#so I just left her barefoot LOL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

philliamwrites · 2 years

Text

indulgence

pairing: eren x fem! reder

warnings: ‼️18+, minors dni‼️, eren jaeger, consensual hook-up, unprotected sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, riding, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, oral sex (fem. Receiving), swearing, use of names (baby, slut, whore, bitch), doggy style, mentions of an exhibitionism kink, phone sex (jean’s being pulled into something he didn’t ask for lol that poor man), spitting, choking, missionary position, overstimulation, crying, multiple orgasm, creampie, aftercare

wc: 7.7k

a/n: sorry for the reupload! i edited one thing and tumblr kicked the post out of the tag searches; likes and reblogs are hugely appreciated!!

the 2nd part of a previous post (temptation) as a thank you for reaching 200 followers a couple of weeks back!!

i wanna fuck this man so bad it makes me look stupid.

At this point, Eren is just fucking with you. You know it, he knows it, and you both know it isn’t the type of fucking that you want.

You slam your thumb into the bell, hear the electric buzz and hope the whole student dorm goes up in flames because someone misplaced an electric wire. It doesn’t, and you’re left to wait in the freezing cold, the cutting wind that picks up and whips your hair left and right.

Thirty seconds, and then you’re gone. Big dick or not, if Eren thinks he can leave you blue-balled and freezing, he can call for another bimbo and let her jerk him off. Even though you were really looking forward to it, and the picture he sent you was a nice reminder of a good friend you’re missing. Just thinking about it ignites a fire between your legs, makes your mouth water.

You hope you’ll leave his place on shaking legs tomorrow.

After another painful, long minute out in the cold, the intercom finally comes to life. Eren’s voice, even through the static, is deep and raspy.

“Who goes there?”

“Open the door, Jaeger.” Your patience is needle-thin. There’s a moment of silence, one dreadful, short moment in which you know Eren is thinking about every way possible that he can be an ass.

He doesn’t disappoint.

“State your business, and I might think about it.” The audible grin in his voice drives you mad. You know what he wants, and you didn’t wake up this morning for Eren to play you like a fiddle. Looking left and right, finding the entrance to the dormitory empty, with a voice drier than autumn leaves swept to the ground, you say, “I’m here to fuck you, Eren Jaeger.”

“Don’t sound too excited about it.” You imagine him standing there, bare-footed probably because he’s an animal like that, and rolling his eyes. But the door buzzes a second later. You shoulder it open, engulfed by the warmth, and find Eren’s apartment number on the mailbox lined up opposite from the elevator.

420.

The joke is blaring so loud it isn’t even funny.

Feeding him a taste of his own medicine, you choose the slow ascent of the staircase, and every floor you pass sends your heart beating higher and higher until your anticipation beats in your throat. Last time, after Eren was done with you, you had looked like you got mauled by someone which isn’t that far from the truth considering Eren fucks like he plays his overrated sports games. Like he’s got everything to lose.

He’s waiting for you, leaning against the door frame, hands in his pocket and barefooted—almost the definition of casual indifference. When you stand before him, he doesn’t move, just like earlier this day where he’s been an inconvenience in your own apartment.. He smiles slowly, a cat’s smile as it faces the mouse and contemplates how best to slay it.

Eren leans forward, his green eyes gleaming. His face is predatory, but his voice is gentle. “Didn’t take you long at all to get here. Needy, are we?”

You take another step closer, your chest almost touching his. Almost, because you’re a good head smaller than him. “I wasn’t the one fucking into my own hand all by myself,” you say, voice silky and calm like a lake’s surface on a windless day.

Amusement flickers in his eyes, brightens them before a shadow falls again. “But you couldn’t wait until tomorrow. You had to come as soon as I sent you a picture of my cock.”

It’s cute that he thinks he’s the sly fox, when every animal living in the forest knows that the most fearsome creature is the huntress wearing her prey’s fur coat. “And if we stopped talking,” you say, your fingers grazing where his shirt covers his solid, taut abdomen, “I might actually cum tonight.”

Eren smiles slowly, like the moon slipping slowly behind dark, heavy clouds. He steps aside, allowing you to enter the lion’s den.

You have barely time to take off your coat before Eren’s hands are all over you. He spins you around, hands cupping your face to tilt it back, granting him full access to your hot mouth, his own bruisingly hard. Restraint has never been a concept known to him, even though it looks so good on him—he’s tense in all the right places.

Without any preamble, his tongue explores your mouth, his teeth holding your bottom lip. One hand slides to your neck, his big, rough fingers cupping your throat gently—deceptively so, as he presses his hard, tall body against yours as if he’s trying to mould you into him.

Your fingers claw at his shirt tucked in his sweatpants, eager and impatient as you chase his mouth. He lifts his arms, letting you take his shirt off. You’re in no hurry to turn away your appreciative gaze from the hard dips and valleys of his body, the sharp v-line on his narrow hips. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, arms the size of your thighs and you remember clearly how they flexed when he held you in place in Connie’s bathroom weeks ago—all taut cord and strong muscles.

Eren looks glorious, like a mortal that Gods would sacrifice their own immortality for—if he wasn’t a Greek God himself. Impulsive and horrible, but pouring his everything into the one thing bringing him joy. Like playing with you.

It has your knees weak in anticipation and want. Your breath catches in your throat when Eren lowers his face to your neck, brushes where your pulse pounds with hungry teeth and hot lips curved into a sharp, wicked smile.

Out of the corner of your eyes you spot the couch in the adjacent living room. With your mouth still on his, you push him towards it, tip-toeing after him. Clearly amused, Eren lets you handle him whichever way you want. For now. His back hits the couch’s cushion as he falls into it, automatically spreading his legs for you to step between them, curling one hand around the loose, soft hair at the back of his neck.

Now Eren is the one tilting his head back to look up at you, the sight far from unpleasant as his eyes dip down to the low cut of your cleavage. Funny, how he looks at you as if you are the Goddess and he’d sacrifice anything for just a minute between your legs, in your arms.

“Eager, are we?” he says, his broad hands splayed wide on your hips as you crawl atop him, leaning down to pepper hasty, open-mouthed kisses on his sharp jawline, to lick and suck at the pulse point where you can feel the beating of his heart.

“Do me a favour,” you say into the crook of his neck, “and shut up. Just let me have my fill, okay?”

Eren thinks about that for a moment. His hands roam from your hips to your ass, squeeze once, twice. And then they fall away, back to his sides, and you hate how much you already hate the loss of them. “Sure. But you have to give me a good show, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “Whatever.”

You’re too eager, too hungry for a good fuck to notice. If you had taken one moment to look into his eyes, to see what is lurking behind those sharp, marble green eyes, you would have realised that you were about to get into far more than you bargained for.

You would have known asking Eren for anything is like summoning up the devil. The devil might grant your wish, but afterwards, you’re out of a soul.

But you don’t spend a second questioning his laid back, easy willingness (nothing about Eren Jaeger is easy), not with the constant throbbing between your legs; certainly not with the visible outline of his hard dick that jolts when your fingertips graze him.

Shuffling closer, your knees hitting the back of the couch, closing around Eren’s waist, you lower your hot, still-clothed pussy onto his bulge straining through his pants. Just that contact makes Eren groan, makes drool collect at the corners of your mouth. You slide against his clothed crotch, dry-humping his dick in slow, hard rolls, one hand splayed flat against his lower abdomen so you can feel every time it flexes and hardens when he rocks up into you.

His fingers hook under the hem of your sweater. With a swift motion, he pulls it off, hands immediately drawing to your tits like magnets pulled in, fitting perfectly. He squeezes them, pinches your hardened nipples through the fabric of your lace bra as you speed up rolling your hips against his.

Eren pinches the fabric of your flared skirt between his fingers and lifts it, watching you move against his hard dick, a lazy, content smile spreading on his face like a cat that’s found a comfortable spot in the warm sun and is in no hurry to leave.

That placid light in his eyes quickly turns into a wicked gleam though when he sinks his fingers into your tights, right at your crotch, and yanks the fabric apart. The ripping sound is like a gunshot, breaking your rhythm as your hips stutter. More heat pools into your belly—a delicious mixture between arousal and anger.

“You owe me a new one, asshole,” you grunt, digging your fingers into his arms. Eren just grins, one hand getting a firm hold of your waist to keep you moving.

Soon, the friction isn’t enough. You prop yourself up on his arms, one hand sliding down between your legs where you slide the fabric of your underwear to the side. You don’t miss how Eren’s eyes are glued to the thin thread connecting your drooling cunt with your slip. He’s raising his hips to shuffle out of his own pants just enough for his cock to spring free, hitting his lower stomach. He’s holding your half-lidded gaze, curling his fingers around his hard, long dick. Oh, how much you’ve missed him, and you can’t help but stare at his girth, the thick vein running along the underside—

“Don’t start drooling now,” Eren says, laughing quietly to himself.

“You wish,” you mumble, and very discreetly try to swallow the spit that’s pooling in your mouth.”

