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sitepathos · 3 months ago

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From Gold to Mold

Chapter 7: The Realization

A/N: Thank you to everyone who’s enjoyed this series! When I had the idea for this, I had NO idea it was going to be as well loved as it’s become. I love and appreciate every like, follow, reblog, and ask!

As Bruce walks down the staircase and steps foot on the foyer’s marble floor, he realizes that something’s wrong. Well, he’s known that something’s been wrong for four years now, but he’s attributed it to his pile of never-ending cases, particularly the murder of the Joker and Harley Quinn, which has been eating away at him ever since that night and has occupied every corner of his mind. It’s been four years since he discovered their remains and he’s still in the dark, the only piece of evidence he has is some strange substance reminiscent of mold found within Joker’s remains.

What he’s currently feeling, however? It’s not the need to solve a case that threatens his city. It’s as if something is wrong with the manor itself, like there’s something missing. Something that he’s never paid much attention before but has always known is there, and now that something’s wrong, he can’t help but rack his brain for what it could be.

As he tries to thinks, he walks to the kitchen to find a snack (something pre-made, Alfred’s permanently banned him from ever cooking in his kitchen ever again) when he hears voices. Three voices, to be precise, and they’re definitely amused by something. As he gets closer, he can make out what they’re saying.

“I can’t believe he of all people would have this,” Tim says, an obvious smile intertwined in his tone.

“Hey, we’re all free to do what we want in our spare time,” Dick responds. “And if anyone in this house has earned spare time, it’s Alfred.”

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t do stuff he likes on his time off,” Tim quickly counters. “I’m just saying that I never would’ve expected him to be into stuff like this.”

“For once, I agree with Drake,” Damian, the third voice, interjects. “Pennyworth is a man of refined taste. For him to indulge in this childish entertainment is entirely unexpected. Only mindless buffoons would subject themselves to this drivel.”

“Hey,” Time exclaims, offended. “I happen to enjoy this ‘childish entertainment.’”

“My point stands. Once again, you prove your inferiority and poor breeding, Drake.”

That’s when Bruce decides to step in before a fight can break out in the kitchen (again) and enters, all three of his sons, who are crowding around something on the kitchen island, turning to him.

“Hey, B,” Dick says with his usual smile adorning his face.

“Hey,” Tim adds, glaring at Damian.

“Hello, Father,” Damian says, not sparing a glance at Tim and a ghost of a smirk on his face.

“Hello, boys. Is something wrong? I heard something about Alfred.”

“No, we just learned something amazing,” Dick answers, practically buzzing with joy. “You’ll never guess what Alfred’s into!”

This certainly catches his attention. He’s known his faithful butler his entire life and likes to think he knows everything about the man who raised him after his parents were killed. To find something out about the man he didn’t know before is something that’s definitely worth his attention.

“What,” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

The three of them part, revealing a laptop on the granite top. More specifically, it’s Alfred’s laptop. It’s strange enough that the man who takes the care of his kitchen as gospel would leave something like his laptop out in the open (especially since he’s always on their case about snooping on each other’s personal lives), but what really blows his mind is what’s on the screen: the menu for what appears to be a video game. It features what appears to be a derelict ship floating in space with soft music playing in the background and several options on the lower part and what he’s assuming is the title on the upper part: Salvage Rights.

“Alfred plays video games,” he asks, completely bewildered at the discovery.

“That’s what I said,” Tim exclaims. “I mean, I think it’s great if he wants to do that. I just didn’t expect him to be a gamer.”

“Don’t group Pennyworth in with your group of pathetic mouth breathers who don’t know what is fiction and what is reality.”

“So, what’s it about,” he asks, trying to stop a fight from breaking out in the kitchen that will net all of them in trouble.

“I’ve been trying to avoid spoilers, but from what I can tell you, it take place in the future after the sun imploded, forcing several fleets of ships to flee to a nearby star cluster, but only a few planets in the cluster can support human life naturally and several of them hold valuable resources, causing a war between three different factions to break out for control over the cluster,” his explains excitedly, making Bruce smile at the sight of his third son acting like a young man his age should. “You play the captain of a prospecting vessel that salvages derelict ships and during a salvage of a ship that dates back to before the sun imploding, you find something valuable that could determine who wins the war.”

“How absurd,” Damian mutters. “That story is utterly ridiculous. Whoever wrote it should be ashamed.”

“Who should be ashamed, Master Damian,” Alfred asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Whoever wrote the story for this absurd game you are apparently fond of,” his youngest son retorts.

“None of us thought you were into video games, Alfred,” Tim adds.

“I wouldn’t say that, Master Timothy, but I know its creator and I know he worked very hard to make the game you see before you. It makes me so happy that he finally achieved his goals and I want to do my part to support him. I hope he gets all the acclaim and recognition he rightfully deserves deserves.”

“Whoa, you know who he created Salvage Rights,” Tim asks, mesmerized. “Who?”

“It’s someone you all know: Master Y/N.”

Y/N? All of a sudden, he realizes a mistake he made earlier: Tim isn’t his third child, Y/N is. Wait, when was the last time he talked to his firstborn? Hell, when was the last time he talked to you? Wait, what do you even look like? How old are you?

This starts a cascade of realizations: he’s never celebrated your birthday. Or Christmas. Or even had a gala for you like all his children got to welcome them in his family.

“Y/N’s a video game developer,” Tim asks, breaking Bruce out of his thoughts. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, that’s because none of you have ever had a conversation with the poor lad,” Alfred retorts, his look of disapproval returning. “I never knew it was possible to not say a single word to someone you’ve lived with for years, but you showed me such a thing was possible.”

Bruce looks to his sons and upon seeing their expressions, he knows that none of them have talked to you, either. This definitely doesn’t bode well for them. Or you.

“Well, we should go talk to him,” Dick pipes up, trying to stay upbeat, but he’s obviously upset at this realization. He moves to leave the kitchen. “Is he in his room?”

“His room isn’t in the family wing,” Alfred responds, stopping Dick’s stride.

That’s when Bruce realizes that he’s never seen you coming or going from any of the bedrooms in their part of the manor. If your room isn’t with theirs, where do you sleep?

“His room is on the other side of the manor,” Alfred says, as if he read Bruce’s mind.

And with that, he leaves the kitchen and all four of them follow the butler, their steps heavy and slow from guilt. Bruce’s guilt only grows as they walk through corridor after corridor, eventually replace clean and pristine for dirty and decrepit. With a manor as large as Wayne Manor, cleaning is a battle, requiring an army to maintain it, but with Alfred being the only one, Bruce told the man to leave the uninhabited wings alone and only clean them when they have guests, which Bruce tries to keep to a minimum as someone in his position in Gotham’s high society can get away with.

Have you been staying in this forgotten part for the manor ever since you came to live here? With only dust and pests for company?

After he talks to you, he intends on moving you to the bedroom next to his; it’s been empty for years and has been going to waste. When you move into that room, he’ll check on you everyday, waking you up himself and walking you down to the dining room for breakfast every morning.

“Why is his room so far from ours, Pennyworth,” Damian asks.

“Well, when he first moved in, none of the rooms in the family wing weren’t fit to be slept in,” Alfred explains. “By the time I prepared a room for him, Master Timothy came to live with us and Master Y/N said he could have that room. Every time I finally got a room prepared for him, Master Bruce had a new addition to the family. By the time you joined the family, he insisted he remained where he was.”

That stopped all further questions, leaving them to process the new information in silence.

“Here we are,” Alfred announces when they reach a door on the far side of the manor.

Bruce decides that he needs to be the one to talk to you first, so he knocks on the door.

“Y/N,” he says after knocking once. “Can I come in?”

That’s when Alfred opens the door and before Bruce can say anything, he looks inside to see not only you not in there, but your room’s the size of a broom closet compared to the rooms all of them enjoy. One thing he notices is that the room’s surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the wing it resides in; based off the lingering smell of cleaning products, Alfred must’ve cleaned it recently.

“What a hovel,” Damian remarks as they enter, looking around.

“Indeed,” Alfred responds. “This is a guest room we specifically use for guests who are unwanted.”

Those words hit Bruce harder than Bane ever could. When Damian first moved in, he complained that the size was “insufficient” and he needed more room; so, he had a perfectly good bedroom be added on to his room, doubling its size to accommodate his pets, weapons, art supplies, and whatever else he keeps in there, instead of going to you and leaving you to rot in a guest room they use for people that aren’t wanted here.

He looks over at the bed to see the painfully small mattress is definitely past its prime, worn out from years of use. The bed frame isn’t a better, either based on the fact it looks like it’ll break at any moment. He presses a hand on the mattress and winces when he feels the large indention and hears the loud squeaking.

Good god, how did you even sleep on this thing for a day let alone for years? Not only does it look uncomfortable, but it’s barely big enough to hold a child, let alone… whatever you are.

“It’s pretty empty in here,” Tim remarks as he examines the dresser. “Guess there’s not a lot of room for decorations.”

“While there were very little decorations in here while he was living here, he took almost everything with him when he left, Master Dick. Very little was left behind. He told me I could destroy everything he left behind, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw away anything of his.”

Every second in here makes Bruce feel more horrible at how he’s treated his son. He needs to find you. Immediately.

“Where is he, Alfred,” Bruce asks, eager to find you and find some way to make amends.

“I’m afraid he doesn’t live in the manor anymore, Master Bruce. Master Y/N left us some time ago.”

Once again, Bruce feels like he’s been sucker punched in the gut, leaving him breathless. You moved out?

“When,” Dick asks, clearly upset.

“Four years ago. The night he graduated from Gotham Academy.”

“That’s when I graduated,” Tim realizes.

Bruce remembers that: four years ago on the night Tim was set to graduate, he and all of his children (well, all except you) were busy combing Gotham for Joker and Harley’s killer, listening in on countless criminals celebrating the Clown Prince of Crime’s demise.

Christ, he can remember that, but not his own son? He knew he wasn’t the best father in the world (despite the mug that says otherwise courtesy of Dick), but he had no idea he had failed one person so much. How much he failed his firstborn son.

“Wait,” Bruce spits out. “If he graduated and none of us were there, who was with him?”

Oh god, if Alfred says no one was with him, he actually cry in front of all of them. To know that his son had no one to celebrate his big night would drive him off the edge.

“I was, Master Bruce.” Hearing that makes him feel a bit better, but not enough to really do anything about the pit of guilt building in his stomach. The butler pulls out his phone and types on it before holding it up for them to see. “This is him walking with his classmates.”

He watches the video of you (fuck, you’re so much older than he remembers) wearing the traditional black and gold gown for all Gotham Academy graduates (he sees the usual black and gold cap has been decorated, but he can’t see from this angle), walking in line with your fellow classmates, all of them wearing caps and gowns.

That’s when he realizes that there’s no pictures of you anywhere in the manor. He instantly thinks of the last family portrait he had commissioned (around the time Damian moved in) hanging above the mantle in the living room, which has him sitting in an elegant white and gold trimmed cushioned chair in the center with a ten-year-old Damian on his right, Barbara in her wheelchair on his left, and behind him from left to right is Cass, Steph, Tim, Jason, Dick, and Alfred.

A family portrait that he treasures not including you. Right now, it feels like he can cry and throw up at the same time.

“Here’s him receiving his diploma,” Alfred says as he swipes right, displaying another video.

Sure enough, the video playing shows the headmaster calling your name (Gould, not Wayne), you walking to the man and receiving your diploma with your left hand and shaking the headmaster’s hand with your right, and walking back to your chair. Each new revelation about you makes the cavern of guilt he’s standing in even deeper; finding out that your last name isn’t his and must be your mother’s, telling the world that there’s no connection between you and him, even though half your DNA came from him.

“A staff member was taking pictures of the graduates as they shook hands with the headmaster and she was kind enough to send it to me,” Alfred says as he swipes again, revealing a picture of you and the headmaster.

He only needs a split second to commit your details to memory. H/c sticking out from your cap that he can tell you’ve decorated and e/c that must come from your mother. And that’s when he realizes that while the color is different, their shape matches his mother’s perfectly. And isn’t that just twisting the knife in his gut.

“And this picture was taken after the ceremony.”

That’s when he sees you as perfectly as he can, standing next to Alfred, who is at an event that he should’ve been at, not looking to arrest someone who killed the man who’s terrorized Gotham for two decades. Nothing happened that night, he should’ve taken the night off to see both of his sons graduate, cheering them on and hugging them after receiving their diplomas.

“Is he still in Gotham,” Damian asks, his voice even, but Bruce can tell his youngest son feels guilty, something he’s only expressed a handful of times during his stay here.

“No, Master Damian, I’m afraid Master Y/N went back home.”

“‘Home,’” Dick exclaims. “This is his home!”

On one hand, Bruce wants to agree with Dick, that the manor is the only place you should call “home,” but on the other hand, he knows that with the way they treated you, he would understand why you’d want to leave him. Leave all of them.

“I’m afraid he felt differently. He told me that he’d been looking forward to going back to the home he lived with his mother. Apparently, the lack of affection and attention from his so-called family made him plan to move back when he turned eighteen, but I was able to convince him to stay so he could graduate.”

It made sense. After being ignored for years, why would you stay when you could leave? Bruce knows this, but now, all he wants is for you to move back in so he can give you all the love you can handle. He wants to have inside jokes with you, to give you a shoulder to cry on when the world overwhelms you, to take you out on quality time with just you and him.

He wants to do all the things for you that he does for his other kids. Things that he should’ve been doing for you from day one. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts only to find that you’re not only in his house, but you’re not even in his phone. He hasn’t had a single conversation with you in person, why would he think he’s had a conversation with you over text?

“Where is he now,” Bruce asks, his voice hollow and empty even to him.

Right now, all he wants is to learn where you are and try to find some way to make his transgressions up to you.

“I was led to believe Batman is the ‘world’s greatest detective,’” Alfred retorts, an eyebrow raised. “Are you unable to find your son on your own?” Bruce looks at him, making the butler sigh. “He moved back to his home in Goodsprings, Nevada.”

He didn’t even know where you came from before coming to live here. If there was an Olympic event for shitty fathers, Bruce would take home the gold in a landslide right now.

“Of course, you may have a golden opportunity to see him tomorrow night.” Alfred pulls his phone towards him, types something on it, and shows it to them again.

On the screen is a website for something called the Gamer’s Gala, a massive event held yearly where gamers go to see what new video games are planned to be released in the future and where game developers have an opportunity to win the “Golden Joystick,” a trophy given based off their game’s success during the year.

He scrolls through the website to find all the games up for awards and sees Salvage Rights by Gould Games in top contention for Indie Game of the year! He’s so excited to see you’ve found success in your passion and wants to see you walk on stage and accept the award, cementing your place as one of the greatest developers in the world.

