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#she says she could start a war. she says my heart is yours، from the caspian shores.
coff33andb00ks · 6 hours
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Rule Breaker - Pt 2
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max verstappen x single mom!reader
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warnings: cursing, reader y/nsplains, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, logan tries to flirt, y/n's bestie is a tumblr girlie at heart, kiddo steals the show Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 6833 auth.note: thank you all so much for the love for part 1!!! ily all and i'm having so much fun writing this
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The paddock was relatively quiet so early in the morning. Unable to sleep, y/n had left the hotel and made her way to the track. She was taking the opportunity to explore the settings on the camera and getting her bearings since she didn't have any work duties to complete until later in the day. She had expected Kevin to want to come with her, but he'd opted to sleep in with Ellie, who would bring him to the track later. So she wandered, exchanging the occasional greeting with others. Stopping to take a photo of a bird perched on the fence in front of pit lane, she backed up, crashing into someone.
"Whoop, s'cuse me, sorry," she said, turning to apologize properly. She recognized the two men by their faces but her mind blanked on their names.
"It's alright, ma'am. Didn't mess up your shot, did we?" His American accent was a happy surprise.
"I don't think so." Smiling, y/n lowered the camera. "My fault, and I'll blame it on being new."
"Marketing?" The other man guessed.
Australian. And suddenly she remembered their names. "Social media. I'm y/n."
"So great to meet you." Logan tipped his head slightly. "Carolina?"
"God, you can take the hick outta Carolina, but you can't take the Carolina outta the hick." He grinned and she laughed. "North Carolina, yeah."
Oscar stared at Logan. "How did you guess that? She just sounds plain American?"
"No, dude, it's the lilt. It's like when George got pissed we couldn't pick up on the different English accents."
"Can he pick up on the different American south accents?" y/n asked.
Logan rolled his eyes. "He knows Brooklyn, Midwest, valley girl, and just south."
"In his defense it's hard to pick out each individual one," Oscar pointed out.
Y/n shrugged. "You've got a point. I sound different from people that grew up just an hour from me."
"Yeah! And I know mine's been butchered from so much time in Europe." Logan nodded.
"You still sound more like home than anyone else I've met."
"I was gonna say the same thing – you sound like home." He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that had her smiling in return.
"And what do I sound like?" Oscar asked with a grin.
"A magical place far, far away," y/n told him. She covertly checked the time and wondered if hospitality had finished setting up so she could get some coffee.
"Hear that? I sound like Star Wars."
"She's using southern charm on you, dude," Logan snorted.
"Well it's working, I'm charmed."
A giggle bubbled up her throat and she let it free, raising her camera and giving them a hopeful look. "Okay?"
"Hang on—" Logan fussed with his hair, and y/n laughed when Oscar reached to help him, then they both had to fuss with Oscar's hair. "Think we're presentable enough?"
She nodded, moving so the sunlight was beside them. She got several photos and thanked them. "I'll send them to y'alls social media teams?"
"You can just send it to me." Logan began patting his pockets for his phone.
"Unbelievable," Oscar muttered under his breath, and y/n barely heard it, giving Logan her number and adding him to her contacts once he'd sent her a text.
"I should get going – Sorry for bumping into you."
"Don't apologize, I'm glad you did."
As she walked away she gave her head a little shake, smiling to herself when she overheard Oscar's grumbling that Logan had flirted with fuckin' Red Bull's social media admin. Something told her to glance back and she did, amused to see Logan watching her. Don't show interest, don't show interest, don't—
He gave a little wave. And she smiled, waving back.
Fuck.
Ducking around the corner, she wandered until she found hospitality, grogginess taking over as she made her way to the back to fix herself coffee. She recognized a couple engineers and mechanics that she'd met in Milton Keyes and greeted them, settling into a corner to drink and look over the pictures she'd gotten.
She was on her second coffee, had uploaded the pictures to her laptop, and was editing the first batch for a short video when the chair across from her was pulled out, taking her shoe with it.
"Sorry," Max said when she yelped, chuckling as he bent to pick up her shoe. "Didn't know you were attached."
"Bad habit I'm afraid." Taking the shoe, she shifted to put it back on. "Picked it up when I was pregnant now I do it without thinking."
"For the swelling?" he asked, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee.
"Yeah." After tying the shoelace she shifted, tucking one foot beneath her. "Good morning, by the way."
"Morning. Already working?"
"I'm gonna do a short photo tour of the track. I got some nice shots."
"You walked the track?"
"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so… It's beautiful first thing in the morning."
Max nodded, picking up his coffee again. "Why couldn't you sleep?"
"Max, you should know that hotel beds suck. Especially with a three year old sleeping sideways and a snoring friend in the other bed. Is this where you tell me you slept great?"
"Haha, no. My sleep was shit but it wasn't because of the bed. I didn't get enough." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I was up late sim racing."
"Okay, explain sim racing to me," she requested, slipping one earbud in so she could check that the music she'd selected went well with the photos. Tweaking it as he began to talk, she realized she was barely paying attention to her work, exporting and posting the video to all the platforms then closing her laptop to focus on him. He talked with his hands. It was something she'd picked up on already, that if he was focused on the topic he used his hands. Maxplaining the fans called it. Finishing her coffee, she listened intently, propping her chin on one hand.
 He smiled, almost shyly, as he finished. "It's something I truly enjoy. I'm not very sociable. I like going out once in a while, but I prefer to stay in, yeah? And I can spend hours in the sim without thinking twice."
"I spent the last few days watching a lot of interviews. Not just of you and Checo, but everyone on the grid," y/n said softly. "Leclerc talks about piano and his family, Norris talks about gaming and DJing, and Hamilton has his six hundred side projects."
"Yes?" He didn't look or sound impatient for her to get to the point, and she appreciated that.
"The thing is, they all have passions outside of racing. This – formula one, fastest cars, all that – is a goal, a dream, but they all have something else they love, that they can pursue now." She paused, meeting his eyes. "The only thing I've seen you passionate about is racing."
He blinked once, nodding his head. "Because it is my passion."
Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment. "You're very lucky, Max."
That must have surprised him, because his brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"
"Not everyone is able to be successful following their passion. Being able to do what you love for both a job and hobbies is almost unheard of, yet you're doing it. You break records and win races and yeah you've had a few setbacks but you're still in love with this. And on your off time you're training to be better and studying tracks and you go home and race on your computer." She shook her head in amazement. "You're incredibly lucky, that your passion is not only something you're good at but something you can be immersed in nonstop, and that you haven't lost your love for it."
"I guess I am lucky," he said carefully. "But luck had nothing to do with me getting into formula one."
"I know." She held up her hands, not wanting him to think she thought he was in the position he was purely by chance. "I can't imagine how much work you've done over the years, or how many sacrifices you've had to make. It's just… In my experience, passion doesn't always equal financial stability is what I'm trying to say."
"What's that saying? Do something you love and you never work a day in your life?"
Y/n snorted. "That's bullshit. I love sleeping and yet I still have to work."
That made him laugh and she rolled her eyes, even though she enjoyed the sound. "Surely you love more than sleep."
"I love a lot of things. Maybe that's been my problem all my life. I find things and fall in love with them and when I think hey this might be it something new and shiny comes along and I fall in love with that."
"There's nothing wrong with being passionate about many things," Max said gently.
"That's what I keep telling myself. And yet—"
"Are you saying you don't love your job?"
She froze, a wave of panic rippling through her. "Uhmm… Since it's technically my first day I can't answer that."
"Okay. Do you love your social media?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.
The table which was, suddenly, smaller than she remembered.
"I like engaging others. I like creating conversations and seeing my work appreciated," she finally said.
"You sound like a PR person. Do you love it?" He enunciated each word slowly.
She couldn't say yes. The answer wasn't no, either, because she didn't hate it. "I personally hate it. But you've learned how to make it work for you, yeah? How to word things to spark a conversation among followers? What type of content people appreciate?"
"I like to think so."
"Stop being so unsure of yourself. You study it, right? At your last job when you posted a video and no one liked it what did you do? "
She exhaled harshly. "I compare it to ones that did well and pick it apart to see why it didn't work."
"Why?"
"Why?" she echoed.
"Why did you pick it apart?"
"Because I wanted it to do well," she said slowly.
"And these conversations you want to create, do you join in or sit and watch them happen behind the safety of your screen?" He reached over, gently turning her laptop so he could see the screen.
"I engage. I reply and ask questions to make the viewers want to keep the conversation going."
"Why?"
"Because—" She clicked the mouse, bringing up the comments below the video she'd posted to Instagram. "These comments? Come from people that love this brand – or sport. Some of them are trolls who just want to start up an argument to make their boring lives more interesting for a few minutes, but for the most part it's people who care. People who want to see this team do well. People who had the dream of doing it themselves but life got in the way. People who watched it with their parents and still watch to stay connected to someone they love. It's little kids who want to be like you. It's people who spend their hard earned money on a t-shirt or a hat or a ticket to see someone they admire live out their dream." She took a quick breath, scrolling through the comments. "If I don't like or respond to them, they feel like their opinions don't matter. And maybe they don't in the grand scheme of formula one. But they want to be seen and heard. When I click and they see that Red Bull Racing liked their comment or replied with an emoji or whatever, they have a few seconds of elation, and their support of this team is cemented just a bit more."
Max blinked at her, and she continued even though she heard him draw a breath to speak.
"I know very well how horrible social media can be. However, I've seen how it fosters growth for a company. You're not stupid, I'm sure you've seen how TikTok challenges or Instagram livestreams have brought in more support. Not to mention money. If a post of you wearing your Red Bull shirt gets a million likes, I can probably pull the data and show you that a hundred thousand people went to view the shirt on the official shop and probably twenty-five thousand ordered one. A silly picture of you arriving for race day or a new helmet design pulls people in and gets them excited. And, yes, it makes money. Which in turn pays the salaries of everyone on the team."
"Y/n."
She sucked in a breath. "I'm—"
"Passionate," he whispered before she could say sorry.
"I know what it's like to enjoy something and never feel included," she murmured. "So, yeah… I guess I love what I do, because I like that I can include people in something they love."
His hand covered hers briefly. "For a moment there, I even loved social media."
She watched his fingers squeeze hers before they slid away, wondering why his touch lingered. "Yeah?"
"It's easy to forget that there are real people saying nice things. Sometimes all you can see is the negativity."
"Negativity only breeds more negativity—"
"And when you look at it, it's all you'll see," he murmured.
"Well… So far everything I've posted today has been met with positivity."
"That's good."
"Okay, a few comments about wanting to see Lando on the podium. Thank you for letting me rant about why I do what I do," she said, glancing at his hand without meaning to.
"You let me do the same," he reminded her. Lifting his chin, he waited until she looked at him again. "Are you too busy to see what I was talking about?"
"I don't have anything scheduled until after lunch."
"Perfect." He lightly drummed on the table and stood. "Do you want to see my rig?"
"You do know I won't have a clue what anything but the computer and monitor are, right?" Smiling, she stood and began packing away her stuff.
Closing her laptop, he handed it over, catching her earbud when it fell off the edge of the table. "Maybe you'll like it so much you'll want one of your own."
*-*
He was rambling, he knew he was, telling her about the setup and his plan for the 24 hour race over the weekend and how he had everything scheduled so he could do two of the things he loved most. But he could tell she was paying attention, actually listening, as if she really cared. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he finished and looked up at her.
"So this is your actual job and the f1 thing is just a hobby?" she teased.
Laughing, he got to his feet and got himself a can of Red Bull. "It's just racing, y/n."
"And racing is life."
"Absolutely." He watched her muffle a yawn behind her hand.
"Am I allowed to mention it in my posts? Because it sounds so badass. Sim race stint then qualifying, chug a Red Bull, sim race stint then race."
"You can mention it, not like it's a secret." He watched her hide another yawn and cleared his throat. "Looks like you need a Red Bull."
She shook her head. "Can I tell you a secret?"
Nodding, he checked the time. Just over an hour before he had to meet with his trainer. "Of course."
"I hate Red Bull," she whispered.
He choked on a laugh. "You what?"
"I've tried so many times! I can just about stomach one of the flavored editions, but the original? Tastes like battery acid to me." She looked embarrassed and covered her face with her hands. "Please don't tell anyone."
"You hate the drink. So you accepted a job with a team owned by the drink company." He wanted to laugh. It was so absurd to him.
"Yes," she groaned.
"That would be like me taking a job at Instagram."
"I know it's so bad. What makes it worse is I love Monster—"
"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes.
"Please say you won't tell anyone. If corporate hears, I'll probably get fired. It's in my contract that I can only drink that while in pubic during race weekends which means I've got to either stick to water or learn to fake it."
"Your secret's safe with me," Max promised, breathing in the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him to get her bag.
"Thank you. I think Ellie would kill me if I told her I have to find a new job."
He didn't want her to go so soon. Ridiculous because he knew he'd see her in just a few hours. By the end of the weekend he'd be sick of seeing her. Sipping his drink, he finally sighed and cleared his throat. "You can take a power nap."
She whipped her head around, sending a wave of her perfume his way. "What?"
"A power nap." Before he could stop himself he was setting down his drink and taking her bag off her shoulder. "Thirty minutes, and you'll feel great."
"Max—"
"You need to be alert and focused, and I don't have a Monster for you to drink. Please, I insist." He motioned to his bed in the far corner, gently nudging her shoulder when she hesitated.
"You're sure?" she asked softly, and when he assured her he was she bent to take off her shoes, looking almost elated as she walked over to the bed. "Wait, I need to set an alarm."
"I'll wake you."
She lifted an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone to set a thirty minute timer. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the bed, thanking him several times as she laid down and curled up on her side. "Thirty minutes."
"Thirty minutes," he murmured, sitting on the couch to answer emails. It was fifteen minutes before she stopped shifting and kicking, and when he heard her breathing even out he knew she was asleep. Resetting the timer, he stood and carefully pulled the blanket over her, then returned to the couch and tried his best to ignore that she was sleeping in his room.
Her phone started buzzing on the table. She didn't stir so he ignored it, focusing on his email. That was impossible though so he cleared out his unread texts, one foot bouncing each time he heard her breathe. A mistake. It had been a mistake. He jumped up when her phone began to buzz again and, glancing from it to her, he realized she would undoubtedly sleep through it. He picked it up and was about to silence it when he saw the name on the screen. Ellie. That was her friend that was helping with Kevin… Something could be wrong, so he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
"Hey, we just— Who's this?"
"Max. This is Ellie?"
"…Yes…" The woman sounded wary. "Why are you – Oh! Max! Right of course. Um, is y/n okay?"
Max looked over at her, smiling faintly when she shifted. "She's fine. Taking a nap, actually."
Ellie snorted. "Of course she is."
"Is everything okay with Kevin?"
As though aware of the question, Kevin began chattering in the background. "Yeah, he's perfect. I was calling to let her know we just got here but I ain't got a clue where to go."
"Are you at the main entrance?" he asked, slipping out of the room so he wouldn't wake y/n. Ellie told him where they were and he nodded as he pulled out his own phone to text one of the team assistants. "You're going to walk down to the turnstiles, scan your passes and come through. Someone will be there to meet you and bring you to the motorhome."
"Ok perfect. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome. We'll be downstairs to meet you." Ending the call, he checked that the assistant was going to meet them then reentered his room. He closed the door and silenced his timer. "Y/n?"
She hummed in her sleep, and he smiled while he crossed over to the bed.
"Y/n," he called gently. She groaned, shifting to face away from him and it suddenly occurred to him that when he went to bed that night he would smell her on the pillow and the sheets. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, but it was too late now.
Would he be an asshole if he had his sheets changed before the end of the day?
Leaning down, he gently touched her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and he saw her eyes snap open. "You have company on its way," he said softly, tugging the covers back in case she tried to get comfortable again. His eyes swept down, locking on the skin bared by her shirt, which had ridden up in her sleep. "Come on, you had a nice nap, time to wake up."
"This bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the hotel," she mumbled, slowly sitting up and turning to face him. Smoothing down her shirt, she stretched and sighed, blinking as she focused on him. "Oh! Ellie and Kevin!"
He laughed as she leapt to her feet, his hands immediately moving to steady her. "It's fine, they haven't even made it to the paddock yet. I've sent someone to meet them."
"Oh," she murmured. "Thank you."
His hands were on her hips, and he forced his breathing to remain calm as she rested her hands on his forearms. The space, which had felt roomy and open, now felt tiny with how close she was to him. He was painfully aware of the scant space between them and each place their bodies touched, but more so of her. That heady floral scent of her perfume and the softness of her palms against his skin. The gentle lushness of her hips. He could hear every breath as his gaze traveled up from her hands to her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before settling on her eyes. "You good?"
"Yep."
"Right. Sorry," he mumbled, releasing her hips and taking a step back. "I'll get your shoes."
What was wrong with him? It hadn't been so long that he got turned on like a teenager just from touching a woman… As he bent to retrieve her shoes he counted back, dragging a hand over his face in humiliation. What must she think of him? He'd brought her to his room, showed off his fancy toys, then let her sleep in his bed. She probably thought he wanted to fuck her—
You do.
—which couldn't be further from the truth. He was just being nice. Because she was nice. That was all.
Wasn't it?
And why, he wondered as he handed her shoes to her and told her about answering Ellie's call, did he care what she thought? Not caring was his specialty.  