You collect the slick of your arousal and spread it on your warm, soft pussy, pads of your fingers circling your clit slowly as you watch Eren pumping his cock just as slow—lazy strokes from where his balls rest, up to the angry flushed tip of his cock. Your thighs clench as you hold yourself up, immediately stuffing two fingers inside your throbbing hole. The stretching burns, but you can’t help and sigh at finally filling yourself.

Eren still holds onto your waist. His throat flexes when he swallows, eyes riveted on your drooling cunt.

“Want me to do it?” he asks, noticing the uncomfortable angle of your wrist as you fuck your fingers inside you.

You sink your teeth into your lower lip. “Sure.”

Eren grins. “Say please.”

“Fuck you.”

“Preferable within the next hour, yeah.”

Your voice is dry, devoid of any emotion. “Oh, my darling Jaeger. Please.”

He squeezes your thigh, hard. “Good girl.”

Eren chuckles when your thighs jolt slightly at the praise, and you make it a point to hold his gaze when he challenges you to say something about it. When you don’t relent, he raises his fingers to your mouth, tapping the rough pads against your lips. “Open up.”

You roll your eyes but part your lips, sticking your tongue out slightly. Eren drags his fingers over your warm, wet tongue until his knuckles press against the corners of your mouth. His fingers are so deep in your mouth, too close to your throat, and you can feel tears well in your eyes.

Deeming his fingers sufficiently wet, he pulls his hand back and drops it between your legs where he slides his fingers between your wet folds, collecting your slick, and enters your weeping hole with one thick finger. Again, the stretch has your mouth open, your eyes half-closed. He sinks his finger knuckle-deep inside you, runs them along your hot, gummy walls. And then stills. You wiggle your hips, trying to encourage him to move, but Eren is immovable like a marble statue, watching you with hawkish eyes.

“Do you mind?” you ask, grabbing onto his wrist and sinking his finger deeper inside you.

Eren’s little laugh is dark. Condescending, even. “I’m just here for the show. If you wanna get off, you have to put in some work.”

The answer to that gets stuck in your throat when he curls his finger inside you. You glare at him, but fine. You don’t need him. You’ll just use him until you’ve had your fill and then go, see that he can hump his pillow or something.

“Oh, don’t make that face,” Eren coos, dragging a thumb over your jutted lower lip. “You look so cute pouting like that, it makes me want to be even meaner to you.”

He seals your mouth shut with his before you can throw an insult at him—or even worse, challenge him to actually be mean as the gnawing pit of hunger in your belly demands.

Now holding his wrist steady, you lift your hips agonisingly slow and sink back down, up, down. Up, and this time Eren sneakily bullies his second finger inside you, still not giving you any more friction than the one you create as you fuck yourself open on his fingers. Sometimes, when he’s feeling generous, he brushes your clit with his thumb—either in a slow, hard brush, or just a quick tap. It’s enough to drive you insane.

“You’re such … an asshole,” you hiss between gritted teeth, angling your hips this and that way to make his fingers brush against the bundle of nerves inside you that make you see stars.

“You like it,” Eren says a little breathless, dragging his thumb over your clit in a harsh swipe. His lips move along your cheekbone to your throat and you swallow a moan. “I like that you like it.”

“Shut up.” You smash your mouth on his, hungrily, just all teeth and tongue and whatever drool escapes the corners of his lips, your tongue travels that path until you nibble on his jawline, his chin, trying to bounce on his fingers until it isn’t enough and you feel that abysmal yearning for more, more, more eat you up from inside.

You yank his fingers out and take his cock, hard and hot, leaking at the tip, to align it with your sloppy cunt. Eren watches with glittering, wide eyes as you continue to roll your hips against his cock, slicking it up with your own arousal until it glistens in the dim light, thin threads of your slick connecting to his rock-hard shaft, clinging to the protruding vein at the underside.

He’s digging his fingers into your clothed thighs, holding your legs open. His breath grows laboured, drowned by the slick sound of you rubbing yourself on him, and you could swear there are hearts in his eyes as his mind drowns in the sight of your wet folds.

You aren’t doing any better. You can’t stop staring at his dark tip catching at your clit, pushing against it, and when you sink down to his balls, his shaft resting against your pubic mound, he stands hard and proud, almost all the way up to your navel.

You forgot how big he really is. But does that stop you? Of course not. Your mother raised no quitter, go big or go home, and if you can’t go home at all because you can’t walk after you’re done with Eren, nobody cares. Certainly not you.

Steadying your feet on the couch, you squat to align your hole with his cock, his fat tip kissing your entrance. Eren, the gentleman that he is, helps you by splaying his hands over your ass, sinking his fingers into the plump flesh. You both watch as you lower yourself slowly, your cunt swallowing his tip first—the breach has your mouth wide open, a silent cry and Eren grunting—then the rest of him, still moving so slowly that you can accommodate to the girth, the heavy feeling of him sliding inside you inch by inch, hot and heavy and thick.

“Wait, wait.” Eren holds you still, pausing your excruciatingly slow descent. He ignores the positively lethal glare you bend on him. “What about a condom?”

“Just pull out in time.” If he’s thinking he can hold you back from getting dicked down any longer, he’s so, so wrong. You wiggle your hips, gently bouncing in place on the upper half of his shaft, working yourself open. Eren throws his head back, his fingers digging into your ass at the friction, breathless laughter escaping his parted lips. You can see a dark line where he has bitten his bottom lip, or maybe you have bitten it.

“Because that worked out so well last time,” he says. Pictures flood the back of your half-closed eyes. The sink Eren had bent you over at Connie’s party, ploughing into you like an animal. And when he’d cum, his thighs shaking, his grip on your elbows pulling them back bruising, he’d filled you up to the brim, until it leaked down your legs, onto the floor. It had felt so warm, so good.

You grin. “Didn’t knock me up, did you?”

“Would you like that?” His voice is rough, scratchy. “For me to knock you up?”

You hate how your body betrays you, how you clench and he isn’t even all the way in. Eren chokes on a moan as your legs begin to shake at his sides. He pats your legs, encouraging you to continue your journey down on his cock. “What a beautiful answer,” he croons.

Your heart pounds in your ears. It is so, so hot; hot as if you’re burning up from the inside. Your face contorts slightly, the moan catching in your throat as his cock splits you open, forces your tight, clenching walls to part and take him in, accept him. Accept all that he’s giving you.

A warm hand gently slides up to the back of your neck. Your eyes flutter open—when did you close them?—shaking the tears loose that have collected at your lashes like morning dew clinging to curved leaves.

“Breathe,” Eren says, almost softly. Something warm skitters in your chest at the nearly caressing expression on his face. “You’ve done this before. You can do it again. You can take it.”

That warm feeling evaporates, quickly replaced by stinging annoyance. “Great advice, coach.”

When Eren grins at that, a little crookedly, the tight knot in your stomach eases a little. Maybe you aren’t the only one struggling right now. You try to relax, take one deep, shuddering breath. Allow yourself to sink down a little more, feeling the drag of his fat tip against your walls. When he’s finally, finally balls deep inside you, you take a moment to get used to his girth, gently rocking your hips back and forth.

Eren’s hands find their way back home around your thighs, nails digging into your flesh and leaving angry, crescent marks on your skin even through the fabric of your tights. His back against the cushion, head leaning slightly against the rest. Chest falling and rising with every deep breath, one hand steals between your spread legs and his thumb drags one of your lower lips to the side to allow him a spectacular few of where you’re pierced and drooling on his dick.

“Look at that,” he drawls, his voice gravely low. He’s smiling like he’s just won the lottery, a warmth in his eyes that has a prickly, pleasant feeling pooling in the pit of your stomach. The closest word you can think of how he looks at you is adoration. “See how much she missed me?”

“You’re so disgusting,” you mumble, but that doesn’t stop you from lifting your hips, up and further up until his leaking tip catches at your clenching hole. It doesn’t want to let him go. You don’t want to let him go.

You sink your fingers into his muscular arms to steady yourself and begin to bounce on his dick. Eren’s face, contorted with pleasure, deserves its own painting to commemorate it. His brows furrow, his jaw tenses. You watch the beads of sweat collect at his temples as you immediately take on a spine-breaking pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Good fucking cunt, treating me so well.” Eren’s smile has vanished, and the warm spark in his eyes is suddenly ablaze—a roaring fire, threatening to consume you. “Wish I could film this … put a camera right behind you and see your cunt swallowing my dick. Would you like that?”

No, you want to say. Instead, you moan, your body twitches for a second, and that is answer enough. Eren smiles placidly. “Of course you do.”

He frees your tits by yanking your lace bra down and stares at them bouncing whenever you sink down on him hard enough that you feel his dick in your throat. It feels like a fire is licking up from your knees up to your thighs. You have to put your knees down, get into a more comfortable position that won’t have you end up in the ER at the end of this night—

“Oh, no, no,” Eren coos when your knees sink into the cushion. He grabs onto them, lifting them again, slightly changing the angle at which you sink onto his cock. “Come on, be a good girl. Keep ‘em up. That’s right, just like that,” he adds when you dutifully return to bounce on his lap in a squatting position. “Just like that.”