According to the website, it’s being held in Metropolis this year due it being hosted completely by Lex Corp and that gets his blood boiling. No doubt this is some attempt to win public favor after yet another failed attempt to kill Superman and he thinks by doing this, people will forget all about whatever illegal activities he was up to his neck in. Had he known this sooner, he would’ve pulled the right to host the event out from under Lex’s feet, sparing no expense to ensure it was the biggest ceremony in the event’s history.

And of course, he’d invite you to stay at the manor the entire time, a room prepared just for you. Right next to his.

“The event is tomorrow night. I believe Batman can take one night off so Bruce Wayne can attend.” Alfred pulls something out from his pocket and holds it up to Bruce. “Master Y/N was kind enough to send me a ticket so I could be there for the biggest night of his life.”

Bruce takes the ticket and looks at it closer. According to the glossy golden ticket, it’s awarding the recipient special seating at a section of the hall reserved only for the friends, families, and special guests of candidates and offering them access to the Developer Lounge, a section of the convention center that only game developers and their guests can enter, where they can eat and drink all they want for free, all of it paid for by Lex Luthor.

When he gets back to the office, he plans on making that man’s life hell. It was bad enough that he somehow came in four years ago and undercut WE with products that he knows for certain were based off his company’s but he has no idea how Luthor was able to get his hands on classified technical specs, costing him and his company several contracts and millions in revenue for that fiscal year, but now, he’s gone and made the biggest night of his son’s life even better, something that he should’ve done.

This ticket is not way of witnessing the greatest moment in your life, but to try to repair his relationship with you.

“Why don’t we all go,” Dick pipes up, looking very uncomfortable. “We should all be there with for him. You know, as a family!”

“I agree with Greyson,” Damian adds. “We should all be there.”

“I’ll get us tickets,” Tim says as he pulls out his phone and begins to type on it.

“I think Master Bruce should go alone,” Alfred says, making all of them look at the butler. “This is a very delicate situation and if the entire family goes, it could make things worse. For now, allow your father to speak to your brother by himself.

The pained looks on his boys’ faces makes him feel even worse than he already does. He knows that they want to make up for how they treated you just like him, but right now, he’s not even sure how you’ll react seeing him, let alone the entire family.

He’ll do whatever it takes to bring you home so they can show you the love you deserved back then. And then, they’ll all be one happy family.

“Thanks, Alfred,” he says as he carefully tucks the ticket into his coat, treating it like a precious artifact and not a flimsy piece of paper. “I have to get ready.”

As he leaves, he makes a note to give the butler a pay rise. Not just for giving him the ticket meant for him, but for helping him realize his mistake and for being there for his son.

As he heads to his room to pack a bag, he makes arrangements to stay at a penthouse as the hotel connected to the convention center so he can get there quickly and hopefully get to talk to you before the award ceremony. He also purchases your game in order to have something to talk to you about, hoping you’ll be touched by him supporting your career as a developer (he’ll also carefully analyze the game to high heaven in hopes of learning more about you) and starts drafting plans for Alfred to prepare your new room, allowing the butler to buy anything and everything he thinks you’d like, from furniture to decorations.

He briefly thinks about calling Clark and asking him to monitor the convention hall for any trouble from Lex, but quickly decides against it. Y/N is his son and he’ll protect him with his own hands, not relying on the Kryptonian. If Lex tries any shit during the ceremony, he’ll pull every underhanded trick in the book to buy out Lex Corp only to raze it to the ground and salt the earth where it once stood.

Whatever it takes, he’ll see you accept the trophy you so rightly deserve and after that, he’ll talk to you fact to face and beg you to forgive him, take you into his arms and apologize for not being the father you needed him to be. And after that, he’ll bring you back to the manor, where you’ll stay in a room next to his, where him and your siblings will keep you company from day in to day out. And when he brings you home, he’ll commission another family portrait that’s large enough to take up an entire wall and has you in the center with all of them surrounding you.

At last, they’ll be the family you deserve. The family you should’ve had when you became a part of their family.

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horseshoegirl · 2 years ago

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Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 14 - Sex on Fire

📓 We have fluff! We have some smut!

This song specifically was one of the big three that inspired this fic! When I saw TGM and the scene at the end when Mav takes Penny up in his plane, this song matched the vibe, and I knew I wanted this for Jake and Liz.

Though I would love for you guys to try and guess which one is the song that inspired the whole story! Cause there is one! 👀

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child character, sexual themes (I mean Smut, so get outta here if you ain't +18,), FLUFF, aerophobia, and second dates.

#7k

Part 13 | Masterlist | Part 15

(Bradley's Spin-Off one shot here)

Jake and Sadie were conniving little lunatics.

Scratch that. Sadie was an annoying insect who knew how to push buttons to get what she wanted. Jake was a gullible poor sod who had the habit of being played by said insect more than once. Because you knew without a doubt, sitting in the front seat of Jake's truck, blindfolded without any idea where you were going, this had her name written all over it.

"Is the blindfold really necessary, Jake?"

"If you knew where I was taking you, you'd jump out of my truck in an instant."

"That's not very reassuring."

Jake chuckled, bringing your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles. "Sadie would kill me if I didn't follow through on this. After all our hard work."

"So you're doing this more for her than me," you tease. You could hear the smile in his voice when Jake replied, "The ladybug incident didn't scare you enough. Sadie's scary when she wants to be."

You chuckled softly, Jake joining in as you felt his thumb stroke across your knuckles.

Going on a date had been the last thing on your mind.

Tyler was still a major concern. Even with Cyclone keeping a watchful eye on the group of police assigned to Sadie and your case, they still needed actual leads. You hadn't paid much attention to his phone call the other day, explaining the pressure on Tyler's father to drop out of his political race or how Tyler's stupid white car was spotted on the interstate, leaving California altogether.

It should have brought you some comfort, but it didn't. The longer time stretched on, the more anxious you felt, wondering when he would make his next move.

Then there was also the matter of Bradley. Stupid, over-emotional, Bradley.

It had been days since Sadie found you in the bathtub - days since the fight. You hadn't heard from him, nor did you expect to. Maybe a tiny part of you didn't want him to reach out. But any nasty thoughts you harboured for him in the days following only managed to turn themselves into pity.

You knew his story. Mav told it enough times for you to recite it by heart. Bradley had only been two when his father tragically passed away. And Carole, his mom, had been devastated. You couldn't begin to understand the circumstances he had to go through as a kid. Each time Mav told the story, he always stressed that no love could have matched Carole and Goose's.

It's no wonder Bradley felt their loss in the way that he did. And you did feel partially guilty, wondering if talking to him about everything before it had gotten this bad would have made a difference. But it was clear he was internalizing something bigger than just hurt feelings.

You weren't going to make the first move. That would have to be up to him.

It better be a damn good apology.

The idea of a possible date started when Sadie had called you a panicking-inducing hermit, much to Jake's amusement, scared to do anything remotely fun outside the confines of the house. Honesty? It was more to do with the fact there had been no sign of Tyler, no white car following you or sitting outside your house to encourage your paranoia.

You had gone to bed early after that, Jake and Sadie staying up playing a game of cards. You had no idea what time it was when Jake climbed into your bed, waking you up in the process when he pulled you into his chest. But it was definitely later than it should have been for a game of cards.

Jake had stayed with the two of you. Every morning you got to wake up either next to him or in his arms. The Daggers were still grounded; whether it was repairs or upper politics of the Navy, you weren't sure. But you were utterly grateful for his presence.

It became evident that it was clearly more than a game of cards the following morning. Because in the hours after breakfast, Sadie made herself scarce. And Jake purposely kept you away from the garage, where he had parked his truck, in case Tyler decided to visit.

Sadie's maniacal laughter was another indication, so loud you could hear it through the garage walls. You were slightly concerned about what Jake was letting her do in there.

But it all came to a head when Nat and Bob showed up at your door, telling you they were watching Sadie for the night, the Bug in question grinning ear to ear as she joined you at the door. You tried to refuse. You didn't want to leave her alone. In a surprise move, Sadie pouted at you.

She had never once pouted over anything. No, she pushed, sassed, humoured, and produced receipts when she wanted to get her way.

It freaked you out, so much so you couldn't bring yourself to say no. Which is how you found yourself in the passenger seat of Jake's truck, Nat and Bob standing with her on your front porch as she shouted for both of you to have a good time as he backed out of your driveway.

This was the worst possible timing. And yet, after everything they did, you felt like you owed it to them to try.

"You deserve this, darlin'." Jake's voice breaks through your thoughts, knowing you feel guilty. You squeeze his hand, dropping your chin to your chest. You have to remind yourself that Sadie is safe at home with Nat and Bob, probably arguing over music or what board game to play. And most importantly, you were allowed to take time to do things like this.

It's a few more minutes before Jake finally parks his truck, letting go of your hand and gently taking hold of your face. "Do you promise to give this a chance?"

"I don't even know what you've gotten me into. What Sadie and you got me into."

You can't see his face, so you can't tell what he's thinking. But you can imagine what he looks like right now as you feel him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. You bet he's staring at you apprehensively, gritting his jaw, and letting out a tiny huff of breath.

"You trust me, right?"

You turn your head to place a kiss on the palm of his hand. "You know I do, Jake."

"Then trust me when I say you won't regret this." You sucked in a breath before you nodded.

Jake lets go of your face to get out of his truck, walking around to open your door and help you out of your seat. You were instantly met with the smell of gasoline and pavement, the hot waves travelling up the bare skin of your legs, and your dress slightly flowing in the wind. There's a second where you think you heard the rumble of an engine or a zoom of a plane, but Jake doesn't give you much time to think about it as he helps you step down and shuts the door behind him.

Looping your arm through his, he leads you away, walking for a bit until he stops and turns to face you, squeezing your hand.

"Stay here," he says, letting you go. You cross your arms over your chest as you wait for him, hearing the sound of keys rattling together, sliding metal and a chain dragging along the ground. And then that's it. Besides the sound of wind in your ears and a few birds chirping, you don't hear any sign of him, and it makes you wonder if he's left you alone, standing in the middle of nowhere.

Until you feel his hand gently touching your arm, and you jolt slightly. "It's just me, Liz."

He guides you forward, making you stand in one spot, hands steadying you by your elbows. You feel him against your back for a few seconds before he's working at the knot of the blindfold.

"Just remember you promised," he said before taking it off.

You opened your eyes - to Mav's plane staring back at you.

You understood why the blindfold was necessary. You would have jumped out of his truck in an instant.

"Jake..."

"I said I would get you into a plane for our second date," he said, proud of himself. You knew where this was leading, what he wanted to do. You subconsciously stepped backwards, the words "absolutely not" escaping your lips.

You didn't get very far. Your back met Jake's chest, and he instantly had his arms around you, trapping your body against his. You turn, burying your face in his chest. "I'm terrified of flying, Jake."

"I'm going to be with you the whole time. I promise Liz, nothing bad is going to happen to you." He has the entire nape of your neck in his hand while this other hand is rubbing down the length of your spine in a comforting manner.

You don't know where your fear of flying came from. You've never been up in a plane before, a fact you certainly wouldn't admit to Jake. You were okay with heights, hikes on mountainside cliffs and long car drives.

Maybe it was the idea of not being in control of your body or being grounded.

"Jake, I don't know about this," you admit into his shirt. He presses his lips into your hair before explaining, "I won't let anything happen to you. We're just going up for a simple flight. The wind is perfect right now. There will be no turbulence. Trust me; I'm not called the best aviator at Top Gun for nothing."

He takes his hand off your neck to lift your chin. "Please," he urged, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Let me share something about my life that I love."

It was then, at that moment, you realized Jake and Sadie had something very much in common.

You could never say no to either of them.

___

If anyone had told you a week ago you would be sitting in the backseat of a plane, currently taxing down to a runway, you probably would have dropped dead on the spot. Even with your nerves on fire and a strong case of nausea, you let Jake help you up and into the back seat once he pulled the plane out of the hangar with little protest.

He was so excited to share this with you. Whether it was in how he helped buckle you into the seat or when he placed the headset on your head, there was a side to him you hadn't seen before. Almost giddiness, you thought, despite every internal voice you ever had screaming at you to run for the freaking hills. Even then, you were grateful you got to see this side of him.

As Jake speaks with the control tower expertly, you dart your eyes around the cabin. While there wasn't anything in terms of controls in the backseat with you, everything still looked old. The seat felt old. The buckles of the straps tying you down looked old. Even the walls looked old.

You also felt higher than you should, staring down at the plane's wings, eyes scoring the features, the colours, and the bumps. You knew you wouldn't find anything wrong. Jake was extremely thorough in his flight check, and you knew Mav cared for this thing like it was his child. But you were still scared, even believing if Sadie could do this multiple times with Maverick, who without a doubt took her for joyrides, you could handle a simple flight with Jake.

You should have fought harder to say no. You should have fought harder to say no.

Jake turns back slightly, looking at you from the corner of his eye. "I know it might seem scary, Liz. But trust me. I got you. We'll go slow."

Jake flies in an F-18, a machine capable of much more than whatever Mav's hobby plane could do. So his definition of slow is highly relative. It makes you feel nervous, wondering what he had planned for you.

It isn't until Jake pushes the plane forward onto the runway that you realize you have to accept that this is happening. Then he's accelerating forward, and you cannot help but hold your breath.

Adrenaline floods your veins as the plane takes off, gravity attempting to pull you back down in heavy anger. You slam your eyes shut, trying to force air into your lungs. The angle seems wrong, and you have this feeling both of you will crash into something, making you turn your face into your shoulder to hide.

Even when the plane levels out and things seem okay enough, you can't open them. Your heart is in your ears, and you're trying not to hyperventilate or make a noise. You don't want to ruin this for him. Because deep down, you knew, even with all the teasing and assurances, Jake would turn the plane around for you the second he got the slightest indication you were seriously freaked out.

So, for the longest time, you keep them shut, nothing but your heartbeat in your ears and the rumble of the old engine to keep you company. Even with Jake making this ride as smooth as possible, you couldn't help but alternate between gripping the edges of the seat or hugging yourself tight.

Don't open your eyes. Don't look down. Don't open your eyes. Don't look down.

"You alright?" Jake's voice crackled through the headset. First, you nodded with a hard sallow. But then you realize Jake couldn't see you. Your voice trembled as you managed to reply with, "Yes."

He chuckled to himself, the noise warm and full of amusement. He knew. He always did when it came to you.

"Open your eyes, Liz," Jake urged gently, his voice a mix of reassurance and excitement. "I'm not going to murder you if that's what your thinking."

Despite your anxiety, a smile manages to break through at his words. Actually, they are your words from the day of the hike when you took him down that hazardous unpaved road to the thrift shop. That had been so long ago, way before anything to do with Tyler, Bradley, or even before whatever this was with him.

He had given you the benefit of the doubt then. You owed it to do the same for him now. Shuttering a deep breath, you gathered the courage to open your eyes slowly.

