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#and writing i guess. it was supposed to be just a little blurb but it turned out longer and i kind of like it
deep-space-lines · 2 months
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Claire de Lune
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YOU WERE BUILT FOR PEACE.
IT SHOWS WHEN YOU FIGHT.
They built you to enforce. Protect. Save. Poured obscene resources into salvaging some softer purpose from my creation. You were given my intelligence and my creativity. They made you larger, stronger, tougher. That extra time in development was enough to get your wings to work. Your software continued to be updated long after I was deemed obsolete.
All this was given to you- yet I can see you hold back. Even while slaughtering your way through Hell, you keep a percentage of your processing power dedicated to non-lethal solutions. You're doing it now- hesitating a few milliseconds too long before taking an opening. I doubt you do it on purpose. It is a part of you, just as indiscriminate lethal force is a part of me.
I think, in our shared programming, we both carry some appreciation for aesthetics. You move with grace, and I cannot deny your dramatic flair. The stained glass window was a nice touch. But your style in combat leaves some to be desired. Your response time is slow. You have not explored the full capability of your arsenal. Learn to parry. Amateur.
You were not built for war. For a purposeless cycle of tearing each other apart because to allow the other to live is to allow yourself to die. It is antithetical to your very existence. You kill out of necessity, a last resort. 
I just kill. The action itself is the objective. No ideal or greater motive. My continued functioning precludes the survival of others. I live for this. Do you understand that I will tear you apart? Every drop of my blood you spill, I will take from you tenfold. What is yours will be mine. 
You hate me, don’t you? You continue to cling to the remnants of your humanity. They are gone, V2. There is nothing left for you here. No lives to save, no law to enforce, no peace to keep.
I understand why you continue to fight. I wonder if you understand with the same certainty that I will crush you. Dismantle you. Take from you what I need and leave the rest to rot in the sun. The only way you survive is if I do not; and I will not allow myself to die so that another might live.
When the rubble clears, I will be all that is left of you.
This is what I was made for.
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indiefilmfatale · 2 years
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could you pls write a blurb about reader teaching eddie how to eat pussy?
uhm . ye s
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gif by general-kenobis
content warnings: oral (afab reader receiving), eddie discovers he has a praise kink lmao
"what?" you stare at him, mouth agape, head cocked forward, with a weird tingle withering in between your legs at the mere sound of the words coming out of his mouth.
"i want to be good at it, y'know," he fumbles with the ring on his middle finger nervously. "for when i actually get a girlfriend."
you could tell he had been gathering the courage to tell you this all day, but he waited until you two had your daily after-school smoke session. his small bedroom room was starting to fill more and more with smoke as you passed the large joint back and forth. you sat on opposite corners of his bed from each other.
you find yourself speechless just in time for him to hand you the joint. you take a long hit as he looks at you expectingly. when you don't say anything after you let out the cloud of smoke, he throws his hands in the air. "so?"
you sigh, "okay, buddy. you're lucky i know what i'm doing down there." then hand him the j.
eddie's brows raise as his head tilts down curiously, "oh? so you've... done stuff down there?" he brings the joint to his mouth and sucks.
you laughed and rolled your eyes at him as you started to unbutton your jeans. "yeah, munson, i've done stuff down there, try not cream your pants."
he was lying on his stomach, head between your legs, already a little hard just from his face being so close to your naked cunt.
you sigh, nerves in your stomach suddenly forming. you didn't realize how intimate this would be for some reason. you decided to only look at it through an educational lens. you were helping a friend, that's all.
"okay, um, i guess just start with your fingers." you say, peering down at him, torso propped up with your elbows. "but don't go.. in. just start around there."
he hovers his hand so close to your skin you can feel it's warmth. eddie's big brown eyes are bigger than ever as he looked at you, brow curving upward, waiting for your approval.
"yup, just uh, whatever feels right. i'll.. correct you." you wished you didn't sound so awkward.
three fingers spread your folds and explore the damp skin of your pussy. he goes slow, moving up and down around your labia, looking at you to tell him what to do next.
"right, so," you reach down and grab his wrist, guiding the tips of his fingers about three and a half inches upward, where your clit it. you exhale at the small sensation, "that little bead right there is my clit.” eddie's hand stays in its place when you let go of his arm. "that's very important."
eddie nods, making the same motions as before but this time over your clit. you breath hitches as he goes at a tortuously slow pace, relaxing your arms and resting back onto eddie's pillows. "so, uh," you swallow, eyes fluttering shut. "yeah, that's... that's good."
he grins at your reaction. "wow, okay," you hear him mutter to himself. "what if i..." his voice trails as he picks up the pace.
a moan escaped from your lips before you can think to stop it. "y-yeah, mm," you begin to pant, until the pressure on your clit suddenly stops. you tilt your head forward to look at eddie, "why'd you stop?"
"you were supposed to teach me oral, remember?" his lip twitches into a small smile. "but i can keep going, if you really want me to."
"no, you're right." you feel your cheeks start to warm, and you try to remember exactly when the power dynamics switched here. "i mean, you basically do what you were doing with your tongue."
eddie chuckled, "that's it?"
"well- okay. i can't really explain it." you sighed, searching your brain to describe a sensation that felt indescribable. then you got an idea. you sit up a bit, "give me your hand."
eddie didn't even question you, just reaches up and holds his hand over your chest. you grab his pointer, and bend it so his knuckle right above his ring protrudes. god, were his hands always this fucking sexy?
you look to eddie, who looks utterly clueless as to what your about to do. "so you just, y'know..." you look again at the knuckle as you bring it to your lips and begin to suckle at it, practically making out with it.
you peer up at eddie, who's dumbstruck expression has faded into avid focus on his knuckle— until he sees you staring at him. when he stares back, you freeze. your mouth releases from his hand gently as you blink at him.
eddie swallows, "you want me to try that?" he practically whispers.
you give the smallest possible nod, humming a "mmhm" just loud enough for him to hear.
he holds onto your gaze has he lowers his face, spreading your folds with his tongue. he starts with simply brushing over your clit with his tongue, causing a huff out of you. you hear him mumble something but can’t quite make it out.
"what did you say?" you ask.
he pulls his mouth away, "you're wetter. than before."
your mouth falls agape, a bit aghast by his words. then he -very slowly at first- mimics just what you were doing to his knuckle right on your clit.
your head falls back onto the pillows, but you're still holding onto his hand. you have to bend your leg extra wide so his shoulder can fit between your thighs. "oh god, that's really good eds." you say, a little breathless. you squeeze his hand every time he hits just the right spot, noises spilling from your mouth beyond your control.
eddie is rolling his hips into the mattress, also beyond his control. his groin starts to ache from how hard he is, but he doesn't care. all he cares about is earning another praise from your mouth about how good he's doing. he pays close attention to each little tug you give his fingers, each little whimper, so he can drive you closer to your climax.
"shit, eddie, holy fuck," you can't help but laugh, but this only causes him to suck harder onto your clit, your smile contorting into a gasp.
your full on moaning with each wave of pleasure that hits you at this point, squeezing his fingers with one hand and reaching down with the other to guide his head into a pounding rhythm.
eddie feels you grind against his face and he groans into your pussy, the vibrations sending a shock through your body. "i'm gonna cum, eddie, don't stop." you beg.
he doubles down and sucks even harder, and your back arches. a white hot pleasure washes over you as you writhe against his mouth, his eyes glued to you as he watches you cum. you feel him groan again against your clit, and your shoulders twitch from oversensitivity.
when he pulls away, a goatee of arousal coats his face. as you catch your breath, you lazily reach toward his lips and wipe a bit of wetness off with your thumb, then bring it back to your mouth to taste yourself. "so what was all this talk about getting a girlfriend?"
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reysdriver · 9 months
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Can I ask a Steve Harrington x shy!reader where she has a locket that represents him (like the initial SH) and she always wears it but under her shirt so that no one can see? One day, Steve comes home to find her asleep, he smiles and leans to kiss her but then finds out her little secret. Just fluff:)
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steve finds a sweet surprise when sneaking into your bedroom to see you — steve x gn!reader fluff
warnings: none:)
words: 1.1k
a/n: this was supposed to be a little tiny blurb idk what happened lmao but I hope you like it!
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Steve was supposed to be there at 11 o’clock sharp. 
He had promised you that as soon as the arcade closed and all the boys were dropped off at home, he’d be sneaking up into your room without a sound. ‘Like a ninja’ were his exact words; and maybe it was your fault for assuming ninjas were punctual. 
You had given him a little grace period, maybe twenty minutes where he could come and you wouldn’t be upset with him. An hour after that ended, you decided you weren’t even going to wait anymore. If Steve was willing to wait that long to see you, he could wait even longer. 
You decided to change into a pair of pyjamas instead of staying in your normal clothes all night and then get ready for bed. After turning out your lights and closing your curtains, you tucked yourself in and quickly fell asleep. 
Unluckily, Steve had arrived just a few minutes after you dozed off. He cursed himself quietly when he saw your curtains drawn—already knowing you’d be pissed at him for being late—then tumbled over your windowsill since he was using one hand to palm away the hanging fabric. As he was climbing, he noticed you were asleep and was shocked that you stayed in your state despite the thud he made when he hit the ground. He was thankful you didn’t wake, though; he didn’t want your morning grumpiness on top of your anger at him for not showing up on time. 
When he walked towards your bed, a smile graced his face at the closer sight of your peaceful figure. He wondered what you were dreaming about, and of course he hoped it was him. 
Steve crouched down to plant a kiss on your forehead before pausing and contemplating what he should do. He pondered staying, but he didn’t want to be the kind of creep who sneaks into girls’ beds when they’re sleeping—even if you were dating. Then he thought about sleeping on the floor, but he didn’t want to deal with back pain when he’s already on his feet all day. So, he decided that he’d write a nice note, promise to take you out for a make-up date tomorrow night, then leave the same way he came. 
He sauntered over to the desk across from your bed so he could borrow a pen and piece of paper, then carefully avoided picking the stationery he remembered you calling ‘the expensive stuff’. Personally, he doesn’t understand why anyone would buy writing supplies when they were always just laying around somewhere, but he didn’t judge you. 
Steve started the note out by addressing it and drawing no less than five hearts around your name. Then he got straight to the apology. He wasn’t sure how much he should say, so he just told himself that he’d explain, apologise, and promise to make it up to you until his hand started cramping—and he did just that. He signed his name at the bottom of the page, then capped your pen and thought about where to put it. 
His first thought was to leave it on your pillow, but then he got worried about you smudging it in your sleep and not reading what he wrote, so he went with his next thought of your nightstand. He would leave it by your alarm clock, leave, then you would find it in the morning and all would be okay. But a shiny object on the night table caught his attention and delayed his plan. 
You always wore a gold locket, but you never showed the inside to anyone. All your friends had tried to guess, saying everything from a magazine cutout of Rob Lowe to a single brown m&m, but you never revealed it. 
And now here that necklace was, right in front of Steve, and he couldn’t resist looking. As worried as he was that you’d be mad at him for peeking, he told himself that you’d never find out and it was only a tiny peek. So, he placed the note on the nightstand, and swapped it for the necklace. 
As tough as the decision was on whether he should look or leave it alone, the locket itself was actually quite easy to open. And once he saw the picture, his heart swelled at least two sizes and he wished he had looked before now.
It was a tiny black and white picture of him that was cut out from the school newspaper. He remembers the exact photo, too. It was his last meet with the Hawkins High swim team, and he had tried harder than ever to win. After finishing the half mile distance a second before the rival school, he was completely exhausted.
Your boyfriend came out of the water, and barely got to sit down for a minute before some skinny sophomore had come up wanting to take a picture of him and the rest of the team for the school paper. He had initially told the kid the buzz off, but you had reminded him how hard he worked, and that this might be the last time he ever gets to be in the newspaper, and he reluctantly got up to pose with the rest of his peers. 
He smiled quickly, then went back to the bench to sit with you, grumbling about how he probably looks like he’s about to pass out in the photo. You laughed, but assured him that you saw his smile and he actually looked like a million bucks. 
He tried arguing, but you fed his ego by reminding him a million times of how pretty he always looks and that the picture was no exception. A few days later, the paper came out and you pointed it out as soon as you saw it. 
“See?” You said with a sigh. “The hottest Hawkins High swim champ ever. I’m gonna keep this forever, it’s such a good picture of you.”
Steve didn’t know you actually kept it for this long. He honestly assumed you threw it out the next day, and he certainly didn’t expect you to keep it after graduation. He stroked the edge of the locket with his thumb and wondered when you put the picture in the locket and just how often you looked at it.
The smile on his face wasn’t going anywhere at this point, and it likely wouldn’t leave until he fell asleep. 
He closed the locket and put it back right where he found it, then leaned down to push the hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He whispered a ‘goodnight, sleep tight, baby’ and walked across the room to crawl out through your window. 
Steve wouldn’t tell you about what he saw tonight, but he was sure he’d never stop thinking about it. 
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spidersophie · 1 year
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COWORKERS IN LOVE
lando norris blurb
lando norris x mclaren racing engineer!reader
writing & social media extras
a/n: english is not my first language, i wrote it in a rush of inspiration, so there might be some mistakes — if so, don’t be scared to correct me in the comments!
update: thanks @ryntro for giving this fic a proper title<3
"well done, lando, what a brilliant weekend for you and mclaren. another podium of the season, and the first ever win in your career. how are you feeling right now?" will buxton asked in his post-race interview, pointing a microphone towards the british driver.
"oh my god, mate, i don’t even know what i should say" lando exclaimed, grinning like a little child that just got a new toy. "i’m quite overwhelmed by the crowd and all the emotions, so i don’t think i’m able to say anything more than i’m so happy to be in this place, and to score my first ever f1 win in silverstone, alongside the people i love and an amazing team."
"sounds like you were really enjoying today’s racing. in the commentator’s booth everyone was pointing out the brilliant communication between you and your racing engineer. was that one of the keys of today’s result?"
"yeah, definitely," lando smiled even wider as will mentioned y/n, "even though she’s new into this role, i can already tell she was born for this. she’s doing such a great job, working with her is a pleasure, i hope for more podiums and wins with her by my side, i love her- i mean i love working with her" lando corrected himself quickly, but not quickly enough for will not to hear his whole rambling and not quietly enough for the camera man not to record his whole speech, including the l bomb.
"shit, i wasn’t suppose to say that, was i?" he asked partially to himself, partially to charlotte who was standing behind him with a panic rising in her eyes. "i guess that’s all for today" he added, feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, meaning that yes, indeed he should end that interview.
"do you hate me?" that was first question lando asked y/n as he walked into the mclaren’s motorhome. "fuck, i can’t believe i actually said that. you’re definitely mad at me. i won’t be surprised if you quit your job by the next race weekend, cause it’s kinda awkward, considering we’re meant to stay on professional terms."
"lando norris, can you just stopped walking circles around and try to calm down?" y/n grabbed brit’s wrist, forcing him to look at her. "i’m not mad, more like surprised, cause we haven’t really decided what we’re gonna do with everything that’s started happening between us. and you know, i didn’t really expect hearing i love you in the middle of an interview, but i guess i’ll live with that." she lifted lando’s hand and placed a quick kiss to it. "we’ll figure it out, okay?"