You hate noticing how much your body reacts to his voice. You can hear him struggling too, his little grunts whenever you sink down completely, stuff your cunt with his monster of a cock. It all accumulates to the tight knot in your abdomen to tighten further, the pleasure a hard-clenched fist around your fuzzy mind.

“Oh God—God, I’m—I’m close,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for leverage, feeling his muscles strain.

“Are you?” Eren places a warm hand at the back of your neck, pulling your forehead against his shoulder. “You’re doing such a good job, fucking yourself on my cock, such a good job,” he growls in your ear. “Come on, you can let go. You can cum.”

He tries and fails to sound as if he’s got it all under control, feeling you tipping closer and closer to the edge of becoming completely untethered—your walls tighten vice-like around his cock. He grits his teeth and grabs your ass harshly, moving you up and down, up and down, using you like a ragdoll and helping you bounce on his cock—he’s not even fucking you himself, just moving you like one of those pocket pussies, like you weight nothing and manhandling you all the way he pleases is nothing but child’s play.

His hot mouth maps out your temples, your cheekbones, your jaw. He kisses your cheek deceptively soft, and with a harsh, sharp whisper against your mouth he grunts, “You can cum like the good little slut that you are for me.”

Something inside you just snaps, something you’ve been trying to hold onto so desperately and finally, you’re free.

Eren slams you down on his cock when you cum so hard your whole body shakes, the tears clinging to your lashes finally rolling free, and he keeps you pierced on his cock, feeling every twitch and convulsion of your hot walls as your mouth falls open in a loud cry. His groan vibrates through his whole body as he continues to move your hips in shaky, desperate rolls, starving for more friction, more of your spasming walls.

When your sweaty body finally stills and you slump against him, Eren already begins to pull you off his dick and your battered pussy retaliates by clutching tightly around him as if saying Don’t go yet. I still need you inside me.

You’re hiding your face in the crook of his neck, patting weakly at his shoulder. “St-stop, wait … wait a second, please.” You’re still so sensitive, the slow drag of his cock is too much friction on your overstimulated, swollen cunt.

Eren mouths at your neck, his tongue running in lazy swipes over your skin. “Did you enjoy using me as your personal dildo?”

You whimper when his fingers dig in your thighs again. He yanks you off his dick, and you both stare at the thread of slick between your legs still connecting you two before Eren wipes his dick off on the inside of your thigh.

With a swift movement—with way too much control than you want to give him credit for, he rises to his feet, you still clinging to him with all your might. “’Cause now it’s my turn to use you as my cute, little cocksleeve.”

His words make you shake, your legs locking tight around his narrow waist. Eren carries you to this dark bedroom, and in true Eren fashion, he almost trips over a heap of dirty clothes lying by his bed and nearly breaks both your necks.

“Oops.” You can feel his boyish grin against your skin as he reaches over to the night stand where a lamp flickers to life, and before you can tell him to pick up his dirty, stinky clothes, his mouth is already back on yours. He spreads you on his sheets, pulls off your skirt, tights and underwear. You don’t notice your phone falling out of your pocket on the bed as he throws your clothes to the ground without any care, quickly followed by his own pants after he shakes them off.

And then Eren just looks at you for a moment. Takes all of you in with eyes starved and gleaming with something that might be unadulterated awe—as if you are an exhibit usually sealed away behind highly secured iron doors and finally, he has you all to himself.

It all takes less than a minute, but Eren’s hands fly back to your body as if you two have been apart for years. He lets them roam over every stretch and fold, his fingers tracing the curves of you, the dips and hollows of your body, his rough lips following closely after. Not an inch is spared by his hungry mouth—he sucks nasty bruises on your shoulders and collarbones, digs his fingers into wherever your soft skin yields as if he tries to leave imprints there, as though you are a thing fashioned from a potter’s hands and Eren is the artist.

Your tits fill out his warm, rough palm completely, a perfect match as he holds them and pinches your nipples, with his fingers first, then his teeth. He settles between your spread legs and kisses a trail down to your stomach, to your swollen cunt, where he presses his hot tongue flat against it.

“Wait, gimme just … five—five minutes,” you slur, digging your heels into his shoulders and trying to push him off, but Eren just grabs your ankle and holds your leg, spreading your further open.

“You gotta keep up, pretty girl,” Eren mouths against your wet folds. His tongue dips into your hole, followed by his fingers. “You had your fun, now it’s my turn. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.”

A thrill of anticipation shoots up your spine, arching your back into a beautiful curve that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head—and looking right at the line of big-breasted figurines in skimpy outfits that don’t deserve to be called clothes.

“Oh my god,” you say, slumping back into the mattress. “I’m not going to fuck you with all your fake girlfriends watching us.”

Eren follows your gaze, lapping at your cunt, fingers plunging in and out of your hole in lazy movements, and if your hips slightly jerk against his face to create friction, you’ll deny any such thing ever happened.

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t you dare say that about Rei Ayanami.”

“What? That she’s not real?” Sometimes, with the way he acts like he’s a walking sex God, it’s easy to forget what a huge fucking nerd he is.

Eren pinches your thigh. “No need to be jealous. I’m paying attention to you now, aren’t I, baby?”

“It’s not about that.” As if Eren needed his ego more fed. “And anyway, isn’t Asuka way better?”

His eyes nearly sparkle. “Where have you been all my life?” He sighs and dives back between your legs. You didn’t think such simple words would have any impact on you, but here you are, heat scalding your ears.

“Oh, you are so pretty when you’re all embarrassed,” Eren croons. He kneads at your thighs, grabbing them hard as if they’re his personal anti-stress toy. “I can’t wait to see how you’ll look when I fuck you stupid.”

“I forgot,” you say dryly, “you can be such a romantic.”

“Any time.” Eren gives your clit tiny, sharp kitten licks with the tip of his tongue that have your legs twitching shut. A harsh slap from him on your thigh makes you jump. “Keep ‘em open for me.”

Your hand travels down to where he’s holding painfully hard onto your thigh, your fingers brushing and holding onto each other for a moment. If anyone else saw you, they might confuse you for lovers. That is until Eren leans back and spits on your cunt, spreading it with so much fondness as if he were putting paint on a gilded canvas.

“I hope you’re ready, baby girl,” Eren says to your cunt. “I’m gonna mess you up real good.” He places a last parting kiss on your clit, then flips you around, arranging you however he wants: on your knees, legs spread painfully wide, ass up, your face in his pillow.

You hug it closely to your chest, not daring to turn around. Your reward is a harsh slap to your ass that has you shuddering so hard your teeth rattle before Eren, pressing his thighs against yours, slides right back in, grunting low and content.

“Home, sweet home, baby,” he sighs, sliding in and in and in, and finally he’s fully back inside you, balls resting against your slick folds. You can’t help yourself—you giggle. At his joke, at him stretching you out blissfully. Who the fuck even cares anymore?

Finally, he moves, aaaall the way out, then aaall the way back in, and because patience isn’t a word in his dictionary, he begins to snap his hips against yours at a brutal pace. The stretch still feels impossibly good, every inch dragging over your sensitive walls and unravelling thought after thought until your mind is empty and only filled with Eren’s cock, Eren’s cock, Eren’s cock.

Eren laughs, driving you forward with every harsh thrust. You have to catch your body against his headboard before he smacks your head right against it with how rough he fucks you.

“What? Am I fucking you stupid? You feeling so good you can’t talk like a normal person?” he says, and to your horror you realise you must have said that out loud; must have worshipped his cock out loud.

You press your face into his pillow, and if you suffocate like this, you don’t care. It beats having to deal with the embarrassment of admitting how fucking good it feels, each relentless thrust that Eren puts so much force behind that you can’t stop mewling into his pillow. He fucks you good—so good, you want to forget your name.

Vrrrr. Vrrrr. It takes a long moment for your fucked out mind to understand what is happening. Eren, with his head still too clear for your liking, pauses for a moment. Still connected to you, rocking his hips gently into you, he digs around the blanket he’s half kicked off his bed. You’re still unable to comprehend. That is until you hear Eren’s snort behind you, and then he throws something right next to your head.

An incoming call on your phone set on vibration.

Calling ID: my little pony 🐎

“Oh no,” you blurt, hand springing forward to decline the call.

“Oh yes.” Eren is faster. He seizes your wrist, unfairly easy with just one hand, and with his thumb, he swipes right to accept the phone call.

Your mouth goes dry as a desert.

“Ey, where the hell did you go? Sasha and Connie are coming over and I need pop tarts,” Jean says.

You need to die. Right now. Eren pulls your arm back by your wrist, settling it on your lower back. You don’t trust yourself to speak and tell him you’re going to kick his ass to Narnia. With a chair.

“Heeellooooo? Can you go and get them or what?”

“I don’t think,” Eren says, driving his cock all the way back only to drill it inside you with enough force to punch an obscene moan out of your lungs, “that’s possible, horse face.”

You slap your free hand on your mouth, feeling your heart beat in your throat. If Eren’s pillow combusts it’s from all the heat radiating off your face.

“Jesus,” Jean says, “Christ.”