"How do you feel?" he asked, finishing his drink in one gulp.
"Refreshed. Thank you so much, Max." She tied her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair. Her lips moved but he didn't hear a word she said, watching her gather her hair and twist and twirl it, securing it with a band from her wrist.
Witchcraft.
"That okay with you?" she asked, slipping her phone into her pocket.
"Of course," he answered automatically.
She clapped her hands together. "Great! I'll put up a post asking for fan questions."
Max blinked, pinching his brows together. "Fan questions."
"Well we can't do an impromptu Q and A without questions." She had her other phone out now, fingers flying across the screen. "We'll do it this afternoon? Just let me know the best time."
Fuck's sake. What had he agreed to? More importantly, how had she gotten him to say yes? Everyone knew he had a low tolerance for marketing. He could take it back and say no, he couldn't do it today. He could tell her to get Checo to do it, that he would do it another time. He'd gotten out of marketing and social media stupidity without a problem plenty of times before. But he was already opening his calendar, going over his schedule, already telling her the open slot he had at 5, and was already putting Q and A with Y/n in that space.
"Perfect," she enthused, shouldering her bag and heading for the door, her fingers still tapping swiftly on the screen. "They should be here about now, right?"
Nodding, he followed her out the room and down, smiling when Kevin came through the front door with a woman he assumed was Ellie. The boy dropped her hand and sprinted over to y/n, who dropped down to hug him tightly. Max looked on, chest squeezing, searching for something that had been lacking, as mother and son talked and hugged, their words overlapping. They both understood each other perfectly, though, and he smiled at Kevin's excited retelling of what he'd had for breakfast. Introducing himself to Ellie, he reached to shake her hand.
"Mister Max!" The boy squealed.
"Kevin!" He was down in a split second, Ellie forgotten and chest constricting tighter as Kevin hugged him like a long lost friend.
"I saw two cats and a horse!" Kevin tugged at his shirt, grinning as he showed off his Red Bull merch.
"You did? What kind of cats?" he asked, taking the boy's cap and beginning to roll the brim for him while the boy described the cats and then the horse. Returning the cap, he enthused over animals, telling him about his own two cats and pulling out his phone to show him a few pictures.
"I miss Cotton," Kevin said with a small pout.
"Is that your cat?" Max saw his trainer approaching and gave him a quick nod.
"Yeah. We can't bring him to Eng-a-lund so Aunt Ellie's sister has him." Kevin's pout melted into a faint smile. "But she sends lots of pictures!"
"That's good. And maybe you'll be able to get him soon."
"Mama says it's s'pensive." The boy sighed as though he had to earn the money to bring his beloved cat to England.
"I know," Max sympathized. "Go with your mum, yeah? I've got to go train."
Kevin's face puckered in confusion. "Train? Like Shang?"
Y/n cleared her throat. "We watched Mulan on the flight last night."
"What did Shang do?" Max vaguely remembered the movie, but it had been years since he'd seen it.
"He made a man out of 'em."
"Okay, doodle bug, we have to let Max get his workout in," y/n said, flashing Max a smile. "If you ask another question he'll start singing the song."
Max stared at her then turned his attention back to Kevin. "What song?"
Because he had to. Because hearing her groan as her son began singing a song about being a man was priceless. And the dramatic way she hung her head when Ellie joined in made him laugh. Kevin giggled, cutting off his singing and looking at Max hopefully. "Will you watch it with me?"
"I—"
"Mister Max is too busy to watch a movie," y/n cut in.
"We'll watch it this weekend," Max promised, hating the sadness in the boy's eyes. Relieved when it disappeared in a flash, he gave him a high five and stood.
"Yay!"
He exchanged a look with y/n, who sighed and nodded, reaching for Kevin's hand. "I'll see you later," he said.
"5 o'clock," she reminded him as he headed out.
*-*
"So…"
Y/n groaned at Ellie's knowing tone. Watching as Kevin was snatched up by Lando so he wasn't crashed into by Charles in the impromptu game of football, she folded her arms over her chest. "So?"
"He had coffee with you."
God, here we go.
"Showed you his private room and his expensive computer setup… Let you take a nap in his bed—"
"He's just being nice," y/n insisted.
"And he's gonna take time out of his ridiculously busy weekend to watch a movie with Kevin." Ellie hummed, taking a sip of her tea.
Ignoring her, y/n looked on as Lando, Oscar, and Logan pretended to fight back the others while Kevin kicked the ball towards the goal. They were all shouting, dramatic and over the top, and above it all she heard the sweetest sound of her son's laughter. When the ball rolled into the net there was a roar that rivaled a championship game, and she joined in the cheering and applauding.
"You could do worse," Ellie murmured.
"Would you stop?" Y/n rolled her eyes, giving Logan a thumbs up when he gestured to the football and Kevin, understanding they wanted to have another quick game.
"He's cute."
"They all are," y/n muttered without thinking, lifting her camera for a few photos for her personal collection. Recognizing Checo when he suddenly appeared in the viewfinder, she snapped more photos, lowering the camera to watch.
"You know—"
"I can't wait for you to start your job so I can come and try to partner you up with a coworker," she huffed, snorting when Ellie gasped.
"You wouldn't."
"In a heartbeat."
"Besides, there's only one person in that group that's technically your coworker," Ellie said.
"I'm not here for that."
"I know." Ellie leaned against her briefly. "Wouldn't be me if I didn't encourage a delusion, though."
"Yeah…" Y/n laughed softly. "It's my first day, of course everyone's already in love with me."
"Exactly."
It was what she loved about Ellie. No matter what, she could make her laugh. Grinning, she watched Kevin bump into Oscar, who immediately collapsed with an exaggerated howl of pain, holding the leg that Kevin hadn't touched. "And they're all so good with kids."
"Total dad material, every one of them," Ellie agreed. "Not a stepdad, a dad who stepped up."
She choked on a laugh, playfully swatting her friend's arm. Because she knew Logan had overheard them. "Stop—"
"And probably more than willing to crack your back—"
"Oh my god." Clapping a hand over her face, she sensed someone approaching. "I have to work with these people."
"Only until they fuck a baby into you."
"Hey, y/n, your kid's so cool," Logan said.
Her face burned but she slowly pulled her hand away, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."
He propped his hands on his waist, breathing heavy as he watched Kevin dart between Lando, Oscar, Checo, and Alex. "He always this energetic?"
"Fify-fifty. He's either like this or so quiet I worry he's up to something."
Logan chuckled. "Is he a troublemaker?"
"Nah, if he's quiet it's because he's focused on his cars or studying a bug."
"Christ! Get it away from me!"
Y/n's heart lurched at the sudden shriek from Lando, and she barely saw him sprinting away from her son, who was holding something in his hands.
"It's a frog, mate!" Oscar shouted behind him.
"Don't care!"
Kevin slowly walked over to y/n. "Mama, look!" he said, eyes shining with excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed from the hard play and he was giggling. "Mister Lando scared of a l'il frog."
"He's just not a country boy like you, honey," she soothed. "But maybe we should put the frog somewhere he'll be safe?"
"C'mon, Kev, I'll help you," Logan offered.
"Hmm," Ellie hummed once Logan had scooped Kevin up, cupping one hand over the boy's to keep the frog from jumping away.
"Shut it."
"I didn't say a word."
"Please, that hmm contained at least two paragraphs, ten innuendoes, and a pointed reference," y/n said, trailing behind Logan. Looking on as he set Kevin down near the tree line, she got a few pictures of them releasing the frog. She cringed when her son wiped his dirty hands on his shorts but Logan didn't seem to mind, lifting him up and carrying him back to her.
"He's free!" Kevin squealed. "Thanks, Mister Logan."
"Anytime, Kev." He tousled his curly hair after setting him down, flashing a shy smile at y/n.
She returned the smile, eyes following Kevin as he ran back to the game. "He's gonna pass out as soon as we get back to the hotel."
"He could probably run circles around all of us all night," Logan chuckled.
"True…"
"So like…" He cleared his throat. "Are you married?"
God, she loved Floridians. "No," she answered, turning to look at him. "Are you?"
"God no." He made a face at the thought. "So you're single?"
She nodded, already formulating how she would turn him down if he asked her out. She was too busy. Not interested in anything romantic at the moment. It never hurt to be honest, right? She couldn't lie and say she just had a messy breakup or—
"Would you be interested in – I'm not trying to hook up or anything," he said quickly when she opened her mouth. "Just, like, as a friend? I know how it is to feel like a fish out of water here. I'm kind of used to it but I can remember feeling like I was alone and surrounded by people who didn't understand my Americanisms."
"Oh." Aw. Damn it, she couldn't say no to that. "I… Yeah, sure, I'd like that."
He smiled. "Awesome. Maybe we can do something tomorrow after practice?" he suggested.
"Sure, sounds great. Text me?" she requested. Her phone alarm started going off and she pulled it out to silence it. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."
She waved to Ellie and mimed that she had to get some work done, waiting for her friend to wave back before making her way to the garage. While walking she got a message from one of the mechanics that the cars were photo ready and quickened her pace, envisioning the photos she would get of the mechanics and engineers. As she worked she asked questions, truly interested in what everyone did, a small idea forming that she'd run by Mr. Horner later. She knew that she would enjoy mini profiles on the team, with just the most basic of information like their names and where they were from. Maybe how long they'd been on the team, what had brought them to formula one…
"Thanks so much guys," she said as she finished up, declining the offer of a cold Red Bull. Her alarm went off again – twenty minutes to get ready to meet Max in the lounge back at the motorhome – and she switched off the camera, waving bye and turning to leave the garage.
She slammed into a human wall, grunting in surprise as she stumbled back. Twice in one day, really? The bump had caused the camera to slam against her ribs and she rubbed the spot gently. "I'm sorry! Wasn't looking where I was going."
She expected a chuckle, a reassurance that it was a hazard of the job. Maybe even an apology in return. Instead, the older man sneered at her, looking her up and down in such a way she felt like a child caught misbehaving. "You need to learn your place."
She gulped, fear prickling through her embarrassment. And even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, she found her mouth opening to apologize. "S-sorry."
"Horner know better than to hire amateurs," he muttered, scoffing. "He obviously didn't hire you for your looks."
She bristled at that. "I beg your pardon?"
"As you should." He brushed past her.
She felt weak. Clammy and cold. Shuddering slightly, she swallowed hard and left the garage, heading straight for the motorhome, where she was able to catch her breath. Who the hell had that been? He'd been wearing a Red Bull pass, so he had to be on the team. He was obviously important. She couldn't imagine him being considered her boss, not when everyone else had been so nice and—
"Ah, y/n, are you ready to do the Q and A?" Max asked.
Y/n felt her lungs burn and sucked in a breath, staring at the cup of coffee she'd made herself. "Y-yeah, I'll meet you up on the deck?"
Please go up, please go up, please go—
"What's wrong?"
Goddammit.
"Y/n?" He looked and sounded concerned, and she ducked her head as he walked over. "Hey…"
"I'm fine," she lied.
"You're a terrible liar," he said, leaning against the counter. "What happened?"
"Nothing, I'm just overreacting." Rubbing her hand over her face, she shook her head and reached for the coffee. "Just a run-in with an asshole."
"But I haven't seen you in three hours." Max's lips barely twitched at the corner.
"Not you, a different asshole." She felt her cheeks burn and groaned. "I'm not saying you're an asshole!"
"You don't have to, I already know I can be an asshole at times." Folding his arms over his chest, he met her eyes. "Who was it?"
"That's the thing, I don't even know. I was coming out of the garage – You know, I went down to get pics of the mechanics? Anyway, I was about to text you about the Q and A and wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into him."
"Who?"
"I don't know. Older, kinda tall? Sour faced." She raised a hand to the man's approximate height. "I apologized and he told me I need to learn my place, then said I was an amateur and Horner obviously didn't hire me for my looks – I didn't ask his name because I was in shock. All I know is he had a Red Bull pass."
Max's brow furrowed, and she felt him tense. Then, to her surprise, he described the man perfectly.
"Yeah, that's him." She bit her lip. "You know him?"
"Unfortunately," he muttered. "It's my dad."
"Oh." Y/n looked down at her coffee. "Sorry."
"Me too." He sighed, pushing away from the counter. "Don't listen to him, yeah? You have more right to be here than he does, and you're not an amateur. As much as I hate social media, even I can tell that you're excellent at your job."
"Thank you," she whispered. "I just… I've spent my entire adult life working to improve myself and discover my own worth as a human being, and I can give other women empowering pep talks, but I still freeze when a man that thinks he's better than me talks down to me."
"Fuck him," Max said simply. "He's not your boss, he can't control anything you do in your life."
"Either you're really trying to make me feel better or you really don't like your dad," she murmured. When he didn't reply, she slowly lifted her gaze. Seeing the muscle in his jaw twitch, she felt a pang of sympathy. If the man had been that rude to her, a stranger, she couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been like to his own son.
"If he speaks to you like that again, you let me know."
"I don't want to cause a fuss—"
"Not wanting to cause a fuss is why he thinks he can get away with it," Max pointed out. "I'll speak to Christian—"
"Max, no, it's literally my first week!"
"Which is why you have to set boundaries now. He'll either treat you with the respect you deserve or he'll be banned from the paddock."
Y/n blinked in shock. "You'd have him banned?"
"In a heartbeat." The look on his face told her he was serious, from the determined set of his jaw to the way he kept his eyes level with hers. "So either you mention it to Christian in the team meeting or I will."
"God," she groaned, knowing that this had to be just one tiny item among a long list of infractions for Max to want him banned. "Okay. I'll tell him before the team meeting tomorrow."
"Good. Come, let's do the Q and A. You ready?" he asked, taking her empty cup and throwing it away.
"Yeah." Grateful for the distraction, she walked to the stairs with him. "I did a clip of you looking confused and posted it on TikTok and Instagram that went viral because I captioned it When You Ask Max Verstappen About Anything But Racing. Oh and I found out Tumblr fans love making gifs of you laughing. Twitter likes making memes out of your face. Whereas Facebook is mostly a bunch of boomers commenting about how I'm ruining the integrity of the sport."
"I really do hate social media," he snorted.
"And that is why I'm doing social media," she teased. Halfway up the stairs, she slowed, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Max."
"For hating social media? You're welcome."
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@spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris
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The Glass Coffin: HOFAS x Elriel
Many HOFAS spoilers ahead!! This is an INTENSIVE post on all the Elriel coding in HOFAS, so strap in! This is largely a theory post and my personal interpretations, so take it or leave it! It's all in good fun.
Let's start with The Glass Coffin. When it comes to the analysis of the songs Bryce played for Azriel and Nesta in the much beloved and much dissected bonus chapter, I have seen a lot of conversation around Stone Mother and significantly less (if any?) around The Glass Coffin!
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The Glass Coffin is played next after the Stone Mother. And it is a ballet.
What is the The Glass Coffin?
My friends, it is Sleeping Beauty.
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Now we all know that many suspect Elriel to be a Sleeping Beauty retelling. And I'll be honest, I take a lot of the mythology or "retellings" with a grain of salt when it comes to SJM, because she doesn't do incredibly loyal retellings but takes bits and pieces of inspiration. I suppose it's up to you where you draw the line of a retelling, or free IP inspiration. But one thing to understand about IP is that Sarah J. Maas would have to get Disney's permission to call her work a retelling of Disney's Sleeping Beauty. Much like Beauty and The Beast, she did not "retell" the Disney princess movie, but the original La Belle et la Bête by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve published in 1740. So with that little lesson in intellectual property, lets look at the story of The Glass Coffin, because it is actually quite interesting:
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A magician forces a proposal on a Maiden using his magic. The Maiden is repulsed by the use of magic in the proposal and rejects him. The Magician turns her brother into a stag, traps her in the glass coffin, and enchants the land around them.
There is a LOT to unpack here. I do not think Lucien is "The Magician" in this story. Instead, I think the Cauldron is, and I do think that the use of magic to force a proposal is a very close parallel to what Azriel discovered in HOFAS: That the Cauldron had been corrupted by the Asteri to serve their will. If you have read all of the books in the multiverse, you know that there is no other SJM universe where mating bond rejections happen. There is no other universe in which there are unhappily mated pairs forced together because the function of the mating bond, at a base level, is simply to produce the most powerful offspring. Mates in other worlds are true soulmates, and they fall in love before discovering they are mates.
In HOFAS, Azriel listened to a song from The Glass Coffin. He also listened to the story of Silene, and learned that the Cauldron was corrupted by the Asteri. It is not a theory or interpretation that the Asteri curate powerful bloodlines to ensure they have the strongest food from the souls that they eat. It is a fact. So it is not a jump to interpret that the Cauldron's corruption by the Asteri, and mates that are not a good fit on a soul level but forced together to produce powerful offspring, are one and the same. At this time, both Azriel and Elain have discussed feelings of repulsion or discomfort regarding E/ucien's bond. There are also negative consequences to a female rejecting the bond, as there were for the Maiden in The Glass Coffin. Rejecting a bond can lead to madness on the males end in Prythian because he believes he is entitled to her, just as the Maiden rejecting the Magician's proposal led to him trapping her in glass and enchanting the lands so no one else could have her.
This is already quite interesting, but it gets even more powerful as you continue to breakdown the Elain coding in HOFAS.
