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peacelovepandora · 1 year

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Angel of my Heart

Jake Sully x Daughter!Reader

this is a part of a series of continuation scenarios following part 1 part 2, and part 3. enjoyyyyy xx.

A gentle gust blew against your long, dark hair. Loose strands swept in front of your face, slightly disturbing your view as you gazed at the sky. At the tender hour before eclipse, the sky darkened, gaining a rich pigment that resembled the skin of a salmon. Tucking a few strands behind your ear, you sighed, trying to slow your breathing as your heart rate began to climb.

"This used to be my favorite time of day," you whispered to yourself, lowering your gaze to your feet.

"Y/N?" a voice called, snapping you from your thoughts.

Aonung, walking steadily against the elastic material that led to your family's quarters, gave you a polite smile.

"Aonung," you greeted, a small smile tugging at your lips, "Hi."

As he grew close, your gaze fell to his hands, noticing his careful grip on a small, woven pouch. Curious, you raised your eyes to his when he reached a stop.

"Oel ngati kameie," he spoke deeply, raising his hand to his forehead before motioning outwards, "How are you tonight?"

"Oel ngati kameie," you replied, repeating the motion, "I'm alright. You?"

He shrugged, lowering his gaze. "Alright," he replied before meeting your eyes, once again, "A bit better now, I suppose."

A familiar feeling, one that you only felt in Aonung's presence, made itself known in your stomach. Your smile widened as you broke from his gaze, looking down before eyeing the ocean.

"I--well, my sister, actually," he began, causing you to turn back to him, "wanted to gift you with this. She said something about you losing the first one you had."

Lifting his hands, he handed the woven pouch to you, spiking your curiosity. Acting gently, you loosened the tie and opened the bag. Aonung watched you carefully.

Before reaching in, you peeked up at him. "What is it?" you teased.

When his shoulders relaxed, and a playful smile danced over his lips, your heart swelled. Raising his eyebrows, he gestured to the bag and answered.

"You must open the surprise to find out for yourself."

A giggle escaped your lips as you looked back down. Once your eyes fell on the small object inside, your heart soared.

"Oh," you gasped, reaching inside and lifting the object small out, "Yes I--my anklet! I lost it when . . ."

As you trailed off, Aonung nodded, a silent assurance that you didn't need to explain further.

The woven accessory, soft against your touch, contained various shades of green--ranging from dark forest greens to lighter, leafier greens. At the ends, dainty green beads dangled loosely.

"The colors," you breathed, turning it over in your hands, "they remind me so much of--"

"The forest," Aonung finished, making you look up and nod, "That was done intentionally."

For a moment, you stared at him silently. Under your gaze, he shifted slightly, looking away before speaking again. "Well, she hopes you like it."

Another smile, wider this time, pulled at your lips. "I do," you replied, glancing down at the gift in awe, "I really do."

Upon hearing your words, Aonung peeked back down at you, his lips briefly turning upwards. "She will be glad to hear it."

"Give her this for me."

Aonung barely had time to face you before you closed your arms around his waist. His eyes widened as he stepped back once, balancing himself as you embraced him. For a moment, his arms hovered in the air, unsure of how to react to your sudden act of affection. However, as he looked down, taking in the sight of your head resting against his chest, he felt something shift internally.

Releasing a breath, he carefully wrapped an arm around your back and placed his other hand on your head.

"Very glad that you like it," he spoke lowly, preparing to rest his head over yours.

However, he halted his actions as his eyes fell on Jake, who had suddenly appeared from behind the hut. Jake, who had initially been looking down, raised his head before freezing. Their eyes met for a split second before Aonung released you, moving as though you'd burned him.

Taking your hands, Aonung patted the anklet a couple of times. "You keep this. My father needs me. I must be going."

Slightly startled, but nonetheless grateful, you nodded gently before sending him a brief smile. The boy lowered his gaze and hurried in the opposite direction, accelerating his pace to a slight jog.

Jake, who had since snapped from his brief state of shock, narrowed his eyes as he watched Aonung flee from your side. Then, after taking a few steps forward, keeping his eyes on the teenage boy, he rested a gentle hand on your shoulder.

When you jumped, Jake snapped his gaze down to you.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he breathed, placing his other hand on your shoulder and squeezing gently, "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"It's okay," you answered, chuckling dryly as you looked up, "I'm sorry. It's me. I'm just so--"

"Hey," Jake cut in, shaking his head as he turned you, "It's not you. It's never you, alright?"

Sighing, you nodded, fiddling with the anklet in your grasp. A smile ghosted his lips as he cupped your chin for a moment before releasing you. "What did Aonung want?"

"Oh!" you responded, as your lips turned upwards, "Look! You know how I lost my anklet? Tsireya made another one for me!"

Jake's heart swelled at your visible excitement. "Really? Is this it?" he asked, holding his hand out for you to place it in, "Huh, lots of green."

"For the forest," you replied, turning it over in his hand, "See, even the beads match."

Jake nodded before glancing back in the direction where Aonung disappeared. Unable to withhold his burning question, he spoke again.

"And Tsireya couldn't deliver it to you herself?"

"She probably got caught up helping her mom," you answered, gently taking the anklet from his hand, "Besides, I haven't seen Aonung in a minute. It was nice to have a run in with him."

Jake's eyes still gazed past you. "Uh huh."

Finally catching where his mind was at, you looked up at your father. Then, feeling a subtle strike of delinquency, you tucked the anklet between your upper lip and nose. Frowning up, you pursed your lips and crossed your arms.

"Are you gonna threaten Aonung for acknowledging my existence?"

This broke Jake from his thoughts. After his eyes landed on you, he looked you up and down, taking in your comical pose before a smirk tugged on his lips.

"Not unless you want me to," he answered.

When your face fell, the anklet fell from your lips. Jake caught it before it landed, chuckling as he straightened back up. "Come on," he said, nodding towards the hut, "I'll knot this for you."

Pouting teasingly, you edged your way towards the hut. Jake, who had looked out at the water for a moment, did a double-take when he glanced at you. Narrowing his eyes playfully, he reached out, growling threateningly as you dodged his grasp and ran inside. You let out a minor yelp as you ran, making Jake tilt his head back with a laugh as he followed you inside.

"Oh, and for the record," Jake spoke up, settling himself on the floor, "A hug is more than acknowledging someone's existence."

"It wasn't for him," you countered, sitting across from him, "It was for Tsireya. I just asked him to pass it to her."

Raising an eyebrow, Jake didn't bother to hide the skepticism in his eyes. Releasing a sigh, you shook your head before breaking your gaze from his.

"It was harmless, Daddy. I swear it."

Relaxing his face, Jake glanced out the hut one last time, before turning his attention back to you. "Alright, sweetheart," he breathed.

When you didn't respond, he leaned forward, placing a hand over your knee. "Alright," he emphasized, with a tilt of his head.

Looking up, you connected your eyes with his and gave him a gentle smile. He flashed one in return before leaning back.

"Okay," he said, patting his lap, "Which ankle do you want? Same as last time?"

"Mhm," you hummed, "Right one please."

When you lifted your right leg, he took your ankle and placed it on his thigh. Then, handling the anklet with gentle hands, he wrapped it just above your foot and began knotting it. For a moment, you watched him in silence. Then, as the hut suddenly grew darker, your head snapped towards the opening. Outside the wide arch, you had a slight view of the eclipsing sun.

Jake glanced up, finishing his last knot as he watched you carefully. He didn't miss perturbed expression that crossed your face. Finishing with one last pull, he patted your ankle.

"Good to go," he said, grabbing your attention.

When you looked down at your ankle, a small smile pulled at your lips. "Thanks, Dad," you whispered, pulling your foot close.

He watched you for a moment--watched as you tucked your knees to your chest, wrapped your arms around your calves, and placed your chin between your knees. He began to reach out, but stopped himself as he decided on another course of action.

As he stood up, your eyes followed his movements, curiosity overtaking your gaze. He smiled briefly, nodding towards the doorway. Once he sat back down, facing the outside of the hut, his hand motioned you over.

With a quick jump, you raised yourself to a squat before straightening up and walking up to him. However, rather than sitting next to him, you settled yourself behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your chin on his shoulder. Jake released a breathy chuckle, placing his hands over your forearms and pecking your temple.

"Y/N."

"Mm?"

"You remember what I told you? About letting me know when things are bothering you?"

Tucking your head down, you nodded. "Mhm."

Sensing your hesitance to open up, Jake released a small breath. Shifting his gaze from you, he stared at the sky, deciding it was time to be more direct. "Tell me about the eclipse."

You were quiet for a moment, before a dry chuckle escaped your lips. "You catch everything, don't you, Dad?"

His hand reclaimed its place on your forearm. Turning his head, he spoke closely to you. "Always," he replied, "You're my little girl. It's my job."

As his words lingered in the air, your mind wandered back to the moments before your first death. Being sprawled out on the rock, the blood running down your chest, the devastation in your father's tearful eyes--all things that made your chest constrict.

Recognizing the shift in your mental state, Jake immediately unwrapped your arms from his neck. "C'mere," he instructed softly, pulling you around him, "Let's switch."

Once he plopped you onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around your biceps, engulfing you completely. Closing your eyes, you took a moment to enjoy the feeling of being held. His arms, muscular signs of security, anchored your swirling mind. Then, after a long moment, and a long breath release, you reopened your eyes.

"It was the last thing," you whispered, making Jake tilt his head to get a glimpse of your face.

"What was the last thing?" he asked, rubbing a thumb over your arm.

"Just like your voice was the last thing I heard, the eclipse was the last thing I saw," you whispered, closing your eyes and lowering your head, "It haunts me every time I see it."

Jake's ears folded back as he released a small breath, his mind tortured by the agonizing vision of your dying expression. Then, pulling you closer, he began placing multiple kisses on your head--moving from your hair to your temple to your ear to your cheek. After running a brief hand over your head, before wrapping it back around you, he prepared to respond. However, you spoke up before he could.

"It used to be my favorite time of day--eclipse," you continued, shaking your head as your gaze remained low, "but now . . . every time I see the sun disappear . . . I can't escape it--the unease, the fear, the flashbacks. Every time I think I'm moving past it, eclipse comes and reopens the wound, and it's fresh in my mind every night."

As Jake listened, he quickly made the connection between your ongoing nightmares and eclipse.

If eclipse brings the memories back in a fresh wave every night . . . Jake thought to himself, No wonder she's dealing with these night terrors.

"Every time the sun disappears, I feel as though my return to the Great Mother is among us," you finished, shivering in his arms.

Though he knew your chill wasn't from coldness, for a brief moment, Jake subconsciously rubbed his hands over your arms before wrapping them around you again. Looking up, you stared out to the horizon. Jake processed your words and shook his head, closing his eyes as a searing pain shot through his heart.

"Baby girl," he began, speaking in a hushed voice, "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. For all of this. It was my fault. It was my job to keep you safe--it still is--and to make sure that nothing in this world hurts you. I'll . . . I'll never forgive myself for failing you the first time around."

Frowning, you turned to face him, cupping his cheek with your smaller hand. "Daddy . . . Daddy," you called, making him open his eyes to look at you, "Not once have you ever failed me. What happened that night was beyond your control. Quaritch was beyond your control. The sky people returning was beyond your control. In those last moments, you and I--" You paused, feeling yourself grow choked up.

Jake's eyebrows creased as his gentle eyes held your gaze. Though he knew that you were the one trying to offer him words of comfort, he could never disregard his paternal instinct to console you anytime you grew dewy-eyed.

Cupping your cheek, he began rubbing his thumb over your prominent cheekbone. However, you quickly removed his large hand from your skin, holding it with both of yours.

Your voice came out as a pained whimper, but you forced yourself to get the words out. "You and I both knew what was happening--what was going to happen," you said, making Jake blow a breath out of his nose and lower his head briefly, "B-But you--"

Cupping your father's cheeks, you forced him to meet your eyes, once again--an action he'd done with you countless times. When he did, you pressed your palm against his chest. "When that realization hit me, and I grew panicked, you gave me peace," you continued, "Because of you, I wasn't afraid to let go. You had the strength to make sure that I wouldn't be afraid to die."

Jake shook his head, eyes filling with tears as he let out a sob. He cupped both of your cheeks before pulling you into his chest, folding his arms around you.

"My sweet girl," he choked, squeezing you against him and running a shaky hand over your hair, "God . . . . God, my sweet angel."

"P-Please don't call yourself a failure, Daddy," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as you pressed into his skin, "It hurts me because you're my heart, and I don't blame you for any of this." A small sob escaped your lips now, though you tried to hold it back. "I'm just so frightened now. Not of dying, or joining the Great Mother, but frightened of losing you again."

Jake let out another breath, wishing only to squeeze you tighter, but restraining himself--knowing that he had the potential to hurt you.

"We share the same fear, baby," he answered, placing his chin over your head, "I can't lose you either. Never again."

Then, after a moment spent in thought, he tilted his head down, placing the pads of three of his fingers against your chin and gently coaxing your head up. When you felt his tender touch, you instantly obeyed his silent command, connecting your eyes with his.

"And you and I--we're many things to each other. I'm many things to you. But 'your heart'?" Jake continued, shaking his head, "I can't . . . I can't let you give me that title. I, alone, don't deserve a title so generous."

Pressing your lips together, you leaned up, taking his hand from your chin and holding it. "Who wanted to take me back home? Who wanted to give it a try, even though I had already joined the Great Mother?"

The tension in his face eased, though the solemnity never left his eyes. His lack of answer was enough for you. Smiling slightly, you placed his hand over your heart.

"It's beating because you demanded it to beat again. You are my heart, Daddy. It is decided."

The two of you held each others' gazes for a long moment. Then, after releasing a breath from his nose, a smile began to tug at Jake's lips. Cupping both sides of your head, he pulled you close and kissed your forehead. However, rather than pulling away, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against yours. You mirrored him, closing your eyes, as well.

After a long moment of comfortable silence, you gathered the courage to share another burden with your father--one that you'd been holding for days.

"Daddy?" you whispered, making him open his eyes.

"Hm?" he hummed, focusing his gaze on you.

Your eyes remained closed as you spoke. "Can I tell you something else?"

A minuscule spark of joy spread through him. Nothing made him happier than seeing you let your walls down to him. "Anything that's on your mind, sweet girl."

Pulling back, you opened your eyes. However, you kept your gaze low, focusing on Jake's necklace, rather than meeting his eyes.

"I'm afraid I've brought our family shame."

Jake frowned. "What?" he breathed, beginning to shake his head, "No. No, no, sweetheart, you haven't. What happened might have been beyond my control, but it sure as hell wasn't in your control, either."

"That's not what I mean," you replied, looking away briefly.

Jake's shoulders sunk as his frown eased. "Oh," he spoke, "Then, how do you mean?"

You sighed, feeling embarrassment creep up your spine, swirling around your chest and stomach. "I've lost my connection to the water."

Jake blinked at you. His lack of response made you fumble into a series of excuses. "I-It's just--ever since--I just look at the water and I can't bring myself to--I mean, I haven't swam properly since it all--"

Jake reached out, gently cupping the back of your neck. "Y/N," Jake hushed you, "Y/N."

For a brief moment, he placed a finger on your lips, silencing your rambles. Once you fell silent, receiving the message, he adjusted his hands to hold your chin, gripping it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Sweetheart," he began, looking away briefly as a chuckle pushed its way through his lips, "I swear, I'm gonna get this through that thick skull of yours, if it's the last thing I do."

Your lips parted as you absorbed his words. Jake looked back at you, his pointer gently rubbing against the skin beneath your chin.

"None of this is on you. Absolutely none of it. You got that?" he continued, waiting for you to nod.

When you did, his gaze remained unmoving.

"You sure?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head, "I know you can be as stubborn as your mother, sometimes."

"I got it," you answered meekly, keeping your gaze down.

"That was pathetic," he replied flatly, briefly using his finger to tickle the skin beneath your chin, "C'mon, a little more feeling."

A giggle spilled from your lips as you pulled away, gripping the hand that held your chin.

"I got it," you replied, louder this time as you met his eyes with raised eyebrows.

"You gonna stop worryin' that pretty little head of yours about it?"

Embarrassment crossed your face. Leaning down, you shoved your face into his chest. "Yes," you mumbled, feeling him shake as he chuckled.

"Good," Jake answered, a smirk fading from his lips, "Now--hey, look at me."

Jake tried to lean you back up, but you dodged his hand. Then, rolling over, you laid your head against his left thigh, bending your knees and placing your feet down to support yourself. Smiling softly, Jake reached down and cupped your chin with both hands, rubbing his thumbs over your skin.

"Between you and the water," he continued, "you're just dealing with some PTSD."