Eren laughs, and you hate how the sound, so clear like an early summer’s day, makes you feel, makes something flutter in your chest. He ruts shallowly into you, making sure the fat tip of his cock presses right against the bundle of nerves deep inside you. You feel your eyes rolling back, your hips bucking into him on their own accord as you try to fuck yourself back onto him. You almost miss Jean’s next words. Almost. Because the screeching tilt to his voice is barely something you can blank out.

“I thought you two didn’t get along?!”

“We get along splendidly when I’m inside her,” Eren says.

“Oh God, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Don’t be shy now.” Eren is on a roll, it seems. “You can wipe out your tiny dick and jerk off to it, I don’t mind.”

“I. Mind,” you grit out over the sound of Eren abusing your cunt while Jean squeals, “My dick isn’t tiny, you asshole!”

It sounds a little as if Jean is having an existential crisis on the other line. You’re very close to having one yourself at the feeling of more and more slick pooling between your legs, gushing onto the mattress. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Eren, the slick and easy slide. His speed increases. He’s nearly pounding into you again.

“Bitch, didn’t you say you’d rather open Only Fans than fuck him again?” Jean asks you, appalled. You never in your whole life wanted him to shut up so bad like right now.

“Oh?” Eren presses his damp, bare chest into your back, pushing you into the mattress. He leans over your shoulder, to your ear on the other side from the phone and hisses darkly and quietly, “Would have loved to see that. Watch you stuff your cute little cunt with big, big toys. Would have donated money to you so you could buy them. Not that toys will ever satisfy you again after I’m done with you.”

You whine, spreading your legs even wider to grant him better access.

Jean makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like gagging. “Why is this happening? You’re the last two people I wanna hear going at it like rabbits.”

Content with his work, Eren leans back, changes his angle so that he’s fucking up into you. He groans when your walls grip him so tight that he has to bully his dick back inside you. “You’re—you’re still here, horse face.”

“Fuck.” The tone of Jean’s voice changes. “Yeah, this shit is like a car crash.”

“Next time,” Eren says, “come over and watch. I’m sure she’ll like that.”

“I—I’m gonna … gonna kill you,” you drawl, and yet your body betrays you and reacts to his words, not because it’s Jean but because apparently, you’re a slut for exhibitionism and Eren knows.

“Okay, that’s my cue to go and bleach my ears. You better be using protection, you psychopaths.”

Your phone lights up when the call disconnects. Finally. Eren leans over you again, marking up your neck with sharp, hungry teeth, biting into the heated skin. “’M sure he’s jealous.”

So that’s what this is about. He just wanted to prove a point, that you and him aren’t a thing, that you two are nothing, but if Eren possesses something, no matter how brief or the context of the relationship, he has to let other people know, and he pretty much smacked a neon-sign in Jean’s face that right now you are Eren’s. That you belong to him.

“You’re a freak,” you mumble, rolling your hips against his. Wanton and desperate. He can claim you all he wants; you don’t even care anymore.

Eren grins against your sweaty, hot skin. “Good thing, right? Or else you wouldn’t be here.”

He shifts his position, keeps one knee pressed into the mattress, and lifts his other to put his foot down to put more weight behind his thrusts. You thought it impossible, but like that, he hits you even deeper—you wish someone would take a picture right now as he mounts you, draping his broad chest over your back and circles his strong arms your shoulder to cage you; pushes one of his arms against your throat to choke you.

This is how animals fuck: unabashed, filthy. With one aim only. To breed.

With your hand now free, you grab onto his hair, pulling it loose from its low bun. Eren turns his head, running his mouth along your open palm, your wrist as he gets lost in the merciless rhythm of fucking you, aiming to destroy you. Your throat becomes hoarse from the screams and moans he punches out of you.

When he pushes you over the edge a second time, your knees buckle, unable to hold you up any longer as shockwaves grip your body, your walls fluttering around Eren’s cock.

This time, he doesn’t relish in the spasm and contract of your tight walls. He pulls out and flips you over on your back, laying the weight of his whole massive body on top of you as he slides back in. Only his hips snap with a ferocity as if he’s trying to break your spine; he is all desperation as his body cages yours.

His warm hands hold your head, cupping your cheeks. He looks at you with his eyes blown black from desire, half-closed, mouth hanging open. His thumbs press into your forehead as he eats up the sight of your fucked-out, blissful expression: eyes puffy from crying, nose running, drool sticking to the corners of your mouth and chin. Your heart-eyes on him.

“Gorgeous, so gorgeous,” he mumbles, and a jolt of unadulterated desire strikes your body at the sight of him becoming untethered because he feels so good fucking you. You are the one making him absolutely drunk on your pussy. “Lemme ruin that pussy for any other dick, will you? Can’t get off on any other dick except mine. Can’t fuck anyone else except me.”

You nod and nod and nod, licking your lips, swallowing. Eren smashes his mouth on yours, biting at your lips. “I’m gonna make this pussy a slut for my dick. No one can ever fuck you like I do. Ever.”

It’s so much, too much; you haven’t even recovered from your second orgasm and now Eren’s giving it to you like there is no tomorrow. Like today is your last day on earth and his whole purpose is to drill the shape of his cock inside you.

Something inside you snaps. You can’t keep up with this, can’t hold Eren’s searing gaze any longer. You shake your head, trying to break free from his hold. Somewhere you snatch a pillow and try to hide behind it, but Eren is having none of it.

“Oh, no, no, no, you can’t hide from me.” He cups your cheeks, thumbs wiping off tears as he licks into your mouth, lets you suck on his tongue. “Look at me.” He shakes you slightly until you do. “Look at me.”

You do. You look right into his unfathomable, green eyes and it’s nearly enough to make you come undone.

“Look at this.” He tilts your head, cupping the back of your neck gently, until you can look down your bodies, see how Eren’s massive cock disappears into your body as he hammers at your cunt. The outline of him inside you.

You laugh and cry, tears running hot paths down your temples.

“Look at how I’m fucking you,” he continues, his voice thick with the need to devour you. “You love it, don’t you, baby? Love, love, love how I fuck you like a whore.”

Nodding yet again, your nails dig bloody crescent marks into his arms as you hold onto him as if your life depends on it.

“Say it.” Eren’s thrusts lose his momentum as his hips stutter. He’s getting close, chasing his own climax without any care for you. More tension coils in your lower abdomen at that thought, driving you crazy. “Use your words, baby. Say how much you love it.”

“Y-your cock,” you whimper. You don’t recognise your own voice, it sounds so gone, so completely out of it. “Your cock sh-should live in there … that’s how mu-much I love … love it.”

Eren groans. His thrusts become so powerful he’s making you both bounce on the mattress and you have to lock your legs around his waist. “Such a filthy mouth.” He hooks his thumb around your teeth and yanks your mouth open. Spits in it. “I love it. I love it.”

When you swallow his spit like a good girl, he looks at you as if you are sculpture, something shaped a thousand years ago in the likeness of a pagan deity, as if you are absolutely divine—but his words are utter filth, delicious music to your ears: “Love this pussy so much, taking me so well. Treating my dick so good. C’mon, say it. Who’s fucking your brains out? Who’s messing up this fucking cunt?”

This time, you aren’t even hesitating as you shake with the force of his thrusts. “Y-you, you, you.” Your arms circle around his shoulders as you hold onto him. “E-Eren, Eren, Eren!”

“F-fuuuck!” His voice rings in your ear as he stuffs your cunt with one final, hard thrust and stays as he empties his balls inside you, stuffing you full with load after load of hot, thick cum. He groans your name as if it is the only word that holds any meaning in his entire existence; as if you are the only thing that keeps him from getting unwoven. Your walls milk him hard as he pushes you, no kicks you over the edge a third time this evening.

You cry against his thick neck, little hiccups and wet moans as Eren slides out fully, only to snap back inside, once, twice, and a last time. And finally, he slumps against you, exhausted and with his heart beating so hard against his ribcage you can feel it knock against your own chest.

The silence is like balm to a wound as you take the time to catch your breaths. Eren is hiding his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling audibly as his nose brushes along your throat.

“That was—” he begins, his voice throaty. You can feel his fingers gliding through your hair, smoothing it back.

“Yeah … yeah, that was something,” you agree, and proceed to lie flat like a pancake under him, not moving as his mouth plants lazy kisses on your shoulder. That is until you feel Eren’s warm cum leak out of you, slowly sliding between your ass crack and down his balls. You can feel him pull a grimace against your neck.

“Lemme go clean up.” You pat his shoulder until he pushes himself off you, his mouth curled downward. His frown only lasts until he, holding your legs open, slowly pulls out and watches your cunt push out another load of his cum.

“Pretty,” he says, thumbing at your hole.

You throw your arm over your eyes. “Your pull-out game is on top, as always.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to pull out.”

He’s right, but you don’t have to tell him that. All you want right now is to curl up and sleep for the next three days.

But Eren, who has the cock and stamina of a horse, picks you up easily in his arms, and the only reason he stumbles is because on the way to the bathroom, he trips over his dirty clothes a second time. “Oops.”