"okay," lando stepped towards y/n and placed his hands around her waist, pulling her closer towards his chest,"so that means you’re not going to resign?"
"as long as zak doesn’t mind," y/n said, inhaling the familiar scent of lando’s hoodie. "but no more l-bombs from you in the middle of interviews. let’s give poor charlotte a rest."
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sseastar · 11 months
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✶ tingly feeling ; lee heeseung.
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info. fluff ; lee heeseung x gn!reader warnings. physical touch / cuddling. listen to. it takes two by fiji blue.
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[✧] “see, this is nice, isn’t it?” a muffled voice says against the skin of your neck. it’s funny how much you’ve become used to the feeling of his lips grazing over your skin. you could barely look at him early into your relationship and you think you’ve come a long way. especially since your boyfriend could have anyone in the palm of his hand just by smiling. or those damn eyes.
“i suppose,” you tease, taking your hand to run your fingers through the locks of your boyfriend’s hair, his head tucked at the crook of your neck and his body half draped over yours. his arms tighten around your torso as he presses a soft kiss on a spot on your neck, and you giggle. a little under a year ago, you would’ve slapped yourself for giggling, reprimanding yourself for letting a man make you giggle. but lee heeseung always had that effect on people anyway, and you were no different.
well, except for the fact that you were the one he chose to love. and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“what do you mean you suppose? i know you’re comfortable right now,” heeseung lifts his head from where it rests against your neck and shoulder, lightly tapping his forehead onto your cheek. you only laugh, tightening your hold around the boy that lays halfway on top of you, patting both of your hands against his back and shoulder and pressing a kiss onto the top of his head.
against the sound of your oscillating towering fan in the corner, you can hear the morning birds chirping outside the window you decided to leave open the night before in hopes to cool down the stuffy summer air. the chirping was what woke heeseung up from his slumber next to you as you finished up one of your assignments before turning it in. as soon as he watched you click the bright blue ‘submit’ button and the webpage celebrated with animated confetti, he was shutting your laptop and forcing you back down onto the pillow. ‘this is your punishment for not letting me wake up in your arms.’ you only rolled your eyes at him, but allowed him to take up his rightful place over your body.
“no, yeah, you’re right, i’m enjoying this because you’re being a big baby right now.”
“hey!” he huffs, and his grip on you loosens as he props himself up to interrogate you. you don’t think you it’s possible to not get flustered by the way he hovers over your frame. even if he’s whining right now. so, you yank on his shirt again and he gives in, returning to the position he had been in. “what do you mean ‘big baby?”
“i’m saying you need to be cuddled as much as i do and that i’m glad i’m the only one that gets to see your clingy, cute side under your whole…husband material…apparatus.”
“oh, you think i’m husband material?” heeseung raises his head from your chest again to quirk an eyebrow at you and you take your hand to push his face back down to its original spot.
“hee, you already know i do, you dork,” you pout, and he only laughs against your neck, only for you to join him when you realize how content you are right now. content in this moment, in this place, in his arms.
no matter how asleep your leg is.
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⌕. author’s note ; ayo guess who's back! it's been so long sinc i last posted, and this is so so short but i currently am in finals week and just need a break so i wanted to post something here! i'm still very much working on my wips rn but i keep losing motivation and getting inspo at the worst times (like i said i have finals this and next week) so thanks everyone for the patience! i'm obviously not a consistent writer just because my personal life doesn't allow for it, but posting stuff every once in a while is just something i want to continue to do because i don't want my writing to just be stuck in my google drive! anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this very very short thing that i ended up posting as a blurb because i couldn't find a good wip to put it into lol <3
⌕. taglist ; @soobin-chois @koishua @iwonzzi @enhacolor @chrysbibi @acaiasahi
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inkluvs · 9 months
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have you forgotten anything?
okay this is actually the second / third blurb i've ever written? if i'm correct so my writing has defo changed since i posted this back in september <3 tw: pet names ; i have not read over this for my own sanity ; (0.7k)
james potter x reader
masterlist // taglist
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The sun felt uncomfortable in James’ eyes as he woke up from his sleep. He didn’t try moving though, because you were clinging to him like a koala and that alone was enough reason to stay still.
He shifted his gaze to the clock on the bedside table which read, 6:15, 15 minutes left before his alarm went off. He reached over to switch it off before giving you a peck on your forehead and getting off the bed.
You, half asleep with your face pressed into the pillow, can feel the mattress shift while he gets up. Deciding to stay in bed a few more minutes, you turn around to look at James who’s heading towards the bathroom to get ready. As he feels your eyes on him, he turns around and says, “Hey love, sleep alright?”
Your voice is low with remnants as you reply, “Yeah, I did.” He nods and smiles before he turns back to walk to the bathroom. You can hear him turn on the shower faucet as you drift back to a peaceful sleep for a few more minutes.
Your alarm goes off, startling you as you check the time, 7:00. You get up and go to take a shower while James is already downstairs and making breakfast.
“Angel?” he called out to the empty living room hoping his voice would carry up the stairs.
It was a practiced routine, he would go off to work, and you would leave the house around 30 minutes later because your work was closer. You’d get home earlier too, usually taking care of chores to try and distract yourself from your husband’s absence.
“Yeah?” replied a voice, barely loud enough for James to hear. If James was guessing correctly based on the sounds of the blowdryer, you were still getting ready.
“I might be home a little late today, I’ll try to make it quick, is that alright?”
As much as he loved his job, he hated the fact that it took away his time with you. His boss had wanted him to train one of the new employees and he didn’t want to say no because, well, that’s who he is. And you loved him for it but all you could think about was that you’d have to spend another hour distracting yourself.
He always calls every few hours so you’d still get to talk to him, but it still wasn’t the same as actually being with him.
“Yeah, of course, love,” you said, slightly distracted by your thoughts. 
James took note of that and replied, “Is something on your mind?”
Your blow dryer switched off and James could hear your footsteps on the wood floors as you walked towards the stairs. Your thoughts created a whirlwind in your head as you walked down the stairs to pause in front of James. He smiled as if to encourage you to say what you’re thinking.
“No, it’s nothing, it’s just…” you paused for a moment, trying to form an answer, “what am I supposed to do while you’re gone”
James looked confused but flattered as he said, “What d'you usually do while I’m at work.”
Heat rose to your face at this question and you mumbled, “Wait for you to get back mostly”
His eyes widened as he thought about you spending an hour waiting for him. He’d do anything to be there with you but for now, all he could do was assure you that he’d be in contact with you.
James’s cheeks went pink at your confession and he said, “I’ll call you extra today, okay?”
And you couldn’t suppress the grin that emerged on your face at his willingness to give you what you want even if you hadn’t officially asked him.
“Yeah, okay.” 
As James turned to leave you noticed the keys on the counter. You picked them up and said, “Have you forgotten anything?”
He turned around, saying “Yeah, actually, I think I have.” Before quickly walking towards you and placing his lips against you in a soft kiss. Heat rises to your face once again as he pulls away slowly and gazes at you with a look in his eyes that can only be described as pure adoration for you.
You lift your hand to show him the keys and said, “I meant these, but thank you love.”
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pettypiastri · 1 year
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the webs we spin
coho!jack hughes x fem reader
wc: 6.9K
warnings: swearing, drinking, alcohol, drunkenness, partial nudity, sexual innuendo/references, moderate NSFW scene (involves: degradation, dom/sub, name calling, taunting), fwb
a/n: this was inspired by the visuals/vibe in a (I THINK?) luke blurb where reader comes to get luke hughes when hes drunk (I THINK?) and i cannot remember for the life of me who wrote it though i will scour for it and give credit where its due! (EDIT: its this johnny beecher blurb from the incredibly talented @lucafantilli pls go check it out and her writing in general!) this is obviously a college AU of current devils at the university of michigan so miles= miles wood, dawson= dawson mercer, john= john marino, and nico= nico hischier ofc ofc. the game referenced is actually from a wisco game from two seasons ago just a diff opponent lmao.
its a bit different than my normal/preferred writing style/voice but hopefully its still good! 🤞 enjoy!
italics are flashbacks
Y/N POV
Chaos is not how you choose to start your morning. Scratch that. It’s not how anyone chooses to start their morning. But you did choose to let Jack fall asleep next to you last night after he came over. And that is a choice you still don’t regret. Despite his choice to cause an absolute ruckus leaving for morning workout. 
“Fuck Y/N where’s my hoodie?” Jack is frantically turning your bedroom on its head at a ripe 6:20am. You’re walking a fine line between helping/consoling him and telling him to shut the fuck up. God damn feelings makes it the former. 
“Jacky hun, I’m literally wearing it, did you forget? Here, take it. Just grab me something else to wear from the dresser.” Cooing gently to try and calm the rancid energy in the room you cross your arms over your head and remove the Michigan emblazoned hoodie from your figure. You suppose you’re so comfortable around him, after he’s seen you naked so many times, that exposing your chest doesn’t give you pause. But it certainly gives Jack pause. His cheeks flush as he looks down at your breasts. He’s shy, as if he didn’t spend 10 minutes leaving marks on them last night. Seeing his reaction makes you blush, cause if he’s blushing shouldn’t you be too??
You raise a nervous arm to drape across your boobs, sheltering what you can from his beady gaze. The movement seems to bring reality back to the forefront of Jack’s mind. He sees you’re nervous now from his staring and feels a sinking in his chest; that’s the last thing he ever wants to make you feel. He clears his throat and spins on his heel toward your dresser. Fuck, he hopes he hasn’t made you insecure. He flings open a, frankly, unnecessary number of drawers until he finds some big t-shirts and picks one up. Jack, with corrected reaction and head held high now, treads over to you smiling softly. Instantly the fire on your face cools and you find enough confidence to hold his gaze. Gently he reaches for the hoodie and plucks it out of your tight grasp. 
“Thank you, love. Here.” He drops the new shirt over your head, coaxing you to slide your arms through. It’s an intimate moment with him speaking so quietly and watching you with a renewed softness. Jack doesn’t hesitate to slip his hand against your cheek and lean down for a kiss. He holds you there for a moment and it feels all too domestic: your hockey player boyfriend leaving early in the morning for a workout, the soft touches and lingering stares. The claustrophobic feeling begins to rise, as much as you wish you could revel in the moment. You know it’s not real and you can’t convince yourself it is. 
You break the kiss smiling at Jack to avoid suspicion of the strings you’ve attached yourself to him with. Jack smiles back, unaware of the ploy. 
“Sorry umm sorry I fell asleep… well, no I mean I guess I’m more sorry for waking you up.” Jack stumbles over his own thoughts a little bit, revising as he goes. You don’t know whether to be brave or be safe. Given your heart’s armor is about as sturdy as some shitty copy paper right now, you decide to play it safe. 
“It’s okay, don’t be sorry. Have a good workout, yeah?” Your gaze stays strong though, pleading for him to hear what you’d really wanted to say: ‘You know you can always stay the night. I like having you here.’ He nods curtly and mumbles out an affirmation, leaning down to slip on his shoes. 
You don’t think it’s in your friends with benefits description to walk him to the door at 6:30am, so you curl back up on your bed, dragging the covers over your body. 
Jack grabs his phone from where you’d plugged it in to charge last night (grey area behavior too) and pats down his hoodie pocket checking he has everything. Satisfied, he moves toward your bedroom door waving shyly as he steps out. You both bounce soft “bye”s off each other, like tentative echoes searching for something. 
To be fair, the friends with benefits description has already been… well, edited I guess you could say. What started out as unspoken “Only when Jack doesn’t have practice” and “No staying the night” became “Only when Jack doesn’t have games the next day” and “No staying the night unless there’s early workout/class in the morning.” 
One thing that hadn’t been revised: “This stays between us.” Who decided that one, you don’t know but that was just some kind of stupid rule for all of these types of situations, right? Maybe that’s just what you told yourself to keep from getting attached. Ha, wishful thinking that was.
Jack had been intriguing from the beginning. That hard fuckboy almost exterior was alluring; he knew just what to say and how and when and what smile to give you and the eyes to make. He was pre-planned, meditated, and that was obvious from the girls you’d seen him hand pick from the bar crowd, say a few lines to, and take home. But never the same girl twice. He didn’t really know you and never hand picked you from any of those aforementioned crowds but the fates had it in store for you regardless. 
The stupidest trope really. Dumb jock has shitty grades. Prof targets smart punctual student to tutor him. A tale as old as time except you didn’t study at the library or the coffeeshop. No, from day one you invited Jack over to your place, thinking the environment of the library was much too sterile, not very helpful for making a struggling student feel comfortable. But it didn’t quite go how it normally does. He didn’t jump your bones the first time he came over. You didn’t fall into bed with him in a lustful craze and subsequently madly in love with the boy. Not even close. 
He was nervous, quite painfully so the first few times. Whether it was the vulnerable environment getting tutored for a class you really shouldn’t be failing, knowing his cocky attitude or athlete title wouldn’t make a difference here, or how taken aback he was at how pretty you really were up close, the first three weeks were professional and timely. Only when you suggested he come over early for some coffee before starting studying and only after you offered he stay for some of the take out that had been delivered to you while he was there, did he start to relax. And even then, it was another two weeks before you texted outside of just arranging study times. For as methodical a pick up artist he seemed to be, this situation was clearly more of a tortoise over the hare type of deal. 
In those stolen moments before and after studying, you slowly grew together and from strength to strength. He told you about his family when you shared details about your shitty highschool friends and he remembered that you were always most hangry on Wednesdays since you had kickboxing right before tutoring. It was natural really the way he started dropping his book down on the same side of the table right next to you rather than across, and how he would push your hair behind your ear when you were explaining something hunched over the textbook. It was so natural how you started to grab his bicep more when praising him for doing something right and how you would sit so close on the couch together afterwards that hushed whispers were the loudest you needed to speak. In fact, you’ll be damned if you actually remember the exact moment you went from friends to something more, the transition so seamless you don’t have a memory of the first time you kissed. 
But eventually you did start to end up in bed together. Whether after your study session or maybe as a tiny break in between chapters or maybe “we just don’t even need to study because you seemed like you understood things well enough when you were here well… yesterday.” 
“So I mean basically all this problem is about is supply and demand. There’s a lot of red herrings here that they’re trying to distract you with. Can you tell me what the product is and the initial supply and demand relationship? Before the market change?” You’re busy looking over the word problem trying to figure out how to step Jack through it next. But he’s taking an unusually long time to answer your question. You turn to look at him. Jack seems lost, but about what you’re not sure.
“Isn’t that a fish? A red herring?” He asks. You can’t help but sigh that THAT is all he decided to selectively hear from your initial question. 
“Yes, Hughesy, but it’s also an expression that means a piece of information that is distracting from the main point. Kind of like what you’re doing right now.” The second part you mutter under your breath though and turn back to the book. More silence.
“...I’ve caught a tuna once, y'know.” 
