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dfortrafalgar · 3 days

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I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Chapter 29

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The last thing you and Law were able to fully enjoy together to prepare for the arrival of your babies was setting up the nursery in the second bedroom, after having your friends assist with clearing it out and cleaning up the carpet, that was. Once completed, Law was now hunkered down to a strict schedule of meetings with almost hundreds of people in preparation for the biggest, longest, and most daunting surgery of his life.

But prior to that, he was able to spend an entire day with you, putting together cribs, assembling toys, installing two small dresser sets and changing tables, and organizing all of the baby clothing and supplies you received from your generous friends. You had never seen Law more delighted, except maybe on your wedding day. The way he carefully assembled one of the mobiles and hung it delicately over the top of one of the cribs brought a warm smile to your face. As the days grew closer and closer, the thought of Law holding your babies made your heart flutter more and more.

The room was much smaller than your master bedroom, but it still had ample room as a nursery for two babies. You had taken the opportunity (thanks in part to your lenient lease) to paint both of the walls a simple, muted mint-green color, calming to the eyes and yet still allowing the room to glow with light when the blinds were open. Law had even bought a paper trim decorated with animal prints to place on the highest points of the wall, surrounding the corner where it touched the ceiling. Both cribs were situated in opposite corners of the room, separated by a small window. At the ends of both cribs sat their small dressers where their respective clothing, bedding, and supplies were stored, and above the dressers sat their changing tables and changing mats. The rest of the room was dedicated to storing their plethora of toys until they were old enough to begin playing and exploring their world. In your kitchen, two high chairs were placed against the wall, ready to be used at your table. Two car seats with sturdy handles and foldable sun covers were ready and waiting in your extra closet, along with the folded up double stroller. In your bathroom, Law had installed a small additional storage container for you to keep your unused breastfeeding supplies in, which he insisted on sterilizing three times a week despite not being touched yet. Everything was ready to go, now the only thing left to do was wait.

But now, Law was spending more and more time at the hospital, which you completely understood, but that he lamented over. Before he left every single day, and the second he returned home from however long his shift was, he kissed you on the lips before traveling down and planting two tender kisses against your bump. The bump of which had become quite the hindrance as you approached the 36 week mark. You were at 34 now, and according to Robin, your twins’ organs were fully developed and they’d be able to breathe on their own once born… whenever that was.

And while you were happy to have made it to 34, overjoyed even, the Braxton Hicks contractions were incredibly annoying.

“They are not indicative of labor,” your doctor had said. “Trust me, you’ll know when your contractions go from false alarms to actual labor.”

You took her word for it. But that didn’t make the 30 second increments of sudden cramping rippling across your belly at all hours of the day any better. Sometimes, the pain would subside for an hour or two before coming back in full. And they weren’t agonizingly painful, but they were prevalent enough that it was near impossible to ignore them.

While Law was at work more and more frequently in preparation for the surgery, Shachi and Penguin basically moved in with you. They were walking Bepo, feeding Bepo, playing with Bepo, kissing Bepo, all while you were laying on your couch like a log. A log with a huge belly and spontaneous Braxton Hicks contractions.

“What does Mama want?” Penguin asked from your kitchen, rifling through your pantry.

“Please don’t call me ‘Mama,’” you groaned. It was endearing when Law did it, and very awkward when anyone else did.

“Got it. What does the fat woman on the couch want?” he called back.

“Don’t make me come over there and stab you,” you yelled. “I’m cranky enough as it is.”

Shachi emerged from the bathroom down the hall. “Penguin quit bugging her. That’s my job.”

“You guys are going to make me deliver early,” you snipped.

“Give the poor woman some food,” Shachi demanded, driving a harsh spank against Penguin’s ass through the man’s cargo shorts, resulting in a high-pitched yelp. That finally forced a smile to break out on your face.

“I’m glad to see you two finally came to your senses,” you chided, trying to push yourself up against the armrest of your couch where a pillow was situated against your back to support you. “What’s it like having graduated from roommates to sex?”

“It’s the exact same, but way hotter,” Shachi replied with a mischievous, toothy smile.

“Okay, I’m sorry for calling you fat, please stop talking about my sex with this lunatic,” Penguin groaned, emerging from your pantry with a few unopened boxes of pasta while you and Shachi giggled over his modesty. “How does a simple baked ziti sound?”

You moaned from the couch. “That sounds heavenly.”

Shachi left the kitchen to enter the main living space with you, sitting on the floor with his legs spread and allowing Bepo to crawl onto his lap. “Nervous?” he asked, looking up at you.

Your hands soothed over your belly as another false contraction rippled through you in waves. “More than nervous. But I’ve been trying not to think about it. I’m worried that too much stress will induce labor.” After a brief pause, you added, “I’m worried that everything out of the ordinary will induce labor.”

The redhead hummed beside you, idly stroking the soft fur of Bepo’s head as the dog began to fall asleep on his lap. “Do you have a hospital bag packed?”

You nodded. “Law packed one for me a week ago. It has all of our stuff in it… it’s pretty heavy. He said, ‘If anything happens while I’m away and you have to go into L&D, have either Shachi or Penguin take this to the hospital.’”

“What’s ‘L&D’?” asked Penguin from the kitchen as he dumped two boxes of pasta into a large pot of boiling water.

“Labor and Delivery,” you clarified. “We’re all assuming a lot of this is going to be spontaneous, so there’s no real indication of when I’ll have to go in because… well, we don’t know when I’ll give birth,” you explained. “Most moms with one baby give birth at around 40 weeks, give or take. But with twins, the average is apparently 36. And I’m at 34.”

Shachi whistled through his lips. “So it really could be at any moment.”

“Great time for Law to have to replace a man’s organs, huh?” Penguin piped up from the kitchen.

You laughed. “The timing couldn’t have been better!”

The smell of baked ziti very slowly began to permeate your apartment as Penguin cooked, Shachi doted on Bepo, and you lounged on the couch, standing intermittently to continue to stretch your legs. The contractions didn’t stop, if anything they increased in frequency as time slowly ticked away. And every once in a while, one of your babies would kick against your muscle.

—

Law was fighting with every fiber in his body to stay awake. He was leading his surgical team, for crying out loud. He needed to be front and center for this meeting. He drove the tip of his pencil through his pant leg into the flesh of his thigh to snap him out of his dozed state. God, he needed coffee.

At the front of the conference room, directly in front of where Law sat, was the head of the hospital’s Transplant Transport team, which Law’s team joked was a very humorous name. He was quite a stocky older man with a distended belly that barely fit into the gray dress shirt he had tucked into his slacks. He was going through an itinerary on a pulled-down projector screen.

“The patient, to remind those of you who just arrived, is a 51 year old man with a history of cardiopulmonary failure. He has had two open heart surgeries in the past, and suffered a collapsed lung in his youth. Both he and his family have been willing to try every treatment possible, and that is why we are meeting here today. As far as I am aware, this hospital has never performed a double heart-lung transplant before, am I correct?” He turned his attention to Law, who crossed on leg over his knee, asking silently for the lead surgeon’s approval.

“Correct,” Law affirmed, nodding his head.

“Dr. Trafalgar, would you mind walking your team through the procedure step-by-step?” the man asked, stepping aside to allow Law room to stand up in front of the packed conference room.

With a silenced grunt, Law stood up and smoothed his white doctor’s coat over his chest. He took a deep breath and turned to face the room. In front of him, every seat at the table and scattered chairs against the wall were filled by his surgery team, ICU nurses and doctors, hospital technicians involved with the case, and members of the Transplant Transport team. “The surgery is scheduled to begin at 8:00 AM on May 12th. That morning, a helicopter will be arriving with the heart and lungs from the donor patient, where they will then be transported by the transplant team to our operating room and hooked up to an artificial body where they’ll be kept living while we remove the damaged tissue from our recipient. A coronary bypass machine will be used to keep the patient alive while his organs are removed and replaced. This is the simple explanation, whenever everyone’s ready, I will begin discussing the more heavy aspects of the procedure.”

A few nods and curt words of consent were shared amongst the room. Law took a deep breath and began speaking once more.

—

You were sitting naked on your bed, having just gotten out of the shower, when your phone started buzzing on your bedside table. Your husband’s name popped up, immediately making you smile.

“Hey, baby!” you called into the receiver. “How’d the presentation meeting go?”

A long, pent up sigh was heard through the speaker, making your heart pang with sympathy. [About as good as it could’ve. It’s hard explaining a 15 hour surgery to a group of 50-some-odd people.]

“Do you think your team is ready for it?” you asked, using one hand to slather moisturizing lotion onto your knees and calves.

[I think so. I mean, I damn hope so. I’ve had a lot of my nurses and team members review the same materials I’ve been studying to make sure everyone is on the same page. As the day gets closer, I’m having my assistants complete simulated operations on their down time.]

“You can do that?”

[It’s a teaching hospital, we’ve got plenty of equipment.]

You grinned, dropping your legs and falling backward onto your bed, rubbing your belly with one hand while your other held your phone to your ear. “Well, that’s good.”

Law’s voice hummed in agreement. You heard him take another deep breath. [I miss you.]

A part of you wanted to joke that he was only about five minutes away, but you knew what he meant. He was missing the last few weeks of your pregnancy, something he had wanted to avoid since the two of you started trying for a baby. It was vital to him that he was there to support you, to protect you, but once again, he wasn’t. He was kept away from you by his taxing job, a job that he loved with a deep passion, but one that fought with his unwavering commitment to you.

Instead of commenting something witty in response, you replied with, “I know… I do too.” A thought came into your mind, something you had read earlier in the day while your friends were out with your dog. “Hey… Law?”

[Yeah, baby?]

“I know it’s hard to ask this over the phone but… I read online that parents with twins are more likely to suffer relationship breakdown.”

Law seemed to know what you were alluding to immediately, even without you having to explicitly state your worry. [Remember everything I’ve been telling you? About how much I love you and how that’s not going to change at any point?]

A smile tugged to your lips. “Yeah…”

[Relationships break down because of stress. But we’re good at working things out together. We jump through hurdles at the same time because we communicate and we love each other. That’s not going to change with babies. Even with two new mouths to feed instead of one.]

“Your words always help me feel better,” you sighed into the receiver. “I love you.”

[Get some rest, sleeping beauty. I love you, too, always.]

—

34 weeks turned into 35.

The waiting was starting to take years off of your life, you thought.

Shachi and Penguin had bunked up in your living room. You only saw your husband about three times while he prepared religiously for the operation.

Somewhere at another hospital, a comatose man was being prepped and signed off to be removed from life support and have his organs harvested. And ten minutes from your apartment, a middle-aged man with his own family was getting ready to receive them.

And you were carrying two babies in your womb. Two babies who, according to your very last ultrasound, were both facing head-first toward your cervix. It was looking like a completely natural birth would be possible, as long as no complications arose in the moment.

Hopefully, according to your latest health workup, everything would be fine. Your blood pressure had remained steady throughout your pregnancy, all of your blood panel conditions had been very healthy. Your body felt ready, if the constant Braxton Hicks contractions were anything to go off of.

It was just. The. Waiting.

Your journal was almost completed. You only had two more pages before your prompts switched to journaling the post-birthing experience.

You uncapped your pen and began writing.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

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soaps-mohawk · 26 days

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise.

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes.

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom.

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine.

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past.

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface.

Even he can’t protect you from this.

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing.

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem.

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry.

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one.

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep.

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness.

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned.

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?”

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.”

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief.

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades.

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.”

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.”

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.”

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake.

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it.

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what.

You might never get to know.

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep.

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent.

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you.

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed.

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons.

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.”

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any.

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.”

You can only imagine how that went.

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously.

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door.

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own.

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.”

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between.

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..”

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you.

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do.

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does.

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”

“You're tired.”

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright.

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm.

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again?

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response.

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say.

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger.

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well.

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask.

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own.

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago.

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.”

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position.

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over.

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.”

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run.

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him.

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious.

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.”

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing?

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good.

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good?

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil.

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head.

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady.

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.”

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired.

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.”

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch.

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too.

All he's waiting on is you saying the word.

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something.

The thought makes you want to cry.

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump.

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?”

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book.

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being.

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face.

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal.

You need to rectify this, and fast.

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety.

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory.

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door.

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?”

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.”

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back.

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.”

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line.

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news.

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?”

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you.

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes.

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.”

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin.

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers.

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours.

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.”

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver.

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it.

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip.

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look.

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room.

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly.

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.”

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him.

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal.

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved.

Well, you suppose he is.

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much.

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you.

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh.

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg.

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt.

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric.

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him.

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?”

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?”

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you.

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely.

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread.

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you.

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans.

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets.

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.”

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation.

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you.

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips.

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage.

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you.

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position.

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk.

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers.

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth.

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin.

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday.

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.”

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs.

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand.

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm.

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips.

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other.

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length.

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his.

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.”

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position.

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck.

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat.

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life.

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.”

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again.

You’re in for a long night.

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #john price x reader #captain price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gax x reader

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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months

Text

[To be loved is to be changed. And while being married to you has changed Mihawk, it's not entirely for the better. He's a possessive and protective lover to the marrow of his bones.]

(TW for unwanted sexual comments)

Mihawk knew the name 'Shantaro' quite well. Any time you told him a story from your adolescence that revolved around borderline illegal, unethical or simply reckless adventures, Shantaro was there. The little devil on your shoulder but as reliable as a true angel.

He, however, never expected you to run into Shantaro on the odd night when the two of you can go out. Comfortably basking in your presence, Mihawk is thoroughly enjoying your undivided attention.

Until.

You're suddenly rendered speechless as you notice something - someone - over his shoulder. A wide smile spreads across your face. Mihawk is unsure whether he should rejoice with how beautiful you look or seethe, knowing that another person dared to distract you from him.

"It's Shantaro!" you squeal excitedly. "I'm sorry, love, I'll be just a moment. I haven't seen her in ages!"

Mihawk doesn't even try to stop you as you make your way through the crowd at the lounge. His watchful gaze follows your steps as you approach a stringy woman in a silver dress. A hurricane of black curls sits on top of her head. Her piercing, grey eyes notice you, suddenly widening with both surprise and happiness. The two of you engulf each other in a bone-crushing hug, silently exchanging feelings of longing towards the closest friend from younger years.

The swordsman's night, however, is about to get even worse as he hears someone behind him whisper:

"She's a minx, that foxy wife of yours."

He turns around with his jaw and fists clenched. Mihawk's enraged gaze meets the face of an amused man who is casually sipping on his drink. There's a glint in the stranger's eyes that makes the swordsman's skin crawl - he wanted to get under Dracule's skin.

"Don't look so surprised," the stranger reprimands him. The man must have mistaken Mihawk's baffled expression at the bold words for genuine surprise that someone put two and two together. Truthfully, he couldn't care less whether people know that he's married. "Many pirates get hard fantasising about having their way with the Warlord's wife." Judging by the way the man licks his lips and hides a certain hunger behind his eyes, it's clear he's part of the aforementioned group. "But the Warlord himself? Unfortunately for him, she turns him soft," he drones the word as though it's a serious insult.

"Yes, she does," Mihawk answers slowly.

The events that followed happened exceptionally fast: Mihawk reached for the stranger's neck and slammed the man's head against the bar counter. Curiously, people happening to be in their vicinity carry on as though nothing bizarre is happening - they are smart enough not to get in Dracule Mihawk's way, especially when he is visibly upset.

Blood is gushing from the strange man's forehead, his eye already beginning to swell and change colour. The swordsman tilted his victim's head back just enough to lean down and growl. "Which is why I'm going to kill you much faster than you deserve for your offence."

Mihawk glances in your direction. You're still occupied, excitedly telling Shantaro about the years after you've last met her.

He'll be done before you notice him gone.

3K notes · View notes

talaok · 19 days

Text

The sweetest remedy

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!pregnant!reader

summary: Joel has a bad day at work, but you know how to make him forget all about it

warnings: Joel is very much in love with his pregnant wife, a bunch of fluff, smut| oral sex (f receiving), Joel takes care of himself but you still swallow, fluffy smut, Joel being the pussy eating king that he is

"what's wrong?"

He'd taken one step into the house and you could already tell something was off

His forehead was creased with lines of annoyance and exhaustion, and by the way he was discarding his boots and jacket you knew he was pissed.

You were on the couch, your body turned towards the entrance, towards him, the tv muted behind you

"nothin'" he grumbled, setting his keys on the counter

"baby" you cooed, pouting softly "c'mere"

And of course, he did

Seeing you was all that made him survive these types of shitty days at work

Especially when he knew you'd be waiting for him in those flimsy summer dresses you loved to wear in the summer,

and especially since he'd gotten your belly to swell with the gift of a child.

You were five months in, and he fell in love with you all over again every time he looked at you

He had you straddling his lap the moment he sat down, his hands on your waist and his eyes all over you.

"tell me what's wrong," you asked again

You hated seeing him all troubled, he deserved nothing but happiness this man of yours,

because that's what he brought to you every single day

He sighed, before nodding slowly

"it's jus' the guys at work babygirl," he said "nothin' you gotta worry about"

you didn't pay attention to the last part

"What did they do this time?" you asked, softly caressing his chest to try and soothe him

"one of 'em didn't show" he grunted, the palms of his rough hands starting their journey from your pregnant belly to your butt and thighs

"Again?" you raised your eyebrows, annoyed too now "I don't understand why you don't just fire them and get new guys"

The first little smile since he first came home tugged at his lips

"what a coldhearted little boss you'd make" he joked, smirking softly.

You rolled your eyes, biting down a grin of your own

"you know I'm right"

He pushed you even closer to him before responding, wanting to feel more of you, all of you

"I know you are babygirl" he nodded, his forehead to yours now "but you know how I am... I know these guy's stories and evrythin'- I jus' don't have it in me"

Ah that's right

Who could have ever expected such a rough and tough exterior to be hiding such a softie

"you're too nice for your own good, Miller" You couldn't help but smile, softly kissing his cheek

He only grunted in response, losing himself in the scent and feel of you

"'m gonna have a talk with him Monday, I'll see what he has to say for himself"

You nodded, watching him closely

"that's a good idea" you murmured as you let him guide your mouth to his, impatiently kissing you as he'd dreamed of doing since he took the first step out of the house this morning.

You let him taste you, his tongue in your mouth and his beard against your skin, until you both needed air and had to lean away

But something seemed still off, usually, he only needed to feel your lips on his to forget all about his day, but today... today that little shadow in his eyes was still lurking in his iris

"baby" you pouted, your hands reaching for his cheeks to gently take his face in your hands "what can I do to make you feel better?"

And in retrospect, you didn't even know why you asked,

Your husband might have been a gentleman and a hard worker and everything else in this entire world... but he still was just a man.

A man that happened to love the taste of his wife more than anything on this earth

Which is why he didn't waste a moment before murmuring

"y'know what I need babydoll"

God but the way his voice always dropped an octave and that sweet southern drawl got more noticeable every time he needed you was more than enough to impregnate you all over again

"you're insatiable, Miller" you shook your head, laughing that light laugh of yours that made him feel summer breeze and sunshine all over him even on the coldest day of winter

But he didn't laugh, oh no, Joel Miller didn't laugh, he only looked at you, admired you, as you made your decision

"alright" you smiled, getting off his lap with a low groan, before laying on the couch, propping a pillow on the armrest so you could set your head on it to not have your belly cover the best part of the show, which of course, was your husband between your thighs.

just like he was now.

Good Christ and heaven all tougher did he look fucking hot like that,

his eyes fixed on your clothed core, his pupils big and dark with lust, his hands gripping the outside of your legs, his breathing almost as quick as yours...

His eyes found yours as his nose plummeted to your core, his nostrils flaring as he did what would make any woman self-conscious,( that was of course, if they weren't married to such a depraved and pussy obsessed man), he smelled you, he smelled you like you would with a good meal before devouring it, the tip of his nose ever so gently rubbing against your clit in the process.

You whimpered like you always did, and, like he always did, he only continued with his torture.

His tongue felt good even though the soaked material

"Joel" you whined now, as he licked slowly and thoroughly,

He resisted the urge to make you come like that, although he'd proved times and times before that he very well could,

he only stopped when there wasn't a spot on your underwear that wasn't drenched, and your chest was rising and falling faster than the speed of light

That, only that, was when his fingers reached for the fabric covering your core and pulled it to the side, his eyes falling to the work of art between your legs

he didn't say anything, he couldn't, he only groaned before he was devouring you whole

"oh my f-" you cried, your back arching from the couch as his hand seeped underneath your dress to get to your belly, his eyes finding yours again "f-fucking god baby"

He groaned again, his tongue drinking up everything you gave him, swirling over your clit over and over again, getting you utterly desperate just to tease you and fall to your hole, threatening to enter and forcing a gasp out of your mouth

your thighs squeezed around his head just like he liked it, robbing him of almost all oxygen as he buried his whole face into your weeping cunt.

"Joel- baby- p-please"

but he was back at sucking your clit, and all the words in your vocabulary got replaced by mindless, animalistic moans as one of your hands shot to his hair, gripping his hazel locks tightly as your hips started grinding onto his face, his nose, his mustache, his everything

And fuck if he didn't love it, if he didn't live to see you use him for your own pleasure, drenching his face and the couch beneath you with all your sweet juices as you whimpered and moaned what alternated between curses and his name with that irresistible desperate voice of yours.

Yeah, there was nothing that could ever beat this,

the feeling that he got every time you came apart like this was something that could have only been described as a glimpse of heaven, with the angels singing and everything too.

"f-fuck" he knew that high pitch cry, oh he knew it really fucking well "baby I-"

And you didn't even have to tell him, he already knew.

He continued feasting on your pussy, letting you chase your own high, and before you knew it, your head was thrown back and a wildfire of pleasure spread through your whole body, from your toes to the ends of your fucking hair.

You would have guessed you'd just run a marathon by how fast your heart was beating

"you're the most gorgeous woman on this planet" Joel murmured more to himself as he kissed the inside of your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, before crawling up to ghost your lips "with the sweetest fuking pussy too"

You could only let out a silly laugh before he kissed you, letting you have a taste of that sweetness.

But when you didn't feel him grind what you knew must have been a rock hard erection underneath his jeans, on your core like he usually did, you frowned, as you watched him sit up instead

"baby?" your forehead creased even more in puzzlement once you watched him undo his zipper and pull out his aching cock, not looking even remotely interested in making a move to position himself at your entrance

"what are you doing?" you finally asked, sitting up too now

He wrapped a hand around his dick as he answered

"You're still sore from this mornin'"

What does that have to do with anything?

"but-"

He shook his head, watching you closely with that honest care that he only showed you "no but" he declared "I don't wanna hurt you babygirl"

And although you would have liked to argue, you knew that since you'd gotten pregnant, his protective side had somehow gotten even more hard-headed, and changing his mind was damn near impossible, which is why what you did instead, was change the tactic

"I still have hands... or a mouth, you know?" you cocked an eyebrow, eyeing his manhood

You didn't miss the way his member twitched ever so little at the proposal,

but then again, he had always refused you going down on him since the pregnancy, not because he didn't want to, fuck- god only knew the unspeakable things he'd do to let that pretty mouth of yours take care of him, no, the reason was he simply didn't want you to go through all that just for him, for his insignificant pleasure.

"All you gotta do is just sit there and look pretty, sugar" he murmured, finally starting to stroke himself, groaning lowly as he did

Your breathing faltered at the image, his large hands fisting his cock hard, stroking up and down in a way that looked incredibly natural and incredibly intimate at the same time.

And even if he'd ignored your proposal, you couldn't help but smile before pressing a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse was fighting against his skin.

And while you did that, now softly peking every inch of skin not covered by his shirt, you started undoing the straps of your dress, letting them fall down with the top of it once you were done

"like this?" you asked, biting down a smirk as Joel let out a desperate moan at the image before him.

God your tits looked even fucking better now, so full, so soft, so- so fucking perfect

"sweet Jesus" he groaned, his eyes panning between your mouth and your boobs as his strokes got faster, more desperate

You felt his hand sneak up your body and finding your tits, grabbing at them softly, gently caressing each one with all the care and amazement in the word, until he was whispering, begging "fucking-come here" and pulled your mouth to his, leaving a wet, filthy kiss on your lips as he continued palming your front.

the sound from his work on his dick was obscene, but neither of you cared, especially when the words coming out of your mouth happened to be even obscene.

"You're close?" you asked, feeling his heavy breath fanning over your mouth

"yeah doll"

You kissed him again quickly before speaking

"come inside my mouth baby"

Again, Joel Miller might have been as incredible as you wanted... but he still remained only a man,

a man who had to fight with everything he had in himself not to bust his load right there

"Good fucking Christ-" he groaned, closing his eyes as he threw his head back "fuck me"

"I would if you'd let me" you joked, placing another kiss beneath his ear

He laughed softly, opening his eyes to find yours "you want me to come in your mouth sugar?"

"yes" you nodded without missing a beat "I need it" you cooed, stroking his beard as his breathing became more and more uneven, his cock on the verge of exploding

"I need you to fill me up baby, if not my pussy, my throat at least"

"fuck"

you always knew what to say to get him going

"fucking- damnit" he groaned, tugging hurriedly at his cock as he ordered you to "don't move- open your mouth" until he was kneeling beside you on the couch, grunting and moaning soft curses or that's it-good girl, looking down lovingly at you till his warm seed was filling your whole mouth.

It took him a moment to come back to life, to the real word, but before he knew it, you were kissing as he held you close to his chest.

"Feeling better?" you finally asked

"I don't even remember what I was mad about babydoll"

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 14 days

Text

bluetooth j.t.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: A little suggestive if you squint

Word Count: 1.2k words

You don't know how you allowed yourself to get manipulated into being a girlboss and moving out of your childhood home to live in your own apartment. While it was nice to have your own privacy and decorate your home however you liked, you realized just how many privileges you lost now that you weren't in the care of your parents.