When your face fell, he released a sigh. "I'm afraid things like this are inevitable, baby. They're gonna happen. But, we can always find ways around them. And, you and I, we're gonna deal with it together. Alright?"

As you looked into his eyes, relief seeped into your veins. Without saying a word, he communicated your safeness with him. With his eyes, he let you know that, even if the Metkayina had thoughts on your temporary disconnect with the water, he would be the first to jump in front of you, guarding every blow before it could touch you.

Nodding your head, you released a breath. "Thanks, Daddy," you whispered, reaching up to grip one of his wrists, "Truly. I can't thank you enough for always being . . . here. For always listening. For caring."

He shook his head. "I don't like that you're thanking me for doing the bare minimum," he answered matter-of-factly, "You're mine, and I'll always be here, whether you like it or not."

"Even if you have to go off, and be Toruk Makto again?"

Jake removed a loose strand of hair from your forehead. Then, he leaned in slightly, raising his eyebrows in the process. "Being your heart is more important to me than being Toruk Makto, angel."

Giving him a close-lipped smile and shutting your eyes, you said nothing in response--fulfilled by his weighted words.

As endeared as Jake was--with your head lying in his lap--he wanted you closer. "C'mere," he rasped, patting his thighs.

Opening your eyes, you gave him a confused look. "I'm here."

"Well, I can't hold you from down there," he retorted, raising his eyebrows as you snorted.

"Hold my face," you sassed, closing your eyes again, "I'm comfy."

Jake tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. A mischievous snarl crossed his face. "Is that so?" he asked, his tone a little too sweet for your liking.

Barely having time to open your eyes, he gripped your midsection and yanked you up. Gasping, you broke into a fit of laughter as he closed his arms around you. It was the same position he had you in earlier, however, his grip was much less relenting, this time.

"I said I wanna hold you," he growled, pressing his face against your twitching ear as you laughed, "You gonna make me pull out the old tricks?"

"Old tricks?" you attempted to hiss, "Please."

"Is that a challenge?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow, before leaning in to blow in your ear, "How much're we bettin'?"

Your eyes widened as you tried to lean away. "No!" you hollered, fighting giggles as you tried to distance yourself from him, "No, stop it, Dad! I'm not five anymore!"

"And?"

He shook his head in your neck, making you cackle as your cheeks burned with embarrassment. However, your embarrassment spiked as a large shadow fell over your face, making you open your eyes.

With your head leaned back, you had an upside down view of Tonowari. Gasping, you leaned up, gazing at your lap as your face blazed with fire.

"Apologies," Tonowari spoke up, unable to hold back his chuckles, "I do not mean to intrude."

Jake shook his head, chuckling with him. "You aren't."

Swallowing your pride, you looked up at the Metkayina chief, preparing to greet him properly. "Oel ngati kameie, Olo'eyktan Tonowari."

Jake looked down at you, pride spreading across his face. Tonowari gave you a fond smile as he took a knee. "Oel ngati kameie, young one," he replied, before turning to Jake, "Oel ngati kameie, Jakesully."

"Oel ngati kameie," Jake replied politely.

Tonowari, then, turned to you, once again. "Are you well, my child?"

Your shoulders sunk as the tension within your body eased. "I am . . . as well as I can be."

Jake ran a hand over your hair as Tonowari nodded once. "I understand," he answered, "On behalf of The People, my children, my wife, and myself, we are grateful to have you back with us."

Your heart swelled at his words. Visibly lighting up, you placed a hand on your heart. "Thank you, sir. I am overjoyed to be back with you all. Thank you for continuing to provide our family with sanctuary."

After nodding again, he replied. "You will always have a place here."

Upon hearing his words, your organs warmed, feeling as though a swarm of glowfish were traveling through your veins. Though Jake was always your primary paternal figure, you couldn't help the pleasure you felt in pleasing the chief of the Metkayina--and father to friends you held dear.

"If you don't mind, may I borrow your sempul for a moment?" Tonowari asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

Turning your head, you looked to Jake. Jake met your eyes, smiling softly before nodding towards the hut. "Go on. I'll be there in a minute."

Nodding, you turned to Tonowari before nodding politely. Tonowari nodded, watching with a smile as Jake helped you off of his lap before you walked into the hut. Before you left his sights, however, his eyes fell to the anklet.

Jake and Tonowari stood up before edging away from the hut. As both men walked, they stood tall--each carrying himself regally.

"She likes the gift Aonung made for her?" Tonowari inquired, making Jake turn to him in confusion.

"I thought Tsireya made it."

Tonowari frowned. "Tsireya? No. She's been working on another gift for your 'ite."

"Oh," Jake replied, turning his gaze forward.

Coming to a stop, Tonowari turned to face Jake. "I am here to check on the child's state--on behalf of my mate, as well. She has experienced something beyond our comprehension."

Pressing his lips together, Jake released a breath from his nose. "Yeah. I know."

Reading Jake's emotions, the chief tilted his head. "Is she struggling?"

Jake looked away, closing his eyes for a moment before answering. "Yeah. A lot. There's a lot that she's . . . struggling to bounce back from--which is only natural. Still, though, I hate seeing her in so much pain."

"It has left her troubled?"

"Haunted. Very."

"Mm," Tonowari hummed, "Well, I will allow you to aid her with her recovery, in any way you see fit. However, do not be afraid to come to us--should you seek other methods. Ronal wishes to assist her in any way she can."

Nodding gratefully, Jake answered him. "Thank you. We will definitely keep that in mind."

The two men gripped forearms, acknowledging one another respectfully, before separating.

"Go on," Tonowari said, nodding towards the hut, "I know you are eager to return to her."

Jake scoffed lightheartedly, glancing back, not denying the chief's words.

"Sleep well."

Jake nodded. "You, as well."

. *. ⋆

hiiii my loves sorry it's been so long. the semester has started so my priorities have shifted. however, I will still write when I can because I need to visit this universe to keep myself sane. so don't fret bc I'm not abandoning you ! all my love ! I hope you enjoyed xx

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#jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully daughter #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #avatar way of water #Jake Sully fluff #Jake Sully x y/n #soft #protective Jake sully

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dameronalone · 10 months

Text

cozy night in

marc spector x f!reader

wc: 6,700

content: EXPLICIT!!!! explicit as hell. pwp, allusions to lacy underpants that idk counts as lingerie, Marc spector is a brat is its own warning

notes: thought this was gonna be a quick pwp. I was wrong. shout out to @the-force-awakens for beta-ing & leaving comments like [paraphrase] AKRJSD MARC SPECTOR TAKE ME NOW

ao3

There isn't much you like better than a quiet Friday night in. As fun as it is to go out, to dinner and a show, to this quiet little bar a few blocks away where you and Marc (or Steven or Jake) can sit cozy in a booth, unbothered and enjoying each other's company and the pleasant buzz of alcohol, nothing beat this: coming home to Marc quietly cooking dinner, the radio turned on and quiet, something acoustic and relaxed, the only music the three of them can agree on.

Nothing beats leaning to kiss Marc's jaw in greeting, relishing the quirk of his lips. Washing your face and changing out of your work clothes into comfortable leggings and a shirt, well-worn and soft and smelling of their aftershave.

It's nice to go out, tuck your hand in Jake's elbow, Marc's hand, around Steven's waist, show each other off with the subtle brag of I get this beautiful person all to myself. You like going out with them, especially with Marc who prefers to stay in, because it's such a testament to him, who he is, how much he wants to make those he loves happy.

But it's better like this.

There's the quiet tap-tap-tap of drizzling rain on the window, and you're grateful it hasn't turned into a storm. Marc doesn't like storms, and as you step up behind him, winding your arms around his waist and pressing your face to the back of his neck, you don't want his rarely-relaxed shoulders to tense again.

One of the things you like the most about Marc is his silences, how he doesn't expect you to talk constantly and doesn't pressure you to speak when you can't, and how he knows you do the same for him. Especially when it's been a long day, ending a long week at work, and you just need time to be quiet, snuggle into Marc as he cooks, moving as little as possible.

It's not until you heave a huge breath and lift your head, feeling a little more like a person, and peer over his shoulder to see what he's cooking - pan-fried salmon, oven roasted vegetables, that creamy macaroni and cheese recipe you love that takes a special brand of cheese Marc has to hunt down from across town - that he speaks.

"How was your day?" Marc asks quietly, touching his fingertips to the back of your hand at his diaphragm.

"Mm. Long," you say, kissing his shoulder, and releasing him to gather plates and pour drinks. "Glad it's over. Our internet kept going offline which only put us more behind schedule."

Marc makes a sympathetic sound as he takes the plates and serves up your dinner, and you follow him to the couch with two glasses and a new bottle of that cheap white you prefer that Marc must've picked up today as well.

"How was your day, baby?" you ask, settling next to him. He hands you your plate and clicks on the TV before answering.

"Fine. Normal. Went back to sleep after you left, got around to cleaning. I dunno how Steven lived like this," Marc grumbles, but it's good natured, and you giggle, scooting closer as you take a bite. Steven's messy tendencies never failed to grate on Marc's careful neatness.

Still, they'd come to a sort of understanding, and Marc didn't upset Steven's chaotic system of mess as long as he got to clean to his heart's content (which was often and for a long time).

The pair of you settle into companionable quiet, the TV volume quiet, subtitles on the low-stakes action movie you've seen a million time to keep you company while you eat. By the time you're finished, you're pleasantly full and mildly sleepy, ready to cuddle with Marc until bed. Marc pats your thigh and takes your plate, standing to take the dirty dishes to the sink, washing up.

You wish he'd relax, leave the dishes for later, but he likes to take care of you, and he has a thing about germs, so you leave him in peace. The quiet sounds of running water and clanking dishes are domestic, homey; you look over your shoulder to catch sight of Marc at the sink, head bowed as he meticulously scrubs the frying pan.

God, you love him. You love all three of them, but you'd met Marc first, and he'd always have a special place in your heart reserved for him.

Marc rinses the pan, grabs the towel off his shoulder, and turns to look at you as he dries it. He raises his eyebrows when he catches you staring, and even though you feel your face warm, you don't look away, raising your eyebrows back at him.

"You're missing the movie," Marc says pointedly.

"Seen it a million times," you say, shrugging and fighting back a smile. Marc looks doubtful.

"It's more interesting than watching me wash dishes."

"Is not," you frown, turning around to sit on your knees, properly facing him. "I'd rather look at you. I'd watch you do taxes."

Marc's face twists up in exasperation, turning around to put the pan up and drain the sink. You don't press the issue, because he still has problems taking blatant compliments and accepting affection like that, but you'd never lie to him, especially not about this. You give him a minute, wait until he's wiping down the counter for the third time before you talk again.

"I'd watch you do plenty of boring things. Or interesting things. I like to look at you, Marc," you say softly, smiling in an attempt to convince him.

Marc exhales, shaking his head as he sets the towel down and turns to face you, crossing his arms over his chest, which only makes him look more broad than he already is.

"I'd rather look at you," he says. He takes a few steps closer, though he's still too far away and out of reach and you suddenly want him in your arms. "I'd rather look at you when you're too busy to look at me."

"You like that, huh?" Your own voice surprises you, abruptly small and breathless. Marc takes a few more slow steps, even nearer, close enough to touch, but you don't move yet. His head dips in a nod.

"Like when?" you ask before he can say anything, hands gripping the couch cushions to hide the trembling. Fuck, you've never wanted anyone the way you want him.

Marc's mouth twitches upward, and he uncrosses his arms, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips before curling under your chin, and tipping your head back.

"Like when you read," he says. His voice is a quiet rumble but it's the only thing you can hear. "Or when you cook. Or when you're asleep."

His expression shifts, a little more teasing, more playful. "Or when you shower."

"Perv," you mutter, not meaning it, narrowing your eyes at him regardless. Marc starts to bend down and you hold your breath.

"You like it," he mutters, breath warm against your face.

But moments before his lips touch yours, you blurt, "Why d'you like it?"

Marc pauses, thumb stroking your chin, and you honestly don't expect him to give you an answer, already trembling in anticipation of his all-consuming kiss.

"Because it means you trust me."

The words are barely audible, and you hardly have time to process their meaning before he closes the distance, mouth firm and warm against yours. The meaning clicks belatedly, as Marc licks at the seam of your mouth until you open, and you clutch at his shirt helplessly. You want to break away, tell him that you do, you trust him with everything, love him so much, only - he's merciless, your Marc, ruthless in the way he kisses you, and he doesn't give you a second to think.

Not for the first time do you curse your need to breathe - Marc seems to sense you're at your limit, lungs beginning to burn, so he pulls away from your mouth, but you immediately miss his lips on yours. You suck in a breath, chest heaving to try and catch your breath, but it turns into a gasp - Marc has turned his attention to your jaw, the line of your neck, and scrapes his teeth along the tendon there just as you inhale.

Fuck. He had no right to be this good a kisser, no right to have you melting into his touch and still craving more seconds after he'd first kissed you with intent.

He slips his hands up your shirt, caressing your waist and drifting higher, and you know he finds the surprise when he pauses, drawing back from your neck, raising an eyebrow and giving you a look.

"Now what's this?" Marc asks, voice low and rich with desire, fingertips tracing the lacy band of your bra. Finally, the tables turn and you manage to catch your breath. You smile, sly, and look at him from under your lashes,

"Just something for you," you say, and giggle breathlessly when Marc moves to pull your shirt up and off. The sudden cool air that washes over your newly bared skin sends goosebumps rippling across your arms and chest - or maybe it's the way Marc is looking at you, and the dark blue bralette you'd changed into;, comfortable, just lace and elastic, but something for Marc to enjoy.

He hadn't so much told you how much he liked you in lace, and rich colors like the deep blue you wore now, but he didn't need to say it. Actions speak louder than words, especially when it comes to Marc Spector.

"Baby," Marc rumbles, brushing one hand across the swell of your breast so gently you might've imagined it, "You're killing me here."

"God, I hope not," you say, breaking into giggles again when Marc groans, overdramatically exasperated, and hauls you to his chest. He stands up, taking you with him, and you shriek in surprise as he takes you right over the back of the sofa, winding your legs around his hips - as if he'd ever let you fall.

Marc deposits you on the bed, and though he isn't laughing, he's smiling, shoulders twitching as he stands over you, pulling his shirt over his head in a quick yank that never fails to send a thrill down your spine - but you count it as a win, getting Marc to smile like that, laugh his private little understated laugh.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" he says, almost to himself as he undoes his belt, but you answer anyway, squirming to get more comfortable.

"I can think of a few things," you say, looking up at him from beneath your lashes as you stretch out.

"Yeah, I bet you can," Marc says, rolling his eyes fondly as he shoves his jeans down and kicks them off. And then he's standing at the foot of the bed in nothing but his underwear, and you can see the half-hard bulge of him. Your mouth waters at the sight and you half-heartedly push up onto an elbow, but Marc's hand closes around your ankle and tugs, pulling you down the bed and closer to him.

You shriek again in surprise, which fades into giggles as you knock your heels into the back of his knees, trying to urge him closer. Still, you love it when he towers over you like this, when you're flat on the bed and he's still standing. You can't figure out how he's real, the chiseled features and healthy strength on his body; you're mesmerized by the flex of muscle and tendon when he reaches for the waistband of your leggings, belatedly lifting your hips to help. When you look at his face again, his eyes are already on yours, warm and dark as he drags your pants down, but not your underwear.

Marc drops your pants to the floor, sliding his palms up your newly bared skin, hiking your knees around his waist. He leans down, palming your hips, the matching blue lace, and nudges your noses together, but doesn't kiss you. Waits until you're huffing an impatient breath and tipping back your chin and whining out, "Marc-" before he seals his mouth to yours.

He kisses you for a long moment, warm and slick, licking into your mouth, stroking your sides. All you can do his wind your arms around his shoulders, dig one hand into his hair.

"What do you want?" Marc murmurs, breaking away for a moment, pressing the words into your cheek along with a kiss. "Hm, baby? Tell me so I can give it to you."

He's hardly touched you and already you feel worked up, borderline overwhelmed and squirming - Marc knows damn well what you want (anything he'll give you) but he likes to hear you say it. Likes to draw the words from you when you're strung out and wanting.

You're not that far gone.

"Marc, c'mon-" is as far as you get before one of his hands at your hip slips down, squeezing the softness of your thigh, and then in. His thumb finds your clit through the fabric of your underwear and he presses down until you whine.

"What was that, baby?" Marc asks, amusement in his voice, and you huff, annoyed, and snap,

"I want you to touch me, Spector."

Marc chuckles, slips his thumb further down and effortlessly finds your entrance - or at least, where it's hidden and inaccessible through your underwear.

"Isn't that what I'm doing?"

Teasing asshole that he is, Marc only presses his thumb down, until your hips are bucking up, and then pulls his hand away. He pats your hip, mockingly sympathetic, then reaches to pull your hands down from around his shoulders, and rises to his full height.

