me, my eyes fluttering closed as his hand caressed the side of my face, ‘over the past five years I’d gotten good at not thinking about my family, I’d just distract myself whenever a thought about them popped into my head.’ He nodded, but the crease between his brows hinted that his confusion lingered, ‘and I got to a point where they wouldn’t cross my mind for months, but that phone call, hearing his voice just bought it all back. Tore open the wound all over again, and while I honestly don’t care about my brother no longer being in my life… it still hurts that my mom and dad just disowned me so easily. I still don’t understand why. I get that they were pissed at me for disowning him, but why can’t they understand that with him in my life I was only ever on edge? That I couldn’t be truly happy while I was waiting for the phone to ring with him asking for more money to bail him out of whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into?’
 The pain in Jake’s eyes made my eyes tear up all over again, touched that he seemed to care enough that my sadness affected him so deeply. I took a deep breath, determined to get it all out.
 ‘My anger has stopped me from shedding more than a few tears over the years, I never let it out, never let myself properly grieve for the parents I lost. And for some reason I decided that here in the evidence lock up was the best location for that to happen.’ My tone turned a little light-hearted at the end and Jake acknowledged my effort by smiling a little, but the pain still lingered in his eyes.
 ‘I’m so sorry, Y/N.’ He said, his words coming out so quickly that I had to concentrate to catch them all, it was as if he’d been holding it in for a long time and now he was rushing to get it all out, ‘I’m sorry that your parents and your brother didn’t realise how lucky they were to have you in their lives. I’m sorry that they just disowned you so easily, without recognising what a loss it would be and how empty their lives must be without you in it. I’m sorry that they hurt you.’ His eyes were shining with such intensity as he spoke and when he paused to take a breath, a softness appeared in them that made my breath catch, ‘I’m sorry they didn’t appreciate how incredible you are when they had the chance, but I’m not sorry that they’re never going to get the chance again. Because they don’t deserve it, they don’t deserve to have you in their lives. They don’t deserve to know the person you are now because they didn’t realise how kind, sweet, caring and loving you were then. They don’t deserve to know all of the achievements you’ve accomplished in your career and your personal life.’ He gently wiped away the tears as they fell down my cheeks, ‘the truth is, Y/N, I don’t understand how anyone could ever turn their back on you, because I cannot imagine my life without you. It would be empty, a lot less fun, I wouldn’t be as enthusiastic to come to work because I wouldn’t have the fact that I would get to see you to motivate me.’
 ‘Jake,’ I whispered, overwhelmed and I feeling myself fall that little bit more in love with him.
 ‘I know I’m being a little intense here and I hope that it’s not freaking you out, but I wanted you to know that I and everyone in your life now, would never be able to abandon you like they did. You have a family, you have a home here.’ He kissed my forehead.
 His proximity didn’t diminish after, as he rested his forehead against mine, close enough that I could feel his breath mingling with mine, both of us suddenly breathing sporadically. I knew he wouldn’t move close enough to kiss me, he would leave the power in my hands, and if I pushed him away he would immediately get off me and give me space. But I didn’t want space; I wanted to feel his lips moving against mine, I wanted to taste his skin on my tongue. My hands trailed up either side of his neck and moved through his soft brunette hair, Jake’s eyes darkened with lust and I felt my knees go weak—if I’d still been standing I would have crumpled to the floor. I gently pulled him towards me, close enough to close the small gap between us.
 The kiss started off tender, his soft lips dancing gently with mine as we tentatively learned how to move together. Once the shyness melted into the heat of our lust, the kiss became more passionate, me shifting in his lap to straddle him, my hands tightening in his hair when he gripped my waist tighter to pull me closer. I felt a moan tumble from me when he flicked his tongue against mine—I’d never had that kind of reaction when kissing anyone before, but no one had ever kissed me so expertly, so effortlessly as if he knew what I wanted when I didn’t. I felt myself melt into him as his tongue dominated mine, another sound of pleasure leaving my throat. I was overwhelmed with the affect he was having on me—my whole body was tingling with electricity, my bones felt like they’d melted and a knot of pleasure was forming in my belly and growing so quickly that I felt like I was going to burst into flames at any moment.
 Eventually we reluctantly pulled apart, our bodies needing the oxygen we’d been denying it for too long. My forehead fell to his shoulder as I tried to get my breathing under control, and when I felt like I could speak again a breathy, ‘wow’ was whispered into the skin of his neck.
 ‘That was the hottest moment of my life.’ His voice was breathy too and I lifted my head to look at him, a teasing smile on my face.
 ‘Title of your sex tape.’ I winked, laughing with him, though I stopped abruptly when he sat up straighter, his hands tightening on my waist to assure he didn’t drop me.
 He gasped, ‘title of our sex tape!’
 I threw my head back, a loud laugh tumbling from my throat as I slapped the hand he held up for a high five. He entwined our fingers together and pulled me closer, placing a short but passionate and loving kiss to my lips. His eyes were soft when we pulled apart, and I knew that I was observing him in the same adoring way as my free hand fell to the back of his neck, playing with the longer strands of his soft hair.
 ‘I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Jake Peralta.’ I murmured, kissing his nose when he bashfully grinned, his eyes softening even more.
 ‘Not as lucky as I am.’ His hand caressed the side of my face, his eyes tender with adoration and sincerity, and he bought our lips together once again.
 As our lips moved together once again, I couldn’t help but thank whatever deity had bought Jake Peralta and the rest of the squad into my life. Because Jake was right, I did have a family here, one that was better and stronger than the relationships I used to have with my mom, dad and brother. But I was especially grateful for Jake. For his kindness, generosity, for caring about me, for loving me. We might not have said it, but I knew he felt it, just as I knew he was sure that I felt the same for him—it was clear in our eyes as we looked at each other and our touch as we held one another.
 And as our kiss deepened with fervour, I was certain that I would go through all the pain that came with my parents disowning me a thousand times over, if it meant that I would be blessed with having Jake Peralta in my life when it was done.
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stronghours · 3 years ago
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THREE QUEENS OF DOMESTICITY
Ava’s husband Reuben, as Ava informed Domme Lux in the unfinished basement beforehand, had only contributed to the collaring ceremony through draping the gaping drywall with swags of lavender gauze and twinkle lights from Christmas, which blistered the fabric in a damp whimsy Lux hadn’t thought the man capable. But then, Ava said, she had never brought a boy into the household before, and she thought it was only fair to respect Reuben’s distance in the matter. Where he was, she didn’t say. Evey, one of the four usual girls, was already naked but for papery hospitality slippers and trying to tame the blank concrete with a shredded mop. She squeezed the handle to a thin, practical breast each time she lost hope. Her clavicle was tense with little red marks.
Ava sat on her own padded stool applying lotion to her arms as she held court with Lux, Celeste and other colleagues regarding the guest list and particulars. She possessed downy Marilyn Monroe skin and her expression was luminous, while Lux, simultaneously underdressed, clammy, and overheated (it was summer, high noon outside, but Halloweentown below) started to feel the depression sink in. She’d chosen to wear a sleeveless mock turtleneck cinched in via a skintight pencil skirt and knee-high chunk pumps, and it all looked charming enough to her when she texted a picture to Jules. Sexual language arts teacher or Lorelai Gilmore season 1-2? She’d typed. But Jules had been AWOL since Thursday and now Lux had no chaperone and no wisdom. Ava didn’t let it go unremarked.
“It’s June,” she informed, like Lux didn’t know. “So, he’s sucking up to his leather daddies and his drag queens, while the rest of us behave like grown-ups. Correct?”
Guests arrived. Lux decided on strategic retreat and glued her spine to a far swampy corner and gradually became happier to have interpreted the dress code on the conservative side. Ava sent out the invite via her personal newsletter, with the esoteric instruction to dress within the modes of business or pleasure and it became clear of the basement filling nobody had made a collective interpretation. Celeste, shivering underneath her partner’s bomber jacket had prevailed on a frail sundress and the man in front of Lux wore a boxy Uniqlo blazer on top and a polyester jockstrap that read PIG BOY in an eternal ring around the waist. His white ass loomed beneath her line of vision, a sobering reality check to Evey and the other girls kneeling like wraiths up front, their smudged outlines harkening more toward Salo than Ava would ever intend.
Candles were lit. Lux could not get rid of the haunted house excess bringing her mood down, even as Ava, up front on her dais and methodically strapping her bagged up new boy onto his striker frame, vamped in a costumy corset of sectional purple brocade (Jules) opera-length latex mittens (Jules) and slick black shoulder plate and hood of indeterminate material (no doubt made by an enemy of Jules), and if Jules himself would ever show up, as promised, Lux could decide what was worse: Ava mixing materials or mixing designers.
But what was worst above all, she already knew, was that three poems had already been read and Ava was reading one still. She read one stanza per one buckle. Her new boy, before being lowered into his body bag, had read one himself to clarify his submission. His face had been beaky and palling. He had flat blue eyes. She liked him much better totally hidden from view and wondered how a hardline heterosexual like Ava could entertain delicate styles in women but such insipid taste in dudes.
A ray of light split the room like a knife and vanished. A couple people moaned, blinded in one eye. The crowd to Lux’s left grunted and spat, ruffled, then parted. She didn’t notice Jules until he had a cold hand behind her neck. Even with walls on both her sides, he found a blind spot.
He stuck his tongue in her ear, knowing full well she couldn’t shout him down in this scenario. “What’s up sugar,” he said, barely acceptably hushed. “How many poems has it been?”
“And the moonrise over the hill,” Ava recited, yanking a new strap, “Rises in tune – to your mind upon my person – to your body upon my person – to your devotion to my person –”
“It’s been this one for a while,” Lux said. She grabbed him and squashed him to her side. You had to meet Jules nuisance per nuisance when he felt energetic, or he’d trample you to death. When he was overbearing, she preferred him coldhearted, and when he was frosty, she preferred him needy. It was wedding season, and he hadn’t had enough brides to wear him out. “What took you so long?”
“Stopped for food. I’ve been up for uh…thirty-six hours.”
PIG BOY’s head turned back fractionally, then he thought better of looking and faced front.
“Wedding?”
“Shereen Allure made the Miss Continental Elite lineup. She got her hooks in me. She needs an evening gown, an interview moment, talent outfit that’ll stay together through the twenty fucking backflips I know she’ll want to do – baby, sweetie, honey, let me just stone you a fucking leotard, but no, she wants everything to sweep the toes. Insanity.” Jules craned his head around PIG BOY’s shoulder, and, seeing the wild look on his face, she wormed her hand underneath his shirt and pinched his ribs before he could think of speaking above sotto voice.
“Work function,” she warned. “Work function!”
“I wouldn’t go to my boss’s wedding,” Jules said, but he shriveled back into her shoulder obediently. “Gross. What’s she wearing?”
“A couple things of yours.”
“Against medical advice.”
Ava’s boy was buckled in midway up his ribs. They had to last to the neck. Somebody close to the front of the house darted forward to re-light the tea candles extinguished in their little glasses, scattered among Ava’s stilts. Lux thought: Suck-up.
“Cocksucker,” Jules hissed into her neck.
Profound is your sacred neck –
Ava claimed.
And affectionate, my lips, on its nape –
The boy in the bag didn’t judder or wince or squirm or move an inch. If Lux hadn’t been around to watch him step inside it, she would have considered him a mannequin. More guests arrived, fashionably late, and she and Jules alternately jostled the roach hotel between her ankles as they bandied to stay upright. PIG BOY had enough of them and forced his way further into crowd.
“What’s his name, anyway?” Jules asked, of bag-boy.
“Shawn. Mark. Uh…Jake.”
“Fucking John Donne up there has a boner for a goddamn Cody.” Jules wiped his nose on her shoulder. “I can’t breathe down here. Come on, ta-ta.”
The basement door opened into a little cairn staircase and led them blinking into the lawn (a lawn!) a black walnut tree dripping with green baubles (a tree!). Jules assisted her over the porch railing (a porch!) and spanked the dust from the seat of her skirt. They entered the gleaming kitchen, already occupied by Ava and Rueben’s straightest friends who, thin-lipped, met their sangrias with unenthusiasm.
“One thing I will say for Ava,” said a woman wearing a mock turtleneck similar to Lux’s own, “She certainly has…flair.”
A man turned to Jules and asked, helplessly, how long these things lasted. The preliminaries, Jules asked, or the mingling, or the primary ceremony, or the potluck or the afterparty? And while he laid out the etiquette Lux stared at the dustless countertops and the seafoam green cabinets, smooth to the touch, and their silver handles and the tile floor and the padded breakfast nook with its stained glass overhead light and the jazzy track lights situated over the looming kitchen island. Lysol lingered underneath the tawny fumes of a candle labeled CARMEL TRUFFLE SUNDAE and the photo pasted to the candle, she was ashamed to say, made her hungry. A kitchen-aide, which Lux had seen featured in some of Ava’s private photoshoots, gleamed, an untouchable ruby atop a mounted wall cabinet.