This line basically started a war:
"I can hear your heart beating through the stone." She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer, "Can you hear mine?" (ACOWAR, chpt. 24)
Now many people have used this to claim she is Lucien's mate, because she can hear his heartbeat. Though only a few pages earlier, we had this moment:
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Elain can hear Feyre's heartbeat. She says if she listens carefully, she can hear hers too. At the time, we all assumed she was talking about Nesta. And yet we've discovered that Vesperus, an Asteri, (or Valg, depending on which theory you vibe with) was also a beating heart under the stone.
Inside a glass coffin.
More than that, we have this passage:
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We now know that the Prison was once the Dusk Court, and just like UTM, The Hewn City, and Ramiel, it is encapsulated in stone beneath the mountain. Within the stone of the Prison lies the long buried heart of the Dusk Court. When you look back at Elain's line to Lucien, and see that she is staring out at the city, looking for answers at the heart she can hear beating beneath the stone, and not Lucien, this all starts to click together in a brilliant way. And the imagery, the island having a soul nurtured and blossoming under her care, has Elain written all over it.
Now, the reason I bring up the Hewn City here is because I believe there is a reason for Elain's lifelessness and distress in the Hewn City that has nothing to do with her wearing the color black.
In HOFAS, we discover a few important things about Earth Fae. Lidia discovers in her time on Team Archives what the Earth Fae did, and what their powers were used for:
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Earth Fae were used on Midgard to discover ley lines of power to create powerful strongholds. One important thing I have noticed is that all Fae on Midgard are said to come from either Erilea or Prythian (at least that is all that is mentioned) and yet there is no indicator of where the Earth Fae come from. it is my personal belief the Earth Fae are from Prythian. Yet the entire Dusk Court disappeared, and their story continued on Midgard. It is my belief that Elain is not only a Seer, but that she has also been gifted with the Earth powers that have since been lost on Prythian, priming her to both restore Earth powers on Prythian as well as the Dusk Court.
What does this have to do with the Hewn City?
Earth Fae experience distress when they are in places where the magic is dead or warped, and they are the only ones that can feel it:
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Bryce mentions she forgets the Earth Fae even have magic, because what they can do is often unseen.
If Elain is in possession of the lost Earth power, she would have been able to feel her power literally shriveling up and dying anywhere that has been warped by that magic.
And then of course we have the fact that the cave on Prythian is an exact match to the Cave of Princes on Avallen. We end HOFAS with all the weapons in the possession of the IC, the knowledge that there are cache's of magic hidden in the lands, and that there are places where the magic has been twisted and must be freed, one being the Prison/Dusk Court.
This was the imagery used once the magic was freed on Avallen, and it took its true, lush, blossoming form:
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If what is true on Avallen will also be true once the Dusk Court is freed on Prythian, answer this question honestly: When you read this imagery- blooming vines and roses, beautiful and surreal, the land seeming to know her, small blooming flowers nestling around her body and in her hair- who do you think of? Who could this possibly be alluding to back in Prythian?
Elain's coding was all over HOFAS, and Azriel's "what if the Cauldron was wrong storyline" continued. These statements are true, even if none of my theories about her being an Earth Fae are right, though I know I'm not the only one who believes that is where we are headed!
The fact that The Glass Coffin is Sleeping Beauty, and that Azriel listened to it, may not be a powerful statement on its own (though I think it is). But the fact that the Cauldron corruption was revealed, and The Glass Coffin is a story of a woman who was entrapped due to her rejecting a proposal forced by magic, and Sarah used the Glass Coffin again with Vesperus, potentially tying her back to the heartbeat Elain can hear if she listens closely, it's all just too much to ignore.
I was personally overwhelmed by all of the Elain and Azriel nods in HOFAS. I think they get buried under all of the criticism in the book. I am so excited to see where everything goes, and I hope you had fun going down this rabbit hole with me!
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islandtarochips · 2 days
Note
[MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM: UNKNOWN]
"Koa Nakiu.
Hope this message reaches you well. I've always wanted to say that you've been one of the closest aids I've ever met, and I'm grateful for your kind companionship. But now, with everything in my control, I just wanted to say this very thing to you — that I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that you went through all that pain just to come this far. You never deserved that in the first place. And I'm sorry that I have to let you go, as well. Maybe one day, I'll see you again. Because right now, we all are balancing on a tight string and a huge pit surrounding darkness is waiting for one of us to come down. I can't let that happen. I need to make things better, in my power.
That's why. I would only want you to tell the rest of our allies.. that they shouldn't worry about me. I could be everywhere, making sure you all are okay. Tell Aleks and Charles that I'll be fine, because I've vanished from the world now. Only for the sake of them, and for the world.
Your truly, Vorona."
Arthur's Note: I shall answer this one...with a ONESHOT story. Here it is! (And sorry @welldonekhushi for taking so long! It took me a while to find some time and ideas to get this right. Hope this is ok...)
-----------------------------------------------
“Vorona? Who the fuck is Vorona?” Koa asked himself after reading this mysterious letter.
He had found it in his drawer after withdrawing himself from the party. The party that they are celebrating for winning the war. Him and the gang had saved Europe from Perseus who was about to release the Nuke all over the area.
And they have stopped him. All thanks to Bell for telling them the location of where Perseus was at.
Koa had kept staring at the letter, trying to figure out who would put this paper into his drawer before heading out to finish the mission.
He also questions how this mystery person knows his name and knows about Aleks and Charles. He thought it might be a threat but the way he reads sentence after sentence.
It…doesn’t sound threatening at all. It somehow makes him feel…guilty all of a sudden.
Koa rubbed his head as he felt puzzled. He wanted to know of who actually left this letter in HIS drawer and how they know about him. Until he smells a familiar scent from the letter.
He slowly put it up close to his face as he took a good sniff from it. The scent of a cologne mixed with a smoking smell from a cigarette. And then it triggered his memory of seeing someone recognizable.
Koa looked at the wall as he remembered now. “...Bell?”
He imagined the Russian man smiling at him softly.
“What the-” 
He looked back at the letter as he felt something bad had happened. Something happened that HE wasn’t there for the man he called his close friend and brother.
He read it again as his hand started shaking.
Why does he feel the heaviness in his heart?
Why does he feel like his body is shaking so much?
He folded the letter and put it in his pocket before walking out of his room. As he saw the gang is still partying. 
Park, Sims and Lazar were talking. While Hudson was getting annoyed by Woods drunkenly talking to him as Mason was just laughing.
And then saw Charles and Aleks were chatting away remembering a good time.
But where is Adler and Bell?
He walked over to Charles and Aleks as he got the two attention.
“Koa! Hermano! You’re missing yourself with the drink that you like!” Aleks said with a cheerful tone and with a bright smile; as she grabbed another cup that was on the table next to her. She walked up to him before she saw Koa’s expression. “Hey…you ok? You seem like you saw a ghost.”
Koa looked down at Aleks, seeing her worried expression. He cleared his throat before looking around. “Have you seen Bell and Adler? I need to talk with them. Or…make that Adler.”
Aleks pondered a bit as she tried to remember. “Um…well…I only saw Adler. I was also questioning where Bell was as well. But I didn’t ask him yet.”
 “Then where is Adler?”
“He should be outside smoking.”
Charles stepped in looking at the two. “What’s going on?”
“Koa was just asking where's Adler and Bell.”
Charles was taking a sip from his drink before looking around. “Hmmm. All I can remember is that it was only Adler who came in last. I don’t think I’ve seen Bell anywhere.”
Charles saw Koa’s expression had turned pale and saw he didn’t hear him. “Nakiu? Helloooooo? Earth to NAKIU.” He snapped his fingers in front of Koa.
The big man jolted at hearing the snap of the Professor’s fingers. “U-Uh- Sorry! I um…”
“¿Estás bien? What’s going on?’ Aleks asked as she looked even more worried for her Māori friend.
Before Koa could answer, he saw Adler walk back in. “I’ll be right back.” He quickly walked past Charles and Aleks as he hurriedly walked up to the CIA man.
“Adler!”
Adler turned his head to see Koa walking up to him so quickly as he stood firm. While flicking his cigarette away. “Yes, Nakiu?”
Koa got up to him as he took a deep breath and looked at him. Looking deep through this man’s sunglasses that he always wore wherever he goes. “Adler…I…I need to know. Where is Bell?”
Adler raised his eyebrows a bit after hearing that question. Before looking away to avoid the Captain’s gaze.
Koa knew something was up. He kept asking him that same question. “Adler. WHERE is BELL?” He saw him trying to turn away from him but he stopped him.
“Don’t you fucking turn away from ME, Adler. ANSWER my question.” Koa started to protest while blocking his way.
“MOVE. NAKIU. I got other business to get done.” Adler warned the Captain.
“The business shit is ALREADY done!”
Aleks quickly stepped in between the two before looking at Koa. “K-Koa, calm down. What’s going on?”
Koa started to point at Adler as he didn’t listen to Aleks. “Where IS he, Adler? I just want to KNOW!” He didn’t pay attention to anyone else except to Adler. He was so focused on getting an answer from this CIA agent. He KNOWS that he had something to hide.
He’s feeling impatient but did his best to stay cool.
Charles also stepped in before touching Koa’s shoulder. “Nakiu. You need to calm down.”
Koa shoved his hand away before pushing Aleks aside gently as he took a step forward towards Adler. 
The Agent took a step back as his back touched against the wall. While staring up at the angry Captain.
The rest of the gang saw this as well as they walked over to see what was going on.
Mason stood next to Aleks. “What’s going on? Why is Koa like this?”
Aleks was just looking worried as she wanted to stop Koa from doing anything stupid. But somehow deep down inside of her tells her to wait and see. “I-I…I don’t know. Koa kept asking Adler where's Bell…”
“You know…I was questioning that too.” Woods said as he took a step in. “Hey ADLER! Where IS Bell huh? I thought he was with YOU.”
Adler was silenced as he was just staring at Woods, who is a bit drunk, through his sunglasses before looking back at Koa.
The Māori man was towering over him a bit, he was DESPERATE to know where his friend, his ally, his BROTHER.
“ADLER. PLEASE. I’m begging you. WHERE is BELL?”
Adler was still being quiet as he looked away. Koa was getting annoyed at this. He took another step forward, cornering Adler, and glared at him. “ADLER! Where is BE-”
“HE’S GONE!”
The garage was in deep silence after Adler had yell with those TWO simple words. The words had cut so deep into Koa’s heart.
Aleks, Charles and everyone else in the garage were shocked to hear this. Except for Hudson, Sims and Park. For some reason...
Koa was just standing there with wide eyes. “W-What…?”
“He’s FUCKING gone, Koa! You happy now?” Adler said with an annoyance in his tone but with a small guilt mixed with it.
Aleks was covering her mouth in shock. While Charles was just standing there also being shocked and was gripping his glass.
Mason walked over as he touched Koa’s shoulder while glaring at Adler. “Russel. What do you mean he’s GONE?”
“What did you do to him, Adler?” Woods asked the question as he took a step forward while glaring at him.
Adler was silenced again as he sighed trying to find the right words.
Aleks looked at Adler with saddened eyes. “Adler…?”
He was about to say something before jolting at Koa, grabbing him by his leather brown jacket and getting his back slammed against the wall.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?!?” Koa yelled, making everyone panic.
Mason quickly grabbed Koa’s shoulder trying to pull him away but he’s too stubborn and strong to be pulled back. “KOA! CALM DOWN!”
“Koa! Let go of him NOW!” Hudson ordered the Captain.
But he didn’t listen as he slammed Adler again against the wall. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO BELL?!? TELL ME!”
Adler groaned as he grabbed onto Koa's arms. “Let GO of me, you bastard! Get OFF!"
“Not until you TELL me what you did to the man who had HELPED us!”
“For fuck sake- LAZAR!” Hudson rubbed the bridge of his nose before pointing at Lazar.
Lazar stepped in and helped Mason to pull Koa away.
The Captain struggled to get out of their grip while still yelling at Adler.
Charles scoffed seeing this scene before looking at Adler. “Answer the DAMN question, Adler. What did you do to him and WHERE is he?” Then he glared at Hudson. “I know YOU have something to do with this as well.”
Hudson glared back at the Professor. “What made you say THAT?”
“Don’t play the dumb shit game here. You both are in the same agencies to SAVE the world but I know deep down that you’re just a bunch of BULLSHITS.” Charles snarled at both of the CIA agents. “So tell us the truth or I might reconsider Nakiu here to disfigure BOTH of your faces.” 
Charles gave them both a daggered stare as he took a quick swig on his drink down to his throat. Before Adler sighs in defeat and fixes himself up.
“The CIA had already put Bell under a death sentence. We’re only using him and keeping him alive for some information about Perseus.” Adler explained.
Aleks was confused as she looked at Adler. “DEATH sentence? What does that supposed to mean?”
Hudson stepped in to answer that. “Which means that he’s already no use for us after this mission.”
Everyone was stunned. Except for Park and Sims as the two looked away. Koa caught the two as he glared at them. While still being held back by Lazar and Mason.
“You two know about this DIDN’T you?” Koa said with anger.
“Hey man! I’m just a guy who solves problems! Which, in case you FORGET, that I provide materials for y'all. I didn’t know about the death sentence until NOW!” Sims raised his hands in defense.
“Yeah, by putting a SYRINGE into his fucking EYEBALL?”
“You WHAT?” Mason looked at Sims and Park with a dumbfounded look. “You put a syringe into Bell’s EYES? WHY?!”
Park motioned her hands towards Mason to calm down. “It’s the only way to get his memory back for him to tell us of where Perseus was at.”
Woods walked up while pointing his finger at her. “BULLSHIT! He could’ve died from how many times you have to put that in him!”
Hudson stepped in between Woods and Park. “Alright ENOUGH! Let’s just take a breather!”
Aleks was just looking at the gang back and forth before looking at Adler who was just standing there. “Adler…why would you do that? He TOLD us of where Perseus was at. And yet, you decided to…to KILL him?”
“That wasn’t my choice. He’s already on a death sentence under the hands of the CIA. It’s unfair, yes. Which is why Hudson wanted me to end him instead of them.”
“You CAN’T even think of another way to let him stay? O-Or let him walk freely just for a bit?”
“It’s not that simple Aleks-”
“It should’ve been simple!” Aleks yelled at Adler as tears slowly appeared into her brown sad eyes. She could feel a small pain piercing into her chest. “He TRUSTED us! He trusted KOA! He trusted CHARLES! He trusted WOODS! MASON! ME! EVERYONE in this fucking safe house!”
Everyone was looking at Aleks, seeing her for the first time being upset. Of course, she’s upset most of the time but not like this.
“¿¡¿CÓMO PUEDES HACERLE ESTO?!?” She walked up to him as she pushed him back. “¡¿POR QUÉ TIENES QUE HACER ESTO?!”
She started to hit him against his chest with her fist while still crying and yelling at him. Before Charles walked over and gently pulled Aleks away from him. He comforted her a bit before he gave a disappointed look at Adler.
Adler was just staring at Aleks who was crying as he was about to reach out to her. “I’m sorry…”
“No you’re not.”
Adler looked at Koa seeing him walking up to him. Lazar was about to grab Koa but stopped himself as he knew that the Captain needed to say something.
“You’re not SORRY because if you were you wouldn’t killed him.” Koa said as he blocked in front of Adler from Aleks. Towering over him again. He looked at the CIA Agent as he wanted to end him so badly. But Koa had been learning all of his life. Since the very beginning of him joining the army. He didn’t come this far to end with violence to someone who he was working with.
He took a deep breath as he slowly leaned back. “And even if you DIDN’T. You still won’t trust him.” He looked at Adler with sadden eyes before he slowly dug into his pocket and brought out the folded letter. The letter that he had found from his drawer.
Everyone was looking at Koa confusingly as they saw a paper in his hand.
Koa was just staring at the folded paper.
Breathing calmly before clutching onto it and looking Adler straight into his eyes. Through those ridiculous sunglasses “I’m done.”
Adler raised his eyebrows after hearing that from the Captain. “What?”
“I’m DONE. I’m done with this mission. I’m done with this war. I am done with you and your CIA bullshits.” Koa slowly looked at Adler with seriousness in his eyes. “I’m going back to New Zealand. Going back to the Army. And I would appreciate it if you NOT contact me. EVER.”
Adler was dumbfounded to hear this from Koa. It was unexpected that he would actually let one person who had passed. Could make him quit.
Koa then glared at Hudson. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I’m sure there are other people who would like to be your little PUPPET.”
Hudson was silenced when the Captain had pointed out to him. Which he looked away.
Koa kept his glare as he looked at Park and Sim. “I thought you guys knew better. Then being DESPERATE to solve or finding the answer.”
Sims rubbed behind his head and looked away. While Park looked at him with guilt as she rubbed her arm.
Koa sighed calmly before turning around to look at Woods and Mason. “Woods. Mason. It’s…an honor to be working with you both. I apologize that this meeting won’t last long.” 
“Hey, we understand your struggles. And…we’re sorry that this is a twisted night.” Woods said as he put his hand out to the Captain. “It’s nice meeting you, Captain.”
Koa looked at Woods' hand and smiled at him a bit before shaking his hand.
Mason also did the same with Koa and gave him a hug after. He appreciated this from him.