You’re too tired to comment on it. Too tired to answer anything when he goes full nerd and chats you up about the final instalment of the Evangelion movies as he sits you on the toilet lid while searching for a clean washcloth in one of his cupboards. When he soaks it in warm water and carefully wipes it between your legs, having to lean down slightly, you reach out and squish his cheeks, finally silencing him.

“What do I have to do to make you shut up?” you say.

Eren’s eyes dip to your mouth for a moment. “Sit on my face next time.”

His answer surprises you enough you lose your hold on him and he dives forward to smack a wet kiss on your mouth.

You blink at him, a little dazzled. “Next time?”

He grins. “Why not? I think we’re a pretty good match.”

That’s a persuading point. It’s a persuasive enough for you to lean forward and gently lick at the curve of his v-line, to slide your hands up his waist, over his hard packs. Eren’s eyes immediately darken. You’ll have to see if he can hold out another round first, because he has yet to learn how insatiable you are. Insatiable and over-indulgent. But this indulgence, him, is like playing with fire, and you have no problem becoming the match to set it off.

a/n: part 3 threesome w/ jean, let’s go

i’m joking.

am i?

***

shamless self-ad, please go check out my canon (with divergence) eren/fem!reader series! 🥺👉👈 the mutual pining is going hard right now and they’re both kinda dumb about it.

will have explicit sexual content later which will be marked for minors to not interact with those chapters

○ Masterlist ○

○ ao3 ○ buy me a coffee if you enjoyed this ○

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sarahsartistportfolio · 5 months

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What I imagine our children to be like/Genshin fathers <3

Notes: Completely self indulgence. Technically self ship? Can be read sagau or just traveler!me. Basing this mostly on vibes, I'm still lacking knowledge on a lot of characters personal quests and insights. Very very tempted to draw some of the children. Would you wanna see that?😊

Lyney- One boy and one girl. Birth order doesn’t matter. I could also see him very much adopting. Maybe our third child is an adoptee. And yes he is including them in his magic acts Lyney darling where did the toddler go? Hm? What do you mean say the magic word and he'll reappear??!!

Cyno- One boy. Looks just his father. Child is quite and has a very calm temperament. Most well behaved child ever. All the other parents are jealous. For sure teaches his son how to protect himself and others when he’s older.

Childe- Twins, one girl and and boy. A mix of brown hair like me and bright red hair like their dad. Freckles too. If we decide to try again it’s another set of twins lol.

Heizou- Two little girls. 3-5 years apart. Omg he babys them so much. Spoils them rotten.

Zhongli- Just one little girl. She looks a lot like her father but has my eyes. Inherits archon power so she is a little dragon herself. Has a name referencing a flower or jewel like Jade or Amethyst. She's the ideal daughter when she's a young adult.

Ayato- Three boys. Oldest 10 years old, middle 8, youngest 5. And they are a menace. The biggest trouble makers. They did not inherit their father’s calm demeanor. They behave well enough in front of Ayato but left alone...chaos.

Wanderer- A single little girl who Scara is secretly so soft for. Outwardly and mostly in the early stage of fatherhood treats the child pretty indiffrently in public. But behind closed doors cuts the crust off the bread for his daughter and lets her braid his hair.

Venti- One son who has my hair color but still carries Venti’s teal color gradient. Venti is really clueless on how to care for a newborn but as soon as the baby starts to babble and become mobile he becomes surprising a really good dad. In true god of freedom fashion lets the toddler wonder around barefoot outside ! Venti sweetie your baby's about to eat a worm go get em!!

Kaveh- Oldest a boy, middle a girl, and youngest a boy. Actually very deicated to his family, gives him a reason to get up in the morning. When his child needs attention he sits them on his lap while he (trys) to work at his desk, giving the toddler a paintbrush to play with.

Tighnari- Four children. Hmm maybe two girls and two boys? All of them have fox ears and tails. Mix of them looking more like me and more like Tighnari.

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illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

Text

untouchable | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 3.2k words request: yes, by anon: “friends to lovers fic with mick schumacher based on untouchable - taylor swift? i love your work and the little taylor swift references!!” okay for the longest time i had no idea how to write it, so i just used little references to the lyrics i hope that’s okay!🥺🥺 & “for the summer series can we get a running barefoot with mick and angie please 🙏🥺” prompt: running around barefoot (again<3) + starry night and stargazing + campfire evenings from this prompt list. warnings: language, mick being the softest. angie being the best. not proofread! a/n: i think we have two fics left for the ‘summer of love’ event<3 i’ve loved writing these, it’s like the vacations i desperately need but can’t afford lol.

my masterlist / summer of love masterlist

“you ready?” mick asked, closing the trunk of his truck, she nodded, an excited smile on her face.

“have been since i got here,” she chuckled, placing her hands in the pockets of her jeans. she had a big smile on her face, and mick couldn’t help but stare for a second longer than he should’ve. he bit his lip as he threw his arm around her shoulders. “thank you for making time for me. i know you probably had other plans, or places to go, i know you don’t have that much time off but-”

“nonsense. no, of course i would rather show you around. it’s been a while since i’ve been there myself, plus, it’s your first time here, and i want to spend time with my best friend.” he said, trying his best to keep a straight face as he said the last two words.

they’d met a year before, they were vacationing at the same place and built a great friendship from then on. it started with texts, calls, and video chats every chance they could. at odd times of the night, she was arriving home from school, or a club, or a night out with friends, and he was just starting his day.

their schedules were crazy, but nothing could deny the absolute excitement they both fell when they woke up to find a text from the other person waiting for them. they told each other everything, confided in the other with their deepest thoughts and dreams and hopes, and soon they became each other’s favorite person.

they lived through ups and downs, grew closer every day, and became the other person’s safe space to rant, let out anything they felt at that moment. the feelings came in the blink of an eye. for mick, he woke up one day and everything was new, everything made sense. and he could finally put a name to what he felt inside his stomach when his phone rang. he knew why he felt disappointment inside when he didn’t see her name on his screen.

for her, it was similar, but more difficult to admit. it was so cliché, the attractive best friend who everyone wanted, and the normal girl by his side. she’d tried so hard to deny her feelings, she kept telling herself that she just missed him, but even she couldn’t hide the way hearing his voice affected her. how she stopped everything every time she received a new message.

they thought that once they reunited, the feelings would fade away, but she’d been there, in switzerland, for two days, and she could barely keep it together.

“i’m so excited,” she looked up at mick, who was smiling at her.

“you’ll love it. it’s so beautiful, and you get a perfect view of the stars at night.”

“i’ve seen pictures,” she nodded, “i bet it doesn’t compare to the real thing, though,”

“it’s so much better.” he assured her, “we should hit the road now, so we have enough time to set everything up.” mick suggested, and she nodded, looking back to his arm still on her shoulders. “oh! sorry,” he said, removing it from her, she shook her head.

“don’t worry. but you’re right, we should go now.”

“angie!” mick called for his dog, she walked to them, her tail waggling, “let’s go, get in girl.”

“she’s joining us? for real?” since her arrival she’d begged mick to let angie join them on their trip, but he said it would be too tiring for her, but apparently he’d changed his mind sometime between last night and that moment.

“yeah, i figured… she’d be a good guide if we go hiking,”

“oh, she’ll be the best girl,” she crouched down, petting the dog and scratching behind her ears. “go, angie,” she opened the backseat door for her to climb in. “you’re the best,” she was quick to wrap both arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. with that, she walked to the passenger side and climbed in, leaving him with flushed cheeks and a frantic heart.

the car ride was fun, they sang to the playlist they’d made a day before, he laughed when she claimed three songs in a row to be her favorite. she sang at the top of her lungs, making dramatic facial expressions and giving a full performance. her throat hurt by the time they arrived at their camping site.

“shut the fuck up,” she gasped, looking at the view. “this is gorgeous!” her mouth was wide open, she turned to her side, finding mick smirking at her. “i want to live here forever,” she declared.

“it’s great, isn’t it?” she nodded excitedly, “there’s a lake a few minutes down, we can go there tomorrow if you like.”

“obviously! i want to see it all, i don’t want to was a single second,” she grabbed her phone, taking pictures and a short video of her view. she panned the camera from her window, to the other side of the car, where mick was holding on to the steering wheel with one hand, the other was tapping against his leg, following the beat of the song playing in the background. he noticed her, looked at her, and smiled, and after she grinned back, he threw her a wink. “ugh, mick, gross,” she teased and stopped recording.

“what?” his chest moved up and down as he laughed, she shook her head.

“stop trying to be cute, i am immune to your charms,” it was now her turn to wink at him, a smile on her face as she returned her attention outside.

mick wanted to die.

she kept replaying that wink in her mind.

“are you almost done?”

“i would if someone helped me out.”

“i am helping!” she answered, throwing a marshmallow at him. he narrowed his eyes and slowly turned his head to the side. “i’m making dinner.”

“sorry to break it to you, but smores aren’t dinner,” mick stood up from where he was currently trying to set up a tent for them. he patted his hands on his jeans, walking to her. she had a frown on her face, and a small pout on her lips.

“than you’re not getting any.” she turned away, returning her attention to the sweet desserts she’d be enjoying later that night.