You try to snap his name - Marc! - but it comes out like a whine, breathless and pleading - "Maaarc-"

Marc chuckles again, pushing the gusset of your underwear aside, staring down at where you're wet and dark.

"Want me to put something in that pussy? You want me to fill you up, make you full? That what you want, baby?"

You try to answer. Try to tell him yes, fuck yes, Marc - but you can only moan, eyes glued to his other hand that reaches into his own underwear.

Fuck you've never seen such a gorgeous cock. It's not fair, it's not fucking fair that Marc Spector and his alters are the perfect man. It can't be real that you get this. Anxious with anticipation, you fist your hands in the sheets, watching as he strokes himself languidly, still staring at your aching cunt. You think your chest might cleave in two from the strength of the want coursing through your body, and tip your head back, slamming your eyes closed.

Distantly, you hear Marc spit, hear the wet sound of him stroking his cock again. Fuck fuck you need him inside, need him inside before he changes his mind and fucks you open with one, two, three fingers and tongue before he gives you his cock, draw it out like he likes. All at once you feel the fat head of him rubbing against you, burning hot. Marc pushes - lets the fattest part of him breach you - stops moving with you stretched around him, quietly groans and you want to hear it again, stops moving even as your cunt clutches at him desperately, trying to pull him inside -

"That's all you get for now," Marc says hoarsely, pulling out, and taking your underwear with him, even as your eyes shoot open.

"Marc, oh my god," you snarl, and he resolutely ignores you as he goes to his knees on the floor, pulling one of your legs over his shoulders. He doesn't move, though you can feel his breath against you, and then - Marc fucking inhales, breathes in the smell of you.

"So fucking impatient," Marc complains, and ducks his head to taste you.

There's not a lot better than this, in Marc's opinion, not a lot better than settling on his knees with his face buried in the apex of your legs, soft thighs tensed around his head. He drags the flat of his tongue up your pussy, opening you up to him, groaning at the musky taste that he'll never get enough of. He pulls away, folding one arm under your thigh, keeping you from squirming out of his grip as he runs his palm up your other leg. You haven't shaved in awhile, and your legs are starting to grow soft and fuzzy again, and he loves it.

Marc rubs his cheek against the softness of your inner thigh, lets his hand drift up your thigh to squeeze your hip, then slip around and down, swiping through your folds to circle your clit. You make a breathless sound, jerking your hips up in search of more, but Marc holds firm, presses first his lips, then his teeth to your thigh, and ducks back to taste your cunt.

He rubs your clit with the pads of his fingers, searching for the essence of you inside with his tongue, then changes tactics, taking his slicked up fingers and pressing them deep. It pulls a kind of wheezing sound from you and Marc strains to look up at you without pulling away. You've got one arm thrown over your face, the other hand desperately grabbing the sheets, chest heaving.

(It makes him think of a few nights ago: he'd gotten home late to find you sleepy but awake, laying in bed waiting for him. He likes fucking you when you're sleepy because you're so much more responsive and he can draw words out of you with every stroke of his things between your legs. He'd cradled you close, pressed up against your side, fucked you slow and deep with his fingers and he'll never forget the way you gasped, "Full, feels full," when he'd asked you what it felt like.)

"Fuck," Marc groans, tucking his face back down between your legs. "Fuck, that's it. Good girl." His words are muffled even to himself, and he has no idea if you can understand him or not, but you moan regardless, and he doesn't really care.

He can tell you're getting close, from the aborted, jumpy little thrusts your hips keep giving, from the way you start to hold your breath. Marc pushes you right up to the edge.

And then stops, removing his fingers, turning his head away. Distantly, you're cursing his name, writhing and trying to get him back where you want him, but as much as you try to play at being demanding, Marc knows you like submitting too much to actually be upset.

The dim lighting catches on the thin sheen of sweat on your skin, the dampness collecting in the folds of you, in the crease where your thigh joins your hip, and Marc ducks his head, licking away the salt of you.

"Marc," you say, sounding far away, and when he lifts his head to look at you - take in your expression, needy and pleading - he thinks he falls just a little more in love with you. "Marc," you say again, hands reaching for him clumsily, caressing his shoulders, carding through his curls.

"What is it, baby," he murmurs, lifting his hand that had been curled around your thigh to catch your wrist, kissing your palm, the pounding of your pulse. "What do you need?"

"You know what I need," you complain, practically growling as you tug on his hair harshly. Marc just chuckles, not bothering to remove your hand from his hair even though the pressure on his scalp almost hurts - but it's good. Keeps him right here with you.

"What do you want then," Marc asks, pressing deceptively gentle kisses to your hips, your belly beneath your navel. Your stomach jumps and dips as the wash of his breath, and he can just make out the faint whine that falls from your mouth.

"Want you to kiss me again," you admit, lifting your bashful gaze to meet his. And fuck - he'll give you anything you want. He doesn't know how you haven't figured it out yet.

"I can do that," Marc tells you, moving until he was level with you, hand still slick with your wetness curving around your hip as he cups your cheek with the other.He doesn't make you wait this time, dips down to kiss you, languid.

One of Marc's favorite things about this - sex - was how it immerses every sense. Not just touch, though he could never get enough, your hands on his, gripping his shoulders and waist, grabbing hair, his hands on your skin, anywhere and everywhere, but the rest of them. The way you look when you moan and arch your back and your eyes flutter. The way you sound, the hitch of your breaths, the slick sound of his tongue in your mouth. The way you taste, fuck, the way you smell.

But fuck he loves the little sounds. Loves being this close to you when he dips his middle two fingers inside your dripping cunt. When he's this close, Marc can catch the breathless whines and moans before they have a chance to escape. This close, Marc can watch your face screw up as he adds his pointer finger, fucking you with three now.

"There you go," Marc mutters when your hips start to roll against his hand, grinding against his palm and clenching around his fingers, "fuck, just like that."

His name escapes you mouth in a little puff of air, your hand in his hair slowly relaxing until you slide your hand down to clutch the back of his neck. Your eyes flutter back and - that right there. That’s one of his favorite expressions on you, focused yet a million miles away, too caught up in the pleasure coursing through your body to pay attention to him, to watch him watch you. This is what he meant earlier, when he told you - confessed to you that he liked it when you weren’t looking back at him.

A groan escapes Marc’s mouth before he can stop it, wrecked and torn from his throat, but you don’t seem to notice, or at least acknowledge it. He ducks his head, suddenly frantic with the need to taste your skin, dig his teeth into your neck, sharp points of pain to counter the warming bliss between your legs. As always, the touch of his teeth to your skin has you gasping, then moaning, unashamed and loud. Marc gets lost in it, marking up the long line of your throat, realizing almost too late that he’s gotten carried away. You’re fucking close; he can tell by the quiver of your thighs around his hand, the jerk in your hips.

“Not yet, baby, hold on,” Marc murmurs, voice rough as he eases his fingers out of you, soothing you even though he’s the one that has you whining and squirming and calling his name -

Fuck, Marc had to admit this was one of his favorite things, when he holds you at the edge, has you stripped down bare and aching - when he dangles you in front of your release, just to hear you call his name, plead with him to let you come. Marc liked to deny you, and deny you again, but more than that, he loved to give it all to you, give you everything and more until all you can do is cling to him, and him alone. He didn't keep your release, or anything from you because he didn't want you to have it. To the contrary, there was nothing Marc wanted more than to give you everything you have ever wanted.

He’d admit it to himself, and only himself - Marc liked when you were desperate, but only when you needed him to give you what you want, what you need.

He always would.

“Marc, Marc, baby, please, just - I want - I need to, Marc-”

You’re babbling, nearly past coherency, bravado peeled back with your bra, and dropped to the floor. You must've been more tired than usual tonight, or this is what you wanted the whole time, to already be this far gone. Marc shushes you again as he slips down your body, burying his face between your breasts, just for a moment, before turning his head to suck a mark on the swell. You keen when he takes the nipple in his mouth, when he carefully covers the other with his palm, and squirm against his thigh parting your legs. Abruptly, Marc is very aware of his own nakedness, his cock hard and aching and leaking near your hip. He closes his eyes, groaning, and allows himself to grind back against you, just once.

Fuck fuck, he loves you. Can’t get enough of you. Pulls off your breast to say, “I know, I know, honey.” He keeps his voice low, gravelly and thick with want. “I know you need to come, don’t you? Need to come all over me?”

“Fuck,” you gasp, “please, please-”

“It’s okay, you did good, such a good girl for me,” Marc continues, kisses your collarbones, your jaw, bites your bottom lip. “I always give you what you need, right? My good girl. Don’t I give you what you need? C’mon, tell me.”

Your eyes blink open, lashes damp, eyes wide and blown out. You say, “Always give me what I need, Marc.” And your voice breaks, and so does Marc’s resolve.

“Yeah I do,” Marc growls, and pats your hip. “Now turn over, baby. I’ll give you what you need.”

You move, half rolling over on your own power, limbs clumsy, half Marc maneuvering you where he wants you, until you’re on your belly, hands trembling as they curl in the blankets. You peer over your shoulder at him, eyes half lidded, as he runs his hands down your spine, strokes your sides. He likes the way your skin feels, soft and unmarred as much as his is. Sure, you have scares here and there, a few on your forearm that had worried him until you assured him it was from your parents’ cat, but all in all - you are warm, soft, supple under his own calloused and scarred hands. He curls his hands around your hips, squeezing, and then pulls you back towards him, onto your knees, and palms the round of your ass.

“There you go,” Marc mutters, needlessly wetting his fingers before sliding them back between your legs, where you are dripping, soaking wet. A choking sound slips from your mouth as you jerk back against him, and Marc hisses when the motion brings your ass in contact with his dick.

He doesn’t need to open you up - not when he can feel the seeking clench of your pussy when he brushes against your entrance.

Marc pulls his hand away, absently petting your hip, shushing you softly to counter the needy sounds that spill from your mouth. He slides his hand around from your hip to part your folds, taking himself in hand with the other, and eases inside. You gasp, arching your back, muscles bunching when you try to grind back, force him all the way in, but Marc grasps your hip, keeps it slow. Waits until he’s half inside the blisteringly hot clutch of your cunt before shoving himself the rest of the way.

It’s almost too much for him, nearly too much for you as well if the wail you let out is anything to go by, and Marc lurches forward, groin shoved up against your ass. He plants a fist in the mattress near your head, the only thing keeping him from collapsing on top of you and rutting helplessly to his climax. Even still, his own panting chest is pressed along the length of your back and he can feel every shift of your body, of the muscle under your skin.

“Marc, Marc, Marc-” you chant, words cutting off into a low moan when Marc pulls out and shoves back in. And again. And again. And again, until you sound like you can’t take a full breath. Your hand comes up, clasping his wrist, squeezing and holding on like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. And then your forehead is pressing against his inner wrist, and your eyes are slammed shut, and Marc thinks he can feel the throb of your pulse around his dick.

Fuck - the idea has his hips stuttering, briefly losing his rhythm as he grinds into you for a second longer. He can tell you’re close, that it won’t take much to get you there, and by God, he’ll get you there.

Marc lets go of your hip, belatedly realizing just how hard he’d been grabbing it, winding his arm around your waist and holding you tight, fitting his chin over your shoulder to first nip your jaw, and then talk you the rest of the way.

It doesn't take a lot, especially when you're this close, when you can hardly pay attention to what he's saying but that's never stopped him before. Marc opens his mouth and lets words spill out, lets them out the way he so rarely ever does - just like that baby, I know I know, you're close, so good, pussy so tight taking all of me like this and just a little more baby, you can take more, take me deeper, lemme in, lemme fuck you open, lemme fill you up and taste it after and fuckfuck c'mon, come for me baby I know you want it, been so good waiting, come on my cock baby, c'mon c'mon -

Somewhere between taking a breath and the spill of words, you lock up beneath him, back arching impossibly further, nails digging into his wrist as your mouth drops open and your eyes roll back and you wail as you come around him.

And it feels so fucking good, Marc almost blows his load right then and then, hissing and swearing, his hips stuttering against yours as he tries not to think about the way you're clenching and squeezing around him and the way he can feel you start to drip down his balls. Fuckfuckfuck.

Marc sits back, petting your spine, your waist and hip. He slides his fingers through the sweat pools in the dip of your back, licks the salt of it off his fingertips, then carefully pulls out. When he rolls you onto your back, you're still blissed out, chest heaving as you catch your breath, eyes glazed and half lidded as you distantly stare up at him.

His lips twitch, something like fondness filling his chest like a balloon, and he crawls back over you, covering you with his body as he dips down to kiss your slack mouth. It takes you a moment to reboot enough to kiss him back, soft and pliant and rendered loose-limbed from your climax.

Marc pulls back, barely-there smile gracing his lips, and whispers, "There you are. Think you have another one for me?"

He's going to be the death of you. It's not even the most orgasms he's coaxed from your body before, not even close, but it was a long day and you were already sleepy before this - Marc Spector is gonna kill you during sex one day and you just hope he's not so smug about it that he forgets to miss you.

But he's smiling softly, stroking your hips and waist, the swell of your breasts, and it's not like you could ever turn him down, not really.

"Okay," you murmur, slowly bringing up your arms that feel like lead to curl around his shoulders. "Like this though. Wanna kiss you during."

"Yeah, okay," Marc agrees softly, sliding his hand down your leg, nudging until you curl your leg around his hip. "Like this," he says, brow furrowing as he carefully pushes back in.

It feels good to have him inside you again, and you'd be perfectly content to enjoy the pleasant friction that sparked through your body of Marc chasing his own release, but he'd never allow that, not if you were okay with coming again. You think he thinks if he makes you come enough times, it somehow makes it okay for him to let go, like he has to make it worth it for you in order for him to be vulnerable.

Yeah, it's a depressing thought. You're working on it with him. Just not right now.

His cock hits something up in your guts that sends pleasure sparking through your nerves, from the pit of your stomach and through your back, all the way to your fingertips, and your sigh turns into a breathy moan. You know Marc prefers to have you bent over, to take you from behind, knows that's when he feels closest to you, but you prefer it like this.

Marc, braced over you, muscles shifting and flexing with every thrust, the dim lighting catching on his skin, the sweat that's gathered there, making him glow golden. His face bent close to yours, furrowed with concentration, eyes occasionally slipping shut, then wide open again as he looks at you, the familiar warm brown of his eyes blown dark.

You like it like this, like having his face in easy reach. You slide your hands down, press your palms to the sides of his face, drawing his attention back to you, and his mouth. His lips meet yours as he snaps his hips, and you gasp, surprised, and you think you can taste a smile before he dips his tongue inside your mouth.

Something shifts in the mood, the atmosphere, and all at once Marc is just a little more intense, panting as he fucks into you, punched out sounds bursting from his mouth before he can swallow them. You clutch at his face, keeping him close, though you're hardly kissing, more open mouths pressed together and exchanging breaths.

"Fuck," Marc chokes, voice low and rough. He's gone to his elbows, nearly pinning you to the bed as he snaps his hips against yours, quicker than you think should be possible. "Fuck, gimme another."

"Marc," you say, clutching his face, his neck, shoulders. "Marc." It's all you can say, pressing your bent knee to his hip and thigh.

Marc moans your name in return, worming his forearm under your shoulders, then leans his weight on that elbow, and slides his other hand down your body, between your legs. His hair is damp with sweat, curling and hanging loosely over his forehead. He looks so good. He looks like how you imagine a Roman god would look, brought to life. Mars, Pluto, Neptune. It's not fair.

It's not fucking fair, is the thought running through your mind when Marc presses the pads of his fingers to your swollen clit, and you come again with a jolt. This time, you're nearly silent, and it feels like losing track of time, like reality fades away and it's just you and the warm bliss coursing through your veins.

Slowly, you realize Marc hasn't stopped thrusting, if anything, increasing his pace, marginally. It draws out your own orgasm, but there's nothing you want more than for Marc to come, to watch him reach his climax, feel his body tense and feel him spill into you, listen to his breath hitch, hear him choking on a gasping moan that sounds like a sob.

You want it, you want it so badly, so you clutch at his face, and moan his name, "Marc, Marc, come for me, please come, Marc, I want it, wanna feel you come in me, pleasepleaseplease-"

He breaks as soon as you start to beg, throwing his head back as his hips stuttering against yours as his control snaps, and he comes. Just like you'd imagined, hoped, Marc makes that choking sound, ripped from deep in his chest, as he fills you.

Arm buckling, Marc nearly collapses on top of you, just managing to avoid crushing you under his weight, shifting himself to the side so he was more on the bed than you. Still, you like it when he covers you, enjoy the warmth and weight of him.