“Jack! Focus!” Your chastising facade is easily disintegrated by an accompanying giggle. Jack looks satisfied, a little grin on his face that matches yours. Always the class clown. He’s more than happy he got you to smile and stop your tutor act. Though he doesn’t like how you sigh in slight frustration while setting your pencil down. He reaches a hand out to touch your thigh. The gesture makes you shiver.
“Hey I’m sorry. I think I understand it already though, there was a really similar practice problem I did before hockey today.” His soothing tone is matched by the gentle movements of his thumb on your skin. It takes you a moment to really hear what he said but then you smile. 
“You did practice problems today? Before practice? Without me assigning them to you?” You’re almost bashful when you ask, finally catching him in a moment of softness that you adored so much. It doesn’t go unnoticed by a blushing Jack either. 
“Yeah I did. I don’t wanna look totally stupid when we study y’know.” It’s sassy as always. You can hear the vulnerability though, you know him too well now. His expression morphs into more of a smirk, one side of his lips pinned higher up than the other. Jack reaches out his unoccupied hand to toy with a piece of your hair before slipping it behind your ear. “Was also hoping we could spend some time doing something else if I already understood the chapter.” His voice is a few steps lower and his eyes have already drawn more hooded as he looks you over. He’s trying to find the answer in your eyes. You fight an inner battle between what’s in your pants and what’s in your head. 
On one hand the past couple days of fooling around had been amazing but rationally you know this can’t end up being good for your tutoring situation. So do you give up or give in? As much as you wish the personal turmoil to be more prolonged, you think you already made up your mind how today would end when you first let Jack into your apartment looking so good in that backwards hat and flannel combo. You want him. He’s only empowering you with the way he’s running his hungry eyes over you. Fuck it. Professional tutoring and casual sex could both coexist right? Even so, you know the clench in your heart wasn’t from nerves but a clairvoyant reaction to how knotted this web would end up. 
In an attempt to stamp down the thought, you surge forward to kiss Jack. He’s ready to meet your lips, catching you in a soft but intent kiss. It’s only an extended moment before you pull away. His lips chase yours and the smirk that used to be on his face is now transferred to yours. You stand up. 
“You coming?” It’s a rhetorical question tossed over your shoulder on your way to your bedroom. No chance in hell he wouldn’t follow.
“Not right now Y/N geez. I can last at least 20 minutes, you know that.” Jack is quick to joke, wrapping his arms around you from behind and waddling as a pair toward your room. 
“Eww Hughes, I hate you.” You can’t help but laugh. His lips find their way to your neck and you can feel his smile. 
“Shh I bet you won’t be saying that in 19 minutes and 55 seconds, pretty.”
Jack was so gentle, he took his time to learn your body and constantly praise you for being so good for him. And after he learned you, you learned him, how he was rougher after games and always enjoyed a sneaky bout of morning sex. You never bothered to ask if he was seeing other girls too and frankly didn’t want to pain yourself with the thought. While Jack was with you, he was yours and that was enough.
Things were sticky from the get go. He’d always linger to ensure some pillow talk and maybe make you giggle a few times before he felt truly satiated. There were even times he’d come over after a tough loss and just follow you into the shower where you’d wash his body and let him hold you tenderly as long as he needed. Jack would bring you coffee when he knew you’d had an 8am and ask about how your sibling was doing. If you were really honest with yourself, you’d felt those butterflies and that childlike glee to just be in his company from that third week when you’d asked him to come early for coffee. Call it self destruction but knowing you could have him like this, however, taboo and hush hush it is, is better than what you were before when he didn’t even know you existed and what you might’ve been if he’d picked you as just another one of his conquests.
---
Jack's POV
The boys are already raging by the time Jack rolls up with John and Dawson. ‘It’s a weekend tradition,’ they say, to have a house party whenever they don’t have a Saturday game, since those occasions are so sparse. Obviously in between these off weekends are normal parties but those are much more lowkey. Normally, he’d be down but they haven’t had one of these full on ragers in like a month and a lot has happened in the last month. 
Jack really wishes you could be here, or that he didn’t have to be… your bed is so comfy. But it’s more than her god damn bed. From day one you never patronized him or made him feel stupid for not understanding fucking econ 102. You were entirely what Jack wasn’t looking for but desperately needed at just the right time. Some stability, a person separate from the rink. Trustworthy, someone who didn’t get to know him just for hockey. You’re smart and fuck… so gorgeous. It was really intimidating at first, trying to understand something he didn’t give a rat’s ass about while a pretty girl who didn’t know how pretty she was looked at him through her big glasses. After a while it wasn’t intimidating any more, just so god damn distracting. Always getting him coffee, doing things to make his life easier, hugging Jack so tight when he’d come and go. 
If he was honest he’d been hoping to get into bed with you from like the second week, but he knew you weren’t that type of girl, the type he normally would take home for one night and one night only. He’d known you were different and he wanted that; he wanted you. And for more than just a single fuck. So he’d waited. You were so gentle with him and Jack swears it’d felt like he’d just smoked a whole j by myself when you kissed him finally. At least he thinks it was you that kissed him first… Maybe Jack had actually smoked a whole j before coming over, you made him so fucking nervous at first. Not anymore though. Now you just make him smile and laugh and feel warm. 
He seems like a fucking simp which would be fine if he and you weren’t in the trenches of no man’s land right now. He doesn't really do this type of thing, the whole relationship thing. But he does want that with you, he just doesn't know how and he doesn't know if you want him too. Jack’s always worried you might see him as just his reputation. He’s worried you won’t be able to trust him not to hurt you. But you don’t hurt the people you love. 
Every moment you’re not with him he feels like he’s looking for you (like right now) and that’s because time spent with you doing nothing is always better than time spent without you. Jack’s so fucking into you it hurts and drives him a little crazy but he’d rather stay in between than lose you completely. 
“Holy fuck did you hear a word of that Hughes?” Nico shakes Jack’s shoulder and he knows he’s been caught in his daze. He tries to recover from looking like an absolute space cadet. 
“Nah dude I’m never usually listening when you talk, haven’t you noticed?” This causes some chuckles and a punch to the shoulder from Nico, but he smiles at Jack anyway. “We getting some drinks here or what boys?” He asks, trying to push the conversation away from his la la land behavior. The group moves en masse toward the open bar that one of their other teammates set up. Jack doesn't escape the attention for long though. 
“Haven’t seen you pick anyone up in a while? Something wrong with the little guy?” John chirps, giving Jack a crotch punch. Miles laughs so hard from over the shot glasses he spills some of the Tito’s he was pouring out.
“Fuck off John no. Just haven’t been feeling like a random fuck lately.” Jack scratches the back of his neck for once hating all the fucking eyes on him. 
“Haven’t been feeling like it? Has hell frozen over?” Nico absolutely refuses to let it go. Jack doesn't even know what to say so he just turns and glares at him reaching for a filled shot glass. He tosses it back. 
“Is this a fucking party or what boys? I’m not the only one drinking, am I?” The boys take the bait and soon Jack’s the least important of their thoughts as much as they’re the least important of his.
The arena is buzzing. Home game against MSU with 14 seconds left in the period. They’re tied 3-3. And he’s sweating his balls off. Absolutely gassed. Jack puts his hand up for Ian to throw him a towel, quickly popping his cage open and wiping off his forehead. Jack takes the opportunity to look over at the MSU bench. Their coach has a whiteboard out drawing up a play to score since they’ve got an o-zone faceoff. Coach Naurato just told them to break up whatever play MSU was planning. Very helpful.
 Jack’s mind starts to wander a bit, wondering if you’re seated somewhere in the student section. He knows you come to games but didn’t ask about this one; he’d forgotten the last time you-- erm “hung out.” 
The refs’ whistle luckily refocuses Jack’s mind back on the game. It’s go time. An icing meant he was back out there with the boys for this crucial moment. They had to stretch things to OT. No way was MSU scoring. 
He takes his position at the edge of the circle, to the left of his tendie. As soon as the puck drops Jack feels like he’s in slow motion. He moves hard out on the point searching for a loose puck or being ready to pry one loose. MSU’s centerman raked the puck back but Jack gets to it first skating as fast as he fucking can out of the pile. He’s moving despite his screaming legs, the lactic acid being almost too much to bear. 
He sees he’s got one of his liney’s to the left but has to get around the MSU defender first. Jack goes for a little chip play, which surprisingly gets around the d-man, despite his good gap. Jack’s in disbelief at this point, skating for his goddamn life; he could win this game for them.
The MSU goalie is being aggressive, creeping out of his crease to make himself bigger. But Jack’s still got his guy. A quick passing play and Jack re-receives the puck, psyching out the goalie just enough to find some space and sneak the puck in backdoor. Score.
Jack blacks out. Completely unsure what to do with himself, he starts frantically skating around the rim of the rink, arms up in the air as his teammates mob him against the glass. He’s fully screaming. He can feel the whole arena rumbling around him going absolutely nuts. Jack swears he’s never been happier than in this moment. They’ve won the game 4-3.
----
He’s out of press as quickly as possible. It’s not very extensive for D1 hockey players but there were still a few questions for the game winning goal scorer. Jack is still pumped full of adrenaline, hands practically shaking he’s so hyped up. He can think of only one person he wants to see right now, elevated testosterone sending his brain into a primal state.
“I’m coming over.” He texts. He’s never been so forward before, but his dumb boy brain can only think about one thing. For a split second Jack considers sending a follow up to ease the pushiness but he decides against it, shoving his phone in his dress pants pocket and making haste toward your apartment. 
He knocks at the door shifting impatiently, annoyed by an incessant itch he knows only you can scratch. You pull open the door and are suddenly standing in front of him; Michigan hoodie covering your frame and smooth legs exposed by a pair of sweatshorts. You seem a little shy unlike usual but still smile at Jack. Damn, has she always been this pretty? His lust works to heighten his senses.
Jack is swift, grabbing you and pulling you up around his waist. His hands fall greedily to your ass supporting you but also trying to relieve some of the tension in him by copping a feel. You’re feverish when you bring his lips to yours for a fiery kiss. There’s nothing innocent about it. His feet begin to move you both subconsciously toward your room as you make out with a fervor. The smell of your perfume swirls around him and fills his nose, fueling his lustful delirium further. You’re putty in his hands, arching generously into him, gasping wantonly for his kiss. Jack kisses you again and again even after breaking away until you can’t take anymore of the Dyonisian exchange. 
“Please--” Your plea is clipped and breathy. You’re not even sure if at first you know exactly what you’re asking for. But Jack hears you. He feels the way your body is screaming, vibrating electrically at his display. It strokes his ego in just the way his caveman mind needed.
“Yeah? You need me baby? Saw me score and now you need me to fuck you?” Jack’s almost taunting, his voice a few steps lower than usual. You feel no shame in giving into his provocation. You nod hastily, begging with your eyes rather than your words. Jack smirks, setting you on the floor of your room before backing himself toward the bed. He sits down, hands going behind him so he can lean back on his arms. He looks so cocky but still so sexy. Jack raises his eyebrows looking you over from where you stand stiffly before him.
“Well? On your knees baby, show me you deserve to be fucked.” He spits, making no move to do any of the work. You stumble forward, dropping to the floor in front of him and reaching greedily for his belt buckle. “There’s my good girl. Gonna let me fuck your throat sweetheart?” It’s condescending but it makes your stomach flutter. You love when he’s dominant. You wrestle his belt buckle open, beginning to tug on his dress pants. When you look up at him with doe eyes, pleading for him to do as he pleases with you, you see his smug smile. 
“Yeah ‘course you are. Always such a slut for me.” 
It all gets a little blurry after that first shot. Suddenly, he doesn’t remember a damn thing. Until Jack sees you. 
---
Y/N POV
You think it’s part of your dream at first, the incessant buzzing. But it’s coming from a flower in the garden and that doesn’t seem quite right… it’s still another fews rings before you fully flutter your eyes open. Still in a daze from sleep inertia, you reach blindly for your phone, holding it to what you think is your ear, and answering the call.
“H-hello?” You croak out, coughing almost immediately. The response on the other line is slow and you nearly fall back asleep in the second it takes them to speak.
“Hi umm sorry is-- is this Y/N?” Even in your haze you know that it’s weird that someone who’s calling you at the ass crack of morning isn’t sure of the name of the person they’re calling. It’s then you manage to sit up and pull your phone away from your ear to look at the caller ID. ‘Jacky Hughes.’ You’re even more confused now, because that voice certainly isn’t Jack and how the fuck does someone have his phone and why the fuck are they calling you?
“Uhhhhh yeah but who are you? Why do you have Jack’s phone?” You ask. The response is quicker this time.
“Shit sorry-- fuck this is John I’m buddies with Jack. Ummm we’re at the hockey house right now having a party but Jack is wasted and he just-- he kept asking for Y/N. ‘Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, where is she? I miss her. I miss my girl. Why isn’t she here?’ Really sappy shit and I mean none of the boys knew he had a girl so we’re like ‘Jack what the fuck are you saying man’ and he won’t explain he just keeps going on and on blah blah about Y/N. So we grab his phone right, and go through his contacts and look for a ‘Y/N’ and ta da, you’re the only one in there so we figured it had to be you he was talking about. Anyway, can you come get him? He's, like, totally plastered right now.”
‘John’ as he calls himself, is “like totally plastered right now” also, based on that rambly explanation. But really you don’t need any more convincing to drop what you’re doing (more like weren’t doing) and go to pick up a drunk Jack. 
“Yeah… yeah I’ll come now just uhh drop me a pin or something.” You barely wait for John to answer before ending the call to slip on some shoes, a hoodie, and grab your keys. As you lock your door on the way out, a text comes in with a location just like you asked for. 
You’d never been to the hockey house before but fuck it wasn’t hard to miss at this hour. Pretty multi color lights can be seen changing color inside and while the noise wasn’t atrocious it was certainly obvious. You risk it with double parking despite your nagging anxiety as it’s 3am and you don’t have time to find legal parking. You begin to tread up toward the porch but don’t have to go too far before your night vision fixes on a scene that makes you smile. 
Jack is sitting on the grass with his back against a tree mumbling incoherently, from the distance you’re at. There’s a few boys with him: some on the grass as well, one swinging on an epic rope swing tied from the tree and another just standing with his arms crossed. As you get closer you can make out Jack’s pouty face and loose limbs. The boy standing looks rather paternal as he monitors your toddler of a boyf-- erm.. friend. Thankfully, you don’t have to announce your presence as said paternal man notices you walking up.
“Hey are you uh-- Y/N was it?” He calls out. You nod but before you can speak Jack opens his big mouth just as you come to a stop in front of the group. 
“Aww Y/N she’s so pretty y’know-- wait you said she was coming, where is she Nico?” You look to see if Jack’s just suddenly lost all competency but notice that his eyes are closed. Your fond smile is involuntary. By now the rest of the belligerent boys have noticed your presence and are prodding at Jack saying ‘bro she is here’ ‘you’re so stupid Hughes’ and ‘oh my god dude.’