There was no one there to make sure you woke up on time in the few cases where you slept through your alarm, no one that you could call on your way back from work to ask to switch on the water heater so you could take a steamy shower immediately.

You didn't have your mother's homecooked meals and you didn't have your father to pick you up snacks from the grocery store.

And one of the biggest thorns in your side was the reason you were dreading the entire day. Car maintenance. The auto shop was one of the most daunting places in your life as a girl who knew nothing about cars. Never once had you regretted not learning how to take care of your car or even the procedure required when you eventually take your car down to the auto shop.

But now standing in the hot and dusty garage, you were seriously rethinking your life choices. You should've scheduled these things for when your dad was visiting so you could ask him to take it instead. Or, even better, you should've gotten a boyfriend.

You were complaining in your head, dragging your feet about having to be here in the first place and whined about handing your car keys, with a bunch of adorable keychains attached to some rando.

But when Jason Todd, 6'2 man with biceps that were larger than your own head and a body that looked like he was shaped out of marble by Michelangelo himself walked out with a form for you to fill out, you were all too happy to be there.

Perhaps you'd be leaving here with a boyfriend after all.

"I have to admit, I don't really know much about cars so please don't scam me."

Jason chuckled, a deep, hoarse laugh that made you a little weak in the knees honestly and the boy-crazed fraction of your brain began to imagine how he would sound as soon as he woke up next to you, after a night of—

"A bit of advice, you probably don't want to let scammers know that you have no idea what they're talking about."

You giggled, scolding yourself mentally for finding that funny.

'Come on, (Y/N), pull yourself together it wasn't even that funny. His face is just great delivery.'

"Or I could keep coming here and have you check my car, since you're so trustworthy." You mused, sparing him a teasing smile.

Jason was completely picking up what you were putting down, giving you a coy smile of his own before responding, "Or perhaps this is just a tactic to get you to keep coming back."

You narrowed your eyes playfully, "Devious."

Looking back at his little clipboard, a thin metal rod of some kind tucked behind his ear instead of a pen, Jason asked, "When was the last time you got your car checked out? If your battery and brake pad was replaced recently, we could probably skip that and just do a routine check to make sure everything's running smoothly."

You winced, "I couldn't tell you, honestly. My dad usually handles this kinda stuff for me, I'm still kind of a new lamb when it comes to taking care of my car."

Jason raised his eyes from the clipboard for a second, "Your boyfriend can't do this kinda stuff for you instead?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

He perked up immediately and you ducked your head to hide your smile, "I'm sure you probably have a record of it in your glovebox or something. Most places keep a little sticker with the date of your last service under the dash. I'll check it out for you, do you have somewhere to be, or do you have a couple minutes so I can make sure?"

You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders with a carefree smile, "It's my day off so I'm free as a bird."

He grinned, "Noted. Just give me a second."

You watched his back receding as he walked toward your car, shoulders looking like they could span the entire ocean and it was only when he was sat in the car and had turned on the engine did you whip out your phone at lightspeed.

"Ohmygosh Julie, I think I just met my future husband. Holy shit. He's so cute—gorgeous actually. He's working on my car right now and God, those arms, wow. And those eyes? God, I feel blessed just by looking at his face." The end of your message was interrupted by another mechanic running the engine.

You waited patiently for the sound of the engine to die before replaying the voice message so you could re-record the part that got cut off. Only you couldn't hear a thing.

Confused, you increased the volume, taking a sip from your coffee to soothe the inhumane squeal that you had let out while sending Julie the voice message. Once again you heard nothing.

You bit your lip at this, swiping down at the corner of your phone at access your control center and realizing the reason you couldn't hear anything was because it was connected to the Bluetooth on your car.

Wait.

THE CAR?!

You whipped around in horror only to find Jason smirking at you from the front seat of your car. If the world were fair, you'd be struck down with lightning right then and there. Or, since you were at an auto shop, a sentient car might run you over.

Alas, you continued to stand there in horror, completely unharmed no matter how badly you wished to be reduced to a puddle on the ground.

You called him your future husband. The ground should've swallowed you then and there. Instead, you just stood there in complete mortification and embarrassment while you stared at his amused expression.

Something startled him out of his gaze for a second and he pointed at your console, making a gesture like he was taking a call. Confused, you glanced at your phone.

'Incoming call: Julie'

Ah, saved by the bell.

"How much do I owe you?" You asked, quickly popping open your purse to fish out your credit card. You had stretched out the conversation with Julie as long as possible, begging her not to hang up and only interrupting her tangent when Jason finally came up to you, saying that your car was good to go.

"It's on the house." He gave you a charming grin, leaning an arm against the counter, "Can't have my future wife paying for anything, can I?"

Your cheeks flared red, still holding out your card for him to take, "O-Oh, I couldn't, really."

"If you insist, then you can always repay me with dinner. Today's your day off, right? Think you can pencil me in for 7?"

A shy smile grew on your face, your body so warm you had to resist fanning your burning cheeks, "Sounds like a plan."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

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daegall · 4 months

Text

☆ macrocosm

➷ in which Luke would send you the sun and every asteroid, and you'd send him the moon and the stars.

pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slight angst, established relationship!AU

warnings: one tiny injury, some cheesiness, and um issues with parents? also reader is implied to be female!!

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: hi all!!! my first time (and probably last LOL) time writing anything pjo :000 unless my brainrot gets bigger, i think this is the only thing i will only release, I hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry if I made any mistakes!! dont hesitate to tell me if i did or if i forgot to add a warning ^^ have a great day and merry late christmas!!!

Luke Castellan is a great source of your happiness.

Whether it be bringing you a small snack while you work endlessly in the infirmary, or sitting there with you, waiting for you to finally be free of work to finally have a chat with you, with the biggest smile on his lips.

Or it could be from how he always strives to protect you, jumping right in the middle of an attack during capture the flag.

"I can handle myself, Luke." You'd tell him.

He believes you. Every bit of his being believes you. You're amazing with a sword, even more with a bow. Yet something in him pushes him to shield you from any form of danger.

Even when you feel the need to be annoyed at him, in the slightest. His sheepish, almost apologetic smile he gives you pulls at your heartstrings, like a magnet. To be honest, you'd surrender your entire being for him, you'd send him the moon and the stars if he asked you to. You just love him too much.

However, Luke Castellan is also sometimes (never) a pain in your ass.

Such as now, as he once again, shoots you a sheepish smile as he shows up at the entrance of the infirmary.

"What are you doing here?" You question him instantly. Although you have a rough scrunch in your eyebrows, and your arms are crossed, Luke knows you like the back of his hand.

The way your fingers fiddle lightly with the loose string of your orange T-shirt shows how you're genuinely worried, and there's just the slightest curl at your lips that he catches.

Luke pouts at you. You ought to punch him at how cute he looks.

"What? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?"

You scoff, but don't distance yourself from him when he walks forward to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not when I'm pretty sure you have counselor duties,"

Warmth spreads through you, a familiar, nostalgic one. Such as a warm home, or a campfire, it ripples through your soul and body, as Luke's fingertips caress you gently.

"I got hurt," He replies simply.

As expected, his words cause you to pull away almost immediately, your hands cupping around his cheeks softly, as you tilt his head to check every surface of his skin.

Although Luke hates making you worry, he adores the way you care for him.

With a sly smirk, Luke raises his index finger slowly, watching as your eyes trail from his own, to his hand, and finally, the small cut on his finger.

In an instant, you push Luke away playfully, huffing in relief. "You idiot! I thought you were hurt!"

"But you don't understand," He sighs dramatically. Your lips curl up from his overexaggerated sad expression, holding a hand to his heart. "how much my heart hurts when I'm away from you,"

With a roll of your eyes, you step away from your boyfriend, walking to the other side of the infirmary to grab a bandaid. Luke follows you, as if a magnet, watching and admiring your every move.

He watches as you unwrap the bandaid, adores you as you wrap it around his finger carefully, and if he could, he would praise you as you place a small kiss on top of it. Praise you more than he's ever praised to his father, or any other god.

"Better?"

And when he looks in your eyes, he sees his whole universe. Doesn't matter if he's a human, or half god, or if the whole mystical world existed in the universe. As long as it had you, he knew he'd yearn for it for eternity.

And suddenly, there's a flicker. Luke doesn't know how he notices it, not when it's there for only the slightest moment, but he doesn't care.

You're sad.

Another great thing about your great boyfriend, he loves to comfort you.

His fingers caress lightly at the skin of your cheek, frowning worriedly. "Are you okay?"

You're surprised at his attention to the smallest details, confusion evident on your face. "How did you—"

"—I just know, baby," He chuckles. "now tell me, are you okay?"

You can't explain it. But you try, for Luke. You'd do anything for him.

"My dad," You start. This time, it's Luke's heartstrings that are pulled dangerously at. He knows how complicated your relationship with your dad is—hell, everyone at camp has a complicated relationship with their God parent!

Luke's thumb strokes your cheek dearly, urging you to continue.

"He... visited my sibling? I guess? I mean, not directly but, yeah,"

You are a person who's strong, who's always put together, even more so when you have to take care of people every day. Seeing you so... hurt, so vulnerable and weak, Luke wants to curse at Apollo himself, but knows better. He's not worth it. You, however, Luke will stay and wait forever for.

"He visited my brother in a dream. They had a whole conversation, caught up, and I'm happy for him, I am! I just—" You can't keep your lip from wobbling, your heart shaking just at the thought of what your brother had told the whole cabin just this morning.

They were all happy, so were you, asking him countless questions and eager to know how their father is doing, but you can't help but feel jealous.

Luke nods in understanding as you tell him this.

"I mean, he visits my brother, has a whole conversation with him all night in his dream... and he can barely spare a single word for me? What, not even a sign the he cares, that he's here?"

And when tears cascade down your cheek, Luke wants to destroy Olympus with his own bare hands. Maybe for another day, for now, he'll coo and bring you into his embrace, stroking at your back affectionately.

"It's okay baby, it's just me. Let it all out,"

Pent up stress from the week, added with your jealousy and confusion results in a full sob into your lover's shoulder, as he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear.

"I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Your soul cleanses from the hatred and envy, replaced with the love and care that Luke provides, feeling safety and solace in his embrace alone.

"I'm sorry for burdening you like this,"

Luke's heart nearly physically cracks at your words, even more at your defeated eyes peering up at him.

He shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "Don't be sorry, baby," He mumbles, before pressing another kiss to your cheeks, pecking away your tears. "you could never burden me."

Finally, immense joy and love resonates through you, as it radiates off Luke and onto you, like the sun shines its rays onto earth, you feel complete with him.

"Thank you," You breathe out, staring into Luke's eyes with the most gratitude and love. And once again, he sees those eyes. The eyes that hold his universe, the eyes he'd yearn for forever. And when he leans down to connect your lips in a soft, loving kiss, he knows he will yearn them forever.

You'd send the moon and all the stars his way.

Luke would go to hell and back for you, he'd destroy Olympus for you. He'd be your sun and every asteroid, and you his moon and stars. Together, you'd have your own little universe, just for the two of you. Doesn't matter if you're human, or demigod, as long as he has you, and you have him, it'll forever be complete.

#luke castellan imagines #pjo series #luke castellan #luke pjo #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #luke pjo x reader #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan fluff

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luveline · 7 months

Note

Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k

cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme

"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed.

Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."

"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy."

"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star."

You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine.

"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look.

"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?"

"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back.

He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight.

Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem.

"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better.

You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.

Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity.

He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can.

"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?"

"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me."

"In that case, I'm staying right here."

You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to."

Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never.

He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—

"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?"

"Nowhere. I'm here."

Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. I love you."

"I love you," you say.

There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words.

"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone.

"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant."

"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled.

"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.

"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over.

"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms.

You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom.

"What are you–"

"I'm gonna take a test."

"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?"

You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy.

You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his.

Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good."

"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously.

Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant.

"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.

He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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motherlvr · 10 months

Text

love me better, listen more.

wc: 3.2k

Pairing: Earth-42! Miles Morales x f! reader

Summary: After Miles' father died, everything changed. Including your relationship with Miles.

Warnings: angst w/ happy ending, cursing, friends to strangers to lovers, angry makeout session, Flash Thompson exists here

A/N: honestly my fav fic i've made so far, im literally running out of photos for him. im gunna have to start using photos of his jordans

As you walked home, an arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind, "¿Cómo está mi ángel hoy?" Miles’ voice flowed through your ears.

He called you his, but you weren't lovers.

You were slightly startled but immediately recognized him. Letting out a soft chuckle, you said, “Your ángel, huh? That’s a new one.” smiling up at him.

"It suits you." Miles gave you a wink.

Usually, he called you 'ma'. So his switch-up today made you narrow your eyes at him skeptically. "What's with the good mood today? No 'ma'?" You tilted your head at him.

Shrugging it off, he said, "What, I can't be happy to see my girl?" He had a point, except for the fact that you weren't his girl.

You laughed and shook your head at him, "By all means, go ahead." As he accompanied you on your way home, you realized he made your walk home much more pleasant. Arriving at your house, you told him "This is me. Thanks for walking me today." You gave him a light peck on his cheek.

"Course. Make sure to wear that outfit I like tomorrow, mami." He teased with a grin, only half serious.

Rolling your eyes at him, you smiled, "You're insufferable. Adiós, Miles!" You waved as you walked up to your doorstep.

"Chao, princesa." Walking away, his mood felt lighter. He walked home with a little more liveliness than usual.

For reasons unknown, Miles walking you home was becoming a reoccurring event. Within the next few weeks, he walked you home more often than not. You started to look forward to it as you searched for him after school.

As you both walked down the street of your neighborhood for what seemed to be the hundredth time, you approached your house. As you both stood in front of your house, you turned to him and said, "Thanks for walking me home, Miles." You placed a kiss on his cheek. It seemed to be turning into a daily routine now.

"Anytime, princesa. Hasta luego." He smirked at you and watched you walk into your house before leaving.

Little did you know, that would be the last time he walked you home in a while.

Later that evening, you kicked your feet up on your couch and turned on the television. The first channel that popped up was the news channel. Reading the headline, your heart dropped into your stomach. It read,

"Police Captain Jefferson Davis Found Dead At 44.”

"Holy shit." You gasped. In an instant, you dropped the remote and tried to contact Miles. You tried calling but were sent immediately to voicemail. So you opted to text him, "I'm so sorry, Miles. I'm always here if you need to talk."

You left him multiple messages that night to no avail. The following day at school, you tried to scout him out in the halls. But he was never there. You would call if you thought he would answer.

Miles and you always confided in each other. There was a mutual trust between the two of you. However, within less than twenty-four hours, Miles' demeanor completely changed.

Leaving him another message after school, you said, "Where have you been? I'm worried, Miles. But you know that already. Sorry for the messages."

No response yet again. He didn't even bother to read it.

Weeks passed by with little to no contact from Miles. He seemed to entirely disappear. Your concern only grew for him. You haven't even seen him in the hallways at school. There was no denying it, you were starting to miss him.

Although, today was a new day. And for the first time in what felt like a century, you saw him in the hall. He looked a fright. There were new frown lines on his face that weren't there before. He looked slimmer, even. His smug smirk that would always adorn his face around you was no longer present. Your eyes lit up at the sight of him nonetheless. Jogging up to him, you called out.

"Miles, wait." You softly said as you delicately grabbed his arm, not to startle him. He paused, looking back but not into your eyes. He shook your grip off, never making eye contact with you. "I just need some time, alright?" He told you. But what does 'some time' entail? What if he just didn't want anything to do with you in general?

He walked away and didn’t look back.

You felt your heart break into two as you watched him fade away from your view. It broke for both him and you. Seeing him like this pained you. But at the same time, your heart ached as he pushed you away in the process.

Yet, you granted him his wish. You stopped looking for him in the hall. You stopped trying to message him. You stopped leaving voicemails. Maybe if you gave him some time, things would smooth out. Grief is a long process, after all. You couldn't blame him for grieving.

Weeks turned into months without any contact from Miles. And it didn't seem like he was going to break that any time soon.

You fell back into your old routine, the one where you'd never met Miles. He was merely a stranger that you thought too often about. You walked home without him next to you. And into class alone as well. You no longer looked forward to walking with him at the end of the day. The walks home were infuriatingly quiet.

Every day you arrived at your doorstep but never felt at home. You had a home, and he was it.

-----------

While you were getting books out of your locker, an arm slung around your shoulders. An almost familiar sensation. But it wasn't him. Far from him, actually.

Instead, it was no one other than Flash Thompson. His notorious blond hair and conceited attitude were tell-tale signs. You could almost smell the arrogance radiating off of him before you even acknowledged his presence.

"How are you, gorgeous?" He removed his arm from your shoulders to close your locker. Leaning his arm onto the locker above your head, he encased you on your locker with your back against it.

"I'm fine." You dryly responded, uninterested in his pursuits.

"That you are." He gave you a predatory smirk and winked at you. You mentally grimaced. "Anyway. You still with that Morales kid?"

Raising a brow at him, you respond, "We were never together.”

"Huh. He's always by your side, like an over-protective guard dog. So I assumed." Flash said. He wasn’t necessarily wrong. But that wasn't the case anymore. It hasn't been for some time.

This was one of the many times Flash had tried his advances on you. However, it never worked to his intentions since Miles was always there to tell him off. This time was different. Miles was nowhere in sight. At least, within your sight. Meaning Flash had an open opportunity with you. There was no Miles around to try and bite his head off.

"Yeah, well. Not anymore." You muttered. Suddenly feeling awkward, you directed your stare anywhere other than Flash's hungry gaze. An uncomfortable cold shiver ran down your spine.

Flash leaned in, his fingers pushing a strand of your hair away from your face. Whispering in your ear, he told you, "That's too bad. I could treat you better than him, though. He doesn't have to know, baby.”

You looked up at him and tried to hide the disgust that was forming on your face. But, hey. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, you tried to convince yourself. This was a chance to get over Miles. His hold on you was ridiculous, considering you were never actually together. You weren’t going to wait for him to crawl back to you.

You put a hand on Flash’s chest in an attempt to push him away from you. But he misinterpreted it and encased his palm over your hand that was laying on his chest. “See? You’re warming up to me already. You don’t need him.” He cockily said.

Turning your head away from him, you said, “I don’t know, Flash. I’ll think about it.” pretending to consider it. He gave you a displeased look, "What's there to think about? We would be good together, babe." he tried to persuade you. It was evident that he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Miles turned around the corner and instantly spotted you. He’s been skipping almost every day. All of a sudden, he felt glad that he didn’t skip today as he saw you with Flash Thompson. Way too close for his comfort. And then he saw your hand on Flash’s chest. That was his breaking point.

Miles saw nothing but red as he walked over to the two of you. If looks could kill, Flash would've been dealt with by the first second he walked around the corner. He sneered, "Back the fuck off my girl, Thompson." shoving him in the chest away from you.

You couldn’t believe him. After all that time, now is when he decides to make an appearance. He was the one that cut you out of his life. Not you, but him. Huffing at him, you spoke up before Flash did. "I'm not your girl. You've made that clear." You rolled your eyes in irritation.

Flash gave Miles a smug smirk at your words, "You heard her. So go fuck yourself, Morales." He spat at Miles, getting up close and personal with him. As Flash glared at Miles, it was clear he was trying to intimidate him. It wasn't working.

You almost didn't comprehend what was happening as a fist collided with Flash's face, knocking him down momentarily. He groaned in pain, holding onto his nose as blood dripped from it.

“What the fuck?” You screeched at Miles’ outburst. Flash was still laying on the floor, stumbling to get up. Before it could escalate further, you pulled Miles by his arm and dragged him into an empty supply closet. Miles opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"The fuck is wrong with you, Miles? You don't speak to me for months and now you suddenly want something to do with me?" You said in disbelief.

He said bluntly, "I don't want to see you with him again."

His hands traveled over the curve of your hips to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You tried to get out of his touch. Or, you would've. But his hands on you felt too natural. He felt right.

That didn’t mean you’d let him off easy. This was the first conversation you both held in months.

"Well for the past few months, you didn't want to be seen with me either." You quipped, aggravated. His sudden change of heart polarized your emotions. You were conflicted with yourself.

He shook his head, “I’m sorry, mami. There’s shit going on that I couldn’t involve you in. I can’t bring you down with me.” He uncharacteristically apologized.

His words made you become hyper-aware of his hands on your waist. The way he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs. How you almost folded under his touch, but maintained your unbothered facade. No matter how much time has passed, he still made your heart race.

You scoffed at him and continued, "I’m not going to wait around for you like some lovesick puppy. Do you want me or not, Miles?"

Without a moment of hesitation, he quickly said, “You have no fucking idea.” Inspecting his eyes, you tried to find deception within them. What you saw in return was the gaze of a man starved.

“Then earn me.” Glaring up at him, you harshly retorted as you furrowed your brows at him. But one more look into each other's eyes was all it took for the tension to snap in half.

He grabbed you by the waist swiftly and pulled you in, your lips finally connecting. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your bodies pressed together against the wall of the closet, knocking over supplies. The pent-up frustrations inside of you came undone as you kissed him with all the fiery passion you could muster. You bit his lower lip, making him groan against your mouth. That was a sound you realized you'd love to hear on repeat. Your lips moved together in perfect harmony. Like they were made to fit each other.

His hand traveled to the back of your head into your hair as he pulled it softly, making you muffle a whimper into his mouth.

Miles pulled away for a split second to whisper with a smirk, "Cállate, hermosa. But I'm down if you want everyone to hear." His lips were hovering over yours, only seconds away. You felt both of your chests heaving against one another, his breath overlapping yours. You were sure he could feel your heartbeat.

"Fuck you, Miles." You briskly closed the small distance between both of your lips once again before he could make a crude remark about how 'you'd like that'.

You spent the rest of the class period cooped up with him in the minimal space of the supply closet.

-----------

After school, you looked for Miles. Something you've been restraining yourself from doing over these past few months. However, you were hoping things were different now. In a good way. You'd think spending some quality time in a supply closet together would change things.

But as you looked across the courtyard, Miles was nowhere to be seen. You felt irritated with him once again, but you weren’t going to let him cut you out of his life for a second time.

So you did what any rational person would do. You visited his house to talk with him. You believed that if you had a decent conversation with him, it would fix what broke between the two of you. After all, his mother did tell you that you were always welcome there. His house was the place the both of you created a collection of memories. Memories that you stayed up late thinking about. Before it all went downhill. Knocking on the door, his mother answered it.

You greeted her with a smile, "Hola, Mrs. Morales! Is Miles here?" She gave you a knowing look. Mrs. Morales always did have a knack for knowing exactly what was going on.

Nodding her head, she told you "You caught him at a good time. He's been in and out with his Uncle lately. Come on in." She promptly led you inside the house.

"Gracias, Mrs. Morales." You told her before you made a beeline for Miles' room. Stopping right in front of his door, you knocked. Silence came from the other side. "Miles, I'm going to come in. Please don't be naked." You covered your eyes with your palm as you opened his door.

You didn't hear any yells of protest, so you assumed it was safe to peek through your fingers. As you removed your hand from your face, you noticed he was climbing through his own window. But that's not what made you stop in your tracks. Rather, it was his attire. He wasn't naked by any means. Instead, he was wearing the infamous suit that you've seen on the news time and time again. Over the past few months. The correlation clicked in your brain. He wasn't purposely avoiding you for the last few months. His life was just turned upside down in more than one way. He turned into the Prowler.

He looked just as shocked as you while he climbed through his window. "Fuck, what are you doing here, mami?" He frantically asked.

Closing the door behind you, you said, "I came to speak to you, but it seems like all my questions are answered now." You felt numb.

He didn't have a response. He didn't know what to tell you. It was exactly what it looked like. There were no words exchanged, but much was said within those silent moments.

Breaking the silence, you exclaimed, "Y'know what? Forget it. Forget I came here. Matter of fact, forget we ever met." You just about had it. Miles, the one that used to walk you home, being the Prowler was not exactly something you predicted.

"You know I can't do that." He said. You started to back away from him, turning away. He grabbed your arm with a feather-like touch, despite wearing his steel claws. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you. Not physically, at least. "Just let me explain."

"What is there to explain? That you've been avoiding me for months because you're the Prowler? I don't think anything else needs to be said." You let out a faint melancholic chuckle.

He stared into your eyes as he removed his claws, gently grasping your shoulders. "Mami, just listen to me." He pleaded, "You understand now why I couldn't tell you. That's why I had to stay away. This business is the shit I can't have you affiliated with."

"If you don't want me affiliated, then don't join it." You snapped at him, pushing a finger into his chest.

Your response set off something inside of him as he blurted out, "I'm in love with you. Shit, I love you so fucking much. I always have. You're the only one that's ever on my mind, 'ight? If I permanently lost you, I'd never come back from that."

Those were precisely the words you've been waiting ages to hear. But not like this.

"Miles. I can't be a part of this. I don't want to do this 'back and forth' thing. I can't do this. Not with you." Turning your back on him again, you tried to hold your composure as you stepped away. Out of his grasp. You had no intention to break down in front of him. This time, you were the one walking away. You were going to be the one leaving him.

"Wait," He called out, his voice faltering. You were slipping through his fingers, right in front of his eyes. If he had to beg you to stay, so be it. Even after all that time apart, you've been the sole reason he woke up in the morning. He couldn't afford to let you leave him for good.

"Quédate conmigo, mami. Por favor. I can't lose you again." His voice trembled with desperation. Your steps hesitated, his words plunging knives directly into your heart. You've never seen him like this. And it was a sight you never wished to see again.