Right now, you do the same, shifting your arms to wrap around his waist loosely as you try to catch your breath, as Marc does the same. He still hasn't pulled out, and you hope he stays in for as long as he can, because this had to be the best part of sex - when you are both finished, sated and too tired to move, when you are curled together and still joined. One.

You don't move even when Marc shifts his weight, adjusting your hips to stay connected. You can feel his gaze but you don't look back just yet, still staring up at the ceiling under guise of catching your breath still. You don't look when Marc starts to pet your hip in soothing, repetitive stokes. You don't look when that hand slips between your legs, to touch the slick folds parted around his cock, and feel his seed leaking slowly out.

Only when Marc palms your thigh, holding you open, carefully pulling out, do you look at him. His gaze is focused between you, at his softened dick and the mess he's made of your pussy.

"Probably shouldn't have done that," Marc rumbles, voice slightly hoarse. You raise your eyebrows at him meaningfully. He glances at you, huffing when he sees your expression, and winds his arm around your waist, tugging you onto your side, flush against him. "I know you're on the pill, but still."

You just smile, snuggling close. Marc curls his hands around the back of your neck, sliding up to cup your head, and it makes you feel precious, cared for, when he touches you so gently, so thoughtfully. Even when he tilts your head back to kiss you, soft and meandering at first, before slipping his tongue against yours again. It doesn't last long, though you lick at the spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away, just to watch his eyes darken.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Marc murmurs, cupping your cheek. He swipes his thumb over the swell of your cheek. "You need to sleep. You look wore out."

As he pulls away and rises to get a towel or washcloths, you speak: "Gee, I wonder why that could be."

Your voice is rough, and Marc just shoots you a look over his shoulder as he stands, and you hum, settling back against the pillows, content with his reaction. You watch him bustle around for a moment, soaking up the sight of him perfectly naked and comfortable, and feel just as comfortable in your own nudity at the moment, though your eyes drift lower and lower.

"I'd watch you like this too," you say slowly, sleepily, and so quietly, you don't know if Marc hears you.

You don't realize you'd closed your eyes until you feel Marc's hand on your forehead, at your scalp, hear the murmur of his voice.

"Brought you some water, baby. You need to drink some."

You whine, sleepy, and crack your eyes open. Your legs feel less sticky, and he must have wiped you off while you dozed. You don't want to move, you think, looking up at him, leaning over you, looking so concerned.

"Come on," he coaxes again, tugging at your arm, and you go this time, sitting up just enough to get a few sips of water down. When Marc is satisfied with your intake, he puts the glass on the nightstand and crawls in beside you, tucking you in under the sheets and next to him.

Sighing, content to have him against you again, you snuggle into his chest. What an excellent start to your weekend. You will sleep soundly tonight, pleasantly worn out, sleep in without a care in the world for your alarm, and undoubtedly be woken by one of the boys between your legs, either Jake or Steven wanting their turn, or Marc wanting seconds, but for now, you'll sleep, and so will Marc.

#dameronalone reader fic #18+#Marc spector x reader #marc spector x f!reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #pls rb + comment if you've read this far <3

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be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie · 1 year

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Come with me on this journey okay:

-Stay-at-home-wheelchair-Dad Jake Sully babysits literally all children. His own, whatever fosters Norm has at the time, Tonowari’s, and Tsu’sey and Sylwanin’s. He is the babysitting and parenting God.

-When they’re really rowdy he puts them all on leashes and has them pull him around the street yelling “MUSH, MUSH!”

-Eytukan is retired, so he helps Mo’at run her free clinic. Jake spends like all his free time there, “helping out” with his hoard of children. It’s really just a nice open area for the kids to play in, big fields and equipment in clear view while Jake helps with physical therapy.

-The clinic is where he and Neytiri met, he didn’t have the money for treatment on vet benefits after he was paralyzed in the marines so he ended up at the free clinic. Neytiri volunteers for her mother on the weekends, and she bullied him into enjoying life again.

-Sylwanin and Jake are pretend frenemies, she pretends to hate him because he stole her little sister AND managed to get married and have kids before her and Tsu’tey who have been dating for like, their entire lives. Jake says it’s because they have yet to be blown up, and he can help her with that.

-Every time Jake wheels his way in with all the kids Sylwanin goes “Oh, it’s you,” and Jake says “Yeah yeah, just your brother in law, not like I should get any respect around here,” and then he hands her her exact Starbucks order and offers to have Lo’ak throw up on her most hated patient.

-(when he was little Lo’ak could throw up on command)

-Sylwanin loves all her nieces and nephews equally but she especially enjoys Spider, because before he was adopted he was in the clinic fairly often for suspicious injuries. She hasn’t shaken the urge to watch him like a hawk yet.

-Eytukan and Jake are Boys in a way that disgusts all the women in their family. They go golfing together, and Eytukan accuses Jake of cheating via proximity to the ground.

-Lo’ak was DETERMINED to golf with them for years and when they actually let him come he cried he got so bored.

-Neteyam would never admit this under pain of death, but he enjoys golfing.

-Spider, Neteyam, Ao’nung, and Lo’ak are all deeply obsessed with American Ninja Warrior, so Tonowari, Jake, and Tsu’tey built a course for them. They then started to get a little into it and it got serious. To this day out of everyone they know Jake is the only one to have completed the salmon ladder, and then he hauled himself off the mat and back into his chair and Tonowari and Tsu’tey had to reconsider their sexualities.

-When Kiri, Lo’ak, Neteyam, Spider, and Ao’nung were all babies Jake went to the store with them all strapped to him or in a basket on his wheelchair and someone called the cops cause they thought he stole all those varying ethnicity babies.

-Jake calls it The Great Baby Heist of 2077 and Tsu’tey always responds to this story by asking what idiot would want that many babies?

-Sometimes Sylwanin gets too friendly with Jake and quickly pretends to get mad at him.

-Tonowari and Tsu’tey became friends by both being confused as hell by their friend Jake. When they met him he was all depressed and rotting away alone in the free clinic. Now he’s so high energy he raced Lo’ak once and threw himself out of his chair to get extra momentum to beat Lo’ak over the arbitrary finish line. He had a pool installed for Kiri to just float in and stare at the sky. He bakes cookies with Tsireya balanced on his chair between his legs so he can help her crack the eggs. He beat Tsu’tey in a wrestling match in the gym the other day. His enthusiasm for life scares them, they spend a lot of time side eyeing each other behind him.

-Sylwanin (secretly) likes Jake because he’s a good father and husband to her kids, and he’s funny and a good person, but she likes him even more for the energy he brings out in her husband. Tsu’tey is NOT GOOD at making friends, he’s awkward and he’s a weirdo. But now he plays tennis twice a week with Jake, Norm, and Tonowari and spends like every evening she has to work at the Sully house for dinner.

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jordie-gvf · 16 days

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heartsick slumber, Jake Kiszka

pic creds to @jakeforsakeher on twitter

title creds to @tripthelightfatality

creds to @ourlovegrows and @positivegvfthings

warnings : angst, cursing, accusations of cheating, cigarette smoking, use of Y/N, mentions of being drunk, slight issues with body image, allusions to sex, i think thats it, please let me know if i missed any!

word count : 2.1k+

thank you guys for being patient with me! i appreciate it more than you know

Whenever you got home from work, you would go upstairs and take a bath to decompress from the day.

When you got home, Jake's car wasn't in the driveway, you figured he was still at the studio. You put your purse and lunch bag down onto the counter and went upstairs to relax. You shimmied off your outside clothes and headed to your bathroom.

Your favorite part of your new home was the bathtub. You turned the faucet almost all the way to the left and grabbed your candles and bubbles. As the tub was filling, you grabbed a book from your bedroom.

You lit the candles and added the bubbles. You put your hair up into a claw clip and settled into the bath. You had your phone next to you on the bathtub just in case Jake called you.

You opened your book and relaxed backward into the tub. You read for about thirty minutes before you start to feel hungry. You went to get up from the water when your phone vibrated next to you. You had a text from your best friend, Kylie.

Kylie Girl ❣️

Girl, you need to go look at Instagram, now.

You started panicking and immediately checked your Instagram. You opened the app to see pictures of Jake with a woman who looked completely opposite of you. She was skinnier, prettier, skinnier.

The closer you looked, the more upset you got. He had his arm around her, kissing the side of her head. You checked the tags and zoomed in, making sure it was Jake, sure enough, it was. You found her name was Naomi.

You got out of the tub and got dressed in some simple shorts and tee. You locked your phone and went downstairs to start cooking dinner.

You were halfway done cooking when Jake walked into the house, guitar case in hand. “Hey, Baby. How was work?” he asked you.

“Fine,” you replied, in a monotonous tone, not wanting to talk to him that much.

“Okay,” he dragged out, not believing you. He walked into his home studio and put his guitar case down. He came back out to help you with dinner.

“Can I do anything to help?”

“No, I can do it.”

“Baby, let me help you.”

“Jake, I’m fine.”

He put his hands up in surrender and walked into the living room to let you finish dinner. You made the finishing touches on dinner and called him into the kitchen. He put his guitar down on the couch and walked over to the dining room table.

“Mm, you made my favorite,” Jake said, pulling out his chair and taking a seat. You grabbed him a beer from the fridge as well as a chilled glass for him.

You made honey glazed salmon, coconut fried rice and garlic parmesan knots. You served Jake his dinner and brought him a fork before you sat down. He said thank you and you decided to keep quiet.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? You've barely talked to me.”

You shook your head and pursed your lips, “Nothing’s wrong with me, I’m fine.”

He sighed at your response and proceeded to eat dinner. You picked at your food, nothing going past your lips. Once Jake was finished, you grabbed the plates and continued to the sink. You put the dishes in the sink and grabbed all the pots and pans for you to wash.

You started the water and started washing everything before Jake came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He reached in front of you and turned the water off and said, “The dishes can wait, let's go make some noise.”

You scoffed and turned the water back on. “Go make noise with Naomi,” you said, coldly. He froze and removed his hands from your waist. “Seriously? That's what this is about?! Are you seriously not talking to me over this? She’s a friend from high school. I haven't seen her in a long time.”

“I’m staying at Kylie and Dave’s. I don't want to see you right now,” you firmly told him, silently telling him that there was no negotiating in you staying home tonight.

“Fine. Fine! Walk away from your problems and put your head in the sand!”

You turned your back to him and quickly went up the stairs to your bedroom. You locked the door and called Kylie, asking her if you could come over.

She picked up after two rings, “Hey, Y/N. You okay, baby?”

“Can I come over? I can’t look at him right now.”

“Of course you can, I’ll get the guest bedroom set up.”

“Thank you,” you said through tears, gasping for breath.

You promptly hung up and packed enough clothing for the next five days. You walked into the bathroom and grabbed all your toiletries and everything you needed. You put your shoes on and grabbed your car keys, ready to peel out of the driveway.

You clutched your phone to your chest and all but ran down the stairs and straight to the garage. Jake wasn't in the kitchen, but all the dishes were done and everything was put away. You heard the strum of his beloved girlfriend coming from his music room.

Before you left, you grabbed a piece of paper and left him a note,

I’m at Kylie’s. Don’t bother texting or showing up. I’ll be home soon.

You had been gone for about 10 minutes before you started getting phone calls from Jake. You answered the phone after the 17th call, tired of hearing the constant ringing.

“Where are you?”

“There’s a note.”

“Y/N, where are you.”

“McDonalds. Bye,” you hung up the phone, and sipped your Dr. Pepper. You texted Kylie and told her that you were on the way and that you got her an oreo McFlurry for letting you stay with her.

When you got to Kylie’s house, Dave greeted you at your car and gave you a big hug, letting you know that you would be all right.

Kylie came out shortly after him and brought you inside while Dave grabbed your stuff. She had her arms wrapped around your shoulders and put you down on the couch. He brought your stuff into the guest bedroom and went to their bedroom to give you and Kylie some space to talk.

“So, what happened?” She asked you, wanting all the details

“When you texted me, I was in the tub. I looked at instagram and did some snooping and eventually found out that it was him. When he came home, I knew he knew something was wrong with me. I didn't even touch dinner and when I went to do the dishes, he wanted to go upstairs,” you took a second to calm down, getting sad at the thought of leaving him by himself. As much as you hated leaving him, you couldn’t fathom looking at him right now.

You continued, “I told him to go be with Naomi and that’s when it got heated. I never thought he would do this to me, not once. We love each other, whenever we get into arguments, we work it out. I’ve never left the house like this, he can’t sleep without me next to him.”

She grasped you tightly and kissed your head. “Go get some sleep, my love. We can talk about this in the morning.”

Dave came back downstairs and put his hands around your shoulders and told you, “Everything is set up for you, take your time.”

Kylie let go of you and helped you up off the couch to get you upstairs and asleep. You knew where their guest bedroom was, so you told Kylie to sit back down, that you could get up there yourself.

You crested the top of the stairs and jetted for the guest bedroom. You opened the door to see the bed beautifully made, the pillows were propped up, and Dave had on Gilmore Girls for you.

You sighed and lazily walked over to the bed, dropping your phone onto the bedside table and smushing your face into the soft pillow.

You woke up the smell of pancakes being cooked. You checked the time, 11:03 AM. You got up out of the warm bed and trudged down the stairs. You saw Kylie at the kitchen table and Dave at the stove, flipping pancakes.

Kylie smiled at you as you walked into the kitchen. “Here, I made you a cup of coffee. Brown sugar and milk.” You smiled at her and gladly took the cup of coffee, sipping gently on the warm liquid.

You heard a knock on the door. Kylie popped her head up and said, “Don’t worry, I called in backup. It's Trysta.” You smiled at her kind gesture of inviting one of your best friends over.

Kylie answered the door and in came your best friend, kindly smiling at you. “Hey baby girl, how are ya,” she asked. You gave her a light and quick smile, “utterly terrible. How are you?”

She chuckled and said, “Dealing with drunks in my bar, had someone get on the bartop and moon everyone.” You laughed in response to her night.

“How wonderful. I found out my boyfriend cheated on me, so that's how my night went.”

She gave you a downward smile and drank her coffee. You reluctantly turned on your phone, expecting to see a shitload of messages.

“Oh Y/N, I never told you. Jake came in last night and drank. We had to get the bouncer to tell him to leave. We called him an Uber, I couldn't let him drive like that.” Trysta told you.

“Thank you for not letting him drive. He say anything to you?”

“Yeah, that it wasn't true. That she was just a girl from high school. Honey, I really don't think he did it. You know what they say, the truth comes out when you're drunk.”

You nodded in agreement, sipping your coffee and eating your pancakes. “I should probably go see him, knock some sense into him.”

Kylie perked up, “Are you sure you're ready for that? It might be a little hard on you.”

“Yeah, I'm ready. I was ready to go back as soon as I left. I know he can't sleep without me. Let me finish and I'll be out of your hair.”

Trysta gathered her things and left a kiss on your forehead and left. After you ate, Kylie packed your stuff while you showered and put everything in your car.

When you got to the house, you saw the familiar white jeep truck and an orange tesla in your driveway. You grabbed all your stuff from your trunk and made your way into the garage. Once you stepped foot into the kitchen, you heard Jake and his brothers on the back porch talking.

“You know you have to tell her, right?” You heard Josh say.

“Tell her what? That I dated Naomi for two months in high school is now a lesbian and I definitely didn't cheat on her?” Jake exclaimed, throwing his hands up before taking a drag of Sams cigarette.

You stayed in the kitchen and listened to their conversation before pulling your pack of reds out of your purse and walking to the back porch. “Hi Jake. Boys, give us a minute?”

Sam and Josh quickly nodded, Sam handing you his lighter, because he knows you always ask for his. You smiled at him quickly as he walked into the house, closing the back door. You motioned for Jake to sit with you on the bed swing.

He followed suit as you laid down with your reds and pulled out a cigarette. Jake quickly grabs it from you, as per Jake, “I'll never make you hold your own cigarettes.”

You smiled at him, even though you were upset, he was still your polite Jake. He opted not to smoke with you, due to him and Sam smoking earlier.

He started first, “You know I never cheated on you. I wouldn't dream of it. I could never see you with another man. I'm the only one who knows how you like your tea. Your coffee order. You like to do puzzles before bed. You shampoo your hair twice, then brush it. You love watching movies with Josh. You can't sleep until I'm in bed with you. You love making love under the stars, and no one else would know that you love getting your tits sucked while you ride me. No one else knows you like I do.”

“I know you didn't, I heard you. I'm sorry for being such a bitch.”

“Youre sorry? Plum, you didn't do anything wrong. I should have explained it to you as soon as I got home. I’m sorry, sugar plum.”

You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a big kiss. By now, you were finished with your cigarette. Once you stopped, you smirked at him and said, “Still up for making some noise?”