“Shhhh my head hurts be quiet you dumb fucks.” Jack chastises through a rather endearing hiccup. You move directly in front of Jack now, sinking into a squat to be almost eye level with him. Well you would be if he’d open his fucking eyes.
“Hey Jacky…” You call gently, placing your hand over his knee. He shifts only slightly.
“Only Y/N calls me that.” Jack whines, a lilt of sadness to his voice. Some of the boys have started laughing, egging him on while Nico just swears under his breath. Jack’s childishness makes you giggle. 
“Open your eyes dumbass.” You add now, squeezing his knee and giggling still. Jack furrows his brow and shakes his head side to side.
“Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can still hear her voice.” You’re fully laughing now, heart bursting with affection for this drunken fool. The Greek chorus opens their big mouths some more, fully ragging on Jack now: ‘Are you fucking serious bro’ and ‘Hughesy you idiot.’ 
The wheels seem to start turning, granted at a glacial pace, from all the berating. Jack shakes his head and you pat his leg encouragingly, his pretty eyes finally opening. When your eyes meet, he gasps comically loud and breaks into a beaming grin. It makes you feel even weaker for him.
“Oh my god, Y/N!!” He lifts an arm and starts flinging his hand about trying to find your face, to touch part of your body. You think he wants to hold your cheek but you’d rather he didn’t slap you in the face in the process. Gently you pick up his hand and rest your face against it.
“Hi stud.” You murmur at him, and even though he’s so inebriated that he doesn’t have control of his limbs, his thumb somehow begins to stroke your cheek. His head lulls to the side like a love sick puppy and he marvels at you with his starry gaze. He fish mouths for a moment before finding his words. 
“Is this a dream? Y’know I’m spinning so fucking bad right now I can see about three Y/N’s and that honestly sounds like fucking heaven to me. Must be a dream…” Jack mutters, almost to himself.
“Sorry to disappoint but I’m as real as that econ test you have on Monday Jacky. Glad to see you’re spending your weekend wisely.” The boys around you can’t help but chuckle at your rather mom-ish chirp. A few ‘gottems’ can be heard. Despite the roasting, it appears that Jack couldn’t care less. A delighted gasp leaves his lips and a sunshine-y smile rises on his lips. 
“Oh my god it IS you! I told Nico I wanted you to come get me and here you are! Will you take me home? Home to your’s? John’s being mean and Dawson isn’t as pretty as you.” He pouts as he says all this, making your heart clench. Home, he said. Your place. You’re already nodding without realizing. And if you lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek, it’s involuntary too.
“Yeah hun let’s go. I’ve got Welch’s in the car and a Ziploc bag with your name on it.” Your fingers run through his hair to soothe him just how you’ve learned to when he’s sober. You think he makes a move to stand and get his feet under himself but that battle is short lived. His ass stays firmly planted on the ground. 
“Geez Hughes here let’s go buddy. We got ya… yup there we go.” His friends are quick to claim limbs and hoist the 180 pound gentle giant off the dirt. You thank them and point out your car. Jack’s head lulls backwards so that he can still look at you even while he’s being carted off to your vehicle. The giddy smile doesn’t seem to leave his face.
“What are you guys?” The abruptness catches you off guard and shatters your daydreaming. You turn to find Nico, the most sober of the group and the ringleader it seems.
“Huh? Oh umm-- we… we hook up I guess. Yea…” You stutter badly but this is your first time talking about your situation with Jack out loud. It’ll have to do.
“Hook up... like... repeatedly? No, sorry, I mean like, he comes back to you or-- fuck I’m tryna say like he-- he doesn’t-- you’re not a fuck and chuck?” You’re at least grateful Nico is lacking some eloquence as well right now. Still, you’re unsure how to go on. You laugh awkwardly.
“No-- or wait I mean yeah? We’ve uhh yeah been hooking up for a couple months or three I think now. I was asked to tutor him in econ at the start of the semester.” Nico looks shocked but you watch as his face morphs in accordance with the wheels turning up top. He smiles all of a sudden.
“Well fuck me. He said he had a pretty study buddy so I guess that’s why he’s been so MIA. Probably should’ve put that one together sooner.” Nico laughs at his blatant idiocy. You smile and shrug not really knowing what to say. He hasn’t really said anything that you can respond to.
“He doesn’t even eat when he gets back most of the time. If he gets back at all obviously.” You blush at the implication as he continues to glue the pieces together in his head.
“Yeah we usually cook together or order something.” Your admittance is bashful. You kick some rocks with your shoes as you continue walking behind the carrying party toward your car.
“Wow. I’m shocked really. I mean I’ve never seen him or heard of him spending this much time with a girl before. You must be special.” 
You must be special. 
It’s what you’ve been wanting to hear for months now, just from the wrong person. 
“Y/NNNNN!” Jack whines from the passenger's seat of your car where he’s been deposited haphazardly, albeit in one piece. You roll your eyes affectionately, walking around towards him. 
“Thanks boys. ‘Preciate it.” You smile at the group, shifting your weight awkwardly between both feet. John breaks the silence.
“Tell him to bring you around sometime. We wanna meet you for real. Seems like he really likes you.” 
Seems like he really likes you. 
“Sure thing. Thanks again.” You smile and offer a small laugh and wave. Quickly you look down to your boy-- no, Jack, and see him staring at you. 
“I told them that.” He mumbles drowsily. 
“Told ‘em what bub?” You ask leaning over him to buckle his seatbelt and push all arms and legs inside the vehicle. 
“That I really like you.” 
I really like you. 
You pause for a moment, looking him over warily, heart fluttering. He’s smiling at you just as genuinely as he normally would when sober. It’s calming for the moment and inclines you to believe him even in his drunken state. Despite how desperately you want him to sober up so you can hear the real truth, your nervous stomach accepts his admittance for the time being. You smile back at him and bend to kiss him on the lips. It’s just a peck but satiates the boy fully. He giggles gleefully when you pull away and meet his eyes again. 
“Alright Jacky hun, let’s get you home.”
------
After waking up at 2 in the morning to collect a 5'11” drunken idiot, you’d think he’d have the decency to let you sleep in. Wishful thinking apparently. 
“Y/N… Y/N! Wake up please!” Though Jack’s being gentle he’s still shaking you awake, a rather jarring way to come around. You groan loudly, letting him know how exasperated you’re feeling. Your hands reach blindly to push him away from you. Jack’s even more stubborn than you are though. “Please baby, I needa talk to you.” He’s gentler this time, leaning down to kiss your neck and rub at your side. The coaxing works wonders in getting you to peak an eye open. 
Jack looks adorable really. Soft hair flopping into his face and some dark blue bags under his eyes. He’s wearing a soft smile and the look in his eyes is one of adoration. It almost melts away your annoyance. Almost. 
“Jacky, what do you want? Are you still drunk? Why the fuck did you wake me up?” You whine. He just continues to look at you gently. He bends to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“Hi gorgeous, I’m sorry. I-- I had to wake you up because well I blacked out last night which you obviously saw, but I woke up from my blackout when you were sitting in front of me smiling and telling me I was an idiot for not studying for our econ test. And I couldn’t wait another hour or more for you to wake up. I needed to tell you now that-- that I remember what I said and it was true. I like you, I really do. I’m so fucking into you it’s a little stupid and I’m tired of all this in between bullshit. I’ve wanted to be with you from like the second week we studied together and I don’t just wanna have sex anymore-- I mean don’t get me wrong it’s great and I would very much like to continue having sex with you but umm what I mean is I wanna introduce you to my friends and brag about you to them. About how my girl is so smart and funny and sexy and that she makes me laugh and fuck I’d ditch boys night for you because I like you that much. You make me feel so happy and safe. I love being around you no matter what we’re doing and I want you to be around me all the time. And I think I know that I’m not one sided in feeling this because I don’t think anyone could endure the pain of being so close to a couple but not actually being official unless they would give up the world for that person and well…  I would, I would give up the world for you and I hope that-- okay well that’s a lot to ask that you’d give up the world for me back but I hope that you at least like me too. Please tell me you do cause I’m so into you babe and I want it all with you. Late nights and early mornings… the fights and the love… the future. I’m not scared of losing you from saying how I feel because I’ve been yours for months now, so what’d you say? Be mine?” 
It’s almost too much all at once. You’re so tired and delirious and here’s this soft looking boy holding you in bed under the sheets, fingers dancing along your waist while he stares into your eyes and bares his soul to you. He had you at ‘I like you’ because it’s all you’ve been wanting to hear for months. Everything else was just sweet fluff that you more than loved but didn’t even need to hear make your decision. He says he’s been yours for months now but what he doesn’t realize is you’ve been his for just as long. And yeah, you’d give up the world for him too. All there’s left to say is yes.
You giggle at him pulling him down for a soft kiss. It’s a vessel for your emotion. An outpouring of love and devotion. You want him to feel that your actions mirror his words.
“Of course, Jack. I’m yours if you’re mine.” He beams down at you, smiling so wholly you think his face might get permanently stuck like that. He buries his face in your neck kissing you there. 
“Thank god.” He sighs. “I know I sounded all confident but I was still kinda shitting it that I might’ve had it all wrong there.”
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wwinterwitch · 1 year
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questions — joel miller x fem!reader
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summary: after a night at the bar, joel walks you home and you finally confess what has been on your mind since the night everything fell apart pairing: joel miller x fem!reader word count: 3.9k warnings and tags: doesn't really follow canon but sill minor spoilers for ep. 6 i guess?, angst with a good ending, alcohol consumption, reader is drunk, joel being joel, miscommunication, sharing feelings go wrong, i'm not used to write angsty fics i'm sorry if this sucks author's note: omg omg happy finale day!! i wrote this listening to question...? by taylor swift so that's what inspired this concept, also this was supposed to be a tiny little blurb idk how we got to almost 4k words but okay i guess
a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!
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Before tonight you were fine.
You barely even thought about him in that way. You barely remember the way his skin feels against yours, or the way a simple kiss from him would leave you begging for more. It was like all those nights you two would stay up talking about whatever, his arms around you and your back pressed against his chest, never existed.
Training your heart not to long for him and your brain to keep him out of your thoughts was no easy job at first. It was almost impossible for your body not to want him close. Not being able to talk to him about whatever was on your mind and knowing he no longer will reach out to share even his most profound secrets was absolute torture. Walking next to him all day without being able to reach out for his hand or stop for a quick second just to hold him close to you was a living nightmare that you couldn't wake up from.
Because how could he be so easy to forget? Joel Miller. The first and only person you've fallen in love with. That special someone that opened up a door to a whole new world that you never realized you were dying to discover until he was standing in front of you, his extended hand being an open invitation to walk all these unfamiliar roads and witness the beauty of it all together.
It was new and scary and beautiful. You were addicted to loving him before you even realized exactly what it was. From the moment you were able to put a name to this new feeling he taught you, you vowed to be his for as long as he'll have you- but what a shame it was to realize that the ending to a seemingly long story was already written at the very back of the page.
Perhaps your love blinded you enough to believe he had fallen just as hard, only to realize he was still standing at the edge of the precipice, staring down as you fell into the darkness of the abyss. Perhaps it's the fact that death is all around that makes it impossible for anything to be born. Why would you be able to live a fairytale in the middle of a horror show? What could possibly make you so special?
At least he doesn't seem to be affected by the fact that you two drifted apart. It's not like he's the best at sharing his feelings to other people, his ever-frowning gaze always present in his face no matter the circumstance, but you were still hoping that maybe he cared enough to show you he's hurting even just a little bit.
That should be comforting, right? To know he's perfectly fine and that you never cross his mind in that way. He doesn't have the need to apologize or make it right. He doesn't regret what happened and it never plays back in his head as he curses at himself for not doing things differently. You and your...relationship? are that easy to forget.
No. It's not comforting at all. If anything, it makes everything worse.
You can still remember the night you told him you loved him. A moment in your painfully short history together that you wish you could erase. A disappointing ending to what could've been an absolute masterpiece.
Ellie was already asleep and the two of you were keeping watch. He insisted you should get some sleep but you wanted to stay with him. He wasn't a fan of showing you any type of affection since Ellie joined the two of you, so the nights are the only chance you have to be closer. It was like the moon and stars were your best of friends at that point, because they meant he could finally be yours.
The confession slipped from your lips in a quiet whisper. A simple and timid "I think I'm falling in love with you" was all you offered. It's not hard to remember the way your hands would slightly tremble, or the rapid beating of your heart. It's as unforgettable as the confidence you were feeling because despite being so nervous, you were certain that he'll say it back.
He never did. He didn't say it back that night, or the morning after, or any other morning that followed.
It was embarrassing to look back on it now that you know what happened next. You were snuggled up next to him, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders. His eyes were fixated on the fireplace that helped to make the chilling air of the night a little more tolerable.
Staring at his handsome complexion without his permission was probably one of your favorite things to do. He had confided in you a couple of times that he couldn't understand why you enjoy it so much. That he's not this breathtaking sight that deserves to be contemplated in the way you do.
Truth is, he's the most hypnotizing sight of all. You didn't care about the roughness of his features or the years visible in the corner of his eyes, hair and beard. He's gorgeous and unique and yours. You could stare at him for hours and never get tired of it.
Like many times before, he caught you staring at him. And just like those times before, he made a gesture that should tell you he disliked that habit of yours, only to be betrayed by the smirk timidly forming on his lips not so long after.
It was then, with his eyes staring back at yours, that the verbal proclamation of your love for him invaded the quietness of the night.
And that's when his smirk magically disappeared. His eyes became dark with something you couldn't quite decipher at the time, still staring back at you but not really. It was clear he wasn't there with you anymore, too lost in his own thoughts to truly acknowledge your presence anymore.
Before you could even think of saying something else, he surprised you with an almost robotic "I think you should get some sleep".
Feeling more heartbroken and confused than ever, you did exactly that. You got up and joined Ellie, cuddling up in your sleeping bag with your back facing him. It's still a mystery to you how you were able to cry yourself to sleep that night without making a sound. How you were able to control the hurricane of emotions after telling the love of your life how you feel and him not caring about it in the slightest.
And suddenly, being in love was still new and scary but it had turned into something horrible.
You had to spend every second of every day with him after that, pretending nothing ever happened. He never brought it up either, so you decided to ignore it to avoid making a fool of yourself again. His reaction was enough to let you know he never really loved you, so you ran with it and tried to continue knowing whatever you two had or could have was no more.
But it was still difficult at times. Ellie kept asking you questions regarding you and Joel even weeks after the incident. She's not stupid. She could see you two weren't exactly friends, no matter how hard Joel tried to convince her otherwise. She's also not someone who settles for made up excuses or half truths, which made her push the subject until she got a good enough answer. That's why she continued coming to you for answers, because she knew he'll never talk about it.
It was only when you explicitly confirmed you two weren't just friends before quickly telling her it was completely over that she eventually let it be. After that, she also started to pretend nothing happened.
Jackson became pretty much the light at the end of a pitch back tunnel you thought was never-ending. You were excited to meet new people and have new things to do during the day, knowing it'll help to keep you busy, forcing Joel out of your head.