Jules’s conversation partner said he had tried to muscle through the ceremony but one of Ava’s slaves (the man himself hedged, politely, and referred to her as Ava’s housemaid) had accidentally brushed him with her nude bosom and he thought, well, better safe than sorry and beat it to safer pastures. “I don’t want to get her in trouble,” he claimed. The sangria was doing nothing to free him from this downward spiral of nakedness.
The mock turtleneck woman held the pitcher out to Lux for a sniff. “It’s virgin,” she pronounced, disgusted.
Jules shifted his backpack into the nook. He removed a pair of purple Easy Spirit pumps, a wad of pantyhose cut off at the thigh, two rolls of duct tape, a greasy paper bag from a Vienna Sausage, a Ziplock of loose bronze eyelets, a lacy bridal bralette and ouvert panty set Lux thought she had permanently lost and finally a half-empty bottle of white rum, which he handed around.
“She and Reuben,” the mock turtleneck woman confided, tit for tat, “Had two cash bars at their wedding.”
“I get it’s a private residence,” the man continued, wide eyed, as he tilted the bottle drop by tiny drop into his cup. “But is the nudity like – mandatory?”
“Don’t be shy,” Jules suggested, happy in his eternal revolving door from Bitch to Hostess. “Really tip that bad boy in there.”
The man turned on Lux, aghast. “Mandatory nudity?”
“Jules,” she said. “Bathroom escort, please.”
The floors were fake grey wood and if they’d been in socks, they would have slipped and slid like newborn colts through a framed gauntlet of Ava and Reuben’s documented civilian life. On the right, a picture of Reuben T-posing against the horizon of the Grand Canyon. On the left, Ava’s Reiki Master III certificate from Sat Nam. A family reunion and matching T-shirts (Ava’s side of the family). A newlywed embrace at the foot of an anonymous waterfall in the Upper Peninsula. She’d seen all this before, well acquainted with the ground floor of Ava’s house, but now she wondered if Zach-Cody-Jake-Shawn, petrified below her feet, was feeling the weight of the roof on his chest like she felt.
Jules, on his own agenda, bypassed the bathroom door which was modestly shut and tugged her toward the staircase.
“Oh shush,” she warned preemptively. “We’re not allowed!” They’d never been upstairs before.
“What? They don’t have a bathroom up there?”
“She’ll know,” Lux said as they tiptoed upward. She imagined their footfalls pounding through the ceiling of the basement and Ava, coolly, directing her eyes toward the ceiling and right up Lux’s skirt.
“If you quit being so aware of her, she wouldn’t be aware of you,” Jules counseled.
Every door upstairs was closed, sanded and paper-smooth and plumbed correctly in their jambs. Her apartment had more in common with Ava’s basement. Melancholy prevented her from noticing Jules bypassing the obvious bathroom door where the shadow of a jailed cat paced and opening another. It was Ava’s and Rueben's bedroom.
“Uh-oh,” Jules said. “What an honest mistake.”
 “Stop, stop, stop,” she begged, dancing backward, but the arrested step of somebody entering the downstairs hallway had her shoving him inside. Jules grabbed her wrist before she could slam the door shut in panic and guided it closed himself, soundlessly.
“Somebody’s coming!” She hissed.
           “Nobody’s coming,” he said. “Not upstairs, at least.”
           Next door, the cat mewed piteously.
           The bedroom, to her surprise, held no accoutrements of Ava’s work at the club, not a stocking on the ground or a corset thrown over the back of a chair. The only suggestion of her taste for grandeur Lux recognized was the four-poster bed and the plum carpet. Even the makeup mirror standing up on the desk was just an electric plastic-framed Conair. The same kind Lux, at 14, had hidden underneath her bed.
Jules touched one of the bedposts. “You think she ever spread-eagles ol’ Rueben on these babies?”
Reuben worked in software. He had a crew cut, no distinguishing features, and upper veneers. When grouped together, he referred to all of Ava’s dommes as you kids. Alone, he called Lux Little Lady and Jules Hey, It’s My Man! Before thumping him with lethal force between the shoulder blades. Lux didn’t want to imagine Ava and Reuben fucking in the four-poster bed. But, on contemplation, she realized it was an impossible task.
She peeked into the master bathroom long enough to confirm Ava installed a whirlpool tub. Jules had already thrown open her closet and was sifting through hangers. He stood rumpled in his flip-flops and she was worried his hands would leave marks.      
“She’ll know someone was snooping.”
“Did she ever notice when you and Celeste moved everything in the dungeon three inches to the left on April Fools?”
Lux sat gingerly on the desk chair. The Conair makeup mirror was still lit, and she checked her hairline, her face, her cleavage (she’d been paranoid for two months that she was shrinking) in the mock turtleneck. In a silver stand-frame was a black-and-white of Ava alone, on her wedding day. She posed in black-and-white before a crumbling brick wall, body positioned forward but facing right, absurdly fresh, and nearly sweet-sixteen in a sweetheart neckline and ruffled cap sleeves.
 Jules loomed like a vulture over her shoulder and judged for himself. “Not what I would have picked for her,” He decided.
But Lux couldn’t look away from the picture. Ava, pre-Entrance, pre-homeowner, pre-stable-of-subs, pre-whirlpool tub. In the sterile silence of the bedroom, she had nothing to cloud her thoughts. “Ava always knew,” she announced. “Look at her expression. She knew all along.”
“Knew what?”
“That it was always going to work out. That she was always going to lock this down.”
“Lock what down?”
Lux tried to set the picture frame exactly where she’d left it but couldn’t quite recall. She pushed Jules away from her, annoyed, and tried a different a different route. “Do you think he really loves her?”            
“Reuben?”      
 “No, Zach – Jake – Shawn – whatshisname. In the basement.”
She felt Jules descend into sulky silence, that his magpie-plan of breaking and entering was not rendering hilarious fruit. She heard the bedsprings creak and two little claps as his sandals hit the floor.
“We make fun of her,” Lux insisted. “But she’s got the husband who loves her, and four full-timers cycling in and out of this beautiful house with a beautiful tree and green grass underneath and now this new kid. He wrote her a poem. She can inspire people to do things like that.”
Jules huffed.
Lux prodded: “Remember her interview in the Reader a few Prides ago? She said she owes it all to her Unapologetic Femininity. A successful woman constantly births this psychic potential in observing bodies.”
 “He wrote a shitty villanelle and climbed into a gimp bag in front of twenty-three perverts, so Ava’ll suffocate him with her titties for three years. That’s psychic potential?”
 “And what about Carmen, and Robin, and Deanna, and Evangeline?”
“What about Analise Petro? She split from the coven pretty fucking publicly.”
“Years ago. And she was immature. You and her were the same age.” At that time, Lux hadn’t made the decision if Jules, then a furious little boy-twink, would be nemesis or pal. She’d half-believed Jules poisoned Analise against Ava on purpose.
Jules, blissfully not thirty, ignored her. “Evey is my age,” he claimed.
“Carmen is thirty-six.” Lux, thirty-two, fretted, twisted her fingers. “Think of the responsibility. It’s all in her hands and she just…molds it.”
“Because of her essential femininity? You’re out of your mind.”
Downstairs, the sliding glass door to the backyard rattled. A few hoots of laughter drifted ghostly through the walls. Then the doors rattled twice, and silence seethed.
           “They change until they stay the same,” Jules said, too self-assured for someone sylphing on a strange bedspread with dirty feet. “And they’ll stay until they go away. Right about when Ava stops making them feel safe.”
“With –?”
“With her social nets and her two-story house and her dual income,” Jules said, sitting upright.  He was all the sudden blank-faced, voice poisonous, and she wondered automatically if his mother had been calling him late in the night. “With her sex gear she commissions from me. With the soothing atmosphere that Carmen interior designs, that Robin cleans, and the fucking homemade meals with the kitchen aide that only Deanna knows how to use. And you want me to think she’s this red-hot all-natural Madonna? You know better.”
Jules was rumpled beyond repair. He wore a tank top she’d gifted for his 27th birthday. It had ITALIAN FILLY printed on the front, and already the letters were starting to peel. He glared. Lux questioned the sincerity of his anger, if he only played it up because he noticed she was too sad to dig up anger herself, anger she felt all the time when she was perfectly alone, but she decided she was too pleased being noticed at all. Maybe in half an hour, she’d be happy enough to preen.
She got up and went to him on the bed and he sat up like a human being so she could clap his face in her hands. But he wasn’t done yet.
“She’s only a woman because she’s surrounded by one hundred sycophants who let her be one,” he sneered, and she felt the little muscles in his jaw. “Sisterhood is powerful!”
She slapped him on the mouth, but only a little bit. “What does that make me?” She asked, houseless, sycophant-less, suspicious her only sisters were biological.
“A woman who doesn’t need her yeast infections to remind her that she’s a woman.” He squirmed in her grip, for her enjoyment only, and his face reddened where it usually got red, close to the ears before it began to band his big nose. It was almost enough to make her forget she was only attracted to him when he was worn down to a nub of exhaustion. Usually, he was belly-up on the floor, with one arm thrown over his eyes, and one of his wrists in his carpal tunnel brace. Something about that brace lit her ass on fire. It made her want to pull down the blinds and eat him alive through his armpit. “Are we going to do something horrible to this bedspread or what?”
“Close your eyes.” He had an insane habit of kissing with his eyes open, and even she, the honorable first girl who’d ever fucked him, hadn’t trained him out of it. “Close your eyes,” he countered, and pulled the zipper on the back of her skirt so he could pull out her turtleneck out of her waist. It jammed. They struggled.
“Suck it in,” he ordered thoughtlessly, and the second she pulled in a deep breath she every inch of him sprang, alert, into a frenzy she couldn’t understand. He caught her around the waist and rolled them both off the bed and into the space between the wall and the gap where the bedclothes hung. She was just about to shriek at him when she heard bare feet pat-pat outside the bedroom door. Jules swept her under the bed (you could stack three bodies on top of each other, under there) and followed her himself just as the door opened.
Lux curled into a little ball. Jules elected to lay flat like a tapeworm.
A woman’s voice cooed. Lux waited. Doom squeezed her heart. But the voice wasn’t Ava’s.
“Sugar-pants, sugar-pants,” the voice caroled sweetly.
Then she saw the bare feet tip-tapping over the carpet, and she clocked the voice as Evangeline’s. She had freed the cat from the bathroom, and presumably held it in her arms, sweet-talking it. Lux dared to roll over to face Jules. He pinched his nose shut against a sneeze.
“I know baby, fluffy-baby,” Evey said. The desk chair scraped when she settled down into it. “You don’t like it in there. I know. I know. No huggle-wuggles for baby in there. You’re claustrophobic. So am I! Ugh!”
Evey gagged. She sobbed wretchedly for five whole minutes (Lux counted). The cat’s purr reached torrential volumes of pleasure. Near the end she reached for Jules’s hand, and they lay, foreheads together, too shy to look each other in the eye as Evey opened a drawer somewhere for tissues and was paralyzed by an attack of hiccups. Lux had to put all her muscle into not echoing her in sympathy.
Evey muttered to herself. “I’m claustrophobic, so I can’t let Her put me in the bag. If I can’t go in the bag, then I don’t get a poem.”
Click. Tap. Click. The drawer shutting. The lights of the makeup mirror turning off.
“I don’t get a poem,” Evey asserted. “I don’t get a poem.” And lower – “I’m not allowed to have a poem. I can’t have a poem. Or a tattoo.”
The cat gurgled.
Evey fled, down the hall, where a door slammed. Then, as if to fix the breach of discipline, the door opened again, and was closed so quietly Lux wasn’t sure it was closed at all.
She and Jules waited, then parted and unearthed themselves on either side of the bed. Jules zipped her skirt and together they patted down the bedspread. He had the faraway look in his eye he usually had when he was thinking about pattern-drafting and Lux replayed in her brain Evey’s Ugh! She wondered if one of her clients had ever gone home, away from her, looked in their bathroom mirror, stuck out their tongue and gone Ugh!
“Come on,” Jules said. The cat, abandoned again, eyed him from the desk chair. “Let’s go down and pay our respects to King Tut.”
And to the cat: “What the fuck are you looking at?”
If he’d acted smug at having his cynicism proven, she might have hit him for real. She’d hit him for real – which in their shared experience, meant purely out of anger – twice. The first time he’d deserved it. The second time he punished her, said she hit like a nelly fag and blocked her phone number for a month. Then he reemerged as swiftly as he’d removed himself, but pointedly, with an uncharacteristically physically proximate boyfriend who lasted exactly three months. She considered that his way of informing her she had been on probation.