“no, please,” he begged, sitting in front of her on the bench, with one leg on each side, “you’ve been bragging about them for months now,”

“well, you should’ve been nicer,” she raised an eyebrow, “bad boys don’t get their reward,” the words slipped out of her mouth without noticing, it took her three seconds, filled with silence, to realize what she’d said. she didn’t move, keeping her eyes on her task, but was aware of every movement mick made.

“fine, i’m sorry, and i promise i’ll be good from now on.” he said, leaning forward, placing his chin on her shoulder. her breath hitched and she tried her best to play it cool. “better?” his breath hit her skin, the hairs on her neck threatening to rise.

“better,” she bit her lip as she tilted her head a little, his forehead hit the side of her temple, and he wished he could’ve stayed there forever. “now go back and build our home for the night, it’s starting to get dark,”

“yes ma'am,” mick leaned back. “although, there’s a perfectly good cabin right there, with everything we might need,”

"yes, but you promised me a real camping experience, and that includes the tent. the cabin is only for showers. plus, i am in charge here, mick, better get it through that pretty head of yours soon," her words made him chuckle, he only nodded in reply and stood up, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his chest.

she watched him walk away, still wishing to feel his forehead against her, missing his warmth.

“oh my god,” mick’s eyes went wide.

“i know,” she nodded her head up and down, slowly, a grin on her face.

“oh my god,” he repeated, staring at the sweet in his hand. “this is really good,”

“it’s my specialty,” she shrugged, the proud look on her face accompanied her smug smile. “can you believe you almost missed this?”

“it would’ve been a pity. i am sorry for saying this wasn’t dinner,” he placed a hand on his chest, over his heart. she chuckled.

“you know i would’ve shared them with you anyway,” she shrugged, “but it’s about time you let yourself break your diet even for just a few days,”

“it’s not that bad once you get used to it. but you’re right, it has been a while since i’ve had one of these,” mick started, his eyes focused on the flames in front of them. they sat on the bench, next to each other. it was dark now, with no other sound other than the fire cracking in front of them.

“thank you for bringing me here. you know i would’ve been fine just going wherever you went, or staying at your place,” a few seconds passed before she spoke, she’d tilted her head to the side, and had a soft look on her face.

“you don’t need to thank me,” he smiled, throwing an arm around her shoulders, “besides, i wouldn’t have been a good host if i just dragged you wherever i wanted or needed to go. plus, look at this,” he pointed up to the sky, where a million little stars were shining, like tiny lights, like-

“a diamond sky,” she said, looking up, a soft smile on her face.

“where else will you get a view like this?” he asked, moving his head slightly, watching as she still looked up at the sky as he spoke. his heart was beating frantically in his chest, as he realized the double meaning behind his words. yes, at first he referred to the sky and the stars decorating it, but he also spoke about her. the way her lips curled up softly, her curious eyes inspecting the starry night. he thought about his own question, where else would he get a view like that?

the next day, mick woke up to the sound of laughter and barking.

he exited the tent, rubbing his eyes with his knuckle to adjust to the light. a smile formed on his face instantly.

her hair was messy, she was still wearing her pjs, and was running around their camp site with angie trailing behind her.

“go get it, girl,” she said as she threw a ball, running after the dog as angie sprinted towards it. when they returned, mick was already up. “hey, sleepyhead,” she smiled at him.

“you’re not wearing shoes,” he noted.

“i know. i hated it at first, but your fluffy baby wouldn’t even let me put on socks before she brought me her toys. it’s kinda cool once you get used to it,”

“well, i’l make sure my fluffy baby let’s you have some time to yourself so you can get ready first,”

“you’re soooo kind,” she placed both hands on his face, squeezing his cheeks together.

later, they set off for a hike down to the lake, and to say she was excited would be an understatement.

“i want to stay here forever!” she claimed, tossing her backpack on the ground as she ran around. mick let angie off her leash and let her run freely. “this is gorgeous,” she took a second to breathe deeply, admiring the sights that surrounded her.

“i know. i knew you’d like it here,” he grinned, sitting on the grass, holding his water bottle in his hand. she walked and sat next to him, shoulders touching.

“you’re the best. i can’t imagine my life without you in it. you’ve changed it forever,”

his breath hitched, he knew she was talking about his friendship, but a part of him couldn’t help but wish it was for something… more.

“i'm happy you're part of my life, i can't remember what it was like before all the late night talks, the random rants and messages at all hours of the day, but i wouldn't change it for the world," he smiled, first staring at the calm water a few meters away from them, then turning to face her, who had a bright sparkle in her eyes. her hand touched his, an involuntary movement that took both of them by surprise. they'd been affectionate before, but it had always been playful, or during casual conversation, never during a moment like that, when time seemed to stop, when the seconds of her fingertips grazing the back of his hand felt like an eternity.

nothing could ruin that moment, with a beautiful scenery, the sun shining on them, a tension that was starting to build up, encouraging them to-

"angie, stop!" the australian shepherd ran to them at full speed, and started running around them, barking as she tried to get them to play with her. “i’m going, i’m going,” mick said as he got up, grabbing a ball from his backpack and throwing it away, he chuckled as the dog ran towards it.

mick looked down at his friend, who was still sitting on the grass.

“you want to play?” he asked, she was staring at nothing in particular, but she seemed to be deep in thought. mick frowned, reaching down to touch her shoulder, “hey, you okay?” he asked as she pulled herself out of her thoughts.

“yeah, sorry,” she gave him a quick, small smile. “just…thinking.”

“i can see that,” he chuckled, “penny for your thoughts?” he offered his hand, and she grabbed it to help herself up. he raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to answer, but she just shook her head and chased after angie.

later, once the sun was gone and they were back at their camping site, mick found his friend lying on the ground, her eyes focused on the sky above. he approached her, sitting down and crossing his legs beneath him.

“you’ve been quiet all day,” he told her, “is… everything all right? did- did i-”

“you’ve been great.” she interrupted him, her fingers resting on her stomach, she played with them as she looked at the stars as if they held the answer to all her questions, all the thoughts in her head. “honestly. i- i don’t think…” she started, “i don’t think i’ve ever felt like this before. i know that it… it might sound dumb but i- no one’s ever done what you’ve done for me these past few days.” she turned her head to the side, catching his eyes, “you’ve made me feel welcomed in your home, in your life.”

“you are. of course you are. i told you, you’re… one of the most important people in my life. and… this is nothing compared to all the things i’d do for you. i- i think i would do anything in my power to make sure you’re happy, to make sure you feel… loved, and wanted.”

“that’s… that’s the thing,” she said, moving her eyes back to the shiny dots, “you do make me feel like that. and i- it scares me.” she let out a deep breath.

“why?” he asked, “you shouldn’t be afraid of people showing their appreciation for you,”

“i know, but what if… what if my love is… more?”

mick didn’t answer, he couldn’t form coherent sentences not even in his mind, he was only aware of a tingling feeling on his fingertips.

“i’m afraid of loving someone so much… it hurts to breathe when i’m without them. of feeling so attached to someone, and not… getting that in return.”

she thought she’d feel like a weight had been lifted off her, but instead, she felt like she was being crushed.

“you know what i… what i thought the first time we met?” mick asked. she didn’t look at him, only shook her head. “i thought you were… so effortlessly funny, kind, smart. i thought ‘this is someone i want in my life for the rest of my days.’ you have no idea how thrilled i was that you wanted to be my friend. it- it felt like when you’re little and it’s just so easy to make friends with anyone. loving you feels like that, it feels easy and… without complications. loving you is knowing that i can always count on you, despite time difference, distance. loving you is… the reason i wake up every day. and yes, loving someone like this is terrifying, but it’s beautiful and it gives me a reason to keep working on myself. to be the best version of myself, for you. because you deserve… someone who loves you unconditionally and can give you all the love you need, who can give you back all the love you give the world.”

she shut her eyes, squeezing them tightly as she tried to breathe.

“and… if i didn’t screw this whole thing up, or i wasn’t clear enough, i would like to be that person. i’ve wanted to be that person since last summer. i just… didn’t know it yet.”

the first thing she saw as she opened her eyes, were the stars. shining so bright, twinkling against a sea of darkness. slowly, she moved her head, her eyes meeting a new pair of stars, only these were a clear blue, and were staring nervously at her.

“say it again,” her voice was something barely above a whisper. he leaned towards her, his face close to hers.

“if you let me, i would love to show you, each day and night, how much i love you.”

“and how much is that?” she couldn’t help but ask. mick chuckled, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“do you hear that?” he asked, she frowned, staying silent for a few seconds.

“angie snoring?”

“yeah, i love you equally, if not more than i love her,”

“that’s… a lot,” she was aware of how much his pets meant to him, and that realization only made her feel like her heart would burst out of her chest at any moment.

“so… you don’t have to be afraid of not getting that love back, because i will love you until i run out of love to give.”

“won’t you get tired? of me?”

“never. the best part of my day is seeing your name on my phone, hearing your voice, and now that you’re here… spending time with you is the only thing i want to do.”