“Always.”

taglist : @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye @ourlovegrows @gretnavannfleet @feilores @haileygvf @tripthelightfatality

#greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #greta van fleet #jake kiszka imagine #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka x reader #jakekiszka

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neverwanttofallasleep · 7 months

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A Need That Goes Unspoken - Chapter 3

Word count: 4,797

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

thank you again @writingcold for your support x

a/n: please bear with me if the next few chapters take a bit longer to get out. life is happening - sorry! i will definitely finish this story and i'm still writing as we speak. just gotta make more time x

(this chapter contains explicit sexual content!)

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a long while. You turn to view every angle of your body, just to double-check you haven't got anything twisted or any strings tucked in. Although you and Sam are seemingly in some kind of ceasefire, you’re reluctant to give him any ammunition to tease you. You think you know where you stand, but one wrong look, or in this case one nip-slip, and you might be back to being the recipient of his juvenile bullying again.

Last night, Alex had practically force-fed you some grilled salmon and vegetables, and fussed over how much water you were drinking, before Eloise had given him the stink-eye and told him to back off. As you tried to help clear the plates, Josh shooed you away. Everyone was at your disposal, offering you cups of tea or medicine or shoulder rubs, which you bashfully declined. The only offer you did take up was a cigarette with Jake, which you held between your shaky fingers as the two of you hid sneakily around the side of the house.

You’d decided that after this, a shower would do you some good. Relax your muscles, wash your hair. Rinse the adrenaline and sweat from the accident off of you. Jake had agreed.

“I think a shower is a good idea.” He’d hummed, plucking the smoke from your fingers and taking a drag. “Ellie always encourages hot water after a sickness or injury.” He smiled dreamily. “She’s gonna be such a good nurse.”

You grinned. “Of course she is. You picked a good one, Jake.”

He smirked, looking you dead in the eyes as he handed you back the cigarette. “Honestly, I still can’t believe she picked me, y’know. Three years later and I still feel like the luckiest guy on the planet.”

You shook your head as you exhaled the smoke. “She’s as lucky as you are. You two were meant for each other.”

He frowned. “It’s gonna be harder this year. She was only like half an hour away when I was at home. Now I’m gonna be all over the place while she’s stuck in Saginaw.”

You petted his arm reassuringly. “You’ll visit each other. And you’re both living your dreams. At least she’s not dropping out like Alex.”

He huffed a laugh. “God, yeah. I’d never want her to do that. I’ll just miss her.”

You felt so warm for Jake. When you were around him and Eloise, you could feel the love rolling off them in literal waves. It was like watching a romance novel come to life.

Jake had taken the smoke from you again. “Stop hogging. Alex’ll have my balls if he catches us.”

You’d giggled.

He’d stomped on the butt a minute or so later, and peeped his head around the corner to check for your aforementioned brother before waving at you to follow him back into the house.

Josh, who was washing the dishes, had given you a ridiculously obvious stage wink as you both returned inside, but luckily, Alex was back in the garden with Danny and Ellie.

Phoebe gave you a soft smile from her post by the sink, dish towel in hand. “How are you feeling now, Y/N? Better now that you’ve had something to eat?”

Phoebe is the sweetest living creature. Like an angel, or a faerie, plucked from the sky and put onto earth. She looks like one too. Long, golden curls flowing down her back, always jingling with sparkly jewelry and radiant in floaty summer dresses. She definitely doesn’t act like she’s 17. You believe she was surely reincarnated from an old soul, ridiculously wise beyond her years.

She and Josh have a special relationship, which is unsurprising for three reasons. One, everyone loves Josh. Two, everyone loves Phoebe. And three, Josh, despite his chaotic theatricality and the fact that his head is often stuck in the clouds, is a fierce protector of his brothers, Danny included. Anyone that enters the Kiszka orbit must first go through Josh, and he can be a force to be reckoned with, when he wants to be.

This is true for Jake, too, in a different way. He’s a quiet observer, and he’s too kind to ever really show contempt for anyone. Despite his shyness, he’s extremely attentive, always noticing things that others miss. He’s the calm to Josh’s storm, which makes perfect sense, when you think about it.

Both twins (and you assume Sam, although you weren’t paying any attention to him) took a shine to Phoebe the moment they met her, which was, coincidentally, the night Danny met her, too. You knew that for a fact, because you’d been there. It was at one of the band’s gigs in a dive bar, about eight months ago. Alex had dragged you along, sneaking you both through the back, much to your dismay. Once you heard them play properly, though, you had to admit they were quite good. Phoebe had been twirling around to the music like some sort of Stevie Nicks-esque goddess, and Danny couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He’d offered her a drink and introduced her to his brothers, to their great delight, and the rest is history.

Despite your being estranged from Danny and the Kiszkas and not getting to see much of her, the times you have spent with Phoebs are imprinted on your brain like a tattoo. She is endlessly kind, creative, sweet, and smart. You envy her, but you love her.

You’d nodded in response. “Yeah, dinner definitely helped.”

She’d smiled sweetly at you. “Let me know if I can do anything for you, babe.”

“Thanks, Phoebs. Still sore, but, you know. I’m actually about to have a shower, so hopefully that’ll help.”

Josh had gestured his head toward the bathroom as he pulled the plug from the sink. “Sam’s in there now. But we’re gonna head back outside, so it’s all yours next.”

You’d nodded.

Jake grabbed a couple of seltzers from the fridge and Josh followed him outside like a little puppy. Twins, you’d smiled to yourself. Like magnets.

Phoebe dried the last plate and stacked it next to the sink, hanging up the towel neatly, humming to herself. Not a care in the world. As she went to follow the boys outside, she turned back to face you, where you were still standing dumbly in the middle of the kitchen, off in your daydreams.

“Things still tense with you-know-who?” She’d asked you. Her voice is lilty, like a wind chime.

You shrugged. “Yeah, think so. Who knows, maybe we’ve trauma-bonded.”

She’d giggled. “Nothing brings people together like fear.”

You heard some semblance of truth in her words. Knowing Phoebe, she probably wasn’t being sarcastic. She has a very optimistic view of the world.

“I’ll be outside if you need me.” She’d smiled, and flitted out the door.

You’d sat in your room until you heard the sound of the bathroom door open, and the door to the bunk room close. You grabbed some fresh pajamas and strode across the living room, reenergised from your food, and anxious for the steam to relax your aching muscles.

As you went to grab the bathroom door handle, the door next to it opened, too. You saw Sam properly for the first time since he left the truck. His hair was wet, once again, and he was wearing pajama shorts and a white t-shirt. He didn’t look great, if you were honest. He had circles under his eyes he was moving very stiffly, as you imagined you were, too. You made steady eye contact, and held it for a moment, unsure how to proceed.

“Are you okay?” You’d whispered.

“Been better. But I’ll live.” He turned his body further toward you and gave a weird, small smile. “You?”

“I’m fine. Alex has been fussing over me but I’m really okay. Just a headache and sore all over.” You gestured to the back of your head. You were word-vomiting, because you didn’t know how to navigate this. This might have been the first civil conversation you and Sam had shared in three years, if you didn’t count the one in the truck earlier.

You’d looked him up and down. “Did you get hurt?”

He gave an extremely small, reluctant nod. Barely a tip of his chin. “There wasn’t a headrest on my side.”

You’d felt your face drain of color, and you gasped. “Your neck! Sam, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He frowned. “Couldn’t really feel it at the time.”

You were feeling so, so guilty. “I’m so fucking sorry.” You’d had to hold back the urge to place your hand on the side of his neck, to soothe him in some way.

“It’s alright, Y/N. Wasn’t your fault. Could’ve happened to anyone.”

You’d shaken your head. “I know. But I should’ve been paying more attention. Braked earlier. Checked to make sure you were alright after. I was so useless.” You felt a tear beginning to slide down your cheek, and now you had another emotion to contend with. On top of feeling like the worst person on the planet, being the one person Sam disliked so much, and also getting him into a car accident and giving him whiplash, now you were embarrassed for crying in front of him.

“We’ll be fine.” He’d tried to smile at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He’d padded away to the fridge to get himself some water as you quickly shut yourself in the bathroom. You were so conflicted. There was a part of you that wanted to scold yourself for worrying about Sam. He was going to be fine, just like you. No blood, no permanent injuries. Just a shitty thing you went through together, and that didn’t change the fact that he was a dick to you. But another part of you wanted to comfort him, share his pain. You did, after all, go through it together. And you did, unfortunately, still care about him, and want for his safety and happiness. You hated that. He obviously didn’t give a fuck about you, so why did you give a fuck about him?

You’re thinking the same thing now, as you stand in the same bathroom, staring at yourself in your bathing suit. Yesterday was horrible, but it’s over. You’re still sore, but it’s starting to fade. Would you and Sam go back to being mortal enemies now that a new sun has risen? You hope not, but at the same time, why wouldn’t you? Would it feel more normal if he started picking on you again? It’s not like you’ve made any kind of incredible, emotional breakthrough. You checked on each other last night, did your due diligence. Maybe that’s all it was.

A moment later, you get your answer.

“Can you hurry the fuck up in there? Some of us also need to use the bathroom.”

Your face immediately drops into a sneer. “Can’t you go upstairs?”

“No,” comes the reply, affronted.

You huff, pulling your dress back over your bathing suit, and swing open the door.

“You need to learn some patience.” You spit at Sam. God, maybe the prospect of a truce and then having it pulled out from under your feet was making you more fiery than normal.

“You need to learn how to be faster in the goddamn bathroom.” He fires back, looking you up and down with a nasty smirk. “This isn’t a fucking sorority.”

“Fuck you, Sam.” You growl and push past him, back to the safety of the sunroom.

Christ. Ceasefire over. This is war.

You get a hard ‘no’ from Alex as you begin to pull the cooler out of the back of Jake’s Jeep.

“Don’t you dare. You’re not carrying anything.” He scolds you, attempting to pry your fingers from the handle.

“I’m fine.” You groan. “Sam’s carrying a chair.” You add under your breath, not wanting to draw his attention.

“Sam’s not my sister.” Alex clips back. “If he wants to end up in a neck brace, that’s his prerogative.”

You smirk at that, finding the image of Sam in a neck brace crudely satisfying.

You relent, dropping your hand, and begin the short trek through the grass onto the sand.

You fucking love the beach. Like, insanely love it. If you had to pick your top three places on earth, it would be, in order: the beach, the Eiffel Tower (having never been, but you’ve always wanted to), and the Frankenmuth library.

The beach at Oscoda, on the shore of Lake Huron, which is so expansive it could easily be mistaken for an ocean, is your absolute favorite. You must’ve really blocked it out of your memory, because looking at it now, it’s even more beautiful than you remember. Sparkling blue water, almost-white sand, the little pier stretching out into the shallows. There are small children splashing about and parents sitting under umbrellas. It’s like heaven.

You hear Josh call from behind you. He and Sam are pulling things out of the cooler onto one of the picnic tables under the trees, which must have a perfect view of the water.

“Drink, Y/N?”

“Just one!” Alex calls from the car.

You roll your eyes, and Josh winks.

“Yes, please. Did we bring seltzers?” You ask, and he grins, pulling one out and walking toward you.

He hands you the drink and you both turn back to look over the water.

“Gorgeous, isn’t she?” He muses.

“I forgot how much so.” You reply dreamily.

Josh smirks at you cheekily, tugging at the hem of his tank top. “Race you in?”

You shriek and giggle as you slide off your sandals, whip your dress over your head, dump it onto the sand and your unopened can and sunglasses on top of it, and sprint for the water. Josh is barely a hair behind you, and as you both splash deeper into the waves, he grabs your waist and pulls you under with him.

You spend an extremely pleasant moment fully submerged, the ice-cold water piercing your skin in the best way possible, before emerging and whipping your hair back out of your eyes. Josh does the same.

“Oh, it’s so much warmer today!” He exclaims.

“Warmer?” You reply, shocked. “It’s freezing!”

He shakes his head. “It’s perfect.”

You grin, splashing each other and swimming around.

In your peripheral, you see Jake and Danny running for the water. They came with the girls in Ellie’s car, while Josh drove Jake’s, and must’ve arrived minutes after you, but they’ve certainly wasted no time. They shove each other as they approach, and eventually Danny’s sheer size causes Jake to tumble forward under the waves.

You all laugh as he pops back up, performing a much more impressive hair flick than Josh.

“This is what summer’s all about!” Danny declares. He paddles up to put an arm around your shoulders. “So glad you came, Y/N. Wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

You blush. “Thanks, Danny. I’m glad I’m here too.”

You look back toward the table. You see Alex and the girls heading toward your group, their feet just barely in the water. You’ve managed to get quite far from the shore in a short amount of time, but you can still just make out Sam, sitting at the table, sunglasses on. You wonder if he’s looking at you, before shaking the thought away. Why would he? Perhaps to make a mental list of things to tease you about. You scowl.

You all spend an enjoyable amount of time splashing around in the cool water. After a few minutes, you become completely acclimatized, and it now feels like a very pleasant temperature.

Danny and Jake get Phoebe and Eloise up on their shoulders and the girls have a very impressive chicken fight, with Ellie ending up getting thrown off, laughing all the way down. As he pulls her up out of the water, Jake complains that Danny has a height advantage, to which Ellie wraps her petite arms around Jake’s neck and says, “You’re the perfect height for me, baby. Wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Jake looks absolutely smitten with that, and they begin kissing, while Danny and Alex cat-call, and Josh makes fake gagging noises.

“Okay, food and drinks time!” Phoebe proclaims, and everyone follows her, trudging back toward the shore.

You hang back, wanting to enjoy the serenity alone for just a bit longer. You lay back and float, closing your eyes, and letting the gentle current pull you around a little. You think about Sam. You try not to, but that just makes it worse.

You hate that after all these years, less than two days in his proximity has brought back all these feelings. You want to hate him, because he hates you. But you can’t. You can’t erase the memory of the boy who gave you his ice cream when yours fell out of the cone, the boy who helped you ride a bike for the first time, the boy who let you have the bottom bunk even though he was scared, too. He’s still in there, and you saw a glimpse of him yesterday, when he put his hand on your knee and waited for you to breathe normally again. You’d never admit it to anyone, hell, you can barely admit it to yourself, but you know you’d do anything for another glimpse.

You hear Alex and Josh calling your name from the table and you bring yourself upright again.

“Coming!” You call back, as you begin to wade your way back into shore.

You catch Sam’s eye as you walk through the sand, sliding your sandals back onto your feet. At least, you think you do. It’s hard to tell with his sunglasses on. He has a very strange look on his face.

“What, no snarky comment?” You snap at him. “Not gonna tell me I have a wedgie or something?”

He schools his expression into something disdainful, and does something extremely childish. He pokes his tongue out at you.

You have to bite back the giggle that threatens to burst. You won that round.

You sit down at the table next to Danny and run your eyes over the spread in front of you. Another one of Josh’s famous cheeseboards, this one supplemented with fruit and cured meats, too. Your mouth waters. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot something, and you break out into a huge grin.

“Josh!” You exclaim, reaching for the jar of pickles. “Thank you! When did you even get these?”

Josh gives you a funny look, glancing around the table before giving you an equally enthusiastic smile.

“That’s my little secret.”

You grin as you twist the top open and pull out a spear, taking a huge, crunchy bite. You hum with contentment, your eyes slipping closed.

“Fuck, yeah.”

Everyone chuckles. Well, almost everyone.

Your little group spends a very pleasant couple of hours down at the beach. You all take another dip in the water, sunbathe a bit, and polish off the snacks. You help Danny and Phoebe build a ridiculously lopsided sand castle, before the water rises and a small wave pulls it all down.

Every time you try to sneak a glance at Sam, his eyes are on you, accompanied by a scowl. You quickly look away. He’s quiet and stays under the trees for most of the outing, and you can only assume he’s trying to behave in front of his brothers, while making his mental list of ways to torment you later. He’s impossible.

As you help Josh pack up, you can’t help yourself. You sneakily stare at Sam as he walks, alone, down to the water and submerges himself. You try not to look as he reemerges, face to the sky, as the water streams in tiny rivulets from the tips of his hair down his golden chest. You wish he didn’t look so damn good. And you wish you didn’t feel a pang of guilt and empathy when you notice how stiffly he’s still moving.

You let yourself dry out in the sun on the back porch when you return home. The girls sit by your sides, towels splayed out underneath you, as you let the rays warm your face and body.

Alex wordlessly places a bottle of sunscreen on the decking next to you, and you give him a dirty look.

After a little while of tanning and gossiping, Jake appears at the back door, drinks in hand.

“Ladies.” He offers, holding the glasses out for the three of you.

“Did you make us cocktails, baby?” Ellie exclaims as he leans down to give her a kiss.

“Sure did.” He brushes her hair back from her face. “Anything for my girl. Girls.” He blushes.