“I’m lonely,” she said, because that was the problem.
“I’m literally right here, idiot.”
But when they reached the staircase the noise of the swelling party in the kitchen reached their ears. They decided to go down separately, for the sake of modesty, and Jules went first. He kissed her ear, conciliatory, and she watched the high yoke of his shoulders descend until she was alone again.
Who needed it, she thought, the fifteen-dollar candles and the floors constructed so they do not have to be waxed, the fleet of morose women and the sexless men? Years ago, she’d walked into Jules’s squalid, long-gone basement apartment with a frayed leather harness and been shocked at the sight of the missing Analise Petro sleeping on his futon. Split by her own precarious position in Ava’s club at the time, she’d whipped out her phone, as if to rat them both out then and there. Jules never even looked up from the dress form he was taping.
He asked: What do you give a cunt to convince her a community matter is a private matter?
He clipped off the tape with scissors longer than his hand.
A house!
Lux wanted a house. She wanted to jam her hooks into a hunk with big delts, and huge tits, and chain him up under the bed, somebody the opposite of Jules in every way, and she wanted to bake a successful quiche and she wanted, most of all, her and her sisters’ beloved childhood mutt Chessie, who had leapt off the family pontoon one 4th of July weekend on Indian Lake to his idiot death, to be revived and come trotting up the staircase and into her arms, panting with joy, not because he had been resurrected, but because he loved her best of all.
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xtruss · 3 years ago
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Who Are the Taliban and What Is Their Goal?
— By Soo Kim | 8/19/21 | Newsweek
Fears over the future of Afghanistan following renewed Taliban rule has seen swarms of Afghans make desperate attempts to flee the country.
The militant group, who ruled Afghanistan in the late 1990s under a narrow interpretation of Islamic Sharia law, regained control of the country two weeks before the U.S. was scheduled to fully withdraw its troops, who have been there since 2001.
During a press conference on August 17, Zabihullah Mujahid, the Taliban's longtime spokesperson, vowed the country would forgive those who fought against them previously and would respect women's rights under the new era of Taliban rule.
A statement published on the official website of the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan (IEA) on August 15, said: "The Islamic Emirate once again assures all its citizens that it will, as always, protect their life, property and honor and create a peaceful and secure environment for its beloved nation. In this regard, no one should worry about their life."
Here, we take a closer look at the history of the Taliban and its latest developments.
Who Are the Taliban?
In Pashto, the national language of Afghanistan, the word "Taliban" means "students."
The militant group was formed of Islamic guerilla fighters known as the mujahideen, who resisted the Soviet occupation between the years 1979-89. Founded by Mullah Mohammad Omar, an imam from Kandahar, in 1994, the group had the covert backing of the CIA and its Pakistani counterpart, the Inter-Services Intelligence directorate (ISI).
The Afghan mujahideen were joined by younger Pashtun tribesmen who studied in Pakistani madrassas (or seminaries). Pashtuns are the predominant ethnic group in much of the south and east of Afghanistan. They are also a major ethnic group in Pakistan's north and west.
The Taliban found a foothold in southern Afghanistan and consolidated their strength in the region.
The Council on Foreign Relations explains the group gained support at the start of the post-Soviet era with the promise of establishing stability following the years of conflict from 1992 to 1996 among rival mujahideen groups.
The Taliban provided a safe haven for al-Qaeda in the years leading up to the 11 September 2001 attacks in the U.S. The group provided a base in which al-Qaeda "could freely recruit, train, and deploy terrorists to other countries," the U.S. National Counterterrorism Center (NCTC) explains.
The Taliban maintained control of Afghanistan until October 2001 when a U.S.-led campaign against al-Qaeda ousted them from power.
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Taliban fighters standing guard at an entrance gate outside the Interior Ministry in Kabul, Afghanistan on August 17. Javed Tanveer / AFP Via Getty Images
What Is the Goal of the Taliban?
Speaking to Newsweek, Dr. Thomas Barfield, the author of Afghanistan: A Cultural and Political History, said: "They [the Taliban] want to rule an Islamic State in Afghanistan using conservative rules, I do not believe that [they] have an ultimate goal beyond that."
The author, who is also a professor of anthropology and the director of the Institute for the Study of Muslim Societies and Civilizations at Boston University, told Newsweek "everyone's watching to see" if the new regime's promises will prove to be true, but "they are different and are taking public stances very different from the 1990s."
"In practical terms they cannot govern without the cooperation of the government employees and groups that provide services (medical, humanitarian, etc,). The Kabul they ruled in the 1990s was a ruined city with no functioning government or infrastructure with a few hundred thousand people.
"Now it is a city of five million that expects a government not only to provide security but delivers services. The Taliban have no means of doing this without reaching out to their former enemies," Barfield explained.
The Taliban Regime in Late 1990s
By 1994, the Taliban had moved through the south and captured several provinces after the Soviet-backed Afghan government fell in 1992. By September 1996, the group seized the Afghan capital of Kabul, killed the country's president and established the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan.
The Taliban's first move after taking control in the late 1990s was to implement "a strict interpretation of Qur'anic instruction and jurisprudence," which in practice entailed "often merciless policies on the treatment of women, political opponents of any type, and religious minorities," the NCTC says.
According to a November 2001 report released by the Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights and Labor of the U.S. Department of State, the country under strict Taliban rule in the late 1990s had "one of the worst human rights records in the world."
The regime at the time "systematically repressed all sectors of the population and denied even the most basic individual rights" and its "war against women was particularly appalling," the state report says.
Another report carried out report by the Human Rights Watch (HRW) in June 2020 said the oppression at the time also entailed "cruel corporal punishments, including executions; and extreme suppression of freedom of religion, expression, and education."
Severe restrictions were placed on Afghan women's access to work, education and health care, as well as on their physical movements and dress code, which required them to be covered under a burqa, a garment that covers the body and face.
Women were only allowed to be out in public when accompanied by male relatives or risk beatings by the Taliban.
"Women were stripped of their dignity under the Taliban. They were made unable to support their families. Girls were deprived of basic health care and of any semblance of schooling. They were even deprived of their childhood under a regime that took away their songs, their dolls, and their stuffed animals—all banned by the Taliban.
"The Taliban perpetrated egregious acts of violence against women, including rape, abduction, and forced marriage. Some families resorted to sending their daughters to Pakistan or Iran to protect them," the 2001 report said.
Promises of Peace and Protection Under the New Taliban
The August 15 statement published at the website of the IEA claimed: "All those who have previously worked and helped the invaders, or are now standing in the ranks of the corrupt Administration of Kabul, the Islamic Emirate has opened its door for them and have announced for them amnesty. We once again invite them all to come and to serve the nation and the country.
"In areas which are under the control of the Islamic Emirate, people should lead a normal life, especially in the official arena, whether it is educational, healthy, social or cultural," the statement said.
The IEA stated on August 15: "No one should leave their area and country. They shall live a normal life; our nation and country need services, and Afghanistan is our joint home that we will build and serve together."
The Associated Press reported that under the latest Taliban rule women have been encouraged to return to work. A female news anchor interviewed a Taliban official in a television studio on August 16. Elsewhere, girls were allowed to return to school and handed Islamic headscarves at the door.
According to AP, at the August 17 press conference, Taliban spokesperson Mujahid promised the Taliban would honor women's rights within the norms of Islamic law, though he failed to rule out cutting off hands as feet as punishment, as was the method used during the group's first rule.
Mujahid stated on August 17 that the Taliban were granting amnesty for former soldiers as well as for contractors and translators who worked for international forces. He said the Taliban will not seek retribution against ex-soldiers and government officials, Reuters reported,
"Nobody will go to their doors to ask why they helped," Mujahid said at the August 17 news briefing.
According to Reuters, he also claimed that day that "nobody is going to harm you, nobody is going to knock on your doors," noting there was a "huge difference" between the Taliban now and that which ruled 20 years ago.
The AP reported the Taliban spokesperson also said that private media should "remain independent" but that journalists "should not work against national values," at the August 17 news briefing.
India's NDTV reported Mujahid said: "We have three suggestions: No broadcast should contradict Islamic values, they should be impartial, no one should broadcast anything that goes against our national interests," at the August 17 press conference.
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Taliban spokesperson Zabihullah Mujahid (left) speaking during a press conference in Kabul, Afghanistan on August 17. Hoshang Hashimi/AFP Via Getty Images
Despite Mujahid's reassurances, fears remain in Kabul after prisons and armories emptied out during the insurgents' sweep across the country.
AP reported on August 18 that residents in the capital have claimed armed men have been going door-to-door in search of those who worked with the ousted government and security forces, but it was unknown whether the gunmen were Taliban or criminals posing as militants.
Mujahid claimed the Taliban only entered the capital in order to restore law and order after the police presence was diminished, and blamed the breakdown of security in the city on the former government.
An unnamed Taliban official told Reuters that the group's leaders will also show themselves publicly rather than live in secret, as they had done previously.
They said: "Slowly, gradually, the world will see all our leaders, there will be no shadow of secrecy."
In the wake of the Taliban's latest advance, one of the group's leaders and co-founders, Mullah Abdul Ghani Baradar, returned to the country after a 20-year exile.
U.S. national security adviser Jake Sullivan said both the U.S. and other countries are not expected to take the Taliban at their word when it comes to their vows to respect women's rights.
Sullivan explained at the White House briefing: "Like I've said all along, this is not about trust. This is about verify. And we'll see what the Taliban end up doing in the days and weeks ahead, and when I say we, I mean the entire international community."
Will the Taliban Invade Other Countries?
The IEA stated on August 15: "Once again, we assure all our neighbors that we will not create any problems for them, they should thereby have confidence."
This was reiterated by Taliban spokesperson Mujahid, who told reporters: "We don't want any internal or external enemies."
India's NDTV reported Mujahid said: "The Islamic emirate is pledging to all world countries that no threat will be posed to any country from Afghanistan."
"We want to establish a government that includes all sides," the Taliban spokesperson said on August 17, adding that they want an end to the war.
Boston University professor Barfield doesn't believe the Taliban will invade other countries.
He told Newsweek: "Even in the 1990s the Taliban were focused only on Afghanistan."
"Some of their foreign allies like al Qaeda or the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan, the Pakistani Taliban do however seek to move beyond Afghanistan," Barfield explained.
Newsweek has contacted Taliban spokespersons Mujahid, Suhail Shaheen, Dr. Mohammad Naeem and Qari Yousaf Ahmadi for comment.
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rossodelgiorno · 4 years ago
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2020/ Chain of Fools
2020 was the year I adopted a boiler suit and gas mask as a daily uniform. The world had gone into a global lockdown to combat the COVID19 virus which meant we were only allowed to leave our house for essential reasons such as grocery shopping and exercise. When outside, we were government mandated to wear face masks to prevent the spread of the disease. They made me feel like a muzzled dog and I resented no longer being able to smile with strangers on the street. Feeling like a prisoner in his own home and under extreme stress from job insecurity, my boyfriend Jake’s amphetamine addiction began to spiral out of control.
As a result of Jake’s addiction, we had accidentally befriended a posse of drug dealers and prostitutes- bonded by our love of having a good time and a general disregard for consequence. We met Dani through a call girl friend of mine who had realised the difficulty of making a living through writing online fashion content. Dani had big brown eyes, fat, botoxed lips and dressed only in high end labels like Gucci and Balmain. Born into a wealthy family, she had acquired a taste for expensive things but lacked the work ethic to maintain this taste without selling her body for sex. Dani began to visit more throughout the lockdown to deliver Jake drugs, hidden in a bag of a groceries. One night, she played Carole King on our old vinyl player, while Jake rolled us a joint to share. I flirted with them both, knowing that it would lead to a threesome. We smoked Jake’s joint, snorted lines of cocaine off each other and then took turns going down on each other.
A week later, Dani introduced us to a crew of “script kiddies”- long haired, internet hackers with a love of mumble rap, cryptocurrency and ketamine. I made cocktails for everyone and established that one of these kids shared a mutual friend with Jake. They seemed fascinated by the genuine sexual chemistry between myself, Jake and Dani and expressed gratitude for our generous hospitality. Eventually I came to the conclusion that by associating us with this crowd, Dani had managed to successfully pray on the vulnerable- trusting junkies like us who were lax with internet security and keen for a good time. In retrospect, I wish I had known that Dani was a hustler at heart- making money in any way she could without considering the impact of her choices. At the time however, I felt like we were fully living life in the moment- something I was certain would bring me happiness, meaning and didn’t question her motives for a moment.