“when i touched your hand… earlier,” she blinked, “it felt… right. like it was meant to hold yours.”

“maybe it was.” he said, his fingertips brushing against her arm, as he slid them down towards her hand. “can i?”

she didn’t answer, only moved her hand so her palm was facing up. she nearly shivered at the feeling of his fingers against it. they traveled slowly, exploring her skin. when he slid his fingers in the gaps between hers, it felt like a missing piece had been found.

“it’s perfect,”

“will you?” he asked.

“what?” she whispered.

“let me love you like you deserve to be loved.”

she smiled as the air left her lungs, her free hand went up to his neck, bringing him down.

“only if you allow me to love you back the same way.”

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sacredstarcatcher · 10 months

Text

Cruel Summer - Part 10

Jake x Reader x Sam

Warnings: Phone sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, tourism.

A/N: Thank you for being along for the ride as I published my first ever fic. I love all of you who enjoyed my silly garbage story and look forward to someday writing more for you, if you'll have me. (Please send requests lol) Again, thank you to my inspiring best friends who fed me ideas and and answered all my silly "what if?" questions. Also, thank you for giving me grace and extra time on this last one, it's twice as long as all the other chapters! :P

The morning comes sooner than anticipated. When you wake up, Sam is no longer in his bed, but you hear the faint sound of his voice as he mumbles to Rosie flowing into the bedroom. You stretch and yawn, getting up to brush your teeth and wash your face. It’s hard not to think of Jake, how he’s feeling, what he might be doing, how he’s processing all of this… but you decide to push it aside. There’s seemingly nothing else you can do for him.

You pad across Sam’s wooden floors barefoot, back into the bedroom. You take your phone off the charger and unlock it, wondering if Jake had maybe reached out overnight. Not thinking of him is obviously not going well.

What you’re met with when you open your phone and switch off the Do Not Disturb setting is not Jake. It’s an influx of notifications for likes and comments on “a post you’re tagged in”, the red number on the instagram icon growing every few seconds. You panic, opening the app to see what the hell is going on.

As it opens, you see a photo of the waterfall you visited with Sam two weeks ago. You swipe left and the next photo is a picture of Danny, Sam holding out his beer bottle from behind the camera to clink against Danny’s glass of beer mid-spill. You swipe again, and it’s a photo of the pickles you made together, Sam’s big hand wrapped around the jar, the sunlight reflecting off of it. Then, you swipe once more, and it all becomes clear.

The last slide is a photo of you and Rosie. You’re in the #1 Dad shirt Sam thrifted for you, tucked into your silly vintage elastic denim shorts. You’re kneeling in the garden next to her, your hair in two french braids. Your eyes are hidden behind your heart shaped glasses but your smile conveys more than enough emotion. It’s candid; you’re looking down at her and her tongue sticking out as she pants in the summer sun, her eyes on Sam as always. It looks like she’s posing for the picture, and you’re completely unaware, your hand on her affectionately, mid-scratch.

He took it that day… The day you had first kissed, the day you had come to terms with your developing feelings for him and were met with rejection. You had spent that day together, a seemingly boring day running errands and chores, but he spent every second trying to cheer you up, trying to get you to forget all the stress you were under, between the loneliness you felt from Jake’s absence and the pressures of your job. You stare at the photo, remembering the day, remembering the feeling.

Your memory flashes to the way he rejected you. The way he told you he was just leaning on you for emotional fulfillment his girlfriend at the time wasn’t giving him. It hurt you for days; you thought you had spent that entire day imagining the chemistry and connection between the two of you like a delusional, love-sick teenager.

Seeing this photo now, from the perspective that shows exactly how he saw you as the sun shone down on your funky outfit and smiling face, the way he saw you and thought you were so perfect he needed a picture to remember the moment… it seems to heal a part of you that was hurt or doubting.

Then, you come back to the present. Hundreds, no, thousands of people now know who you are. It’s a good thing your profile was already private, because he was generous enough to tag you in the photo. Maybe you wouldn’t let him out the door last night to wallop his older brother, so he did this to get back at him the best way he could without putting you through too much turmoil. You scurry out of the bedroom, stopping to stand in front of the breakfast bar where Sam is sitting.

“Good morning!” he says, taking a bite of a banana.

“What did you do?” you ask with a laugh, your eyes going back and forth between his face and the comments on your screen.

“Oh fuck, did you want the last banana?” he asks as he chews nonchalantly, but there’s a small, dignified smile on his face as he holds it out to you. “You can have the other half.”

“I’m talking about your 4am instagram post, actually. You can have the banana.” You stroll to the counter to grab the coffee pot, but he stops you.

“Hey wait.” His voice is boyish and light. “I already made you some.” He slides the mug across the counter to you gently. “Heard you were up a little while ago.” His gentle smile and his sweet voice are a soothing balm to any and all of your anxieties.

“Thank you, Sammy.”

You smile at him over the rim of your mug. It’s not just a thank you for the coffee. The sweetness of his very public gesture, even if it may have been powered by possessiveness after everything that happened last night, was special to you.

He stands to toss his banana peel in the trash, then comes around to pull you in closer around your shoulders. There’s a content smile on your face and an indescribable warmth in your heart as he kisses the top of your head.

-oOo-

When the dreaded day you have to say goodbye to Sam comes, you find yourself sitting on top of his suitcase in protest as he stands behind you, arms around your shoulders. Rosie is sniffing around the yard, unphased.

“Gonna miss you, pretty girl.” He mumbles into your hair, and you lean your head against him and nod, your hands coming up to hold his arms. “You better take good care of all my plants. Gotta sing to them. It’s important.”

Even though you’re sad, you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Inside and outside? The neighbors will call a wellness check if they hear me.”

Before he can answer and tell you your singing voice is beautiful to him, the van rolls up. You sigh, knowing this is it. Danny hops out of the driver’s seat and both twins emerge from the back. It’s a tense moment as Jake locks eyes with you, but he quickly averts his gaze.

“Please tell me you’re going to visit us,” Josh says as Sam walks off to put his luggage into the back. You smile, nodding.

“I will, I will. I’ll come out and see you at a few dates, probably.” You’re not lying, but you don’t exactly have anything planned. “It’s only two months. You’ll survive without me.” Josh laughs, looking into your eyes with a raised brow.

“You severely underestimate the manner in which multiple members of this godforsaken band rely on you. Myself included, dearest.” He smirks and pulls you in for a hug, squeezing tightly.

Danny and Jake stand in the grass a few feet away, chatting and playing with Rosie. Your heart hurts just a little.

“I’ll come see you. I promise.” You smile at him, pulling away from the hug. It’s quiet for a second. “Is he in a good mood today? Should I go say goodbye?”

Josh smirks, tilting his head. He knows exactly who you’re talking about.

“I’m not qualified to answer. You’re on your own there.” He laughs a little loudly as he walks away and it catches Jake’s attention. It wouldn’t be right if you didn’t say goodbye, so you put on a brave face and approach Danny first to say goodbye. He immediately offers you a hug.

“Please make sure Sam behaves,” you say over his shoulder as you squeeze each other tightly in a hug. “He’s trying to quit smoking for good this time. I know he’s not going to tell you so I am.”

Danny laughs as you pull back from the hug, giving you a salute. “I’ll hold him to it.”

He knows what’s coming, so he takes his leave, walking over to the van. He starts trying to usher Rosie into the back.

A sigh leaves your chest, turning to look at Jake. He’s got his sunglasses on, his hands in his pockets. You’ve seen each other a few times since that fateful night, but it’s been tense. He and Sam are still avoiding each other for the most part. You meet his eyes over the rim of his dark, round sunglasses, and he’s raising his eyebrows, as if he’s waiting for you to speak first.

“Did you remember to pack your phone charger this time?” you ask. He chuckles, looking down, nodding.

“Yeah. Trying to avoid buying a fifth one.” You smile at that, feeling just a little of the tension release. The silence reemerges though, the two of you avoiding each other’s stare as you look at the grass below or the happenings behind you. You sigh, knowing it can’t be like this forever.

You say his name quietly in an attempt to focus him. He doesn’t lift his head, but his eyes flick up quickly to meet yours.

“You don’t have to forgive me. But you have to forgive Sam.” You pause, your voice a little quieter before you continue. “He’s your brother.”

Jake’s lingering smile fades and he chews on his cheek. “I know he is.” His tone is a little smarmy, as if he’s twisting the knife.

Okay, you deserved that.

“Just.. Please. I want you guys to enjoy yourselves. Go back to the way things were. Like I never existed.”

Jake nods, lifting his head from the grass. “Tall order. But I’ll work on it.”

It’s taking everything in you not to word vomit another ten apologies, but you know it won’t help, so you don’t. Instead, you give him a sincere smile and wish him well. Genuinely.

“I hope you have a good time. I know you’ll be great.” Your voice is weak and your heart is heavy.

Before you have a chance to see his face or feel any worse, you step off, heading towards Sam and interrupting his conversation with Danny. It looks like Sam intervened and got Rosie inside the van and she’s sitting contently in her seat.