So Koa leaned back and gave him a nod before walking over while looking at Lazar. “Lazar.”
“Captain. ….I…” Lazar was trying to find words to say but seemed like he was too ashamed to even speak.
But Koa understands and just gives him a reassuring smile before patting his shoulder. “It’s alright, Lazar. I’m not blaming you.”
Then he got to Charles and Aleks. He slowly looked down at the woman who was crying still. He could see pain in her eyes as if she was blaming herself for not knowing the truth.
“Aleks…” Before he could say anything else. He suddenly felt Aleks hugging him. Koa showed his expression of being worried for his dear friend. As he hugged her gently.
“Lo lamento…” Aleks said it between her sobbing.
It broke Koa’s heart to see this woman who he called sister like this. He gently leaned her back and placed his hand on her cheek before wiping her tears away. “No lo seas. No lo sabías.” He said it softly before smiling at her.
Aleks was still feeling guilty when she saw Koa’s soft smile. She just smiled back a bit before hugging him again.
He chuckled as he didn’t reject another hug. And saw Charles was fixing his glasses. “Are you crying?” Koa cooed at him in a teasing way.
“Tch. As IF. I just got something in my eye.”
“Uh huh. Riiiiiiiiiiight.”
The Captain chuckled as he saw the Professor walk over. Seeing him sigh before running his hand through his brown hair.
Aleks leaned back and wiped her tears before looking at the two.
Koa and Charles were just staring at each other. Despite them hating each other, teasing each other and even getting on each other’s nerves. Koa knows deep down that Charles cared.
“Soooo. Wanna hug it out?” Koa asked with a small smile.
Charles rolled his eyes as he fixed his glasses before putting his hand out to Koa. “A handshake would be sufficient.”
The Captain smiled a bit as he took the Professor’s hand and shook on it.
“As much…as I despise you from the very beginning. I will be missing your annoyance around here. It will be quiet without you.” Charles said as he looked into Koa’s eyes. As if he meant it really well.
“Getting soft on me, Charlie?” Koa said with a teasing grin.
“DON’T make me take my words back, Nakiu.”
Koa laughed a bit before smiling at Charles and then at Aleks. “I…I’m really glad that I have met you both.” He said it softly.
“We’ll see you tomorrow when you go out.” Aleks promised as she wanted to see her friend one last time before departure.
Koa just smiled at her. “I would like that.” Then he sighs before turning to face everyone. “I’ll pack my things.”
After that, Koa had left to go to his room to get his things. Of course, he doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to go away after everything that they have been through.
With some laughter, arguments and working together.
But…
It wasn’t the same without that ONE person that he deeply cared for. Hoping it’ll give him a second chance to change once and for all. And now…he lost it. AGAIN. ----------------------
Words: 3040 Characters (Left -> Right)
Koa "Hunter" Nakiu -> Me
Aleksandra Clarke R. -> @alypink
Charles "Charlie" Moore -> @deeptrashwitch
Vasili "Bell" Sokolov -> @welldonekhushi
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oatbugs · 2 months
Text
she says my heart is yours, from the caspian shores.
#in astana there is haunting symmetry. in the summer there are flowers breathing fresh air and fumes. in the winter ice covers the park#sole-deep so you let the LCD screen advertisements warm your heart. the serpent offers her a gold apple from a brass tree.#she bites the serpent. in london a biochemistry graduate becomes obsessed and beautiful. she designs gene sequencing devices.#she says the rubber components smell like cinnamon.#in tashkent the trees shine under the sun and the sky is vast. by the blue pond and the tall marble spires you see the fractal patterns#on the ceiling in her eyes. she feels like a strobe light firing onto your eyelids. she takes revenge. you can hear the water droplets fall#from into the fountain. she tells you about cre-lox knockout and how you should head into the city cafe and you cant#stop staring into her eyes and you can't listen very well. when she laughs all your hearts almost become an ocean.#in bishkek you suffer death by a thousand sunsets. your world is white and lilac and mountainous. you learn about the joy of#taking without giving. backstage of the opera theatre you kiss him again and again and again until briefly you are the apex.#in tehran the sun is almost as fervent as their full-up lungs (it takes up the span of your window. crisp edges through a particulate storm#they spend an hour making a 10-minute ride to chamran and the wheels are melting. the two girls in the car spend that time wisely.#the air is filled with smog so she breathes her instead. you like how she looks at you like she'll rip you apart.#here they sold the mountaintops. the girls take a brother'a army-issued rifle to the forest with them.#she says she could start a war. she says my heart is yours، from the caspian shores.
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melzula · 3 months
Note
well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?
zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?
i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂
a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!
summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends
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“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”
“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”
“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”
“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”
“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.
“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.
Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.
“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.
You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.
“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”
“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”
“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”
“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.
“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.
“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.
“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.
“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”
“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”
After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.
“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.
“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”
“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.
You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21
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infictionalwonderland · 10 months
Note
Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?
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. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!
Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.
So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.
‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.
Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.
Surely this was an exaggeration.
The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.
The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.
“How do you feel about your costume?”
Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”
The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.
With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.
The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.
He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.
“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”
“SEBA—“
“Cut!”
The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.
“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.
“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”
“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.
You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.
“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”
“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.
“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.
The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)
Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”
Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”
“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.
Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.
Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”
“But—“
“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.
Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)
“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.
The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.
“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.
“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.
“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”
Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.
The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.
“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.
“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.
“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”
“I—“
“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.
The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.
“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.
“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.
The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.
“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”
McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.
“This is getting juicy!”
“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“
“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.
Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”
“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.
The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.
He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.
“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”
By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.
“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.
In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.
The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.
“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”
Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”
Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.
The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.
“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”
“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.
“CHRI—“
In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.
“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.
“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.
“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.
“I concur.” You grinned back.
The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.
“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”
“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.
You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.
The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.
Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.
The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.
“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.
“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.
The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.
“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”
“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.
“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.
“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.
“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.
“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.
There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰
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fangswbenefits · 11 months
Text
Discovery
Summary: Miguel tries to fix the damage of his obsession for you, only to discover a secret you’ve been keeping that will change everything…
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 3k
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Inexperienced/In*ocent/V*rgin reader. Mast*rbation. Voye*rism (have to thank this anon).
Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous Part
Miguel O’Hara took pride in being able to keep his emotions at check.
For the most part, at least.
But when it came to you, he constantly found his reason at war with his feelings.
The way you were eyeing him expectantly, made his stomach flip.
“Is there something wrong?”
Many things.
For once, he didn’t want to lie to you. However, he dreaded what might happen in case he told you the truth.
Shaking his head, he took your pad in his hands, and glanced over at his watch.
100%
He wanted to just open the file and finally know who this Tom individual was, but he could see a faint frown settle on your face.
“Why can’t I have access to the settings?” you asked, coming to stand by his side to glare at the lit up screen.
He really didn’t want to lie.
“I needed to adjust the prototype first, before giving you full access,” he managed to say.
Great, Miguel.
Your eyes moved to glare at him. “You could have informed me of that.”
He could only nod, he tapped and scrolled through the interface, overriding the block he had placed on it a couple of days ago.
You didn’t seem upset in the slightest. If anything, it you seemed… tired? Sleepy?
“It’s done,” Miguel said, handing the pad back to you. “The interference was probably a mic, by the way.”
As you fought back a yawn, your face twisted into confusion. “A mic?”
Miguel was trying to play it casually, hoping that it would be enough to deflect this issue altogether.
But you… you were not easily detracted.
“Why is there a mic in my suit?”
His heart rate had nearly doubled, and he felt his sweat grow cold as your gaze intensified.
Then, he saw you straighten up as if hit by a sudden realisation.
“You… don’t trust me?” your voice was but a whisper and you started backing away from him. “You’re spying on me?”
Somehow, the conclusion you had drawn was almost as appalling as the truth.
“No! That is not why.”
“Then why?”
Miguel pressed his lips together, and you took his silence as an answer.
“Oh… you really don’t trust me, do you?” you went on, tears welling in your eyes. “I mean… Jessica did tell me you were against me joining Spider Society… I just… thought she wasn’t being serious…”
Miguel stepped closer, feeling a surge of indignation. “That was before I realised your potential!”
You blinked your tears away angrily. “You’re not even denying it.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “I had my doubts at first, yes. Your inexperience, for example. But Jess quickly convinced me to take you in,” he continued, knowing that he sounded desperate at this point. “You are a very talented spider, and I realised that nearly right away.”
Then your eyes widened all of a sudden as if you had just realised something daunting.
Miguel felt his stomach flip, already anticipating more something much worse.
“Oh… oh… you — you sent Jessica to my dimension because of Tom…” you said, visibly shaken. “He’s subject A. You… you… woah!”
Miguel felt control slip through his fingers with each accusation you threw at him.
There was no point denying it, and he didn’t want to lie to you. If anything, he only sought to do damage control.
But your usual calm and sweet demeanor had long vanished.
“Who do you think Tom is?” you said between gritted teeth, clenching your fists at your sides. “Some… some secret weapon against Spider Society? Is that it?”
It was evident from your reaction that he clearly wasn’t that.
“Listen, I d-”
But you immediately cut him off, tears streaking down your face. “You want to know who he really is? Do you?”
In truth, he did. However, not at the expense of your emotional stability. Not like this. Everything was going sideways and he felt petrified.
“You don’t have to.”
“I’ll tell you!” you spat, hurt swelling in your voice. “Three days after I got bitten by that spider, I was struggling to get the hang of all the changes.” You began pacing nervously around the room, no longer looking at him. “I was heading toward a robbery site and… Tom was there… the criminals had dynamite and were threatening to blow up the building,” your voice cracked momentarily and you took a deep breath before continuing. “In an effort to get him out of there, I shot my web at his chest, but lost control and balance, and sent him flying across the street as the explosives went off…”
Miguel could only stare from a distance, feeling the frustration in your words.
You halted and glared at him, lips quivering and more tears spilling. “Tom broke his arm and suffered a serious concussion. Because of me.”
He opened his mouth to offer words of comfort, but decided not to interrupt.
“I grew up with Tom. He is — was my best friend,” you sniffled, lowering you gaze. “I even had feelings for him at one point, which was ridiculous… he was too good for me, anyway.”
Miguel took a few steps in your direction, wanting to convince you otherwise, but you immediately retreated away from him.
“Thankfully, he managed to fully recover. No one found out it had been me who caused it in the first place… everyone just assumed it happened because of the explosion…” you mumbled, before crossing your arms and hugging yourself, showing him you had done this multiple times before in search for comfort. “And I was a coward… I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth… so I removed myself from his life.”
A tense silence followed.
Nothing could have prepared Miguel for this revelation, and he couldn’t help but to feel a wave of sympathy for you wash down on him.
You then eyed him. “I don’t want your pity. I deserve this. I was never a decent spider-woman and-”
He quickly stopped you. “That is absolutely not true and you are not a coward.”
“Oh, but I am. When Jessica approached me with the offer to join you, I didn’t even think twice,” you confessed. “I’d do anything to spend as much time away from my dimension as possible.”
“You still perform your duties, as far as I know,” he pointed out rationally.
You let out a pained groan. “Because I have to! I’d much rather stay in the lab, piecing things together and be useful in other ways.”
“You could have told me.”
This time, you frowned and Miguel realised such expression didn’t suit you. At all.
“I didn’t want to. I didn’t have to. This is something I’m ashamed of.” You then pointed at his watch. “Your file won’t tell you any of this, and I really wish you hadn’t gotten involved, because this was my story to tell.”
Your words pierced through him like sharp knives, and he realised he had not only gone too far, but had also managed to hurt you in the process.
“If there is anyone here who understands what you are going through, it’s me,” he began carefully. “I know how it feels to want to do the right thing, only for the consequences to be disastrous.”
He watched your face soften ever so slightly, and you didn’t flinch away from him when he came to stand right in front of you.
“I’m really sorry that I overstepped the line,” he said softly. “I really care about you. That is the reason why I had the mic in your suit and why Jessica went looking for Tom.”
A half-truth, he figured. He couldn’t flat out say the actual reason. How would he even explain that he was obsessed with you? How could that justify any of this?
Simply put, it couldn’t.
And you would resent him.
So, he settled for a half-truth. He did care about you. Immensely. More than he could possibly reason with. But he just couldn’t have you know how much he wanted you to be with him to the point of extreme obsession.
Especially not after discovering this secret of yours.
He had to win you over.
“There is no one who can understand how hou feel better than me,” he whispered, cradling your face in his hands, tilting it enough to have your eyes meet his.
“But… you’re the Miguel O’Hara… you’re so… ” your voiced trailed off.
“Spider Society exists because of my mistake. Many people died at my hands, even if it was unintentional,” said with a sigh. “That is a burden I’ll carry forever with me. What you see here came at a price.”
You swallowed.
“But you don’t have to go through this.”
“How so?”
He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. “You get a chance set things straight. Tom is still alive. I don’t get to have that.”
He would never have Gabriella back. Ever. That was the ultimate price he had to pay.
Your gaze dropped and he saw a couple of tears streaming down your face. “It’s not that simple.”
“It’s not, but it’s still an open door. A choice you have.”
He felt your hands grip his wrists for support, as silence took over you.
“I just wish you’d told me,” he whispered, closing his eyes and planting a kiss to your forehead. “I would have been here for you sooner.”
The effect of his words coupled with the gesture were enough to have you break into a sob, tears streaming down your cheeks, as Miguel held your face with both hands.
This was painful to witness.
He knew all too well how it felt to feel powerless and thinking that you’ve run out of options.
He knew you now. He understood you. Better than anyone ever could.
“I’m… s-sorry…” you mumbled, trying to keep yourself from crying. “You’re… getting all w-wet…”
Miguel couldn’t help but to smile endearingly at your concern, as your tears began to roll down his hands.
“Do not apologise,” he said firmly. “You can cry. I’m here for you.”
Nodding, you opened your eyes again and tilted your had back to stare at him.
“Please s-stay…” you said in between sobs, your hands gripping him tightly. “Please…”
You were killing him.
Little by little.
Miguel would give you everything.
He nodded and you stepped back and let go of him, running the back of your hands across your cheeks to dry them.
Then you went to sit on your couch, removing the clutter of wires and boxes that were in the way.
Miguel spotted a blanket nearby and came to sit by your side, draping it over your shoulders.
You leaned against the backrest, and he followed suit, feeling your head drop to his shoulder.
“Please remove the mic… and delete that file…” you mumbled.
“I will.”
He swung his arm across your from you, to pull you closer to him.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, and Miguel closed his eyes, relieved that he had managed to somehow control the damage he had caused. Unfortunately, it had come at the expense of you having to open up to him, and he felt guilty for that…
He knew he had to prove himself to you, and was grateful that you hadn’t chosen to shut him out completely.
“Somehow… this was sort of cathartic?” your voice was suddenly heard.
Miguel squeezed your arm tenderly.
“I had… never told this to anyone…”
Guilt hit him at once. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be… I think I needed to let it out,” you mused against him.
He couldn’t help but to feel an intense wave of compassion for you. There was no way around it: Miguel was in too deep when it came to you. Everything about you pulled him in and gripped him.
You would always be his sweet girl.
His devotion was yours.
Just yours.
“Hey, Miguel?”
He felt you shift beside him and he looked down to meet your sleepy eyes. “Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Your words didn’t register at first, and he thought he had misheard you.
“What?”
You slipped your feet under you, before leaning slowly into him, face drawing near. “Can I kiss you?”
Denial hit him. “You’re just sleepy.”
But you didn’t back down. “No… I just…” your eyes darted down. “Can I?”
His heart went into a frenzy and he was left speechless. Your eyes were set on his lips and he somehow found the strength to nod.
It took you a couple of seconds to adjust yourself, and once you did, you closed the the gap, parting your lips slightly.
Miguel was left perplexed.
Weeks of yearning and obsession were finally being vindicated.
“Pretty eyes,” you whispered, breath fanning his lips. “So pretty…”
Your noses brushed together and he fought the urge to pull you into his lap at once.
“You’re the pretty one…” he said truthfully.
A smile curved your lips even through your sleepiness. “I’m going to kiss you now, Miguel O’Hara…”
And you did.
The moment your lips met his, Miguel felt his body react. It didn’t take long for the blood to rush down to his cock, slowly stirring it.
He could taste the inexperience on your lips as you kept breaking the kiss to gasp for air. It was blatantly obvious you needed some help figuring out what do next, so he happily obliged.
With one hand he managed to shift your leg to swing across his, and with the other he propped you onto his lap.
You broke the kiss, adjusting yourself and lacing your arms behind his neck and taking his lips again.
This time, he pressed his thumb to your chin, parting your lips, so he could deepen the kiss with his tongue. You immediately complied, and allowed him in with a soft whimper.
Miguel finally tasted you.
His sweet girl.
You came down to press your crotch against his painfully hard cock, and he immediately had to still your hips and lift you slightly.
You broke the kiss again, confusion in your eyes. “What…”
He didn’t dare confess it to you.
Instead, he pressed on your lower back so you would lean into him again with a kiss.
He wanted to taste you, but he couldn’t have you sit on his cock like that… he would absolutely burst.
His sweet girl sounded so sweet and receptive…
He felt you trying to defy his hold on your hips, surely wanting that friction, but he couldn’t afford that.
As much as he wanted to feel you grinding on him, he would be too embarrassed to cum so soon, and that thought was what ultimately prevented him from reaching the point of no return.