Ella, Dani’s best friend, had a boyish pixie cut, high cheekbones and was tall and slim. She had gradually joined in on our shenanigans, along with Mark, a dealer with a steady supply of the best gear available north of the river. We all hung out together in our plant-filled, converted warehouse listening to electronic music and sharing stories about our favourite mind-altering substances. My stories were consistently focused on MDMA. As a notoriously private person, I’d discovered MDMA helped me open up and allowed me to dance, free of fear of judgement. It had also helped Jake open up about the sexual abuse he experienced as child, a fact I doubted would have ever come up without the influence of a truth serum and something which I was certain had driven him to substance abuse in the first place.
While we laughed, chatted and danced with Dani and Mark, Ella, who claimed to be a part time poet and part-time model, entered a viral script virus onto our wireless network by requesting our wifi password. Something we provided willingly, without second thought. This meant remote access to every digital device we owned and access to all stored personal information including scanned copies of our passports and birth certificates.
The issue with Mark, despite his criminal lifestyle, was that he was excellent company. Intelligent, engaging and a DJ in his spare time- we thrived off his love of hip hop and old-school funk. Similarly, he thrived off our property location in the Inner North- close to his regular customers and discrete enough from the prying eyes of authority. We welcomed him into our home with open arms, deprived of social contact through social distancing practices enforced by the pandemic. We held COVID19 illegal gatherings where we got high off Mark’s supply, enjoyed each other’s company while Ella hacked our electronic identities. When you’re lonely, it doesn’t really matter if others are using you and you’re using them. As long as everyone is filling a clearly defined role, the maladaptive social ecosystem continues to function.
It’s unclear exactly how many international drug smuggling routes were established using our stolen online identities before Jake clued on that something wasn’t right. He told me that he had been locked out of his email account, that the speed of his phone had slowed and that he could hear clicking noises during his phone calls. He was certain that his was a breach of online security and started to question the motives of our new friends. I wrote him off as crazy, blaming his excessive use of amphetamines and the psychological effect of social isolation. I was determined to keep my online identity public, obsessed by the idea of becoming the next millennial therapist and too blinded by Dani’s beauty to believe that she would want to harm us in any way.
Eventually Jake’s distress became too extreme to ignore and he shook me violently one night, yelling at me to believe what I had assumed was a paranoid conspiracy theory. A sinking feeling in my gut became apparent when he started to coherently piece together his concerns about his online security issues. I realized that my sense of reality had been clouded by my lust for Dani and by a dark depression that had developed through my work as an essential worker during a pandemic. Based on Jake’s erratic behaviour, I knew we had to get out of the warehouse immediately, but I had no idea where to go and was fearful of drawing attention to any law-breaking activity when police presence was so prominent.
We agreed to seek refuge with our friends Trish and Rick, former 90s British ravers who had channeled their drug-fuelled benders into successful and respectable careers. I called them panicked that night, shaking and rambling about what had happened. Without hesitancy, Trish told us to come over right away. Rick’s brother back in the UK had recently killed himself and they were struggling too. Trish and Rick lived in an affluent area in the inner East which meant we needed to blend in quickly through a disguise of expensive athleisure and an almost painful sense of normality. It appeared that our efforts at disguise were successful and it seemed to result in freedom from any unusual online activity on our devices. We bought new phones, changed our phone numbers, email addresses and disconnected from the outside world for an entire week. We spoke about going to the police, however we both agreed that this would place us at too much risk to the criminal world to be a viable option.
When your online identity is stolen, you quickly start to daydream what it would be like to steal someone else’s identity. For example, what exactly would you do with those proceeds of crime? Which tropical island would you escape to, what designer clothes would you wear, which car would you drive? I quickly became entranced and jealous at the thought of this fantasy life, but then spent time reflecting on my own morality and these feelings subsided. Instead, an intense anger developed at the thought of others taking advantage of Jake and his mental illness. High on a sense of ethical superiority and new found fury, I decided to employ my favourite psychological defense mechanism, repression, to cope with my latest traumas. May you rest in peace, memory, I said to myself before engaging in my daily mediation ritual.
While repressing my consciousness, I also began to focus on the importance of social support. I knew this shit was important but didn’t fully understand until Trish brushed my hair one night, my arms too frail from fear and stress to function. Trish and Rick played familiar Britpop, drank tea and encouraged us to embrace the therapeutic benefits of music through use of the guitar and keyboard that we had brought to their house. We took turns cooking for each other, played board games and counselled each other through each personal problems, one at a time.
Jake and I stayed with Trish and Rick for two weeks until we could establish an exit plan from the city. We migrated to rural Victoria like many other Melbournians, traumatized by the lockdown. The pace in the country was slow yet calming and people genuinely seemed to care about your welfare when they inquired “How you going, mate?” After such an extended period of social isolation, many of us forgot how to interact with others. We valued and craved human connection more than ever, and yet we seemed scared of what we might connect with. We continued to develop our own deformed version of sign language to communicate through the face masks and focused on re-developing social skills that had been lost through extended disconnection.
Jake and I continued to battle through the challenges of online identity theft and the consequences of his addiction issues. Jake’s substance use had subsided substantially without the influence of Mark and Dani and we eventually adjusted to living normal, routine driven lifestyles. He had cycled through periods of problematic use before, however I still felt somewhat shell shocked by the intensity of his most recent relapse. However, one day late in December I found myself wandering through the tranquility of the Otways, fully freed from the constraints of the lockdown which had finally lifted and contemplating my progress in life since leaving this place as a teenager. The rainforest sounds were vivid and the smells of the ocean salty in my nostrils. I wasn’t where I had planned to end the year 2020, but I was alive and I had Jake. And for that, I felt eternally grateful.
Rosso Del Giorno
Your journey starts here.
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abusybuzzingbee · 5 years ago
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Dead in the Water | Supernatural Season 1 Episode 3 Rewrite | Dean x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Major Character: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester
Warnings: Canon level violence, language, Dean and the reader being assholes to each other
Word Count: 9,161
Summary: Dean and the reader still do not get along, but they slowly begin making progress toward a healthier relationship in a town threatened by a lake-dwelling supernatural creature.
Series Rewrite Masterlist
Season 1 Masterlist
Click here for the series playlist!
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You were sat inside of a diner across from Dean, munching on the last of your fries as he circled names in an obituary. Sam had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and you and Dean refused to speak to each other unless it was to start a petty fight. 
The pretty blonde waitress returned, leaning over the table and showing off her boobs. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked Dean. 
You looked over at him as he grinned around the pen he was chewing on.
You suppressed an eye roll, addressing the waitress. “Just the check, please.”
“Okay,” she smiled at you, glancing over at Dean once more. The waitress strutted away, and Dean dropped his head down before looking over at you. 
“You know, (Y/N), we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” He pointed at the waitress as she walked into the kitchen, “That's fun.”
“You can have fun when we find your dad.” 
Dean went to say something back to you, but Sam sat down and effectively cut the conversation short.
“Hey,” he said. “What’d I miss?”
“Just your brother trying to pick up our waitress,” you stated, glaring pointedly at Dean. 
“Can it, (Y/N).” He put the newspaper in front of Sam. “Take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin.” He pointed to the obituary he had circled in the paper. “Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.”
“A funeral?” Sam questioned.
“Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure, or whatever,” the older of the two shrugged.
“Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.”
Dean’s expression hardened. He squared his shoulders and leaned forward on his forearms on the table. “Something you want to say to me?”
You took a sip of your drink, eyes widening as you looked down and to the side of you, feeling pretty awkward. 
“The trail for Dad,” Sam started, “It's getting colder every day.”
Dean sighed. “Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?”
“I don't know. Something. Anything.”
“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude.” Dean’s tone was harsh as he spoke. “You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?”
“Yeah, I know you do, it's just—”
Dean cut his younger brother off. “I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?”
Sam rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he did so. 
The waitress walked past again, effectively distracting Dean from his anger toward Sam. His gaze was focused right on her ass.
You scoffed and snapped your fingers a mere inch in front of his face.
He jerked back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. “What was that for?!”
“For focusing on getting your dick wet instead of the task at hand,” you replied. 
Dean went to shoot something back at you, but Sam was quick to jump in. “Alright--” he directed his next question at Dean, “--Lake Manitoc, how far?”
***
The car rides between hunts were the only things in your life that resembled “normal.” They were an opportunity for you to get to know the boys better, even if Sam was the only one who talked to you. 
“Sam, you cannot look me in the eyes and say Clueless is a bad movie.” You crossed your arms over your chest. You were sitting behind Dean’s seat facing Sam with your right leg up on the seat to look at the boy a little better. 
“I just did. So, ha,” he quipped lightheartedly. “I mean, it’s borderline incest, (Y/N/N).”
It made you happy that Sam had given you a nickname.
“Not really. They weren’t blood-related,” you shrugged.  “Sure, the relationship’s a little weird, but it’s part of the comedy of the movie.”
“Agree to disagree,” Sam chuckled.
“Sure.”
“You ladies done with the chick flicks?” Dean questioned. 
“I guess we are now,” you retorted. “Why?”
“Because we’re here,” he informed you as the Impala pulled up in front of a lake house. 
“Oh, would ya look at that,” you commented.
You got out of the car and headed up the painted green steps leading to the house. The wooden stair boards creaked beneath your boots as you walked. Dean knocked on the door of the house and was greeted by a man that looked to be about your age standing there.
“Will Carlton?” Dean questioned the young man.
“Yeah, that's right.”
“I'm Agent Ford,” the older Winchester started. “This is Agent Hamil--” he gestured to Sam, “Agent Fisher--” he gestured to you, “We're with the US Wildlife Service.” He held his fake badge up for Will to see. “Can we ask you a couple questions? Maybe see the spot where your sister went down?”
“Sure,” Will nodded. He led you and the boys down to the edge of the water. “She was about a hundred yards out.” He pointed at a spot far out into the lake. “That's where she got dragged down.”
“And you're sure she didn't just drown?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer,” Will answered. “She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”
The older man sitting on a bench on the wooden dock that jutted out into the lake grabbed your attention. The following interrogation was just background noise to you as you studied the man’s slumped over form. 
“So no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam piped up.
“No, that's what I'm telling you.”
“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?”
“No. Again, she was really far out there.”
“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?”
“No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?”
“We'll let you know as soon as we do,” you heard Dean say. You sucked in a breath when Dean suddenly yanked on your arm to get you to follow him to the car.
“What was that for?” you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip.
“You wanna stop creeping on the old man and focus on the case?”
“I wasn’t creeping on him,” you replied.
“Yeah? Well, then what were you doing?”
“Just... thinking,” you answered. 
“You can think when we’re not in the middle of talkin’ to a witness,” he told you.
“Are you that much of a control freak that I can’t think when I want to?” you asked incredulously. “Grow up.”
Dean opened his mouth to say something back to you, but Sam cut him off in an attempt to stop a fight from happening in front of the Carltons. “Okay, so. Can’t talk to Mr. Carlton.“
“Okay...” you trailed off, “So our best bet is the police station, then.”
***
The sheriff, whose name you found out was Jake, walked out from behind the desk in the police station’s lobby as he addressed you and the boys. “Now, I’m sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?”
“You sure it's accidental?” Sam challenged. “Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.”
Jake led you and the Winchesters into his office. “Like what?” He motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Here, sit, please.”
You took a seat in one of the chairs and Dean sat in the other. Sam leaned on the back of your chair as the sheriff continued to speak.
“There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.”
“Yeah, Dean laughed, “Right.”
“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still--” Jake sat down behind his cluttered desk, leaning forward on it on his forearms, “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”
“That's weird, though,” the older Winchester noted, “I mean, that's, that's the third missing body this year.”
“I know,” Jake started, “These are people from my town. These are people I care about.”
“I know,” Dean told him.
“Anyway,” the sheriff sighed, “All this...it won't be a problem much longer.”
“What do you mean?” Dean questioned.
“Well, the dam, of course,” Jake stated as if it were obvious.
“Of course, the dam. It's, uh,” Dean stuttered awkwardly, “it sprung a leak.”
‘This dumbass,’ you thought.
“No, it’s falling apart, remember? The feds won’t give us the money to fix it, so they opened the spillway,” you told him. 
“It’s good to see somebody does their research,” the sheriff commented. “As Federal Wildlife, you should already know that.”
“Mm-hmm,” you hummed.
A few quiet knocks on the door drew your attention behind you.
A pretty brunette walked into the office. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”
You and Dean stood up, facing the young woman.
“I can come back later,” she said, turning to leave.
Jake’s voice stopped her movements as he stood up as well. “Gentlemen-- and lady-- this is my daughter.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you,” the older Winchester smirked.
‘Oh, this asshole’s making his voice deeper.’
“I'm Dean.” He shook the woman’s hand.
“Andrea Barr,” she smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“They're from the Wildlife Service,” her father interjected. “About the lake.”
“Oh.”