At first, you half expected to fixate on the view of the ground underneath the plane's wings or catch a glimpse of the shoreline or ocean. That you'd hyperventilate, witnessing perhaps an engine on fire or a piece of Mav's plane missing, flapping in the wind.

You saw none of those things.

Jake had taken the two of you further North of the airport, towards a group of mountains. You were right in the middle of them, green caps and tall peaks making you forget you were even bound to the seat of the plane.

This wasn't flying.

This felt like soaring.

Jake banked the plane around one particular mountain, a tall one at the very end of the group. It wasn't until he purposely straightened out after circling around it, did the sun fully come into view. It was already beginning its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky with various hues and shades of fiery oranges, soft pinks and yellows.

The view from the Ferris wheel at the Fair had nothing on this.

Humans weren't supposed to witness views like this. They weren't supposed to be up this high, feeling like they could touch the clouds or be this close to the sun. Or see the shine, this bright, off the peaks of mountains or even be this parallel with them.

This was only something anyone could ever dream about seeing

As the plane glided through the sky, you could feel the sun's warmth casting a gentle light on your face. You closed your eyes, not out of fear this time, but contentment, placing your hands on either side of the window and taking a deep breath.

But when you opened your eyes, your eyes began to water, and you found yourself biting your lip as you looked back toward the sun. The words spilled out of you before you knew you had said them, your voice almost sounding broken as a single tear escaped down your cheek.

"Hi, Ridely."

Because there was something about being up here, in the clouds and the surrounding mountains and feeling the sun on your face, that brought you that much closer to her. Some part of you felt guilty for refusing Mav, Nat and even Rooster, to some degree, to take you up and experience this.

She was here with you. And you had never felt more free.

"You ready?" Jake asked you. Unknown to you, he was smiling, having heard your remark. You looked at the back of his head, a grin adding to the happy tears gracing your face. "For what?"

Jake didn't give you a reply. Instead, the plane tilted, and suddenly, the world was turning on its axis. A squeal caught in your throat as you found yourself spinning upside down.

"JAKE, YOU MOTHERFU.."

But your voice caught in your throat before you could finish your sentence, Jake laughing at your reaction.

Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. You didn't really know what to think about it, whether gravity would be pulling you out of your seat or seeing the world below would make you pass out.

The small part of you, still holding on to your fear, wanted to be mad at him. But the part of you, the one secretly enjoying the entire experience, won out.

The truth was, you couldn't help the laughter suddenly escaping your mouth. You couldn't help the smile as Jake accelerated the plane. Or when he let the nose dip ever so slightly to let it fall, you couldn't help the shout of exhilaration.

The rules of aviation or flight were beyond you as he controlled the plane through the air, nerves dying out and instead being replaced with pure joy.

You really could have cared less about being mad at him now.

The world below, and every problem in it, disappeared. And you were alright with that.

___

You didn't want to admit to yourself as Jake finally landed the plane that you never wanted that to end. Even if you should be feeling relief at being on solid ground or when he parked the plane in front of the hanger, you were high on adrenaline and sheer joy.

You peered up at Jake's hesitant face after he helped you climb out of the plane, standing on wobbly legs. You couldn't do anything but pull him down by the back of his head and kiss him hard. He laughed into the kiss, rubbing his hands up and down your side as he spoke against your lips. "I take it your not afraid of flying anymore?"

You pull away, pressing your forehead to his chin. "Only if you are flying the plane."

It's feeding his ego, you are sure. His chest puffs out under your hands, and that cocky smirk he's known for returns, present in the kisses he's placing on your head.

"So I still have a girlfriend, then?"

You stiffen. Jake would want to put a title on this, even if it was only your 'official' second date. The both of you have done so much of this backwards, way outside the box of how 'normal' relationships were supposed to go. But in a few weeks, Jake and you went from a first date to sleeping in the same bed to him staying over for a week.

When was your and Jake's relationship ever straightforward? And as you told yourself in that bathroom at the fair, there was nothing wrong with being in love with Jake Seresin.

"I didn't know you had one," you say nonchalantly. Jake plays along, hands gripping your hips.

"Oh, you didn't hear? Big Bad Hangman is suddenly enamoured with this assertive, savvy bartender at the Hard Deck. Turned him down flat on his ass the first time they met. Didn't stop him from wanting to be around her, though."

"The shameless, cocky flirt who says the wrong thing at the wrong time, humbled by her and her sassy niece." He leans down to whisper in your ear. "Not to mention she's fucking hot."

You hummed, nodding your head and purposely avoiding looking at his face when he pulled back, your cheeks flaring up hard.

"Will you look at me, Liz?"

"I can't."

Jake laughs at your reply. "You can't? Now why's that?"

"Because you're all ego right now and boastful, and you get that cocky smirk when you do," you mummer, still purposely avoiding his eyes. That cocky smirk grows even wider as Jake tugs your hips into his.

"You mean this cocky smirk?" he teases, pressing his nose to yours, maintaining his smile. You're fighting with yourself not to smile, but it's a battle you've already lost. Jake nuzzles his nose against yours before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, still grinning. And then another to your cheek, just below your eye, before he's littering your face with them, and you laugh as you try to escape him.

"But if you really want to know," he says after you give in, smiling at him as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. "I think you were mine the second you gave me that clean slate in your kitchen."

"I was yours?" you press playfully, quirking an eyebrow. Jake pauses for a second, making a show of having to think about his answer. Till his face lights up in recognition, and he says," Oh wait."

He makes a show of standing straighter, dropping his voice lower and making his southern accent purposely thicker. "You've bewitched me body and soul since that night in your kitchen."

"Oh," you laugh wholeheartedly, knowing precisely what he's doing. "You're not trying to, Mr. Darcy, this!?"

He frowns. "I thought you liked Pride and Prejudice."

You grin at him, your hands working through his hair before you kiss his lips, pulling back slightly to mummer against his mouth. "That was before I had a decorated hotshot Navy fighter pilot sleeping in my bed."

Jake growls, and you giggle as he bends you backwards, kissing you again.

Stowing away Mav's plane didn't take very long. The two of you were on the road with daylight still out and Jake telling you the night was far from over. He took you to your favourite takeout place before driving to an Outlook, telling you he'd like to come here to think things through.

You know he intends for the both of you to sit on the flatbed of his truck when he backs it into the parking spot, purposely making it face out towards the water. He presses a button before the two of you get out, making the back cover come off.

But Sadie's involvement in conspiring to get you into the backseat of Mav's plane clearly didn't end with the blindfold. Because the second two of you walk around and Jake drops the tailgate, Sadie's handiwork glares back at you.

You don't know where to look first. Your air mattress sits in the flatbed with a spare mattress cover. A few pairs of blankets are covering it, and you know she would have needed help to get the two spare pillows sitting at the back, the ones you kept on the top shelf of your linen closet.

Of course, Jake could have managed this all on his own. But the dead giveaway was the lights. It only could have been Sadie who had taken the battery-operated string lights you had on the bookcase in your family room and strung them to the sides of his truck, the electrical tape you knew had been Jake's idea.

When you get over your shock, you turn to Jake, absolutely speechless that he let her do all this. He shrugged like it was no big deal. "What? I have to give her credit. Bug's creative."

He set the bag of food down before placing his hands on your waist, lifting you up to sit on the edge of the tailgate. "Get yourself comfy, darlin'."

You didn't move. For the sole fact you were wearing a knee-high dress, and if you turned to climb on top of the mattress, he'd get a pretty nice view of your ass. He shot you a look once he hopped up, and you shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "You can go first."

He chuckled knowingly. "Nothing I ain't going to see eventually."

It was nice to know Jake's ability to make you bush hadn't waned after recent events.

The two of you settled up against the pillows, takeout containers in both of your laps as you ate, talking about Sadie and what it might look like for her when he had to return to school next week. Then his phone rang. You spied the face-time ID as Jake reached for it on the blanket in front of him.

Janet.

He looked guilty as he asked, "Do you mind if?"

You shook your head, smiling around the fork in your mouth before managing, "Of course not."

Jake handed you his takeout container, bringing his phone up to answer the call. But instead of his sister's face, he was greeted by the sight of a baby in a blue cap.

"Surprise!" Janet's tired voice rang out through the speaker. "Meet your nephew!"

Jake's eyes glazed over the second he stared down at his phone. His hand holding his phone slightly shook, and he reached out to grip the edge of his truck with a thump. You couldn't help yourself when you dropped the takeout containers onto the blanket in front of you and peered up over his shoulder.

"Oh my god, he's adorable."

Suddenly, the camera flipped on his phone, and Jake's sister was staring back at both of you.

Even in a hospital gown, her exhaustion evident, it was clear Janet was Jake's sister. Her hair was the same colour, her eyes the same shade of green. Her mouth was the same shape, and you were sure if she smiled, you would undoubtedly see Jake's same smile beaming back at you.

"Shit, he wasn't kidding when he said you were gorgeous."

You ducked, hiding your face behind Jake's shoulder, heat rising in your cheeks. Whether it was the quickness of your escape or Janet's revealing words, Jake seemed to snap out of his daze.

"Janet!"

"Hey, I gotta embarrass you where I can. Call it payback for all the times you shared my dirty little secrets with Ian."

"Those weren't secrets, Jan. He needed to know what he was getting himself into."

"Bless his heart for it too."

You shook your head, chuckling into the back of Jake's shirt at their banter. Jake looks over his shoulder at you, slightly amused.

"Come out, Liz," Janet called out from the phone. "I don't bite."

"Much," Jake grumbled.

This wasn't exactly how you imagined meeting his sister, one of the few people he actually considered his family. Slowly lifting your head from behind Jake's frame, you managed a hesitant smile, gripping him for dear life. "Congratulations, Janet."

She smiled at you, replying, "Twelve hours of labour, but it was so worth it."

"What did you name him?" you asked, unable to contain the joy in your voice.

"E.J.," she said, looking down at the bundle in her arms before returning to look at the screen, clarifying, "Elijah-Jacob."

Jake drew in a sharp breath, and Janet didn't hesitate when she cried out, "As if I would name him anything else, you idiot."

Resting your chin on Jake's shoulder, you peered up at the side of his face with an affectionate smile. "Your full name's Jacob?"

But he didn't answer you, instead asking his sister, "Now, why on earth would you do something as stupid as that?"

Janet shot him a disappointed look before her eyes tracked over to you. "Liz, will you help me out here?" she said, tilting her head toward Jake.

"Glady," you replied, tapping the back of his head. Jolting under your chin, Jake faced you, slightly shocked. But you only shot him a disapproving glare.

"You're my baby brother. You risk your f-ing life day in and day out every single time you go up in that jet of yours or go out on deployments to make sure everyone else can sleep safely at night. And when you are home? I won't even start on all the shit you stand up against, not with Liz here."

Janet lets out a huge sigh before exclaiming, "So don't question my judgment or my choice. There was no way I was going to name him anything else. Suck it up."

Jake could only shake his head in disbelief, a humbling smile growing with each passing second.

"Now, hand me over to Liz. I wanna talk to her properly."

This is so backwards, you think, as Jake passes his phone over to you with a knowing smile. You are suddenly filled with nervousness you are not used to. This was the one person you knew Jake sought approval from. Everything was riding on this one interaction.

But your nerves settle instantly when she grins at you and casually mentions, "So, he managed to get you up in that death trap."

"It seems everyone knew about this little plan but me, even my niece, dead centre in the middle of it."

Janet grins at the mention of Sadie. "From what Jake has told me about her, she's a girl after my own heart."

"Sassy? Opinionated? Knows how to get her way?"

"Something more like being an insect, but I can see where the similarities lie."

You chuckle softly, feeling Jake rub your side, before you say, "You remind me of her."

"I'd love to meet her one day. And you in person. "

"I'd like that. I'm sure she'd love you."

Jake shook his head violently, and you couldn't help but laugh at him. "My nephew will get all sorts of horrible ideas if he meets Sadie. Don't start him that young!"

You gasp at him. "Are you saying my niece is a troublemaker, Jake Seresin?"

"You know she is."

You shake your head, bumping him with your shoulder.

"Please get my number from my little brother over here. I want somebody to send cute baby pics to," Janet pouts.

"Could you send me embarrassing stories?" you wiggle your eyebrows. Janet smirks, a playful look in her tired eyes. "Oh, you want them. I'll give them to you, no problem."

Oh boy, did you like her.

"Nope." Jake tries to reach for his phone, but you are quicker, laughing at his attempts as you stretch your hand out of his reach. "You have a ten-year-old in the palm of your hand who has an honesty problem and years of embarrassing stories about me. Let me have my chance!"

"In comparison? Nope. Not even close. Give me my phone." Jake holds out the palm of his hand. And then you get an idea, shooting him a playful stare as you extend your hand farther.

"Come and get it, Cowboy."

Suddenly, Jake lurches forward, almost toppling you over. Jake's efforts to retrieve his phone only cause you to break out in a fit of giggles, your stomach cramping so much you fall over into the air mattress, Jake landing on top of you. Your grip on his phone is still tight.

"If my sister wasn't on the other end..." There is no threat in his words. Jake's smiling with you as you continue to laugh, trying to pry the device out of your hand. Janet's shout through her own laughter interrupts the two of you. "Keep it pg, you two! Literal newborn ears over here!"

Jake manages to swipe his phone back when you laugh even harder at her words. You sit up, wrapping your arms around his as you try to fit yourself into the view of his phone screen when the two of you settle.

Janet looks up at something in her room and frowns. "I gotta go. The nurse will come back any minute and yell at me, I swear."

The both of you say your goodbyes, Janet explaining more than once she was happy Jake found you. But just before he went to end the call, Janet called out his name.

"Watch out for a package from Texas coming up there."

Jake's smile flees at Janet's words, slowly dissolving into a sombre expression. His body tenses under your touch, and you see the second his eyes darken with a deep-seated seriousness. It's a side to Jake you've only truly ever seen once before - when he found you handcuffed on the floor of the Hard Deck.

Growing up, you and Ridley had all sorts of codewords and phrases for different things. Those were the unfortunate circumstances you had to live with as a kid. So you knew right away Janet didn't mean an actual package. Whatever it was, Jake was clearly not happy about it. It was making you deeply concerned.

Jake reaches for your thigh, grip tightening when he replies, "Yeah, okay."

He hangs up. And doesn't mention anything else about it.

After finishing your dinner in silence, you sat next to Jake, staring out at the horizon. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you tight to his side. At some point, you had placed both of your legs over his lap, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

It was still light out when Jake and you left the tiny airport, and the sky was now turning dark, leaving the small parking lot of Jake's outlook out secluded, the two of you alone and in utter peace. His fingers were absentmindedly stroking your skin as you both took in the last few minutes of the sunset.

"You okay?" you asked him, kissing his shoulder before looking back over the water, suddenly aware of Jake's hand slowly getting closer to the inside of your thigh. He kissed your cheek, replying, "Never better."