He brought one hand to grip your wrist, allowing the top half of his digital suit to disintegrate, so he could place the palm of your hand on his chest, revelling in your heated skin against his.
Suddenly, you parted from him with a gasp. “Wait… I’m…”
He arched an eyebrow in confusion and watched as you snaked your arm in between you two, sliding your hand down your sweatpants.
Miguel’s eyes widened and he was about to lose it until he realised what was really happening.
You slowly removed your hand and glared at it. “Oh.”
Your fingers were drenched in your wetness.
You were soaked.
For him.
He carefully looped his fingers around your wrist, wanting to taste you, but that sent you into an immediate frenzy, and you fumbled to get up from his lap, nearly falling back if not for his incredible reflexes.
“Easy…” he cooed, caressing his thumb along your pulse point. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.”
You tumbled to the side and he let go of you, watching you sit back against the cushioned backrest and looking startled like a deer in headlights.
Just how inexperienced were you?
“Thanks…” you mumbled, chest heaving erratically. “I’m… yeah… and sorry…”
Miguel sat up straighter and arched a brow. “You don’t have to apologise.”
You nodded, your eyes falling to his bulge. “I mean… for that…”
Only you would ever apologise for giving him a raging boner.
His sweet girl…
“Don’t worry,” he reassured, feeling his heartbeat slow down. “Are you okay?”
“Yes…”
He offered a warm smile. “Good.”
Miguel didn’t even know where to begin. He couldn’t quite grasp the events of tonight, and it almost felt like a fever dream.
He was so used to getting hard from just the thought of you, that he couldn’t believe he was now hard because of you.
Still, the way you had reacted when you realised how wet you were for him led him to believe that maybe you were far more inexperienced than he had anticipated.
And he would respectfully give you all the time and space.
He would wait for you to ask him for more.
He could wait. His throbbing cock not so much, but he had other ways of dealing with that.
“Can I use your bathroom?” he asked, adjusting himself over his suit.
Your eyes widened. “Oh…”
“Just to ease some of the tension,” he immediately said.
He was desperate to let his cock spring free, and let it calm down until he was back at his apartment.
You then averted your gaze. “Can you… do it here?”
Miguel was utterly and completely taken aback.
“I… I have never…” you went on, quickly pulling your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, and covering your face. “Nevermind…”
Oh.
Now it all made sense.
“Hey… look at me,” Miguel started, reaching out to tug at your wrist. “It’s okay.”
Slowly, you lifted your head to peer at him with evident hesitation. “Is it too… weird?”
“Not at all.”
And he meant it. By this point, he could feel his cock twitching more often, as more and more precum began to drip from the tip.
“Are you sure?” he asked, needing the absolute confirmation.
You promptly nodded, resting your chin on your forearm, eyeing him intensely.
He paused for a moment, expecting to be jolted away from this dream, or to have you backtrack.
“Please…” you whispered.
Swallowing hard, he allowed himself to sink into the backrest, before having the lower half of his suit disintegrating, and his cock finally released from its confinements.
Your eyes widened and your lips parted.
An instant ego boost that caused him to hiss as he wrapped his fingers around it. His body was so ready for you. Almost too ready. It didn’t take long before Migue felt droplets of precum sliding down his hips.
He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and it only added to the pleasure he felt.
Giving himself a few tentative pumps, he watched closely as you glared at the motion, curiosity splattered all over your face.
The first moans escaped his lips and he nearly slid his eyes shut, trying to stop himself from cumming too quickly.
But he didn’t want to miss out on anything you had to offer.
Miguel soon found a steady rhythm and began to fuck his hands like so many times before. But unlike those other times, he had you as an audience and he knew he wouldn’t last long no matter how hard he tried to muster images of the Vulture to dwindle his impending orgasm.
Then, you shifted closer, your legs dropping, but still pressed together.
He groaned, knowing exactly why you were being so fidgety.
Your hand was clutching at the hem of your shirt as a way to anchor yourself from the visual stimulation.
“You can touch yourself…” Miguel rasped, tightening the grip around himself, precum now flowing down his knuckles.
You pressed your legs tighter together and Miguel had to halt his motion or he would burst.
“…. or not,” he added, not wanting to overstep your line of comfort.
Your eyes darted to his face momentarily and, for the second time, Miguel saw your hand disappear inside your pants. You gasped softly and he could only guess that you must have reached your clit.
You let out the sweetest whimper, and Miguel’s cock twitched immediately.
His chest heaved and he swiped his thumb across the tip of his cock, letting out a groan.
He watched in awe as your arm moved rhythmically, and your eyes fluttered shut.
“Look at me…” he breathed.
You were biting yout lip, but did what he asked.
The urge to replace you hand with his — better yet, his cock — was almost painful and he knew he was heading towards the precipice, having to space out his strokes.
Your gaze fell to his hand. “How’s it so hard?”
He would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire and him being in need of release.
You scooted closer and closer, until your face was mere inches away, while still touching yourself.
For him.
Because of him.
“Why do you think?”
You gasped and he saw your hand slid out of your pants, fingers glistening with your wetness.
“Can… I?”
Miguel was too far gone to deny you of a newfound experience, so he nodded, bracing himself for what was about to happen.
He would burst.
You chewed on your lower lip as if unsure of what to do next, but he wanted you to take your time. A few moments later, you reached down with your soaked hand and he lets go of his cock, welcoming your touch.
He threw his head back and had to muster all of his willpower not to cum right away, as the pads of your fingers tentatively traced the underside of his cock, slowly moving to graze the veins that bulged from under the sensitive skin.
Everything inside him was suddenly burning like wildfire and he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking up.
By the time your thumb reached his tip and grazed slowly, Miguel hissed violently.
“Stop… stop - stop… please-” he begged, but was already being overtaken by the suffocating grip of a powerful orgasm.
You had indeed stopped touching him, but the damage had already been done.
His cock twitched rhythmically as hot spurts of cum began to cover his abs. Witch each roll of his hip, Miguel felt his vision blur and his fangs extend. He groaned your name a couple of times, before his words started to fuse together in a incoherent mess.
The stiffness of his peak shattered after a while and he slumped into the couch, struggling to even out his breathing.
Once he was finally able to open his eyes again, you came into his field of vision, holding a towel in your hands.
“Here,” you said as a smile broke across your face, before sitting by his side and offering it to him.
Even through the haze of an orgasm, Miguel was ablet o feel his heart skip a beat from your tenderness.
He proceeded to clean himself, wiping away the impressive amount of cum that had pooled on his lower abdomen.
“That was…”
His eyes were immediately on you. “Do you want me to…” he trailed off, allowing the not so subtle implication to dangle.
You didn’t catch it at first, but his silent was very telling.
“Oh, no — no, I’m fine, thanks,” you said with a chuckle.
“It’s only fair that I return the favor…”
You shook your head more vehemently this time. “It wasn’t a favor to begin with, Miguel. I was curious and… just wanted to watch you do it,” you mumbled as his digital suit began to cover his body again. “I had never… yeah — I’m still…”
Miguel had his suspicions that you were inexperienced, but he had no ultimate proof of that.
But this… “You’ve never had sex before?”
You settled back on the couch, crossing your legs. “No.”
He wasn’t sure of what to say. Was there even anything he should say?
So, he fell silent, waiting for you to take the lead.
“But… this was an interesting experience,” you eventually went on with a smile. “Do you… regret it?”
“No.”
But he could see doubt already settling on your face. “Maybe it was too much.”
“Not for me,” he said truthfully, straightening up in his seat. “Don’t think that, please.”
You nodded, but Miguel felt a pang of dread spread across his body. The last thing he wanted was for you to regret having opened up to him.
He had been longing for this for far too long to let it all be for nothing.
You were his sweet girl and you had his heart.
“Listen,” he started, set on preventing that from happening. “I can only speak for myself, but that was extremely hot. You are so, so attractive,” he went on, earning a doubting glare from you. “You are. I usually last longer than that.”
Your lips curled into an embarrassed smile, but Miguel could feel his words weren’t exactly reaching you.
Then silence took over.
You kept staring at your hands, head down and humming softly.
“Are you okay?” he shifted closer.
You took a deep breath. “I was thinking about your words earlier…”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
He watched you closely. “And what are you thinking?”
“I think you’re right, Miguel,” you drawled out, your voice but a whisper. “I’ve been blaming myself for what happened to Tom for too long.”
A jab of compassion and empathy tugged at his heartstrings. “You’re absolutely right.”
Then, lifting your head, you met his eyes. “I think… I want to meet up with Tom again. Thank you for making me realise that, Miguel,” you finished with a sweet smile.
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Part 6
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Masterlist
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hopelessromantic5 · 4 months
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King Arthur happens to be traveling through Ealdor the exact day the citizens decide they’ve had enough of Merlin.
Labeling him too dangerous, they tied him up on the pyre in the center of town.
As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.
He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.
The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.
No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.
He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.
He’d resigned himself to an early death.
Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”
Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.
In the distance, he could hear a sound.
The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.
Visitors were approaching.
It must be fate, he thinks.
As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.
Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.
“What is the meaning of this?”
A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.
“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.
Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.
“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.
“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“
“What has he done?”
“Sire?”
“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.
“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.
Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.
“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.
“So this man-“
“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.
“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”
Again no answer.
The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.
The doomed boy nearly gasped.
Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.
The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.
Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.
“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.
Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.
“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“
“I am not my father. Cut him down.”
Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.
What a prince he was.
Well, King, now.
No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.
“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.
Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.
The sound of salvation.
Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.
“I said, cut him down.”
The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.
Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.
Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.
Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.
He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.
As was-
“What is your name?”
It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.
He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.
“Merlin.”
The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.
“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”
Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.
King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.
“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”
Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.
The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said
“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.
Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.
Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.
Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.
Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.
“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.
“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.
“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”
Merlin sighed into her shoulder.
“Alright.”
When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.
Merlin was starting to warm to him already.
“Can I pack first?”
King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.
“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”
“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.
If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.
And perhaps, one knowing mother.
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mina-saiyat · 1 month
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Mommy's little boy Part 2 (Tzuyu)
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A/N: It's real mum this time, stay away if you can't accept Incest.
My body has recently entered puberty, my hormones are surging, and I have strong sexual urges every day. As the only woman in the family, My mum, Tzuyu naturally became the object of my desire. Although our mother-son relationship is close, I still feel a little embarrassed to ask my mother to take care of my physical needs.
But every time I have an erection, Tzuyu will still considerately help me solve the problem. She would gently hold my penis with her soft hands and move it up and down slowly and rhythmically until I ejaculated on her hand. Tzuyu's technique is very skillful and she can give me the ultimate pleasure every time.
"Mom, I'm hard again..." I called softly in the room. Soon, the door opened and Tzuyu walked in with a glass of hot milk.
She sat next to me gently, stretched out her little hand and groped in my crotch for a while, and found the erect bulge without any error. I immediately felt a numbing current spread from my lower body to my whole body, and I almost screamed with pleasure.
"It's so good, Mom, you really know how to play..." I moaned, enjoying the pleasure brought by Tzuyu's nimble fingers.
A shy blush appeared on Tzuyu's face, but she still served me wholeheartedly. Soon, I sprayed a large stream of thick white turbidity into her delicate palm, letting out a low growl of satisfaction.
Tzuyu took out a few tissues to wipe the liquid on her hands, with a doting smile on her face: "If you need it in the future, remember to tell mom~"
Since I got Tzuyu's "help", I have become more and more eager for her body, and the frequency of erections is as high as several times a day. Although Tzuyu was initially worried about whether my body could handle it, she could not refuse my requests.
Gradually, Tzuyu completely let go of her bottom line at my request. At first she would serve me in her underwear, but soon she couldn't resist my begging. She stripped naked and knelt in front of me, using her naked breasts and thighs to rub me to orgasm one after another.
Tzuyu's soft skin slid across my crotch, arousing waves of pleasure. I couldn't help but knead her round and erect nipples. Tzuyu groaned, but she focused more on swallowing my cock. Soon I reached climax with a long cry, and poured all the white fluid into Tzuyu's little mouth.
"Mom, you are so powerful...I will not be willing to cum until I cum in your mouth..." I gasped, watching the way Tzuyu's throat squirmed.
Tzuyu wiped away the spilled residue from the corner of her mouth and gently stroked my chest: "Good boy, of course mommy will give you the best things~ Just tell me where you want to ejaculate in the future."
"Hmm... I want to cum underneath you..." I couldn't help but fantasize, looking at Tzuyu's pink petals glowing with water, just waiting for me to come.
Tzuyu was shocked after hearing this, and then blushed: "How is this possible! We are mother and son..."
"But mom, you can even let me penetrate your mouth..." I said aggrievedly, and inserted my fingers into Tzuyu's vagina, feeling the moisture and tightness inside.
Tzuyu bit her lip, obviously there was a war in her heart.
Tzuyu was silent for a moment, and finally made up her mind: "Baby, I know you are in full swing right now, but I really can't accept letting you go in there... That's mommy's final bottom line."
I was eclipsed, but Tzuyu immediately added: "But apart from there, mom can let you play anywhere else... just like now..."
After saying that, Tzuyu moved her body and opened her two plump thighs in an M shape, with the pink petals clearly visible. My eyes lit up, and I immediately leaned down and hugged Tzuyu's thigh and started sucking hard.
Tzuyu screamed, her slender fingers embedded deeply into the sheets, letting me use the tip of my tongue to wreak havoc on her sensitive clitoris. Soon, the sparkling love juice flowed out from Tzuyu's lower body and wet my lips and tongue.
"Ahhh... good son... you lick mommy so well... go a little deeper... yes... right there..." Tzuyu kept moaning, my lips and tongue were in her private parts Lingering, bringing wave after wave of climax.
When Tzuyu's screams gradually subsided, I raised my head and saw that Tzuyu's pussy was already covered in mud. I eagerly held my cock and pressed it between Tzuyu's thighs.
Tzuyu seemed to understand my intention and hurriedly stopped me: "Wait...you can’t put it in!"
"Don't worry, I'll only fuck your thighs." I replied with a smirk, then straightened my waist and pushed my penis deep into Tzuyu's soft thigh flesh.
"Oh——" I gasped, this feeling was more refreshing than I imagined. Tzuyu's thighs are white and tender, with a delicate and smooth skin surface, but the inner muscles are elastic, wrapping my body tightly. With every thrust, Tzuyu would moan softly, the sound that sounded like pain but not painful was sultry.
"Baby...slow down...mom's leg is going to be broken..." Tzuyu begged, but I didn't care, and speeded up my movements, only focusing on my own pleasure.
Seeing that the she could not stop me, Tzuyu simply gave up resistance and concentrated on clamping the roots of her thighs. I immediately felt an unprecedented sense of oppression. Tzuyu 's thigh flesh was like a living thing, tightly wrapping my penis in it. With every thrust, I screamed out in pleasure and almost burst out between Tzuyu's thighs.
At the same time, my glans was rubbing against Tzuyu's labia again and again. The two petals were already wet with my semen, and now they were like two thick flesh lips adsorbed on my front, making me even more excited.
"Ah - Mom, you are really good at playing..." I yelled in a daze, while Tzuyu was trembling with my impact. More honey flowed out of her vagina and wetted our intercourse parts.
The feeling of being wrapped in her clit made me crazy. I grabbed Tzuyu's ankles and pulled her legs further apart. Tzuyu understood, she let out a sweet cry and clamped her thighs tightly, trapping my whole body inside. All my weight was focusing on the clone. I was so happy that I raised my head and let out a long sigh.
Tzuyu's thighs were like a tight paradise, tightly wrapping my penis, and every inch of the texture was rubbing against the most sensitive parts. The position of my glans was just stuck between Tzuyu's slightly open petals. Every time I straightened my waist, it rubbed against her most private entrance.
"Mom, you are really good at playing... If you keep going like this, I will cum all over your legs..." I tried my best to hold myself up so as not to be squeezed too tightly by Tzuyu's thighs and cause me to climax directly.
But Tzuyu smiled proudly as if she had been praised: "Isn't that exactly what you want? Good boy, keep fucking mom's thighs..."
After saying that, Tzuyu tightened her thighs again, and my penis was trapped in them and there was no way to escape. Tzuyu's petals kept squeezing my glans, and my tips soon secreted precum, which mixed with Tzuyu's honey, making our intercourse smoother.
"Oh - I'm going to die... Mom, your clit sucks me so much... deeper... I want to fuck them all in..." I thrust wildly, attacking again and again. The whole tips was swallowed by Tzuyu 's clit.
Tzuyu also followed my movements and swung her waist, cooperating with me to fuck her thighs. Her juice flowed non-stop, soaking the sheets.
I was so stimulated by Tzuyu's soft thighs that I lost my mind. I raised my waist and pushed deeper again and again. My glans kept rubbing against Tzuyu's clitoris and sex center, eliciting sweet moans from her.
Tzuyu's thighs seemed to have a life of their own, tightly clinging to my body. Whenever I pulled out, Tzuyu would relax a little, and then she would tighten when I thrust in. The contrast brought me so much pleasure that I was soon on the verge of ejaculation.
"Mom... I'm about to cum... loosen up a little..." I gasped and begged for mercy, but Tzuyu smiled coquettishly and squeezed her thighs tighter: "Cum... cum all over Mom. On the legs..."