So you obliged. You might as well have taken what you said and thrown it in the trash. He had the ability to change your mind with only a few words. Turning back to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. He reciprocated as he enveloped your waist with his arms.

You buried your face in his neck as you whispered, "Don't fucking do that again. Don't shut me out." You placed a light kiss on it. You continued, "I love you too, Miles." removing your face from his neck to stare up into his eyes.

"I promise, mami. It's only ever been you." He softly said, pressing his lips to yours. You kissed back with just as much delicacy.

You were aware it was an incredibly dangerous business Miles was involved in. For him, you'd give up anything. You hadn’t a clue what being involved with the Prowler would exactly entail. It was something you both would have to figure out together.

Your relationship was by no means perfect. But you were both learning. As long as it was with him, you wouldn't have it any other way.

-----------

¿Cómo está mi ángel hoy? - How's my angel today?

Princesa - Princess

Adiós/Chao - Bye

Cállate - Shut up, be quiet

Hermosa - Beautiful

Quédate conmigo - Stay with me

Por favor - Please

(yes the title is a childish gambino reference)

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miles morales spider man #jealousy #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #spider man #prowler miles #friends to lovers #prowler!miles x reader #x reader #miles morales prowler #prowler miles morales #miles morales

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jwonsite · 5 months

Text

“happy birthday, pretty boy” - sim jaeyun

part 2 of e(nnn)- (a nnn series)

pairing: switch!jake x switch!fem!reader

warnings: oral (f&m receiving), making out, 69 position, lingerie mentioned, idk what else to put help me

synopsis: while your boyfriend is trying his hardest to win a bet made by his best friends to not have sex for a month, you couldn’t help but give him a little show on his birthday

masterlist!

"jake i'm telling you right now there's no way you're winning that ps5"

"you really have that little faith in me?!"

"have you met yourself? last week you begged me to let you eat me out because you were 'pussy deprived' while i was on my period. it had been 3 days."

your boyfriend sighed in defeat, knowing you were right. but was it really his fault? you were just so perfect, he could never get enough of you!

"well i'm going to prove you wrong, just watch. on december 1st when i'm collecting my ps5 from sunghoon i'll remind you of this very moment," jake said, crossing his arms as he dramatically turned away from you

you laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. you knew your boyfriend, and you knew there was absolutely no way that he was lasting this entire month, especially with his birthday being a few weeks away. he can tell himself whatever he wants, but you both know in the end, he's not getting that ps5.

______________________________________________________________

it had been two weeks and he was honestly doing way better than anybody expected. everyday the boys waited for a text message saying he lost, some even placing further bets on how many hours days he could last before he lost

"can you believe them?! i was on the phone with hoon earlier and i heard heeseung give jungwon money after saying i lasted longer than he thought! i can't believe theyre making bets on me, like, am i really that horny?" he complained to you as you were eating dinner together

"in their defense, you are a pretty big man whore. i mean, have you seen the videos of yourself from the concerts? licking your lips, showing your abs, grinding the air, they definitely aren't wrong for thinking that. plus i am 100 percent sure they have heard us have sex in the dorms multiple times", you said back to him. everybody knows that jake practically lives off of sex. not in a weird way, but you just energize him so much. with so much stress of being an idol, getting to come home and fuck his frustrations out, or eat you out for hours until you're overstimulated, it's an instant destresser

"well, yeah but, they could at least have a little more confidence in me", he said with a pout, continuing to eat the food you had made for him earlier

"okay you big baby", you said with a laugh, getting up to take your empty plate to the sink to wash

your boyfriend followed soon behind with his empty plate, slightly pushing you out of the way and taking the sponge out of your hand to wash the dishes for you. you smiled at him fondly as you moved to sit on the counter directly next to the sink. you sat and admired your boyfriend, looking so domestic as he washed the dishes in your apartment. you looked forward to the day that he could finally move in with you full-time, after the pressures of being an idol aren't so heavy

"you're staring, pretty girl", he said with a smirk, not moving his attention from the plates in front of him

"yeah cause you're just so handsome", you said not being able to hold back your smile

he giggled a bit at your statement before refocusing on the task in front of him

"so!" you said, clapping your hands together, "what are we doing tomorrow, birthday boy?"

"i didn't really have any plans in mind, probably hang with the boys for a bit, get dinner or whatever then come back and chill here with you. nothing too crazy", he said nonchalantly, turning of the sink and drying his hands as he finished washing everything

"are you serious? its your 21st birthday jakey, you have to do something!" you said, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stood between your legs. because you were sitting on the counter you were eye level with him. he put his hands on your thighs as he looked at you with a smile

"yeah yeah i know but... i dont know. not really in the going out mood, id rather just chill and spend it here with you", he said moving his face close to yours, noses rubbing together. you hummed as you closed the gap between you both, lips molding together as your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck. he pulled away, rubbing your noses together once more before standing back to look at you

"you sure you don't wanna go out somewhere tomorrow? nothing at all you can think of?" you asked once more, intertwining your hands together

"nothing, i promise. we can go out to eat with the boys and then come back and have a movie night or something. just wanna be with you", he said with a smile. you flushed at his words. even after dating for so long he never failed to make you flustered

"okay, now come on pretty boy let's go to bed, i'm tired", you said, wrapping your arms and legs around your boyfriend to signal him to carry you to your bedroom. he laughed and shook his head before putting his hands under your thighs and picking you up, walking to your room

______________________________________________________________

the next day was filled with multiple surprises for your boyfriend, waking him up to breakfast in bed, giving him a beautiful white gold bracelet you had found for him a few weeks ago, the boys showing up early to your house to give him the gifts they had bought him before all going out to dinner together that night.

you all had a great time, talking and laughing loudly for hours, probably annoying the rest of the patrons in the restaurant. your boyfriend thanked his friends, as well as you for making his birthday such a fun day, but what he didn't know was that you had one more surprise for him.

you had been planning this for a while, being very glad he opted to staying in for his birthday as it helped your plan go smoother. you knew he had that bet with his friends but, we all knew he was gonna lose at one point or another, so why not have it be on his birthday? he wasn't even a big gamer anyways, it wasn't like he would be super disappointed if he didnt get the gaming console.

you were gonna make some excuse to get him back to your place, changing into your brand new black lingerie set you got specifically for this occasion. you knew he loved when you wore black, since it was one of his favorite colors. you hoped the lingerie set would get him to break, giving up on his bet with his friends

after dinner was paid for (thank you jay🙏🏼), your boyfriend bid goodbye to his friends, walking back to your car with you

you drove home in a comfortable silence, his hand on your thigh as you looked out the window, music lowly playing in the background. you were getting excited for your plans, feeling the heat in your core grow as you slightly shifted in your seat

"you okay babe?" jake asked, looking at you slightly

"yeah, i'm fine" you said with a smile, grabbing his hand off your thigh to intertwine it with yours, as the close proximity to your core was getting you more worked up than you already were

you thought you were being slick, but your boyfriend knew about this whole ordeal. he had accidentally seen the lingerie in your dresser, and when he didnt recognize it he figured you had bought it for this reason. and after seeing the way you tried to hide yourself getting worked up during dinner, snd in the car next to him just now, confirmed his suspicions. he smiled to himself before focusing back on the road, feeling your stare on the side of his face. usually he would tease you, but right now he wanted nothing more than to get you home and fuck you til you can't walk

the ride back to your apartment felt longer than usual, your arousal continuing to pool in your panties the more you thought about the night to come. you finally arrived, and jake got out the car quickly to open the door for you, helping you out of the car. he grabbed your hand as he led you inside. he unlocked the door to your apartment, letting you go in first, following behind closely

before you knew it, you were pushed up against your front door, your boyfriends lips clashing with yours passionately as his hands roamed over your body

your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to be the one to initiate the intimacy. you soon melted into your boyfriends arms, wrapping your arms around his neck to tangle in his hair as your tongues clashed in each others mouths. he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss as he walked to your bedroom, placing you down on the bed, leaning back to take of his shirt, throwing it across the room before coming back down to kiss you again

"fuck, jakey, what about your bet?" you moaned out as he moved his lips down your neck and chest

"first of all, fuck the bet. second of all, you think i didn't know all about your little plan for tonight? that pretty little lingerie set that you bought just for me. lucky for you, i'm gonna let you save that for another day, right now i just wanna feel you around me" he said as he continued to leave open mouthed kisses down your neck and chest, putting his hands up your shirt to massage your breasts over your bra

you moaned as you moved your hands to take off your shirt, sitting up for a second to lift it over your head, discarding it somewhere in your room

jake moved further down your chest now that he had more access, taking one of his hands to unbuckle your bra skillfully, like he had done it a billion times

after your bra was off, he moved his mouth down to suck your nipples, licking and kissing then as he used one of his hands to roll your other nipple between his fingertips. your hands were in his hair, pulling and tugging on it slightly, making him moan into your breasts, sending vibrations all through your body

"baby please, i need you so bad" you moaned out, becoming impatient

"so needy, my baby. can't believe i was gonna make you wait a whole month without my dick" he said, kissing down your body as he made his way to where you were craving him most

"wait", you said, putting your hand on his head to stop his motions. you put your hand under his chin to pull him back up to your face, before pushing him over so he was under you

he gasped at the sudden movement before smirking at you, immediately putting his hands behind his head

"wanna take care of my pretty boy" you said as you moved down to his dick, kissing and lick his defined abs on the way down. you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down off his legs before cupping his clothed dick in your hands

he moaned out at the feeling as you palmed him through the thin fabric of his underwear, cursing lowly under his breath

"please don't tease princess, it's been way too long i need to feel your mouth around me already" he said with a whine

"whatever my birthday boy wants" you said, slipping your fingers into the sides of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs. his dick sprung up from the fabric, stand so tall and prettily. you swear his dick was the prettiest one in the world, the veins going up the side were just so perfect, he wasn't bigger than average, but he was so thick, and his tip was so red and pretty, already leaking precum

he groaned as he was finally released from the constraints of any fabrics, moving his hands down to tangle in your hair

you took his dick in your hands as you slowly licked all the way from the base to the tip, your boyfriend moaning out loudly as you did so. you began to suck his tip gently, licking his slit and tasting his precum on your tongue

"fuck, baby, you said anything i want right? i want you to sit on my face please. you take my dick so well in your mouth but i want to taste you too. please baby", he whined out as you continued to suck only the tip. you smiled up at him before standing up to remove your pants and underwear

"of course pretty boy, it's your night" you said as you climbed onto the bed seductively, moving your legs over your boyfriends head so you were hovering above his mouth. you could feel his warm breath on your pussy, and his nose rubbing against your clit. you moaned slightly as you leaned forward to take his dick into your moth again

you began sucking on it harshly, before feeling jake pull your hips down harshly, suffocating himself with your pussy. he was licking and sucking on your clit so well, you could barely concentrate on what you were doing. you continued to bob your head up and down over his cock as he keep eating you out, your moans being muffled by his dick. the vibrations of your moans over his dick made him approach his orgasm faster than usual, already feeling his stomach tighten and his dick twitching in your mouth. he didn't want to cum before you, so he started to speed up his actions, hands tightly gripping your thighs, probably leaving a mark tomorrow

he heard your moans get higher in pitch, and your hips began to grind onto his face slightly, signaling you were close. you continued moving up and down on his dick, hands massaging his balls as you felt his dick twitch in your mouth. your orgasm hit you hard, hips bucking onto your boyfriends face as you tried to continue sucking on his dick, becoming too distracted on by your own orgasm hitting you. jake didn't stop his ministrations, riding you through your orgasm, making sure to lick up every last drop of your juices. your hand continued to move up and down his dick, and you moved your head back down to his dick so he could come too. not long after he was cumming in your mouth, moaning into your pussy sending vibrations and overstimulating you

you gathered all his cum into your mouth, sitting up and turning around so he could see your face as you swallowed it. that was one of his favorite parts when you sucked his dick, getting to see you swallow his load

his hands moved to your waist as you sat over his abs, feeling your juices spread over his stomach. you leaned down to kiss him, and he practically got hard again tasting himself on your lips. you smiled into the kiss as you pulled away, biting his lip before you pulled away and let go

"happy birthday, pretty boy"

you rolled off his stomach to lay next to him, turning your head to look at him with a smile. he looked back at you, returning the smile fondly. he rolled to the side to cuddle into you, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him before he could

"you thought we were done baby? oh no, were just getting started"

a/n: GUYS FINALLY I KNOW ITS OUT AHHHHH. i wrote this all in one sitting cuz i was determined to finally get it out for you guys after weeks of not being able to😭 i hope you guys enjoy, and sorry it’s a little short🥲🥲🥲

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ew-selfish-art · 7 months

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Dp x Dc AU: Bruce has a 'if you can't beat them, join them' mentality about the tabloids claiming he adopts too many kids- Developing foster homes that are paid for through the Wayne inheritance, personally vetted by the Bats, they're the leaders in the space for child health outcomes and family placement. Insert Danny.

---

Bruce has too much wealth, too many rumors and not enough reach into the abhorrent foster homes around Gotham to improve them. Tim ends up being the one to suggest it- He's the one who buys up their real estate for their safe houses after all- and Bruce is more than ready to pull the metaphorical trigger to get new clean welcoming spaces, Bat-background checked fosters and a new era of adoption in Gotham underway.

He's lobbied the state and the federal government for reforms of course, but this is a project he can micromanage. He spends time with every kid that comes through, talks with all the families that want to adopt and makes sure that these miniature homes are provided only the very best. Alfred personally hires all the staff, and with Barbara more than happy to help relocate the unhoused children she spots while they patrol, the project is a glowing success.

Occasionally, spots in their houses fill up, and those are the weeks were Cass takes on the Cowl of Batman- Bruce Wayne will personally invite a child in need to his home. He always has one of his kids present (they rotate on a pre-determined schedule) and he does his best to try and get them to understand that they deserve the world, have all the potential that anyone else has and can achieve a bright future. That he will personally aid them in their ambitions.

PR goes crazy for it of course, but Bruce and all of his children know its genuine. Almost too genuine, because a betting pool 'WILL THEY BE ADOPTED' regularly circulates between the siblings and the entire JL when someone spends time at the manor. And not just the black-haired, Blue-eyed kids get picked as favored outcomes- but obviously the running joke gets passed around.

It's a Thursday night when Bruce gets the call that the houses have once again filled up, and that there is a child in need of a home. The social worker (he knows her as Marsha and he has flowers planned to be sent on her birthday next week, like he does for all of his employees) (Say micromanaged one more time) explains that the kid is a bit cagey but has opened up with some humor. She explains that he has a few strange... mannerisms. She's not sure what to make of him, a non-gothamite for sure but something is, well, distinctly 'not from around here' about his energy.

Danny arrives at the house, meets Duke and Alfred, and by the time Bruce meets him at the dinner table it seems as though Marsha had it all wrong. This kid was laughing, he was teasing, he was totally playing along like he'd gone through nothing. Bruce is glad he's in high spirits but its just so... so different from all the other children he's taken in.

Bruce re-focuses on the conversation when Duke mentions something flashing, and its the first time that Danny goes quiet. Entirely still.

"...you noticed that?" Danny quietly asks, a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"You don't have a flashlight on or something do you? It was super bright whatever it is that you had in your hand a second ago?" Duke tries to sound chill but he's looking very much not chill. Bruce saw nothing, and that puts him further on edge.

"Look... I uh, I've been though... I've been through a lot lately. And the last lab I was in kind of, messed with me. I'm normally much better at dealing with it all, I promise." Danny sounds nervous, and the room seems to chill.

"Ah shoot, sorry." Danny notices something and frantically apologizes.

"Sorry for what Danny? You've done nothing wrong but I am worried about you- You said you were in a lab?" Bruce is desperately trying to calm him down while not slipping into Batman interrogation mode.

"Uh, yeah, like a lot of labs. It should get warmer in a second, its just cause I startled, I promise."

"You're a meta." Duke speaks softly and with hope in his voice- Danny is looking between them with wide eyes filled with fear.

"I mean I don't technically have the gene-"

"Danny, have you told any of your case workers where you were? Do any authorities know what you've been through?" Bruce needs to know, desperately, that who ever gave this young boy super powers is brought to justice. Danny goes quiet.

"I'm really sorry." He says softly, but he doesn't leave them.

Duke and Bruce try to ask a few more questions but the silence that meets them declares the conversation over, even with Duke admitting he himself is a meta. Danny didn't even look up from his plate. They watch a movie after dinner, and Danny seems to get back to the smile-y happy guy he had been before dinner.

Each of the bat-fam have their own interactions with Danny- And even if they're getting along amazingly, Danny won't open up. He doesn't open up to his provided therapist. Doesn't talk to Alfred. No one knows what's up.

So when Marsha calls Bruce back explaining they now have a spot for Danny and he can move out of the Manor... Bruce replies that he'd like to get started on Adoption paperwork, so long as Danny is fine with it.

---

Turns out, Danny is fine with it. he's both the newest Wayne and their newest case. (And godamnit, his new family is going to avenge him. If only he'd let them try.)

Danny figures out that Duke= Signal early on because of that dinner, and if he's going to keep his parents out of jail, he needs to be as close to the investigation as possible. He knows that he shouldn't protect the Fentons, but he feels the upset in his core at the thought of letting them befall any harm. He has to protect them. Has to protect Jazz and her hiding spot as a mole within their lab. Has to.

Even if it meant lying to his new family who loves him, and who he loves in equal return. Even if it means lying to The Bats.

---

Tabloids go crazy about the black-haired blue-eyed thing of course, but no poll was ever taken by the batfam or the JL who know the whole story.

#Danny has his powers destabilized by the various lab experiments but he's slowly getting control back #Duke notices Danny phasing his hands through the table/silverware by accident- it just looks like slight of hand tho #Danny figures out the bats and the best he can do is get adopted #friends close and enemies (lol not really) closer #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #dc x dp fic #please i beg of you- write the other siblings interactions #someone tell me why I left Jazz to sabotage their parents and what to do with her next #jazz looking at danny who now has every possible resource to save them and not using it like- my guy #danny's core working against him like stockholm syndrome basically #like his protected them for this long so now he feels compulsion #danny gets adopted au #bruce adopts danny au

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seungkw1 · 21 days

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better late than never — kmg

♡ pairing: kim mingyu x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], best friends to lovers, non-idol au ♡ wc: 2.7k ♡ warnings: size kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), riding, unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, mingyu is a boob guy, praise kink if u squint ♡ a/n: written for my bestie <3 and posting just in time for his birthday - happy mingyu day!!

knock-knock-knock-knock

“come on! let me in!!”

you approach your front door, but you don’t unlock it yet.

“what happened to the copy of my key i gave you?” you inquire to the voice on the other side.

“i forgot it!”

you turn the deadbolt, opening the door to reveal the man standing outside - the look on his face is sheepish as he stands there, arms full of grocery bags.

“kim mingyu i asked you to get me three things, not the entire store,” you say incredulously.

“i saw your fridge the other day. you literally only had cheese, beer, and a jar of pickles in there,” he retorts, shooting you a judgemental look.

“the three main food groups.”

mingyu rolls his eyes as he enters your apartment. “whatever, i'm cooking you dinner. a real dinner.”

“aye aye captain,” you say as you jokingly salute him.

you met mingyu freshman year of college, when he burst through the door of your dorm room - thinking it was his own (he was on the wrong floor). his eyes turned wide as saucers as he realized his mistake.

“SORRY,” he blurted out before fleeing out of the room. he was gone before you had even processed what happened.

the next day he returned - this time knocking first. you opened the door to see the tall man, holding two packs of ramen.

“sorry about yesterday,” he apologized, still a bit embarrassed. “i'm an idiot and thought i was on the sixth floor.”

“you're not an idiot, mistakes happen. it's okay,” you assured him amiably.

“thanks, i’m glad you’re not mad at me or anything,” he replied with a smile. he extended the ramen to you. “it’s not much but i just… felt like i should bring a gift for some reason?” he told you, looking like he was second guessing himself as the words came out of his mouth.

“ooo it’s the good kind too,” you replied eagerly as you took the ramen from him. “you wanna have one right now?”

he looked surprised, but delighted at your suggestion.

“actually that would be awesome, those were my last two,” he admits with a laugh. you grin back at him.

“well, come on in. again.”

–

and so mingyu inadvertently became your best friend. if not for the dorm incident, you probably never would have even crossed paths with him - he was your typical business bro, while you were majoring in psychology and literature. but, something just clicked between you two.

a handful of years later now, he’s still your closest friend. and here he is, in your kitchen, grabbing the appropriate pots, pans, and utensils to get started on his spaghetti carbonara. as independent of a person as you are, you're not particularly the best chef - so you're grateful for his culinary expertise and willingness to make food for you.

over dinner, mingyu is his usual chatty self. he tells you about his day, about how his neighbor has picked up the irritating hobby of learning to play the trumpet, about the dog he met yesterday while at the park, about his new coworker who seems to like him a little too much.

“well, is she cute?” you ask nonchalantly, swirling the wine in your glass.

“huh?” your question seems to catch him off guard. “i don't know. i mean, i've never thought about it.”

“bullshit,” you tell him, taking a big sip.

“it's true!”

“right. well think about it, is she?”

“she's conventionally attractive i guess. i don't know why it matters though,” he says sincerely.

“well if she likes you and she’s cute, you should ask her out.”

“that would be extremely unprofessional,” he scoffs, appalled at your suggestion. “besides, she's not my type.”

“what, is she weird or something?”

“no. and besides, i like weird. but i definitely don't see her like that.”

“what do you mean, you like weird?” you ask, raising your eyebrow.

“i mean, you’re weird. and i like you.” he says it matter-of-factly, as if he was telling you the grass is green.

“okay well obviously you don't want to date me,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “but come on, you haven't dated anyone in years. i'm trying to help to you here.”

the expression on his face changes, but you can't quite decipher what he’s thinking.

“i don't need help.”

you give him a weird look.

“not like that!” he quickly insists. “i just mean, don't worry about me, i’m fine.”

“ooookay, whatever you say gyu.”

his face remains calm, but you notice the corners of his mouth twitch upward slightly. normally, he’s not a fan of the nickname, but you know you're the only one who's allowed to call him that. he’s told you before.

“well, what about you?” he asks suddenly.

you look at him while chewing a big bite of pasta, confused. “what about me what?”

“are you, like… seeing anybody these days?”

he speaks timidly, as if treading on eggshells.

“why? are you asking me out?”

“ha ha, very funny,” he says sarcastically. he then shrugs. “i was just curious.”

“i actually did go on a date last week,” you admit. he looks up, surprised.

“really? how'd it go?”

“surprisingly, really good,” you tell him.

“that's good. you have a long history of terrible first dates.”

“it was a second date, actually.”

mingyu pauses. “and you didn't tell me about the first one? fake as hell.”

“oh shut the fuck up,” you tease back, grinning at him.

he picks up the bottle of wine sitting on the table. “should we finish this?” he asks.

“duh.”

he removes the cork, pouring you another glass before refilling his own.

after the delicious meal, you begin to clean up the kitchen, but mingyu quickly gets up and takes the dishes from your hands.

“i got it.”

“you did all the cooking, let me do it,” you tell him.

“nope,” he insists, already scrubbing plates.

you help anyway, but mingyu is fast. the kitchen is sparkling within ten minutes.

“damn, this looks better that it did before you got here,” you remark as you start the dishwasher.

“don't go on a third date.”

you freeze. you look back at mingyu - he's reclining against the kitchen counter. his face, sincere.

“what?” you ask hesitantly.

“i said, don't go on a third date.”

he rises, walking toward you. he stops inches away from you, extending his arms, leaning his palms on the counter on either side of you. his face hovers above yours, his warm eyes locked onto yours.

“gyu, are you drunk?” you ask, knowing full well he's not. your heart is suddenly pounding.

“i'm not.” he brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face upwards. “can i kiss you?”

you’re stunned, standing motionless, breathing deeply as he strokes your jawline softly with his thumb. sure, you’d thought about the possibility of dating mingyu before. more than once, even. and you figured he’d probably thought about dating you before. but truly, you never thought he had serious feelings for you.

but here you are, pinned against your kitchen counter by your best friend. your best friend, who happens to be incredibly attractive. and the way your heart is racing - you really do want to kiss him right now.

you try to think logically, rationalizing whether this is a good decision, but the emotional part of your brain takes control. you kiss him. you kiss him - and he kisses you, and you stand there, in your best friend’s arms, kissing each other, as if you'd both been waiting for this moment for years. and deep down, you know you have been.

mingyu grabs hold of you, pulling you up onto the counter. you wrap your arms around his waist, running your hands slowly up and down his torso, feeling his toned body through his soft shirt. he caresses you gently, kissing you still - you're suspended in time, just the two of you, bodies connected like never before. you suddenly cannot believe you've spent years with this man and never once made out with him - but better late than never.

he softly brings his hands to your sides. your lips finally part - you instantly miss the sensation. he slides his hands under your shirt, pausing right before he reaches your breasts.

“can i touch them?” he asks, his voice breathy. you nod fervously. he caresses your over your bra, kissing you again as he squeezes your tits in his large hands. you inadvertently let out a soft moan. mingyu grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you. he looks at you in awe.