Their love-fest would almost be nauseating, if it wasn’t so damn perfect.

After your reluctance to come on this holiday, and the traumatic events of yesterday, you’re actually surprised at how happy you feel to be here, now. Sam could sulk in his bedroom and give you dirty looks all he wanted, but you’re resolved not to let it ruin your trip.

After another late dinner and a few rounds of beer pong in the backyard, everyone starts to say their goodnights and head off to their respective rooms. There seems to be a sleepy, sunkissed aura around the house. You do your rounds, thanking everyone for a lovely day (except Sam, obviously, who’s been mysteriously absent since dinner and presumably already in bed).

You decide it’s finally time to shower and wash the sand out of your hair, so you grab your pajamas and pad quietly through the dark living room. Not a second after you’ve shut yourself in the bathroom and pulled your dress over your head, there’s a knock on the door.

“Occupied!” You call.

The door opens anyway, and Sam steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it, eyes on you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You whisper-shout at him, covering your bathing suit with your arms.

He doesn’t reply, and you cannot, for the life of you, deduce the look on his face.

“Sam, this isn’t funny. Get the fuck out. I’m trying to shower.”

He’s silent, but he takes a step toward you, crowding in on you in the small space. You feel your pulse begin to quicken, a sneer plastered on your face. You feel… afraid? What is this?

“What are you doing?” You say again, but again he doesn’t reply. He is staring at you with so much intensity, you start to feel claustrophobic.

“Why were you staring at me at the beach? Have you been cataloging horrible things to say to me?” You smirk, mostly to yourself. You know you were right.

He doesn't respond, but you see a flicker of a smile on his mouth. He’s so close to you now. Your toes are almost touching.

“Why do you hate me, Sam? What the fuck happened to us?”

He takes a step closer to you, but he still doesn’t say anything.

You feel your heart begin to race. Is he about to hit you? Scream in your face?

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, for a third time.

He steps even closer, his knee bumping your thigh as he plants a foot between yours.

“Sam, what’s going on?” Your voice is barely a whisper now. You feel a strange fluttering in your throat.

Sam does something completely unexpected. He places a hand on your chest, pushing you back until your ass hits the bathroom counter. You just stare at him. He lifts other his hand to your chin, ghosting his fingertips across your bottom lip. You let out a small gasp. In the millisecond that your lips are open, he crams his two middle fingers into your mouth.

“Can you just shut up for. One. Fucking. Second?”

Your eyes are wide as saucers, staring into his. You nod.

He breathes a deep sigh, as if what he’s about to tell you is physically painful for him. As if he hasn’t physically restrained you. “I was staring at you at the beach, because…” he frowns, and runs his eyes down your body. “Because you look so fucking hot in that bathing suit."

You take in a sharp breath around his fingers. You don’t know how to react to what he’s saying. He thought you were hot?

“Did you wear that just to spite me?” He’s almost growling at you.

You shake your head. Your saliva is starting to drip down your chin, but something about it is obscenely erotic. Your heart is hammering in your chest. You don’t have a single clue what is transpiring between the two of you at this current moment. All you know is that you don’t want him to remove his hand. He’s completely invading your senses. Everything is just Sam. Sam. Sam.

“I fucking hate what you do to me.” He breathes, looking down at the floor.

You just stare at the top of his head. It’s as if he’s forgotten that you can’t respond. You can feel the redness burning in your cheeks, sweat beading on your neck, heartbeat thundering under his palm. Your arms have dropped, limp by your sides.

He looks up at you again. You can see that his breathing has sped up. His pupils are blown wide. Is Sam Kiszka turned on by you?

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He says it like he’s angry about it.

You don’t even recognize the sound coming out of you when you whimper, and he withdraws his fingers from your mouth. They’re dripping with your spit, and he slides his hand down to wrap them loosely around your throat. His eyes flick between yours, and for a split second, he looks earnest.

“Do you want this?”

You don’t even take a second to think before breathing, “Yes.”

His mouth crashes down on yours, hard. It’s all teeth and tongue, and before you can even blink, you’re reciprocating. What the fuck is happening? You’re so turned on, every part of you that connects with him is tingling.

His grip on your throat becomes tighter, and his other hand slides down your stomach to grip at your hip, his long fingers digging into your skin. It hurts deliciously.

You flail your arms until one of your hands is knotted firmly in his hair, the other gripping the nape of his neck.

You make a small noise into his mouth and he hums in agreement. Roughly, and without ceremony, he slides his hand down to palm at your breast, as his lips drag across your jaw and down your neck. He bites down, hard. You whimper.

“Fuck.” He murmurs into your skin.

You can feel his erection pressing into your hipbone, and in a startling moment of clarity, you realize that you’re kissing Sam. Your Sam. This can’t be real.

He slides the hand on your hip around to grab a handful of your ass, as the other pushes into the front of your bikini bottoms. He roughly circles your clit with his fingertips as he brings his mouth back to yours, sinking his teeth into your lip. You clench your jaw to keep from whining.

You grip his forearm as he continues to touch you, sliding his fingers through you before pushing them inside. He pumps relentlessly as his thumb takes over your clit, his eyes darting between yours.

You moan, throwing your head back and lowering your arms to grip the edge of the counter. Fuck, this feels so good.

You want to touch him, too, but you can’t. You’re too wrapped up in your own bliss.

You feel yourself begin to clench around his fingers and you lean your face down into his neck, moaning breathily into his ear.

“You gonna come for me?” He grunts.

You make an affirmative noise in the form of a whine as you unravel, your limbs shaking and teeth sinking into his collarbone.

You lean against him, panting, for a few moments, before he abruptly removes his hand from you. He wipes his fingers on his jeans and steps away.

“Do you want -” You begin, but he cuts you off.

“No.” He frowns, turns, and leaves.

You lean back into the counter, pulse still racing, legs heavy, as you try to piece together what’s just happened. Sam just gave you the fastest orgasm of your life, and then walked out, with no explanation.

What the fuck was that?

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf @profitofthedune @sinarainbows @klarxtr @jakesgrapejuice @gretavangroupie @mackalah @clairesjointshurt @writingcold @alwaysonthemend @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @hi-hi-hello11 @dont-go-home-without-me @gvfpal @freefallthoughts @m0uthfl13s @violet-hayes @godly-sinsx

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#greta van fleet #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #this is fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fic #jake kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #sam gvf #gvf smut

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 1 year

Text

Ivy| chapter eight

summary: Rooster and you saving each other.

listen to: Two ghosts- Harry Styles | My kind of woman - Marc de Marco (playlist here)

warning: none for this chapter, maybe a scary flight but that's it.

word count: 3k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fii!!

“Bye, sweetheart,” Jake muttered against your lips as you still lay on the bed without any clothes on.

He’d told you about having to do something on Sunday, you weren’t paying much attention to him though since he was ripping your clothes off while he was working bruises on your chest with his mouth as he told you about it.

“You have to go?” you whimpered as you pressed your cheek further into your pillow.

“I told you, I need to do some things,” Jake said as he watched you softly while he sat on the bed, his fingers trailing your body, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

You frowned. You didn’t like half-ass answers, you’d inherited that from your father. If you weren’t basking in the sun, still too deep in the post-orgasmic haze, you would’ve asked more but you could only mutter a small ‘I hate you’. Jake snorted softly before he kissed your temple and walked away.

By the time you woke up thanks to the insistent knocking on the door, the sun was long gone from your bed as you passed a hand through your hair and examined your room, you had no idea where you’d left your phone. It seemed like it’d been a while since Jake had left but you wondered if he’d managed to finish his errands and had come to see you again.

You sighed as the knocking continued before deciding to put on quickly an oversize shirt and run downstairs to answer the door. You walked through the kitchen to find the red berries smoothie Jake had left for you on the kitchen table, it had a note next to it.

‘Your salmon is in the oven.

Enjoy.

J. ’

You smiled as you walked through the main hall towards the door, he didn’t say he would be back soon but you guessed that he might’ve. Sunday was your free day, the mission still allowed free days but it would be over soon. It’d been over a month, and as soon as week nine hit, there won’t be any free days. No more late mornings with Jake, the warm fuzzy feeling you felt on your skin when you woke up late with him.

Part of you wondered if he had something planned for the last few Sundays you had together. Maybe this was it.

You opened the door with a smile on your face and then it dropped. There he was, those sad caramel eyes staring back at you after you’d kicked him out of your house the day prior.

“No,” was the only that could leave your lips as you quickly threw the door in his face.

You quickly covered the door with your back as your chest heaved, you weren’t sure what you were so afraid of as you heard Rooster coming closer to the door.

“I’m not letting you in,” you finally breathed as the door creaked by the weight of Rooster’s arms over it as he waited for you, praying that you would let him in.

“Brat,”

“I mean it, Rooster,” you warned him.

Rooster closed his eyes. He imagined your face by the way you were talking to him, the way your voice cracked. He considered doing this yesterday as he drove to the base but as he watched you from afar in training, he noticed the soft dark circles under your eyes, the puffiness of your eyes; he knew he shouldn’t. It had shaken you more than he realized. He was ready to pour his heart out and only then he realized how much it could hurt you.

How much was this hurting you?

He closed his eyes tight. He hoped that this wasn’t another mistake in your books.

“I miss you,” he admits.

You let out a shaky breath, tears pooling in your eyes as you hold the door with your body.

“We can’t be together,”

Your body tightened as you say it. You’d said it so many times before, it always hurt but you aren’t sure why this one hurt more than the others. It hurts Bradley more than the others too. His body felt too heavy, his chest was too heavy for him to move, and soon he was collapsing on the floor, letting out a heavy breath as tears pooled in his eyes.

“y/n,” your name sounds like a prayer coming from his lips. Your eyebrows furrow as you listen to him, he usually doesn’t call you by your first name. His voice trembling slightly. “I just wished you would stand with me. I’ve lost everything and now I’m losing you,” He sniffed as tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

It breaks you. You fall to the floor next to him, on the opposite side of the door, somehow feeling closer than in the past few weeks, than in the past few months. It sounds and feels like something you used to have.

“I, I wish I could stand with you Bradley,” you answered honestly, big fat tears falling from your eyes, you’re tired of crying, so, so tired.

He can feel it too, how tired you are. How much of a toll this has taken for you but he doesn’t say anything about it. Tongue-tied like you’d never known each other, talking like you were strangers. This wasn’t you.

“Let me in,” he pleaded, he wants to kiss it better. He wants to make it better for both of you.

With a beat of silence, Bradley believes that you might even be reconsidering, this feels like you’re closer than before than ever before since your relationship broke down. You don’t. No, no for the mere fact that when you close your eyes you can still see the hole in the wall, the way his eyes were blazing with hatred, and the smell of booze.

“Go home, Bradley,” you whispered, voice strained as the sun enters the main living room, the shadow of the door that you’re standing behind makes you feel cold, maybe it’s what you’re telling him right now.

“You are my home,” he insists, tearing you apart as he tried to get closer to the door as if he wanted to escape the sun that was falling over him. He shivered, even in the sun, as tears streamed down his face. “Please, baby,” he whispered.

He knew he had messed up. He had said some things he shouldn't have and do some things he regretted. But he was willing to do whatever it took to make it right, to show you that he loved you and that he was sorry.

The minutes ticked by like hours, and he wondered if you would ever forgive him but you can’t do this. You can’t.

“Goodbye, Bradley,”

“Brat, let me in,” his voice louder this time, making you flinch slightly as you stand up.

“Brad-”

A cry rips through his throat. “I’m asking you to save me,” he stated, defeated as he placed his hand over the door, but you can’t. He hears the way you’re sobbing as you ran to your room, the steps of your feet on the floor, and your tears falling on them.

Four days later, neither Bradley nor you talked about what happened. You didn’t tell Jake what had happened, not after he arrived a few hours later after Bradley had left, a bouquet in his hand, a surprise that you’d expected.

You did your best to your abilities to hide the pain you were going through, you were happy, and you were happy with Jake. You loved the warm feeling that flooded your body each time you saw him, you loved the way he holds you close to his body, and you love the way your heart feels when he was around.

And yet you can’t shake Rooster’s sad eyes from your mind.

That’s why as you fly through the terrain, you aren’t even communicating with Rooster that much. Short phrases, code words, nothing more and nothing less than what’s needed. Rooster doesn’t seem to mind, either way, if you were angry with each other you always were good partners.

You don’t think about it too much as you fly through the setup Maverick planned and then faced Maverick and Halo as you did a dog-fight round. The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink as you soared through the air once you finished.

It was the first time in the last few days that you’d been more at peace. Since your break-up with Rooster, your life seemed to be spiraling out of control, you didn’t even understand yourself these days. The persona that you had before had crumbled in the last few months, even more, when you began to be with Jake, and now after kissing Bradley you weren’t even sure what you were doing. But being there, at this moment, everything seemed to fade away.

The only thing that mattered was the vast expanse of the sky in front of you. You took a deep breath as you gazed at the sky around you. Maybe Ice was looking at you from above, you thought. When you were younger and flying in a commercial plane, your mother always insisted that you looked for your father in the sky. You often looked for your father when you flew with him. After his death you hadn’t, not until now. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you thought about him.

“Brat, Rooster, Halo,” Maverick stated on your earpiece, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Return to base, we’ll check the footage tomorrow,”

“Copy,” you stated as you turned the plane around.

Rooster, Maverick, and Halo had a lower latitude than you already. If you could, you would’ve stayed longer, you didn’t want to get down yet, you wanted a little bit more peace.

You sighed as you started to lower your altitude but then you frowned as you saw something in front of you. You squinted your eyes and then you felt your stomach dropping. The first bird crashed against the glass as you tried to dodge it, the second bird was not so lucky, it flew right to your left engine.

“Fuck,” you cursed loudly, the engine sputtered, and the plane started to shake violently as you stared at your instrument cluster lighting up.

Bradley was the first one to hear it. “What was that?” he asked, frowning as he looked back at your plane struggling in the air.

“Brat?” Maverick asked concerned as he maneuvered his place to be right next to you in a matter of seconds. “Brat, talk to me,”

“Engine failure, my left engine is…” you held your breath as you tried to control the plane while pressing the buttons on the board, extinguishing the fire. It didn’t seem to help, nothing seemed to help. Your brain was too busy planning the situation, following instructions, and not panicking but your heart, you could feel it in your ears, all you could hear was your heartbeat. “I’m going to climb,” you answered.

“Brat it’s on fire!” Maverick stated the anguish in his voice palpable as he stared at the plane helplessly. Rooster was quickly by his side as he stared at the plane in horror.

“Throttling back, shutting off fuel. Extinguishing fire,” you said firmly as you kept following the instructions you knew by heart.

Everyone in the training room watched helplessly. Jake was the one closer to the screen, his brows furrowed as he stood up, powerless. All he could do was watch, his heart on his throat as his eyes scanned the screen in front of him. His breathing was harsh as he heard your voice.

“Your engine,” Rooster breathed out, he couldn’t speak.

“It’s still spinning. Restarting,” you answered, knowing what he meant. You continued with the plan, pulling back on the throttle and activating the fire extinguisher switch but your plane began to shake violently. “Shit,” you cursed as you realized that nothing was working.

Fear began to trickle through your body, everything felt like it was closing in on you, and you couldn’t breathe. You closed your eyes for a few seconds as you forced the plane to maintain the altitude but it was failing, you were going to crash if you didn’t fix this fast. You closed your eyes, you saw both of their eyes. Sea-foam green and Caramel brown.

“Try again,” Maverick insisted, you looked back for a second at him and then back at your board.

“Trying,” you answered back as you held onto the control and pulled back on the throttle, activating the fire extinguisher switch. And then it cleared up, you managed to regain control, and the plane stopped shaking but it wasn’t stable. It didn’t matter honestly, you were still in the air. “It’s working,” you breathed out, your heart in your throat as you review your board. “I’m okay,”

“That’s my girl,” Jake whispered to himself as he watched how you maneuvered the plane back to the runway.

People cheered in the room, Bob and Phoenix hugging each other while Jake smiled at the screen. Javy patted him heavily on his shoulder as he smiled happily.

Jake was the first one to catch you as you climbed off the F-18, your whole body was drenched in sweat as Jake held your body close to his before a medical team came down for you. You insisted that you didn’t need to go to the infirmary, Cyclone said that if you didn’t lay on the gurney you would be ousted from the mission.

The doctors didn’t see anything to worry about, thankfully. At least until you threw up approximately three minutes into your exam.

Hangman held your hair as you hurled while Phoenix passed you the trash can as quickly as she could. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you finished and you whipped your mouth haphazardly as the doctors gazed back at you concern clouding their features, Phoenix and Bob were looking at you in the same way but then Hangman, his brows were furrowed, and everything but you could still see it, that damn hint of a smirk.