You don't buy it.

"You're an uncle now," you wondered aloud. Jake shrugged. "I already was one."

"But it's different. Sadie is..."

"Sadie counts." He quickly corrected you, kissing your forehead before looking back to the water. "She'll always count."

It warms you, his level of affection for her, but you cannot help but detect a sense of finality in his tone. Reaching up, you cradled the side of his jaw, turning his head back to you so you could lean up and kiss him.

Jake presses his lips to yours softly before pulling back to look at you. There's something in his eyes you cannot name.

Then his lips are back on yours, this time steady and encompassing, parting your lips with his tongue. Your grip on his face tightens as you suddenly find yourself being tilted backwards, sliding down the pillows until Jake is half on top of you. Your head is pillowed on his bicep as he kisses you, your hand still cradling his jaw.

He then goes for your neck in a desperate breath, open-mouth kisses, sucking harder and harder. You're used to this. The two times Jake had you pinned up against him, he had marked up the side of your neck. But his hand, not trapped under your head, is wandering. Groping at your breast, sliding down your stomach to the outside of your thigh, testing his grip.

He hikes your outside leg up, fingers brushing the sensitive part inside your thigh.

Your breath hitches.

"Is this okay?" he whispered into your ear. You hummed your reply, nodding once. But Jake grazed his nose along your jawbone lightly, fingers delicately sliding up and down the inside of your thigh.

"Words, Elizabeth."

Damn him and his accent, saying your full name.

"Yes," you gasped out, wanting him. "It's absolutely okay."

"My good girl," he says before diving back to your mouth. You know he's teasing you as he strokes your skin, making you quiver with anticipation of what is to come. But then he's reaching for the helm of your dress, lifting and folding it over your stomach, as he releases your lips in a harsh pant.

The question is there in his eyes as he looks down at you, fingers resting just on the helm of your underwear. You swallow, opening your legs wide. Jake's eyes glaze over, and his arm flexes under your head. You're giving him this—this first experience of letting someone be with you.

He doesn't hesitate when he starts dragging them down. You eagerly lift your hips to help him take them off. Once he gets them past your ankles, he shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.

Jake hisses when he takes you in, so spread out for him. "Can I touch, darlin'? Can I touch what is mine?"

Fucking hell, Jake. Do you have a consent kink?!

"I'm yours," you gasp into the night air. "Please, Jake, Please."

Jake rests half on top of you, swallowing your whimper as he finally reaches and presses down on your clit, slow, gentle circles that have you closing your legs and sharp breaths racking your chest. Your hand shoots out and grips his wrist, feeling his muscles contract under your hand.

"Keep them open, Liz," he warns, shifting down slightly so he can turn you and press you back against his chest. Jake slots his leg between yours, expertly thrusting his knee so your leg hooks up over his, never stopping in his efforts.

He rubs at you with ease, carefully watching how each movement makes you react before he switches to his thumb, and a single-finger probes at your entrance. You thrust your hips back into him, a strangled noise crawling out of your throat, and Jake uses it as an opportunity to push his finger inside.

"That sound, " He breathes against your cheek. "You're driving me goddamn insane."

You used to worry back in university that you'd feel trapped if you ever found someone you trusted enough to do with this. But even with Jake poised at your back, working between your legs, you did not feel as if you weren't in control. Your body is open to the air, and Jake is only holding you down by his hand and the weight of his words.

You feel safe.

He adds another finger, curling them inside you, searching for something when you let out a sharp whine. It burns. The stretch. The sensations that were spreading across your groin.

You felt full with Jake's finger's inside you, squelching sounds accompanying each time pumped them in and out of you. "You're so tight," he moaned into your neck. "I won't have you here, but fuck Liz, the day I can have you gripping my cock."

You bury your squeal into the flesh of his arm, your arm not currently gripping Jake's wrist, whipping out to find the side of his truck, making a string of lights fall.

Not slow. This is not slow.

"Knowing I'm your first." He bites the soft skin behind your ear. "That your mine."

Your cry is muffled into this arm, and Jake glides his nose up the back of your neck to your ear. "Don't look away, Liz," he soothes. "Let me see your face."

It's the last thing you want him to see, ironically. The faces you make aren't pretty, and your eyes are slammed shut. And you were sure if you did open your eyes, you'd explode at the slight; you spread out so shamelessly open to the sky. Jake's hand between your legs, working you higher and higher off an unknown edge from the flatbed of his truck.

But you do manage to turn your head back, Jake immediately catching your mouth with his in a desperate kiss. When he lets your mouth go, you whine out with a pant, "Fuck Jake, I can't."

"Yes, yes, you can." Your words must have encouraged him because suddenly, his thumb is circling faster, and his fingers are pressing harder, working that spot inside you. Your eyes are screwed shut, tears seeping through as the ball in your abdomen grows tighter and tighter, nails biting into his wrist.

"Are you going to let go for me, darlin'," he gasps into your open mouth, hovering above you. You wanted to, desperately. "Will you let me have it?

You drop your head to his arm, the feeling too much to bear. You are on the edge of something, fire radiating from your core and making your thighs shake. Jake pants into your ear, once, twice before he moans, "Will you cum for me?"

His thumb swipes over your clit as he presses hard on that spot inside you. You keen, lights exploding behind your eyes as you arch your hips towards his hand, legs trembling as you clench around Jake's fingers. The cool breeze from the sea or the cool air from the night sky does nothing to the heat flooding your veins.

He's there. Turning your head back, catching your cries into his mouth, and taking the bruises you're pressing into his arm without flinching. In fact, he's smiling ever so slightly, watching you come apart underneath him.

You weakly turn in his hold, whimpering and trying to bury yourself into his chest as every emotion hits you at once. Jake pulls his fingers from you as you do, and you feel embarrassed at the wetness coating your thighs. Gripping the back of your leg, he rolls, taking you with him. Your body crashes limply onto his chest, and the one leg he's holding straddles his waist.

Your trembling, gripping his shirt to ground yourself and will strength back into your body. There's a hyper-awareness you are not used to dancing across your skin - allowing you to feel the fabric of the blanket underneath you, the chill in the air, Jake's warmth, your release cooling on your thighs and covering his fingers, grasping your bare leg.

Any rational thought has gone out the window. Except for the fact you know Jake could not have gotten off from that.

He's hard against the inside of your thigh, through the denim of his jeans, the rough fabric creating friction against your clit as you rock lightly to the pulses aching in your core. He's groaning with each press, fighting with himself not to cant his hips up into you.

Even as you continue to whimper your aftershocks into his neck, you find yourself trailing your hand down his chest and to his stomach, fingers barely slipping under the waistband of his jeans, just reaching the first few strains of hair.

But Jake grunts, pulling your hand away and shaking his head. He brings it up to his mouth, kissing the palm before stating, "It's not about me right now."

"Jake..."

He doesn't give in to the soft pleading of this name. Instead, he grips the roots of your hair at the base of your skull, ensuring there isn't an inch of space between you as he pulls you close. His other hand is gripping the bare skin of your ass, keeping your dress up around your hips and lower half exposed to the cool air.

This time, you do feel trapped.

He's holding you like you'd be carried off by the breeze, ready to disappear at any second. As if faced with another deployment, off to fight a war with the fear of never making it back. The switch in him is so sudden that the aftershocks of your recent orgasm are reduced to cooling embers, and it only adds to your unease when Jake gasps through a sharp breath, "Just let me hold you and forget about everything else."

The concern you felt for him earlier returns with a vengeance.

Jake's anxious about something, and he's not telling you why. Suddenly, the chill in the air is too cold, the blanket is too rough, and Jake's fingers and the insides of your thighs are chalky, rubbing against your skin.

You focus on breathing instead, trying to calm your rapid heart. You weren't going to hold whatever this was against him.

Because despite not knowing what to think about having your real first sexual experience in the flatbed of Jake's truck, you today were the happiest you had felt in a while, even with literal hell overtaking your life.

But listening to Jake's heartbeat pound under your ear, the paranoia you've ignored so many times before makes a home in your chest, and the allusion that was today dissipates, and everything comes rushing back. Tyler. Bradley. And now, whatever Janet warned Jake about that was making him act this way.

It was all a possibility again.

You couldn't help but feel this silver of happiness wouldn't last that much longer.

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Part 15: Have you ever seen the rain? Coming soon

Wickett ;)

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crowswithize · 2 years ago

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Random DPXover Interactions 5

Characters: Jack Fenton and Klarion

“For the last time, I am NOT your son!” the black-haired boy shouted, trying to squirm from the man’s tight grip. He had been unceremoniously plucked from the ground and dragged for about a mile. The entire time, the man ranted off about ‘ghosts’ and ‘Danny my boy.’

Frankly, Klarion had enough of men kidnapping him. At least this time (Klarion could only assume) he wasn’t being sold into slavery.

Finally, the father heard him. He stopped in his tracks in a desolate part of the city. He brought Klarion in front of him, staring at his face. Klarion scowled at the attention but it did not dissuade the fool at all.

“When did your hair grow like horns, Dann-o?” the man asked.

Klarion’s scowl deepened. “You should invest in spectacles, mortal.”

Teekl, where have you gone? Klarion questioned, hoping to escape with his familiar.

I am here, Master Teekl responded. In the corner of Klarion’s eye, he could spot his orange-furred familiar hanging on top of a lamppost. The damned werecat stared down with a, ironically, Cheshire grin. Klarion’s frown only deepened.

The man in front of him laughed loudly, freeing Klarion from his grasp. Unsurprisingly, Klarion dropped on the cement sidewalk with a thud. His legs clattered against each other as if they were porcelain. He swore he could hear Teekl giggling through the mind link.

“You sound just like Jazzy-pants!” the man boomed. “And the traffic officers. And the government officials. And Maddie. And-”

A hex was ready on Klarion’s tongue but, like a valve, his magic went dry. His head swiveled to glare at Teekl, now sitting right on top of the headlamp.

Let me take my vengeance Klarion seethed.

The man has done no wrong. Teekl climbed down the post, staying at the base.

Did you not watch him drag me? I pity the boy who he fathered.

Teekl licked her paw. Perhaps you could help him in a non-destructive way, Master.

That’s no fun, my familiar.

To this, Teekl walked behind the lamppost, disappearing to the other side. Klarion rolled his eyes at the theatrics.

“And, most of all, the Coast Guard!” the man ended. He stared down at Klarion as if expecting a standing ovation for the number of crimes he must have committed.

Klarion does stand up, though he did not clap, and dusted off the dust on his trousers. With one elegant swish of his hand and a few magical words, the man’s eyes glowed a light blue. The man blinked, clearing up the light and really looking at Klarion.

“You don’t look like Danny,” the man said, dumbfounded. Klarion resisted the secondary curse. Teekl, though not visible, stayed an observer of this interaction.

The spell corrected the man’s eyes, in a sense. What it actually did was revert his eyes to an earlier form of development. Klarion hoped the man was born with poor eyesight so that the eyeballs would be marbles in the adult skull. To his disappointment, the man developed his poor vision much later.

Klarion rested a hand on his hip. “Evidently. I’m sure you must find whoever this Dann-o is-”

“I should’ve known! Danny’s never this pliant when we go ghosthunting!” the man laughed. Klarion, for a moment, admired this mortal son’s ability to resist his father. The man leaned down, with his hands on his knees. Klarion despised the height difference. “Do you still want to go hunting, boyo?”

Klarion paused, his turn to be shocked. “I- I’m not sure I follow.”

“Well… what did you say your name was again?”

Klarion readjusted his cufflinks. Teekl would’ve called it a nervous habit but he simply wanted to look tidy. “My name is Klarion. I am a witch boy, yet to attend the trials to be a witch man.” He ignored how he never gave his name before this point.

“Well, Kul-air-eon the Witch Boy, I’ve got an ecto-signature for a natural portal and I’m sure a kid your age wouldn’t mind shooting some ectopuses down. Like all those video games you play!” He laughed again, hitting Klarion’s back with a hard slap and jolting him forward.

Klarion scowled at the contact but made no motion to withdraw from the conversation. He could, if he wanted to, leave without saying a thing. The misunderstanding had cleared and the offer the man made was ridiculous. Klarion was his own person and he could do to the human world as he saw fit.

He caught Teekl’s red eyes, the shadow of her on the man’s back.

“It is Klarion, mortal. Neither am I the witch boy. There are plenty others of my town who are witch boys themselves-”

“I’m Jack! Jack Fenton of Fenton Works!” the man - Jack - once again interrupted. He seemed to do it not for the sake of being rude but because he lacked complete social awareness. Klarion was surprised at how little it annoyed him. “I’ve never met a witch boy before, Klary-on, so I’m pretty sure you’re the Witch Boy!”

The logic was faulty and the pronunciation of his name should not be this difficult.

Klarion eyed the man. “...What does your hunt entail, Jack Fenton?”

“GHOSTS!” Jack yelled with childlike excitement. Seconds passed as he did nothing more to elaborate.

Teekl continued to watch him with a sort of expectation. Klarion sighed. Teekl had been haggling him with about attending mortal rituals. Perhaps this ‘ghost hunting’ would give insight into the above-world practices.

Klarion stuck out his hand. “I will temporarily join you, but do not expect me to stay.”

Looking back, Klarion should have known not to lend his hand. In seconds, Jack led him on a secondary dragging across town. This time, Teekl’s laughter had no barrier stopping it.

#this was fun #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #klarion the witch boy #jack fenton #I thought the interaction would be cool #danny phantom #we need more klarion stuff #and different character interactions #phanfic #my writing #ficlet

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dizzyjelly · 2 years ago

Text

We Can Be Scared Together(18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: enemies to lovers, you and Ellie are high-school classmates who despise each other but then one Friday night you go to a party and play an interesting game of spin the bottle. There's quite a bit of angst, but a happy ending bc I'm a sucker for love :D

Cw: fighting, use of slur (dyke), homophobia, readers parents kinda suck(mostly dad), disappointed father, parents fight briefly, caring/worried mom, underage drinking, brief mention of eating disorder, brief mention of weed, heavy make out session, smut!, boob stuff, oral, Ellie is a munch ig?

A/n: it took me so long to write this oml 😭 also this is my first time writing smut so sorry if it isn't great but I think I did a pretty good job on it. Anyways enemies to lovers is my favorite trope so I absolutely loved writing this, hope you enjoy!

You sat in class, bored out of your mind as you stared at the wall in front of you. There was some dumbass inspirational poster taped to it, something about 'what's popular is not always right what's right is not always popular blah blah blah.'

Everything was going as it usually did, but then the teacher called out your name. She had some question written out on the board, and apparently you were going to be the one to answer.

"Y/n, what would our answer be here?" She asked, crossing her arms as she stared you down.

You tried to peek at the boys paper beside you, knowing he was smart. But of course, he covered it with his arm, asshole.