“you're so perfect.”

he is utterly gushing and swooning over you right now. you feel your heart skip a beat.

you slip your hands under his shirt, running your hands over his abs and chest. he pulls his shirt off too, standing there before you. you've seen mingyu shirtless before, but not like this. his muscles are striking, perfectly sculpted - his golden, sunkissed skin glows beautifully. you feel a sudden, strong carnal urge to lick him, kiss him, bite him all over.

you look up at him - the look in his eyes reciprocating your desire. you hop off the counter, taking his hands in yours. you pull his arms, tugging him in the direction of your room. his cheeks turns flush as he realizes your intent - a roguish grin spreads across his face, revealing his pointy canines you’ve always loved.

mingyu wastes no time taking your pants off as you throw yourself onto the bed, reclining against the soft pillows. he gazes at you lustfully as you lay there in your lingerie, unzipping his pants and pulling them off as fast as humanly possible. you feel throbbing in your core at the sight of him standing there - his light gray underwear doing absolutely nothing to disguise the prominent erection underneath.

he crawls into bed, his body hovering above yours. you wrap your arms around his broad torso, pulling his large frame into yours as you begin to move your hips, grinding against his cock - the wet spot on your panties grows as you rub your cunt against him. it was clear from the moment he took his pants off that he is big, but feeling its length, its thickness, against your clothed pussy is making you clench around nothing - making you wish you were clenching around him instead.

mingyu gently grabs your arms, pinning them next to your head as he interlocks his fingers with yours. his lips lightly graze against yours.

“are you sure you want to do this?” he asks softly. you nod immediately.

“yeah.”

he buries his head into the crook of your neck, kissing you repeatedly. he gradually makes his way down your body, his hands moving to take your bra off, but he pauses.

“can i-”

“you can do whatever you want to me,” you interject.

you feel his cock twitch. “oh god, don't tell me that.”

he unclasps the hook, letting out a moan at the sight of your bare tits. immediately he takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud before taking it between his lips. he sucks on your tit like his life depends on it - his hand squeezing and pinching the other as his cock grinds against your core. you're gone already - a moaning mess, putty in his hands. he eventually switches sides, cool air hitting the wetness remaining on your nipple. you get the feeling mingyu could suck your tits forever.

he eventually moves on, planting kisses down your stomach as he situates himself between your legs. he kisses your inner thighs - slowly approaching your core, but not touching you just yet. you whimper as he finally touches his lips to your clit over your thoroughly wet underwear. he licks you slowly, his tongue running over the thin fabric several times before he slips his finger underneath, pulling your underwear aside, exposing your soaked core. he groans at the sight of it.

“fuck, just as pretty as i imagined.”

you part your lips to say something, but your words become lost - instantly replaced with cries of pleasure as he begins eating you out. you run your fingers through his hair, grasping onto it as he sucks repeatedly on your clit. he places a large hand on your belly, applying pressure, as he takes two fingers to your pussy, slipping them in with ease. you moan as he begins to fuck you, your hips beginning to buck.

“more,” you beg.

you cry out as he adds a third finger - your cunt has never felt so full, but you know this is nothing compared to how his cock would feel in you. he continues sucking your clit, heat rising in your lower stomach as you feel yourself nearing orgasm. you writhe in pleasure, screaming mingyu’s name as he makes you cum - and he makes you cum hard.

your head spins as you come down from your powerful high. as you catch your breath mingyu crawls back up, laying against you, his radiant body heat making your skin turn hot. he strokes your cheek, pressing his lips hungrily against yours once more.

“can you… will you ride me?”

your pussy throbs at the mere thought. wordlessly you nod. mingyu reaches down, sliding your panties off before discarding his own underwear. you gasp softly as his cock springs free. you reach down, taking hold of it - its size making your hand appear tiny in comparison. he leans his head back, sighing as you stroke his length, your palm becoming wet with his precum.

you give him a push, rolling over on top of him. his tip grazes your wet cunt as you straddle him, his eyes locked onto yours intensely. you sit up, taking his cock in your hand, rubbing it against your folds a few times, before finally slipping it inside. you slowly lower yourself onto it, whining softly as its thickness stretches you. mingyu groans as you bottom out, sitting entirely on his cock. you haven’t even moved yet, but his breathing is heavy, inhaling deeply as he reaches up to grab onto your breasts. you begin to ride him, slowly moving your hips up and down, his cock filling you up beyond anything you could’ve imagined. you gradually increase your pace, both of you moaning at the overwhelming sensation, until you are fully bouncing on his cock, your palms resting against his muscular chest to steady yourself as you unravel over him.

mingyu begins to whimper. “you’re so fucking hot,” he utters between heavy breaths. “you’re gonna make me cum.”

you ride him relentlessly, crying out at how good he feels inside you. his eyes close as he releases, thrusting his hips powerfully as he cums in your pussy - the warmth of his cum filling you up. your pace slows, riding him gently as he finishes, his moans tapering off as he begins to come down. you settle onto his cock, laying on him as you kiss him. he kisses you back lovingly, one hand running through your hair, the other caressing the small of your back. you lay there for a while, his chest rising up and down as he breathes deeply. your heartbeat slows, pounding heavily in your chest as you recover.

slowly, he finally pulls out. you roll to his side, wrapping your arms around him in a warm embrace, squeezing him with all your might. he giggles.

“mingyu?” you ask softly after several moments of silence.

“hm?”

“you should’ve told me sooner.”

he sighs. “i wanted to - many times. but i didn’t want to risk our friendship. i didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“i think… i think i’ve always loved you. i just never realized it.”

mingyu smiles. he gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“so… what does this mean? for us,” he asks you.

you look up - his warm eyes are fixated on you, optimistic, awaiting your answer.

“well, i really don’t think anything is going to change.” a nervous look washes over his face - you quickly add, “except that we fuck now and also i want you to be my boyfriend.”

he closes his eyes, letting out a laugh. he pulls you closer into his embrace.

“i like the sound of that.”

–

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#kim mingyu #mingyu smut #mingyu fics #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #svt fics #svt smut #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen smut #seventeen fics #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader

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justporo · 6 months

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Brewing Storms

A storm is brewing - oh yes, a literal one too. Tav's scared to be alone during a thunderstorm. Astarion is reluctant but stays to provide some comfort - and realises it might have been one of the better things to happen to him.

Author's Note: I started this a while ago and then stuff got in the way - like Gale for example (lol) - and now I'm happy to be back to write something soft for Astarion and Tav!