I fucked Tzuyu's thighs like crazy. Every time my glans connected with Tzuyu's petals, a deadly wave of pleasure swept through my body. I don't even need to actually penetrate Tzuyu's pussy, just relying on this position can give me supreme pleasure.
Tzuyu felt the cock between her thighs begin to twitch, and she immediately understood that I was about to cum. Instead of relaxing, she clamped her thighs tighter, vowing to squeeze me dry until every drop was left.
"Baby son... don't mommy's thighs feel so good... you are just a little bit close to being able to penetrate mommy's real hole... Do you want to try it?" Tzuyu teased me wildly, then such obscene language directly pushed me to bliss.
My sanity finally completely collapsed at this moment. I grabbed Tzuyu's buttocks and thrust hard. Every time I thrust in, My tips was fully swallowed by her clit. Tzuyu 's labia were stretched to the maximum by my penis, and the pink petals almost turned white under the rapid friction.
"Ah... I'm going to cum... Mom, you're so good at sucking... I'm going to... Oh - I'm going to cum... Mommy, I'm going to cum -" I stiffened and yelled At the climax, Tzuyu's thighs clamped down on me, and my penis exploded in her thighs. White hot water spurted out from the eyes, all of which ejaculated on Tzuyu's body.
"Mommy...I cum for you..." I was exhausted and fell on Tzuyu's body. Tzuyu felt my orgasm and tightened her grip even more, making my ejaculation last longer. She stroked my sweaty back, and at the same time teased me verbally: "Baby... you fuck me so much that I'm so satisfied... cum more... fill mommy's legs..."
These words directly hit my vitality. I was so happy that my whole body was shaking, and the amount of ejaculation was far greater than usual. Tzuyu 's thighs were soon covered with my semen, and some even seeped into her petals.
Tzuyu laughed and let me cum all over her thighs and belly. She wiped some of the white turbidity with her fingers and put it in her mouth, savoring my taste.
"Baby son, mommy drank your milk, it's so delicious~" Tzuyu said, looking at me with seductive eyes. My penis that had not yet faded became hard again under her sight. It seemed that there were more good shows to be performed tonight...
I looked at Tzuyu, her expression was both intoxicated and proud, as if everything that just happened was just a trivial game. A ridiculous idea came to my mind, so I raised my penis again and pressed it against Tzuyu's thigh.
Tzuyu's eyes widened in surprise, and I couldn't wait to start thrusting. The penis I had just ejaculated was still very sensitive, and Tzuyu's thighs were so beautiful, I was quickly aroused again.
"Baby...you still want to come?" Tzuyu was a little flattered, and then she smiled very charmingly: "Then mom will play with you to the end..."
Tzuyu tightened her thighs again, and we seemed to be in an endless obscene game.
I grabbed Tzuyu's waist and thrust hard, as if I wanted to crush her under my penis. Tzuyu was knocked forward and backward by my offensive, and her breasts kept shaking in front of her chest. Her clit was also crushed by me again and again, causing more honey to flow out.
"Ah...baby...you are too cruel...Mom can't bear it anymore..." Tzuyu gasped and grabbed my arms with both hands for support. However, her legs tightened tighter and tighter, as if she wanted to completely confine my penis between her legs.
My scalp was numb from the stimulation of Tzuyu's tight legs, and a trace of precum leaked out of my tips again. I knew I was on the verge of losing control and could only sprint harder to reach climax as quickly as possible.
"Mommy, I'm almost there... Your legs squeeze me so much..." I groaned, my waist twitched a few times for the last time, and then my penis twitched, and I ejaculated a thick white fluid.
Tzuyu felt my ejaculation and actually increased the strength of her legs, as if she wanted to squeeze out the last drop of my essence. I roared, reaching an unprecedented peak of bliss, and my whole body went limp, except for my clone, which was still as hard as iron and embedded between Tzuyu's legs.
We stayed in this position, Tzuyu gently stroking my hair with a doting smile on her lips. Her legs were already covered with my bodily fluids, and the white turbidity mixed with her own vaginal fluids formed an extremely lustful picture.
Tzuyu held my face and kissed my lips. The tip of her tongue slipped into my mouth and swam around like a little snake. "Good baby... Mom is very satisfied... Your performance is even better than before..." Tzuyu licked the saliva from the corner of my mouth, her tone full of doting.
I kissed Tzuyu back and wrapped my arms around her neck. My fingers searched her back and soon found her anus. I pressed it as if to be a prank, causing Tzuyu to exclaim.
"You bad boy! Don't touch there..." Tzuyu was ashamed and angry, but the next second she was blocked by another passionate kiss from me.
I grabbed Tzuyu's hips and turned her over to face me. Tzuyu lay down knowingly and opened her legs wide, revealing the petals inside that were red from my fucking. There was a hunger in her eyes, expecting me to take her again. She seems forget about she is not allowing me to enter her.
I held my penis and pressed it against Tzuyu's entrance. Under Tzuyu 's gaze, he slowly pushed in, feeling the tightness and moisture in her cavity. It’s the first time I entered my mum, and the heat and tight nearly get me cum instantly.
"Hmm...slow down...it's too thick..." Tzuyu bit her lip and moaned, looking at me with surrender written all over her eyes.
I leaned down and kissed Tzuyu, my penis going deeper into her body. It wasn't until I was completely submerged that I raised my head and saw that Tzuyu had closed her eyes in confusion.
"Baby... move..." Tzuyu invited enthusiastically. I couldn't bear it anymore and immediately started to play with her pussy aggressively.
My penis quickly shuttled in and out of Tzuyu 's honey hole, reaching the deepest point every time. Tzuyu 's whole body trembled due to my impact, and her heart kept secreting new nectar.
"Hmm... baby... go deeper... I'm going to be penetrated by you..." Tzuyu moaned wildly, hooking her legs around my waist and rocking her hips back and forth in line with my progress.
I was so aroused by Tzuyu's wild performance that I lost my mind and fucked her pussy even harder. Tzuyu 's body was warm and wet, tightly wrapping around my body. A large amount of clear mucus leaked from the place where our genitals met, soaking the sheets underneath her.
"Mom...you know how to suck...I'm going to cum..." I gasped and growled. After hearing this, Tzuyu accelerated her hips, and her pussy kept squirming, as if she wants to squeeze me dry.
"Then cum... cum all for mommy..." Tzuyu 's eyes were confused, and her lips were soaked with her own body fluids. I couldn't bear it anymore, so I suddenly increased my speed, and with one final hard blow, my penis was buried deeply inside Tzuyu, and at the same time, white turbidity surged out, completely filling her cervix.
Tzuyu felt my ejaculation, her whole body stiffened, and then she shuddered like a spasm. She screamed loudly, reaching the highest peak of lust. The two of us climbed to the top together, the aftermath of our climax lingering for a long time.
After the climax, I held Tzuyu in my arms and lay on the bed with her. Tzuyu 's fingers still stayed on my back garden, as if exploring some novel territory.
"Baby... you are such a genius... you bring mommy unexpected surprises every time..." Tzuyu whispered in my ear, and I felt a sense of pride well up after hearing it.
I kissed Tzuyu's neck and stretched my hands to her breasts. Soon, Tzuyu's nipples stood erect in the palm of my hand. My fingers twisted the two sensitive protrusions from time to time, causing Tzuyu to gasp softly.
"Baby... don't... Mom was about to die just now... Let mom take a rest now..." Tzuyu begged, but I knew she was not satisfied yet.
I turned over and pressed on Tzuyu, with my once more erect penis pressed against her entrance. Tzuyu was taken aback, but quickly faced me resignedly.
"Then let mommy see... what else my little boy is capable of..." Tzuyu smiled seductively. I couldn't hold it in any longer and penetrated her hard.
We started another round of passionate sex and fell asleep late at night.
Since that affair with Tzuyu at home, the erotic relationship between us has become increasingly widespread. Whenever my father was not at home, Tzuyu would always find various excuses to pull me to her room, and then she could not wait to unbutton my pants, and use her charming little mouth and hands to push me to the peak of bliss.
Even when my father was at home, Tzuyu would take the opportunity to tease me, such as secretly touching my inner thighs with her hands, or blowing and whispering in my ear to make me hard. Whenever this happens, I can't help but push Tzuyu down on the bed and cum everything for her.
Gradually, I found that my body was increasingly unable to bear Tzuyu's enthusiasm. I often felt pain in my back and lacked physical strength.
Tzuyu didn't seem to be aware of my physical troubles. Whenever she had a chance, she would grab me and ask me to help her reach climax. Several times I woke up in the middle of the night and found myself covered in Tzuyu's bodily fluids, and the sheets were in a mess.
But every time I face Tzuyu's temptation, I can't refuse her, because her body is the strongest aphrodisiac to me. A look from her could turn me on, a whisper from her could arouse my lust. I fell deeply into this twisted lust. I knew it was an immoral relationship, but I couldn't extricate myself, and I can give everything for her.
"Baby... Mommy wants you again... Come and help mommy vent her lust..." Tzuyu's voice was charming and sweet, and my penis instantly became engorged with blood and stood straight up.
"Mom...I've ejaculated several times today...my body just can't take it anymore..." I begged with a wry smile, but my hands began to caress Tzuyu's breasts involuntarily.
"Then let mom see how powerful my little baby is..." Tzuyu smiled and opened her legs, revealing her already wet private parts.
My reason completely collapsed at this moment, and only animal desires dominated all my actions. I rushed forward and got entangled with Tzuyu,
"Baby...come on...Mom is about to climax again..." Tzuyu twisted her waist, kneading her breasts with one hand, and thrusting into my backcourt with the other.
"Mom...wait a minute...I just cum..." I gasped and begged, but Tzuyu ignored my pleas and just urged me to penetrate her pussy again.
I could only reluctantly follow the instructions and enter Tzuyu's body again. The two of us are entangled together, as if there is only each other left in the world, and everything else has nothing to do with us.
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eraenaa · 22 days
Text
King of My Heart
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King Aemond Targaryen x Queen Reader
Synopsis: Marriage, miscarriage, and the monarchy… how would you and your husband fare to them all?
Warnings: Mature, Softer Aemond, Mentions of Miscarriage, Fluff, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proofread 
Word Count: 5,929
A/N: Final part (maybe) of But Daddy, I Love Him and Mine, but could be read as a standalone. Based on an anonymous request where they wanted "a scenario where the reader enters her period and fears Aemond will be disappointed that she's not pregnant yet but he comforts her and takes care of her" and a photo of a fan art sent by 1ssah-blog 
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War did not commence, but the heir to the seven kingdoms was altered. As the iron throne rejected your grandsire, Viserys the First, your mother, Rhaenyra, rejected the seat that was promised to her. A shocking turn of events that was an outrage to her loyal supporters and to her husband. Declining her right to the throne meant her heir, Jacaerys, will as well have no claim upon it. In consequence, the throne was given to her half-brother, Aegon, the squandering prince who had no wish for duty, ultimately abdicated the most powerful seat of the realm. Passing the responsibility to your husband, who took the opportunity eagerly.
You were not certain how to take this turn of events. Though you were eased as this not caused further strife and bloodshed upon your family, you did not know how to receive this great responsibility you were never prepared for. You were never readied to become queen. 
It was as if all the events, private or otherwise, were tidal waves hitting you one after the other, suffocating and whirling you around. Whatever reservations and dilemmas you had were hidden, for you did not want to dampen the happiness in your husband. He never uttered it, but you knew that deep inside, he greatly wished for the throne. And you believed that it would be entirely selfish of you to make known the doubts that presented themselves the day it was announced that Aemond would be the ruler of Westeros.  
“I have a surprise for you,” You hear him say, your mind regaining focus. You placed your gaze upon your King husband, who sat across from you. This was the first supper you had together in private after all the debacle for the throne had been settled. Yours and his new title have proven to take a great deal of both of your time that you started to scarcely have time to enjoy the private presence of one another. “What is it?” You asked, placing a small smile on your lips. “Once you finish your meal, I shall show you,” He replied, and you gave a nod. Once your plate was emptied, you frowned as your husband helped you to stand, placing a cloth on your eyes. “Aemond, what is this?” You questioned, feeling his cold hand take yours as he led you out of your chambers. “Like I’ve said, it is a surprise,” You hear his smirk through his words, and you silently and blindly followed him through the halls of the keep.
When he made you halt in your tracks, you felt the cloth around your eyes loosen. Aemond stood before you in the throne room, obstructing your view from the surprise he had commissioned. When he stepped to the side, your furrowed brows shot up, and your lips parted in surprise. The renowned iron throne that stood lone in the middle of the hall was now in the company of another. The king’s throne was now accompanied by the queen’s. “Is… is that for me?” You asked hesitantly. You hear Aemond let out a chuckle and guide you to step closer to the iron thrones. “Of course it is, you after all are my queen,” He hummed, enjoying the way you were still enveloped in surprise. 
You were silent as you gazed at the newly made seat, one specifically made for you. You could not believe that your husband would disregard decades of tradition and alter the most powerful and fearsome seat in the realm to make place for you. Aemond gazed at you as you still gazed at the seat. He knew his decision to add a seat for his queen would not be well received by the others; he could not find care. He could not stand as you were stood by the side during long trials and engagements. He felt uneasy as you stood far beyond his reach, your usual place next to him desecrated and sacrificed when he needed to sit on the throne. He often had the urge to just perch you on his lap during those long days of meetings, restless as he was constantly missing your touch, but he knew that would simply mortify you. 
“Come, sit on your rightful place, my queen,” Aemond said, pulling you towards the iron thrones. You bit your lip as he made you sit on the cold metal. Surprised that the swords did not prickle or offer you any discomfort. “How does it feel?” Aemond asked, taking his own seat, his hand finding yours and him intertwining them. “Odd,” You say truthfully. Aemond hummed as his thumb caressed your soft skin, “Best get used to it, my wife. This is your rightful place.” He said, and you were not entirely certain how to receive his words. A part of you was growing warm and familiar with this title, but a bigger part of you was still doubtful as to what it entails. 
Aemond frowned as he heard no reply come from you. He turned towards you and saw that your gaze was once again far off. “What is it? What’s bothering you,” He asked, leaning closer, his fingers guiding your head to face him. You show your head and place a tight smile on your lips, “Nothing,” You say, hoping he will be convinced, not wanting to worry him and add to his burden, for he already had to shoulder the burdens of the realm. “Do not lie; tell me, what is it?” Aemond asked, tone now serious. You shook your head again. “Truly, it is nothing. I was just thinking about the preparations for your coronation,” You say, “Our coronation,” Aemond corrected, and you nodded, “Yes, our coronation,” 
“Do not fret and tire yourself with the preparations, my light. Another could see to it, perhaps my mother or ma—“ You shook your head for what seemed the hundredth time that day. “No, this is my responsibility,” You say, and Aemond sighs. “You are overworking yourself. You think I have not noticed, but I have. You retire to bed later than I do, and you start your day earlier than I; you must not exhaust yourself,” Aemond fretted. “I am hardly exhausting myself— my responsibilities are nothing compared to yours,” You say, making Aemond sigh. “That is not the point,” he said, your concerned conversation toeing the line to an argument. 
“You are quite fragile, my light. The whole of your family— even with their contempt for me, they still warned and accustomed me to the fact of your sensitivity, at how easily you are exhausted and taken by sickness. I cannot have you be overworked and burdened by tasks that could be delegated to others,” Your heart warmed at the concern showed by your usually stoic husband. “I just want everything to be perfect for your day,” You say lowly. “Our day,” Aemond once again corrected, his mind now growing suspicious at the fact that you only recognized his change of title but not yours. “Yes, our day,” you once again repeated. 
When the two of you retired to your chambers once more, Aemond studied you with his keen eye. Only now did he realize that something had turned different; there was a shift in you that you had greatly disguised. Greatly so that only now did Aemond come to realize it. He tried to recall the whirlwind of events, from your mother rejecting the throne, then to his brother abdicating it, and finally, him being announced as the successor. He could not precisely point as to when, but as he recalled those days, he realized a spark in your eyes had dulled, and its sudden dullness was not the result of exhaustion or anything in regard to the succession of the crown. Something else was bothering you, and it seems to be of great magnitude, but you did not share it with your husband. 
Aemond clutched you closer to his chest, burying his nose in your hair as you slept in his arms. He could not find rest as his mind was running with the thought of what was bothering you and why you had not confided with him. What secrets were you hiding from him? Why had you suddenly felt the need to keep quiet of your thoughts? Aemond’s heart beat loudly in his chest even though he was simply lying down, his thoughts running with the uncertain and devouring his insides. He must know the truth of what it was you hid from him.
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You hastily ran through the halls of the keep, tardy for your meeting with the small council as you were preoccupied with your earlier engagements. You stood before the door of the room, hindering the guard from opening the doors as you tried to catch your breath, wanting to be composed as you entered the room. But you frowned as you heard the voices of men discussing you. 
“My king… it is just that it has been a year since your marriage, and the queen has yet to produce an heir,” You felt your heart pit as you heard the words of a lord. “The court is starting to question the… the matter, and tongues are wagging that perhaps the queen’s womb is unsuited to carry a child,” You swallowed thickly as you still stood by the doors, listening to their quiet discussion that spoke of your fears that were unknown to anyone but you. Aemond kept silent as he stared down the men before him, “My king, the lineage for the crown has been altered twice in less than a year; its stable foundation created by the conqueror had faltered. And with this talk of the queen unable to produce you a son… it would not take long before the other houses to question the stability of the Targaryen name, as well as her validity as queen.” You felt vile climb your throat as your heart, achingly pitted in your chest. You were supposed to attend the meeting, but after hearing what they had said, you could not find the strength to do so. 