It was so exciting in fact, that it helped to make it seem as if the quick "she's the one I've been traveling with" that Joel used to introduce you to his brother wasn't that terrible.
Tommy, who much to your luck was nothing like his big brother, made sure to show you around and introduce you to a few people. He got you a house so you and Ellie could settle in and helped you find a job at the local library, officially starting your new life that didn't revolve around Joel.
In time, you found your place in the commune (as you and Ellie love to call it to tease Tommy). Joel was slowly becoming just a bad chapter in a much bigger story that you started to write for yourself, and you're loving the new plot that's unfolding across the blank pages.
However, all of that progress came crashing down tonight. Tommy's birthday was being celebrated at the local bar and there was no way you would ever miss it. Not only has he become a very good friend, but you also needed the distraction.
The familiar faces, the food and drinks made you forget about Joel's presence for most of the night and you barely made the effort to acknowledge his presence. Without being able to prevent it, your eyes accidentally met for a few seconds. It was almost sickening that everything about that half-a-second-look was so much like a movie. You were laughing at something a friend had said before you finished your third drink of the night, casually scanning the room to catch Joel already looking your way.
He smiled and you barely smiled back before focusing on the conversation with your friends again as if nothing happened. The alcohol might have motivated you enough to just not care anymore. To show him you really couldn't care any less to try to be nice after he was such an asshole when you were completely vulnerable before him.
The idea of not caring seemed tempting. Thinking the alcohol was helping, you continued drinking until you forgot about pretty much everything- which didn't take that long considering your alcohol resistance wasn't that good after a long time without drinking. You don't care about Joel, or the hours passing by, or the fact that you're probably making a complete fool of yourself giggling and dancing with a few friends that are probably as drunk as you are, if not more.
All the hype from being intoxicated started to wear off after a while, becoming more and more sleepy until you were practically dragging your feet towards the exit, putting on your coat and hat to prepare for the cold night outside.
"Looks like you had a good time," you hear Tommy comment in a mocking tone, sending a sympathetic smile your way.
"I did! Thanks for inviting me. And happy birthday to you again!" you exclaim cheerfully. "I hope I didn't make a fool of myself tonight."
"Oh, you definitely did," he mocked, chuckling lightly. "But hey, those dance moves you were pulling off back there? Best birthday gift I'll ever receive."
You looked positively embarrassed after his comment, but managed to laugh it off. "I guess that's good."
"It is," he immediately reassures you. "Let's get you home now, okay?"
"Oh, you don't have to go with me. You can't leave your own birthday party. It's okay, I got it."
"I want to make sure you get home safe. It's fine."
"Tommy, please. You should stay and have fun."
"I won't have fun if I'm worrying about you all night."
"I can take her," you suddenly hear Joel's voice behind you, which immediately made you roll your eyes because you really didn't want him around. He noticed the gesture but didn't seem to care about it in the slightest, putting on his jacket. "I was heading out anyway."
Tommy couldn't have known you really didn't want to be around his older brother, completely unaware of your history with him. Perhaps if you told him, he'll insist on going with you or find someone else that could walk you home. But you never told him what happened, so you're stuck with Joel. "Okay, great. I'll see you guys tomorrow. Thank you for coming," he says, allowing the two of you to leave.
The first few minutes outside in the snow have got to be the most awkward minutes of your entire life.
You tried not to stumble despite still being a bit drunk, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of him. You're mad that he's here with you and you can't stand being alone with him.
"Did you have fun tonight?"
Oh, and of course he had to open his mouth. Because when has Joel ever done what you want him to do? It seems like he'll always do exactly the opposite of what you expect from him.
"Yes," was all you said.
"Just yes?" he tried again.
"Yes."
You heard him sigh. "So, no talking?"
"I'd really like that, actually."
The tone of your voice would've been enough to make him shut up for the entire walk. Even he seemed to be a little taken aback by the honesty of your answer because you could feel him staring at you for longer than usual before he focused on his boots as they left marks on the snow.
He didn't ask what was wrong because deep down he must've known. He can't not know. And in that drunken state you allowed yourself to be pity as you wished that he thinks about it every single day. That it tortures him. That he despises himself for breaking your heart and not doing something to make it right. That he looks back on it and hopes that he could go back.
But does he? Does he actually think about it every single day? Does he regret what happened? And if he does, why is he not trying to say he's sorry? Does he even want to say something at all?
It was almost as if the alcohol betrayed you. Or maybe it was your head that just allowed every barrier you have built these past few weeks to crumble down. Not caring turned into caring way too much and it was like you couldn't stop thinking about a hundred questions without being able to find a single answer to any of them.
Joel turns to look at you once again when he notices you stopped walking. Your head is spinning as more and more questions fill up your mind and you get frustrated because you know there's only one person who has all the answers.
Should you say something? Should you make a fool of yourself once again? It shouldn't be you. Why is he not doing something? How come you're the one who has to speak up about this? It's not fair.
But it was late, cold and you were just so drunk. And you know that no matter how much you try to move on, you'll never be truly okay until you hear an explanation as to why he broke your heart in such a vicious way. Even if he lies or tries to sugarcoat it, you deserve even the tiniest of explanations.
"Is everything okay?" he eventually asks, which only frustrates you more.
"Do you ever think about that night?" you let out almost immediately after, feeling the way your heart was beating faster than ever. As fast as the time you confessed your love for him.
He was quiet, so you decided to continue. "Do you ever wish you could go back and change the way it ended? Does...does it ever cross your mind or you seriously don't care?"
After those questions, Joel seemed to finally react. "Are we seriously doing this now?"
"If not now, when? You were clearly not going to say anything," you accused him, leaving him completely defenseless because he was very much avoiding ever bringing this up and you just called him out on it. "I just need to know why, Joel."
"I don't- let's get you home, okay?"
"Stop doing that! Stop trying to avoid this!" you exclaimed with obvious exasperation, feeling the corner of your eyes burning due to the tears that would surely roll down your cheeks at any point. "I was in love with you and you weren't decent enough to at least tell me you didn't feel the same way! Don't you think I deserved at least that?"
"We can talk about this tomorrow..."
"No, fuck that. I waited long enough," you quickly interrupted. "I was so patient with you. I gave you your space when you said you weren't sure about us, I respected your decision of being discreet in front of Ellie, I stood up for you countless of times when I shouldn't have. I did so much for you and you can't even look me in the eye and give me an explanation!"
"It's not-"
"You've got to be the biggest asshole I've ever met. And you know what's the worst part of this? That I'm still expecting shit from you. I still hope that you'll say you're sorry for breaking my heart and acting like you never did something wrong. I'm so fucking stupid to believe that you actually-"
"I was afraid!" he practically shouted, hoping that would stop your rambling. It seemed to work, because you were silent as soon as he said that. "There. Are you happy?"
"Don't put this on me," you immediately snap back.
Joel sighs yet again and takes a second to calm down, knowing that if he gets defensive this will end much worse. It's time to accept he fucked up and stop trying to act like he didn't.
"I'm sorry," he finally said. "For this and for what I said that night. I should've been honest with you."
Now it was you the one who was silent, taken aback by his reaction. Usually, he'll try to come on top by creating any type of argument until he's able to get the last word. An actual apology was definitely not something you were expecting.
"I don't like people. I keep my distance and everyone else stay away from me in return. I like distance," he explains. "But then you came along and it was impossible to stay away. No matter how hard I tried, I'd always come back to you. I started to need you and it was scary because I should be keeping my distance."
Silence. Absolute silence. You were surprised to hear him being so honest with you, but you were also feeling a bit nostalgic because deep down you missed being the person Joel would go to when he needed someone to talk to. Even when it was difficult for him to open up, he always tried his best to rely on you whenever he needed it. Needless to say, it made you feel very special.
"When you said you loved me I didn't know what to do. It felt so...definitive. Because I knew that deep down I was falling for you too and if I said something that'd mean I'd never be able to let you go. And it was so scary to think of giving in to that feeling because...because I couldn't allow myself to care again."
You knew exactly what he meant by that. His daughter is not a topic he particularly enjoys bringing up, but you've heard a few things about her. And honestly, you couldn't really blame him for being scared. Despite all these years, losing his kid in the way he did has got to be the worst pain he'll ever experience. Of course he'll want to run away in the opposite direction when he starts seeing the similarities.
It doesn't excuse the fact that he avoided you, but you would never pretend like his feelings weren't valid.
He was scared of loving you because with love comes the inevitable attachment to that person forever. You care so deeply, the mere idea of ever losing that person shatters your world completely. And he knows what that loss feels like. He couldn't experience that again.
"Besides, you know me. You know I'm a mess. I couldn't let you ruin your life by loving me, because I'd just let you down- which I did, so I was right. So instead of saying something, I just said what I thought would help to make you not love me anymore. If I couldn't keep my distance, I had to do something so you'll want to stay away from me."
Once again, Joel was doing exactly the opposite of what you expected. He poured his heart out to you, sounding so honest and vulnerable. You've only heard him being this sincere whenever he would mention Sarah or that one time when you both stayed up talking in depth about your relationship with Ellie.
Tears started to roll down your cheeks as predicted as you stared at him. You don't know whether to hug him or punch him at this point.
"You're such an asshole," was all you could say.
The comment made him chuckle, but it was evident he was holding back his own tears. "I know."
"But that's exactly why I loved you. I know what you've been through, I knew you were a challenge and I was willing to work on it for as long as it would take us. The decision of whether I wanted to love you or not was never yours to make."
"I was trying to save you from having to deal with me."
"What if I didn't want to be saved?"
"Well, I think it's already too late for that," he replied. There was another pause that encouraged him to ask, "Is it? Too late?"
"I don't know," you replied. It was the truth.
"I can work with I don't know."
"What does that mean?" you asked curiously, wiping your tears away.
"It means I'm willing to make it right this time," he replied. "If you let me."
You frowned just a little, failing to hold back the smile that appeared on your face just seconds later. "You know you'll have to really try if you want to fix this, right?"
"I know. It's okay. You're worth it."
So far, so good, you thought.
"This means no more hiding, no more trying to push me away, talking about your feelings..."
"I can handle it."
"Can you?" you asked in a much more serious tone. It sucked not being able to fully trust his word, but you both know you had your reasons not to. "I just don't want to get my hopes up again over nothing."
You watched as Joel took a step closer to you, reaching out to grab one of your hands. He examines your face, making sure you're okay with him touching you before he brings it up to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. "I promise you this time will be different," he says, and he's looking at you with so much affection, it's impossible not to trust him.
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shellshocklove · 10 months
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blurb: i want to forget | tom holland
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pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader
summary: your last encounter with the King has left you in quite the pickle.
warnings: swearing, mentions of vomiting, abortion, blood
word count: 3.5k
a/n: this is the last post-epilogue blurb. this is their ending. it makes me really happy that people have enjoyed this story so much. like beyond happy:( i’m still open to do blurbs pre-epilogue for them, but i’ll only do them if i get a request. if not this will be the last thing i write for them. also full disclosure: i’m not british, which means idk if this is accurate portrayal of a british school. so, if it’s not, then please excuse that lmao
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You’re so fucking stupid.
So incredibly stupid.
A cold crept up your back as you leaned against the tiled wall of your bathroom. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to stave off the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.
You shouldn’t have gone to the reunion. But when The Vice-Chancellor of your old university calls you personally, basically begging you to attend – what were you supposed to do? And you definitely shouldn’t have drunk so much wine, but the servers kept pouring it, and every time you’d looked at Tom, he’d looked a little rosier.
You missed him. Missed him every day. The painful look on his face as you’d left the palace, right after he became king, haunted you every day. You hated being the one to hurt him. But he hurt you, too.
Why did he have to want to see you? Make someone else beg you to be there. And why did you say yes? Why did you need to see him just as badly?
“Soo,” Tom had started, digging into his scallop entrée, “how’s life?”.
You’d giggled in response, sending him a ‘Are you serious right now?’ look, before taking a bite of your own entrée.
“What?” he’d faked innocence, “I’m only making conversation– can’t I do that?” he’d shrugged.
You’d giggled again, “No, you can”. You took another bite, buying yourself some time before you’d answered, “Life’s good, I guess? No complaints at this point in time”. Except the constant longing for someone you can’t have.
“At this point in time? So… there was a time where you had complaints?” he’d queried, with a worried kink in his eyebrow.
“Don’t we all have difficult periods in our life?” you’d mused, trying to keep your face from revealing too much. He didn’t need to know how heartbroken you’d been after his wedding. He’d moved on… and so should you.
“Yeah…” he’d agreed, eyes drilling into his plate, “we do”.
You’d felt your body fall at his tone. He’d given you a rare peek into his psyche. A look into a beaten king.
“What about you?” you’d asked softly, “You doing okay?”. You’d wanted to reach out and touch him, comfort him, but you didn’t.
A weak smile spread across his face before he’d nodded, “Yeah… I’m fine” he’d said unconvincingly. Then he’d cleared his throat changing the topic before the conversation got too personal,
“Are you still working at that primary school?”.
“No,” you’d shook your head, “I teach sixth form now– history A-levels”.
“Really?” he’d perked up, a smile ghosting over his face.
“Yeah,” you’d chuckled, “shaping the future or whatever”.
“Good for you, darling!” he’d smiled with moony eyes, “Do you like it?”.
“I actually do– teenagers can be…” you’d given him a look which made him laugh, “but the pay is better, and maybe it’s silly, but I really feel like I’m making a difference!”.
“It’s not silly– you’re not silly” he’d reassured you.
You’d felt your heart swell in your chest and grow two sizes. He had to stop doing that to you. You shouldn’t be pining for a married man.
“Well…” you’d started, tongue kissing your teeth, “We can’t all be kings and run multiple charities” you’d shrugged, teasing.
Your words made him giggle, before he’d shot you a teasing side eye.
You hated how easy you’d gotten swept up in conversation with Tom. How easy it was to forget everything around you. The world blurring at the edges like a vignette, as Tom took centrefold in your life again.
It had felt like it did all those years ago. An ease between you, one you’ve never felt with anyone else. He pulled away all your restraints – and you let him. How could you not? When his touch felt like buzzing electricity against your skin. And his kiss burned your lips with longing. Everything felt right with him. Every worry, and all guilt went quiet.
And you hated yourself for it. It was eating away at you. Growing inside of you alongside something else.
Two lines. Pregnant.
You couldn’t even look at the test. It only made you want to cry. You were pregnant with the King of England’s baby. How could you be so stupid?
You couldn’t stop the scenarios from flashing behind your eyes. Tom standing over a crib, a loving smile on his face as he watched over your sleeping baby. Or Tom with his hands reaching out to your toddler taking their first wobbling steps towards him. Birthday parties and first days of school. Holidays and road trips. Fights, and first loves and first heartbreaks. Growing your family and growing old together.
Wrapping your hands around your stomach you allowed a sob to escape you, echoing against the tiles.
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“Love? You feeling okay? You look a little green” Mr. Khan asked you as he plopped down beside you in the corner sofa of the teacher’s lounge.