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: Talk of trauma, very light smut Wordcount: 2,4k

~~~

Astarion and you had fallen into a sort of weird routine with your little late night escapades. Since the party after you saved the Grove and the first night you’ve spent together you had come together time and time again.

First only every couple of days. Always meeting somewhere away from camp and then sneaking back sometime before the others woke up. Although you were surely fair they all knew already anyway. But now you were almost spending every night together. Fortunately for the two of you, being elven meant you were still getting enough rest despite the nightly adventures.

Astarion kept feeding you his cheesy lines – you ate them right up. No one had ever given you this kind of attention. And as much as you knew that it was an act: how could you resist? You had never experienced such flattery nor could anyone you’d shared intimacy with ever compare to Astarion. But that wasn’t even the main thing.

You’d had crushes before, you’d fallen in love before but you were pretty sure it had never been quite like this. Your whole chest sometimes ached when you looked at Astarion. Sometimes when you caught him in a rare moment when he let his perfected mask drop for a second you saw the bottomless sadness and worry in his eyes. And all you wished for was to erase whatever it was that caused that sadness – to keep him safe and always give him something to smile about.

You had quite positively fallen for the vampiric elf. What had been a crush at first had very quickly become an unyielding need in your heart: desperate to be near him, to hear his voice, talk to him, to laugh at his sassy comments, to lay in his arms and to hold him in turn. Out of everything you surely hadn’t wanted or planned to fall in love with everything else going on – but there you were.

You were a hopeless case – even though you were sure it would come back to bite you (and maybe even literally): be it that he lost interest in you way quicker than you would like or that he had ulterior motives and that you were merely a means to an end.

In fact, you were entirely sure that there was more to Astarion. You weren’t all fooled and blinded by your brewing emotions for the vampire. Maybe not really the first time, but as you got more used to sharing a bed with Astarion you were well aware that it seemed like he wasn’t fully there with you.

You could take only guesses at why that was exactly – and you didn’t like any of those.

At several occasions you had tried to bring it up. But he had swatted your concerns away every time, just making a sultry joke or drowning you with kisses until you had forgotten what you had wanted to say. In any case he always pushed you to get back into his arms.

Gladly, you would have offered him an open ear – your heart was already wide open.

But you were sure this wouldn’t last. You were in way over your head and you so desperately wanted to avoid breaking the spell.

And as much as you would have wished for him to open up more, to let you in a bit more and as much as you would have liked to confess the way you felt: you didn’t think you could do it without ruining whatever it was between the two of you.

At least, he seemed to be a bit more present when he was with you of late. The changes seemed subtle enough, but you were convinced that it slowly became different. Maybe it was just that the two of you had gotten used to this dance now, but you could swear his hands lingered longer now on your skin, that his kisses became deeper and more tender, that the way he looked at you became softer sometimes. And that those moments, when he seemed miles away, became fewer.

Tonight, when you had set up camp it had seemed like a storm was brewing.

You had already felt tense when you had noticed: growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate as a child with nowhere safe to go had traumatised you for life. Especially when it came to storms: too many nights you’d had to spend outside somewhere while the rain kept pouring down.

But worst had always been the thunder. Every single one like an explosion while a little child sat somewhere cowered trying to stay safe and crying from fear and loneliness. Even when you had gotten older and had always managed to secure a safe spot for sleeping and shelter the fear of thunderstorms had remained.

And thus far you’d gotten lucky that there had been no storms since this whole chaos had started. But the stroke of luck was over now it seemed.

When Astarion had thrown you certain looks after the party had gone to unwind each on their own after eating, you had very rambly and awkwardly suggested to maybe spend the night in your tent this night, because the others surely knew anyway and what if it started pouring and wasn’t it more comfortable anyway?

You just were desperate to not be somewhere outside when the thunderstorm was going to hit – and maybe even not alone.

And Astarion had looked at you suspiciously with a raised eyebrow, surely noticing that something was up. But in the end, he had simply shrugged and followed you to your tent.

So now you lay pressed against each other. Astarion on top of you, his body delightfully weighing you down, both of your shirts already off and his hands kept roaming your body as you gratefully gave in to his open-mouthed kisses. His hand had just dipped below the waistline of your trousers when you could hear the first far away rumbling.

Immediately you tensed a little but forced yourself to try and not be bothered by it. Astarion’s kisses wandered down your throat now.

A second already much louder rumble. You gasped.

And apparently Astarion had noticed that it wasn’t because of his touch – you could almost feel how he had furrowed his brows. But he kept silent and continued to kiss and caress you, leaning on one of his forearms.

When a third roar of thunder made you actually wince and recoil, he pushed up on his arm and looked at you. The other hand though stayed right where it was inside your pants.

“Afraid of a little thunder, love?”, he said and cocked an eyebrow. His tone wasn’t even overly sassy but you still couldn’t help but to feel hurt.

More thunder. This time so loud it felt like it was exactly above you. You recoiled again and felt how panic rose in you. You pushed the vampire - who actually looked hurt by that - off of you. His hand slipping from where it had caressed you.

“Maybe I am afraid of thunder. So?”, you spat back while you sat up and hugged your knees to your naked chest. As much as you wanted the comfort of his arms: panic and whatever feeling it had been that had overcome you when Astarion had looked hurt when you’d pushed him back got the better of you.

Shame mixed with the fear and you could feel your throat close up.

Astarion had knelt back on the balls of his feet watching you with a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. He definitely didn’t seem as cocky as a few moments ago though.

You looked away as another thing spiced up the mix of emotions running high: worry, that you had just broke something that couldn’t be repaired.

“I-“, Astarion started and then stopped helplessly.

The vampire was actually worried about you in this moment. Astarion was surprised by the sudden outburst of emotion and he was certainly hurt that you pushed him away. But more than anything: he didn’t know what to do now. Quite obviously you were not in the mood anymore for getting down and dirty.

It occurred to him that he did not want you to be afraid and upset. But then again, he had no idea how to make it so. And on top of that: he was pretty sure you weren’t interested in anything of the sort. Sure, you were absolutely the one person he talked the most to in the party. And yes, you were always making sure he’d gotten enough blood – but that was probably because you had need of him being his fittest for fighting. Also, you did actually seem to care about what had happened to him, wanting to learn more about him – but…

The vampire was confused and helpless. So he opted for the one option he deemed reasonable: leave.

He grabbed his shirt and started pulling it over his head while saying: “Alright, since it seems there won’t be any naughty indulgence tonight, I guess I better get back to my tent and you can try and-“

He was interrupted by you grabbing his wrist firmly.

“Please”, you pleaded, “don’t leave me alone.”

You were desperate: you didn’t want him to leave, you didn’t want to have ruined the delicate thing that had been forming between you.

Astarion let his shirt drop again and looked at you. Your eyes were filled with tears and full of fear. His confusion became even more: “Darling, I’m not… Maybe you should ask the druid to… help you. Maybe he has something herbal to-“ You basically yanked on the vampire’s arm.

“No please, Astarion, I just… want you to stay here with me. Just… hold me? Please?”, you pleaded with him as tears started to stream down your face.

You really didn’t want to be alone for one but also you were desperate to feel his arms around you again – to be sure he would still want to hold you, as much as wanting his comfort.

Astarion’s brows furrowed again but he dropped his shirt again and crawled over to you as you shyly opened up your arms to him to be cradled by the vampire. He slid his arms around you and softly moved you until you were laying there: him on his back with you carefully snuggled up against his chest – skin on skin.

The relief you felt was almost instant. Not only because he had agreed to stay but also feeling his body against yours immediately made some of the tension inside you ease.

Astarion reluctantly started to stroke your back as you buried your face against his chest. It all felt more than just a little awkward and you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, but you just wrapped your arms around the vampire and tried to calm yourself.

Still tears kept coming and thunder was rolling in quicker now. Then the rain started as well and became a constant drumroll on your tent. The loud rumbles kept going and made you wince from time to time, but it was now considerably better than before.

Astarion grew more confident with just stroking your back. He even carefully placed a kiss on the top of your head at one point, in your all messed up hair. You both eased into this rather unfamiliar form of closeness.

After being stressed about the coming storm all evening, you felt that your body couldn’t retain the tension anymore. You weren’t entirely sure what all this meant for Astarion and you, but you forced yourself to just stay in this moment. Because this already was something you wouldn’t have thought to ever be possible. It was tender and sweet. Something you would have never imagined when this vampire had, upon first meeting him, thrown you on the ground and threatened you with a knife.

You were so desperate to hold onto this. So, you wrapped your arms around him a little tighter and cautiously tangled your legs with his. He let it happen.

And Astarion – Astarion’s mind was racing, utterly confused by the turn the night had taken. It definitely wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy this outcome – to his own surprise. Quite the opposite actually.

When the thunder subsided and the rain tap-tap-tapping on the tent ceiling was what remained of the storm and he felt you quite noticeably relax into his arms even more – his chest started to ache.

He was overthrown by his own sentiment and the trust you put into him; surprised, scared even.

In his thoughts Astarion kept turning around the fact how you had specifically asked him to stay with you although you had so visibly been upset. More upset even than he had ever seen you in any battle. And that you had wanted nothing but to be held in his arms. And he – to his own surprise – had been happy to be there for you, proud even, realising that he really wanted you to be alright.

You hadn’t even talked since he had taken you in his arms. Just felt the connection, your skin warm on his. His hands hesitatingly caressing and trying to comfort you while your tears subsided and your breathing became more even.

And even though it had been you who had pleaded for comfort – Astarion could feel it too. Felt, how the warmth of your body soaked into his undead body and your breath brushed over his naked upper body – now in a steady and calm rhythm again. You were so close, he could even feel the beat of your steadying heartbeat through your conjoined chests.

And when Astarion was sure that you must’ve drifted off into your dreams – because he had held you – he kept staring up at the ceiling of the tent.

The rain had become almost non-existent after what must’ve been hours now.

The vampire’s chest still ached with something he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge yet. But he could feel that it had become something way too big to ignore. Something that would soon be unleashed – for better or for worse. And he was frightened about that.

But not in this moment. This moment he would hold onto. So he wrapped his arms around you a little tighter still, closed his eyes and full on buried his face in your hair while he was so fully aware of the feeling of your body against his.

Then he whispered so silently, even the last of the raindrops would have drowned out the words. So silently, because he was still so unsure, so scared and the words were only meant for him – and maybe sometime for you: “My love, what ever have you done to me?”

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #tav #one shot #drabble #bg3

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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 6: One Step Closer

Summary: You're all trying to adjust to the changes happening between you and the members of your pack.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, some Price x Gaz

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, suggestive content, handjobs, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language

A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this one and might come back when I feel better and do some changes, but for now, it's fine. Mostly just a filler chapter more than anything. Some sweet moments, some maybe steamy...Building up for some more exciting things coming in the next parts. Also I just wanted to clear something up, pretty much everyone in this universe is at least a little bisexual. That will make sense once you read the chapter.

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(Gif found on Google)

He curses the click of the door as it opens, making sure to go slowly so it doesn’t squeak as it’s prone to when it rains. His lips turn up in a smile as he catches a glimpse at the sight on the couch, no more than half a moment before Price’s honed senses cause him to wake at the change in atmosphere.

He blinks tired eyes at Gaz, head lifting from where it had drooped to his chest in his sleep. He adjusts his hold on you, still asleep and unaware in the safety of your alpha’s arms.

“Sleeping in your office again, sir?” Gaz says quietly, stepping closer to the couch.

Price grunts quietly, shifting his hold on you so he can lift a hand to rub at his eyes. His voice is thick and gravelly with sleep as he answers. “Didn’t mean to.”

Gaz hums, running a hand through Price’s hair as the air between them changes from Captain and Sergeant to alpha and beta. “Should get you both to bed.”

“You take her.” Price murmurs. “She’ll forgive you easier for invading her space.”

Gaz knows he’s right. He’d already been invited in once. His scent in your space would be less jarring than Price’s. Price carefully unravels your arms from around his neck, letting Gaz slip his arms under you to lift you off his lap. You stir slightly at the movement, letting out a quiet grumble.

“Shh pretty girl.” Gaz shushes you, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “Just taking you to bed.”

Price follows behind him as he carries you through the halls to your room. You’re asleep by the time he reaches your door, Price opening it for him. Gaz slips in, carrying you to your bed. He makes sure you’re comfortable, tucking the blanket around you before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

He spares one last glance at you fast asleep before he closes the door, turning to Price. “Your turn.”

“You gonna carry me too?” Price asks, a playful glint shining in his eyes despite the obvious exhaustion.

Gaz huffs out a laugh. “You wish.” He puts a hand on his back, guiding Price down to his door, closest to the entry to the barracks.

He follows the alpha into his space, meticulously clean and tidy as usual. They both blink against the harsh overhead light, Gaz leaning against the door as Price begins emptying his pockets, getting settled in his space.

“She knelt for me tonight.” Price says as he sits at his desk to unlace his boots.

“She’s making headway.” Gaz replies, surprised that you asked to kneel so soon. He knows how meaningful kneeling is to both alpha and omega, how intense it can be, how much trust there is involved.

Price hums, standing to remove his pants. “I fear Laswell was right. She’s turning out to be a good fit.”

“She’s already got Simon worked up.” Gaz smiles, moving to the dresser to fish out clean sleep clothes. “I fear she may be taking a page out of Johnny’s book.”

“Well, if it gets him to stop torturing himself, then I can’t say I’ll complain.” Price says, pulling his shirt over his head. “You know how he is.”

“I know.” Gaz says, holding out the clean shirt and sweatpants. “Can’t say I blame him entirely. Not after what he’s been through.”

Price slips on the clean clothes, stepping closer to Gaz. “He’ll warm up to our girl eventually.”

“‘Our girl?’” Gaz’s eyebrows lift as Price steps in even closer, their noses brushing. “That’s quite the jump.”

“She’s been our girl from the start. As soon as those papers were finalized, there was no sending her back.” Price says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Gaz’s lips. “I wouldn’t put her through that. Not after everything.”

Gaz pulls back, Staring at Price’s face. “You know something.”

“I wouldn’t say I know anything, but I have my suspicions.” He moves past Gaz, turning off the overhead light. “I know we all do.”

“You think she’ll tell us?”

“I think she will, with time. I don’t want to push her into too much too soon.” He pats Gaz on the ass. “Come on, in bed.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Gaz smirks, Price giving him a look as the beta pulls down the covers, crawling into the bed.

Price groans internally, trying to calm the twitch in his pants at the mental picture of you, those big puppy eyes shining playfully as you saluted him. The small spark of excitement every time you call him “sir.” How easily you relaxed for him while you knelt, giving over complete trust and control to him for an hour.

He crawls under the covers, tossing an arm over Gaz, trying to block out all the mental images flashing through his head.

“Forget something in your pocket, sir?” Gaz says, the smirk evident in his voice.

“Shut it, Garrick.”

You’re jarred awake by the sound of movement in the hallway. You let out a quiet noise of indignation, letting your eyes close again. It’s too early, around the time the boys leave to go workout. You’ve been graciously given a couple days off to rest and recover, likely Price’s recommendation. You knew if it were up to Ghost, he’d force you to work through the pain. You’re glad for the break, though, and you would be even if you weren’t horribly sore.

Your head is still spinning a bit from last night. You’re not quite sure how you made it to bed, but the faint scent of clean linen and the sea gives you an idea. You bury your face in your pillow, letting out a groan. You knelt for Price last night. You opened yourself up to that vulnerability, and he had graciously guided and supported you through it. He didn’t scruff you, even though he could have, nor was there any demand for control in his grasp, he could have easily taken it.

He’d been a good alpha, helping you relax and destress. You feel lighter for the first time in weeks, since you found out where you were going and who your new pack was going to be. You feel lighter than you have in your entire time on this base, though that could just be the endorphins still flowing a bit from kneeling for your alpha.

It’ll be easier to come down from it once you’re bonded, you know that. Once there’s that connection between you, and you’re around him all the time. You’ll be moving into his room, or at least you’ll spend most of your time in there. You’ll sleep in his bed with him. You wonder if he’s a cuddler, or if he prefers personal space. Would Gaz join you sometimes? You can practically feel the warmth of being sandwiched between them, battle hardened hands trailing along your bare body because you’ll be naked and well bonded with both of them.

You bury your burning face in your pillow letting out a muffled, quiet scream at the thoughts your mind is conjuring. You feel hot, warmth pooling in your stomach. There’s no going back to sleep now, you know that.

You get up, rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face and erase the thoughts in your head. It’s entirely natural, having these thoughts. You will get to that place, very soon, with Price. The others could pursue that sort of relationship with you as well, if they wanted to. It will likely happen naturally with Gaz, given his bond with Price, and after your kiss with Soap...

You’re not sure if it would happen with Ghost, or if he would allow it. You can’t help but think about yesterday, how easily he had overpowered you with just his scent. You had been scared, as it was your nature to be when an alpha was posing a direct threat to you, but the way he had looked hovering over you, the feeling of him pressed against you when he’d pinned you to the floor. How easily he got you into that position. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of him pinning you down like that, or better, pinning you against Soap, his hand on the back of your neck.

You splash cold water on your face, holding your breath until your lower body stops pulsing in time with your heart. You let out a quiet curse, focusing on getting ready for the day before grabbing your book and heading for the rec room to try and calm yourself.

“You’re up early, love.”

You jump at the voice, lowering your book as you look up from your spot stretched out on the couch. Gaz is standing there, skin dewy with sweat. They must have just returned from their morning workout, heading in to shower and get ready for the day. Gaz must have noticed your scent and followed it.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” You explain as he moves closer to the couch. “Gaz!” You shriek as he crawls over you, dropping his body on top of yours. “You’re all sweaty!”

“You can shower later.” He says, resting his face against your chest, his elbows pressed into the cushions so he’s not completely squishing you with his weight.

“You should be showering now.” You say, trying not to breathe in too much of his scent. It’s heavily tainted with the scent of sweat and musk.

“Then we can shower together.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face further into your chest.

Your face warms, your heart rate picking up at his teasing. The thought of being enclosed in the shower with him, such a small space, packed in together. Skin to skin, bare before each other. You might implode beneath him, warmth beginning to travel down your spine after your thoughts earlier.

“Relax.” He murmurs with a grin, obviously picking up the quickening of your heart rate and the change in your scent. “I’m teasing.”

He’s just as bad as Soap, but not quite as blatant with it. While Soap would tease at any open opportunity, Gaz tended to choose his moments wisely, slipping some teasing remark in when you least expected it.

Gaz goes quiet as he lays there, his breathing steady. You mark your page before reaching up to set the book on the arm of the couch. You can’t help yourself as you run your fingers through his short cropped, damp curls, gently scratching at his scalp. He makes a quiet noise, his body getting heavier.

“Gaz?” You murmur, earning a grunt in response. “Are you falling asleep?”

“Can’t help it.” He murmurs. “So comfy.”

Your cheeks warm as he nuzzles into your chest, letting out a content sigh. You fight the urge to release one of your own, feeling warm and content even pressed against the lumpy cushions of the couch. How easy it is to find comfort even in the most uncomfortable places.

It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable.

Your heart rate kicks up again, hand stilling where it had been scratching Gaz’s scalp. You’re allowed to want. You asked yesterday and nothing bad happened.

“Gaz?” You murmur, trying to fight the nervous twisting of your stomach. “Would you...if I wanted something, would you get it for me, even if it’s stupid?”

Gaz shifts on top of you, knees pressing into the couch as he pushes himself higher so you’re face to face. One of his legs is between yours, holding him up so he doesn’t squish you under his weight.

He stares down at you, blinking the haze of sleep from his dark eyes. “Babygirl, I’d take over the world for you if that’s what you wanted.”

Your lips part in surprise at his answer. You’re not entirely sure he’s allowed to say something like that, even as a joke. The sentiment of it is not lost on you, and you find tears prickling the backs of your eyes.

His arms shift beneath you, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what you want.”

You stare up into those big, sweet, dark eyes. Gaz radiates a kindness and calmness like you haven’t felt in a long time. Not that the others aren’t kind, even in Ghost and his aggressiveness, you’ve felt the protective drive within him. It wasn’t based on any claim or sense of ownership, even a sense of duty couldn’t bring forward that kind of reaction. But Gaz...there’s just something so soft and gentle despite the danger he could pose.

“Kiss me.” You blurt out, realizing you’ve been staring for far too long.

Gaz stares down at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Just that? Here I thought you were gonna say something impossible like world domination.”

“Well, if you’re offering...” You shrug.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Probably shouldn’t be making those jokes.” He leans down closer. “Though, if you asked nicely...”

You let out a quiet sound as his lips press against yours. They’re just as soft as they look, pressing against yours so gently and softly. Your arms lift to his shoulders, curling into the fabric of his shirt. He coaxes your lips to move with his, copying his movements as he tilts his head slightly.

Warmth blooms beneath your skin as he kisses you, your head spinning. His scent invades your nose, seeping into your very being. You want to curl up in it, let it surround you like a warm blanket. You catch the whiff of something deeper, the scent of damp earth. Price. You have a sudden urge to pull his shirt collar to the side, to stare at the mark that decorates his scent gland at the base of his throat, a mirror of the one you’ll carry in a few short weeks.

“Ye didnae tell me ye were startin’ a cuddle pile!”

An excited voice causes you both to separate, Gaz barely managing to lift himself up enough so that you don’t get squished when Soap practically jumps on his back.

“Bloody hell, mate,” Gaz grunts. “Tryna squish our poor omega?”

The weight above you shifts before Soap’s head appears over Gaz’s shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “Mornin’ hen!”

“For someone so small, you weigh a ton.” Gaz says with a strain to his voice as sweat breaks out across his forehead from keeping his weight and Soap's off of you.

“I'm no that small.” Soap says, an offended tone to his voice as he goes limp on top of Gaz.

You can't help but giggle at their antics, especially as Gaz pushes himself up to a kneeling position, nearly sending Soap rolling to the floor. Your face is warm from your giggling as they both stand, playfully pushing each other.

“Alright, enough you two.” Price's voice cuts through their playful arguing, amusement shining in his eyes as he leans on the doorframe. “Almost time for breakfast.”

“Come on.” Gaz says, taking your hands and helping you up. “Let's get some pancakes in you before you turn into one.”

“You should try courting her.” Kyle says, scrolling through his phone as he lounges on John's bed. “Like old-fashioned courting.”

“What are you on about?” John grumbles, drying his face with a towel.

“Our little omega. You should try courting her.” Kyle repeats, looking over his phone at John.

John tosses his towel into his hamper before approaching the bed. Kyle lets his eyes rake over his form, his strong arms and soft stomach, thick, strong thighs and the prominent bulge at the front of his briefs.

“It would be worth a try.” Kyle continues, letting John pull the phone from his hands. “Omegas love that shit.”

“And what prompted this thought?” John asks, laying down on his side next to Kyle, pulling the younger man closer.

“She's getting all worked up by us now.” He says, biting back a groan as John trails a hand over his side. “She's kissed Soap and I so far. Got all worked up when I teased her about showering together this morning.” His hand trails through John's short hair as John licks at his throat. “I think she'd enjoy a little attention from her alpha.”

“What do you have in mind?” John murmurs before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Kyle's throat.

Kyle shrugs, letting out a gasp as John bites at his throat. “Take her out for dinner? Buy her some things for her room? Give in to those alpha cravings a bit.”

John lets out a low growl, pinning Kyle on the bed beneath him. Kyle's lips lift in a smirk, fingers lifting to run through John's beard. His thumb drags across John's lower lip, gaze soft as he stares up at the alpha.

“You won't ruin anything by doing it. There's only so much time until her heat. If I were an alpha, I'd want her to be as comfortable as possible before then. Makes the shift into bonded pack life much easier.” Kyle says.

John leans down until their noses brush, groaning softly as Kyle digs his fingers into his shoulders. He knows Kyle is right. He should make an effort with you, at least try to ensure you're as comfortable around him as possible before he claims you. Most alphas wouldn't have waited for the first heat, wouldn't have even waited a week before claiming, before taking their omega to bed. He doesn't want to be like those alphas. He doesn't want to force you into more than you already have been, more than you will be.

He wants things to happen as naturally as possible, but that doesn't mean he can't try.

Kyle leans up, closing the distance between them and kissing him. He presses his beta back into the mattress, nipping harshly at his lips. Their tongues tangle together, tasting like peppermint toothpaste and something distinctly alpha and beta.

John presses his body closer to Kyle's groaning as his half hard cock drags against Kyle's. Kyle moans into his mouth as John begins grinding against him. Their bodies move together, a familiar dance they've both memorized the steps to.

John groans as Kyle's fingers trail down his back, blunt nails biting into the skin. Breathy moans slip from kiss-bruised plump lips as John kisses down Kyle's throat. Calloused fingers slip under the waistband of John's briefs, teasing the soft supple skin beneath. John grinds down against him harder, dragging his leaking cock against Kyle's twitching one.

“Fuck, Cap.” Kyle groans, bucking up against his alpha. “Lemme feel you.”

John wraps his arms around Kyle, flipping them over so he's on top. Kyle makes quick work of his boxers, tugging John's briefs down roughly. He groans, licking his lips at the sight of his alpha's leaking cock.

“Like what you see, pup?” John asks, lips lifting in a smirk.

“Fuck yes.” Kyle breathes, settling himself on John's thighs.

He leans down, wrapping a hand around both his and John's cocks. John groans as Kyle begins stroking them both, his cock twitching as more precum slips from his tip. He's close, the pent up frustrations from the last couple days along with the tantalizing scent of omega driving him to near insanity.

He feels like he might pop a knot as Kyle picks up the pace, one hand braced against his chest, his hips rocking in short thrusts. His head falls back as his orgasm slams into him, hit cum spurting across his stomach. Kyle groans loudly, frantically pumping his own cock as he reaches his peak, spurting his spend across his alpha's stomach too.

“Made quite the mess, Sergeant.” John says, trailing his fingers through the mix of cum on his stomach.

“Would you like me to clean it up, sir?” Kyle smirks, opening his mouth to allow John's fingers to push in.

His tongue swirls around his thick fingers, lapping them clean. Kyle shifts on top of him, bending down and trailing his tongue across John's stomach, licking up their mess.

“Good boy.” John hums, gently cradling the back of Kyle's neck.

The sky is dark as you make your way from your room. Gaz and Price are nowhere to be found, your cheeks warming at the thought of where they could be and what they could be up to. You take a breath to steady yourself, and your scent, before you head into the rec room. Soap and Ghost are there, Soap on the opposite end of the couch as usual, and Ghost in the chair next to the couch that faces the door.

He sees you first, his shoulders squaring just a bit. Soap turns to the doorway, a typical grin splitting his face when he sees you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen anyone be happy to see you, and you can’t deny that Soap’s joy is a bit contagious. He’s like an excited puppy. You can imagine if he had a tail, it would be wagging non-stop.

“Come tae join us, hen?” He asks, holding out a hand.

Ghost’s eyes are sharp as they stare at you, the silent warning not lost. You’re infringing on their space, infringing on his protective circle around his beta. You’re pushing a boundary and that could be dangerous.

It could be.

You move forward, taking Soap’s hand, letting him tug you down next to him on the couch. You ignore the eyes burning into you, boring holes into your skin as you settle in as close to Soap as you can. You almost smile in victory as Soap drapes his arm across the back of the couch, your attention turning to whatever is playing on the TV.

Ghost and Soap continue their conversation, Soap's fingers brushing your arm every so often. You can feel every time Ghost's burning gaze turns to you, every time he glowers at you for being so close to his beta. You can't help but wonder what's going through his mind, what he's thinking, what he's imagining.

You'll pay for this later.

You can only imagine how he'll punish you in your training for boldly breaching such an obvious boundary.

Soap doesn't seem to notice, or perhaps he simply doesn't care. It's not like you're not allowed to be close to Soap. As a member of your new pack, he had every right to pursue a bond with you if he wanted, regardless of how Ghost felt. Even though they're bonded, Soap is still his own person.

It's almost ironic.

You're starting to feel the exhaustion of your early morning as the night drags on, your head getting heavier and heavier. Ghost's need to glower at you has lessened a bit, his eyes only on you whenever you shift or move. Your head has drooped onto Soap's shoulder, an idea forming in your mind. You're sure it's the exhaustion making you so bold, or perhaps your new belief that the only way you'll even stand a chance at getting through to Ghost is to push those boundaries and stand up to him.

You lift your head, shifting your body until you're laying on the couch, resting your head on Soap's thigh. You watch Ghost's hands curl into fists where they rest on his lap, his eyes burning through your head as you make yourself comfortable. Soap's hand sinks into your hair, massaging your scalp as you lay there, your lips curling into a content smile.

You know it has to be eating at him just a little. A content beta and a preening omega, an image of what he could have if he simply got over whatever is keeping him from accepting you.

“Tired, lass?” Soap's gentle voice pulls you from your thoughts. Your mind had started to doze a bit, trailing off with your thoughts.

You make a quiet noise in agreement, nuzzling against his thigh.

“Let's get ye tae bed.” He says, squeezing your arm.

You're not expecting Ghost to follow as Soap leads you from the rec room, your fingers entwined with his. Even in your tired state you can feel the icy stare at your back, the looming presence of the alpha behind you as Soap walks you to your door.

“Night, hen.” Soap murmurs softly.

You're sure it's the exhaustion making you delirious as you stand on your toes, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. Soap hums against your lips, bending down to follow you as you go to pull away. You ignore the tickling at the back of your neck as he presses another kiss to your lips, your hand reaching for your doorknob and the security of your room.

“Night, Soap.” You murmur, slipping into your room before Ghost makes a rash decision.

You're going to regret it later, but you certainly don't at this moment.

The fabric isn’t as soft as it used to be. It’s been worn too much, washed too many times. You’ve stitched the ripped seam back together, a bit sloppy but you can hardly tell thanks to the luck of finding thread the same color as the sweatshirt. You hold it in your hands, staring at the frayed edges, the loose strings. Well loved, some might call it. Garbage, others might think.

“Finally fixing the holes?”

The voice cutting through the silence makes you jump, your head whipping around to the door. Price is standing there, leaning against the doorframe.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He says.