You didn’t have a concussion, you knew you didn’t but they still wanted to keep you for observation. You rolled your eyes as you insisted that you were fine, Hangman disagreed with you and said he was keeping you company. You acted annoyed but still held his hand tightly as the doctors continued to examine you.

Deep inside you, you knew why you’d throw up but you didn’t want to say it to anybody, except the person that quickly burst into the infirmary.

Your eyes met those sweet caramel eyes and you finally felt like the adrenaline left your body. His eyes were red, you noticed right away, he still looked handsome despite the sorrow drawn on his face.

“Hey,” he said as he walked slowly towards you. He didn’t say it to Jake, Phoenix, or Bob. It was just the two of you in the room.

“Hi,” you replied, a knot in your throat.

Jake nodded softly as he watched the interaction. Ever since he’d met you, he knew he felt something for you. You took his breath away ever since he’d lay eyes on you. But then again, you’d always look at Rooster in a particular way, so he stood there, watching the two of you gazing at each other as no one else would look at someone.

Jake understood it, though. He loved you so much that he understood it.

“Let’s give them some space,” he whispered to Phoenix and Bob, your brows furrowed for a second as you looked at Jake letting go of your hand after he squeezed you. He looked at you lovingly, but you could still see the pain in his eyes but you didn’t stop him. You couldn’t.

Phoenix, Bob, and Jake walked out of the room, leaving you alone with Rooster. He sighed as he got closer, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched him slowly sitting next to you on the bed. He laid his back against the wall, and you stayed in place for a moment, too afraid to move. You could feel the heat coming from his body, he always ran hot.

But you still don’t dare to look at him as he snakes a hand to yours, your eyes look down at his hand over yours, and holding it softly, you press your teeth to the inside of your cheek. You both know how scary this was. It was always scary when there was a problem with your plane, you’d discussed it so many times before, the memory of Goose hanging over your head. It was impossible not to think about him.

“Put your head right here,” he whispered, you hold your breath for a moment.

You let out a soft breath as you pushed yourself from the edge of the hospital bed, Rooster wraps his arms around you as you sit against his tight and rest your head over his chest. Rooster closes his eyes as he takes your hand, his fingers curled around yours, squeezing against your fist softly.

He knows you. He didn’t feel like he could exactly read you since your breakup, but now he could, he could see you again and you could too. He knew it, you were letting him hold you like before. He kisses the top of your head, holding you tight. You can listen to his heartbeat, like when you heard it before you went to sleep. It’s calm, steady. You recalled why you loved him so much, he was a constant in your life, he always pulled you back to earth.

You close your eyes, the hole in the wall isn't the only thing you see anymore when you think of him. You know it has changed.

“I still have feelings for you,” you said gently.

It’s bittersweet to hear it, to finally have to say it. Rooster only nods softly, it doesn’t feel as good to hear it under these circumstances, but his lips still quirked up softly.

“I know,”

***

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bigwishes · 1 year

Note

Since I heard you’ve got a few of those vials back in stock - perhaps I could get some for this new group of lads I’ve taken on for the year. Hopefully it’ll give my team the edge!

Sure thing coach! anything for a friend. Although surely you know that players "enhancing" themselves never goes the way they want it to, but no matter all your players have already picked out a vial from the shop.

Thought they'd all get the same vial? nah not enough of this stuff to go around but why dont we check in with some of your players to see how they are going.

First there is Kyle, a block you were hoping to be your star player of the season, 7ft tall with the same amount of muscle as some of the blokes training for Mr Olympia! all at the age of 24, the dude sure was going places on the field, playing ruby he could basically just carry the ball from one side of the field to the other, anyone who'd try to tackle him would basically just bounce right off. I see he took a vial called "Prince Power". A pretty unusal choice for a guy that massive to pick up a vial like this but hey who am I to judge.

I see Kyle has shrunk down from 7ft to 5 and all that muscle seems to have evaporated. I guess he didn't read the back of the bottle or maybe he wanted a change of scene because "Prince Power" turns whoever drinks it into a power bottom who drools at the smell of another mans musk and needs a big strong knight in shining armour to come rescue him from practically anything...yeah he might be useless on the field now, unless you want to take one of the enemy players off the field by having Kyle here..."distract" him behind the goals half way through the game.

We of course also have Tyler, a bloke who only really started trying to get big when you signed him for his skills. 22 and 5.5ft the guy wasn't much wider than a twig which is why I think "Wall 'o' Mass" caught his eye, very popular in the muscle fetish community but providing Tyler is good at math he should be able to work out the correct dosage lets check on him now.

Wow he has really beefed all the way up in a matter of hours, good for him, 1/4 of a bottle was a good starting point now he can-.....what's that? Tyler took more? well I'm sure he didn't- oh, he wanted to be bigger than Kyle and be the new star player? SO HE DRANK THE WHOLE BOTTLE? man someone get this man a couch to get comfortable because I give it 40 minutes before he is swollen into a massive meathead who is unable to move, well the vial wasn't called "Wall 'o' Mass" for nothing, drinking the whole thing means you'll turn into a bodybuilder so big all you can do is flex, a literal wall of mass.

Boy will he be kicking himself when he finds out what happened to Kyle, bro threw away his mobility for nothing.

-------

What about Jake? well Jake did the smart thing, he wanted enough mass to be able to move freely but also drop anyone who tried to tackle him, so I sent him over to our Bear section, although I can't tell you which one he took I was busy taking stock in the back.

The man is definitely going through some changes, nice muscle growth definition, I see he has become insanely hairy. What else will happen? well let's check which one he took now that I'm free, hmmm, oh man, none of your players are fucking smart are they bro, Jake could have taken anything off the shelf to get the results he wanted but he had to take "Wild Bear". No that doesn't mean he's a bear with a wild partying side. Let's put it this way man, I'd hide any cans of salmon you got lying around and maybe send animal control around to his house in the morning, looks like the zoo will be getting a new exhibit and you'll be looking for a new player.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #muscle #male tf #reality change #tf story #gay transformation

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cannibalhellhound · 29 days

Text

I have more Selkie au drawings >:D

Baby Jake and Baby Bradley

JUST TO MAKE IT CLEAR! This is based on Trans! Mav. You can ignore it ig but it might not make sense.

Jake's onesie is not his actual pelt nor pattern in the first picture but it is in the baby sketch.

Bradley is a really small bearded seal with the lanugo (baby coloring and fur) of a ringed seal. This is only because after googling and realizing that bearded seal (Goose) pups are the size of an adult ringed seal (Carole), I was horrified by what I did to poor Carole so now Bradbrad is tiny baby and will grow later.

Jake is a small leopard seal because Ice and Mav's pelts are similar. As a newborn he was lighter and his muzzle black.

Their plushies are their parents first courting gifts. Jake's is a salmon and baby Brad's is a squid (Carole absolutely threw it at Goose and covered him in ink).

Bonus baby Nat because I keep getting ideas. She's a sea lion.

#selkie au #this has taken over my brain #it's just seals now #pinnipeds #selkies #Air Gays™#jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanart #top gun maverick #mavdad #icepops #slidad #trans pete maverick mitchell

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age-of-greta · 6 months

Text

(Don’t Fear) The Reaper

Author’s note: hi!!! Week 3 of our spooky Halloween series here!! It’s Sammy’s turn! Next part will be out on the 30th at midnight, it’s longggggggg hehehe. Pls ignore the typos and enjoy :)) vibes!

Pairing: Sam x reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, heavy petting, minors DNI

Word count: 4.2k

It was cold. That was the first thing you noticed as you stepped out of Poppy’s car. The air was thicker with the fog machines going off everywhere, some Rob Zombie song was playing quite loudly in the background, and laser lights were everywhere. But you were cold and slightly irritated. Poppy had dragged you here to this haunted house with her tonight so she could be with her boyfriend, Josh. You liked Josh, you really did- but being around Josh meant being around all of them too. They were just simply too extroverted for your liking. In group settings you felt strange and out of place. They were always so on, something that Poppy had adapted to well. You, not so much. You and Poppy had been best friends for years, and when she met Josh all those months ago you were truly happy for her. Finally, a decent guy. She absolutely deserved it, she deserved the world, and Josh could give that to her. She wanted you to go everywhere with them, which stuck out to you as odd at first. You didn’t want to third wheel. However, once you finally got the hang of things you realized that Josh didn’t go anywhere hardly without his brothers. Alas, you were all giant third wheels that would eventually turn into a group dynamic. In these group hangout sessions you kept to yourself mostly, you had guessed you were shy. There had been plenty of times you had shown another side to you, but that always involved alcohol. Perhaps you felt so strange because you always felt two eyes that found you. You weren’t sure if you were being dramatic or imagining it, but Sam Kiszka always stared at you. You positively could not figure out why. He never even spoke to you, unless you were both inebriated- then you two carried on like you had known each other for years. However, there was this one night. You were both drinking and he kissed you. Without rhyme or reason. You wondered if you hallucinated it. He never spoke of it and you never told anyone. Despite his online persona, Sam was relatively quiet too. Often observing before talking unless it had to do with their music. He was probably the reason you felt so uptight tonight, but you didn’t know how to tell Poppy that. It would sound strange and delusional.

Now you fumbled with your fingers as Poppy scanned the crowd for Josh and company. You glanced down at your Doc’s, you should have worn thicker socks. You could feel a blister begging to begin. You stopped and bent down, tucking your light wash jeans into the spot where your boot was rubbing you. It felt better, but now you had to speed walk to catch up with Poppy. You followed her bright salmon colored vest through the crowd and the mass of blonde curls. She was always so bright and cheery in contrast to your black bodysuit that you stupidly didn’t wear a jacket with. At least there were heaters in the line portion.

“Josh!” You heard Poppy let out a squeal as she ran and embraced him. It had only been a week since she last saw him, but it looked like a reunification from war.

Then you saw the whole gang. Jake in his typical array of silver necklaces, Danny with his perfect curls, Josh in all white like a cult leader, and Sam with his hands in his pockets, his eyes had already found you.

A spark and a scream had jostled you away from your thoughts. You jumped as a clown in sliding knee pads continued to harass you.

“Fuck.” You muttered as the clown got right up in your face. “Okay, thanks for that.”

Fucking clowns.

Your face got slightly red as everyone had seen that interaction.

“He almost got ya didn’t he!” Danny yelled as you approached the group.

You let out a half laugh. “Yeah, he did.”

“Isn’t this place marvelous? Look at that giant spider! Just spectacular effects. Shall we get in line? We have everyone’s tickets.” Josh says, turning his head in awe.

“Lead the way babe!” Poppy says, taking his hand.

They lead the pact as you try and squeeze to be near Poppy, but a conversation from Jake doesn’t allow that.

“New boots?” He asks, as he matches your stride.

“They are- and I am stupid enough to try and break them in here.” You reply with a laugh.

“Ah that shit is rough. That’s why I wear my shoes until they are quite literally bursting at the seams. I hate breaking in shoes.”

“Yeah I have a feeling you will be investing in blister patches.” Danny says, jumping into the conversation.

“Thankfully I already have some.” You say, as you all get into line. It was Josh and Poppy, Danny, Jake, you, then Sam. You had hoped that Poppy would have pulled you up there with her, but she was too engulfed with Josh to pay attention. You were on your own.

“So, how was the festival?” You ask, generally to make small talk.

“It was great. There were so many people there it was a little overwhelming honestly.” Danny said, throwing his hand through his hair.

“Yeah way more than we anticipated. It ended up being electrifying, but at the beginning we were shitting bricks. Sam even took a little tumble on stage.” Jake said with a smirk as he looked at his younger brother.

Sam huffed. “Never going to let that one go- are you?”

“No.” Jake replied with a laugh. “But yeah, overall really good. Great weather, astounding atmosphere, plenty of drinks. Speaking of..” he trailed off and reached over to get his twin’s attention. “Shooters?”

Josh’s smile grew wide. “Absolutely dear brother. Alas, Daniel and I are DD-ing so only one for us.”

Josh passed around the shots, sending them down the line. Jake handed you two and raised his brow, silently asking if you were doing one.

“Fuck it.” You said with a nod.

You turned around to give one to Sam. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He said, taking the small bottle from your hand. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You replied back with a small smile.

Then you all tried to secretly ingest your shot, but doing anything with them secretly was a challenge. You had gotten strange looks from everyone else in line. You never knew if it was because they were famous or slightly obnoxious when drunk. Oh well.

As the line grew shorter you began to feel anxious. You loved going to haunted houses, but typically you held onto Poppy. Now you were going to have to fight your way up there to her. Inevitably, everyone took another shot minus Josh and Danny. You could see the front now, you had retreated back to quietness as Jake and Danny carried on a conversation about some new project they were working on. Leaving you and Sam to stand in silence. You decided to try and break the ice.

“Have you been to this place before?” You turn to him and ask.

He seems off in his own world until he realizes you’re actually speaking to him. “No I haven’t. Last year we were touring around this time. Didn’t have a lot of free time for festivities and all. Have you been here?”

You shake your head. “Nope. It looks cool though. I just hope there aren't a lot of strobe lights, they make me dizzy.”

He cracked a smile. “You would hate our shows then.”

“Oh shit!” You heard Poppy giggle out.

You shot your head towards her and Josh who were giggling at one another.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“It’s two at a time!” Poppy yells back to you. “They won’t let more than two go in together!”

Jake immediately links arms with Danny. “Dibs on Daniel!”

You feel your stomach drop. That means it’s you and Sam, by yourselves. Fuck.

You slowly inch yourselves closer and closer to the front. Until before you know it Poppy and Josh go in, her arms nervously linked with his. You hear her scream immediately when they shut the doors. Jake and Danny move up to the front and Jake gives you a salute.

“See ya on the other side.” Then they go in.

Finally, it’s just you and Sam standing there awkwardly under the red neon blinking signs.

“Hello madam! Are you ready to experience the horrors behind this door?” A tall man in a twisted up clown mask asks you as he leans down close to your face. “Mhmmmm she is pretty. They’ll like her back there a whole lot. Better hope your boyfriend holds onto you real tight!”

You glance over at Sam who is looking at the clown man entirely unamused.

Fucking clowns.

“Tough crowd tonight. Let’s see how long it takes one of you to scream.” The clown yells, opening the doors of the haunted house.

It’s smoky and pitch black inside. You glance over at Sam who gives you a shrug before heading inside. You two take a few steps in before the door shuts behind you. Immediately your senses are assaulted with loud sirens as three masked figures pop out of the shadows. Pure reflexes kick in and you grab onto Sam’s arm. You thought this might annoy him, but there was no way you could go through this without holding onto someone. If he did mind, he didn’t show it. He continued to lead the way through the darkness. You made it to the first room, a ghastly kitchen seen with blood and guts splattered. Sam laughed a little at the pig chef that jumped out from behind the door. You swore you could hear Poppy scream from what sounded like a few feet away. Sam continued to lead you through rooms full of animatronics, loud noises, screaming actors, and plenty of props. You were a little frightened, but it was a fun haunted house. You were having a good time until you entered a room where immediately you see a strobe light going off. You closed your eyes trying to brace yourself from the flashing lights. Then something strange happened. You feel Sam grab you and squeeze slightly with his free hand. He guides you out of the room rather quickly, but not before a masked bloody bunny jumps out and screams at you.

As you enter the next room you can faintly hear Jake’s voice. You must have caught up with everyone.

“You okay?” Sam leans down and whispers in your ear.

His breath on your neck raises goosebumps, but you can’t fully understand why.

You look up at him and nod, unable to figure out what to say.

“Ah there they are!” You hear Poppy’s voice ring from up ahead.

Just ahead in the distance you can see everyone else halting to wait on you. It’s still dark, only illuminated by red lights. You can see Jake, he raises his eyebrows at Sam and shoots a smirk as you two approach. Danny does something similar.

“Thank God, Sam has her. Okay now that we are all together again, are we ready?” Poppy says looking back.

“Onward!” Jake yells in a moderate British accent.

Even though you’re in your group again, you still clutch Sam’s arm.

It seems as if you all have made it to the last leg of the haunted house. In a group setting, everything seemed less intimidating. Jake and Danny couldn’t take a single aspect of it seriously, that made you giggle. Poppy still shrieked and laughed with Josh at every turn. She was so happy with him. You loved that for her. You had made it to a tunnel where it was insanely dark. You could only hear your friends in front of you. But you also heard masked figures screaming and growling.

“The door is shut! What the fuck!” Poppy yelled out, attempting to lead the group out.

“Welcome to hell.” Jake laughed.

You stood around but could feel someone standing directly behind you. You still couldn’t see. Then, you felt someone grab your shoulder and pull you. You yelped as they jerked you back away from Sam in the pitch black.