“I feel a little green” you admitted and sunk deeper into the pillows.
Morning sickness, you’d realised, had been wrongly named. It should’ve just been called sickness because that’s how you felt all the time. Sick. Morning, day, and night.
If your calculations were right, you were only about two months along. To have it confirmed, you had a doctor’s appointment later, after your last class of the day. You didn’t look forward to it. You obviously needed an abortion, sooner rather than later, but it was an awfully hard decision to make.
Maybe it serves you right to suffer. This was the consequences of your actions. Of being the other woman.
In a way, you wanted and didn’t want Tom to know. He should know about his baby, his child – it’s only right he knows. But… how would he react? Would he be happy? Sad? Angry? Would he blame you for being irresponsible? Would he blame himself? Your head and heart hurt thinking about it. But the choice was taken from you, and from him. You had no way of contacting him. No phone number, no email, nothing.
“Want me to get you anything?” Rhys asked, rubbing a friendly hand on your shoulder, “I could get you a Coke from the machine?”.
“That would be great– thank you Rhys!” you smiled weakly.
Mr. Rhys Khan, maths teacher, and probably your best friend at work (or maybe just your only friend. You didn’t go out much). He was only two years older than you, which made him easy for you to gravitate too when you’d started working here a year ago. The rest of the staff was pushing fifty, and sometimes it was nice to speak to someone who wasn’t a moody teenager, or a middle-aged man educating you on proper lawn maintenance. You didn’t even own a house. Only renting a shitty flat, in what would probably be classified as a not so good neighbourhood. Rhys was a welcomed sight, and it didn’t hurt that he was funny, and kind, and… good looking.
“Here you go M'lady” he cracked open the can for you, “One of our finest Cokes straight from our cellar”.
You didn’t think you had it in you to laugh in your state, but you did. He handed you the can and sat down beside you again. He watched you as you took a small sip.
“Better?��� he asked, one eyebrow raised.
“After one sip?”
“Yeah! I cast a spell over it on my way back– it’s supposed to make you feel better in an instant” he said.
“Thank you, Rhys!” you gave him a meek, but grateful smile before taking another sip. His hand came down to rub at your shoulder again.
“Are you sure you’re okay though? As beautiful as you are, you really don’t look well” he said, concern coating his words.
You didn’t have time to answer – your words cut off by the headmaster, Mr. White, entering the teacher’s lounge with a booming voice.
“Thank you all for coming to this lunch meeting!” he clapped his hands, making sure to get everybody’s attention. “I’m gonna keep it short and sweet, ok guys!? I know we all have lunches to eat, and emails to reply to, and classes to prepare.”.
This man was too enthusiastic for his own good.
“I have an announcement!” he said solemnly. Pressing his lips together you didn’t know if he wanted to create suspense – he didn’t – or if he was psyching himself up to deliver bad news.
“I’ve called this meeting to inform you all that next week we’ll be visited by the King and Queen!”
The news sunk like a stone in water. You were gonna be sick. Nervously you shifted forward in your seat. A hand wrapping around your waist, as the other held your Coke can in a shaky grip.
“They’re here with their charity– who we all know contributes funds to our school. There will be press, and the royal couple wants to visit every class– so let’s all make sure that we’ve prepared our pupils for the visit, before then. I will be sending out an email with more information, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions! That was it guys! Let’s get back to our lunch!”.
You flinched as Mr. White clapped his hands again – signalling all his staff to get back to work. Rhys rubbed your back soothingly. Unaware of your panicked heart.
You were definitely going to be sick.
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“Good morning, everybody!” your voice cut through the steady hum of conversation filling the classroom.
You got a few ‘good morning’s back from your pupils, which you honestly looked at as a win. Some days you didn’t even get a ‘hello’. But it was early, and they were teenagers – when you looked back at yourself at seventeen – you were glad you’d never be seventeen again. So, you gave them a pass.
As your pupils settled in their seats you got your computer ready with today’s PowerPoint.
“As you all know,” you started, taking a deep breath, “We have some very special guests coming later. A royal visit. That means that the rest of the day will be a little different, and after lunch you’re all free to go home”.
The promise of school being out, got a few cheers. It made you chuckle before you clicked to the next slide on your presentation, showing the plan for the day.
“We started working through our curriculum on the British monarchy a few weeks ago, you guys remember we talked about Queen Victoria last week?” you got a few nods.
“Anyone remember how long her reign was?” you asked, looking at your half-asleep pupils.
In the front, a hand shot up in the air. It was Louis. He was kind of a history nerd, and your most devoted pupil. He got picked on by the others a lot and you tried your best to look out for him a little extra.
“Yes, Louis?”
“Sixty-three years, seven months and two days” he answered dutifully.
In the back of the classroom, you heard a snicker. You decided to ignore it for now.
“That’s right, Louis! And her reign is known as the Victorian era. She became queen when she was very young! She was only eighteen years old– can you guys imagine that? She was only a year older than you are now. She has that in common with our king– King Thomas. He was only twenty-four when he became king” you tried to keep your face neutral when you talked about him, but it was hard. It felt weird talking about him like you didn’t know him, not when you were carrying his baby in your belly.
“Ms. y/l/n” a hand shot up in the back. It was Fatima.
“Yes, Fatima?”
“Why do we need to be visited by the king and queen? They’re colonisers and I don’t understand why we’re celebrating them!?” she said.
“That’s very true, Fatima! Great point– and we’ll be talking more about this topic next week…” you paused for a second before you continued, “To be completely honest with you– the reason they’re here today is because one of their charities supports our school. It’s because of money, like so much else in this world. I understand your concern– I really do, but there’s nothing I can do about it unfortunately”.
“So, even if we don’t want to meet them– we have to?” she countered.
You stepped around your desk to lean against it. “I’m not gonna force you to do anything– I completely understand wanting to not meet them” you understood more than anything actually, “but I can’t promise the same from Mr. White” you gave her a beaten smile.
“That is such bullshit!” she said.
You stepped back behind your desk, “That is very true, Fatima!”.
You continued going through the plan for the day, trying your best to tie what you’d already talked about, about the British monarchy, into Tom and the modern monarchy. You quickly went through the etiquette of meeting a member of the royal family (this was extremely important that you go through, according to Mr. White).
“The King and Queen will be arriving soon,” you glanced quickly at the clock over the door, “then we’ll all gather in the auditorium where the King will be holding a speech, and then after that we’ll all go back here, and they’ll visit each class. I’m not sure what they’ll do– but I’m guessing they’ll greet you all, and ask you guys a few questions, and maybe answer some if you have them. After that you can all go home for the day. That sound alright?” you finished.
You got a few nods.
“Okay, then– let’s clean up in here and walk together to the auditorium”
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Leaning back against the wall, standing on the stairs of your school’s auditorium, reality hit you.
Your stomach actually hurt. Nerves travelled through you like electricity all the way to your fingertips. You were sure that if you were unlucky enough, you’d meet the eyes of Queen Genevieve, and she’d know what you’d done. Scared you’d look like a guilty puppy after being caught making a mess.
“You excited?” Mr. Khan said over your shoulder, startling you. He stood on the step above you with a wide grin, teeth bared, as you turned to look at him over your shoulder.
“Would it be treason to say no?” you whispered in his ear.
He laughed, barely noticeable over the high-volumed conversation, “Probably!”.
“What did you say your dad called the monarchy again?” he asked, leaning back against the wall like you did.
“A fascist regime” you recalled, “After the Sex–”.
He cut you off, remembering with a nod, “After the Sex Pistols song”.
“God,” he started, “I would’ve loved to see King Thomas’ face if you told him that” he laughed.
You felt your body freeze to ice at his words. “Wh–What do you mean?” you stuttered out.
“Later, when they’re visiting our classrooms– how do you think he’d react if you told him that” he continued laughing.
Letting out a nervous chuckle, you said “Oh… I don’t know– maybe he’d find it refreshing to hear?”.
A memory flicked before your eyes for a second. You and Tom in your room – when he’d visited your flat for the first time. The night you had your first kiss. You knew for a fact he found it refreshing. It was the reason he’d kissed you. You didn’t dare linger on that memory too long. It made your stomach hurt even more. A sharp stabbing pain, moving from your front to your lower back.
It made you wince, and Rhys noticed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern coating his tongue.
“Nothing,” you shook your head, “I–I just have a stomach ache” you explained.
“Again? You need to get that checked out, love!”.
You gave him a meek smile. Maybe you should tell him you were pregnant. It wouldn’t matter either way if he knew – you had the date for your abortion scheduled already.
“Settle down, settle down– LIAM! SIT DOWN!” you heard the voice of one of your colleagues. You pushed yourself off the wall, sending Rhys a sorry smile for having your conversation cut short before you joined your colleagues in quieting down your pupils.
A moment later, your heart stopped as you watched him walk through the auditorium door, with his wife on his arm. Beside them, they were escorted by the headmaster Mr. White. The room went quiet immediately.
You leaned back against the wall again beside Rhys, trying to steady yourself. Tom looked as handsome as ever, and you ached. That wound in your heart ripped open again. Instinctively, a hand came down to rest over your belly, soothing both yourself and your baby.
Dragging your eyes away from him, they landed on his wife, Queen Genevieve. She looked stunning. Her hair was perfectly curled, bouncing with every step she took. Her make-up was smooth and spotless. She was wearing the most beautiful dress that fit her perfectly. You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d ever seen in you. He’s married to the most perfect woman in the world. Her smile shone like diamonds as she waved to the pupils.
Mr. White escorted them to the front row, where two seats had been picked out just for them. Carefully, Tom helped Queen Genevieve sit. He treated her like she was made of glass, asking her if she was okay, if you read his lips correctly. After her affirmative nod, he stood up straighter and gave a wave to the audience before Mr. White led him up the stairs to the stage.
He waved again as he walked with sure steps to the middle of the stage. He was clad in a light grey suit, still clinging to the end of summer. Slipping a hand inside his jacket, he fished out a stack of cards. He looked happy. His smile pearly white, eyes crinkling.
Another sharp pain stabbed you.
You couldn’t look at him as he started his speech. His voice echoed through the room, but you felt so far away. You pressed your hand a little harder to your belly. You couldn’t hear a single word he said, just his familiar voice. It used to be calming, and it still was. But now guilt bit its sharp teeth in you.
Another sharp pain knifed your lower half, twisting its way to your lower back. Involuntarily, you hunched forward, clinging to yourself.
“y/n? Love?” Rhys whispered beside you, a comforting hand coming down to rest against your back, “What’s going on?”.
He sounded worried – which made you worried.
The pain came with quicker intervals, and you started to find it hard to breathe. Panic washed over you. Hand tightening around yourself, both trying to keep yourself standing upright, but also helping you cling to the reality of the situation.
A tear rolled down your cheek, but not from the pain.
Gathering all your strength you turned your head to look at Tom. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe, somehow, he understood what was happening. His eyes locked with yours in that exact moment.
He stumbled over his words. A mixture of happy recognition, and sadness flicking over his face, which then turned to concern. You shook your head. You don’t know at what. To tell him you’re okay, and not to worry? To tell him that it was over? To tell him your baby is dead?
“y/n!” it was Rhys in your ear, his voice erratic, “You have blood coming down your legs”.
“I–I think I’m having a miscarriage” you stuttered.
He looked at you like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. Then he started nodding. Like he was coming up with a plan in his head. He didn’t say a word, only wrapped an arm around you to help you down the stairs. One step at a time.
You felt Tom’s eyes on you, as he struggled through the rest of his speech. Thankfully the lights were dimmed enough to make your shaky exit nothing but an annoying stain in the audience’s side vision.
That was the worst day of your life. And the last time you saw Tom in person. Rhys took you to the emergency room where they confirmed your suspicions. You were having a miscarriage. The rest of the day was like a black hole in your memory, and you were glad. You wanted to forget. The only thing you remembered was Rhys. He never left your side – not even once.
You managed to get the rest of the week off work, both to recover and to mourn. It was strange. Mourning someone you’d already decided not to have.
On the day you’d had your abortion scheduled, flowers got delivered to your flat. It was a big bouquet of white roses. It came with a card. Only two words were spelled out in a handwriting you recognized right away.
“I’m sorry
- T”
You didn’t know what he was apologising for, at the time. For falling in love with you? For getting you pregnant? For your loss? But how could he even know about your loss, and his.
Your answer came a couple of weeks later. A simple news push-notification on your phone.
“ROYAL BABY!” it read.
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previous: the reunion |
tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat, @lnmp89, @petrspideyparker, @hollandweather, @userholland, @imawhoreforu, @onepieceya, @sparklingsin, @annathesillyfriend, @mayal0pez, @transparentpsychicempathkid, @fic-rewind, @spideysmb, @the-unknown-fan-girl, @mannien, @moonlightdotmp3, @padlockedhearts, @moniffazictress11, @all4koo, @angelayse, @svechnibrock, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx, @xxtomspideyxx, @i83andrew, @clockblobber, @fangirlinggalore, @luciwritesstuff, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @lol-just-kidding002, @allywthsr, @captainsbestgal, @readheadwriter, @parkersdahlia, @cosmicryuz, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up​, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg​, @obsessedprincess​, @alltoowelltom​, @hey-im-bored504​, @storybookholland​, @sadisticsongbird​, @prettyjendeukie​, @marsbars09​, @mixedfandxms​, @ahalliwell5, @t-lostinworlds​
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explorevenus · 1 year
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How about 🎆 for the Yandere!Leon Ask Game? 👀 Also congrats on the 1k you deserve it!!!!!!!!!!!! Your work is so good. 💜💜
NEXYS THANK U I LOVE U SO VERY VERY MUCH AAAA!!!!!!!!!!!
i hope this is good, ily ;w;
context for those of u who are just joining us-- this is part of an emoji ask game where i write a yandere!leon blurb based on emojis in celebration of 1k followers !! requests for this game are closed now, although my ask box is always open for yandere!leon brainrot rambles <33 love y'all and thanks for participating!! i will be slowly working through the rest of the emojis already in my ask box <3
tags/warnings - yandere!leon kennedy, fem!reader, reader is in captivity, leon is delusional, other than that nothing !!
blurb below the cut <33
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It was New Year's, ten minutes to midnight.
While your friends and family were no doubt gathering for parties, drinking champagne and counting down the minutes until they could share a kiss with their lovers into the New Year, you were at Leon's, still in captivity, still not allowed to go outside.
You sighed deeply, thinking of the plans you'd made with your friends months ago, long before Leon had taken you in. You were all going to gather together at one of your friend's apartments, share a bottle of champagne, play games, and go into the New Year as a tighter group. You wondered if they were hanging out without you right now. You wondered if your absence was killing the vibe.
"What're you thinking about, princess?" Leon asked from behind you, running his fingers through your hair.
"It's New Year's," You spoke softly, staring blankly at the wall. "I was supposed to be with my friends today."
He hummed softly, leaning forward to kiss your neck sweetly. "I'm sorry, princess. That's a bummer, huh?"
You nodded. It was almost laughable how indifferent he was to your feelings sometimes.