“It’s alright, sir.” You say, calming your racing heart. You hadn’t even heard him approach. “I thought you were all at training.”

“I had a call I had to take.” He says, entering the room now that you’ve calmed. “Was heading back out when I caught a whiff of your scent.” He lowers himself onto the couch with a quiet groan, staring softly at you.

“I know it’s stupid, holding onto it when I could just ask for a new one.” You say, staring down at the sweatshirt in your hands.

“But it’s more than just a sweatshirt.” He says, tone soft and understanding.

You sink your teeth into your lip, fingers curling into the fabric in your hands. “One of the omegas at the institute gave it to me.” You say, holding the sweatshirt to your chest. “We were the same age so we were grouped together a lot and we got really close. She gave it to me when we reached selection age, since we both knew we were likely to get chosen fast and she wanted to give me something to remember her by. It’s a good thing she did too, because she did get chosen almost immediately.” You let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “I’ve held on to it ever since. It doesn't even smell like her anymore. Hasn’t for a long time.”

Price is quiet for a few moments, his eyes on your face. You can’t look at him, your gaze on the sweatshirt in your lap. “You loved her.” He finally says, his tone not accusing or even disgusted.

It’s understanding. Knowing.

You take a shaky breath, hands closing into nervous fists around the sweatshirt. “Institutes try everything they can to prevent omegas from bonding with each other. Makes it too hard to separate us once we come of age. Alphas don’t want a distressed, unhappy omega, they’re expecting an eager, willing addition to their pack. It’s hard though, when you spend literal years together experiencing the same thing to not form bonds with each other.”

Price huffs quietly. “My grandfather used to tell me about the traditional pack boom after World War 2. When militaries across the world began to forbid bonding and pack formation within ranks. They were spending more time and money on preventing it from happening than anything else. It didn’t take them long to realize it was easier to allow the organic bonds to form. It made soldiers stronger, gave them purpose. It’s easier to look away than to fight what nature intends sometimes.” He smiles at you, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. “We are the last people that will judge you for it.”

You know that. You've known that from the start. The way their scents mingle, their bonds. They're a bonded pack for a reason.

“She never knew. Or, I never told her. I don't know where she ended up or where she is now.” You shrug, letting out a sardonic huff. “It's a lonely existence sometimes, being an omega.”

“I can only imagine.” Price says, giving you a sad smile.

“I suppose I should just get rid of it.” You say, staring at the sweatshirt. “No use holding onto something that could have never been.”

Price squeezes your shoulder gently. “Wait here.”

He gets up, leaving you alone in the rec room. You wait patiently for him to return, growing a bit nervous. What was he doing? Was he telling someone about your confession? Was he going to send you back because of it? You know your worries are unwarranted, but you can't stop them.

He returns a few moments later, a sweatshirt in his hands. “Here.” He says, holding it out to you. “They're standard issue, but I've never been one for sweatshirts. It's just been sitting in my closet.”

You take the sweatshirt, soft and new in your hands. It hardly smells like him, only the light residual scent from being in his room. “Thank you, sir.” You say, rubbing the fabric against your cheek.

He nods at your old sweatshirt. “This way you can save that one, and start picking this one apart.”

Your face warms at his cheeky comment, your head turning down bashfully. “It means a lot, sir. Really.”

“You'll get better use of it than I did.” He glances at his watch. “I best be getting back to the boys. We'll be back before dinner.”

“Wait-” You get up before he can leave, slowly approaching him with the sweatshirt in hand. Your face is burning as he stares down at you, eyebrows raised in waiting. “Will you...scent it?” You hold the sweatshirt out to him.

He looks surprised for a moment before he takes the fabric, rubbing his face and neck against it. He coats the sweatshirt in his scent, the smell of trees and petrichor filling your nose as you watch him. The back of your neck begins to prickle, the desire to roll in his scent getting stronger.

“Thank you, sir.” You say as he hands the sweatshirt back to you. “I'd...I'd also like to kneel again tonight, if that's alright.”

He smiles softly down at you. “Of course. I'll come and get you when I'm ready.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your head before he takes his leave.

You pull on Price's sweatshirt, burying your nose in his scent for a moment. A smile pulls at your lips as you grab your old sweatshirt, making for your room.

You can't wait for tonight.

Taglist:

#call of duty #call of duty fic #cod #cod fic #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #a/b/o #alpha beta omega dynamics

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jaylaxies · 9 months

Text

ROMAN HOLIDAY

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slight fluff, protected and unprotected sex, (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), cunnilingus, marking, creampie, mentions of petnames (princess, baby, darling, daddy), lots of kissing and brief mentions of smoking, stealing, running away from cops, drugs, somnophilia (consensual), etc.

WC: 10k words

SYNOPSIS: visiting your grandma’s place was more or less your entire plan for your summer vacations and only break you get before your university starts, although, meeting your neighbour, bickering with him and clutching his hand while running away from cops wasn’t in your bucket list.

PLAYLIST: welcome to wonderland by anson seabra, movement by hozier, if you let me by alina baraz, how to love by jen z, roman holiday by halsey.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my sweetest angels <3 i'm finally here with a jake fic which was long due! i hope you guys like it <33 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated :D loveyou all <3

Bagging a window seat for a day-long journey sure is a blessing, peculiarly when you have to stay sitting at your spot in a train for a sum of six hours. Nestled in your seat, you sit straighter when the scenic view of the sea water meeting the sky graces your eyes—which you capture on your phone’s camera with a soft smile.

It felt as if it had been ages since you got out of your room, where you used to be cooped up during the entirety of your day, studying for your final year of school.

Your parents were concerned. They were highly proud of you for achieving top honours, yes, but it was about time you went out and cherished your life a little before you got winded up in the stress of University yet again, which was to start in one month.

And what’s a better place to spend your vacations at if not at your granny’s home?

It was a few minutes past six when you finally reached your desired destination, dragging your luggage behind you as a swish of cold breeze hit you. It looked straight out of a movie with how the train station was lit up by old-fashioned lamps which radiated warmth just by glancing towards them.

You hugged your cardigan tighter, walking out to find the taxi stand just outside the exit area of the station, pulling out your phone to show the driver the address you’d be meaning to go to. He was a kind man, helping you put your luggage into the trunk of his taxi. Your curious eyes looked out, observing how much the town had changed over the years.

You were seven when you last visited her hometown. Ever since then, your grandma used to be the one who visited you in the city, at your place, however she did not wish to leave her town and move in with your family. You could see why she chose to stay here—the serene view, the freshness in the air, the tranquil surroundings, it made the corner of your lips curl up into a smile.

It only got wider once the driver stopped his taxi in front of your grandma’s house. It was exactly how you had remembered it to be—a small but two story house with a big veranda which was lit up by fairy lights on the big bushes. The back door connected the path towards the small pool and then yet another door linked the beach from your backyard.

Your grandma stood by the door with the fondest smile gracing her ever so beautiful face, a few grey strands fell on her face and you couldn’t help but get out of the taxi and run towards her, capturing her in an embrace. A hearty chuckle filled the air, the scent of your favourite cookies encapsulated you, making you wonder if she had baked a batch just for you as you snuggled further, her hand patting your head exactly the way she used to do ever since you were a kid.

“I missed you, grandma.” Your expression said it all, and she looked more than happy to usher you in the house, saying how chilly the night was and you made sure to pay the driver, thanking him for his service as you dragged the luggage in.

A wave of nostalgia hit you as your eyes wandered off to observe each corner, but your grandma didn’t hear any of it, making sure her granddaughter was well fed and rested after the long journey.

She spent a good while telling you embarrassing stories of your father during dinner, which you listened to with delight, sharing your own stories with zeal before you climbed up the stairs, opening the door to the room you used to use each time you stayed over as a child.

It didn’t change, the bed was still too big for you, the windows were spotless as if it had been cleaned frequently and the scent of old books paired with a tinge of vanilla filled your senses. Your body felt calm and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this way.

Calling your parents, you updated them by telling you had reached safely as you walked in the balcony, feeling comfortable in a sweatshirt and cotton shorts. The night sky resembled a velvet blanket full of glistening stars.

However, a figure clad in all black captured your attention. It was a bit beyond one in the morning, which is why it was unsettling to see someone walk in such dim lights. The stranger made his way towards your neighbouring house, making you wonder if he lived there.

Shrugging, you sighed. Sitting at one place for hours does tire your body, so you proceed to finally get into your cozy bed, setting an alarm before your grandma comes in to check if you require anything.

“Sweet dreams my little peanut,” your grandma smiled, closing the door behind you as you replied back with a gentle voice.

“Sweet dreams, Gigi!” It was a nickname you used for her, she found it lovely.

The placid atmosphere and the distant sound of waves acted as a catalyst to your sleep, and you slept soundly, not knowing that the calmness was just a start to your inevitable venture—something no one could have prepared you for.

You found yourself walking alongside your Gigi to visit the lady next door in the afternoon. She was a kind soul—as stated by your grandma, not to mention that she treated her like her own family, making sure to provide help whenever she could and that’s the reason why you were going to meet her.

It wasn’t the first time; apparently you used to play in their veranda a lot as a child, which again, you didn’t remember. However, when the lady—Mrs. Sim, opened the door, the memories came rushing back to you. She was jolly, almost as if she was waiting for your arrival and soon, you were engulfed into a sweet hug.

She called out your name in sheer excitement, leaning back to take a good look at your face, which sported a silly smile due to embarrassment.

“Aw, love. You’ve grown into such a pretty young lady,” she gushed, ushering you both inside and into the living room area.

“And you don’t look a day over twenty, Mrs. Sim,” you replied, not lying considering how youthful she appeared to be.

Her smile only widened at your comment, “now, another word and I’ll be floating in the clouds,” she said, making you chuckle as you got engaged in a conversation, sipping on the cranberry juice which Mrs. Sim had so kindly offered you.

It was decided that you’d be having lunch together, and you tried your best to help the two women in the kitchen but you were soon shoved out, saying you don’t have to do a thing and rest—that’s the purpose of your vacations.

Which made you sit down and use your phone, scrolling through random apps and replying to all the texts.

“Y/n!” Soon, you were called into the kitchen, and you poked your head in with a smile.

“Yes, Gigi?”

“Oh, peanut, can you please go upstairs and call Jake for lunch? It’s almost done.” She asked.

You tilted your head in confusion, mind wandering back to the guy you had seen last night and you came to the conclusion that Jake might be Mrs. Sim’s son.

You nodded, heading up the wooden staircase. Would you have to introduce yourself to him? Would it get awkward? You had no clue.

Knocking on the door twice, you took a step back and patiently waited for the door to open and so, you tried again to no avail. You wondered if he had his headphones on, which left you with no choice but to open the door, peeking in slightly only to find the room empty.

“Oh,” you let out, closing the door behind you for the sake of privacy.

“He’s not in his room,” you informed Mrs. Sim.

She sighed, serving a good portion of food for all of you, “I could have sworn he didn’t go out,” she shook her head as you three sat down. You let the elders start eating first and only then you picked up your chopsticks to do the same.

“I haven’t seen him in a while, what’s the tough guy up to?” Your Gigi asked.

“He’s busy enrolling himself into universities,” Mrs. Sim says, a sad smile taking over her face, “he says he doesn’t want to leave me and is aiming for nearby universities.”

“My my, isn’t he a darling boy?” Your grandma praised while you chewed on your food, which melted right in your mouth, silently eating while hearing them converse.

It didn’t take long for your grandma to ask them to come over for dinner the very next day, “it’s only fair that I cook for you too,” she argued when Mrs. Sim told her that she shouldn’t bother.

This time, your grandma let you help with the cooking, and of course, you were sent to invite the Sims over for dinner. You hugged your white cardigan close to your body—the nights tend to get chilly. Walking over to the neighbouring home, you rang the bell and were greeted with the sight of Mrs. Sim, who actually dressed up for the little dinner party.

“Oh, darling. Can you please call Jake down for dinner too?” She asked you as she was busy tidying up her own kitchen.

“Of course,” you smiled.

It was the second time you were heading up the stairs. This time, you were sure you’d be meeting the said boy. You found yourself standing right in front of his room yet again, gulping down your nervousness. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to introducing yourself to new people, school made sure you knew how to do that, however, your nerves were acting up.

With a deep breath, you knocked on the door, twice—just like the last time. The difference, however, was that the door was opened in this instance.

The scent of an intoxicating blend of masculinity and sophistication announced his presence, undertones of musk and wood laced up, providing him a complex aura altogether.

A tall guy with parted black hair leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow perfectly raised in question, his arms folded as his honey brown eyes with the slightest speckles of gold stared your way, his plump lips soon curling up into what seemed to be an assortment of a smile and a smirk.

“You must be Y/n,” he stated, standing up straight, which caused his muscles to flex enough to the point it was visible in his white button up.

You licked your lips unknowingly, moistening them up before you nodded, extending your hand for him to shake, “pleasure meeting you, Jake.”

His eyes travelled down from your face to your hand, a low chuckle left his mouth, him opening the door and stepping out, coming closer to you as he grabbed your smaller hand in his bigger, warmer ones in a firm handshake.

“I can see why my mom can’t stop talking about you,” he said, making you tilt your head in question, eyes never leaving his face which was captivating.

“And why is that so?” You asked, stepping back slightly as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Because you seem to be a good girl,” he breathed, making you go still as he leaned back with the same smirk, leaving you behind, walking down the stairs.

Now, you didn’t expect the situation to turn out this way, yet you knew that talking to him further would only cause your head to hurt.

What even made him think about you being a good girl?

Is it your outfit? Plain, loose jeans paired with a pink top and cardigan. It’s basic enough not to be categorized so easily.

You scoff to yourself, already hating the situation as you walk downstairs, only to find Jake with a smile that genuinely looked sweet while he talked to his mother, helping her lock the door.

“I see you met Jaeyun,” she smiled, and you nodded, sitting alongside her, not sparing a glance at the said boy as you didn’t even know his real name was Jaeyun.

The table was set for four, which made you sit right across from Jake, who’s demeanour had changed as he complimented your granny, who laughed at his sweetness.

“Here, have some more,” he says, serving another portion to your grandma, who cooed at his kind conduct at the table.

He made sure to be on his best behaviour, only in front of others but when his gaze fell towards you, a bored expression overtook his features, which no one paid attention to.

You rolled your eyes. It hadn’t even been a whole day since you met and yet the boy made you dread his presence. He wasn’t being straight up rude per se, however his actions weren’t subtle either just like how he completely ignored your existence during the entirety of the dinner.

He offered to clean up, which included him having to clean up your plate as well, which was something he did with a frown on his face as Mrs. Sim endorsed that he should help with the household work.

Both ladies were in awe of how well mannered Jake was, and it left you irritated to no end before Mrs. Sim called out your name softly.

“Jake’s been acting distant lately,” she told you in a soft voice, making sure the said boy doesn’t hear you both, “and comes home late from his part time work, doesn’t share a lot these days too,” she sighs before looking at you softly, “you’re such a lovely girl, Y/n. I’m sure Jaeyun would love to have you as a friend he can rely on. Will you please look after him?” She asked, eyes sincere with worry for her son.

Now, you were provided with two choices—one to say yes and agree, but you’d have to be in Jake’s proximity for that. The second one would be a plain no, which would sound disrespectful and insolent.

So you put on your most convincing smile, which turned into an unadulterated one when you saw her being concerned about her son, “of course, I’ll do that, Mrs. Sim.”

“Oh please! Call me auntie,” she swatted her hand at your formal usage of name and you laughed, agreeing.

Since the dinner was summed up now and the dishes were done, courtesy of Jaeyun; you were asked to walk them back home, which wasn’t even a two minute walk, however you couldn’t say no to your grandma and hence, you agreed.

Mrs. Sim—or your auntie Sim, thanked you for the dinner, and proposed to at least have one meal of the day together each day, which you thought was a lovely idea given that you had grown to like the lady.

You were just about to leave when she went inside but a firm grip on your wrist stopped you right away, making you look up at Jake in question.

“You don’t have to bother being my friend, you’ll only be a hindrance in my way,” he says smoothly.

Your expression turns sour, almost as if you were bored, “why? So you can keep your fake good boy persona up and going?” You said, mimicking his tone.

Not expecting such a reply, he let out a surprised scoff, mixed with the slightest chuckle, “so what? It doesn’t concern you. Or are you offended that I’m not actually good, like you,” he whispered, leaning close, which made you realize how tall he actually was, “you know nothing about me, princess.”

The nickname rolled off his tongue seamlessly, sending a shiver down your spine while you kept a straight face, trying not to seem affected at all.

“Neither do you know about me, Sim. So stop making assumptions and just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’ll take your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, saying it all in one go before turning around to leave.

“You should be scared of me,” he chuckles behind you.

“In your dreams,” you retorted, not sparing him another glance as your heart palpitated.

You had never talked to anyone in such a manner before, it gave a sense of newfound confidence—which you needed.

Jake simply watched you walk back to your place, shaking his head once you disappeared from his eyesight and still, a humorous smile never left his face.

You had updated your parents about your three days here and later called your friend to do the same, who was also busy with her own vacation bucket list, yet it was a refreshing talk given that you currently did not have much to do to entertain yourself.

Which left you to grab your swimwear and go for a swim—utilizing the pool in your backyard.

Gigi loved to sit by the pool and made sure that it was cleaned every now and then. She had gotten it cleaned right in the morning today, which also gives you an opportunity to use it.

The sunset casted a warm glow on the calm waves of the pool, the slight breeze in the air making it serene as you immerse yourself in the water, it closing you right in, feeling like a warm hug.

You started slowly with effortless strokes, enjoying the feeling of lukewarm water on your body. You stopped after a while, resting as you let your body float with your eyes closed.

“Enjoying ourselves, are we now?” A voice broke your state of tranquillity, your eyes opening in a swift and the water sloshed with how fast you turned around.

Of course, it was none other than Jake sim who sat on the pool lounge chair, arms behind his back as if he was sitting to enjoy the view.

“The fuck are you doing here?” You breathed out in question.

He looked at you, feigning disappointment as he leaned to look down at you, “oh, princess. Didn’t they teach you not to use such filthy words?”

His condescending tone only riled you up, “didn’t they teach you not to show up at someone’s place unannounced?” You mocked, getting out of the pool and trying to find your towel, only for you to realize he was sitting right on it.

“I’m simply here to get cumin from your grandma, we ran out of it, you see,” he explained, not sounding sincere as he let his eyes wander all over your wet body, barely covered with your bikini.

Your eyes, however, focused on the cigarette he took out from his pocket, making you gasp as you made your way towards him in an attempt to snatch it off his fingers.

Nevertheless, Jake was quicker to get up, grabbing your hand which was extended and pinning it up against the wall, his body pressed up against yours, successfully making your body go still with shock.

Yeah, you didn’t really adore your body’s fight or flight response.

“Fuck—” your eyes widened, yet he wasn’t the one to give you even a second to complain.

“Shh, princess. I don’t want a single bad word coming out of your mouth now, is that understood?” He asked, using his condenscending tone again.

You could feel every ounce of confidence which you had yesterday leaving your body as you stared into his honey eyes, an unconscious slight nod betraying you.

That satisfied him, although he didn’t bother changing his position, nor did he mind your wet body as he took out a lighter from his free hand, lighting up the flame, keeping it close to the cigarette which was pressed in between his lips.

Your eyes were transfixed on his face, observing how swiftly he closed the lighter, stuffing it in his pocket right before he looked away, blowing smoke into the air, giving you the greatest opportunity to stare at his consummate side profile.

He took the joint back in his fingers, returning his attention your way, “ever smoked before?” He asked, tone seemingly raspier.

Not trusting your voice, you simply shook your head as to provide him an answer.

He snickered, “of course you haven’t. It goes against your good girl rulebook, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up!” Your sudden outburst of anger only humoured him, even more so when you tried to snatch the cigarette from him using your free hand to prove him wrong.

He didn’t let it happen.

Instead, you found yourself looking right into his eyes with his slender fingers holding your chin in place. His breath was cool with a lingering smell of mint—which was probably due to the flavour of cigarette.

“Want it that bad now?” He raised his brows, “open your mouth,” he ordered, not giving you a second to comply, his thumb parting your lips as he desired.

He took a drag, inhaling the smoke deeply as you gulped, you could hear your heartbeat, or maybe that was simply how aware you were of your surroundings—your proximity with Jake.

Tilting his head, he leaned in again, mouth parted just the right amount. He let the smoke out and into your mouth in an agonizingly slow fashion, his lips on the verge of touching yours.

Your subconscious took over once you inhaled the smoke and it hit your throat. The burning sensation caused you to push him off as you coughed out in distress.

“Guess you can’t handle it, princess,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

You glared his way, composing yourself enough to actually snatch the cigarette from his fingers and take a deep puff, ignoring the way it burned your throat. It was your turn to surprise him by pulling him closer, grabbing his collar.

Your eyes were closed when you leaned in, blowing the smoke right into his mouth, causing him to take it all in, him never once closing his eyes. He stared at you with such intensity that you could feel it, despite your eyes being closed.

Once you were done, you breathed deeply, throwing the cigarette on the ground, “don’t get ahead of yourself, Sim,” that’s all you said before walking back into your home, rushing up the stairs and into your room just to avoid running into him again.

Only when you were in the safety of your room, you let out a frustrated scream right into your pillow.

Three days in your vacation and this boy had already driven you insane to the point you had smoked right into his mouth.

You took a warm shower before taking a nap—something you required to calm your heart before you saw him at dinner, again.

In contrast to yesterday, when he didn’t provide you with an ounce of attention, his behaviour had done a solid one eighty as now, he provided you with his utmost attention, passing you subtle smirks during the entirety of the dinner.

You were more than glad when auntie Sim distracted you by indulging in random conversations, and you can easily say you enjoyed the information she was providing you with at the given moment.

“And, and!” Auntie Sim said full of excitement, “Our Jaeyunie was four and you were three when it happened. He was so curious about you playing on the beach building sandcastles alone, he wanted to talk to you and so he collected flowers from our garden and gave them to you,” she cooed.

You looked at the boy, surprised with the information of him being a sweet baby. Now, he was the one who tried to stop his mother from spilling the stories any further, averting his gaze but you didn’t let it go.

“Aw! That’s so cute Jaeyunie. Where are my flowers now?” You asked, voice annoyingly high to bother him.

Your grandma laughed as auntie Sim only urged Jake to get some for you. He looked your way, annoyed and you only passed him a sweet smile.

You couldn’t deny, being a menace did feel good at times and the dinner wasn’t so bad after all.

Yet, the events of the evening didn’t let you sleep, causing you to walk on the balcony yet again and you couldn’t miss the figure clad in all black leaving your neighbour’s home yet again, at two after midnight nonetheless.

It wasn’t something you should be indulging in yet you couldn’t help but wonder.

What exactly was Jake up to?

In these ten days of vacation, you had done quite a few things which included learning a few recipes with your grandma, bickering with your neighbour, minus the proximity as you made your mission to stay away for the sake of your poor heart. Majorly, you had grown to adore the beautiful beach which was right behind your home.

Seeing how you had nothing to do in the given moment, you found yourself sitting on the warmth of the sand yet again, close enough for your feet to touch the water which was cold, juxtaposing the temperature of your body.

You didn’t know how long you sat there dazed, watching the never ending blue waves stretching as far as possible, till you gasped and got taken back into reality once a hand on your shoulder shook you in annoyance.

It was none other than Jake, who stood there with his jaw clenched, a bouquet of flowers resting in his right hand, causing you to raise your brows at him.

“Mom forced me to do this, okay?” He huffed, handing you over the multicoloured bundle of happiness.

It didn’t matter that it was Jake who gave you the flowers, it still made you happy, a smile growing on your face as the scent infiltrated your senses.

This certainly wasn’t the kind of reaction Jake was expecting from you. He was sure you’d throw a snarky remark or maybe simply not take the flowers from him, but even you couldn’t deny the beauty of nature.

“Thank you,” you whispered under your breath, surprising him even more.

It was one of the days you felt calm, not wanting to channelize your energy into something as useless as picking up a fight, however, Jake won’t leave without that happening.

“That’s it? You just need flowers to shut up?” He tantalizes you to answer back.

You only give him a sour look in return, wondering what he’s even doing on the beach wearing shoes, clad in leather jacket as if he was going for the cliché illegal races you see in movies.

“You should go, Jaeyunie,” you nodded with a fake smile.

Your phone started ringing just then, and Jake caught the display name right before you picked up the call.

It was Lee Heeseung—the guy who was your study partner in school and also the guy who was your competition when it came to academics.

The call wasn’t long, he had simply contacted you to inform you about the university he got into as you also filled him up with the university you got accepted into.

You assumed that Jake would have gone back, which wasn’t the case as he stood behind you, eavesdropping shamelessly. His expression turned into one of realization when he saw you actually smiling and talking sweetly to whoever was the guy who had called you, a scoff leaving his mouth on its own accord.

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Will text you later, goodbye!” You smiled, concluding the conversation only to find Jake still standing at the same spot, making you look at him in question.

“Didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” he said, seeming bored.

A sigh left your mouth, Jake was great at making assumptions, “why do you care?” You asked.

“I don’t,” he replied, not missing a beat, “I should go, I have work to do,” he said, walking back to his place.

Your lips worked before you could process anything, “yeah? Like you do every night?” You asked.

He stilled, turning back in a second and crouching down to your level, grabbing your nape, pulling you close to him, “don’t get involved in my matters, Y/n. I’m saying this for your own fucking good,” he seethed out, causing you to gulp, your heartbeat rising up due to the proximity again.

“What are you up to, Jakey?” You asked teasingly, trying to diffuse the tension.

“Nothing that concerns you, princess. I’m being serious, okay?” He held eye contact, repeating the last word again, and you nodded.

“Okay,” you mumbled as you felt him caressing your nape gently before he got up, leaving you there wordlessly.

You didn’t realize how hard you were clutching the flowers while watching his walking figure. The sudden mood switch made you curious, and despite him warning you, it was something you wanted to see for yourself.

Was he in trouble? Was he caught up in illegal activities? Or was he simply out partying somewhere?

Another sigh left your lips.

You shouldn’t get involved in his matters.

You got yourself involved in his matters.

Sneaking out of your home was easy and you made sure to grab your jacket as the night got chillier than usual. All this to follow Jake.

It was easy since he didn’t use any cars, walking towards his desired destination. It almost felt comical how you tried to tiptoe for a total of fifteen minutes, hiding in random alleyways whenever you made even the slightest noise of stepping on a pebble.

For a second you even regretted coming out and spending so much energy on this, till you saw Jake actually stop and get inside an alleyway, which you approached exactly two minutes after he went in.

Peeking in, you noticed how wide the way actually was, people clad in black and hoodies which hid their faces were present all over, more than thirty people you’d estimate.

You squint your eyes to get a better focus of what they were up to, only for them to widen in realization when you found them exchanging packets and smoking what looked like drugs. Jake was also engaged in a conversation with a guy, purchasing drugs from him, which caused you to gasp slowly.

“Looking for something, kid?” A deep, hoarse voice spoke near your ear, causing you to flinch and move away, turning around to see a guy full of tattoos smiling down at you, which disgusted you.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, looking towards your right to see Jake looking your way, eyes full of shock and worry as he whispered your name under his breath, not believing that you’d actually follow him there despite him saying a firm no to you.

Maybe he was right, maybe you shouldn’t have come here.

“Uhm, I—I lost my way back home. I’ll get going now, I didn’t see anything I promise! You guys please continue,” you said, trying to sprint but the guy was quick to hold your jacket, making you stop as Jake rushed your way, leaving whatever he was up to.

Before anyone could take up any action, the sound of police sirens alerted everyone in the vicinity, which was more than enough for all the guys to scramble as you stood there with panic, trying to move your body seeing how the guys were climbing up the wall full of graffiti on the other side as it was the only way to their escapade.

“Run,” Jake breathed out, grabbing your smaller hand in his without any notice and running towards the same way, his jaw was clenched.

You followed wordlessly, mouth open with how deeply you were breathing, chest heaving up and down while you ran and reached the wall.

The sirens got closer as if someone had tipped the cops to search this particular area and you were worried if you both would get caught up in this mess.

“Jump,” he commanded and you stared at the wall, shaking your head.

“I—I can’t,” you stuttered, watching how the others claimed it

He pulled you closer, picking you up with ease as to provide you with some kind of elevation, which definitely helped when you grabbed on to the top brick, pushing your body up and jumping to the other side, stumbling slighting as you fell down.

Jake was swift, landing by your side before he grabbed your hand again, pulling you up with him to run again. Your legs hurt yet you didn’t stop till he pulled you by his side, getting a bobby pin out of his pocket to unlock the door, which he opened in a go and pulled you inside, locking the door.

Silence.

Your breathing is all you could hear, but Jake’s eyes were louder than anything else, which scared you even further.

“I specifically told you to stay out of it, what’s so hard to understand here?” He more or less shouted, pushing you against the wall.

You gulped, not looking at his face but he wasn’t having it, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look his way.

“What if they did something to you? What if the police caught you? What if something had happened to you?” His voice got smaller after each sentence, more breathy and desperate, making your heart break when he genuinely made it seem like he cared about you.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, which probably wasn’t helpful at the given second, “I thought that you were in trouble and,” you whispered, not having more to say.

He sighed, resting his forehead on yours as his eyes closed to get some rest. You couldn’t move, your whole body felt more alive than ever, maybe it was the adrenaline rush, or simply Jake being so close to you.

He stepped back after a few seconds, “go change,” he said, and that’s when you looked around to find yourself in a boutique full of clothes.

“W—why?” You asked.

“Because the cop saw us, he knows what we’re wearing,” he answered, trying to find clothes his size.

Maybe he saw you when you were climbing up, meaning that you barely escaped him.

“But surveillance cameras? Technically, won’t this be considered stealing?” You bit your lip.

“There are none,” he replied, “and we have more pressing matters than to sit and worry about stealing.”

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking your way, trying to find some outfit, or rather, you were stealing it given the circumstances.

“So, why were you out there?”

“I should be asking you that, Y/n,” he said when you went into the changing room.