A little boy with shaggy, copper-colored hair walked out from behind Andrea, his head down low.
“Oh, hey there,” Dean grinned. “What's your name?”
Lucas looked up at Dean with sad eyes before turning and walking out of the room without saying a word. Andrea looked at Dean apologetically before following who you assumed was her son out of the room.
“His name is Lucas,” Jake answered for the boy. 
You watched as Andrea gave Lucas a box of crayons and ran her hand over his hair. 
“Is he okay?” Sam asked.
“My grandson's been through a lot. We all have,” the older man admitted. He went and stood by the entrance to the office, turning to face you and the boys. “Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.” He led the three of you out of the office.
You thanked the sheriff.
Dean looked at the sheriff as he began to talk.“You know, now that you mentioned it--”
‘Oh, boy.’
He directed his attention toward Andrea, “--could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?”
“Lakefront Motel,” she told him. “Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south.”
“Two—” He pretended to be confused. “Would you mind showing us?”
Andrea laughed. “You want me to walk you two blocks?”
“Not if it's any trouble,” Dean stated, his smile bright.
‘Is he for real?’
“I'm headed that way anyway,” she shrugged. She told her father she would be back to pick up Lucas at three and told Lucas that she would take him to the park before leaving with you and the boys. 
“Thanks again,” Sam nodded at Jake as he followed Andrea out of the station. 
You and Sam stayed a few paces back from Dean and Andrea as he attempted to charm the brunette. You and Sam both wanted the pavement to swallow you whole.
“So, cute kid,” you heard Dean tell her. 
“Thanks,” she replied.
‘Short, to the point, not taking any of his crap,’ you thought. ‘I like her.’
“Kids are the best, huh?” the older Winchester tried again.
Andrea glanced back at him over her shoulder, shaking her head with a smile on her face as she continued walking.
She stopped in front of a place that said “Lakefront Motel” in bold, white letters, contrasting with the red background the words were placed upon. “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.”
Sam thanked her.
She turned to address Dean. “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” She walked away, calling back over her shoulder, “Enjoy your stay!”
You let the laugh you were trying to suppress burst out of your lips. “I love her!”
“‘Kids are the best'? You don't even like kids,” Sam pointed out. 
“I love kids!” his older brother argued. 
“Name three children that you even know,” Sam deadpanned.
Dean paused to think for a moment but came up empty. You waved your hands at him in a shooing motion before walking toward the motel with Sam.
“I’m thinking!” he called after the two of you.
“Have fun going to get the car, dumbass!” you called back to Dean as his younger brother chuckled.
“We seriously just walked two blocks and left the car at the fucking police station all so Dean could try to hook up with the hot mom,” you sighed, shaking your head. 
***
You and the boys had gone to your separate motel rooms to unpack once Dean had grabbed your bags--well, his and Sam’s, making you go out to the Impala to get your own. 
Sam told you that he and Dean were going to take some time to unpack and the three of you would meet up again later. You were never one for unpacking your duffel bag on hunts since you would not be staying in one location for very long. Instead, you took the downtime you had been given to do some research.
You pulled your laptop along with a few other items out of your bag before flopping down onto the flimsy mattress and kicking your combat boots off. As you blew out a puff of air, you opened your laptop to The Lake Manitoc Tribune’s browser page. You scrolled through article after article on the drownings in the town. One article, in particular, caught your attention. The headline read “Local Man in Tragic Accident” with the story of a man named Christopher Barr written below. 
‘Christopher Barr... as in Andrea Barr?’
Your question was answered when you scrolled a little way down the page to see a picture of a soaking wet and seemingly traumatized Lucas wrapped in a towel. He was standing next to a policeman who you assumed was Lucas’s grandfather. 
You read the article in full detail. It told the story of how Lucas and his father were out swimming in the lake when Christopher was pulled beneath the surface of the water. Lucas was floating on a nearby wooden platform at the time of his father’s drowning. Two hours later, Lucas was rescued. 
‘That poor thing...’
You were no stranger to witnessing the death of a parent, so you knew how hard it must have been for Lucas. You had been older than Lucas was when you witnessed the deaths of your parents, so you could only imagine how crushed you would have been had you been as young as he was. 
As far as you could tell from reading through loads of articles, Lucas was the only eyewitness to see whatever creature you were dealing with. This struck you as peculiar since there were so many accounts of other lake monster sighting, making you believe you were not dealing with something corporeal. 
You heard a knock on the door moments later, and you opened it to find Sam standing there. You invited him into your room, and the two of you sat at the small table by the window of the room to talk. 
“So,” he started, “we figured out what’s up with Lucas.”
“Yeah, I did too,” you responded. “That poor kid.”
“Yeah...” he trailed off, shaking his head. 
“Where’s Dean?”
“Back in our room. He’s still unpacking.”
“Jesus, how much shit does he carry around with him? He’s been unpacking for, like, forty-five minutes,” you scoffed.
“He’s slow,” Sam chuckled.
“Yeah, so I’ve gathered,” you retorted. “Oh, hey, since Lucas is the only eyewitness, we should probably try to talk to him. Andrea said she was gonna take him to the park at three back at the station. Should we go try to catch ‘em there?”
“‘S worth a shot,” the younger Winchester shrugged. You saw his eyes drift over to your bed where some of the contents of your duffel bag were scattered. He nodded at what you assumed was your sketchbook as he questioned, “You draw?”
“Yep,” you replied. 
“Can I see?”
“Sure,” you nodded, leaning back in your chair to grab it off your bed. You opened it to some of your most recent drawings and let him flip through them. 
“Dude, these are really good,” he complimented you. 
You thanked him with a smile. “I did one of you last week.” You showed it to him.
“Thanks,” he grinned. “This is amazing.” He looked from the drawing back up to you. “But why’d you draw me?”
“Well, I draw people I find interesting,” you shrugged. "You and that freaky head of yours are interesting.”
“Who ‘re the other people you drew?”
“Not a clue,” you answered. “Like I said, people I find interesting. Randos in bars, diners, pretty much anywhere.”
“That’s so cool,” he told you. Sam handed you the book back. 
“What about you?” you asked as you took it from him. “You have any fun hobbies? Hidden talents I should know about?”
“Not really,” he replied. “I mean, I like to read.”
“Lame,” you joked, leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed. “C’mon, there’s gotta be something more fun than that.”
“Well, I liked going to the gym at Stanford and going on runs.”
“Oh, so you’re a health nut,” you chuckled.
“I guess so, yeah,” Sam laughed. 
Your conversation was cut short by a knock on the door. 
“You girls done in there?” Dean called through the door. 
“I guess we are now,” you remarked. 
Sam got up and let his brother into the room as you glanced at the clock on your bedside table that read “3:15.” 
“We should probably head over to the park now,” you told the boys.
“Park? Why?” Dean inquired.
“Andrea said she was bringing Lucas there at three. He’s the only eyewitness we got, so we should probably try to talk to him,” you informed him.
“Alright, let’s go.”
***
Conveniently enough for you and the Winchesters, there was only one park in Lake Manitoc since it was such a small town. You noticed Andrea sitting on a bench on the outskirts of the small field near the playground watching over here son. He was sat on the ground by another bench a little ways off from Andrea, using the bench as a table for him to color on. Lucas had crayons, paper, and what appeared to be green army men scattered on the bench. 
“Can we join you?” Sam asked Andrea once you three had gotten up next to her bench. 
The brunette looked up at you three, smiling as she stated, “I'm here with my son.” 
“Oh,” the older Winchester started, “Mind if I say hi?” Without waiting for her answer, he went over to Lucas. 
Andrea addressed you and Sam as the two of you sat on the bench next to her. “Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me.”
“I don't think that's what this is about,” Sam told her.
You watched as Dean knelt next to the young boy while Andrea and Sam talked about Christopher’s drowning. Lucas paid Dean no mind, continuing to color as Dean played with the army men on the bench briefly. He spoke a little more before grabbing a piece of paper and sitting on the bench. Dean showed off whatever he had drawn to Lucas before putting the drawing down when Lucas was unresponsive and decided to say something else to the young boy. Moments later, the older Winchester walked back over to you, Andrea, and Sam.  Andrea was saying something about how Lucas had not spoken since his father’s death as Dean reached your group. 
“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” Sam told her. “What are the doctors saying?”
“That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she explained. 
“That can't be easy. For either of you.”
“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...�� she trailed off and shook her head. 
There was a short silence broken by Dean. “Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.”
You noticed Lucas get up from his seat by the bench out of the corner of your eye and make his way over to your group with a piece of construction paper in hand.
“You know,” Andrea began, “he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” she was caught by surprise to see Lucas suddenly next to her. “Oh, hey, sweetheart.”
Lucas ignored his mom and looked up at Dean. He handed the man the picture. 
“Thanks,” Dean nodded, looking the drawing over. “Thanks, Lucas.”
You caught a glimpse of the paper, recognizing the house in it but unable to place where you had seen it. 
“We’ll see you around,” Sam told Andrea as you and the Winchesters turned away from the Barrs.
You studied Dean as he looked over the picture. In your mind, he was still a dick but had made the child feel comfortable enough to communicate by some means with him.
“What are you looking at?” Dean interrogated you gruffly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
‘And he’s back to being a dick.’ 
***
You slept pretty well that night but woke up groggy and in deep need of coffee. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and got up from your bed, moving over to your duffel bag. You grabbed a clean black shirt from your bag along with a pair of jeans and socks. You tucked the oversized shirt into your jeans and tugged on your combat boots. After finishing your morning routine, you headed out of the door. You figured it was late enough that the boys should be up, and knocked on the door to their room. Sam opened it a few seconds later. 
“I want coffee,” you stated dryly, feeling a bit like a zombie in your decaffeinated state. 
“Me too,” he answered. “You want anything, Dean?”
The older brother grunted in response from somewhere within the room.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
After grabbing the Impala’s keys, you and Sam headed over to the car.
“Is he always that cheery in the mornings?” you asked referring to Dean.
“Yeah, he’s a joy to be around when he first wakes up,” Sam responded sarcastically. The two of you got into the car and Sam began to drive away from the motel.
“Ooh, I saw a cute little coffee shop over that way.” You pointed out of the passenger’s side window. 
Sam followed your instructions, and soon the two of you were off for a drive in the neighborhood around the lake with coffees in hand. 
You straightened up in your seat when you saw an ambulance in front of the Carlton house. “Pull over.”
Sam did as told, and the two of you hopped out of the car. There were several other onlookers standing near the house. 
“What happened?” you asked one of the older women nearby.
“Oh, the young man who lived here, Will Carlton,” she began, putting a hand on her chest, “he died last night.”
“What?” Sam asked incredulously.
“The poor thing drowned.”
“How?” You gave the woman a quizzical look. 
“I don’t really understand it myself,” she laughed uncomfortably, “he drowned in the sink. His father didn’t find him till this morning.”
“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath. 
“Poor Bill,” the older woman sighed, looking at the house. “First his godson in May, then his daughter, and now Will.”
“His godson?” Sam questioned.
“Christopher Barr.”
You looked up at Sam, who looked down at you with a confused expression that mirrored your own.
You said your goodbyes to the older woman and headed back to the car. 
“This just gets weirder all the time,” Sam commented as he drove the two of you away from the scene. 
“At least now we know there’s a connection to Bill Carlton,” you reminded him.
“But what did he do to deserve this?”
“Hell if I know.”
***
You and Sam filled Dean in on the situation as soon as you walked into the boys’ shared motel room.
“What the hell? So you're right,” Dean said, talking to Sam, “this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.” 
“Yeah, but what?” you asked. 
“I don't know,” he told you in an annoyed tone as if you had asked a stupid question. “Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...” he trailed off. He straightened up and his eyes grew wider as he came to a realization. “Water that comes from the same source.”
“The lake.”
“Yeah.”
“Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time,” you added.
“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean got up from the bed as he spoke, his stress level seeming to rise slightly. “This is gonna happen again soon.” He sat down on one of the chairs at the table near the window. 
“And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton,” Sam mentioned. 
“Yeah, it took both his kids,” the older Winchester acknowledged.
“And this lady at the Carlton house said that Chris was Bill’s godson,” you explained. 
Dean looked up at you and Sam. “Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.”
***
Your attempted questioning of Mr. Carlton had gone unsuccessfully. 
“My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please,” the older man dismissed you. Through the duration of his visit, he refused to look up from the boards of the wooden dock. His posture had been slumped over, and his facial expression remained solemn. 
“We’re sorry,” you told him before you followed the boys back to the car. 
“What do you think?” Sam asked.
“Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell,” Dean replied. “I also think he's not telling us something.”
“So now what?” the younger brother inquired, leaning on the roof of the car.
“Huh,” you let out. 
“What?” Sam asked. 