“Hey what the fuck! Let me go!” You yelled trying to find your way back. Once you had been dragged to the back a split second later, a switch flipped and neon lights lit up the room to reveal a carnival tunnel. A masked bloody clown had pulled you back around two feet away from everyone else. As soon as your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw Sam making a beeline for you. He looked, angry?

“The fuck is your problem?” He spat, still barreling towards you.

Is he yelling at you?

You stood confused for a second until he reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you back to him.

“Don’t fucking touch her. You don’t just grab and pull people.” Sam said to the masked clown, taking you back to the group.

The clown just started laughing and shrugging.

Fucking clowns.

“Oop. Sammy’s pissed!” Josh says with a laugh.

Then the door opens and you’re all herded outside into a tiny maze. Sammy still had a hold of your hand. It made you… nervous. You could feel your hand getting clammy, but you tried to ignore it. Through the maze you were met with more actors, props, and loud noises. Finally, you knew you had made it to the end when Leatherface began to chase you out with a chainsaw. Everyone roared with laughter when you all had cleared the weapon wielding maniac.

“I’ve got to say. That was pretty damn fun.” Josh said, clapping his hands and laughing.

“It was! We should go to the bonfire over there!” Poppy exclaims, matching Josh’s energy.

“That’s a yes, because they have spiked cider.” Jake replies.

“It was fun, but what in the hell happened in the tunnel?” Danny asks, perplexed looking towards you and Sam.

You hadn’t realized, but you were still holding hands. Immediately you let go and wiped your hand on your jeans, trying to play it cool.

“I don’t know. That fucking clown literally yanked me back and dragged me by my shoulders.” You said, through a laugh.

“I thought they weren't supposed to touch you?” Poppy said, puzzled.

“They aren’t.” Sam said, finally speaking. “What in the hell goes through someone’s head to yank another human like that? He pulled her so hard. It was ridiculous.”

Josh chewed on his cheek trying to hide a smile while Jake snickered at the ground.

What was so funny?

“Yeah, that's a bit much. Glad you were there Sam.” Danny says, with a shit eating grin.

Sam rolled his eyes and you stood there unsure of what to say.

The bonfire was interesting. There weren’t horror characters there, just a lot of people drinking. There were hay bales by the fire, which is where you and Poppy sat while the boys went off to get drinks and snacks.

“So… how was going through with Sam?” Poppy asked you, innocuously.

You shrugged at her. “I felt bad that I grabbed onto him. I’m sure he felt strange, but there was no way I was going through by myself.”

Poppy let out a laugh. “I don’t think he minded too much.”

Before you can ask her what she means Josh appears with a drink for Poppy and a bag of popcorn.

“Sam has yours.” Josh says to you with a smile.

You turn your head and see Sam carrying two drinks and a bag of popcorn. He sits on the hay bale next to Poppy. You get up, letting Josh have your spot and sit next to Sam.

“Thank you.” You say, taking the cup from Sam.

“You’re welcome.” He starts. “You can have some popcorn too, I won’t eat the whole bag.”

“Okay, thanks.” You say, reaching in to grab some.

You two sit in silence for a moment while you watch Jake and Danny find their seats on the hay bale next to you.

“This is so good.” You say, sipping the cold spiked cider.

“Yeah. You can tell it’s fresh. None of that artificial shit.” Sam offers in response.

“Sorry I grabbed onto you like that in there. I love haunted houses, they just make me anxious sometimes.” You say, trying not to sound weird.

Sam lets out a small laugh. “It’s okay. I’m the same way. I’m glad you were my partner. It would have been embarrassing to hold onto Daniel and too obnoxious to go in with Jake.”

You laugh at that and sip your cider. You were having a fun time. Maybe you had been too judgmental about doing things with them, letting your own anxieties get in the way. You enjoyed being around Sam, he just made you feel nervous. You couldn’t figure out why, he had always been nothing but nice to you.

Conversations began to flow and so did more drinks. You all had polished off the shooters and Josh and Poppy got cozy together. Inevitably, you had started to feel the alcohol and came out of your shell, having a lively conversation with Jake and Danny about Taco Bell.

“Baja blasts are so gross! It tastes like cotton candy acid!” You say giggling.

“Blasphemy! Usually I love it when you drink, because you’re fun. But tonight you speak nothing but blasphemy!” Jake practically yells.

“Okay okay. Sorry to kill these vibes but I think Pops and I are going to head out. Danny, would you mind driving y/n home?”

“Yeah of course.” Danny responds, throwing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Your stomach sinks. You had very seldom been alone with them without Poppy as a buffer. You hoped you weren’t a burden.

“Call me tomorrow!” Poppy states, giving you a small hug before running off with Josh.

“Have fun you crazy kids!” Jake yells at them.

You all watch them walk off. Then Jake nudges Danny and smirks at Sam. “We’re going to grab some more drinks.”

Then, it’s just you and Sam again.

“They’re going to be so sick in the morning.” Sam says with a small smile.

“Yeah I can imagine. You guys can drink like tanks.”

Sam laughs. “Thank you?”

“Just being honest. Speaking of, sorry you’re pawned off on me again. If you want to go grab drinks with them you’re more than welcome to.”

Sam frowns at you. “Pawned off on you? Is that really what you think?”

You furrow your brows at him. “Yeah I mean you had to go through with me in the haunted house and now you’re stuck entertaining me at the bonfire.”

Sam sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck okay here we go. Do you not think that it has all been done intentionally? You really haven’t picked up on the way these assholes smirk and smile and scoff at us- well more specifically me?”

You’re taken aback at his words.

“I like you. There it is. Okay? I have a stupid little crush on you, I always have. Do you not remember when I kissed you? You never said anything about it, so I tried to ignore what I felt. But fuck it I can’t. I like you, and obviously I have done a piss poor job of showing it if you think I’m some sort of babysitter for you.”

You sit there absolutely stunned. No idea what to say. Maybe it was the liquid courage coursing through your veins, or the adrenaline at the admission. But you leaned over, and you kissed him. Right on that hay bale by that bonfire. He kissed you back immediately, shocked initially. His hand cupped your face and your whole body flooded with warmth. You disconnected your lips and Sam’s face was dusted with pink.

“Well… fuck me. I guess I should have said that a long time ago if I knew I would have gotten that.”

You giggled at him. “I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me. This is unprecedented to say the least. I kind of thought you hated me.”

He scoffed at you. “Hated you? No, I have pined over you for months. I was just unsure how to even navigate that. You make me nervous.”

You make him nervous? What the hell was going on?

“You make me nervous!” You admit with a laugh.

“Well here’s to being nervous together I guess? Wanna go grab another drink?” He asks, getting up and reaching for your hand.

“Sure.” You respond with a smile extending your hand to take his.

He leads you to the drink stand and orders two more. You sip on them and giggle at one another.

“I could use a smoke. You down?” He asks.

You glance around. “We will have to go somewhere secretive. No one else is smoking.”

He smirks at you. “Go somewhere secretive? With you? Absolutely.”

You bite your lip at his playfulness as he takes your hand and leads you behind a shed. It’s darker over here, he’s only illuminated by a blue light. He fumbles with his pockets before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He shakes then vigorously against his hand before selecting one. He puts it between his teeth and flicks the lighter. You can’t help but think how attractive he looks at this moment. He takes a drag and exhales, his eyes flicking towards yours. Then he hands you the cigarette. You take it between two fingers and bring it to your lips, taking a puff. He looks at you the same way.

“What?” You ask with a small smile.

“You’re so fucking hot. You know that? It’s been so hard for me to keep my hands to myself everytime we have drank together. I damn sure didn’t keep my thoughts to myself. I just can’t believe this is finally happening. I didn’t think I would ever have the guts to tell you.” He says, running his fingers through his hair.

You take one more drag and hand it back to him. “Yeah? Good things come to those who wait.”

He leans in, dangerously close to you and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “They do.” He coos.

His eyes are bouncing between your eyes and lips. His hand is impossible hot and you can hear your heart thumping in your chest. He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip before slowly leaning in. You kiss him back, feverishly this time. Not wanting to come up for air. This time a different sensation takes you over, not a warmth but a fire. His hand finds your waist and he squeezes you lightly, causing an unintentionally moan to leave your lips. “Fuck.” He growls in your ear as he attacks your neck with kisses. You can feel him pressed against you and you want nothing more than to take him into this shed. You pull him closer to you, practically as close as you can get and run your hand through the back of his hair, lightly tugging. He returns back to your lips, devouring every kiss. You run your hand over his waistband as he shutters into you. You’re entirely unsure how you two are going to progress this situation. However, the universe had different plans.

“Sam! Where the fuck are yo-“

Jake. Danny. Caught.

Your eyes get as big as saucers as you see them standing there with their flashlights on their phones pointed directly at you two.

“Oh goddamnit really?” Sam asks, trying to cover his pants.

“No FUCKING way!” Jake yells out. “You finally did it Sammy boy!”

“Woooo about time!” Danny yells, as he cackles and bumps shoulders with Jake.

“Would you please fuck off?” Sam seethes.

They both throw their hands up in response. “Leaving in ten with or without you!”

Sam returns his attention back to you, clearly flustered. “I’m sorry. They’re fucking brain dead.”

You clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. This will be fun to explain.”

“What are we going to explain?” Sam asks, testing the waters.

You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t know… What exactly is this?”

Sam laughs. “What do you want it to be?”

You bite your lip. “I’m not sure, but I like kissing you.”

He smiles. “I like kissing you too. Tell you what, how about I take you on a proper date. We can go from there.”

“Hmmm. I guess I could be open to that.” You say, batting your eyes.

He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re going to drive me crazy. You know that.”

“Is that a challenge?”

He leans down and kisses your head. “Let’s get out of here.”

He takes your hand and leads you back towards the cars, passing the haunted house.

“This drive back is going to be brutal. They’re not going to shut the fuck up.” Sam says, sighing.

“If my intuition is correct, Josh will be at mine and Poppy’s house. They will come in and our secret is up.” You add.

“Maybe we should just get an Airbnb for like a month. Away from them.” He jokes.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” You find his eyes and smile.

As you’re exiting towards the parking lot a familiar face jumps out in front of you and screams. You recognize him as the clown that sent you into the haunted house at the beginning of the night.

“Well well! Looks like loverboy finally figured out how to hold on to his girlfriend!

Fucking clowns.

Sam smirks at him. “I did and I’m never letting her go.”

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #sam gvf #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka #gvf halloween series #sammy kiszka fic #sammy kiszka #sammy gvf #GVF

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groggygrimalkin · 4 months

Text

I'd like to imagine Jake just minding his own buisiness on Earth C, shopping for some groceries and he reaches for the last piece of salmon by the fish section and he bumps hands with someone. He laughs a little and so does the other guy and he starts to apologize and he's about to give it to the other person when suddenly they lock eyes and the guy looks a little familiar...He realizes it's Fin and they emmediately start beating the shit out of eachother in the middle of Krogers

#its not even really malicious it's just a rematch #groggy's text post #homestuck

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universitypenguin · 8 months

Note

Have princess and Lloyd ever celebrated his birthday together? Has she done something for him like how he pulled all the stops for her birthday? I feel like he’d be shy about celebrating his day but she would def show him how much he is loved by her 🥰

Thank you for the lovely ask!

I think Lloyd is a little reserved about his birthday. However, for Princess, birthdays are a big deal because her family always celebrated with dinner, cake, and presents. Lloyd’s impact on her life and his support as a friend and mentor caused them to grow closer, so when his birthday rolled around, she really wanted to help him celebrate. Working with him made her feel like Dr. Watson, trailing along with Sherlock Holmes on his adventures.

For the first birthday he had after you were hired, you were a bit nervous about surprising him. Though you’d thought a lot about what to get him, Lloyd wasn’t someone you could easily buy gifts for. He had a habit of getting himself anything and everything that caught his eye. Therefore, you leaned into your other options and decided the best way to celebrate his birthday would be with a meaningful gesture.

On Lloyd’s 39th birthday, you planned a picnic for Lloyd and his friends. You were aware of his grumpy attitude towards his birthday but didn’t let that hamper your enthusiasm.

That morning Bishop’s assistant had ordered him a birthday cake that was served at the morning staff meeting. You were proud of him for holding back his cranky comments until you were safely ensconced in his office and patiently listened to his grousing about cake being served before lunch. When you suggested he take a proactive approach and arrange for a vegetarian platter to be served next year, he sneered and declared that he hated celebrating his birthday. It wasn’t the best kick off to your surprise, so you warned him that you had something planned for this afternoon.

This information seemed to peak his interest and restored your hope that the catered picnic you’d arranged would go over well. Fortunately, you had a busy morning doing interviews at the courthouse in preparation for a mediation case that would be arbitrated next week. The distraction saved you from prying questions from the birthday boy.

As you drove back from the courthouse meetings, Lloyd sat in the passenger seat, absorbed in reading his notes.

“Are you hungry?”

He was so focused on his paperwork that he didn’t look up.

“Lloyd? Are you hungry?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I could use a bite.” You turned left at the park and Lloyd looked out the window. “This isn’t the office. Why are we here?”

“Happy birthday! I thought we’d celebrate with a picnic. Zach is picking up the food for me and he’ll be here in five minutes, so please don’t say no.”

*****

Lloyd helped you set up the picnic table with a plastic table cloth and set out the placemats before Zach pulled up in his Chevy Tahoe. Landon and Jake carried over the large cooler and unpacked the containers from Garden Table Bistro. It was Lloyd’s favorite lunch restaurant near the office. There were caprese salad skewers, an orzo salad, baked salmon filets, sweet potato fries, and eclairs, and lemon rolls for dessert.

“You arranged all of this for me?” Lloyd asked.

“Well, your birthday only happens once a year. It’s customary to celebrate the occasion with friends.”

“I’m aware of the practice,” he said dryly.

Zach had brought a football for after lunch and there was a debate over how teams should be divided. Jake had poor hand eye-coordination and so he was declared the referee. At Landon’s insistence you were paired with Lloyd to counterbalance his semi-professional skills.

Much to everyone’s surprise, you didn’t end up being much of a handicap. Landon and Zach tried to gang up on Lloyd, which left you wide open. His throwing arm was just as accurate as it had been when he was quarterback at Harvard and you caught the pass easily to score a touchdown. After that, the game remained deadlocked. When Jake finally called time, you and Lloyd won 0 to 1.

When the others left, Lloyd slung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. His lips brushed your temple, setting off butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you for today, Princess. I had a good time.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that? After you hated the cake this morning, I was worried about your reaction. If you want me to ignore your birthday next year…”

“Sweetheart, I haven’t had anyone around who wanted to celebrate my birthday for nearly thirty years. What you did was personal. It was for me. The cake they served this morning was only there because everyone wanted an excuse to stuff their faces with chocolate.”

“Does that mean I can start planning something for next year?”

Lloyd squeezed you. “I’d like that.”

“Awesome. You know, if someone had told me a year ago I’d be playing touch football with you on your birthday, I’d have told them to get their head checked.”

“We may not have gotten off on the right foot, but I’m glad you stuck around.”

You turned your face into his neck to appreciate the faint scent of his cologne mingled with sweat before stepping back.

“So am I.”

*****

By his 40th birthday you and Lloyd had grown much closer which was why you felt comfortable giving him a spa certificate for two. Of course, he invited you along as his guest.

You enjoyed a complimentary breakfast on the patio with herbal tea before soaking in the outdoor mineral pool. Lloyd had selected a Swedish massage while you went for the hot stone option. After your massages, you met in the garden for lunch before your mani-pedis and appointment with the esthetician for facials. The final event of the day was a relaxing hour in the sauna where you tried to avoid drooling at Lloyd’s chest muscles.

The day at the spa marked a shift in the intensity of your physical interest in Lloyd. You’d always been aware of him as an attractive man, but seeing his chest, arms, and legs up close and personal twice in one day left you with plenty of fodder for lusty dreams. Therefore, as enjoyable as your spa day was, for his 41st birthday you retreated to less personal territory and gave him a private tour of his favorite craft brewery and tap house in Maryland with three guests. You’d expected him to invite Zach, Jake, and Landon, but the latter ended up having plans with his girlfriend. In light of the group needing a designated driver and your well-documented aversion to beer, you’d ended up tagging along.

Your strategy of giving Lloyd gifts that focused around time and enjoyment made him feel valued because they were so personal. In the past he’d viewed his birthday as just another day, but thanks to your influence, it’s become his favorite day of the year. He spends the entire month prior to his birthday looking forward to whatever you’re going to think of next. There was an incredible sense of contentment that had taken root in his life since you’d become a part of it. His once chaotic existence now held some semblance of stability. It wasn’t that his wild mood swings and stubborn nature had been vanquished, but your support that had caused the difference. You gave him balance and helped him lean into his strengths instead of asking him to change - and that was a gift he was thankful for everyday.

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