“You had drugs with you!” Your voice boomed from the stall and he simply took off his shirt in the store.

“So what?” He uttered, pissed.

“Did you smoke drugs that day too? Did you give me drugs?” You screeched while asking and he opened the curtains, seeing you soothing the top down.

“I don’t fucking do drugs,” he groaned, “I buy it and sell it to the guys next town at a higher price,” he explained.

The dim light from the changing stall only enhanced Jake’s shirtless body, his abs full on display alongside his torso, which was well built. Your eyes settled on the tattoo he had on his left side of the rib.

Taking a step further, your fingers gently traced the intricate design, making him shiver without you knowing, his fingers clasping around your wrist to keep it away again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He whispered.

“I—” you started speaking, looking at him with wide eyes which shone of innocence and worry, lips jutted in the slightest pout and hair slightly messy.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes out, not letting you complete your sentence, coming closer to your face, “why do you have to do everything I tell you not to do?” He asked, however his tone wasn’t filled with anger.

It was something you quite couldn’t pinpoint yourself.

He sighed, “let’s get you home.”

“Are we gonna walk back? Isn’t it too dangerous?” You asked as he turned around to put on a shirt averting your eyes from his back which flexed with his movements, your body felt warm and throat parched, especially when he turned around with a smirk.

“We’re driving back home.”

You soon found yourself on a lookout at the garage entrance of what Jake called an illegal garage which was used for repairing old racing cars. The place wasn’t authorized, which is why stealing from here would work perfectly.

“How do you even know this?” You asked, exasperated as your nerves got the best of you.

It certainly didn’t help that the place was dark, and Jake wasn’t replying as he was hot wiring the car without a number plate

You had no idea where he learned that from.

“You need to learn things if you want to survive in this world, darling,” he said, focusing on his work, not once thinking how you’d shiver with his use of nicknames.

He’s glad it’s not some new high tech car, which he won’t be able to hot wire as they contain ignition immobilizers, which makes it impossible for it to happen—you nodded as he explained all of this, your focus elsewhere.

“Let’s go,” he said after a few minutes, seemingly done with his work.

You rushed to get into the car, a scream leaving your mouth as he started driving almost instantly, his fingers gripping the steering wheels hard enough for his veins to pop out as you struggled to put on the seatbelt.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you let out in half a scream.

“Why? Not having fun now, princess?” He chuckled as he changed the gear, resting his hand on your thighs right after which caused you to squirm around in your seat.

Your body was extra attentive when he was around, and you weren’t sure how to control your heart anymore, so you closed your eyes.

“What’s so fun about this?” You asked, clutching the seatbelt.

“You,” he confessed, messing up with your brain even further.

“I hate you,” you mumbled, looking elsewhere.

You didn’t trust his driving despite it seeming effortless, he was over speeding after all.

“Now, we both know that’s not true, princess,” he stated and you huffed, knowing that he was right ignoring the fact that he was insufferable.

His pace ensured you to reach home in record time, your legs felt wobbly the second you stepped on the road.

“Stay here, I’ll be back in a second,” he rushed, leaving you standing alone as he parked the car outside a random garage two minutes away from your place.

It was hard to believe how you got chased by police, stole clothes and a fully functional car all in one night.

You saw him jogging back to you after a few minutes, standing right in front of you, “I think I should get back now,” you started to stay, however he stopped you.

“You can’t do that, your gate’s got a surveillance camera so we need to go from the back side,” he stated, his hand automatically reaching for yours as you started to make way towards the back side, on the sand.

All of a sudden, you felt smaller, heat creeping up your neck due to the body contact and you let him guide you wordlessly before you realized something.

“Wait, how will you go back? Your place doesn’t have a back door,” you asked and he shrugged.

“I’ll just jump to the other side of the garden wall, princess. You don’t need to worry about me,” he teased and you pushed him away, the warmth of his hand leaving yours.

Tiptoeing into your home, you shut the back door as silently as possible before you rushed up the stairs and almost into your room, only to find Jake coming up with you.

“What are you doing?” You whisper asked, eyes wide.

“I’m curious about your room,” he answered with that usual smirk of his and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face.

“You—” you tried to say, but stopped the second you heard another voice.

“Oh, Peanut? You’re awake?” Your grandma’s voice called out from the balcony, and your mouth hung open as you shoved Jake into your room in an effort to hide him.

“Y—yes, Gigi! I woke up to get some water,” you lied, wincing slightly as she acknowledged it and wished you a good night in her soft tone.

You rushed in and locked the door, only to find Jake getting cozy in your bed.

It was one of those days when your grandma missed your grandpa, and she spent hours on the balcony, looking at the glistening stars to find solace. You felt sad but the more pressing matter here was—how to get Jake out of your room?

He can’t leave from the back door, he can’t go out from the front door as Gigi would see him, your room windows weren’t the opening type which left you with no option but for him to spend the night right here, with you.

“Now what?” You asked, hand on your forehead while you paced around the room.

“What? We sleep together, of course.” He had a cheeky smile on his face.

“Are you crazy?” You almost screamed, but you didn’t wanna alert your grandma, which made you repeat it in a hushed tone.

“Why? Too scared to sleep with me? You’re the reason we’re in this situation, princess,” he smirked.

You sighed. He was right about that part but you weren’t willing to sleep with him, so you proceeded to ignore him as you went into the bathroom to change into your comfortable clothes for the night.

Jake simply patted the bed when you came out, silently asking you to sit next to him, and suddenly you realized that you’re locked up in a room with him, which didn’t help your nerves as you sat down with him.

Somehow everything was rebellious against your rules when it concerned Sim Jaeyun.

“Can’t you sleep on the floor?” You almost whined.

He cocked his brow, “is that what I get after helping you escape?”

“That’s not it—”

“So? Is it the boyfriend?”

“I don’t have any—”

“The guy you were talking to in the morning.”

“He’s a friend—”

“Then there’s no problem, right?” he rasped.

You didn’t realize your lip was bitten till his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, tugging on it gently to free it, caressing it while looking into your eyes.

“Right?” He repeated.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding ever so slightly.

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, flustering you as you tried to look away, which wasn’t something Jake allowed, his fingers gripping your chin now, “god, you look so fucking innocent.”

“I’m not!” You argued.

“Yeah? Have you been kissed before, princess?” He asks, amused.

His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, to the point you almost whimpered out loud, but you were glad you didn’t, “no. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t fucked anyone before.” You confessed, eyes on his plump lips.

“Oh? Who’s the loser who fucked you without even kissing your prettiest lips?” He asked, frustrated that someone even dared to touch you, even though his words said otherwise.

You gulped, “we were drunk,” you whispered, remembering your graduation party and how the guy had failed to please you.

“Did he make you feel good?” Jake asked, expression serious.

“What?” You were surprised by his question.

He wasted no time in pulling you to his lap, your gasp only made him smirk wider, his hands resting on your waist, squeezing it lightly.

“Did he satisfy you, princess?” His voice was an octave deeper, giving you goosebumps.

“H—he didn’t,” you stutter, which pissed him further, his jaw tensed.

“So you’re telling me that some asshole was deep inside you and didn’t even bother making you feel good?” He scoffed.

“Jake—”

“Y’know what I would have done instead?” He asked, caressing your cheek, his thumb resting on your lips right after, “I’d kiss your lips till you get obsessed with mine.” his hooded eyes lured you in.

His fingers travelled down to your neck, rubbing circles just above your clavicle, “I’d kiss you till my lips memorize every inch of your body, till your mind goes blank,” he whispers, biting your earlobe.

You breathe in deeply, a whimper leaving your mouth, Jake’s name rolling off your tongue in a whisper right after, making him groan in response.

“I’d ruin you, princess,” he breathes, eyes meeting yours.

“Please.” You struggled to breathe, his pointy nose brushing against yours, lips threatening to kiss.

“Say it,” he urged you, pulling your body impossibly closer on his lap.

There was no denying that Jake made you lose every sense of rationality and morals in you, it almost felt as if you were intoxicated in his presence, your heart raced, thumping faster than ever, urging you to say yes.

“Please ruin me, Jake,” you whispered, giving in and looking at him with innocent eyes.

“That’s a good girl.”

He was swift to push you down on the mattress, getting on top of you with hungry eyes to the point you almost felt as if you were a prey, and you liked it.

His cold chain brushed against your clavicle, making you shiver as he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a fervent kiss, a groan leaving his mouth as he finally had you so close to him.

Your fingers held on to his shoulders desperately, he was difficult to resist, and who were you to resist such pleasure? His plush lips moulding against yours, his hand squeezing your waist as you allowed yourself to get immersed into him.

You could feel the warmth spreading in your abdomen like wildfire, a gasp giving him the perfect opportunity to taste you, sliding his tongue down your mouth to deepen the kiss, the taste of chocolate lingering in his mouth and you let yourself moan into his lips.

You tugged on his hair, realizing how correct he was about you being obsessed with his lips as you found yourself chasing after it when he broke the kiss, making him chuckle at your desperation.

“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, staring at your slightly swollen lips, which glistened with the mixture of your spit.

He wasn’t the one to waste time, his tongue licking your neck, placing kisses all over it, causing you to squirm and pant till he found the spot which had you rolling your eyes with sheer pleasure.

Placing a hand over your mouth to silence your moans, he felt a feeling of possessiveness take over him. You looked so fucked out and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he sees someone else with you.

The mere thought had him biting and sucking on your skin in an attempt to mark the very spot which had you shivering and your toes curling. He slipped his other hand inside your flimsy tee, and in your bra, feeling your hardened nipples which he flicked between his fingers.

Your body felt more awake than ever, each touch of his getting a reaction out of you, “so responsive, have you been waiting for this, princess?”

You could only nod in desperation, trying your best to keep your moans at bay, not wanting to alert your grandma. He kissed your cheek before he got up to get rid of his own clothes, giving you a few seconds to stare at his faint abs, highlighted by the dim lights along with his tattoo, which you so desperately wanted to kiss.

The image of you looking his way with such big eyes, chest heaving up and down only ignited the carnal feeling of him wanting to be deep inside you.

It all felt new to you, being aware and not drunk this time, however it wasn’t just that—Jake made you feel this way, your thighs closing when you felt a fluttering sensation down your abdomen.

“Undress,” he ordered.

“What—”

“Undress for me, darling,” his words were smoother than the melted butter, making you work upon it instantly.

His eyes were fixated on your figure the entire time you took to get your clothing off, feeling shy under his gaze, not to mention the outline of his cock in his boxers intrigued you even further.

“Fuck, you’re all mine,” he said under his breath.

His plush lips were soon on your tits, his other hand fondling and caressing your nipple while he worked his tongue, swirling it ever so perfectly before giving it a soft bite, making you arch your back as you bit on your discarded clothes, tears forming in your eyes with these euphoric sensations.

He’s giving you all you could ask for and you? You’re a mess with your lipstick smudged and ragged breathing. Just when you thought that Jake couldn’t get you anymore wilder, he stuffed his hand down your wet panties, which brushed against your extremely sensitive clit. Even biting your clothes couldn’t stop a moan coming out of your mouth.

“You like it, baby? That’s my good girl. So pretty and wet all for daddy, yeah? Daddy’s gonna taste you now, princess,” his spoke, his accent deep.

“Daddy?” you asked, whimpering right after when his lips touched your bare pussy, pressing a kiss on your clit.

There was something in the way he addressed himself so confidently which made you want to submit yourself to him fully, only pushing yourself deeper into sub space as he worshipped every inch of your body.

“That’s right, baby,” he spoke against your, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his strong hands held your thighs open.

Obscene noises of him licking and sucking resonated the room as you bucked up your hips unconsciously, desperate for friction, making his cock twitch while he licked languid strokes up and down your cunt, his hot breath fanning your folds, wishing to hear you moan despite the circumstances.

“Shh, princess. We don’t want your grandma to know now, do we?” He smirked.

Your hand slithers into Jake’s hair, tugging on it as you convulse in pleasure, letting him continue his ministrations on your leaking pussy, his lips soft unlike his actions, which were rushed and aimed at your pleasure.

Your eyes roll back, arousal reaching its peak at the unadulterated pleasure as you repeated his name when he moved down to shove his tongue into your cunt, lapping at your juices when you reach your orgasm.

Yet he doesn’t stop, inserting his slender finger in your tight hole, pumping it in and out gently at first while you whine and he gets up, wetness coating his lips. He lets you taste yourself by kissing you yet again, his fingers entertaining your cunt.

Your breaths are heavier, louder and you can’t wait to have his cock shoved into you. You weren’t the one to have lewd thoughts in general yet here you were, moaning into Jake’s mouth, clenching around his two fingers which thrusted into you at a newfound speed.

“Yes, daddy! Yes, oh god,” you mumbled to yourself, letting the lust consume you.

His fingers curled inside you before he decided that you were ready for his cock.

“Let’s see how desperate you are, beg for daddy’s cock, princess,” he demanded.

Now that his cock was in view, you stared at it dumbfounded. It was veiny and stood hard and leaking, the tip was red and ready to fuck you dumb, it pushed you over the edge.

“Please, daddy? I’ll be a good girl for y—you please fuck me?” A tear left your eye, tainting your image even further which aroused Jake as a sadistic smile overtook his face.

You continued to beg him, and he gave you no warning as he lined his tip on your entrance, coating it with your juices, almost pushing it all in but instead, he gave you just the tip, which made you beg out of frustration.

“Tell me about your darkest fantasies,” Jake teased, seeing you pout and whine, “do it baby, only then you’ll get this cock into you.”

You were going crazy, “I—I want to be fucked awake,” you confessed, hiding your face.

“Is that so? How cute,” he commented, pulling your body flush.

Within a second, he thrusted into you sharply, your wet juices acting as the perfect lube to suck his cock right in as he bottomed out fully, cussing at the feeling of your walls clenching around him.

You could feel the imprint of his dick on your lower abdomen, and he pressed on it with a proud smirk, only to make you whimper lowly, your voice quivering with deep he was in you, “big—so big.”

You laid beneath Jake in such a way that the sight was captivating for him, your vulnerability paired with his ignited primal hunger.

He firmly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling out slightly before he thrusted into you again as you were clinging onto him.

He had never found anyone like you before, it was as if you were the only one for him, the one who reacts to his touch in such ways, the one who drives him insane to the point he has to rile you up just to get you to talk to him.

His slow thrusts soon turned into relentless, pleasure inducing thrusts, and you found yourself bucking your hips up to meet him, helping him reach deeper spots in you, his tip hitting your g-spot.

Choked moans escaped your lips, reaching the point of complete incoherence as you got drunk in the intensity of Jake’s presence, your senses overwhelmed as he fucked you without any interruptions.

“Daddy—please!”

Sensing that you were close, he thrusted harder, twitching inside your pussy, his lips capturing yours as you both cried out, reaching your climax in harmony, breathing in deeply before he filled you up with his warm cum, which mixed with your own juices.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, causing him to laugh and pull you in a sweet kiss.

You could see the clear switch in his demeanour when he cleaned you up, asking gentle questions about how you felt or if he went overboard.

He was perfect.

Something had changed in the air, and you both were aware of it, but rather than verbalising it, you slept in each other’s arms, Jake staying up a few minutes just to see your peaceful face.

“Good night, princess.”

Jake woke up early despite not getting enough sleep, still not believing that he fucked you—the prettiest girl he swore he’d ever laid eyes on.

And he was sure to make your desires come true.

You wore nothing but his shirt to sleep, which made your pussy accessible to him, his fingers playing with your folds ever so gently as he didn’t wish to wake you up, not this soon at least.

He continued to do so for a remarkably long time, smiling each time he saw you stir in your sleep, his lips leaving kisses on your neck and shoulder blades till you were fully wet for him.

Jake was shocked when you revealed that you were into somnophilia, but who was he to deny his girl some pleasure?

His other hand was busy taking care of his raging boner, seeing you dressed in his shirt, your scent mixed with his only drove him crazy.

His grip on your thighs was firm when he straddled you, pumping his cock a few times before he pushed it in you with a few thrusts, the stretch being enough to wake you up with a whimper, your state disoriented but the second you realized that Jake was making your wish actually come true, you moaned.

His dick throbbed inside you and you were still not over last night’s adventure as curse words filled the air, along with the mist of your unholy activities and fervent longing as he thrusted with a groan, kissing and nibbling on the skin of your neck.

You were sure you had bruises forming on your clavicle by now, which also extended down your breasts and inner thighs, Jake being particular about having you marked through and through.

You could only sigh and plead for more, beg for more, the word daddy coming out of your mouth effortlessly, which was effective to the point it made Jake fuel with desire as he provided you with the most overwhelming, ecstasy filled orgasm, him coming all over your pussy, pulling out this time.

“I like you,” he revealed all of a sudden, his smile the epitome of boyishness which made you chuckle with your newfound happiness.

That’s one good way to wake up in the morning.

“Guess what, Sim. I like you too,” you confessed, growing shy by the last word and he pulled you in a sweet hug, swinging your body along his, your laughter filling up the room.

You gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.

You had forgotten to help him escape without your grandma knowing.

The escape was successful, and so were your holidays which were nearing. Your sadness was apparent on your face, having no desire to go back leaving your grandma and aunt Sim.

More importantly, Jake.

It has become a routine for him to slip into your room ever so professionally to sleep with you—some nights you did sleep, other nights he gave you every reason to be awake.

Which also served as a solid reason for Jake to stop indulging in the so called drug trade, one instance of almost being caught was enough for you both, not that you were involved in the first place.

He opened up to you, actually acting like a goof at times, juxtaposing his usual bad boy demeanour. He provided you with the best of both worlds.

Your feelings for the guy you used to find annoying were increasing at record speed per day, and now that it was finally one day before you’d leave, you couldn’t help but be bothered by Jake’s absence.

He’s always around, which made you wonder where and what he was up to, especially when you wanted nothing more than to spend your time in his arms, lip quivering at the thought that he might not wish to see you anymore.

However, that wasn’t the case when he showed up in the doorway, huffing and hair messy as if he was running.

“Jaeyun,” you whispered, letting him pull you in the comfort of his warm arms.

“I’m coming,” he breathed, making you look at him with wide eyes.

“What?” You blinked, almost stuttering.

“I’m coming to Seoul with you, princess. I got into the same university,” he chuckled as you snatched the envelope from him, jumping with excitement as tears filled your eyes, hugging him even tighter.

You felt like your heart was going to explode with the excitement, which Jake found heartwarming. He had planned this the second he saw you and got to know you. It was a given that he wanted to be with you.

“What about your mom?” You asked softly, realizing that she’d be alone.

“She’s gonna stay with Gigi. Our ladies are strong women, right?” He asked, caressing your lip, which you had noticed was his habit.

“W—when did you even apply—this is so amazing,” you went on rambling, which was something he adored, but kissing your lips to shut you up was his favourite thing, especially when he got to see your shy smile right after.

“So, we’re gonna be together?” You questioned, shyness taking over.

“You’re wrong if you think you’ll ever get rid of me now, princess,” he smirked, teasing you again.

This side of him made you faux scoff, “but what if I want to get rid of you?” You challenged, knowing well you weren’t capable of that.

He took a step closer to you, his broad smile illuminating the room, his hand resting on your waist pulling you closer, “I’d like to see you try and escape me,” he retorted.

“You want me that much, huh?” Your smile was coy.

He brushed your nose tip with his, making you chuckle with joy.

“I’ll always want my princess.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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#fic : roman holiday #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake hard hours #enhypen imagines #kpop smut #jake x reader #enha smut #jake #enhypen scenarios #jake sim smut

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 days

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Hiii how are you? Could i please request a jealousy fic with jason and dick, like how would they react? What would they do about it? I'm sorry its reallyyy cliche, but i love it anyway💕

Hi anon! I’ve been fine, been taking lots of power naps whenever I can, especially after work, but I’ve fine.

Jason’s jealously more or less comes from a place of insecurity.

He fears that one interaction with the right guy/ girl/ whomever would be enough to make you see that there were better options out there than him.

He never doubts your loyalty to him, never. He wasn’t that pathetic. He just didn’t trust everyone else that even looked at you in the same light as he did on the daily, and it was extremely evident when Jason didn’t like the looks of someone; Furrowed brows over narrowed judging eyes, his form practically towering over you protectively as he stares down the person whom he believes might take you from him.

His protectiveness tends to spike up periodically the moment he see the person get a little too close for comfort and he would clench his jaw to prevent himself from saying something he might regret later on; Jason tries to restrain himself for your sake but it was blatantly obvious that he was on the brink of exploding.

So when you both got home Jason didn’t waste any time in letting you know how he felt during the entire interaction after having forced himself to hold his own tongue.

‘Did you find that person attractive?’ He’d ask.

‘No.’ you said. ‘were you jealous?’

‘I thought me staring down the poor bastard was evident enough.’ Jason scoffs and you hugged his waist all the while pressing reassuring kisses at the base of his neck, when his hands reached to hold yours and intertwine your fingers together.

‘I know that you know I love you very much, no one else catches my eye when I have you,’ you reassured as you pressed another kiss to his neck, ‘my beautiful boy, my beautiful jay birdie.’ You added in a whisper as Jason felt the last remnants of jealously fade away into the background with every kiss you gave him.

‘Are you sure you can see yourself being with me? long term I mean.’ He then says as he squeezed your hands in his search of comfort from you and it broke your heart when he didn’t see himself the way you did, but you were more then willing to kiss and cuddle away his troubles if it meant reminding him of his worth.

‘Without question.’ You confidently told him, squeezing his hands. ‘I don’t see myself with anyone else but you because even though you may not think it, you are more then enough and you are not broken, to me you are whole and you are perfect.’ You finished by pressing a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades and resting your head there as you focused on his breathing.

‘Can…can we just forget about all this and just cuddle like any other cliche couples do?’ Jason asked, finding himself feeling a lot better upon hearing you laugh against his back as a smile crossed his face.

‘Sure big guy.’ You replied. ‘We can go cuddle now.’

And with that Jason was quick to pick you up in his arms and carry you off towards the bedroom where you inevitably feel asleep in the other’s arms, happy and content.

Dick wasn’t one to speak up on his emotions much, which was something that he knew he could better work on for the sake of your relationship with him.

He’s seen himself in the mirror. He knows his own appeal very well but physical appearance were secondary to you as it was his personality that won you over in the end. However he knew that beauty was subjective and that one day you might come across someone more physically appealing than him.

He’d act as though nothing was wrong but if you could easily tell something was off by just his stance alone, crossed arms over chest and a look in his eyes, as though he was trying to deduce the person you were trying to have a civil conversation with.

He may stand close to you and put a hand on your waist or throw an arm over your shoulders, pull you into his side and press a kiss to your forehead with a smile plastered across his face, but he wouldn’t say a word in hopes that would be enough to get across to the person that you were very much taken.

Upon arriving home however, Dick acts he wasn’t even remotely jealous to begin with, despite the glaring fact that he very much was.

‘Me? Jealous?’ He asks incredulously but upon seeing your face, he knew that this act of his had long since stopped working the moment you grew the ability to read him.

‘Yes, you were and you weren’t even trying to make it discreet at all.’ You told him as you settled aside your things on the kitchen counter and sighed. ‘I just wish you would talk to me about these things so that we could get this together like couples should.’

Dick frowned as he moved next to you and gently took your hand in his own, caressing it. ‘I know and I’m sorry that I haven’t been more open and honest with you it’s just-‘

‘You find it difficult to do so I know.’ You cut him off, looking him in the eyes. ‘I don’t blame you for that and I never would, you know that but I just wished that you trust me more to speak to me about these things.’ You tell him as you squeezed his hand. ‘I only want to help you.’

Dick kisses your forehead. ‘I know you do and I appreciate it very much.’ He whispered against your skin. ‘I just don’t know what you see in me sometimes, nor do I understand how you could have possibly put up with me as long as you have given how closed off I can be sometimes.’ He adds as he pulls away, his heart weighing heavily in his chest as he awaits your response.

‘I stay with you because I love you stupid.’ You said softly as you bumped his shoulder with your own. ‘And maybe because Hayley is too cute a pup to ever leave.’

‘I had a feeling Hayley was a major factor in you staying.’ Dick laughed. ‘Can’t say I blame you though, she is indeed very cute.’ He adds as he looks over at the staffy, who was very much fast asleep in her little bed in the living room before looking back to you with gentle eyes. ‘But I’m glad that you did stay. I love you too, dummy.’ He utters softly as he nudged you with his shoulder, vowing to himself to do better by you from this day forth.

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neteyamsilly · 1 year

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 4

summary ;; A father protects, that's what gives him meaning. Jake Sully has failed. PART 3 | PART 5 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; PLEASE READ AUTHOR NOTES. I explicitly said in the previous chapter I would NO LONGER BE TAKING TAG REQUESTS. You're just going to have to check my profile every now and then. I also will not be re-tagging the peeps I did in the last chapter’s replies, it’s just a lot 😭 I'm sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your understanding! Now I present you, the long awaited angst and groveling of Jake. Enjoy! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any. Thank you so much for the lovely comments and support, I hope the angst hits the way you wanted it / was expecting HHHHH

It’ll shine better, Jake mused to himself, rotating the lumpy amber around in his fingers to better reflect the sunlight streaming in thin rays from the hands of the dense flora above, once I dip this in that polish oil. It’s not entirely unsalvageable.

At least he hadn’t scraped too much in attempts to give it a rounder shape, the bug at its core you were gushing about to the point of waking him up at zero dark thirty was still intact. He had been summoned from his dreams to look at a cool rock.

Jake couldn’t not gift it to you as something to be permanently worn after that.

The problem? He was ass at this. Always had been. No drop of craftsmanship in his bloodstream at all when the Na’vi were particularly fond of their ornaments and accessories, making it themselves, in fact.

Songcords were put together from beads, bones and stones, virtuosity was a must intrinsically woven into everyday life, methodized and irreplaceable since it wasn’t as if mass production could ever be a thing in Pandora. Everything was handmade.

Jake’s worst enemy beadwork was in their clothing, for example, even in braids — his maladroit at it may or may not be why he wore his hair in plain dreads now.

He wasn’t an artist or a creator, his hands were more comfortable being fit around a gun or a knife than slipping effortlessly in the rhythm of weaving or the act of making. All his end results were dreadful enough to be bullied relentlessly by his kids — except for you, that is. You absolutely loved them for reasons your mother or none of your siblings could understand.

Jake’s blundering conscience would melt at the sight of your eyes shining and the biggest smile almost splitting your head in half as if he had just handed you the world every single time he gifted you the newest of his clunky handiwork. He didn’t know why that made you the happiest. You’d been that way ever since you saw him carving and personally adding a bead to his songcord about how he got his firstborn daughter to utter her first word: dada.

It was important to him, so, down it had gone into Jake’s life story; putting official significance to the moment he never wanted to forget in the same thread that carried the story of him becoming Toruk Makto, just beside Neteyam’s first word, which was also dadada. (Neytiri had Lo’ak’s mam, and Kiri’s perfectly articulated mommy.)

Ever since that day, you had made grabby hands at the bead all the time when he picked you up, teethed at it like a puppy trying to grab a toy, tried to rip it off to make it yours — anything, until Neytiri made you one, but no, you wanted it from dada.

So dada started making you little trinkets.

He didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing you never grew out of receiving gifts from your dad he himself cringed at. Jake wasn’t one to complain, not when someone in this life would feel such enough joy to purify thousands of blighted souls upon receiving his ugly personal work. It made him happy, stroked his ego to high heavens that his sweetheart was doting on dada to see the imperfect as the most fascinating.

That’s why he had taken on the daunting task of making a bead for you out of the amber you’d fixated on, rasp in one hand, sitting on a thick log that cut into the little stream he and his family were spending leisurely time that day, one leg pulled to himself and one feet in the water up to his ankle. Even though he had half an ear on his four children playing around in the shallow water of the creek, all the screams and squeals of joy felt weak compared to the contained huff of amusement that escaped from his mate who had come up to Jake while he was way too engrossed in his task.

His eyes shifted to Neytiri, watching her hop on to the log in one agile move. “Don’t laugh.”

“I am not laughing,” Neytiri said, crouching to sit, her mouth twitched upwards as she looked at the amber in his hand.

“I have eyes, Neytiri, I literally see you laughing.” His face used to burn at her openly teasing about beadmaking, but his oldest daughter’s attentions had restored his bruised confidence over the years. The slander wasn’t taken lightly these days as Jake had proudly relabeled the odd shapes of his work as a creative choice. “Right to my face.”

“You’re mistaken.”

Jake made his jaw drop, overacting his bafflement. “Wow, gaslighting? Really?”

Neytiri hit his arm lightly. In her terms, it was light, at least. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s something you shouldn’t do to your mate.” He turned his back to her, giving a look over his shoulder. “You’re abusing me. I’m being abused.”

“Baby.”

“No amount of pet names are gonna fix my broken heart.”

“No. You are a baby. I’m insulting you.” Neytiri hadn’t even laughed, but the uplifted timbre of that sentence sure did make Jake snicker in disbelief. “If you can’t take it, maybe you should leave beading to me.”

“I would say they are fashionably off,” he defended. You carried them with delight, so why shouldn’t Jake take more pride in his work? “And you said practice makes perfect years ago, I remember the exact words—”

“Years ago. You still haven’t gotten any better at it.” Neytiri was his biggest supporter and criticizer at the same time. “And you became a part of the clan back in the day in three months Jake. Never a more unbelievable thing to me than this.”

“I’m trying alright?” He turned back to the bead, or, vaguely bead-shaped amber, if technical terms were involved. It still had a whole adventure to embark on until it could receive the noble title of a bead. “She likes what I make, at least.”

“It’s because she’s your daughter and anything you do is out of this world. Beauty in the most unlikely places. A child’s love is pure that way.” The unexpected hypnotism of poetry in that sentence alone pulled Jake’s gaze to Neytiri’s, and for a moment, he could physically feel his heart within his ribcage being squeezed, tethering on painful, but with a joyful tinge. “She doesn’t have standards yet.”

Well, that hurt. “Damn.”

“Damm!” A pair of small and branch-thin arms wrapped around his neck from behind, and something, or rather, someone, latched onto his back. “Rahh!”

Jake should have been suspicious of how silent it had gotten halfway into his talk with Neytiri. Turns out, you had swam underneath the log to get out of his line of sight, climbing with the stealth of a bug to come up undetected.

Well, mark Jake down as impressed, you weren’t able to do that without being spotted until today, this was another wonderful milestone for you — you had learned impressively, taking advantage of his distraction, avoiding making noise and using water to your advantage. Neytiri must have given you some pointers.

And now he was wondering if his mate was in on this all along, purposefully disturbing his peace so their kids could see an opening to pounce on him.