Aemond clenched his jaw as the lords before him were threading the line of impertinence. “My wife, your queen, is still young. She is but eight and ten. Our heir shall come in due time; I will no longer hear of such speculating matters when there are other business we must attend to.” Aemond gritted, laying the subject to rest, but a foolishly bold lord still spoke. “Your majesty, your wife’s duty is to produce you heirs— to produce the next king of this realm. That must be her top priority, and as of now, the kingdom is witnessing her flail at this duty that a simple broodmare could do,” Aemond felt his eye twitch in great irritation, his insides alight with fiery rage at the words spoken against you. Aemond turned to Ser Criston Cole, who stood by his right and gave a knowing look, the knight stalking towards the lord who dared offend his queen. 
The knight took the lord’s arms and bound them behind him, “You have not only offended your queen but her husband as well; for such impertinence, you shall stay in the dungeons for a fortnight and your house stripped of its title and land,” Aemond relished at the lord’s protest and desperate pleas as he was dragged out of the room of the small councils and into the dungeons. “Let that be a lesson to you all— the moment I hear about such disrespectful speculations about my wife, I will not hesitate to administer such punishments,” Aemond warned and watched as the lords before him nervously nodded. 
When the meeting ended, Aemond questioned as to why you did not show. He returned to your chambers in search of you, and there he found you curled in your shared bed. Aemond silently walked towards you, his being wholly satisfied as you took his concern and decided to rest. But that satisfaction quickly disappeared as he saw your tear-stained cheeks and your slightly quivering lips as you slept. Who must answer for your sadness? What had led you to such a state? Why had you not run to Aemond for comfort just like the times before?
Aemond soothingly ran his hand through your hair, making you twitch and lead you to open your eyes. Your eyes widened as you realized Aemond had returned and caught you in such a state. “Why are you crying? What has bothered you?” Aemond asked, determined to know what plagued your mind that caused this unwelcome shift in your demeanor. Your lips agape to speak of a diversion, and Aemond already knew it. “Do not say that it is nothing when it is clearly a lie. Tell me the truth of it, wife.” He said sternly, but he quickly regretted it as tears quickly streamed from your eyes. “I failed,” You cried almost incoherently. Aemond’s eye widened as he made you sit up and took you into his arms, and you cried onto his chest. “W—what? You had not failed,” He tried to reassure you about a matter he was still to know of. 
“I have! And the kingdom is starting to take notice!” You wailed, and Aemond took your face into his hands, imploring you to look at him. “I have failed you as your wife… I am failing as queen,” You cried, and Aemond felt his heart twist painfully inches chest to see you in such a state and hear you utter such false words. “I do not understand, my light,” he said quietly as you sniffled and tried to control your sobs. You took in big gulps of air as you tried to form the words explaining the events that happened and were kept hushed during the debacle for the crown. 
“I was with child,” You say quietly, feeling the shock in Aemond as the words leave your lips. “During Aegon’s short reign, I learned that I was carrying our child. He was only a moon old, the maesters said, and I was waiting for an opportunity to share with you the news,” Aemond clutched you closer to him as he felt you tremble. “But the lineage was changed once more, and we both were busied to the point where the only time we saw each other was when we slept,” You say as tears continue to stream. “And when the day finally came that we were not too busied with our duties, where I could finally tell you that we were to become parents… I lost the babe,” You cried in shame and tried to turn away from Aemond, who sat before you in great shock. 
You readied yourself for his rage and contempt. You knew he would not take this matter lightly; you believed he would blame you for being so careless and for failing, which is why it was a shock to you as he once again pulled you to him, burying his face in your neck as he uttered apologies. “Why are you apologizing? I was the one who had failed you,” You asked. “Failed? My light, you could never,” Aemond said softly as he embraced you tightly. “I was the one who had failed you— I was too busied with the crown that I have neglected my duty to you,” Aemond said in guilt. You breathed out heavily and shook your head, running your hands through Aemond’s silvery locks soothingly. 
“Why did you not tell me?” Aemond asked after a short silence. You sighed and lowered your head, “I was ashamed.” You said plainly, “I could not burden you with this matter when you were already burdened by the troubles of the kingdom.” You explained further, hiding the matter because you knew if you uttered it, it would only prevail and actually become true. Aemond removed his face from the crook of your neck, “You should never hide such matters from me. The burdens you carry are the only burdens I truly care to know of and solve.” He said reassuringly, placing a kiss on your tear-stained cheek, tasting the salt that streamed from your eyes. “You’re not angry? Or at least disappointed? I…” You trailed as Aemond hushed you by kissing your lips. “Swear to me you will never hide such matters from me again; promise me that you will always come to me when anything— even the slightest of things bothers you,” Aemond implored and you bit your lip as you nodded your head. Aemond gave a curt nod to your agreement, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 
“But…” you spoke, “But what if I truly fail? What if I cannot provide you with an heir?” You fretted, knowing that your main royal duty was to provide your husband with a child. Aemond licked his lips at your question, pondering over a future where you two had no offspring. “Then the crown passes to our next of kin,” Aemond shrugged, and you were speechless by his nonchalant manner. “My light, I want for us to have children, I do. But I want you more. If we cannot produce an heir, then so be it; just as long as I have you, I’ll be perfectly and entirely content,” Aemond murmured, and your heart that loved him fell into a deeper love you never thought to be possible. “Do you truly mean that?” You asked, searching his eye. A part of you doubted his words, thinking it was only uttered to comfort you. “Of course I do,” He said genuinely. Though a part of him will always long for a child, to be a father that he never had, a greater part of him longed for you. He would rather have you constantly by his side, without the prospect of an heir, than have his line to the throne secured but without you. 
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You gazed up at your newly crowned king as he placed a tiara of rubies atop your head, a small smile grazing his face as he crowned you his queen. The eyes of the kingdom upon the two of you who were lost in each other eyes. The cheers that rang loudly died in your as you could only focus upon Aemond. It had been almost two moons since your admittance of what had transpired during the settlement of the crown, and since then, you and your husband had made it your mission to set aside time for each other, to not only focus on the demands of the realm but as well as your marriage. You placed a small smile as your husband guided you to take your seat on the throne next to him, the kingdom bowing and kneeling to show their fealty to their new king and queen. Yours and Aemond’s hands clasped around each other to show your solidarity for the kingdom as well as each other. 
“How are you finding the festivities, my king?” You asked with a small smile, your heart pounding happily in your chest. “You out did yourself in the preparations, my light… but as my name day celebration, I am counting down the hours until we are left in the privy of our chambers.” You bit your lip as your husband whispered the words in you ear, your cheeks blooming in heat. “Well, just as I have said on your name day, you must be patient and obliging to our guest, dearest husband,” You grinned, and Aemond felt content to see how the liveliness in you began to return. “Very well then, but I shall deny any lord that asks you for a dance,” You let out an amused breath and nodded your head, “Very well, who am I to go against the orders of my king,” You teased and moved to stand. 
“Where are you going?” Aemond asked, his gaze turning upward, his hand refusing to let go of your hand. “To greet my mother and siblings, I still have not spoken to them ever since their arrival,” You say simply; Aemond chewed on his cheek and nodded, reluctantly removing his hold of your hand, but his eye followed you as you gracefully made your way through the hall towards the nearby table that housed your kin. 
“My queen,” Your mother greeted with a teasing curtsy, and you bit your lip as a wide smile appeared on your lips. “No titles are needed; I am merely your daughter, mother,” You smiled and embraced her, “Where’s father?” You asked, and just as the words left your lips, you heard him clear his throat behind you, your eyes beaming in delight as he held your sister. The babe soundly sleeping on his shoulder, “Little Visenya,” You cooed. Your father placed a kiss on your temple that was adorned with your newly appointed tiara. Your heart warmed at how he still attended your coronation, even though the debacle of the crown had left him entirely enraged, and the kingdom had begun to speculate that he and your mother had separated; of course, all of those were just mere rumors. The birth of your sister only solidifies your parents’ union. 
“I placed them by the fireplace in your chambers, as you had requested,” Your father whispered to you in ancient tongue as he placed your sister in your arms, and you smiled at him with gratitude. “Thank you,” you say lowly and patted the back of your sister, who began to stir in your hold, giggling softly as she buried her face in your neck, her silver hair tickling your skin. You took a moment to catch up with your siblings, grateful to the gods that the change in succession did not alter your relationships with them, especially your bond with Jacaerys. You returned to your seat next to your husband, whose gaze had never left yours, your sister still in your arms and slowly waking, her violet eyes planted on Aemond as they peeled open, but Aemond’s lilac eye was entranced upon you, who presented him with such a sight that made his heart grow warm. 
“I believe she wants to go to her king,” You say as Visenya reaches for your husband, her little babbles reaching your ears as her eyes were completely entranced on Aemond. Your husband swallowed thickly as you placed Visenya in his arms, him tensing as your sister was placed in his hold. “She likes you… one of my siblings likes you!” You beamed as Visenya started to giggle in your husband’s hold. Aemond shifted his head as the babe in his arms tried to take hold of his eye patch. You laughed quietly and reached for Visenya’s arm that was reaching for Aemond’s eye patch and placed on kiss on her little hand that smelt of talc and milk. 
“She quite reminds me of you when we were children,” Aemond hummed, his gaze shifting between you and the babe. “Why? Because of her adorableness?” You hummed, brushing away the stray hair from Visenya’s face. “No, because she’s already covered in frills and precious gems. A spoiled little princess just like her sister was.” He said, noting the bracelet of gold and opal around her pudgy arm and the fine silk and lace of her clothes. You narrowed your eyes at your husband, flashing him with pretend annoyance that made him let out a laugh, catching the attention of your guests as he never displayed such glee so openly before. 
Just like always, with any feast attended, you and your husband were the first to retire for the night. Aemond sighed longingly as you placed a chaste kiss on his lips before you disappeared into the adjacent room to disrobe. “I have a surprise for you,” Aemond heard you utter as he, too, removed the armor he wore. “Really?” He asked in amusement, “Yes,” You answered and returned to the main chamber in just your shift. Aemond raised his brow as he followed you to where you stood behind the fire. The light illuminated behind you and caused him to see through your shift, his needs for you presenting themselves greatly. 
You turned to the fireplace and saw the box your father had left, bending down to take hold of it and present it to Aemond. “What is it?” Aemond asked as you stood before him with a rather large box in your hands. “You open gifts to find out what they contain, my prince. Has the late hour turned you simple?” You teased, watching as your husband rolled his eyes. He shook his head as he took off the cover of the box, a frown adorning his handsome face as he saw what you had presented him with. “Dragon eggs? What f—“ You giggled as Aemond’s face fell into shock, his mouth hanging wide in realization of what your surprise was. 
“You’re… are you…” Aemond could not form words properly as he was enveloped with surprise. “You’re with child…” he said in amazement as he regained his composure. “You’re with child; you’re carrying our child,” he said once more, eyes wide and delighted. “I am,” you confirmed with a wide smile. Aemond could only move to kiss you as his mind was still discombobulated with the most joyous news. “There are two eggs… why are there two eggs?” Aemond questioned as your lips parted, his eye flying downwards to the box you still held that he then took and set down on a nearby table. You bit your lip as Aemond ran his fingers through the scaled shell of the dragon egg. 
“I might be wrong… but I just feel as if  I am carrying two babes,” you say lowly, fearing Aemond would find your statement ridiculous. He did not; his smile only grew as he pulled you towards him and kissed you once more. “You’re carry my children,” Aemond stated fondly, joining you in your suspicion that two lives grow in you. “I am,” You confirmed once more and felt him lay his hand flat on your abdomen; you gazed down as your husband kneeled before you, laughing as he enthusiastically placed his ear on your stomach that will be soon swollen with your children. 
“Thank you, my light,” Aemond said tenderly against your abdomen. You cupped his cheek and bent down to kiss him. “I love you,” you said against his lips with a smile. “You will make the most wonderful father,” You added, and Aemond rose to his feet with a handsome smile on his lips, but that smile of glee turned to mischief, and your eyes widened as your husband placed his hands on your behind, squeezing the plump flesh. You melted in his arms as his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, your king leading you to your marital bed and laying you upon it gently as his lips kissed your neck. Aemond was conscious of not placing any of his weight upon you, but you missed the feel of his body against yours, pulling him closer to you, even going as far as wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him closer. 
“I will crush you and the babes,” Aemond laughed as you whined at the gap between your bodies. You grumbled as you tried to pull him closer to you, but he was insistent on not placing any of his weight upon your body, especially your abdomen. “Aemond,” You whined, wanting to feel him against you. Aemond shook his head with a wide smile on his lips, a devilish thought presenting itself. Aemond tried to move himself atop you, but you circled your arms around his neck and tried to keep him in place. Aemond let out a laugh once more and moved to carry you, him switching your positions, him the one to lay on the bed, and you were atop him. 
You stifled your moans as Aemond was underneath you, your core perfectly aligned with his throbbing length, and his hands cupped and played with your mounds. You let out a loud moan as Aemond pinched the buds of your breasts, smirking to himself as your heavenly moans echoed through the room. 
“Such a beauty you are, my queen,” Aemond hummed as the dim candlelight illuminated your face. You ground your hips against Aemond’s trousered length, desperate to feel pleasure. “Aemond… please,” You moaned as you still feel him place most of his attention on your tits. “Say what you want, my wife… tell me what you need, and you shall have it,” Aemond hummed as he thrust his hips upwards, watching as your lips turned into an ‘o’. “You, I want you. I need you, please, Aemond,” You said desperately, content as you felt Aemond hastily undo the laces of his trousers, feeling his length against your skin. 
You breathed heavily as you slowly sank down on his length, Aemond watching you with great awe. You looked down on your husband through hooded eyes, and you reached forward to take off his eye patch, wanting to see him fully. Aemond hissed in pleasure as the head of his cock brushed over the spot that made your head tilt back, your eyes roll in pleasure, and your moans turn louder. Aemond placed his hands at either side of your hips and felt your cunt clench around him painfully, a sensation he knew all too well and one that meant you reached your peak. “So quickly?” He breathed out in awe, your back arched as you try to regain your thoughts as you were quick to come undone by just sinking on Aemond’s cock. 
The thought you tried to take hold of slipped out of your mind once more as Aemond trusted in and out of you at a slow, tantalizing pace. His hold on your hips was tight and quite possibly bruising, but you preferred it that way. You loved it when your husband left his mark upon your body. “Aemond… faster, please, my love,” You pleaded, and Aemond was quick to oblige your request, slipping in and out of you at a faster pace that made you come undone quickly once more. Aemond continued to watch in awe as you bounced atop him. You leaned down and met your lips with Aemond as you feel his cock twitch inside you and his thrust growing sloppy. You caressed the risen skin of his scar as you kissed him and as he fucked you, only parting your lips as Aemond was taken by his release and moaned your name as he came undone. 
“I love it when you moan my name when you come,” You say with a grin and place small kisses on his neck and chest. Aemond hummed and tangled his fingers in your hair as you lay on his chest, him still inside you. “Do you wish to hear it again, little light?” Aemond hummed, making you let out a laugh before quickly nodding. 
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Aemond sighed in contentment as his gaze was planted downward. In his arms was your son, sleeping soundly as he clutched a dragon egg. Aemond gently ran his hands through the small head of your child, Prince Aemon Targaryen. He had his father’s hair and his mother’s eyes, a warm, almost golden brown that had the capability of entrancing Aemond. He placed a chaste kiss upon his son’s head as he walked through the keep, barely paying attention to his subjects who greeted and bowed before him as all his attentions were on your son who will soon celebrate his first name day. 
Aemond reached his intended place, the great hall where all were bussed with yet another celebration. “My light, I have warned you time and time again, you must rest,” Aemond chastised as his arm wrapped themselves around your waist. His palm resting upon your swollen belly for you were in the middle stages of your third pregnancy. “I am not tired. And besides, the celebrations are set for tomorrow, and the preparations are still halfway made!” You said frantic, looking around the barely dressed up hall. “Where are the twins?” You asked as you looked around for your children. 
You looked towards Aemond, and in the silence, you both hear quiet giggling to your right. You and your husband made quiet steps toward a long table and noted the giggles grew louder. Aemond handed to you your son, Aemon, as he bent down and lifted the cloth cover of the table to reveal the twins, your elder son, Daemion, who you named after your father, and your daughter Elaena, named after your husband’s sister. You smiled widely as their laughter rang loudly when Aemond scooped them in his arms and lifted them off the ground, peppering them with kisses, your husband no longer that conscious in showing his affection out in public ever since your first pregnancy four years ago. 
“Did you get my sister’s dragon egg, Father? Can I see it?” Elaena asked, peering at Aemond, her lavender eyes widening in plea, and you walked closer towards them and brushed away a lock of her hair that resembled yours from her face. “Of course, you can, my love,” Aemond said, and he turned your twins towards their younger brother, who clutched the egg whilst he slept. “The baby inside mother’s belly is not a girl! It is a boy!” Daemion then declared, his violet eyes in a furrow as he disagreed with his sister. “No! It is a girl! Mother told me herself! Right Mother?” Elaena turned to you for confirmation, and you watched as Daemion was on the verge of a fit. 