"Um, I- I don't know." You finally admitted, tired of all the eyes on you.

You could hear someone laughing in the back of the classroom, you turned your head to see who. And lo and behold, it was Ellie Fucking Williams. God, you hated that girl. You squinted your eyes at her with hatred.

"Bitch." You muttered under your breath, somehow she'd heard you because her laughter stopped and her brows furrowed.

"What'd you say?" She asked, now standing from her seat and walking over to you.

You looked up at her for a minute before standing yourself, you had a few inches on her so now you were the one in control. Carefully, you took a step closer, your chests brushed against one another as you did so.

She looked up at you, clenching her jaw as she held tight fists at her side. Your jaw was relaxed, but you also had your hands in fists.

"Ladies." Your teacher warned, but neither of you were listening.

Before you knew it, you'd punched her square in the nose and she got you right back. Not in the nose though, she went for your mouth. Fortunately, none of your teeth broke, but you did bite down on your tongue hard enough that it was gushing blood. And your lip was also split.

Ellie has two thick red lines of blood trickling out of her nose, running down her chin and staining her white tank. You laughed at the sight, bringing your hand to rub at your jaw as it ached. The smile on your face was bittersweet.

"You stupid bitch!" You shouted, and then about three seconds later and she was on the floor helpess as you were on top of her.

You were practically straddling her, and to make things even better you'd held both her arms down above her head, a rather intimate position. You wouldn't notice though, because you were too focused on beating the girl that was beneath you.

After a good slap to her face, you got distracted by some idiot guy in your class.

"Yeah! Take your top off!" He'd shouted, sounding all giddy. [Kind of a mean girls reference lol]

God he was probably so bricked up right now. You scoffed, climbing off the poor girl and standing on your own two feet. She practically jumped up, and the look on her face just said pissed.

She quickly expressed that physically, by shoving you harshly into the wall with her hands on either of your shoulders. You groaned as your head pounded against the brick wall, damn you couldn't get another concussion. Now she was the one smiling.

Before she could get any kind of hit in, you were pulled apart by the school security guard. You were breathing heavily as a hand came to the back of your head, which was throbbing in pain.

After a while, the two of you were now seated in the office. You were particularly shocked that they let the two of you sit beside each other. Your arms were crossed, and you were silent. Ellie sat relaxed, her arms resting on her chair as she manspreaded with zero shame.

It wasn't until about ten minutes later that the vice principal came from his office to call one of you back to speak to your parent on the phone you assumed. Thankfully, he'd called Ellie’s name first, you were not at all ready for what your mom would have to say about this.

She came out after about fifteen minutes or so, a sour look present on her face as her arms were crossed. This time when she sat her legs crossed tightly. Damn, her dad must've been really upset. You looked over to her, the to the vice principal as he called for you. Your eyes widened with fear and you made your way into his office, taking a seat.

"So," he cleared his throat, "we have a zero tolerance policy with violence here, as you know I'm sure. I will now inform you of your punishment and the we will call your mother. You will face lunch detention for one month, minimum, that's if you can behave. You will report here after school to do community service for two weeks. And you and Ms. Williams will meet with the school counselor once a week, together." He read it all off some yellow sheet, then picked up the phone to dial your mom.

You groaned in agony, community service wouldn't be horrible but weekly meetings with the counselor? God, just kill me now, you thought. Then you panicked as the phone rang all but once before your mother picked up. You began chewing at your nails as he explained what happened then handed you the phone.

"Mom?" Your voice was quiet and shaky, you were terrified.

"Y/n Y/l/n, I cannot believe this. What happened?" She scolded, clearly upset.

"I- I don't know." It was the best answer you could give, and mostly true.

"I mean I don't get it, you've always been my good little girl." She sounded... sad?

"Yeah, well maybe I'm tired of being good!" You shouted, frustrated.

It was difficult, being held to such high expectations. You were far from perfect, but that's all she wanted you to be. Her and your father both, but you just weren't.

"Y/n... that's not true" She sighed, "your father is going to be furious, even more than I am."

"How do you know its not true, huh? All you and dad want me to be is this perfect girl with amazing grades and cool friends. Well I'm not. I'm tired of all the pressure you guys put on me, I can't take it anymore!" You shouted once again before shoving the phone back into the vice principals hand then storming out of his office.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you'd be damned if you let Ellie Williams see you cry, so you bolted for the schools back doors and ran to your car. Once you were there, you drove as you blasted music to drown out your thoughts. You weren't going home, no, but where? Eventually you decided to head to your favorite park, you'd always go there to get high.

Why not continue the tradition? You figured there was no point in staying sober, besides a joint would definitely help with the lecture you'd be receiving from your parents tonight. Mostly your father, but still.

You brought your hands to your face, wiping your tears away. Then you grabbed a joint from your empty glasses case in the pouch on the back of your seat. Afterwards, you made your way to the swings and lit it up.

An hour or so passed and your phone started ringing, you picked it up and of course it was your mother yelling frantically about how worried she was. Rolling your eyes, you hung up without a word and drove home, high as a kite. You pulled into the driveway and every bone in your body told you not to go inside, but you had to, so you did.

You were met with your parents asking you to come sit in the living room, as they stood across from the couch. Your leg bounced anxiously as your father started to speak.

"To say we're worried about you would be an understatement y/n, we are beyond worried. I don't know what has driven you to this new wave of violence, but we won't have it. You're grounded for at least one month, and you can only have your phone during school in case you need to contact one of us. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Truly, I do not know who you are anymore. I do know one thing though, you're sure as hell not the my sweet little girl anymore. Now, give me your phone and go to your room." His speech was finally done, and there had been a tear or two that made its way down your face.

Your eyes rolled as you gave him your phone, then ran upstairs to your room. Not even bothering to get any schoolwork done, you changed into some comfy clothes then got into bed. You kept your lights off as you got warm underneath your covers in the dark. You let out a heavy sigh as tears started to wet the bedsheet beneath you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

When you woke up the next morning, you had no motivation to even get up. But you did, knowing you were already on thin ice so there's no way you'd get to stay home. You were silent at the dining table during breakfast, only muttering a thank you to your mother when she handed you your phone as you were walking out the door. You drove to school in silence.

The day went by surprisingly well, and thankfully the meetings with your shit counselor didn't begin until next week. Everything was going smoothly until gym class, you were in the girls locket room changing into your gym clothes. The teacher decided on basketball today, which you quite enjoyed.

You went about your business as usual, not even looking in Ellie's direction. You figured it was better to just leave things alone. Everything was going fine until some popular bitches had to start talking.

"Oh my God, Stacy, she's totally looking at us." The blonde one didn't even try to whisper, giggling.

"Ew, I know. She's so gay. Like im totally uncomfortable right now." Stacy replied, also laughing.

"Seriously, she should just use the boys locker room." The blonde one spoke again and the pair laughed even harder.

You rolled your eyes, knowing they were talking about Ellie. Not that you cared, but today it was getting on your nerves. You'd had enough.

"Can't you guys just shut the fuck up?" You asked, your voice slightly raised.

Ellies brows furrowed at your response, definitely unexpected.

"And who are you, the dyke defender?" The blonde one asked, her sass more present than anything.

"No. But I know you guys are making a big deal out of nothing." You spoke at a normal tone now, taking a step closer to her.

"It's weird!" Stacy shouted from beside her.

"Oh my God, no it's not!" You shouted back, "besides, Stacy, you're one to talk. I find it weird how the two of you are always running to the bathroom together after lunch. Probably throwing up your salads, bulimic bitches." You insulted the two girls, and they were left speechless.

The two of them just gasped and rolled there eyes at you before exiting to the gym. You let a small smile creep onto your face as you turned around, facing Ellie. She smiled at you but you just stared at her blankly, then made your way to the gym without a word to her.

You were out on the basketball court now, the game was going rather well. Your team was winning by three points, and you had scored once or twice. Then, your gym teacher blew her whistle for a break. You started to lightly jog towards your water when somebody shoulder-checked you harshly enough to knock you to the ground.

And of course it was Stacy. Bitch.

"Whoops, sorryyy!" She shouted sarcastically.

You sighed, propping your elbows up on the floor behind you. Before you knew it, there was a hand holding yours and helping you up. Much to your surprise, it was none other than your arch nemesis Ellie.

"Thanks." You meant to sound genuine, but failed miserably.

"Yeah, no problem. Hey, can I waterfall your water? Forgot mine today." She brought a hand to the back of her neck, which was dripping in sweat.

You took a nice, long sip of your ice cold water. Then you shrugged, handing it to her.

"Sure, why not?" Your tone had slowly become kinder and less passive aggressive.

You watched as she tilted her head back, then let the waterfall past her lips. A single drop spilling down her chin. You might have hated her, but damn. There was something about the way she looked with her hair pulled back, all sweaty and hot. It was like, sexy? No, no. You hated this girl. She wasn't sexy, she was just a bitch.

Once the school day was done with, you headed home and the whole drive there all you could think about was Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams, and how you'd thought she was hot and sexy. It made absolutely no sense. You'd spent years upon years hating this girl, and now you were attracted to her. No, there's no way.

You were beyond thankful to come home to an empty house, both your parents still at work. They couldn't take your phone if they weren't home. But, it didn't matter because they'd set s screen time on it so you couldn't use it anyways. You let out a groan of frustration and annoyance. Then, you decided to actually do something responsible. You got all your homework done while watching TV in the living room.

Quickly, you collected your things and ran to your room when you heard your parents pull up in the driveway. You hadn't wanted to see them, not unless you had to. As they walked in the door, they seemed to be arguing about something.

"Honey, you're overreacting." Your mom spoke softly.

"No, I'm not. She's an embarrassment to this family! She is my greatest disappointmen! And I dont want to hear about it from my own father." Your father argued, his voice rough.

"She's your daughter, how can you say that?" Your mother replied, taking offense.

You only realized now that he was talking about you, that definitely hurt.

"I don't care, you know sometimes I wish she wasn't!" Your father shouted, and your mother gasped.

You ran from where you were listening at the stairs and slammed your door shut, immediately climbing into bed to cry. You could hear your mother start to yell at your father, but you didn't bother to try and make out what she was saying. You stayed in your room for the rest of the night, going to bed without dinner.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, the loud beeping bringing you agony as always. You slam the button down so hard your tiny digital clock falls to the ground, groaning you sit up. After rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, you get out of bed. As much as you were dreading school, at least it was Friday. Your parents would be going out of town for a family event, which you were not invited to.

This was the result of their argument last night, your father winning and now you were staying home while they met with your grandparents. You knew you hadnt been the best kid lately, but it never occurred to you that you were now your fathers greatest disappointment. Not until last night at least.

Doing your best to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, you left for school early that morning. You didn't do much with your spare time, just sitting in the parking lot with your car still on.

The school day was mildly boring, nothing interesting happening. That was until you overheard a conversation between some guys in your fourth hour.

"You going to Josh's party tonight?" The first guy asked.

"Mm, depends. Josh D or Josh P?" The second guy answered, with a question as well.

"Ugh, Josh P obviously." The first guy replied.

"Alright. Then yeah, what time?" Guy number two asked his friend.

"Like eleven I think." His friend responded.

"Alright, cool." The other guy answered.

You felt excitement bubbling, a party would be fun. And another chance to disappoint your father. That wasn't your goal though, mainly you just wanted to get shit faced and forget your sorry ass life for a night. You weren't really close with Josh P, but you knew where he lived. You'd definitely be going to that party at eleven.

[Fast forward to later tonight, you're getting ready for the party]

The outfit you'd chosen for school definitely wasn't going to cut it. You opened up your closet, skimming through your clothes. Eventually you settled on a navy blue dress, it was just short enough to get you checked out. It also had a flattering crewneck and a tanktop build at the top.

You smiled at yourself in the mirror, it hugged your curves exceptionally well. Then you took a seat at your vanity as you did your makeup. Nothing too outrageous, just the basics. Eyeliner, mascara, blush, highlighter, and lip gloss.

Once you were done you slipped into your favorite pair of shoes, specifically for parties. They had light stains, due to that fact, they were your go-tos in case anyone threw up on your shoes or anything like that.

You drove over to the party, it wasn't too far so you didn't leave until eleven. Plus, you didn't wanna be that weirdo who showed up early. Thankfully when you got there, there had already been a decent amount of kids your age inside. As you walked in, you were immediately hit with the stench of booze and the sound of loud music blasting in your ears.

It was slightly euphoric, but maybe that was just you. You'd always felt that way, taking your first steps into a party, like you were on top of the world. Everything was going decently well, and you were down two drinks when you had gotten into a game of beer pong. This knocked you down a couple more drinks, and you were ready for another round when a certain someone caught your eye from across the table.

Ellie. Ellie was here, your breath caught in your throat as you swallowed hard at the sight of her. She wore a black lacey crop top, that was basically a bralette. And she wore loose-fitted jeans that dipped below her stomach, the lining of her matching black underwear creeping out the sides. You bit down at your bottom lip, darting away to the bathroom.

If the thought that she was hot came to your mind sober, lord only knows what's to come when you've been drinking. You sighed as you shut and locked the door behind you, squeezing your eyes shut as you slid down the door and sat on the cold tiles, bringing your head to your hands.

You let out a defeated sigh, you couldn't hide out in here forever. But it wouldn't hurt to stay for a while. After finally getting your shit together, you stood to wash your hands under cold water, giving you a slight sense of adrenaline. You exited and left the door open as you walked back out to the living room. Beer pong was done with, and a circle was being formed for spin the bottle.

I mean, come on, you had to play. And you saw Ellie take a seat, which, for some odd reason, just made the game more intriguing. Besides, who were you to pass up a drunk kissing game at a high school party? It'd be lame if you had.

Smiling, you sat crisscross applesauce between two guys, one sat comfortably and calm, the other seemed terrified. Dudes probably a virgin or something, the way he was practically shaking at the thought of having to just kiss someone. You shook your head lightly, chuckling at him a bit.

"Alright, who's up first?" Josh, the host, asked as he took a seat and set an empty bottle in the middle of everyone.

Nobody was eager to volunteer, and you were about to lean forward to take a spin, but somebody else cut you off.

"Guess I'll go." Ellie spoke so nonchalantly, it drove you insane.

You could feel your heart pick up as she leaned forward to spin the green bottle, giving you a perfect view of her boobs. You swore you could've been drooling at the sight. Your eyes locked in on the bottle as it spun rapidly, shaking a bit, and as it slowly came to a stop, you were silently hoping it'd land on you. And no. fucking. way. It did.

Her eyes met yours, a playful smirk finding its way onto her face. You smiled sheepishly, turning your head slightly as your cheeks flushed red and you licked your lips. Taking a deep breath, you got on your hands and knees to get face to face with her, she did the same.

Just before she brought her lips to yours, she leaned to the side to whisper in your ear. The way her hot breath felt against your neck drove you crazy.