“Oof!” Your hold on him was something he could break out of any minute with how adorably strong you were exerting yourself to make it, but he wanted to play along more than anything. Jake was acting panicked, swinging his body left and right from the waist, but really, it was just a light warm-up exercise with the easiest deadlift possible. “I’m being ambushed!”

“I got you now, Toruk Makto!” You wrapped your legs around his torso, and he felt like this was just a piggyback ride with extra steps. “Watch this, mom!”

Oh, it’s on.

Discreetly handing Neytiri the amber, Jake stood up, bringing you up with him and fighting a smile at your clipped squeak as the height became too much too quick, causing you to cling onto him stronger. He reached behind, and within seconds, he had you in his hands, holding you from the armpits and dangling you above the stream, your kicking legs beating the air, and he cackled like a villain threatening to fling the hero from atop of a skyscraper.

“You got me? Please.” He loosened his grip the slightest amount to give you the illusion he would let go, and you stopped struggling to scream, catching his forearms. “A measly thing like you? Conquering me? I’ll show you why I’m the king of the skies! Here I come!”

Making sure you wouldn’t get hurt, Jake threw you into the water as gently as possible, but made the angle entertaining enough so you would go flying. He wasn’t sure who’d screeched the highest, your three siblings who had you spearheading this little operation with full trust in your capabilities, or you reacting like you were falling down from an ikran midair. Either way, he was enjoying bullying his kid a bit too much.

Emerging from the stream and shaking the water off too akin to a wet dog, your first action was to shield your siblings, open arms and whole body and all. “Nete, run! Protect Lovak and Kiri, I’ll save you!”

Jake’s evil smile looming on his kids wavered at that.

You had problems with some letters even at the big age of eight, two vowels next to each other in one word was one of them, along with the confusion of “f” and “b”, and sometimes “p” — it made for hilarious misunderstandings Jake had to fight to be a parent about instead of busting a lung from laughing.

One of the many unforgettable events was deemed “The Fish Incident” between Jake, Max and Norm. He had been recording Neteyam’s first catch on his own to add it to the cute memory pile he and his mate would watch in the future after all their children eventually moved out to pursue their paths. You happened to be present that time, watching intently as your big brother shot a particularly giant yellow fish, eagerly jumping down to the pond to get it and showing it to the camera with a shy, yet proud grin on his face.

“Good job, boy!” Jake had cheered. “Say I got that fish!”

Out of the camera’s frame and making little jumps on your toes, you’d blithely yelled. “Yeah, you got that bish!”

The rest of the footage was shaky and out of focus, the microphone hadn’t picked up any sound but Jake’s uncontrollable laughter, kicked off by an exploding snort of shock.

You and Neteyam had no idea why, but after he’d stopped recording with tears streaming down his face, wheezing because he couldn’t stop laughing, you’d joined to laugh and play with him regardless, mirroring his excitement.

Later though, Jake had to actively make it so you wouldn’t have to say the words kitchen and pitch (and obviously, fish) out loud, at least, in front of Neytiri. He didn’t want to abstain from having a little fun himself, so under no circumstance was she allowed to find out and correct you. And he had it going strong for a while until it slipped when he was talking about a scientist friend over at Hell’s Gate called Richard and you repeated it as “Bitchard”. The word had somehow weaseled into your English lexicon as well, and Neytiri wasn’t illiterate enough to be oblivious to what you’d merrily blurted.

Good old days. Jake sometimes missed hearing you curse innocently. Neytiri had to take that source of joy away from him. Discouragement and warnings would be given to his kids if they knowingly cussed, of course, Kiri calling Lo’ak penis face was something he’d immediately shot down, but this was harmless, he thought. He could have let you be blissfully unaware until the day you learned the meaning of the words, or gain consciousness of the articulation errors as you grew up and naturally fix it yourself. It was only a natural part of a child’s growth.

But he had other entertainment. The obligatory consonant you had to sometimes add to two different neighboring vowels if it was too difficult for you to pronounce, for example. Your little brother was a victim to this. Thankfully, Lo’ak wasn’t bothered to be called Lovak by his older sister, somehow thinking of it as a nickname, but Jake could bet his ass the boy would use this as infinite ammo against you once both of you were older. He would of course forget how you always protected him in play fighting like right now, of course, maybe you would remember enough to accuse him of ungratefulness, and perhaps Lo’ak would declare he didn’t recall anything such as that.

How bittersweet of a thing it was to drift into imaginations of how his kids would be like when they grew up. Like the stinging ache Jake always got when he was confronted with the sadness of losing his children forever one day — the need to put every minute with them in a bottle, and the feeling of time slipping through his fingers, the same old melancholy each time: when it first dawned on Jake that you’d successfully sneaked up on him just now, when Neteyam had captured his first fish all on his own without assistance, when Lo’ak showed him the knife he had successfully carved by himself to get his approval, and when Kiri had tended to a scratch wound of his better than her grandmother did with precocious wisdom on her face.

Jake was making every moment count. Just like this one.

“Nobody is safe from me, I’ll huff and I’ll puff and blow your house in!” He jumped down from the log with the grace and intimidation of a leopard who had been disturbed while eating up the tree he’d dragged his meal on, splashing water everywhere. “What will you do, o’ mighty hunter?”

You loved being called mighty hunter by him, he saw the sparkle in your eyes.

“Noooo!” Kiri cried, pulling on both Lo’ak and Neteyam’s arms huddled behind you. “He’ll get us!”

Your thought process, completely spooked by Jake, was painfully visible. But surprisingly, you yelled, “Scatter!” with the experience of a rave addict who would take a forty and smash it on the ground as the police closed in on the party grounds. And his kids ran in different directions, like a group of cockroaches when someone approached them, they all ran in different directions.

Sloshing water all around to make it more terrifying, he got Kiri first, hauled her right over his shoulder when she made for Neytiri, thinking her mother could protect her, but no. Jake was inevitable. Lo’ak gave him a weak challenge trying to step around him, getting Jake to confuse his steps as if they were playing basketball, but this was his dad he was facing and not Spider, these tricks didn’t work on veterans, so now he was flush to Jake’s side, tail facing forward, carried like some strapless bag, it didn’t even put any strain on the man’s bicep. Neteyam was the last, hiding beneath the water level and holding his breath, but the little nose peeking out for air gave him away, and Jake had him up the other shoulder in seconds, the boy didn’t have enough time to run away even though he’d spied from underwater that Jake was coming for him.

Three out of four. That left only his eldest daughter.

You were nowhere to be seen. The delighted and struggling giggle-cries of the three kids in his arms and shoulders didn’t help at all to Jake taking his surroundings in with a keen ear, all senses attuned to spotting the stray.

A rustle from above.

“Attack him!”

He didn’t have enough time to see just which branch of the trees cocooning the creek you had climbed on before all three in his arms turned on him, flailing around together in unison to get Jake to fall down and kneel, and it surprisingly worked, he couldn’t even recover between the blink of a time between them getting off the way and you jumping down on him. The height at which you did that knocked all air off his ribcage for a second as he tried to retain balance, and you took that chance to sit on his shoulders, your legs dangling from each one, grabbing onto two dreads on his head as if they were the tails of Toruk he once had held onto like leashes.

Jake had to give this one to you, damn. When had you become a student of the art of strategizing?

But, defeat was defeat. He had to play his part. “This can’t be!” He opened his arms, making it seem cartoonishly like he had been incapacitated. “I’ve been… bested?”

“That’s right!” The cockiness was dripping from you as you pulled on his dreads. “I’m Toruk Makto Makto now. The first of my name!”

Your siblings started cheering battle cries, repeating the word.

Don’t laugh, he ordered himself. Toruk Makto Makto, what a title, oh Jesus Christ.

“Alright, alright, you got me, mighty hunter.”

“So I win?”

“Yes, you win.”

He was going to have two less dreads on his head if you kept pulling on them like this. “Hell yeah!”

After hearing the declaration, his other children also joined in on the ‘Hell yeah!’ train. Jake supposed he could let this slide for now, you guys were too happy, he wouldn’t sully it.

“You’re gonna rip my hair off, get down now.” You understood play time was over from his tone, and obeyed, hopping down his shoulders when he lowered you into the water, immediately attempting to rush to your siblings’ side to be celebrated, but Jake had something else in mind. “C’mere for a sec.”

He pulled you to the edge of the stream where water met grassy land, dipping his hand into the wet soil under your confused gaze and bringing his fingers up to trace a pattern on your face.

The reaction was instantaneous. You pulled back. “Ew, mud!”

“Hold on,” he gently warned, or rather, encouraged.

You let him continue whatever he was doing then, albeit not losing the laughable concern along the way. “What’s this?”

“Well, you’ve tamed Toruk Makto before an ikran. My mighty hunter should be painted accordingly, no?”

He pointed down and you followed it with your eyes. Seeing your reflection and the ‘V’ shape with a dot on your face in the water, you stopped yourself from touching it with the impulse control that kicked in at the last second, looking up at Jake, jumping up and down, unable to contain the energy, knowing exactly what he did just now. He’d recognized you as a prospective hunter candidate. “Thank you, dad!”

Jake could swear his insides liquidized at that. “Always, sweetheart.”

“Will you paint me like this when I finally get an ikran, too?”

“Of course I will.” He actually wanted to cup your cheeks and plant a little kiss at the adorable flat of your nose but the mud would be ruined, so he pet your braids instead. “As will your mother. It’s what family does.”

At the time, Jake didn’t have the slightest inkling that the paint would end up being your own blood.

Neytiri’s bloody hands — your blood, his child, his child, his baby Jake’s entire day would stop at seeing one tear on her face — had been stroking your face, trying to hold on to you anywhere she could to soothe your flaming pain as you were squirming like a dying animal fighting for the next breath. His heart beating right behind his eyes in a massive pulsating headache, Jake was too desperate fighting his swelling panic with each noise that ripped from you to notice they had left the vague pattern of Iknimaya paint pattern in their wake.

She did.

And her following anguished, gasping shudder as her shaking hands hovered above your contorted face, tracing the air along the lines the blood had left on your face ended up hitting him right in the gut. He couldn’t dwell on it. He couldn’t let this random twisted sign sweep him into the roaring waterfall of torment, your life was on the line.

Jake didn’t have any coherent memory of running back to the mouth of the cave from the family tent. One moment, he was back with his brain fried from thinking about Quaritch in the aftermath of an hour that had just taken twenty years from his lifespan, avoiding the inquisitive silence of his kids who hadn’t gone back to bed yet; and the other, Neytiri was screaming in the distance with terror worse than the anguish he’d heard her go through upon losing her father and her home. Jake had all but flown there, mind blank in swirling, spasming panic.

Neytiri had told him he had a strong heart the first time they’d met. No fear. Even though Jake was aware he was being disliked strongly, this quality of his she had remarked on, honest to her soul.

But she was wrong.

That fearless fortress heart of his had begun to crumble the moment he learned of Neteyam’s existence. And with each and every new addition to their family, Jake had been rehabilitated on what fear truly was, like a baby learning a language.

Losing. It was all about losing.

He would wake up from terrorizing, choking nightmares with the sensation of his family being violently taken away from him when his children were in his arms, sleeping peacefully all along. He couldn’t stop it. It had spiraled out of control after the sky people came back, turning him into a paranoid, angry man who was ruled by fear. He worried for the safety of his family every day, obsessed over it — beneath the impenetrable iron mask of a leader his whole clan was leaning on, Jake was nothing more than a weak, emotionally crippled father who would lose it the more his children grew up to take reckless actions he made worse by the inability to govern his fear-curbed anger. He called it tough love.

That tough love had resulted in this. Loss. Loss. Loss he had tried his damnedest to prevent. It was blood slipping through his fingers from a wound he had no way of stitching back together.

The more he pushed to block the bullet entrance point, the more you fought Jake, making feral yowls that weakened into animalistic whimpers and throaty whines that all but ripped his heart off muscle by muscle, your hits and scratches didn’t faze him, but the noises. Eywa, the noises. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know you’re in pain, I know, I know, I’ll make it go away, please hold on, c’mon.” The droplets of sweat that had formed in the matter of seconds rolled down his face. You had begun to hyperventilate from the accelerating pain because of his efforts. “C’mon sweetheart. Breathe for me, breathe for dad, okay? You gotta breathe. Breathe!”

You were unhearing, lost in the overwhelming, blinding, deafening agony he couldn’t anchor or shield you from. The grunt of desperation that escaped his sore throat rattled his carbon fiber infused bones.

Jake didn’t have time to think. His reason had flown out the mountains to be able to force one single word to form in his mindscape. He just knew he had to stop the bleeding, propelled by concentrated instinct. You were struggling too much for him to have a solid hold on you. Everything, too slippery. Too much blood. Too fucking much. The sickening smell of iron bit at his senses.

(Was it the liver? The spleen? Pancreas? One of the major arteries? But Na’vi biology wasn’t the same as humans. Fuck.)

Then, you were being restrained by a third party, Neytiri was too devastated to make that reasonable decision, and in his peripheral vision, he saw it was Neteyam who had sat down on your legs, restricting your movements with incredible strength. Jake couldn’t even bark at him to go away with how much Neteyam looked in control, a rock he and Neytiri both could draw strength from. Behind him, Lo’ak was a stone statue just standing there, frozen, his eyes not leaving your bloody abdomen.

When you let out a yelp his heart could no longer stand, he yelled, “Bring a stretcher!” to nobody in particular, out of his goddamn mind. Lo’ak jumped at it, coming back to his senses, hesitating what to do for a second before he was off to god knows where. He had to take you to Norm’s, and then a doctor—

A tiny, trembling voice he couldn’t recognize as Neteyam’s reached his ears. “Dad…”

The boy was looking at you, blown eyes shining with unshed tears, upper set of teeth sinking in his shaky bottom lip.

You had gone slack in his arms.

He hadn’t even seen the moment, didn’t stop putting pressure on the wound as the dread assaulted his body. And a biting shiver went down his spine before Jake also looked down on his eldest daughter. Your eyes weren’t closed all the way, halted gaze focused on something to the side, one tear rolling down your temple.

“Don’t do this to me.” Jake couldn’t breathe as he shook his head, he was about to lose it, about to tumble down the edge he could never climb his way up from. In denial, he didn’t lift his hands, losing all strength in his upper body and gradually collapsing forward as his forehead found yours. “Don’t do this to me, sweetheart, not like this. Please, not like this.”

The last thing you were looking at was the ikran you’d gotten.

Jake didn’t feel that very ikran making its way to their side, flapping its wings, didn’t feel anything to react when a snoot reached down and ever-so-gently nudged you, like you were asleep and it was given the duty to wake you up in the morning that day.

Your ikran nudged you once. Twice. Thrice. Each push was harsher than the other.

You didn’t wake up. Your eyes didn’t get their light back.

A paralyzing numbness took over Jake’s body, all his neuron ends stunted. The moon stopped spinning, time stopped moving, he ceased existing, all at the same time.

A piercing ringing stabbed his ears, took away his hearing. He didn’t hear Neytiri scream louder than the ikran, you were ripped from his arms, and he couldn’t move to do anything about it, just staring into the distance, at nothing, bloodied palms facing upwards in his lap.

It was Neteyam who tried to stop his wailing mother from going mad with grief, trying to get her to set down your body from her crushing embrace even though he couldn’t take his misty eyes off your body. It was Lo’ak, frantic in his run even though his panic-frozen face gave away nothing, who had rushed back with Mo’at and Kiri. It was Tuk who had thrown herself into his arms for a hug Jake wasn’t in his body to reciprocate, his seven year old child, in tears, comforting him when Jake, as the adult and the father, should have had his shit together and be the provider of comfort.

Instead, all he could feel was the blood on his hands, one small part in his mind making him focus on that one amber with a bug inside he’d carved for you, years ago, now in your hair.

The tears didn’t come. His world was shattering all around him, but not one tear made it to the surface.

Someone was talking to him, but Jake wasn’t there, experiencing the moment behind a thick veil of silencing glass.

“Open her mouth, Jakesuli.”

He looked at the source of the muffled sound breaching the ringing in his ears, painfully empty and unfeeling. It was Mo’at. In her hand, a woodsprite gently floated in the air and landed before it repeated the motion again. It was as if his brains had been emptied from his skull. He didn’t understand. He didn’t see. Tuk was clinging to him, Neytiri doubled down in waves of cries in Neteyam’s arms. Jake wasn’t there.

“Open her mouth so I can keep her spirit here longer,” Mo’at said. “Do it now. We do not have much time.”

And Jake could breathe again, his soul slinged back into his body, feeling returning to the tips of his fingers, kicking into action.

He cradled your body from the cold ground you were lying on, bringing his shaky hand to your tightly shut jaw. Your body couldn’t have been experiencing rigor mortis, so you must have been clenching your teeth to the point of your jaw locking to fight the pain, and he was nearly blinded from the sheer strength with which he had to hold back from hugging you. But he eventually opened your jaw with a sickening pop that made him visibly grimace, and Mo’at guided the woodsprite to slip inside the cavity of your mouth.

The bioluminescent dots on your body began to flicker the moment your mouth was closed again. Jake gave a shuddering breath at the sign of life, hands unsure if he should continue to cover the wound again.

“Eywa has allowed her to remain. For a while.”

“Oh Great Mother, thank you!” Neytiri took one of your hands, pressing it against her cheek and kissing it over and over again. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Bring her to my tent,” the Tsahik simply stated, and Jake didn’t even stop to consider how he should be taking you to the science guys, how they were probably going to say you needed a blood transfusion and surgery right after they got the necessary tests such as MRI and blood analysis out of the way. Kiri, sniffling weakly, took the crying Tuk away so Jake could carry you. He couldn’t comfort his girls the way he wanted to, couldn’t attend to Neytiri as their sons consoled her and got consoled in return in a tight hug together; he was on the move, heart about to beat out of his chest.

He took you in his arms and clutched your unconscious and ashen blue body tightly to his chest, your head lolling in the crook of his arm, arriving to Mo’at’s tent faster than she did — and oh, how small you were compared to him, how fragile and vulnerable. The attitude made you appear bigger than you actually were, and Jake was reminded how you were still a child from how light his daughter was, like a fleeting bird. He’d forgotten. It had been forever since he last held you like this that he couldn’t bear to lay you down on the mat. If only he could hide you away within his ribcage, away from the pain and the suffering, forever.

“Everything in this world is borrowed,” she told him, an incense was burned, salves were prepared, tools he had no idea on what they were used were brought out. Plants, herbs. Jake stood there, helpless. “Even this child, Eywa has lent to you. She is borrowed from the bosom of our Great Mother, entrusted to you. Entrusted.” Your freckles were still flickering, and Tsahik’s tone, clipped. “I will converse with her. Ask if she plans to call her daughter back home today.”

Ice washed over Jake. “No, you gotta heal her, Mo’at, I can't lose m—”

“Everything in this world is borrowed. Each breath. Each heartbeat. All children. All gifts from Eywa.” Her eyes bore into him. “I can only ask.”

Neytiri pounced on him as soon as he stumbled out of the tent, beaten and spent despite not having one scratch on his body, upon Kiri’s entrance to assist her grandmother in tending to you.

“Your fault!” He was violently pushed back, only able to take in the woman’s bloodied, wrathful face, tear tracks freshened with saltwater she couldn’t stop shedding. “This is your fault! I told you! I told you to fix this!”

Jake was aware other clan members were watching even if they weren’t out of their homes, he was Olo’eyktan, their leader, his pride would have taken this to their own tent had this been any other debate, but now, he couldn’t give a flying fuck. Bruising his back was the weight of a failed father instead of the ornamental piece of the clan leader, it was unbearable enough. She was right. There was nothing else to be said. His mate was right.

“Mother, please,” Neteyam was right beside them in a flash, holding Neytiri back and shielding his father from her. His sunken eyes found Lo’ak and Tuk crouching at the edge of the tent, huddled together, the youngest having the crying hiccups as her older brother had an arm around her, himself looking traumatized enough.

“Don’t, boy.” Jake put a hand on his stone-hard shoulder, moving him aside. Neteyam took one hard look at Neytiri half-circling his father in long strides, and decided it was best if he took care of his siblings instead even if he wasn’t told outright. He ushered Tuk and Lo’ak up and away, to the other side of the tent where they wouldn’t disturb their parents by staying in the field of vision.

Jake should have been the one to take control, but Neteyam had stepped up for it — he was a kid, too, eldest child or not. What the fuck am I doing?

In his tumultuous sorrow, every piece of the fortress Jake had put together was coming down, every decision re-evaluated, emotion overtaking what he once thought as logic. His fault. His fault. He had ruined his children, all of them. He had thought embracing the iron will of a war chief would allow him to be a strong father figure, but it had only alienated his family.

You had died in his arms.

Jake contained every storm in a box inside his body, Neytiri lived those storms, she was strong that way. He would take it. Her eyes were only seeing red at the moment, the grief and wrath of a wronged mother. “Yeah, it’s my fault,” he told her, something between a whisper and a sigh. His kids deserved to hear it. “I know.”

“She is dying because of you!” Jake couldn’t escape the truth by closing his eyes, but he did anyway, like an automatic body reflex against detecting something would be hitting him. He swallowed, his mouth was drier than a desert, no relief was found in the action. “My daughter! My child! Your child!” She pushed him again, hissing. Jake didn’t do anything to stop it. “All because you told her to go today—everything, everything… All because you didn’t reach out to her. She hid that.” A shiver shook her voice. “That… because of you. You! She thought you would be angry!”

Violent horror seized his heart, ears pinning back on his head, knuckles clenching so light blue they were almost white. “I would… I would never—how could I ever—?”

But it was in character, wasn’t it? Jake always getting angry over worry for his children. Going crazy because they could have gotten hurt. Fear grows into anger, worm eating away the bark of a tree into poisonous snake. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, chest rising and falling in big breaths, there was no air.

“She said you hated her. Over and over again, she said you hated her. Not to call you because you would hate her for it, Jake!”

Bitter guilt and glacial shock rose from his stomach, choking him, his eyes looking at anywhere but Neytiri’s blazing golden eyes, to his children who sat together seemingly away from them but blatantly listening, to the tent flames were barely illuminating the shadows inside. His legs were weak. All that he had been breaching behind a wall to prioritize your safety flooded rancid to his mind.

Jake got angry at you all the time that you’d expected it at your most vulnerable. That he would blame you, reprimand you for his enemy’s actions.

His memories were attacked by all sides. That you had gone off on your own for the Iknimaya everybody should have been there for, he should have painted your face personally for. That you have been hiding the bleeding out from the moment Jake had found you pinned down by the dead body of an avatar, from the moment you’d answered positively to the question of if you were hurt or not, with that rifle he’d thought you didn’t let go because of how the events had shaken you. He opened his mouth, a gaping fish, but no words came out, mute and voiceless.

Hate you? Hate you? Hate his own child he would burn the whole world for?

His child. Suffering in silence when her nature was anything but silent. Afraid of her father when she was the most fearless of his kids when facing him.

You thought you weren’t loved.

“What have you done to our children? What has this family become? What are we if our children are too afraid to come to us in their darkest hours?” Neytiri was snarling, both fury and grief battling inside her, teeth gnashing so hard they could sharpen a knife. “What child does not seek her parents when she is hurt?”

Unseeing, Jake couldn’t stand anymore, staggering towards a particularly large rock and sitting on it, he raised his hands to rub his face but stopped when he saw the blood.

All yours. All his daughter’s who he had failed. Who had died in his arms thinking she was hated because Jake was a shit excuse of a father you couldn’t trust to say you were hurt that you would take the risk of dying so he wouldn’t find out.

His daughter’s blood, on his hands.

He put his elbows to his legs, crossing his wrists to lean his forehead on, yet unable to hide his shaking hands even if he managed to hide his face. Jake couldn’t comprehend any of this, crushed beneath the skyful of burning hot shame and the guilt dwarfing him — tears he couldn’t seem to shed found life in his eyes at him trying to blink away the memory of you clinging to your ikran at the flight home. You had been suffering the whole time and all he could think about was Quaritch when he should have been thinking of you.

“What child would rather hide her injury than let her father know?” It shocked his spine like lightning, and Jake visibly flinched, fists clenching and unclenching. “Explain this to me!”

Shame. Shame. Shame. Jake was about to throw up, rocking back and forth.

He had nothing to say. Nothing could ever excuse this. He couldn’t wash away all your moments from this night, all a cursed film strip haunting his every breath accompanied by thorns that ripped apart his insides.

“If she lives,” Neytiri said, pointing a curled hand at him, slowly, scarily calm, but shaking with mastered rage. If she lives destroyed Jake. “We would be lucky if my mother doesn’t decide to perform Stxel’eveng as Tsahik!”

Jake’s head shot up at the word, his arms dropping altogether and meeting his mate’s tortured stare. As Olo’eyktan, he had to be taught the traditions and ceremonies to the point of talking in his sleep from overlearning — this one was a long lost one the clan hadn’t performed for a long time, as the Omatikayan were faithful and loyal to Eywa and her teachings.

Stxel’eveng was the shortened word for ‘Gifting of a Child’ — an adoption ceremony within Na’vi that didn’t even have the word ‘adopt’ in their vocabulary, simply because it was almost non-existent, most Na’vi didn’t even know the existence of such a tradition. If the parents were unable to care and provide for their child, mistreated on purpose or neglected them to the point of no return, they were to be publicly dishonored by the gifting of said child to another willing family. A knot would be formed between the three, one thread bound around the waist of the mother signifying the womb, one thread fastened to the queue of the father, and the final thread to the wrists of the child as if they were captive. The knot, then, would be severed by Tsahik to symbolize the dissolvement of the familial relations in Eywa’s eyes.

The biggest shame a Na’vi could bring upon their name.

“No,” Jake muttered, his mind going blank yet again. Fuck the shame. Damn his name. He couldn’t lose you. It’s a stone in his throat he can’t swallow, whales on his tongue he can’t speak to save himself.

“Pray to Eywa it doesn’t happen. Because if I was Tsahik, I would do it.” Neytiri turned away from him, pushing the heel of her hands on her damp eyes. “I cannot bear this shame, Jake. I can barely breathe.”

He quivered like a baby leaf caught in a storm, a couple more tears rolling down his cheeks. “Neytiri…”

“I lost my daughter today. She slipped from my fingers. I watched her die.” He lowered his head at her grief, vision swimming. “How am I a mother when I can't feel her pain? How am I worthy of being her mother when I saw my child’s pain and just sat there helpless? Why would the Great Mother ever want to send her back?” She just kept going, not having any mercy on Jake’s soul. “Where was I when she won against her ikran? Where was I when she had her first flight? Where was I to protect her from those demons?”

A father protects, that’s what gives him meaning.

Who was Jake Sully?

“Lo’ak, come back here!”

Both of them turned just in time to see their youngest son running away from the back of the tent they’d been hiding, Neteyam following a couple steps before he stopped to look back, probably at his sister.

“I’ll get him,” Jake said, soulless and absentminded. Neytiri didn’t respond, stalking back to Mo’at’s tent, just kneeling in front of the entrance, wrapping her hands and tail around her knees. Tuk turned the corner, scampering towards her and finding refuge in Neytiri immediately wrapping around her protectively.

Jake wasn’t allowed to comfort his mate.

But he could get to his children who needed it. Trust, Neytiri had said. Honesty.

Walking up to Neteyam, he put a warm hand behind his rigid back, and felt the taut muscles relax underneath his touch, another wave of shame hitting at the inability to recall just when he had last comforted his boy.

“Get Tuk. Go home. Rest.”

Neteyam turned to him, scandalized. “We will stay.”

“Neteyam—”

“Dad—sir, please. I can’t leave my sister.”

That sir was a splash of acid on his already weeping heart.

It dawned on Jake that Neteyam was the one witnessing your moment of death. Death. A surge of nausea shot up from his esophagus, and he didn’t stop himself from hooking an arm around the boy, careful of using his hands not to get blood on the eldest, pulling him into a much awaited embrace. He hadn’t allowed him to be a kid.

“It’s okay, Neteyam,” he croaked. “She’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Neteyam’s arms didn’t wrap around him, unfamiliar to the gesture — crumbling Jake’s already broken heart into dust, but he did shiver, fighting the tremble. He simply said, “I pray so.”

He was still trying to hold it together — for everybody’s sake.

Jake felt the boy’s tears on his skin, and didn’t let him go when he tried to step back to wipe them, letting Neteyam cry silently as much as he wanted. He owed the boy that much, as his father. It was the least he could do.

Jake would stitch this family back together. He had to.

Washing the blood off his hands had taken a while. Jake wasn’t let off easy, cursed by the remaining line of bloodied dirt in his nails.

He found Lo’ak at where it all began. The mouth of the cave where your ikran was disturbing the other ones with restless chittering, reminding Jake of a wolf howling all night at the full moon.

His youngest son was transfixed by the blood staining the ground. Just standing there, looking at it. Jake couldn’t protect him from the sight. Not anymore. He himself could barely stomach it.

“Is sister going to be taken away?” was the first thing he asked Jake, not looking at him still.

Jake didn’t know if he meant death, or Stxel’eveng.

“I pray not,” he told Lo’ak, honest for once.

And like him, the boy wasn’t sentimental or emotional enough to bear his wounds to another, even to a family member, and fell silent. “It has Toruk’s colors,” he said instead, referring to your ikran’s red, orange, yellow and black patterns. Looking at the creature, Jake tried his hardest to stand up straight when he discerned all the blood coating its neck and back from the natural red color disguising it. “I wanted to fly with her.”

Pulling him into a side-hug, “I’m sorry, Lo’ak,” Jake admitted, causing him to finally break the trance he had on the blood. Speechless at his father, proud and strong, admitting he was wrong out loud and that he was being hugged when it wasn’t like his father at all to show them casual physical affection. Jake knew what must be going through his head, he would be thinking the same if his own father had ever taken responsibility for wrongdoings, as well. “It’s my fault you didn’t get to.”

Lo’ak’s mouth was hanging low. “Dad…”

“But you will,” he said, determined and full of hope. He had to be. For his children.

“You think so?”

“I pray so,” he quoted Neteyam. “Your sister is stubborn. She will pull through. Don’t lose faith in her.”

Lo’ak’s grip on his forearm was painful.

“That ikran’s lost the half of its tail fins,” the boy sniffled, thickening his voice to hide the tears. “How did it get all the way here?”

It stung in Jake’s chest. The same way you’d hidden that injury. Your ikran was fueled only by the desire to get its rider to safety, it seemed.

It would never fly again.

Jake looked down at Lo’ak, only to be met with him avoiding his look, still concerned with hiding the tears. “Loyalty,” he said. “Devotion. Sometimes you don’t want to lose the things you love no matter what, that desperation gives you enough strength to push through any trial by fire. You would do anything. Anything.”

And sometimes it was fear that did it, but he didn’t mention that to Lo’ak to not put salt on their family’s injury. Jake didn’t want to think about how terrified you must have been, or he would actually go insane. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of you not making it in the end. He had to keep going. He had to push forward. Be the father this family needed him to be.

“Come on, boy,” he pulled Lo’ak gently. “Let’s go back.”

Your ikran whined at this pitifully. Jake tried not to think. He tried not to imagine what your reaction would be upon learning you would never fly together again, and had to put down this ikran that had been devoted endlessly to you if you wanted to get a new one.

Jake didn’t think. Because if he did, he would actually go insane from the pain.

Mo’at and Kiri emerged from the tent only in the morning, by which the whole family was cocooned in Jake’s embrace for the first time in years before the sky people had come back. They all had scrambled to get up, waiting with bated breath for one syllable of good news as Kiri slipped into Jake’s arms, one wink from falling asleep while standing. He kissed the girl’s head, soothing her, hoping this could be you eventually. He had been praying for it like a madman.

“Eywa has accepted to bestow your daughter back to you, Jakesuli,” was the only answer Mo’at had for them, no word about your physical wellbeing. “But only if she accepts as well.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You must go speak with her. At the Tree of Souls.”

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