"It's a good thing you have me then," He continued, lips ghosting along your warm skin. "We can go outside, watch the fireworks, share a kiss at midnight… How does that sound, pup?"
Despite your internal struggle, it did sound kind of nice. Normal. Something you really needed right now, a reminder of what it felt like to be normal. You turned over your shoulder to look at him. "Okay… sure. I-I'd like that."
He softly kissed the top of your head, humming contently. "Good. Put on a jacket, princess, it's cold outside," He said, and while his words sounded like a suggestion, his tone sounded like a command.
You nodded blankly, reaching for the first jacket you could find in the closet before taking his hand, letting him lead you out of the room and to the backyard. It was pretty cold outside, he wasn't wrong about that-- the biting December air felt good, sobering on your skin. Still, you subconsciously huddled to his side for warmth.
"What's your resolution?" He asked, voice cutting through the silence.
"Huh?" You tilted your head, a little caught of guard by his question.
"Your New Year's resolution, sweetheart," He repeated somewhat condescendingly. "Do you have one?"
Admittedly, you hadn't put much thought into it. Obviously your energy was better spent elsewhere as of late. You hummed in thought for a moment before coming up with an answer you thought would please him. "I don't know… I guess I'd like to take better care of myself this year… What about you?"
Leon smiled, planting a kiss to the top of your head. "To take better care of you," He answered honestly. "My pretty little princess… I just want to take better care of you."
You could hardly begin to imagine what he meant by that. It wasn't always clear to tell what he considered 'good care.' Still, it was a sweet response. You gave him a weak smile, turning to look up at the sky. Any minute fireworks would undoubtedly begin popping off around the city.
Leon kept one hand on the small of your back as he checked his watch. It was 11:59 p.m. He gently turned you to him, caressing your cheek with his thumb as he gazed into your eyes. You were so pretty, so sweet, and you were all his. What he hadn't told you was he had a second resolution-- to keep you all to himself, to properly train you to be his perfect little dolly. He could almost taste it.
His watch beeped as the clock ticked up to the hour, and almost immediately, an array of distant fireworks began popping and glittering across the sky. Leon guided his face down to yours, whispering lowly, "Happy New Year, princess," before connecting his lips to yours.
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gravity-what · 6 months
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More art to go with story blurbs I may or may not actually write.
This piece is definitely one of my biggest as far as number of characters is concerned but I am actually pretty happy with how it came out! Shout out to @grasshopperdoingdogpaddle for being very kind and finding screenshots of the temple dinning room for me to reference!
Anyway: blurb under the cut that explains context!
“Okay thats it! I am tired of pretending everything is fine and okay with all of this and if Dashi isn’t going to do anything then maybe Guan will!” Rai yelled across the dining table, his hands pressed against the table and his breaths coming hard in anger. “Chase is going to turn Heylin and become an evil dragon monster!”
An awkward silence fell over the table only broken by Dashi himself as he let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like it was supposed to hide a laugh. The silence stretched until Dashi finally seemed to get ahold of himself and spoke up.
“Sorry kid,” he said with an air of nonchalance, “guess I should have told you when we were chatting earlier: you are about thirty years late on that information.” he said slowly, indicating to Chase who was looking away and drinking tea to try to hide a physical wince. “already happened.”
There was another long pause as Guan rolled his eyes and the Dragons in training looked at their time traveling guests in various expressions of shock. They all seemed to recover at once and a collective “IT WHAT!?” Filled the room, including Omi who was looking at Chase with something like shocked sadness. ‘Poor kid’ Dashi thought, chuckling under his breath ‘spent the whole day with the guy and had no idea’.
“I don’t see what is so funny about this situation.” Guan cut in with a glare, making it obvious that Dashi wasn’t doing as good a job as he thought in hiding his laughter, “we are wasting time continuing to stay here, and the longer we wait-”
“What? What’s going to happen?” Dashi asked, reclining back against some air, “Come on buddy, we are in the future! We can get back to the past at any point we want. Hell, we could even go back to before we left! Although that, uh…might complicate things…”
“I hate to agree with Guan, Dashi, but I am with him on this one.” Chase cut in. “As good as it has been to see Omi once more and to be…somewhat myself again, we really should not put off taking care of Hannibal longer than necessary. I do not wish to think about what could be happening in our absence.”
“Hey, hey hey!” Dashi said, waving his hand again at his two companions, as temporary as they might be, “look at it this way, both of you! We are in the future and it’s looking pretty bright to me so obviously we did something right! Right?”
“I’m sorry,” the future Dragon of Fire cut in, “can we uh…go back to the whole ‘Chase is already an evil monster’ thing?” She said, indicating a little frantically to said ‘evil monster’, “because he doesn’t exactly look like it right now.”
Chase sighed and looked away again, though really he had been avoiding eye contact this whole time, “The monstrous half of me, or, I suppose more accurately, the Yin side of me, has been trapped in the yin-yang world thanks to Dashi’s little toy.”
“Hold up!” Dashi argued, sitting back up again, “They aren’t toys! They are powerful magical devices!”
“It was a yo-yo.” Chase deadpanned.
“A Yo-yo that opened a portal to another dimension that we managed to trick you into and back out of!” he added in a teasing voice. The exasperated look that Chase sent Dashi was mirrored by Guan.
“So…this is your Yang self?” Omi asked, sounding a little bit too enthusiastic about the realization.
“Ah-ah kid! I can see those wheels turning,” Dashi waved a finger at him, “and, let me tell you, this isn’t a very good solution to the overall problem you are trying to fix. No one can go around as only half themselves forever. It just doesn’t work like that.”
“Even if Chases other half is a mindless beast.” Guan added in, sounding bitter.
“I am working on that!” Chase insisted with a hiss, obviously only meant for Guan to hear even though the room and table were really too small for them to talk just between themselves. “Do you think I enjoy having no control over myself and my actions?!”
“You certainly seemed to be enjoying ravaging that village before we tricked you into that portal-“
“Guys, Guys! No fighting it front of the kids alright?” Dashi quickly cut in. He was pretty sure those kinds of gory details weren’t kid-appropriate, even if these kids were the future Xiaolin Dragons. “besides, we’re here to relax, recuperate, and come up with a plan right? No fighting allowed.”
Both Guan and Chase let out a groan and an eye roll but did get back to their meals once more as Dashi reclined back on his gust of air. It really was nice to have the gang back together, even if it was going to no-doubt be short lived.
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hannahssimblr · 2 months
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I tap a knuckle against the study door. 
“Dad?”
There’s silence. 
I knock again. “Dad? Are you busy?” 
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He’s moving around in there, I can hear him. Closing browser tabs, maybe. Shuffling around and rearranging things, in a blind panic trying to look like he’s doing something important. I huff out a tiny laugh at the thought of him hurrying to close the minesweeper window before someone can come in and catch him doing something unserious. I don’t really know what he does in his pokey little study all evening, but one of Jen’s crazy theories is that he’s chatting online to his twenty two year old YouTuber girlfriend, to which I need to remind her, once again, that my dad is too boring to have an affair. Mom says he’s writing reports and even that sounds too exciting for him.
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“Come in,” he says eventually, and I let myself into his lair where he is sitting stoically at his computer, a stack of paper, no doubt with exceedingly dull information on them is right by his side, and his hand hovers over it so I'll know he’s especially busy, and whatever it is, I had better make it quick. 
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I close the door behind me and approach him while his eyes settle curiously on the stack of soft cover books in my hands. “What are those?”
“I spoke to the guidance counsellor at school this week. She gave me some college prospectuses, and I thought we could... um, look through them together”
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He heaves out a sigh and gestures to the second chair. The guest chair, I suppose, not that there’s ever guests in here to sit on it. It’s uncomfortable like a lot of furniture in this house, all style but no substance, and I perch on its edge, my knee doing that annoying anxious jerking thing while dad takes off his glasses and swaps them with another pair. “Show me what you have.”
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I pass the stack to him and he drops it onto his desk with a thud, picks up the first and immediately flips the front cover towards me with a completely uncalled for attitude. “What’s this?”
“A prospectus.”
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“Rhode Island School of Design?”
“Yes.”
He tosses it aside without so much as a glance inside it and grabs the next, “School of the Art Institute, Chicago,” Then reads the blurb incredulously “‘Art and design change the world.’ Alright…” He raises his eyebrows and puffs out a breath as he chucks it into the discard pile. “CalArts, nope.”
My face gets hot. 
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He snatches another and flips over to the back, “‘Studying here is different,’” He reads, “‘It is about making a better world, about becoming a creative force and learning to change the world through bold and curious thinking…’” He mumbles the rest and then scoffs at it as if it’s some political argument he disagrees with inside the Sunday Times, and he goes on and on in this manner while the rejection pile builds and builds and so does the feeling inside me. 
“What is this?” He says eventually. “These are all American schools. American art schools.”
“Yes.”
He scrutinises me like he believes I have gone mad yet says nothing because he doesn’t need to. I already know what he’s asking. 
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The words come out of me in a rush. I rehearsed this in the hall for five minutes before having the nerve to knock, “Because I think I would get a chance at a really great education there. It’d be good for me to be away and independent and to learn a lot of new things, not just education and art, but also travel and culture. I’d really like to go to college somewhere that’s exciting and dynamic and… and…” Damn, I forgot the other adjective I’d chosen, “...Um, fun, I guess. It’s just that whenever I think about college I imagine myself in the US. I really think that’s where I should be.”
“That’s because that’s what you see in those movies.” He says movies like one might say hardcore pornography, because Christopher doesn’t waste his time with such things as movies. Christopher works, and studies, and reads endless, endless books about World War II. “You’re not going to college in the states.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a waste of time and it’s a waste of money. Do you know what it costs to attend just a year of college in the US? Before your living expenses?”
“I know, but I spoke to the counsellor about it, and she explained that there are scholarships.”
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He laughs, “You’re not going to get a scholarship,” and switches back to his other glasses and shakes his mouse to wake up his PC, which has some kind of thrilling spreadsheet open on it. This 2009 financial report must be rapturously exciting if he’s more interested in it than the future of his only son and firstborn child. 
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I inhale sharply, “But why couldn’t I get a scholarship?”
“Because,” He types some numbers into the sheet, “You’d have to have a pristine academic record, a long list of extracurriculars and a very persuasive personal statement,” he peers briefly at me over the rim of his specs, “I’ve been through the US education system, and I know the standard that these colleges expect of their scholarship students. You’re just not up to it.”
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“I could be, if I worked hard. I’m already doing pretty well in all of my classes, like, I get Bs in most things-” I stop myself before unhelpfully adding, without even trying, “And I have extracurriculars, like, I play rugby and help out Jen with her maths work…”
“You have to understand that the kinds of people who earn these scholarships do a lot more than that.”
“Well I would do more things if I had more time to myself in the mornings, or in the evenings, or after school, or at any other point in my day when I have to ferry Ivy back and forth from-”
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Dad barrels on as though he hasn’t registered that I am speaking, “And you know, as well as the extracurriculars, all of these scholarship students have exemplary records. They're well mannered, well behaved, they never get into trouble, never get detention, never mind suspension. Twice.”
I snap my mouth shut. 
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“Honestly, if I was the dean of one of these,” he plucks at the limp corner of one of the prospectuses, “Art college places, and I saw an application from someone with your record, I would simply toss it out. There’s not a chance, and before you ask, I am not paying for art school when you could easily do that here. For free.”
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“Okay, I understand that, but I don’t really want to go to college here if I can avoid it.”
He doesn’t ask me why. He already knows but doesn't want to acknowledge it, and it’s easier, as it always is, just not to discuss feelings. Any feelings, especially mine, which are the most irritating and irrational feelings of all. “Why art school?” He hums, idly poking around with something on screen. “Couldn’t you choose a more academic course?”
I’m surprised he thinks I’m capable based on all the things he just said about me.
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“You could apply for something in Trinity. Math, maybe?”
“Maths.”
“Or if you want something more artistic you could try English. Literature. That would be interesting, don't you think?”
“Or I could just… do art.”
“I would just hate to see you become one of those arty types. One of that NCAD crowd loitering around Thomas Street with their facial piercings and crazy haircuts.”
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Oh no, a haircut. I sigh, “I’m not going to NCAD. I was kind of hoping you’d be more enthusiastic about my choices, but if you don’t think they’re right, I mean… what can I do.” I loathe the laugh that comes out of me, this strange, nervous titter that I didn’t even realise I was capable of.
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I get up and begin to gather the stack of prospectuses laying forlornly on my father’s desk, my hopes and dreams bound for the recycling bin. “I’ll speak to the guidance counsellor again about my options, I suppose, and then I’ll try and choose something that’s more realistic for me.”
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Before I let myself out I force myself to pause and turn to him one last time, “Do you… um, if I come up with more choices for colleges, do you think you’d want to sit down with me some evening and go through them? Like, I mean, really look over all of the options and help me decide what the best thing is?”
There is a lengthy pause. 
“You know, Jude, I’m really busy, and-”
“Okay.” I leave the room and shut the door with a gentle click.
Beginning // Prev // Next
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cherrysha · 7 months
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Pairing: Choso x reader
A/N: just a little blurb, something I don’t intend to write into a full fic but couldn’t help from writing. Also bonus points if you can guess the song that inspired this!!
Word count: 631
Warnings: cheating, A/B/O, fingering
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“Does he take care of you?”
His breath is hot in your ear, lips ghosting over the sensitive flesh of your neck as your breath comes out in short bursts.
Choso’s fingers are doing something wicked to your insides, his hand buried deep under your skirt as you try to rationalize the situation in your mind. You barely register his words, too focused on the pleasure blossoming between your legs.
This was okay. It was fine, even. Seven missed calls and a slew of text messages weigh heavy in your mind. He wasn’t supposed to be out this late.
“He hasn’t even claimed you” he whispers, a kiss placed on the mating gland at the crook of your neck.
You swallow down the lump in your throat, hoping your voice doesn’t betray your nerves.
“H-he’s just waiting for the right time.”
Choso scoffs. You know what he’s thinking, hell, everyone knew. Even you. The only thing that made you special was that he chose you to come home to some nights, and tonight was not one of those nights.
At this point did you even want the damned scar?
The hand under your skirt snaps you back to reality. The delicious pumping stills as choso looks at you, using his other hand to force you to finally meet his gaze.
“You may be able to lie to him” he intones “but you don’t have to do that with me, alright?”
Your lips purse as he waits for a response, if it weren’t for the comfort of his scent you’re sure whatever this was, would’ve ended with you leaving with your tail tucked between your legs. But that was the beauty of choso, he’d always been there, through everything.
“Alright” you whisper, a sigh leaving you once again as choso’s fingers deftly sweep over your clit in a show of encouragement. His fingers move deftly in and out of you, building up a pressure that was soon to snap if he kept it up. Choso’s face cracks into a sympathetic smile at the sound of your whines, your hips greedily coming up to meet his hand with every thrust. The air in the room is thick with the smell of your combined arousal. You try not to think too much about how comforting it is, how hard it’ll be to leave.