“You got Lucas’s drawing on you by any chance?” you asked Dean. 
He looked at you questioningly but pulled it out of his jacket pocket nonetheless. 
You unfolded the paper and held it up next to the Carlton house. Lucas had drawn Bill’s house on the paper, which is why the drawing looked familiar to you. 
“Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something,” Dean commented. 
***
You and the boys were just inside the door of the Barr household, trying to get Andrea to let Dean talk to Lucas.
“I'm sorry,” Andrea expressed, “but I don't think it's a good idea.”
“I just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes,” Dean pleaded.
“He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?” 
“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there,” Sam explained. 
“My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all.” 
You could tell Andrea did not really think that. 
“If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son,” Dean tried one last time.
Andrea gave in, showing you and the boys down the hall to Lucas’s room. Your group found Lucas sitting on the floor surrounded by drawings and army men. He was coloring another picture. 
Dean walked into the room and crouched down beside the boy’s setup. “You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.”
You looked over at what Lucas was drawing. It was a person in the water. You quirked an eyebrow at it as Dean placed the picture of the Carlton house in front of Lucas.
“How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me,” Dean offered. 
Lucas ignored him.
“You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.”
That seemingly touched something within Lucas, who dropped the crayon and looked up at the older Winchester. 
You heard Andrea suck in a breath as Lucas handed Dean a picture of a white church, a yellow two-story house, and a little boy with a red bicycle. 
“Thanks, Lucas,” Dean said quietly.
***
“Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died,” Dean brought up as he drove along the highway. The three of you were attempting to find the place Lucas had drawn. 
“There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies,” Sam explained.
“Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please,” Dean remarked.
You leaned forward on your elbows on the back of the leather front seat. “All right, we got another house to find.” 
“The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone,” Dean brought up, his tone once again implying what he thought you were suggesting was stupid.
Sam looked at the picture, which he held in his hand. “See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here.”
“Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart,” the older brother mocked. SAM
“You know, um...” Sam started. “What you said about Mom...You never told me that before.”
“It's no big deal,” Dean shrugged. 
Sam looked at him with his signature puppy dog eyes expression.
“Oh God,” the older Winchester groaned. “We're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?” 
***
You and the boys walked up to the yellow house that matched the one in the drawing. The house just so happened to be across the street from a church just like Lucas had drawn. 
You were greeted at the door by a petite old woman. “Hello,” she smiled.
“Hi,” you grinned back. “I’m (Y/N), this is Sam and Dean--” you gestured between the two boys, “--we just have a question for you.”
“Come in, come in.” Her friendly disposition was incredibly welcoming as she allowed you and the Winchesters into her home.
“We're sorry to bother you, ma'am,” Dean began, “but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle.”
The woman’s formerly cheery disposition suddenly shifted to solemn. “No sir. Not for a very long time.” She looked over at a picture of a smiling little boy on a table in the living room. “Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now.” She turned back to you and the boys. “The police never—I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” The woman’s voice wavered as she spoke.
Your eyebrows turned upwards out of sympathy for her. 
Sam nudged your elbow and pointed out toy soldiers sitting on one of the side tables. 
“Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying.” The woman echoed Bill Carlton’s earlier statement. 
“Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” the older Winchester question. 
“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up,” the woman whimpered. 
Dean picked up a picture off of a mirror in the room. It was of two little boys in boy scout uniforms, one of them being Peter with his red bicycle. “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy,” Dean read from the back of the photo. 
“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam stated softly. “We’ll just be going now. Thank you for your time.” He and his brother turned to head out of the door.
The woman turned away, her sniffles tugging on your heartstrings as you went to follow the boys. 
“Mrs. Sweeney?” 
She turned to you, as did the boys, who watched from the door. 
“Can I give you a hug?”
She seemed surprised by your question but accepted your offer nonetheless. As soon as you wrapped your arms around her, she broke down into sobs.
“I’m so sorry about Peter,” you whispered to her. 
She nodded into your shoulder as a response. 
After another moment, you released her and rubbed up and down her arms. “It’ll be okay.”
She nodded once more. 
You and the boys showed yourselves out. None of you said a word until about halfway through the drive.
Sam was the one to break the silence. “Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.”
“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean mentioned.
“And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished.”
“So what if Bill did something to Peter?”
“What if Bill killed him?”
“Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible.” Dean’s eyes flickered to yours in the rearview mirror. “This is probably the quietest I’ve heard you since I met you, (Y/N). Wanna share what you’re thinkin’ about with the class?”
“Like you give a shit.” 
“I was trying to, but fine, keep being a bitch.”
You could not believe Dean. “What, you treat me like I’m stupid, act like a dick to me for weeks, and suddenly I’m supposed to believe you’re genuinely concerned?” 
“Forget I asked.”
***
The Impala pulled in front of the Carlton house, and to your surprise, you had not seen Bill sitting on the dock. You and the Winchesters got out of the car, calling out to Mr. Carlton.
You wheeled around when you heard the roar of what sounded like a boat engine. 
“Guys?” you called to the boys behind you when you saw Bill driving his boat out into the lake. 
You immediately broke out into a sprint, yelling for the man to turn his boat around. 
Bill turned his head to look at you three standing at the edge of the dock but continued driving out. As soon as he turned his head back around, the water beneath the boat sprang up as if a bomb had been blown up beneath the surface. Bill’s boat flipped over into the water, and neither Bill nor the boat ever resurfaced.
You and the boys called Jake to the scene of Bill Carlton’s disappearance. Neighbors gathered around the lake, looking for signs of Bill, the boat, or whatever had taken him down. After Jake found nothing and questioned the neighbors who witnessed what had happened, he asked you and the Winchesters to head back to the station with him. 
Once inside the station, you spotted Andrea and Lucas sitting behind the desk in the police station’s lobby. 
When the young woman saw you, she bounced up and put the bag that was in her hands on the seat behind her. “Sam, Dean, (Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here. 
Jake looked between your group and Andrea. “So now you're on a first-name basis,” he scoffed. “What are you doing here?” He directed the question to his daughter.
“I brought you dinner,” she explained. 
“I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time.” He shook his head and moved past her to head into his office, you and the boys hot on his tail.
The sound of Andrea’s voice made all four of you stop and turn around. 
“I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”
“Right now we don't know what the truth is,” Jake relayed. “But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.”
As soon as the older man mentioned Lucas going home, the little boy jumped up with a panicked look on his face. He whined and tugged on Dean’s arm as Andrea and Lucas tried to comfort him. 
Andrea managed to get her son off of Dean and pull him out of the office. You watched the pair as they left, and noticed Lucas’s eyes never left Dean.
The sheriff threw his jacket onto a chair and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he walked into the office.
You looked at Sam and the two of you supposed you were to follow Jake.
You sat in one chair, Dean sat in the other, and Sam leaned on the back of your chair just as had happened before. 
The older man leaned on the front of his desk in front of your trio. “Okay, just so I'm clear, you see,” Jake trailed off, recovering a moment later, “something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?”
“Yep, that about sums it up,” you replied.
“And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?” Jake casually mentioned.
You managed to keep a poker face on, but apparently, Dean gave you away.
“That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three.”
“See, now, we can explain that--” Dean started, but was immediately cut off by the officer. 
“Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again.” Jake jutted his finger in your face as he spoke, his tone harsh.
“Door number two is... rather appealing.” You were trying to keep up your plucky attitude despite your circumstance.
“That's the one I'd pick,” he said sharply. 
***
You had your head against the window, legs tossed to the side of you as the hum of the Impala’s engine was slowly lulling you to sleep.
Sam’s voice pulled you out of your haze. “Green.”
“What?” Dean asked. Apparently, he had been in a daze, too.
‘Not good considering this asshole’s the one driving.’
“Light's green,” Sam elaborated. 
Dean turned right.
“Uh, the interstate's the other way,” you yawned, 
“I know.”
“Okay--” you dragged out the word, “--so why are you heading back to Lake Manitoc?”
“Cause I think we still got more work to do,” he responded.
“But Dean, this job, I think it’s over,” Sam interjected.
“I'm not so sure,” Dean replied shortly. 
Sam gave his brother more pushback. “If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”
“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?” Dean argued.
“But why would you think that?” 
“Because Lucas was really scared.”
The younger Winchester was caught by surprise. “That's what this is about?” 
You were caught by surprise, too, but for a different reason. Once again, the scents of coconut and tobacco filled the air.
“I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay.” Dean tried to play off his concern nonchalantly, but you could see right through the bullshit act.
“Y’know, I’m actually with Dean on this one,” you declared. 
Dean quirked a brow at you in the rearview mirror, but you simply shrugged at him.
“Who are you two? And what have you done with (Y/N) and Dean?” Sam quipped sarcastically, glancing between you and his brother with a confused expression.
There was a slight pause before both you and Dean said in unison, “Shut up.”
***
“Are you sure about this?” Sam looked around as you and the Winchesters stood on the front porch of the Barr house. “It's pretty late, man.”
Dean ignored him, ringing the doorbell. Immediately it opened to reveal a panicked Lucas.
“Lucas? Lucas!” Dean called after the boy as he took off into the house. 
You followed behind Dean as all four of you sprinted through the house. You heard a splash beneath your feet and realized water was pouring down the stairs in front of you. Lucas started to pound on the door that led to where the water was coming from, which you assumed was a bathroom. 
Dean pulled Lucas out of the way just before you gave a powerful kick to the door, effectively knocking it in. 
Inside the bathroom, the tub was filled to the brim with murky, brown water. You jumped out of the way to let Sam try to pull Andrea out of there, knowing he would be a better fit for the job than you were. 
Sam eventually managed to pull her out of the bathtub. They landed with Sam on his back and Andrea on top of him, sobbing and coughing up water. You immediately offered the woman a towel you had found and wrapped her in it.
Lucas threw Dean off of him and immediately wrapped his arms around his mom. 
Happy to see that she was okay, you and the boys let Andrea have some privacy to get dressed. After she had done that, she and Sam went into the living room to talk while you and Dean looked for a connection to Peter Sweeney. 
You found a bookshelf full of photo albums and began giving the labels a quick once-over. You found one with “Jake-- 12 years old” scrawled across the white label of the brown cover. You flipped to a page with pictures of the same Boy Scout troop that Peter Sweeney seemed to have been in from that picture you saw at the Sweeney house. You shut the book on your finger, holding your spot in the photo album.
“Whatcha got?” Dean asked.
“You’ll see.” You walked past him back into the living room. You opened the photo album to the page your finger was tabbing, putting the book in front of Andrea on the coffee table. “You recognize the kids in these pictures?”
She seemed caught off-guard, and you felt bad for potentially startling her after the night she had had. 
“What? Um, no.” She took a pause. “I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” The brunette dragged her finger across the page gesturing to her dad as a young boy. Jake was standing next to who you recognized as Peter Sweeney in several of the pictures.
“Chris Barr's drowning,” Dean spoke up. “The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”
“Bill and the sheriff,” the younger man corrected his brother, “they were both involved with Peter.”
“What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?” Andrea was looking at the three of you like you were crazy.
“Lucas?” Dean’s voice brought your attention to the little boy staring out of the window. “Lucas, what is it?”
Lucas kept his gaze focused outside as he walked out of the door. Andrea continued to call after Lucas as you all followed him outside. Lucas stopped and looked at the ground and then up at the older Winchester, who stood beside him.
Dean faced Andrea. “You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?”
Andrea did as told, pulling her son away from your trio. 
“You guys still have those shovels in the trunk?”
***
“Keep workin’ hard over there, sweetheart,” Dean deadpanned. 
You pushed yourself off of the tree you were leaning against. “Dude, you only had two shovels and you were too busy being macho and dig whatever’s down there up yourself to let me use one of them,” you protested. “So don’t tell me shit about ‘working hard.’ But by all means--” you then started to use a mocking baby voice, “--if Dean is getting a wittle too sweaty, I’d be happy to take his pwace.”
“Nope. I got it.”
“So hush your mouth.”
He glared back at you and plunged his shovel back into the dirt when the metal part of the shovel hit another piece of metal. You and Dean both looked down at what laid beneath the ground and you helped the boys pull the object out of the dirt. 
“Peter’s bike,” Sam remarked.
You heard a gun cock behind Sam and Dean. “Who are you?” 
You looked up to find Jake standing there and pointing a gun at the three of you.
The boys slowly turned around.
“Put the gun down, Jake,” Sam pleaded. 
Both he and Dean dropped their shovels. 
“How did you know that was there?” The sheriff demanded.
The older Winchester did not answer his question. “What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake, and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.”
“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” The sheriff’s lie was not even in the ballpark of convincing.
“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about.”
“Dad!” Andrea yelled, running up on the altercation.
“And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit,” Dean continued, keeping his eyes trained on Jake. 