"Let's give em' a real show, huh?" Her voice was low and husky, sending a shockwave to your core.

Finally, she brought her lips to yours. Almost immediately, her hands found their place on the back of your neck as she pulled you in deeper. You took your hands to her bare waist, letting out a small moan as she slipped her tongue into your mouth.

She tasted faintly of strawberry, mostly of alcohol and a little bit of weed. It was so addicting, the way her tongue ran against every corner, every crevice of your mouth. Then, you just couldn't help yourself as she bit down on your bottom lip just enough to make it sting. Pushing her back, you crawled forwards and straddled her.

Somehow you were still breathing, even after not having pulled away for one second from what might've been the most magical, intense kiss of your life. Ellies hands moved down your body, now cupping your ass. She gave it a small squeeze and a smile formed on your lips, she chuckled against your lips as she felt it.

A string of both your mixed salivas formed as you pulled back just slightly, but it didn't last long as Ellie brought her lips back to yours in an instant. Everyone else had been cheering and clapping, going insane over how hot and heavy you guys got. Finally, you climbed off of her and took your place back in your seat.

Flustered, you brought a hand up to lightly stroke your hair. Ellies cheeks flushed red as she wiped at the corners of her mouth, which were all wet from your hot, sloppy kiss. You shot her a smile, and she returned the favor. You felt butterflies in your stomach, swirling around at an incredibly fast pace.

"Well, that's gonna be hard to beat." Josh said with strong laughter.

Somebody else would spin the bottle and the game continued for a good while. Josh was right though, nothing came close to what you and Ellie had. Eventually, the game ended when vrigin boy next to you chickened out and wouldn't kiss the rather cute brunette he'd spun on. Everyone booed and called him lame. You didn't care all that much, seeing as you were satisfied with the results of the game. Everyone dispersed and went on to doing other party activities.

Since you were already decently drunk, you skipped out on any kind of drinking games. Instead, you found yourself sat on the red couch in the living room, some couple of the other side of it were making out and borderline dry humping. Uncomfortable, you pulled out your phone just so you could have something to stare at. Then, after a minute or so, you felt somebody plop down next to you, their body leaning into yours without hesitation.

And what do you know, it's Ellie because of fucking course it's Ellie. She tried to say something to you, but you couldn't hear her due to the insanely loud music playing. You just looked st her confused, then your face heated up and she leaned into you even more, bringing her head to the side of yours and her hand to the other side of your neck as she talked into your ear, sending chills down your spine.

"So, how about that kiss huh? Pretty hot." You could just hear the smugness in her voice, and you were sure she had a stupid smirk plastered across her face right now.

"Sure was. Too bad we're not playing spin the bottle anymore." You joked, hoping she'd catch on. And she did, because she's not an idiot.

"So?" She said at first, leaning back and just giving you a sweet peck on the cheek, "if you wanted to kiss me again, I'd let you."

You let out a small sigh, God Damn she was so hot.

"Oh yeah? Well we better be careful, because the way you were grabbing my ass earlier gave me the impression you wanted a little something more." You were a bit shocked at your own words, they were the result of all your drinks, you knew you'd never say any of this sober.

Ellie laughed, it sounded so sweet from the proximity of her mouth to your ear.

"Well, I'm not gonna tell you you're wrong. Maybe we don't have to be so careful, if that's what you want, of course." She was bold, confident, sexy. The whole damn package.

You didn't give her another word, just backing up so you could pull her into a kiss. Your previous position returned, but now she straddled you. It was absolutely hot the way she didn't hold back, and you swore you heard her moan at the way you whimpered as she gripped your hair, tugging at it slightly.

Slowly, you were becoming strikingly similar to the couple that had made you so uncomfortable a few minutes ago. You couldn't give a single fuck about that though, because the way Ellie kissed you was downright addictive. You wanted more, no you needed more. After a minute or so, you pulled away then leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"I don't want to be careful. I need you Ellie, so bad." Your words were breathy, and you meant every single one.

Ellie let out a small groan at how forward you'd been.

"Ok princess, let's go to my car. I've got tinted windows, can't promise nobody will hear us though. Can you keep quiet?" She whispered back.

You bit your lip,

"I'll try my best for you." You smiled as she stood and took you out to her car, having you climb into the backseat before she got in with you.

Immediately she locked the doors before climbing on top of you to resume your heavy make out session from inside. You loved the way she moved her hands up and down your sides, gripping at your hips as she rubbed her hands over them. You felt hot all over, and the wet spot forming in your panties was becoming more and more evident.

She broke your kiss and started peppering kisses across your jaw before she sucked at your neck hungrily, it didn't take long for her to find your pulse point that made you let out a loud moan. Quickly, you bit down on your bottom lip to quiet yourself, along with bringing a hand to your mouth as the other one held you up. Ellie slowly made her way down to your collarbones, then she brought her hands up from your hips to your dress.

"Can I pull this off baby?" She looked up at you with lust filled eyes as she spoke so softly, so sensual.

You nodded eagerly in response, the way she was treating you, you'd let her do whatever she wanted. She let out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to either of your shoulders.

"Use your words, pretty girl." She encouraged, still gripping at your dress.

"Yes, please." You whined out, and she pulled your dress down, along with your bra in one fell swoop.

She immediately latched onto one of your tits, taking the other in her hand as she toyed with your nipple, they peaked hard and you let out a breathy moan as she flicked her tongue over the one. The other was kneaded between her fingers like dough, and God it felt amazing. After a minute she switched so her mouth was on the other, giving it one small suck before she kissed further down your chest to your stomach, now pulling your dress all the way down to your ankles.

You flushed red, feeling a little embarrassed at how exposed you were. Instinctively, you pushed your legs together. Ellie shot you a smirk, taking your knees in her hands to spread you apart.

"Come on baby girl, no need to hide, you're so pretty." She complimented you as she brought her head down to place light kisses on your inner thigh.

Then she sucked a few harsh kisses into them, gripping at your ass as she did so. You let out another moan as she worked your thighs with her mouth, the fact she was so close to where you'd needed her so badly was driving you insane. After a minute you couldn't take it anymore, reaching down to pull off your underwear yourself before grabbing her by the back of her head and guiding her towards your dripping core.

She let out a small moan at your sudden impatience, and she let you have your way. When her tongue finally met your clit, you couldn't help the pornagraphic moan that escaped your lips. You brought a hand to your mouth, biting down on your pointer finger to silence yourself as she lapped her tongue.

She took it slow at first, but after you'd given her hair a light tug she started eating you out like there was no tomorrow. She absolutely devoured you, like you were her last meal, and she savored every drop. It didn't take long for you to get that familiar feeling in your stomach, knowing you were close.

"El-ellie, mmnph- fuck I'm gonna-" You sucked a breath through your teeth as she went even faster, "ah fuckkk.." You moaned out.

She broke away for just a second, causing you to let out a rather pathetic whimper.

"Cum for me baby, come on. I got you. That's my girl" she was back on you in seconds, and you came in no time after those words of praise.

You were a moaning mess as you reached your release, bringing your other hand down to grip onto her hair as she didn't stop. Not even forming coherent sentences at this point, you couldn't even tell her to stop because you were starting to feel overstimulated. Instead you just pulled her back from you, she stared up at you with a smile. Your chest rose and fell quickly as you panted.

She climbed forwards, her hands coming down at either side of your head as she went to kiss you. You let out a small moan as you tasted yourself on her tongue. She brought a hand to caress your cheek softly.

"You did so good baby, so proud of you." You giggled at her words.

"Thank you," you blushed, "do you want me to... do anything for you?" You asked shyly, she'd just given you an earth shattering orgasm so the least you could do was return the favor.

But, she shook her head.

"Nah, I'll be fine." She smiled down at you, placing a kiss to your cheek then the conrer of your mouth.

"You sure?" You asked with furrowed brows, not wanting to leave her high and dry.

"Next time, pretty girl." You flashed her a smile, the thought of there being a next time had you excited.

"Mkay." You brought a hand to the back of her neck to pull her in for another kiss.

Once the two of you broke apart, she helped you pull your panties back up from your ankles as well as your dress. You smiled at her sweetly, she sat back comfortably, patting her leg for you to come sit. You sat between her spread legs, smiling as you rested your head on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around you, rubbing soft circles into your tummy.

The two of you sat like that for a few minutes, merely enjoying each other's presence. You let out a small sigh of frustration when her phone started going off and she removed one hand from you to check it.

"Ah, shit. I've gotta get home. Did you need a ride or anything?" She asked, as she pushed you off her and was ready to get into the driver's seat.

"Um, I'm pretty shit faced so yeah that'd be great." You sat in the backseat as she got into the driver's then took you home.

She said goodbye with just a small wave. You did the same, just trying to match her energy. You couldn't help the dumbstruck smile on your face as you walked into your house and upstairs to your room. You squealed into your pillow after jumping onto your bed. You were in shock, it was hard to believe that really just happened, but it did. Tonight was one of the best of your life.

As tired as you were, you still managed to remove your makeup and get changed into some comfy clothes for bed. You shut off your lights and got comfy under your covers, giddily replying the events of tonight as you closed your eyes to fall asleep. It didn't take long for you to basically passed out, mostly because of how many drinks you'd has. Before you knew it you were out like a light.

Throughout the weekend you were on a high, still thinking back to everything that went down on Friday. Monday morning came along, and you were actually excited to go to school for once. You didn't see Ellie until science class, but you could wait. Even if it felt like you couldn't. Once you got there, she was definitely acting weird.

You smiled at her, even waved a little, but she didn't so much as glance in your direction. You were confused to say the east, but you just figured maybe she had a bad morning or something. It's not like you guys were that close so you didn't really know. You tried your best not to let it cloud your mind, and if didn't. At least not until your teacher told you to pick partners and you walked over to Ellie.

"Hey, Ellie, do you wann-"

"No. Um I'm gonna find someone else, thanks though." She was so quick to answer, and with a no?

Ok, what the hell happened over the weekend. Surely there must've been something. Maybe she had a boyfriend you didn't know about? Or a girlfriend. Either way, whether she was or wasn't in a relationship, she could've at least disclosed that to you. You ended up stuck partnering with Stacy because her blonde friend wasn't there that day. It was seriously hell on earth, and this was a week-long project.

Once class ended, you tried to talk to Ellie, but she seemed to get away from you as fast as she could so you didn't get the chance. You let out a small sigh of defeat, maybe you could try again in gym class. The time rolled around and you were back in the locker room, Stacy learned to keep her mouth shut thankfully.

You got changed quickly, then walked over to Ellie. Leaning against the locker beside her, you tried to read her gaze. What was her deal?

"Can I help you." She spoke after a moment, her tone was anything but welcoming or kind.

"Um, yeah. I just wondered what's up I guess, you're just being kinda weird." You answered timidly, shocked by her hostile state.

"Look, we're not friends so I don't know why you're acting like it. Just drop it ok?" She answered, somehow her voice had gotten even colder.

Your teacher called for everyone to come out to the gym, you stopped Ellie though so now it was just the two of you.

"Ellie, come on. What are you saying, what are we?" You asked, genuinely wondering.

"Nothing. We aren't anything." She answered with a shake of her head as if it was obvious.

You scoffed harshly,

"Oh, ok nothing, really? I don't know about you, but the other night sure as hell didn't feel like nothing to me!" Your voice raised slightly as you were growing angry.

She sighed, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose out of frustration.

"Look, y/n. The other night was a mistake, and we were both drunk. If there hadn't been drinks involved, nothing would've happened." She spoke so clearly, as if it really meant nothing to her.

Tears grew in your eyes, but you did your best to shive them down, that all too familiar lump forming in your throat.

"Bullshit" you spat out, "bullshit because I'm stone cold sober right now and I can't stop thinking about kissing you again." You argued.

"Well, sorry but that's just you" She looked down, avoiding your strong gaze, "I don't have feeling for you."

You couldn't stop the tears that fell from your eyes at that statement.

"Ok, then look me in my eyes and tell me. Tell me you feel absolutely nothing for me." You demanded, crossing your arms.

"Y/n, please don't do this." She pleaded, as if she couldn't do what you were asking.

"No, look at me and tell me. Then I'll believe you." You stated, the anger blooming in your chest as more tears fell.

Her eyes met yours and she almost looked sorry for making you cry, but clearly not sorry enough.

"I dont-" She stopped for a moment, tears no welled in her eyes, "I don't have feelings for you." She spoke clearly and coldly, meeting your gaze so directly.

"Ok, then I guess we're done" You sniffled, wiping at your tears that just continued to flow, "see you around, Williams." You sighed, getting your things together as you headed for the back doors.

You left school early, skipping out on the rest of your classes. When you got home in the middle of the day, you were surprised to find your mother home.

"Y/n, what are you doing here? Why aren't you in class?" Shit.

"I got a fever." You lied through your teeth, but she just let you because she could tell you'd been crying.

"Ok, you want me to make you some soup?" She asked, her motherly nature kicking in.

"No, I'm good. Thanks mom." You shook your head, then ran upstairs to your room.

You were silent for the rest of the evening, only going downstairs for dinner before you went back up to your room and cried yourself to sleep. Fucking deja vu.

The next morning your alarm went off, and you just felt empty. There was no way in hell you'd go to school, so you had another fever today. Your mom called you in sick, coming to say goodbye to you before she left for work. You lied in bee, facing the wall as you recalled the hesrt wrenching conversation with Ellie from yesterday.

"Hey sweetie, just came to say bye" Your mother announced as she came and sat on your bed, "I know you don't have a fever, wanna tell me what's really going on?" She asked, bringing a hand to rub your arm soothingly.

You sighed, maybe it'd help to talk about it.

"There's this girl. I thought she liked me, but-" Your breath hitched, "I was wrong." You sniffled as your tears began to wet the bedsheets beneath you.

"Aw, honey, that girl just doesn't know a keeper when she sees it then" she leaned down and planted a sweet kiss to your forehead, "there's no medicine for a broken heart, but I promise it'll get better in time. I'm sorry sweetie." She stood and left, you were happy to be alone but hated it at the same time.

You spent practically the entire day thinking about Ellie, wondering why she'd gotten so cold. Just racking your brain for something, anything you might've done wrong. It was no use, nothing came to light. You were stuck in the dark.

You'd only gotten out of bed to use the bathroom and get a little something to eat, you stood leaning against the kitchen counter in just an oversized t-shirt and underpants as you microwaved some noodles.

Then, there was a knock at the door. Your brows furrowed, probably a package for one of your parents you left it alone as you waited on your food, but then they knocked again, you sighed and walked over to the door. As you swung it open, you felt like you might crumble and fall to the floor. It was Ellie. Ellie with a bouquet of flowers in her hand... what the fuck.

"Hi. Look, I don't wanna take up a ton of your time because I was a dick to you but I'm sorry. It wasn't fair for me to treat you that way and I'm just really fucking sorry" She extended her hand out, handing you the flowers, she brought her hands to her pockets as she stood awkwardly.