Aemond watched with great love in his eyes as the scene unfolded. “I believe what I said was I only feel that it is a girl. We will not be certain until the babe is born, my sweet,” You said and watched as Elaena puffed, “I want a sister!” She whined, crossing her arms and frowning. Aemond chuckled as your daughter was an exact copy of you in childhood. “And you shall have one. Even if the babe in your mother’s belly is a boy, we will shall not cease until we give you the sister you wish for.” Aemond spoke and kissed the cherubic cheek of his daughter, who was on the verge of tears, the little princess unaccustomed to not getting what she wanted. 
“And you accuse me of spoiling our children,” You shook your head with a laugh as Aemond set the twins down, who readily ran around the hall once more. You beamed at your husband and fixed the askew crown atop his head, his arms once again circling your frame, and his head moved to kiss your lips. “Do you truly believe it to be a girl?” Aemond whispered as you two parted, him readily believing your intuition about the child you carry because he had come to learn it was impeccable. “I do. And I’ve already had a name for her,” You said, and Aemond raised his brow. “Hm… and do tell me about this name you had not asked my thoughts upon,” He said, and you smiled widely. “Eraena.” You said, and your husband hummed, pondering over the name for a moment. “Is that truly the name you wish?” Aemond asked, and you nodded. “Then Eraena it is,” He agreed and kissed your lips, the great love and joy in his heart that was emptied just years before translated in his kiss. 
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Here's the fan art sent! (CTTO)
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dollfacefantasy · 6 months
Text
Restless Dreams
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream
word count: 3.6k
a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus
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“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.
“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”
You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.
It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted. 
Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.
“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.
“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”
“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.
A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.
“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser. 
He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.
“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.
“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”
“I better,” you grumble with a smile.
“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”
“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.
“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.
“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.
“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”
“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.
The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.
Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.
Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.
And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.
Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.
Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.
You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.
Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.
He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.
It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.
He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.
His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.
He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.
Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”
But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.
He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.
At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.
You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.
It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.
“Please.”
He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.
You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.
Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.
He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.
In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture. 
You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.
In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.
You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.
“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.
More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.
Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.
The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.
“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.
“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.
“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.
“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.
“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.
You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.
You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.
“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.
You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.
You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.
“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.
Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.
The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.
“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.
His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.
“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.
“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”
Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.
“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.
He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.
You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.
His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.
“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”
As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.
He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.
“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.
Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.
He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.
“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”
You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.
“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”
He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.
“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.
“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.
He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.
“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”
“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.
“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.
You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.
He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.
“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.
“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.
He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.
After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.
“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.
“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”
“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.
That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.
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ginnsbaker · 10 months
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Bulletproof
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Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist
Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Requested by anon:
could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."
Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.
--
“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her. 
Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.
“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”
Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”
You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.
“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”
Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.
Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”
He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”
Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.
“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.
Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”
Like you, he doesn’t need to say.
You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.
Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”
The room goes quiet. 
A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue. 
You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes. 
Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.
-
The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation. 
In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.
At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.
Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.
Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.
Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you. 
You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.
Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.
You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents. 
As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold. 
You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.
But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.
Perhaps it would be easier to leave.
-
It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:
Your healing ability.
On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.
Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.
As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.
Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.
But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.
“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act. 
Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.
You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger. 
You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.
The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.
You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.
Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”
“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”
Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.
Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.
Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”
“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”
Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.
That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.
The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.
You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name. 
And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.
It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.
“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.
Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”
The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.
“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”
“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”
Was that a compliment?
You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.
Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.
-
The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.
Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”
You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”
Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.
“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”
Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.
Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”
You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.
“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”
“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”
As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.
“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters. 
Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening. 
Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?
Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.
Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”
You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”
Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.
“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.
Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.
“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.
“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”
“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”
“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.
“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”
The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes. 
Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”
“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.
“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.
You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.
The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.
In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.
You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.
You've become more than just teammates.
You've become friends.
And maybe, just maybe, something more.
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kaibutsushidousha · 2 months
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Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024
Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.
My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?
Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.
Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.
Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.
Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.
Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.
Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.
Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.
Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.
No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.
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mellifiedprincess · 4 months
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REALLY SHORT BUT SAPPY SHIT! and boob talk for like 2 seconds.
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Opening the door to the house you share with the boys, you immediately take notice of the lack of noise that usually takes place.
You can’t say you’re not a little bit grateful, especially after working a 12 hour shift as a peds nurse. It was not a good day to say the least. All you wanted in that very moment was a hot shower and to be wrapped up in the arms of your ridiculously handsome boyfriend.
Closing the door to the garage, you walk over to Chris’s door and softly knock waiting to hear a response. “Yeah?” You peek your head in and see the boy at his desk, headset on and eyes focused on the monitor in front of him. “Oh, hey Y/N/N- Yeah, she just walked in.” Chris replies to you and then who you assume to be Matt through the headset. “Hey Chrissy, just checking in before I head upstairs. You okay?” This was part of your nightly routine. You couldn’t really remember when it started, but you always had to check on Chris and Nick before going to bed. Otherwise you couldn’t sleep.
“Yeah, I’m good. Matt’s yelling in my ear right now asking for you to hurry up. Kids acting like you just got back from war.” You let out a soft laugh at his remark. “I need to check on Nick, then I’ll be in there.” “Oh Nicks gone. He went to hang out with Larray and Arrington.”
“Alright. Well, try to get some sleep. You guys have that really important meeting tomorrow morning.”
“Oh shit! I totally forgot about that. Thanks.” You nod your head and you both say goodnight, before you turn and finally make your way to your bedroom.
When you open the door, your eyes find Matt’s already staring at you. He looks so…soft. Soft and warm and inviting. “Finally!” He huffs out. You can’t help but laugh at him as you walk over to where he sits at his desk. “I missed you so much today.” His voice is muffled by his face being smushed into your stomach, his arms tightly wrapped around you as if you were gonna leave him.
“I missed you too angel.” Your fingers push his hair away from his forehead, and you lean down to place a gentle kiss to his hairline. “I do need to shower though, and then I’m all yours.” A very audible whine leaves his mouth and he pulls you down into his lap, and immediately shoves his face into your neck.
“Can’t you shower in the morning? I wanna keep holding you.”
You’re convinced your heart just melted in your chest from how sweet your boyfriend is. “How about you come sit in the bathroom while I shower? You can tell me about your day.”
“Okay!” He jumps up at that and your eyes widen at the sudden movement. “Jeez Matty, warn me next time.”
“I’m just really excited to see your boobs.” That comment earns him a slap against his chest and an eye roll.
“You act like you don’t see them whenever you want, kid.” “I could have 24/7 visual of those things and it still wouldn’t be enough. Same thing with that pretty face of yours.”
You would never understand how he could be so sweet, yet disgusting at the same time.
You make it to the bathroom, and Matt places you back down on the floor before walking over to the shower to start the water for you. “I’ll be right back, baby.” He places a quick kiss to your lips and exits the bathroom.
When he returns, he’s holding a pair of fresh love sweatpants, clean underwear, and an old t-shirt of his that you stole and claimed as yours a long time ago. “Ughh I love you!” You can’t help but exclaim before pulling him closer to plant another quick kiss to his lips. “I love you way more though. No argument there.”
And Matt really believed that.
The love he felt for you was soul consuming. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.
“That’s not fair. I love you just as much as you love me! You’re the sun in my freaking sky Matthew.” You pout. Pout. And Matt can’t help but gush at how fucking cute you are.
He looks down at you, your arms wrapped around his waist, and he swears to himself that he would be the sun in your sky for the rest of your lives. And he knew what you meant by that, but being the sun in someone’s sky is nothing compared to being someone’s moon.
And you were his moon. Full of love and hope. The most nurturing person he knew, always taking care of others before yourself, especially him and his brothers. And you were always so calm, which helped a lot when he was on the verge of a panic attack.
“Okay, sweet girl. Let’s get you in the shower so we can go to bed. I know you’re probably exhausted.” He softly pats your hip, and moves so you can get undressed and finally shower.
Later that night when you finally retreat to bed, your head lies on Matt’s chest, sleep calling your name so softly you can barely keep your eyes open. Matt just watches you. He watches as your chest slowly rises and falls, and your breathing slows. He watches as you curl into his side even more. But he knew you weren’t quite asleep yet, because this man knew every minor detail about you.
So, when you reach for his hand and bring it to your lips before squeezing it against your chest, where it would stay for the rest of the night, he knew you were finally asleep.
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ew-selfish-art · 10 months
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Dp x Dc AU: Tim doesn’t rest, not even in Death.
It’s a heart attack that gets him, well, that and the insane amount of fear toxin flooding his system. He was dead for a full three minutes before he watches (how was he watching?) his eldest brother get his heart going again and get his unconscious body to the cave. Alfred gets him onto bat-life support and Leslie looks gravely at his family after she’s done her best to heal him. They decide to keep trying, they don’t want to believe he’s gone.
Tim watches in fury. He’s more useful than this, he’s not just going to die and let the family mourn him! Tim sets to work trying to understand what’s happened to him and he realizes he must be a ghost. Therefore, if he wants to understand ghosts he needs to go where ghosts are, and thankfully he just read a JLD doc saying to avoid Amity Park at all costs.
It’s takes him a second to get used to flying at full speed, but he finds himself surrounded by strange people in a strange town and… he notices himself becoming more visible. He’s able to interact with more and more objects, he even picked up a pencil! Poltergeist is a step forward in his plan, Tim accepts this change of pace.
Then Tim meets Danny, a normal human kid who looks like he could be brought into the manor and given a cape, who looks straight at him.
“Wait, who are you? You didn’t die in Amity did you?”
“No, I died in Gotham. I came here to understand how I’m a ghost and how I can get back to my dying body. I just need a few answers.” Tim explains, and notices that his voice isn’t his own, like it’s a different language entirely that comes out.
“Well, uh, I dunno about going back to your body but it’s not safe for you to be here. The GIW are looking for lost souls like you that people won’t notice go missing. So get back to your family and find peace. Im sorry but that’s really the best advice I have.” Danny answers.
Tim begs him for answers on the GIW. Begs him for any answers at all. Danny shrugs him off each time, tell him that he’s just a ghost and he needs to move on before he gets hurt or becomes a problem.
Tim decides if he’s a problem, he’ll probably get more answers.
Soon enough, he’s stepping into the end of a battle where Phantom is getting Skulker into a thermos, and demands answers, and if not answers help.
They brawl, and Tim’s training as Red Robin gets him farther than a lot of ghosts. And then, when he knows he’s beat and he’s about to share thermos space with the robot jackass (who he can interrogate and then build his own robot) Tim realizes something.
“You’re still alive, aren’t you? You’re Danny, black hair and blue eyes.” Tim says and suddenly Phantom is as still as the dead despite the accusation.
“How the fuck- dude. Okay, you know what? Fine. Lets go talk, you’re clearly not giving up and I need you to never say that shit out loud ever again.”
Because blackmail works in life for Tim, blackmail also apparently works in death.
He’s given all of the info they have on the GIW, he’s introduced to ghost technology and how it works with ectoplasm. He’s told about the portal (although they refuse to sneak him into the house to see it- he can handle a few lasers, ugh) and he’s told about the general sequence of events in Danny’s life/death.
And then Tim is suddenly back in his body in Gotham.
The family found a way to bring him back and he’s 100% alive, no longer ghostly, but he retained all his memories.
“We have a war against the government to start” are not the first words his family expected to hear from Tim post death.
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kamaluhkhan · 1 month
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COMPLICATED
LUST — part iv of we'll write sins like tragedies
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pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 8.9k summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;( author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡
♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne
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i. 
in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.
which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.
it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.
"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?" 
you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response.  it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.
after another beat of silence, you take the lead.
“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”
“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.
a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.
“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”
“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.
“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests. 
almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same. 
with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.
you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:
“it’s not her.”
he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.
for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters. 
according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you. 
“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — " 
annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —
well, percy can’t help but admire you even more. 
"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”
“everything else?”
you look at percy like the answer is obvious. 
“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.” 
that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.
“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.” 
“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.” 
“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.” 
you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“what? you never told me that.” 
“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”
“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”
you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.
“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”
again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too. 
“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”
“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”
percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.
deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.
he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.
ii.
if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.
“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.
“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side. 
“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”
“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”
“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges. 
“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”
“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”
luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even. 
“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”
“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”
in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.
“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”
“i just want to be prepared.”
“prepared for what?”
luke hesitates. “just….the future.”
“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”
“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”
“oh my fucking gods — ”
grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults. 
when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him. 
and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles. 
lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.
that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.
then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst. 
like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods. 
“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”
luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.
“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”
you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.
and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.
“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”
grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory. 
he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.
iii. 
annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely. 
all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.
unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other. 
annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.
she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.
but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.
as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name. 
luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.
all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.
you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve. 
annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.
luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first. 
“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”
annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like. 
as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand. 
maybe that’s a good place to start. 
“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?" 
"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."
"would you go to school?"
you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.” 
“what about luke?”
your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."
"luke needs you."
you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask: 
“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”
and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry. 
“how did you —”
“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun. 
“well, nothing’s confirmed.”
you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”
annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.
"what's holding you back?"
“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares —  that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”
“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”
you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.
“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping." 
"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks. 
you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more. 
"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”
"oh," is all annabeth can say. 
“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."
annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it. 
before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.
luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.
when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again. 
"that sucks."
“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important." 
"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"
"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers.  "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”
“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”
the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs. 
“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”
you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight. 
"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.
annabeth hums.
"how much of that did you hear?" 
luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.
iv.
you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.
luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin. 
“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot. 
“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”
“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.
“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke. 
luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you. 
“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point. 
and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.
none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves. 
you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”
luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.” 
“they went alone?”
“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”
“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.” 
luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies. 
 “don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.
it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed. 
“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”
you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you. 
“nothing,” he answers instinctively. 
“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter. 
“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”
“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”
“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?” 
it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky. 
“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath  before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.
of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.
“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”
“then what is it?”
“noth—”
“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”
the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.
so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is. 
for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks. 
dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander. 
the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches. 
but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.
working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created. 
he did it for you, even if you won't understand.
he'd do anything for you.
so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch. 
v. 
in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.
gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned. 
you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm. 
“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers. 
“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”
“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”
a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for. 
“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke. 
for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him. 
and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense. 
you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through. 
“you never told me about your dad.”
ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.
you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it. 
“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.” 
you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.
“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.
“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”
“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”
“that’s….that’s different.” 
“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”
“which is?”
 you debate telling luke the truth. 
it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.
“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit. 
another pause, this time from the other side of the bed. 
“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”
you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.
“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”
“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”
in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling. 
“always so dramatic,” you tease.
deep down, you know you’re not much better.
luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.
it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t. 
truthfully, it still scares you.
“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”
you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.
"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."
he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.
"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?
"luke —"
"i have to sort it out on my own.”
"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”
another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything. 
eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:
"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up." 
"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."
you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.
"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."
luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more. 
"do you really mean that?"
his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away. 
“of course.” 
you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body. 
neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.
you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later. 
for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more. 
it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time. 
eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.  instinctively, you start rutting against him. 
“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong. 
luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin. 
“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”
“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”
“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”
you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”
“good girl.”
your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go. 
you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.
it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians. 
secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.
"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.
you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers." 
luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there. 
"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says: 
“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.
luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal. 
as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again. 
you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.
“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you." 
in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 
“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”
sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time. 
this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep. 
you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.
with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you. 
"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?" 
all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words. 
you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.
"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop." 
you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.
"y-yes, luke."
"are you mine?"
you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.
you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.
"i'm yours," you promise.
luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.
satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours. 
it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.
the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high. 
luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.
“did you just —” 
the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.
"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."
luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.
"you’re so fucking hot."
your heart flutters. 
“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.” 
he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating. 
“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "
"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself. 
maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do. 
you want more. you need more.
"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"
"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought. 
you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.
"shit. i don't have another one.”
"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.  
you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you. 
"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"
“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."
luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:
“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?
before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face. 
"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."
you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer. 
"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings. 
luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed. 
"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”
luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."
you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours. 
made for each other.
you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too. 
“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck. 
“don’t,” you command. 
“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.
“i just want to feel you this once.”
he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet. 
luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before. 
even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.  
this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.
wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —
 “are you okay?” 
his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.
you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach. 
"i didn't hurt you, did i?"
“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”
luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.
 “you’ve never said that before.”
“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.
luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.” 
your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.
“oh, shit.…” 
you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully. 
of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.
because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job. 
“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”
luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."
"you do?" your heart resumes its beating. 
"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”
“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”
“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"
"they like the smell of begging." 
luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek. 
"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”
“you won’t —”
“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”
you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words. 
the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would. 
the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast. 
luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face. 
evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.
outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.
luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place." 
you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.
"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes." 
the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards. 
"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.
you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips. 
"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."
luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:
"i love you."
your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.
because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.
you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed. 
it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.
no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.
just this.
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