“Peter’s gonna get everyone you love--Lucas, Andrea-- and drag their bodies god knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then it’s gonna take you. It won’t stop until it does,” you informed him.
Jake looked at you as if you were stupid. “Yeah, and how do you know that?”
“Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton,” you told the older man.
“Listen to yourselves, all of you. You're insane!” he chided. 
Dean scoffed. “I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake.” 
“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea interrupted, her voice shaking.
“No,” her father lied. “Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous.”
The brunette wasn’t having it. “Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.”
He did.
“Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone.”
Jake looked away from his daughter, unable to form a response. The guilt was too much to bear.
“Oh my God,” Andrea breathed.
“Billy and I were at the lake,” Jake started to explain. “Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.” 
‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Makes our job so much easier.’
“Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational.”
Dean was done with Jake’s skeptical attitude. “All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.”
Andrea turned her head and immediately cried, “Lucas!”
You turned your head in the direction she was looking to see the little boy leaning over the side of the lake reaching for something.
You took off, following close behind Jake as you ran. You spotted Lucas get pulled into the water by something, causing you to cry out his name. 
You ran off the solid ground onto the dock, leaping into the water once you reached the edge of the platform.
You dove deep into the lake, trying your best to make out the shape of Lucas or the spirit of Peter. You went back up to the surface, taking in a deep breath. 
You looked over to Andrea on the dock, and she stared back at you with a panicked expression. You shook your head, diving back below the surface.
While you did not see Lucas, you did see a boy with skin a pale gray and tattered clothing rising to the surface. You flinched back, the appearance of Peter’s spirit catching you off-guard. It grabbed Jake, who you just noticed had gone into the water and began pulling him under.
You sprang into action, swimming as fast as you could over to where Jake was being pulled down. You reached your hand down, trying to grab him, but. it was too late. You were running out of air, and because the water below was getting blacker as you went deeper, you could not see Jake anymore.
You clawed your way back to the surface, gasping for air when you came up. 
Andrea looked to you frantically, and you shook your head once more.
She screamed “No!” just before splashing coming from behind you on the right caught your attention. You looked behind you to see Dean holding an unconscious Lucas to his chest. The poor little boy’s head was lying on Dean’s shoulder limply, and you and Sam swam to help him. Sam took Lucas ashore, and you checked him over to see if he would need CPR. Once you determined that he would, you immediately set to work.
You were able to revive him with two cycles of rescue breaths and chest compressions. He immediately coughed up water as air filled his lungs once more.
You got out of Andrea’s way and let her hug her son. 
The scene before you-- Andrea on her knees, crying and hugging her rescued son-- was the reason why you did what you did. Seeing families reunited and given a temporary happy ending was what made you love hunting, despite how gruesome the job could get at times. 
You figured that even though your life was so screwed to hell, at least you could save the lives of others.
***
Once you and the boys had changed clothes, dried off, and packed up, you began loading your stuff into the car. 
Dean clearly had something on his mind, and you were not the only one to notice.
“Look, we're not gonna save everybody,” Sam reminded his brother, having figured out what Dean was mulling over.
“I know."
“Sam, Dean, (Y/N),” you heard Andrea call. 
You looked up to see the young woman walking toward you with Lucas, who carried a tray of food wrapped in cellophane.
You all walked toward each other, stopping once you had met in the middle. 
“We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road,” Andrea smiled. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.”
“Can I give it to them now?” Lucas asked his mom.
The sound of his voice made you smile. 
“Of course.” The young woman kissed her son’s head. 
“Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car.” Dena led Lucas over to the car, and you stayed with Sam to talk to Andrea.
“How you holding up?” the younger Winchester asked her.
“It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?”
“Andrea, I'm sorry,” Sam sighed.
Andrea shook her head. “You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that.”
You heard Dean talking to Lucas from behind you, and you turned around to face them as Dean spoke. “All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time.”
“Zeppelin rules!”
“That's right. Up high.”
The two boys high-fived as you, Sam, and Andrea began walking over to them.
“You take care of your mom, okay?” Dean told Lucas.
“All right.”
Andrea leaned over the open door of the Impala that Dean stood behind and pressed her lips to his.
“Thank you,” she said to him.
You rolled your eyes, pissed at him for his ability to pick up whoever he wanted. 
He scratched his head, walking around to the other side of the car. “Sam, (Y/N), move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.”
You got into the seat behind Dean, waving to Andrea and Lucas who were waving back at you as Dean backed the Impala out of its parking spot.
Once you were on the road, you spoke up over the music. “Y’know, I’m not dissin’ on Zeppelin because I love them, but there were so many other amazing bands that ‘rule’ that you could’ve told Lucas about.”
Dean groaned. “Really? You’re picking a fight with me about that?”
“I’m not picking a fight, I’m giving my honest opinion,” you replied.
“Okay, well, who would you ‘ve told Lucas about?” he questioned.
“Um, how ‘bout Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, Queen, need I go on?”
“I cannot believe you just said Fleetwood Mac is better than Zeppelin,” he stated incredulously.
“It’s fucking Stevie Nicks, dude, of course Fleetwood’s better than Zeppelin,” you argued. “She’s a goddess.”
Dean turned left onto the Insterstate, picking up the Impala’s speed. “Robert Plant’s better.”
“Yeah, no,” you responded dryly. 
Instead of responding verbally, Dean put one of his Led Zeppelin tapes into the cassette player and cranked the volume up. “What’d you say? Can’t hear you over the greatest band of all time!”
For the first time since you met him, you laughed at Dean’s antics. “You are such an idiot!” 
Tags are open and feedback is always appreciated!
Series Rewrite Tags:
@rach5ive​ @ppeachygemss​
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zackcollins · 5 years ago
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like a train through a house of glass ch. 3 || carter hart
chapter 1 || chapter 2
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Author’s Note: So. Uh. Chapter 3 is done incredibly quickly after chapter 2. For the sake of things, I’ve decided to schedule it again. It’ll be today at 11:00 am again. Once again, if you’d like that to change, feel free to let me know! I’m always willing to accommodate the needs of my readers. GIF credit to the original creator!! 
Warning: Same as the last two: the reader is paralyzed. Though, you should know that by now if you’re reading this. Regardless, it’s good to tell you just in case. I can’t remember if I added swear words to this chapter or not but I’ll put a warning for those just in case. I also mention how the reader became paralyzed. It’s nothing violent or graphic; just a throwaway comment in an internal monologue.
Words: 1.9k+
Title: Crash by Chad Brownlee
Additional: The language is gender-neutral again but I had one of the characters use the word “hun” to refer to the reader. That was the most gender-neutral pet name I could think of that wasn’t necessarily romantic (since it wasn’t Carter calling the reader that); I hope that’s alright for everyone. As for the doctor being named Dr. Owen: Jake Owen was playing on my Spotify when I needed a name for her. Fair enough?
When you arrived at the arena, Carter had nearly fallen asleep on your shoulder. Chuckling softly, you rolled your shoulder to get his attention. Carter jolted a little, whacking his head against your chin. You both cursed softly. You heard Morgan chuckle and Joel scoff.
“‘M sorry,” Carter mumbled, stretching as best he could in the confines of his car. “I didn’t really sleep last night. I was too worried about you.” Blushing, Carter focused his attention out the window on the other side of the car. 
You felt your heartache at those words. The fact that Carter was watching out for you was heartwarming. Grabbing his jaw, you brought his head over to face you. You saw the blush creep along his face as you thumbed his cheek. Before you could kiss him, your door swung open and startled both of you.
“Way to be a cockblock, Farabee,” Carter said, glaring at Joel.
Joel chuckled. “Cockblock implies sex. If sex was going to happen in the back of your car in the parking garage of the practice arena… well. I’m glad I stopped it.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes at Joel. Morgan giggled from the front seat, unbuckling his seatbelt. 
“I’ll grab the wheelchair,” Morgan said, stepping out of the car. “Is Joel going to lift (Y/N) again? Or would Carter want to do it this time?”
Morgan unlocked the trunk, leaning in to grab the wheelchair. A moment later, he cursed. You, Carter, and Joel looked over your shoulders.
“You okay, Morgan?” Carter asked, stretching again. 
When you heard his back pop, part of you felt envious. You wanted desperately to feel that sensation again. To feel the rush of electricity flow through your nerve endings as you popped a cramped joint back into place. Unfortunately, a drunk driver had taken that away from you. Now, you had to suffer from the possibility that the fleeting feelings you got today when Carter and Joel touched you could quite possibly be the only feelings you ever felt in your lower half ever again. 
“Yeah, fine, fine,” Morgan said, closing the trunk with a thunk. “I whacked my head on the trunk latch.”
Joel scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Do you need to go to the training staff? Wouldn’t want you to have a concussion.”
Morgan appeared beside Joel a moment later pushing your wheelchair. “This coming from the guy who cried the last time he had sex.”
Turning red, Joel hastily walked toward the arena with an embarrassed look on his face. Morgan rolled his eyes, chuckling. Carter blinked, looking in the direction Joel had hurried off in and then back to Morgan. You noticed the cogs turning in Carter’s head; the same cogs were turning in your head.
Morgan locked the wheels on your wheelchair before leaning over you and unbuckling your seatbelt. You smiled at him, patting him on the chest. A look of pride washed across Morgan’s face as he scooped you out of your seat.
“Morgan?” You asked, still in his arms.
Yes, (Y/N)?” Morgan replied, slipping you into your wheelchair.
“Are you and Joel…?” You motioned between you and Carter, hoping that got the point across.
It seemed to have the desired effect because Morgan’s face turned eleven shades of scarlet and he stumbled a little with your final placement in your wheelchair. He mumbled an apology as he shifted you to sit properly. You smiled, squeezing his wrist. Carter appeared at that moment, squeezing Morgan’s shoulder as he closed the car door.
Morgan exhaled through his nostrils, glancing between you and Carter. He leaned against the car, putting his hands in his pockets. He cast his head down, looking at his feet as he kicked around a pebble.
“Yes,” Morgan whispered, looking back at you and Carter. His face was frightened, one on the brink of tears.
“Oh, sweetie,” you said, grabbing his wrists and rubbing circles into them.
“We won’t tell anyone,” Carter said. He smiled sincerely at Morgan. Morgan smiled back, taking his hands from your grip to wipe his eyes.
Morgan opened his mouth to reply but quickly snapped it shut when Kevin, Travis, and Nolan walked by. Nolan and Kevin kept walking, talking to each other; Travis stopped, raising an eyebrow. He walked over after a moment, motioning a circle around Morgan’s face. 
“You don’t seem happy,” he said. “Is everything okay?”
“Joel and I are dating and I’m scared about people finding out,” Morgan blurted before bringing his hands to cover his mouth. His eyes turned glassy with tears as he pushed Carter and Travis out of the way to run toward the arena.
Travis blinked, holding up a finger and leaving his mouth agape. He looked between you and Carter, face comically confused. You and Carter both shrugged, Carter going so far as to pat Travis on the shoulder.
“If he doesn’t want me to tell anyone, I won’t,” Travis said after a moment of palpable silence. The three of you started making your way toward the arena, Travis still looking confused. “That secret is his and Joel’s to let out of the bag.”
Carter hummed, smiling at Travis. You nodded along, thanking Travis when he held the door for you. You bid the boys farewell, Carter leaning down and kissing you as was his ritual before practice. 
You were left sitting in the lobby as the boys walked away; you never knew where you were supposed to go while you waited for practice to officially start. Your wheelchair jostled, making you jump a little. When you looked over, Ryanne was standing there. She was holding two coffees, one of which she offered to you.
“(Y/N), I had time to stop for coffee,” she smiled as you took the cup from her. “Claude didn’t want one today, so I decided to get one for you instead. Chai latte with vanilla, right?”
Nodding, you took a drink. It was still warm as you swallowed it. You made a satisfying sound and smiled at Ryanne. “Thank you! This is wonderful, Ryanne.” You raised the cup in salute.
Smiling, Ryanne raised her own cup in salute. “You’re welcome, hun. Carter beams about you so I thought I’d treat you today.”
You felt a blush creep across your body. Ryanne chuckled when she noticed the red tint rising on your face. She raised her cup in salute again, taking a drink.
“He really does love you, (Y/N),” she said as soon as she was done drinking. You cast a shy glance at Ryanne. “He’s talked about how caring for you has brought him a deeper appreciation for people with disabilities. He’s mentioned wanting to marry you and start a family with you. He’s said he’d love kids but it can be dogs instead if that’s more practical.”
Your entire face was ablaze with feeling; what made you the happiest was the butterfly sensation that had settled in your stomach. You grabbed Ryanne’s hand, squeezing it. She tilted her head, resting her coffee cup on the arm of your wheelchair.