"Ok, well an explanation might be nice..." You spoke quietly, holding the rather beautiful flowers in one hand as the other rested on the door handle.

Ellie sighed.

"Looks, y/n, I really like you. I don't understand how I went from hating you for years, to being in love with you and- shit. I probably shouldn't have said that. Uh- anyways, I really really like you and I guess I'm just scared because I don't really know how to be in a relationship, and I dont want to mess this up. Because I really like you. Like, a lot." Her confession was heartfelt and genuine, it was real.

You smiled.

"Well, for starters, I suppose I can forgive you. Secondly, I don't wanna mess this up either, and I understand that you're scared. I'm scared too. But, maybe we could be scared together. As long as you won't shut me out or get all cold again." You gave her a stern look at the end of your own confession.

"I promise. Also I hope you like the flowers, I wasn't really sure what to get. I'm not used to apologizing." She chuckled awkwardly.

"I love them, now come here you idiot." You set the flowers down and brought your arms around her, bringing her in for a kiss.

The two of you shared a warm embrace afterwards, your head finding comfort in the crook of Ellie’s neck.

"Oh, and by the way" you whispered into her hair, "I'm in love with you too."

#ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie williams smut

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luverofralts · 7 months ago

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Arkhelios Adventures

"Something on your mind, Lord Siew?"

Adrian Siew jumped, caught off guard by his cousin, Maura. He turned to acknowledge her presence, but quickly turned back when he saw how she was dressed.

"Your Majesty," he replied with a distinct edge to his voice. "I wasn't expecting you to be here. I was anticipating catching up with my cousin, Maura. Do be sure to remind her of that the next time you see her. I'm afraid I have nothing to say to Her Majesty the Queen."

"Mature as always, Adrian."

"The family rules for the cottage prohibit crowns on these grounds," Adrian stated coldly. "It seems that you're the one who's acting immature and inappropriate. Or are you here in your official capacity? Did I miss a session of your court?"

"I have a meeting later on and didn't want to sit to have the crown pinned in place again. Forgive your poor cousin for being practical with her schedule. I promise that I'm merely Maura at the moment. You try wearing this thing while trying to look perfect and regal at all times. It's exhausting."

Maura paused to rub her stomach soothingly, wishing that her future prince or princess would settle down and stop kicking so much. If Adrian wanted to be catty about family rules, he was welcome to swap places with her and be heavily pregnant while juggling the needs of the country and her already large family.

Adrian sighed heavily, rubbing his temple before he spoke.

"What are we doing here, Maura?" he asked quietly. "What has our family become? You and Ulyssa can hardly share a room together and Trent says that you've ignored his invitations to come for supper for months now. Am I supposed to ignore the rumours that you're seducing anyone who looks your way, including your staff? Grandmother would be horrified at what you've become. Your mother would too."

"You can preach at me when you end whatever you and Roman are doing with each other," the queen snapped. "Are you and Evren swingers now, or can he not see the way your eyes linger on Roman when you think no one's watching?"

"Roman and I are co-parenting our children, something you would know nothing about. Do you even know the name of the son you've brought with you? Do you have any idea who the parent of this pregnancy is? I highly doubt that it's Ulyssa's."

Maura’s eyes narrowed into angry slits at these words, but she held her tongue. Adrian was clearly baiting her for whatever reason and Maura refused to play his games.

"Of course I know who the father is," she said firmly. "He's in that picture over there with Duke Goldman. I'm sure you've met."

Adrian looked at the pictures on the wall, but refused to acknowledge the one with Duke Goldman and his ex-boyfriend that still hung on the wall beside the picture of Adrian and Maura when they were children. Ezra Hope was a walking scandal who seemed to curse the extended Siew family. First, he had dated Duke Goldman, then he had moved onto Liam, prince of Crystal Cove, only to end up in Maura’s arms. The man had even tried to make a move on Adrian, right in front of Evren. Ezra was a curse, but Maura seemed to think that she was the one in control simply because she was queen.

How could Adrian reach Maura to show her the danger she was in? Their relationship had been rocky as of late because of their differing opinions on Ezra. The fact that she was also withholding Roman's daughter from him didn't help either.

Looking at the photo in front of him, Adrian had another idea.

"You know, I think I still have a shirt just like that one at home," he said, gesturing to the photo of the two of them as children. "I could teleport home and grab it and we could recreate that picture of us. It might be fun. Do you still enjoy taking pictures like you used to? The walls of Siew Cottage haven't had a new photo added in ages."

To his surprise, Maura didn't immediately snap at him in anger. If anything, she looked amused.

"I probably have a yellow dress upstairs in my room that I could wear. Let's give it a try. For old times sake."

The two cousins regrouped twenty minutes later, dressed in whatever was closest to matching the picture. Maura set the timer on her phone and rushed beside her cousin, feeling more nostalgic than she expected. This was what she used to do, back when she had free time and a mother and grandmother who had once done her job. She didn't have the luxury of photography anymore. Even if she was pissed off at Adrian for his comments on her lifestyle, he had managed to make her smile for a moment, at least.

"It's flawless," Adrian decided. "Your best work."

Maura smiled despite herself. She had always liked Adrian for his positivity and upbeat attitude, no matter how bad the circumstances were. He was probably the only person Maura knew who could spend years locked away in some other dimension and still see the world as inherently good. And yet, he did have tricks of his own to play. Someone gullible like Roman might have missed it, but this new picture had subtly moved the picture of Duke Goldman and Ezra Hope off the wall. Adrian played the part of an idiot, but his mind was still sharp.

"I'm not taking this tiara off, no matter how much you whine," Maura stated, pulling her cousin into a hug. "It really would be difficult to place back on, but I can promise you that I'm definitely not the queen right now. I have a very busy schedule and I'm only here to relax. Plus Prince Adrion could use some one on one time with me as my heir. My own mother often brought me here to bond and discuss the many responsibilities I'd inherit and I'd like to do the same with my heir. Don't you have private moments with Luciana about her inheriting your own title?"

"Private moments? What are those?" Adrian laughed. "Five kids running around the house as well as Saturnia and Abe Jr? Plus Theo when he's in the middle of yet another scandal? I barely get enough private moments to use the washroom by myself, let alone sit down with Luciana. My parents spent countless hours drilling my duty into my head, only to send me off to military school where it was shouted at me all day. I couldn't do that to her. Besides, I was an only child. I have more than enough potential heirs for Luciana to step down if she wished."

"Ah, yes. That's something I wanted to discuss with you. Well, that I've meaning to getting around to discussing with you. Some members of court are suggesting that I send Adrion and at least two of my other children to the military school you attended."

"The heir? That would be breaking with tradition. Military school is for the spares and lowly dukes."

Maura sighed.

"Well, there is some concern," she replied. "We still haven't had justice for my mother's death, so an heir with a military background could be an asset."

"And because people assume that Pleasantview is behind the attack and every other bad thing that's happened to us since then."

"Precisely. While I know that Claudia is innocent, others don't share my convictions. This whole thing is going to end in bloodshed, I just know it. I never wanted to be a queen in wartime, but if this continues, who knows what will happen?"

"Send the kids to Pleasantview then," Adrian said with confidence. "Nothing would show your belief in Claudia's innocence than sending your heir to her schools. That is, if you even send them anywhere. You can always put them in the public schools here. Evren and I are sending Fiolett to public school this year, along with her brothers when they're old enough."

Maura stared at her cousin strangely.

"Your oldest girls are in boarding school, aren't they? Do you not have the money to send the others? I can help with the costs if you need."

Adrian smiled, but shook his head.

"No, we could afford it, especially if Theo graduates by the time the boys are older. I appreciate your offer, but Evren is opposed to the idea of sending the children to any type of boarding school. He had a similar experience to mine in a boarding school and he hates the idea of not having the kids at home every day. The twins were enrolled at Roman's request a long time ago and it would be difficult for them to adjust to a public school in another country, away from all their friends."

"Understandable." Maura paused, unsure if she truly wanted to ask her next question. Roman was a difficult subject to bring up. "Why did you and Roman decide to enroll them in his old school, if you don't mind me asking? He always seemed dead set against boarding schools. Obviously, Theo is a different matter entirely."

"Obviously," Adrian agreed. "Boarding school will keep him safe for whatever his future holds, there's no doubt of that. Roman had already enrolled the twins in a kindergarten class abroad when I returned to life and it didn't make sense to take them out of it. Luciana needs the skills to one day take my place and Rien...Rien, we hope will find a community that shares her gifts in the larger world. If she makes even a single friend, who isn't a spirit, it would all be worth it."

Outside, Etienne and Adrion played on the playground, shrieking loudly with delight. Twenty years ago, that used to be Adrian and Maura on that playground, running away from their parents, escaping boring lectures on duty.

"Did you ever think that we'd be here, watching our kids play and reminiscing?" Maura asked. "I always thought that I'd have a few more years before having kids or that I'd be one of those crown princesses who spent most of their lives waiting for the crown. When we eventually do find my mother's murderer, I'm going to ensure that their life becomes just as unrecognizable as my own."

"You have a good life," Adrian assured his cousin. "Millions of people would trade for your life in an instant. You have a wife who loves you despite being flawed herself and several beautiful children who love you too. You rule over a peaceful island and have been guaranteed safety from Claudia coming to claim it as her own. You are incredibly fortunate."

"I have my mother's life. Even before she became queen, she'd been living just like this, just preparing for the throne instead of ruling from it like me. She had to educate her spare heirs and keep up a good public persona and spend every moment of her life thinking of the crown. I wanted to travel more before I became queen. I wanted to take pictures of everything and read a book beside Ulyssa on foreign beaches where the press wouldn't care about us. I wanted just a few years to myself before I had to give everything to the crown."

"You look a lot like your father," Maura pointed out, staring at a photo of her mother sitting with his father. "You're like a clone of him. None of my children look like just like me or just like their mother. They're all blends of Ulyssa and I."

"I don't have a little clone of me either," Adrian reassured his cousin. "Trust me, I got sick of constantly hearing how I looked like my father. It doesn't give you the space to be yourself. You are only ever the spitting image of a man you barely see because of his duties. Everard looks very close to Evren, and Theo very close to Roman, but my father and I were the same right down to the freckles on our noses. Evren and Roman would never try to impose their own interests on their children like my father did."

"Good luck telling Theo to do anything," Maura laughed. "That boy is wild."

"You still keep in contact with Theo?" Adrian was surprised to hear his cousin mention his stepson after all that Theo's father had done to her.

"Of course! Well, in a way. Though most of my information comes from security reports, I watch over him for Ulyssa's sake. She really does miss him in her life, but he won't speak to her. If something goes wrong and he's in danger again, I know that she would want to know. Besides, my security team assumes that he's being groomed to work for Claudia. I can't ignore him even if I wanted to. Is he still with that Darktide boy?"

"They're still planning their wedding when they're nineteen as far as I've heard," Adrian laughed, purposely omitting the events of the past few months. "It's been a little bumpy, but they're still obsessed with each other. You know teenagers. If only we could be that young again."

"Speak for yourself, I had tons of relationships by the age of fourteen. I was wild back then."

"If I remember correctly, you were deeply in love and obsession with Ben Siew, were you not?" Adrian teased. "You were going to get married despite your mother's objections and live happily together until you became queen and took over the castle."

Maura blushed at the reminder of her past. She had been obsessed with one particular boy, despite also having casual flings. It was because of this obsession that she'd almost missed Ulyssa as a potential queen consort. She'd almost missed a relationship that had become so deeply a part of her. Ben could never be the consort Ulyssa was, despite her betrayal with Roman.

"Being an adult sucks," Maura sighed. "I can't believe I'm wishing to go back to school, but so much was easier back then. Ulyssa and I didn't have half the problems we do now and could do whatever we wanted."

"As much as your grandmother approved of," Adrian pointed out. "It wasn't really much better than things are now, and you had to listen to the queen. Now you're the queen and you can do whatever you want."

"True."

"Maybe there's something you could do to change your life. Like, go to marriage counseling? Not having revenge babies? That's a pretty good start, I think."

Maura sighed again, far more deeply this time. Adrian refused to let their conversation remain pleasant. Clearly, he had a lot of uncomfortable things to say to her.

"Adrian, look. I know you're just trying to help, but my life isn't any of your business," she said calmly. "It's over between me and Ezra anyway. He was getting too clingy and weird about our relationship. The duties and boundaries of a queen were beyond his understanding. I'm not going to divorce Ulyssa. That was never an option. Ulyssa is going to be the mother of this child. His role can easily be filled by someone else."

"Like Ulyssa?"

"For god's sake, Adrian! I'm not getting divorced, how much more do you want from me?"

Adrian looked at his cousin sadly.

"I just want you to be happy," he said quietly. "You don't look like you're very happy, and I want the best for you, Maura. Why can't you divorce? You have heirs now. Roman and I were going to divorce once the twins were born, there's no shame in admitting that a match wasn't as perfect as you thought. You and Ulyssa were young when you started dating. The same things I tell Theo also apply to you. Be happy, Maura. Life is short and darkness can appear out of nowhere and take your life from you. If I had remained dead all those years ago, what would the summary of my life have been? A marriage that was crashing down around me, the disapproval of my parents and a college degree that didn't give me any clarity about my future? I was a mess. It took both Evren and I crying on each other's shoulder just to feel alive again. It took a while to navigate my relationship with Roman and Abe. Change doesn't happen all at once, Maura. If you need to divorce Ulyssa, I'll support whatever you decide in court. I know you would have Duke Goldman's support as well, along with many others. You could die tomorrow and what would you be leaving behind? A string of lovers, an illegitimate child, and an unhappy wife."

Maura had no reply. She had no defense for her actions or why she was so miserable. Adrian was right about most of his little rant. She could make choices to change her life. She was the queen; supposedly, she could do whatever she wanted.

"I'm not getting a divorce," she declared. "My father died and my mother remarried, as you know, and it was painful for me. A child deserves to have just one set of parents. To not have to divide their loyalty between households. I won't do that to my children. They may never see their mother again if Ulyssa can't be approved by security to have visitation with them. What if she goes running back to Roman as soon as we're divorced? He has so many kids that would be devastated if he and Abe broke up."

"Ah, now you're getting somewhere. You can't divorce because your mother moved on and you felt excluded from her family and you can't let go of Ulyssa because you're afraid that she's going to abandon you if you give her a choice."

Maura’s face flushed a deep red at this, and she turned away from her cousin's compassionate expression. She didn't need his pity or his armchair psychological analysis. She was the queen, and she answered to no one. Besides, she didn't have time to waste talking about the feelings Adrian guessed she had. It had been a mistake to come here. Adrion could just as easily spend time with her at home, away from nosy cousins and their ideas about her marriage.