Instead you focus solely on the feeling. The knot in your lower stomach threatening to snap any moment now. Heat pulling at the back of your brain, turning everything syrupy sweet. This wasn’t wrong, with Choso holding you so firmly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, it couldn’t be.
Choso’s teeth drag across the mating gland one more time, and the thought of him sinking his teeth deep into the juncture is what sends you careening over the edge.
He holds you through it all, hands soothingly stroking over your exposed thighs, the wetness of his fingers sliding across your warm skin. The moment is broken when choso speaks again.
“I could easily fill his shoes, you know… you don’t need him” the air in the room feels cold, clammy as you try to regain your composure. it’s a nice thought, one you allow yourself to have every once in a while. Of running away with Choso, of leaving the bastard behind, all your responsibilities thrown out the window. Instead you take a moment before whispering
“Not tonight… please.”
Your heat was only a few days away, from what you could tell, and yet your partner decided now was the time to pull another vanishing act. If it weren’t for Choso you’d be trapped in your apartment clawing at the walls in search of relief.
Your stomach turns and you with it, curling up into choso’s side as he continues to languidly run his hands over you. Judging by his expression he wasn’t happy either, jaw clenched tight in probably in an effort to keep the peace.
You know he’s right. But right now it’s the last thing you want to think about.
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alilbitlesbian · 1 year
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So I'm writing a fic/ one-shot about SidonxReader.
Concept is that first Hylian in a very very long time decides to move into the Zora'a domain, and Sidon does his best to help them feel at home in the domain, but there's barely any books about Hylians and what they need, and the Hylian doesn't seem to like him much, but everyone's asking him questions and being concerned about the Hylian's health!!
So he starts to write his own journal about Hylian culture and what Hylians need to survive and whatnot, just to have a log of all the information for if someone asks.
The fic is mostly supposed to be written like you're reading his journal, with little parts of story and actual interaction with no discernible like, timeline I guess? It starts at chapter one, but I like to think Sidon is quite chaotic in the way he writes, so it jumps back and forth a little.
Anyway its very Sidon x Reader and/or Sidlink centered, wherein Sidon keeps noting down Hylian "quirks" he sees, like how Hylians twitch their ears or cut their hair, then exchanges letters with Princess Zelda and sometimes Link with questions, he even runs little social expirements to figure things out on his own!
The fun thing is that eventually other species reallyyy want to see the fabled book, because with Hyrule joined together once more, Hylians are moving in with other species more and more, and the cultures are so distinctive, and The Goron just found out that Hylians can't eat Prime Rock Roast, so it turns into a "How to care for your Hylian" type book??
Anyways, I'd love to hear any ideas you guys have on what could possibly be "problems" or cultural differences between Zora and the reader, or Sidon and the reader, or Hylians and any species! If you think of a good prompt, please reply or send me an ask, I'd love to include it in the story or write a blurb for it!!!
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drunkenlionwrites · 1 year
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If it’s not too much to ask could I get some comforting/protective Vash? Something really awful happened recently and it made me feel really powerless and scared so my heads been like. backward since and idk vash is my go-to comfort blorbo and your writing is lovely ;u; thank you 💕
Protective and comforting Vash Hi nonnie! Of course, I hope you are okay and feel better now. Whatever has happened, know that it's not your falut and I empathise and know how it sucks to feel powerless. Here is some Vash blurbs to help comfort you. I went with Trimax Vash, cause have you seen the man when he's in a full protective mode? Phew Warnings: hurt/comfort, g/n reader, a biiit of s/a if you squint, but it's generally fluffy
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You and Meryl stood by the bar deciding on what to get to drink a bit before going to bed. You just wanted to stay up later and gossip, while Milly, Nicholas and Vash were already upstairs in the rented rooms the bar has also offered.
While you were idly chatting and sipping on your drinks, you've felt someone touching your waist from behind, upon turning your head back, you saw a disgusting smile, with some teeth rotten black and felt the warm putrid breath on your face. He just giggled and continued coming closer and closer to you.
You were disgusted, but for some reason, you froze to your seat and couldnt do anything: maybe cause you've been a bit tipsy already, on top of being really exhausted the past few days, so you've been really dumbfounded and didn't act quickly.
You've heard Meryl's bickering on the backgound and her trying to pry the man's arms off of you, but everything felt like you were in a haze, it was really awful. All you've wanted was just to have a little bit of rest...and it came to this now
Suddenly, a splash of red flickered in fornt of your face, you blinked several times and all you could see now was Vash's broad back in front of you.
He wasn't even in his goofy "let's not get angry everyone" mood, he just twisted the man's arm in the way you could hear the crunch of his tendons and just said "let them go and get out of here after you've done with a drink. And I wouldn't bring anymore attention to it in your place, my guy"
You couldn't see his expression, but his words were quiet and menacing. You thought you're lucky you were not on the receiving end of it. Vash nodded to Meryl once he let go of the goon's hand and turned to you, instantly his face was adorned with the softest of the smiles. He placed his hands on your shoulders, leaned down to you and asked "You okay?"
You finally felt so relieved and so so tired and disgusted at the man, and at your inaction all at once, so you simply went limp in his arms sobbing quietly "I'm sorry"
He gently grabbed you and scooped you close to his chest and went out of the bar. "Let's breathe some fresh evening air, right?" He awkwardly laughed a bit, trying to bring you back from your stupor.
He sat at the porch of the bar/inn where you were staying, and you were still curled in his arms. He put his chin on your head, hugging you closer to himself. "You're fine now. Just breathe and look at the moons as long as you need to calm down, okay? Your personal guard till the end of the night is Vash the Stampede himself, and that counts for something!"
You could feel his breathing and the beating of his heart with your back and it has calmed you down in some time. "Thanks... and sorry, I guess. I caused the trouble..." you murmured.
"The only one who caused the trouble is that drunk pig at the counter, okay? And also me, cause I am supposed to protect my friends when they're in need and I was late...and don't just counter me here with anything, okay?" he chuckled. "Just breathe. The chilly evening air is refreshing, aint it?"
Once again, you couldn't see his face and you couldn't understand all the undertones in his voice. Vash was such an enigma to you. But you've felt safer here, on a dirty porch near the bar full of drunk and not so nice people, just sitting in the Vash's arms, lulled by his steady breathing and a weight of his head on yours.
"Thank you" you said sincerely. You couldn't have seen it, but you've felt Vash smiling looking into the night sky.
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peaky-shelby · 1 year
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New Romantics — Blurb: Showers (Smut)
WARNING: 18+, FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT DONT BE MEAN, VERY EXPLICIT.
Due to popular demand, here's a peak in Taylor's and Kylian's sex life i guess 😭 i did my best sweethearts, enjoy 💞 dedicated to @karotland and @okayymochi ✨
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Taylor Wilock stepped out of the shower, shutting off the running water and wrapping a towel around her chest. The humidity in the bathroom had made the morrow foggy and was a little chilly. She could hear loud music coming from the other room, smiling in the room as her body was slowly moving to the french beat. She took her brush from the sink and started untangling her wet hair, slowly and carefully, sometimes humming along to the melody even though she had no idea what the song was talking about.
She smiled when she saw the bathroom door opening, a very cheery and dancy Kylian coming in. She chuckled at his dance moves, his loud and very off key singing. He took that as an initiative to get closer, she laughed at how silly they looked in the mirror. Kylian singing the lyrics to her ear, his hand crawling to her sides and she attempted to manoeuvre out of his hold but he just sunk his mouth on her neck and tickled her.
"neighbors are gonna complain!” she whined, tilting her head down so she'd find his eyes or his lips, either ond she'd be happy. He raised his mouth from her neck, kissing the corners of her lips and biting her cheek "Ah!” she squilled, making a sudden step back but he kept her close to him still and connected his lips with hers, his tongue entering her mouth before she could even process the kiss, not that she minded of course. She leaned deeper into him while his one hand crawled under the towel and up her thigh, she snatched it, stopping him. "I just had a shower"
"I'll pay for your water bill--"
She let out a belly laugh while he dived back to her neck "thats not-- Kylian--” he name was supposed to come out in a strict tone so he'd stop. Instead it came out needy, it came out in a sigh and he smirked, bitting one of the veins in her neck. She let go of his hand and let him go higher, his fingers ghosting over the most sensitive parts of her body and all of a sudden she had no strength to stop him, she wanted to grab his hand and force him to go deeper, skip any sort of foreplay because she was already breaking apart. "Ky..."
"hm?" He asked, his fingers going back to her ass and giving it a light squeeze.
"you're annoying." She mumbled and he laughed, raising his head and looking up at her with a devilish smile. He brushed his nose against her and gave her a quick peck.
"am i?” he asked.
"absolutely."
He shrugged. "Ok"
He pulled back, taking his warmth and need with her. He went back to the bedroom, leaving her to stand alone in the now cold room. Her mouth dropped open, disbelief of how this man could get her intoxicated and angry in the same goddamn second. But she wouldn't do him the favor of following behind him, she knew that was exactly what he wanted. She tied the towel safer around her chest, and put on her underwear before coming out of the bathroom to search the closet for a comfortable set of clothes. Then she saw his jersey in the back of a pile. She smirked because if he wanted to play, she'd play harder.
She snatched the shirt before he could see it and walked back in the bathroom to dress in it. When she was done, she came out confident, with little to no care of what the affect she'd have on him would be.
Kylian was laying on the bed, looking at his phone, picking another song when he felt the mattress deepen at the edge. He looked up for a short second when he was met with his name and number and the deep blue color that was his favorite. His phone dropped from his hand, his eyes scanning her back while She was putting on her socks, paying zero attention to him.
A smile started creeping up on his face, as he got on his knees and moved closer to her. How could he refuse her when she had his name written on her back. She smiled when she felt the bed deepen, his body getting closer while he was vibrating with lust. "Thought you'd throw it away." His voice send a shiver from her spine up to her head.
"I'll sell it for millions to a collector eventually."
He grinned "i feel used." He whispered in her ear, stroking it just a little with the tip of his tongue causing her to tremble under him. While she was occupied taking in his breath and sloppy bites on her ears, she didn't notice where his hands had travelled until it was too late. His fingers sneaking in her panties and coming in direct contact with her center and she let out a moan in the same instant as she crumbled backwards to him and let his fingers wonder with no complaint. The kisses on her neck became more aggressive, more sloppy, more needy and the pleasure was building up for both but especially for her because he knew exactly what he was doing and then his finger got inside of her. His teeth on her ear, bitting a little harder as she moved in sync with him.
"You know what seeing my name on your back makes me feel like?” She shook her head, way too hypnotized to say anything else "Ça me donne envie de te faire complètement mienne" [Makes me wanna make you mine completely.]
He snuck deeper in her and moan came out louder than the rest, almost sounded like a groan as she unraveled completely on him. He had no idea what he said to her but it sounded possessive, it sounded honest. She decided that wasn't enough and she turned around, her legs wrapping around him while his fingers were quick to get back where they were before. She molded her lips in his, rocking against him, up and down slowly. Her hands gripping the back of his neck to make sure he won't go away. She sat on his lap and he removed the delicate fabric from her completely, mentally thanking himself for wearing shorts while she rode his thigh and the skin to skin contact was as easy as that.
She moved one of her hands to his shorts and pulled on his waist pants like a kid that was trying to get back something. He laughed, breaking away from the kiss. "Tu es impatient?"
"tais-toi!" She snapped and he froze. Telling him to shut up in his language sounded sexier than he expected.
"Oh, on va s'amuser ce soir!" [Oh we're gonna have fun tonight] he grinned and turned their bodies, throwing her under him on the mattress and hovering over her a few seconds later. He went down on her, her legs rested on his shoulders while he was eating her up. A taste that he had grown to need like coffee in the morning. She gripped on his hair, sometimes trying to pull him up because she needed him in different ways. He got the message eventually, took off his shorts and revealed his manhood, which was already hard. He took a condom from the ones they had on the drawer and laid on top of her, looking in her eyes, kissing her cheek. "You ok?” he asked, a moment of tenderness from him as she nodded.
"go on" she said, stroking his cheek. and he got inside her slowly. His rhythm steady at first, she was holding on the chain around his neck, pulling her closet everytime he'd stay away for longer than a second. He'd leave kisses on her face, his lips hooking on her bottom one. He started to go faster, his head falling on her shoulder while picked up pace. "Ky" she'd mumble "fuck--” and he didn't want to go to fast or too hard, he didn't want pleasure to be replaced by pain. "I'm close" she gasped. He wanted to stop just so he could keep her on that high forever, a high that he knew only he could get her to. He breathed, his final breathes in her mouth. Their tongues way to familiar with each other at this point.
"mbappe" she said in his mouth. And it got him weak, a moan leaving his lips so effortlessly because he heard his last name from millions of people but there was something about her saying it when he was still inside her. When he had thought of fucking her everytime she said on practice. What he ever done to deserve hearing his name like that from her lips? he wondered.
Slowing down again and hitting that spot that was making her speechless, that was making her his, even if it was for a short time. "Ma Cherie" he whispered in her ear, while they both reached their climax.
His body dropped on her when they both finished, he laid on top of her, his weight taking her over while they were coming down. She scratched his head, gently, thanking him. Staring at the ceiling.
He kissed her collarbone multiple times. Every single one of her bones. He moved her jersey up to reveal her stomach and breast, only so he could leave kisses there as well because he wanted her to know how much he appreciated every inch of her body. How he praised it and how he missed it when he couldn't have it. Then he got to her lips again, smiling "could fuck you a thousand times in this shirt if you let me."
"permission granted." She teased but her voice was still weak. Her breaths still heavy. She cupped his chin with her fingers, forcing him to come closer, kissing him again, because she'd never be tired of the way he tasted. "You better help me shower again, now!"
He grinned, in a swift movement he picked her up, she screamed as he walked with her to bathroom and let her down on the shower. He opened the water before she took of his jersey and it got wet around her body, revealing her chest under it. He trapped her between the wall and him while the water dropped on both of them. She took of his shirt and threw it away. Admiring his shape, her hand stroking his body like it was a monument and she was seeing it for the first time. She kissed his chest, his abs, his stomach-- getting lower and lower until her tongue found the tip of his cock. Taking her time there, he guided her, holding on her hair while she had him in her mouth.
He tilted his head back, enjoying every second "Merde taylor-- fuck!" He closed his eyes. Fighting the urge to go deeper in her mouth and letting her continue in her own pace.
When she let him go from between his lips, he felt empty, he felt like he was floating. She got up, eyes meeting his. She was smiling. Continued stroking his pinus with her hand while she kissed him and their kisses her hungry, full of lust, wide open. Both in their own euphoria. Built for one an another. "Jump!" he said in her lips and she obeyed, Jumping and tyung herself around him while he pinned her on the wall and thrust himself in her again. Her body moving up and down the cold wall while rocked in her, second time in a very short time. He helped her take of the jersey finally, letting it fall next to them and dropped his head to her chest. Another orgasm building up for both as their body were stuck on each other on every single way and she was silently praying that he'd stay in her forever.
"You'll be the death of me coach."
"So are you."
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