“I…” you trailed off, squeezing your eyelids shut. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of the practice arena. Though, if you did end up crying, Ryanne was one of the few people besides Carter you were completely comfortable crying in front of. “I can feel butterflies in my stomach.”
Ryanne squeezed her coffee cup which caused some coffee to dribble out. It dribbled onto your pant leg. You cast her a sideways glance to which she gave you an apologetic look. 
“I’m—“ Ryanne started, moving backward toward the concession stand for a napkin.
“Don’t,” you said, holding your hand up. “I can barely feel the heat of the coffee.”
A soft smile spread across Ryanne’s face as she planted her feet back into the floor. She cupped the top of your hand with her free hand, squeezing graciously. You took a sip of your coffee, casting Ryanne a soft expression with your eyes the entire time. 
“When’s your next appointment? Dr. Owen needs to know all of this,” Ryanne said, squeezing your hand once more before moving her hand away.
“A couple of weeks. Carter was going to see if he could make one sooner because this was happening this morning, too.”
“Nonsense, (Y/N),” Ryanne scoffed, reaching into her purse. “You and Carter have enough to worry about. Let me change the appointment. What kind of wife of the captain would I be if I didn’t help the team when they needed it?”
Taking another drink of your coffee, you felt a mixture of warmth and butterflies spread in your stomach. It felt amazing to be loved by people that really only had to affiliate with Carter. You smiled at Ryanne as she stepped aside to call Dr. Owen.
While Ryanne was on the phone, you sat and contemplated what she had said about Carter. You already knew he loved you but apparently not the extent at which he did. Carter had never mentioned to you about wanting to marry you; then again, you had been having feelings about wanting to marry him and hadn’t mentioned them to him meaning you couldn’t hold that against him. There was also a part of you that was wanting to start a family with him and you were on board with either the children or dog option; both at the same time even appealed to you. 
“(Y/N)?” Ryanne’s voice snapped you out of whatever trance-like state you had been in. You took a sip of coffee, pleased that it was still somewhat warm. “Dr. Owen said she could squeeze you in tomorrow at noon. We don’t have a game tomorrow, so I can get Vigneault to excuse Carter from training.”
Nodding, you took another sip of coffee. Peeling at the label on the cup, you looked at Ryanne. “Did you mean what you said?” 
“About Carter being able to be excused from training?” Ryanne tilted her head, looking at you with a little confusion. “Yeah, why? Vigneault knows how much you mean to Carter. He’d let him out of anything for you.”
You felt your stomach swoop, heart quickening in pace. “I meant about Carter saying he loves me and wants to start a family with me.”
Ryanne’s expression softened. She rubbed the back of your shoulder, smiling lightly.
“Of course, (Y/N),” she said. “Carter gushes about you more than Claude gushes about the baby.” She grabbed your hand, placing it on her stomach. You felt the baby kick your hand, causing you to jolt a little in surprise. Ryanne chuckled. “Yeah, he’s feisty.”
You gave Ryanne a fond look before you finished drinking your coffee. You thanked her again for the coffee before you wheeled yourself to the garbage can to throw the cup out. Ryanne smiled at you as she walked to sit in her usual alcove.
Left sitting in the lobby by yourself again, you sighed. You now had the information that Carter wanted to marry you and start a family with you rattling around in your brain. It was rattling alongside the information that you wanted to do the same with him. 
You heard a shrill whistle cut through the air. Sighing again, you packed that information away for later. Having an internal crisis could wait.
You had a hockey practice to watch.
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missielee · 4 years ago
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Passion
Day 1&2: Fish & Wisp
Fish – such a fascinating creature
It was Olivia’s first passion as well as pet
When she was seven, her dad took her and her sister to the aquarium downtown.
It was magnificent, she said
It was like a different world, she said
Engulfed by a singular color blue, she was mesmerized by all the moving little diamonds around her
Colorful scales glimmered in the tank lights, felt like thousands stars on the sky
They moved oh so gracefully, bubbles curved along their fins
It was like a water dance.
That was at least ten years ago, little Olivia has already turned into a beautiful young woman who is passionate about the ocean life, specifically sea creatures. Fascinated by them, she indulged hours in books on her dad’s shelves and pursued her dream to become, well, quoted on quote “Fish”.
Fish is a peculiar animal. They live in water and absorb oxygen through their respiration system which is the gills. Their body is covered in scales worked as camouflage, protection and swimming aid. Their fins flutter through the current as they sway their body elegantly. What could possibly better than being a fish, swimming freely in the water blue?
“I prefer whale better” Janet voiced her opinion out loud
“What? That swimming elephant? No way!” Olivia eyed her friend in disbelief “That’s not even a fish!”
“It’s a sea creature too so it sorta counts. Also, FYI, that is super mean. That’s probably equivalent to pointing out someone is obese in fish language.” Janet rolled her eyes, continued eating her lunch
“Whale and dolphin are mammals, so not a fish. Beside, would you really want to be a whale? Big, giant blue whale?”
“Uh, whale is my spiritual animal, therefore, yes I’ll be the big giant and BEAUTIFUL blue whale” a glare was directed right back to Olivia “At the very least, I won’t get eaten by other species”
“Other than human, sure!” Olivia sipped her water “You do know that a fair amount of whale was hunted for meat and oil in the past right?”
“Whale hunting was a thing?”
“Yeah, it was like a thing back in 1800s. Products made from whale, mainly oil, are incredibly valuable. A barrel of sperm-whale oil can even went up to 1500$ per barrel” Olivia shrugged “But it wasn’t used much nowadays because many better resource appeared: like Kerosene, vegetable oil, petrol”
“Uh huh, you know a lot about whale for someone who just insult it” Janet smirked upon her “You like whale too, don’t you ~”
“Said the one who have their nose in Moby Dick like twenty times or something. I only know some of the basic thing about whale”
“Hey, that book is a masterpiece! Brave men against the nature! Battling fearlessly! Unlike you and you’re fish tank obsession.”
Olivia couldn’t bother to say back. It’s true that she’s have an itsy bitsy infatuation with fish, but she couldn’t explain it why she adores them that much. Some have told her she could become mermaid like those performs in aquarium shows but Olivia refused. Even though it was her dream to become of them, she absolutely hates mermaid/merman in generally because mermaid doesn’t swim like a fish does, according to her logically research. Since mermaid have different anatomy, their swim movement is up-and-down, which isn’t the normal side-to-side like fish does. In addition to that, mermaid eats fish, explained her dislike towards becoming one. She understood that it’s normal to pray on one to another in the animal kingdom but she cannot stand the idea of feasting on such pretty shiny thing. ‘I mean people might have evolved enough to even eat gold but not diamond, right?’
It’s not the first time she realized turning into a fish is practically impossible. Despite her fascination of the marine life, she apparently have Thalassophobia, which prevents her from any activities near the open water. It was upsetting to Olivia, having to spend her life in pictures capturing a small part of the vast water part. It’s like try to play puzzles with endless pieces and they all have the same shade of color. No amount of therapy could help her reach the board of the ship, the closest she could ever get is the lightly wet sand shore. Moreover, there’s an unexplainable feeling when she reaches the ocean, she hears it whisper her name in sad serenity. And on a more frightening term, it always seems to seep closer and closer to her.
“Livvy? You’re spacing out again. Come on, we’ll be late for class” she snapped out of her daze, turn to see her friend already finished packing her belongings
Checking her phone, 2:45 and her class started at 3, she needed to hurry.
“Oh I almost forgot. You’ll come to the Jake’s party this evening, right?”
“Beach party? Not so sure, you know how I feel about it”
“It’s just on shore. I’ll be there too. Don’t worry, if anyone tries to drag you near the water then they’ll have to go through me” Janet smirked. Three years in Aikido is enough to take anyone down, not to mention she was a three times champion of the city, as if that isn’t intimidating enough but it ensures Olivia enough to have a good time by the sand.
“But this evening already? I thought it’s on 13th?”
“Today is the 13th, Goldfish. Did you fall head over heel for Jake so far that you forgot to check for the actual date?”
“I might have mistaken a Friday for a Saturday. But that doesn’t make me a goldfish! And goldfish have good memory! The five seconds attention span is a myth!” Olivia exclaimed
“I guess your attention span is probably so filled with Jake that you can only remembered that he has invited you~”
The two kept bickering as they walked each other to class, like all the other days.
  It was around eight when Olivia and Janet arrived at the party, and it sure is a lively one. The torch lit up the area but it was no match to the people’s dancing along the live music band. Sound of chatters mixed with the awry waves of the sea like a symphony. Olivia immediately spotted Jake in the crowd by the barbecue, greeting newcomers and grilled the ribs with his cheerful expression bright like sunlight. Janet could guess what millions thoughts going through her bestie’s mind as she pulled her over to the food court.
“Hey Jake, nice buns you got there. Mind if we have a taste?” Jake laughed wholeheartedly  
“Why I wouldn’t mind you two lovely ladies to have a taste of my delicious buns, of course!” A wink sent towards them as Olivia reddened
“I-I-I brought some cakes from Rosie’s! A-And I think it’s a great party!” Jake took the box from Olivia and gave both of them a small dish
“I love Rosie’s cake! This is great for desert! Thanks Olivia!”
And needless to say, Janet had to play the waitress and lead a very blush female to a table while holding two dish of steak.
“Oh Janet! Did you see him smiling at me? He’s so nice!” Janet have a gulp of soda after settling down and listening to her friend’s love rant.
“Eat your steak Olivia or I’ll help you know how it’s like to be fish”
“Alright, no need to do that. I’m not some toddler, you know” Olivia sulked and cut a piece
Olivia notice a newspaper left next to her seat, seemed like it was today’s news. Curious, she decided to have a look since Janet had went to get a second plate.
“BREAKING NEW:  SUCCESSFULLY FOUND THE ONLY SURVIVOR OF THE S.S HARVEY INCIDENT
Olivia Breston, eldest daughter of the Breston family and a bright student at Morrington University, was discovered barely breathing and unconscious on floating remains of the unfortunate ship by the fishermen of Devonne port. Lifeboat was sent immediately to revive and take Olivia to the closest hospital. 17h28 of 13th October, we received news …”
‘No way. Olivia… Breston… That’s… that’s my name!? I… I am dead?’
Janet returned back with a joyful meal in hand.
“Man! Jake sure have a knack for cooking! You’re a lucky one, Olivia!” Olivia didn’t respond, still deep in shock “Olivia?”
Olivia handed her the paper. Janet frowned before realization hit her. Surprisingly, she’s quite calm to react.
“So you found out. Any memory came back?”
Olivia shivered, shook her head.
“I survived, did I? So why… am I here? On this day, I was supposed to be found? But no?”
Janet moved next to her, sat down and comforted the confused girl.
“Do you want to know? Truly want to know?”
A silence between made the air thickened before Olivia gave a nod, reluctantly. Janet rubbed her shoulders soothingly.
“What you read is true. You are the only survivor of the S.S Harvey ship, a research ship directed by your father. You accompanied him on a field trip on 19th June when the ship got caught in bad weather, which later escalated into a sea storm. There was no news from the ship until…”
Janet pointed at the date and then at what supposedly to be warehouse, rather than what’s beside it. Needn’t to guess, Olivia could tell what Janet was trying to show her. But it didn’t explain everything that’s happening at the moment.
“I assume you’re wondering what’s happening right now. Care to take a blind guess?” Janet lighted a cig, savored that nicotine taste on the tip of her tongue before let out a wisp of white smoke.
“I died?”
“Eh, close enough. A coma. If you died, you wouldn’t be here to chit chat Livvy”
“Coma? But then, where am I?”
“Well, some might say it’s your subconscious so let just assume that it is. You didn’t die from the incident but drowning left you stranded in your brain, that’s all I could say.” Janet led her to the water. It seeped up close to their feet but it didn’t frighten Olivia no more
“I’m the fish of my own tank” Janet chuckled
“So you do remember”
“Yeah, I just got bits and bits of it. I chose to stay here, because there’s nothing out there for me, no one is waiting for me. At least I achieved my dream here, well, in a way” Olivia stepped back to clean sand, heart ached as she turned to Janet “Because in here I can see the one I held dear”
Janet tossed the burnt butt cig into the cool sand “Old habits die hard. You know, yet you still want to stay?”
“There’s no point going out there. I rather stay here”
“Alright, don’t keep Jake waiting on the dance floor.” Olivia headed back, blushed to the ear “After tonight, it’ll all be a bad dream”
“Wake up anew right?”
“Totally, Goldfish” Olivia’s shadow faded as now only Janet stood alone, water raised above her ankle. The way the ocean surging was unusual than before. There were whispers, cries lingered in the air. Moaned in pain. The thunder struck faraway on the surface warned the upcoming omen.
 “Time’s running out, Olivia”
--- Missielee ---
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