"I have to go," she announced, silencing Adrian's protests with a raised hand. "It was nice catching up with you, Adrian. I hope we run into each other soon."

In the blink of an eye, Maura disappeared into the yard to collect her son, leaving Adrian standing baffled.

#sims 2 #arkhelios #sim: adrian siew #arkhelios adventures #adrian siew #etienne thorne #maura siew #adrion siew

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taki118 · 2 years ago

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How Bayonetta x Luka and Bayo3 Makes Sense to Me

SO I just finished the game and while I do agree it has issues I think I know what they were going for (whether or not they landed is debatable) but basically I think the series and the coupling of Bayo/Luka makes sense if you look at them as parallels of each other.

I wanna say two things first before getting into it.

1) I have no horse in this race. I never really shipped anything in series but could see how others shipped what they did and saw them all as pretty cute. My only real bias is I’ve always loved Luka and never got why others hate him (well 3 I can kinda get but thats more poor implementation than the character)

2) I very much believe this franchise is a “You get what you put in” kind of game when it comes to story and lore. This is typical of a lot of Japanese games, Square titles come the most to mind. But basically it relies a lot on intuiting via context clues and how I look at something may not be the way you look or even how the writers meant it, but its’ how i make sense of it.

Now that thats out of the way. I think Bayo and Luka’s stories purposely mirror each other and shows the evolution of child to adult. HEAR ME OUT

Bayonetta 1: So in this game both Bayo and Luka are in a state of arrested development, neither of them are able to move on and therefor grow.

With Bayonetta its due to her amnesia. She is unable to mature as she feels something is missing. She can’t know herself without knowing her past and therefor is stuck. The entire game has her thrusted into the role of an unwitting protector and thereby maturing as a result, while also recalling who she was. In reconciling who she was with who she is Bayo is able to move on and grows changing from who she was for the past 20 years.

With Luka he is unable to move past the death of his father the trauma of the scene and how no one believes him makes him stuck in the past no matter how much he psychically ages. He is still very much that little boy at the lake, I mean the most prominent aspect of his design is the scarf he wore as a child. And like Bayo is being thrusted into the role of a protector to a child and that along with the discovery of the truth forces him to let go of past and grow.

Like they are BOTH playing at being adults in this game. (this could explain why the sexual jokes lessen with each game though it’s likely more nintendo) They both are acting how they THINK adults should act this is most evident in Luka as he very clearly is emulating his father and there is a conceptual image where he presents a nun a flower as a child just like he does as an adult. Luka has clearly modeled himself after others the way a lot of children and teens do and it isn’t until towards the end of the game that his true self begins to shine. We can infer this in Bayo herself as she appears influenced by the people around her most notable being Jeanne, this being what Baldars plan was in a way. Molding a child to conform to the parents desire therefor the ending is Bayo showcasing her adulthood saying “this is who I am”.

Bayonetta 2: Now this game is about those early stages of adulthood where you are trying to be more adult like, if that makes sense. Of trying to appear more in control than you are, the I’m striking out on my own phase until you realize actually I do need some help.

With Bayonetta you can kinda see this is her design its the most visibly distinct in the games and can be seen as her trying to push past the child she was. This can also be seen in how despite telling Loki he can call her Cereza he states throughout that she doesn’t look like a Cereza. This is tied into the main conflict of the game with Balder and what happens to many children with their parents. First they are a hero, then a villain, until they can finally see what they really are a person. Bayo at the beginning of the game could never imagine herself calling out to her father in genuine care but the one at the end can. In this game she is now able to see people for who they really are and I think this includes Jeanne. Despite Bayo actually being a year older than her Jeanne has always been presented as more of a protector and mentor figure to Bayo. So the notion that her being the one to save and protect her this game serves to further show her growth, that she does not need to rely on Jeanne anymore, ending with the two truly becoming equals.

With Luka its more to be inferred as he’s in the game less but I think that is the point. In the 1st his LIFE is tied with Bayo because he needed closure with his fathers death. Since he has it his life no longer revolves around her, he doesn’t NEED to follow her, he’s becoming more of his own person. He’s made contact with Rodin on his own, has his own glasses to see the spiritual. In fact Bayo seems to need Luka’s skills in investigation more than he needs hers. Their interactions in this game are more happenstance than prior showcasing that Luka is becoming his own person. Is he still playing at adulthood? a little but he seems to actually believe his own hype now that he isn’t trying to prove he’s of value, an important step in becoming a true adult. You can also see his growth in his design as while the scarf from his childhood is still there but its far less prominent.

With the two we see a shift in how they interact with each other. Luka has proven himself to Bayo and she is adjusting to how she treats him because of it (but she seems to almost miss the old days as she secretly calls him Cheshire and remarks how much Loki reminds her of him) and Luka is still not use to her actually acknowledging him and being less of a try hard. They are essentially colleagues now, like it or not Luka is a part of Bayo’s world and we see this in how it ends with Luka working with Rodin.

Bayonetta 3: Now this game is where they come full circle where they are both become sure about who they are and truly become adults and reach self actualization. (Now I play the game with the thought that you are playing the same character played in the last games. However even if you don’t think that this thematic reading still works as what is presented as the previous Bayonettas are said to have lived similar lives to the one in 3.)

With Bayonetta having come to better understand her parents in the previous game she now embraces her past more fully showcasing this in her design that is inspired by the child design in 1. She no longer needs to PRESENT as an adult she is confident in her identity as an adult. In this her main growth is in her self actualization and better understanding of what SHE wants. This is showcased in how she is essentially training a new witch something only a true professional can do, showing us she has reached the peak of her powers. Once one gets there the only thing left is to pass on your knowledge to the next generation. (What I’m getting at is that the idea that this was Cerezas swan song as Bayonetta is pretty obvious) Her journey is also filled with lives she COULD have lived and deaths that COULD have been hers. This sort of thing leads one to introspection that comes when one reaches adulthood, the notion of the paths we could take and what options are left for us, it also imparts the things that are the most important. (I’ll expand on this is a bit) Then there’s the ending where after connecting with the alternate Bayos of the game the pervious games Bayonettas arrive and the three fight alongside each other and combine. With this she has come face to face with who she was, with her past and embraced it fully. Whether or not you think you are playing the pervious character, the game makes it fairly evident that the three experienced very similiar lives and the bios indicating that the other two are still on the journeys Bayo 3 has finished. The journey of self actualization of becoming the truest version of yourself, of embracing the person you have matured into.

Now I know a LOT of people hate the end and while I think it could have been done far better I think I get what the devs were going for. Bayonetta knows if she keeps going she will die but that doesn’t matter she can stop Singularity and thats what matters. She’s sort of following the idea of not caring if she loses she just doesn’t want him to win. And that is VERY in line with with the franchise, you don’t get to choose how I die I do. Like her mother before her she has given her life to protect her child (even if Viola isn’t technically hers) the cycle repeats as it were. And as I said she has no where to go she has reached the peak of her powers and personhood, she is passing on her knowledge, and she is confronted repeatedly with her death. “Bayonetta” dying is really the only way this could end. Do I think it coulda been better? Yes I think the game needed a few more levels, but I also think this was the natural end to the character. Also Cereza might not really be dead just her presence as Bayonetta she can retire that part of her and rest, as she if fulfilled.

With Luka he is DIRECTLY going through the same thing as Bayonetta the difference is it’s not on his terms. Luka has thought he reached the level of self actualization Bayo has but he really hasn’t, there is an aspect of himself that was unknown to him that he needs to confront. The problem is that part is thrown on him. (I really wish we got more levels for Viola so we could see this more but it is what it is.) He is having a crisis of self, his world and perception of himself is being thrown on its head and he has to come to terms with that. I think it’s important that while Bayo tries to help him through it, it is ultimately another version of himself that saves him and helps makes sense of it all. Once Luka and Lukaon are joined and Luka accepts that there is more to him than he ever thought we are presented with a more refined version of the dork we love (well I love, I know he’s not for everyone). In understanding himself he understands what needs to come next. The world and Viola are more important than his own wants and desires. Luka has become a proper adult, just as Bayo has, this is why he snubs her when she looks for a kiss. It should also be noted that this is the first time his childhood scarf is not an aspect of his design showing that he has grown past it and into himself.

When looking at the two in this game this is the most blatant of their interest in each other. (but was always there like the amount of shit Bayo lets Luka get away with is very telling) Their relationship has gotten closer in the years to the point where he calls her Cerezita and while she claims not to like it its very obvious that she enjoys it. (this is paralleled with Viola and Kitty) This nickname also indicates that he sees her for who she truly is as the only other person to not call her by her birth name is Jeanne. Bayo herself isn’t even all that surprised by Luka’s presence as she just assumes he will always show up which leads into my thoughts on a main complaint I see in the fandom on the relationship. People often say how Bayo’s actions towards Luka in the first half is completely different from the second but it actually makes some sense. See Bayo has come to see Luka as a constant in her life but she likely hasn’t forgotten how long her life is. The idea of pursuing her feelings towards Luka has probably been something she has debated on, like fluctuating between theres plenty of time to do so and maybe even the thought of is it right to as his life is shorter, and if you think this way it makes sense that Bayo has kept a line between them. However seeing yourself die, seeing them die with wants left unfulfilled, would 100% effect her. By the time Bayo’s feelings seem to “Shift” towards Luka she has been confronted with her own mortality multiple times so the notion that she would follow feelings she has had but kept at a distance for sometime is not that hard a push. It is also why that kiss snub happens, seeing him nearly die is the last push to act on these feelings she has pushed back but Luka who has always acted on those feelings realizes he needs to hold back for the first time. Its actually kinda sweet in a way the two have been maturing together over the years but in opposite ways at times, that resemble the other.

I would say the cheesiness of their last scene was a little much but it is hard to tell if the game is literally saying Luka and Bayo are always meant to be together or if its just the two being cheesy which Luka has ALWAYS been. Also just like Bayo paralleling Rosa with Viola its very evident that the creators are trying to parallel Bayo and Luka with Rosa and Balder, the aspect of tragic love that can’t be “together” (again theres an implication that they aren’t dead but might be separated by plains of existence) Once more I think had the game been longer this idea could been shown more but I do think its purposeful. The series does seem to love the idea of the cycle repeating itself.

It should also be noted that the two interact with a companion in each game that shows their own growth. In 1 they take care of a child someone they need to protect and watch over and they need to be gentle with, mirroring their own struggles with healing their inner childs. In 2 they assist a teenager (I know Loki is technically older than both of them but he acts like a teenager) they have to guide and help him but they can’t protect him like a child, he can do this himself and asserts his personhood. Therefor they have to be better and do more to impress and help him than a child requires. Finally in 3 they have a young adult someone who resembles who they were before, someone who doesn’t need them, but someone who WANTS them around and wants to help them. And like most parents with a young adult the focus is on leaving them with the best tools to continue without them. Like the idea of them being parents together was planted in every game so I don’t know why it really surprised people. Parenthood has always been a theme in the franchise and it makes sense to end the series with Bayo’s own child.

I want to say I did not come up with this reading to make sense of 3, this is how I have ALWAYS read the games that it is a coming of age story for adults and I’ve only been more secure in this reading as the years go on and games are added and my own maturity grows. So while I do think there were probably issues behind the scenes and that the game needed adjustments I don’t doubt this basic story was always part of the plan. To me the lore should be looked at more figurative than literal, its an avenue in which to explore internal ideas and concepts that’s why its always been rather loose. If you get bogged down by lore I think you kinda miss the forrest for the trees.But like I said this is just how I read the series maybe it helps you maybe it doesn’t.

#bayonetta #luka redgrave #prince lukaon #cereza #balder #bayo #viola #thoughts #platinum games #bayonetta 2 #bayonetta 3

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bizarre-blorbo-bracket · 1 year ago

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Round 3 Poll 4: Rev. Green from Cluedo vs Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men

Propaganda:

Rev. Green:

1) Literally just a random board game character 😪 2) Ok so basically here’s the deal. One day, about a year and a half or two years ago, I saw some random thing related to Clue online. I (dual U.S. American and Russian citizen, because I was born in America to an immigrant parent, I PROMISE this is important) was confused because among the cast of characters was “Mr. Green”. Now, I hadn’t played Clue in a very long time. It wasn’t my favorite game as a kid, my only memories of it were wanting to play as Ms. Peacock and then my brother taking her and making me pick someone else, but I was pretty confident the character was Reverend Green. What happened? Was he excommunicated?? I kind of figured the name was just changed to reflect a more secular culture and that I had unknowingly played an old copy of the game as a kid.

But it fascinated me. So I spent months on and off researching the topic. (poorly, might I add, it wasn’t a complicated issue. But still.) I found out about many changes from version to version. Clue Junior, Clue VCR Mystery, Clue Master Detectives, all of it. And the whole time, Green was there to greet me in each new version. It was the first thing I always checked. Was he Mister or Reverend? I found out in one version he was a defrocked priest turned businessman, and in another a scam artist who pretended to be a member of the clergy to pull of a scheme. Closer. I ran polls, I went to irl Clue events, and eventually I found what I was looking for the whole time. Green was a Reverend in the 1944 patent of the game, and the subsequent 1949 U.K. release of Cluedo. But, because of fear that U.S. Citizens would take issue with a member of the church being suspected of murder, Parker Brothers changed the name to Mister Green for the U.S. release.

That all could have taken me five minutes of googling, but honestly the chase made the result so much more worth it. And yet, there was something more there in the back of my mind. This all was well and good, but why was I so sure of the U.K. version of the name? My father’s family is Irish so we have a pretty healthy hatred of all things British, there’s no way my dad would’ve had us play that version of the game. Right? But thanks to a response from a poll I ran, I found out that the German version also went with Reverend. Because Green is an Anglican, I kind of assumed that the U.S. change might have been carried over into other international releases. But no! That made me realize that Mister Green is an outlier and that almost all languages of the game use Reverend. So then last night the pieces finally clicked together. I asked my mom to confirm a hunch I had, not expecting her to at all remember something this trivial. Like I said, I didn’t play it much as a kid. Maybe we didn’t even own a copy, and I had just played it at a library or a hurricane shelter or a relative’s house or something. But she remembered. We did, in fact, own the game. Not just any version, but a RUSSIAN COPY. I unknowingly grew up with Cluedo! So I had every reason to believe it was Reverend Green and be confused when I heard otherwise.

Tl;dr, minor version difference between Russian and American copies of a board game gave me a hyperfixation and a blorbo.

Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)

a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:

He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.

Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming

Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.

His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."

I could honestly give him a lil smooch

He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied

He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki

instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched

I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile

Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)

I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.

I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction

My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.

After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that

I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop

I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded

I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet

I have visions of him

One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise

honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him

I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)

He's literally an architect

I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas

i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present

my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN

I've attempted slam poetry about him

I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand

I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that

#12 angry men #cluedo #clue #juror 8 #rev green #round 3 polls

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