“Sorry for holding you guys up,” you say as Sam wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

“Not a problem, pretty girl. We’re still running on schedule, surprisingly enough.” Danny breaks off, getting the keys back out and heading to start the car. Sam squeezes gently at the flesh of your side, urging you to turn into his arms. “Now kiss me like you’ll miss me.”

You say your goodbyes and watch the van pull away, leaving you in front of Sam’s house alone.

-oOo-

The first week flies by. You start back at work, decorating your classroom. You Facetime Sam as much as his schedule allows. Sometimes that looks like you eating dinner across from a phone propped up against a wine glass. Sometimes it’s folding laundry while you peek down at him in the corner of the screen. Sometimes it’s propping your phone up on the white board in your classroom as you hop up on desks and hang bulletin board borders and bubble letters, fastening the alphabet to run along the top of the walls. He never runs out of things to talk about- he constantly chats on about what he’s up to, what they’re doing on their time off, and of course, Rosie. When he’s not asking about you, of course.

It’s lonely at night, and you realize that about 5 days in. You stand in the kitchen of Sam’s empty home and it’s eerily silent. You’ve watered all of his plants for the evening, and it’s still neat and tidy the way he left it. An urge comes over you to step into his bedroom, and when you do, it physically hurts your heart.

It smells like him. Just a little. Like when he’s in the shower and the smell of his soap is sneaking out of the crack beneath the bedroom door. Like a diluted version of what you experience when you hug him close and breathe him in. There’s nothing in the world that could stop you as you fall into his bed, holding tight to his pillow. Sam is thousands of miles away. It’s almost midnight where he is, and here you are, about to cry in his bed at 7pm.

As your phone starts to vibrate, you scramble and answer, relieved to see Sam’s name on your screen.

“Hey.” Your voice immediately conveys that you’re feeling a little down.

“Hey you. What’s up?” he asks, his voice taking on a sympathetic tone.

“Oh, nothing. I just finished watering your plants. Your house is lonely without you.” You send a big sigh through the receiver. “Somehow I ended up in your bed. It smells like you.”

“Oh, just break my heart, why don’t you?!” he says. You can’t see him, but he’s clutching his heart and playing dead. Your laugh in response is half hearted, but genuine.

“Sorry, sorry. I had every intention of getting up, drying my tears, remaking your bed, and watering your Japanese money plant on the way out. You would have never known if you didn’t call me.” You make light of the situation, getting cozy under his blankets as you chat to him.

“Hey, you can stay. You know, you should actually. My bed probably misses you as much as I do.” You hear him rustling around in his hotel bed halfway around the world. You hug the pillow tight, the smell of him making your heart swell.

“Maybe just for a little while.” The tone of your voice conveys that you’re planning to be wrapped in his sheets for the foreseeable future. You sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before he speaks. “It’s lonely without you, though.”

“You know if I could, I’d be your big spoon until the sunrise.” His voice is a little quieter, a little lower now. He’s alone, but he’s making sure you know his words are only for you. “Miss being able to wake up and just feel you next to me.” He sighs, and your heart starts to pound a little.

“Yeah?” You’re not sure why, but the tone of his voice, despite his mostly innocent words, has flipped a switch in you. He can tell- the way you subtly ask him to continue is laced with the slightest bit of want and he picks up on it immediately.

“Oh, you really miss me.” A self-satisfied chuckle comes through the phone. You feel your cheeks get hot when he calls you out.

“I do.” It comes out like more of a whine.

“What do you miss, pretty girl?” He’s baiting you, and it’s impossible to resist. You respond immediately.

“Your hands, your fingers,” you let out, a little breathless.

He responds with a pleased hum. “Laying in my bed, thinking about how it feels when I sneak my hands into your panties late at night?” As you exhale sharply, a moan escapes you. He hears it and it’s off to the races. “Touch yourself. Go ahead. I know you want to imagine it’s me.”

Your next words come out a little choppy and there’s a bit of a laugh laced between them. “Not as good. Not the same.” You touch yourself teasingly, imagining exactly what he suspected. You fantasize that it’s him, touching you after he’s finally come to bed after you, gently slipping into bed and pulling your back tight to his chest, his hands wandering. You moan a little louder now, letting him hear what the thought of him does to you.

“Fuck,” he groans, and you know that the movement you hear now is him repositioning himself so he can do exactly what you are, thousands of miles away.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, prodding, needing to hear more of the deliciously dirty thoughts in his head. You know the answer but you’re not quite ready to be that direct.

“Do I miss you? I think about you every minute of the fucking day, pretty girl. God, I’d give anything to fuck you right now. Just the way you like.” You hear a muffled groan on the other end and it sends a wave of pleasure through you, the thought of him wanting you that badly.

“The way I like?” You ask, wanting him to tell you. He’s onto your game and he gives you a dirty chuckle in response.

“You know what I mean,” he drawls, voice laced with mischief. “When I push your leg back juuuust right and get ahold of your sweet spot,” he continues, panting a little.

“Mhm,” you respond, touching yourself more urgently now, encouraging him to keep going. He swallows thickly and you hear a moan escape him as if he’s losing control. “I- I do like that..” you confess.

“I know you do. It makes you so wet I can hear it, every time,” he divulges. “Music to my fucking ears.”

“Oh,” you let out in a high pitched whine, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, but still a little shocked at his words. It makes your stomach flip as you recall the sight of him up on his knees looking down at you, pressing your leg back into your chest as he fucks into you slow and deep.

“Miss those little fucked out sounds you make,” he says through his teeth. “When you say my name.”

“Sammy,” you pant out immediately, your breathing ragged, giving you away.

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asks, and you know he’s getting close. “I can hear it in your voice, pretty girl.”

His use of your pet name combined with the filth dripping from his voice is the only push you need, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm pulls a raunchy moan from your chest, the drag of it past the back of your throat will make you hoarse tomorrow as a reminder.

“There we go,” he praises from the other side of the Earth. “Oh, fuck.” Muffled moans and gasps come across the line into your ear, making your heart nearly stop.

“Oh my god,” you say, breathless. “That was…”

“Yeah.” His voice is quiet and playful again as he giggles quietly. “Jesus.” He clears his throat, his voice now a little raspy and laced with sleep. “Surprisingly enough, that is not why I called.” His laugh is contagious as you come down slowly, the fog clearing from your mind. “I was wondering if you’d come out here next weekend. Catch up with us in Paris.”

“Oh, wow. I… I think I could make that work.” You’re sure he can hear your smile through the line.

“Good. Great. Amazing! I’ll have someone get in touch with you about details?” He groans a little, and you know the sound so well, it’s clear he’s stretching.

“I can’t wait.” You pause for a moment. “It’s so late where you are. You should get some rest.”

“I know, I know. I’m gonna go try. You sleeping at my place tonight?”

“I think I might.” There’s no chance you’re leaving now.

“Sleep well, pretty girl. I love you.”

-oOo-

You watch out the window of the car as it drives through the streets of Paris, marveling at the beauty before you. It’s not lost on you how special it is that Sam made arrangements to bring you all the way out here to see him for two days in the middle of their European leg.

He’s standing outside of the hotel when you pull up; he’s in a low cut leopard print shirt, his black pants tied with a shoelace belt he’s probably using because he didn’t pack a real one. You smile, hopping out of the back seat and charging towards him. Sammy squats down, catching you around your thighs, lifting you up as he giggles.

“Hi, handsome,” you mumble with a smile, pushing his hair behind his ear. He grins up at you, holding you tightly. It’s seconds before you lean down and kiss his lips a little forcefully, cupping his cheek in your hand. He puts you down, looking you over in front of him. Your yellow sundress and sneakers make his heart jump.

“Look at you.” He pulls you in under his arm, kissing the top of your head. “You get prettier while I was away?” he says, giving you a faux scrutinous glare. You can’t help but blush, rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

“I could say the same to you..” He’s tan and glowing, the European sun clearly being kind to him. His hair is shining in the sunlight and his facial hair is fuller, neater than it was as you were enjoying time off in the summer.

“You flatter me, gorgeous.” He releases you, grinning. “They’ll take your bags upstairs. We have plans today, so we gotta go.”

“I’m following you,” you say, smiling as you tilt your chin up, wanting just one more kiss.

The first stop is lunch. It’s straight out of a movie, the sight before you. Sam sits in a wrought iron chair across the table, sipping a fruity drink, the view behind him almost as breathtaking as he is. You snap a picture of him after he hands his camera across the table. You know how to use it now- he’s carefully instructed you enough times that you’re comfortable enough.

You eat more than you should and indulge in a few drinks. The two of you are somehow more flushed and smiley as you leave than you were when you arrived. He holds your hand in the back of the car as you make your way to the next stop.

As you exit the car, he laces his fingers with yours as you walk, sunglasses on, camera around his neck. You look like two tourists straight out of a Sky Mall catalog.

“So, this isn’t the Eifell tower, but I think you’re going to like this view better. We can still go there if you want, but… You’ll see. ” It’s sweet, the way he’s showing you around the city he’s already seen, carefully considering what you would like, not just checking off all the traditional visitor boxes.

“This is the Sacre-Coeur Basilica,” he says, trudging up the steps. “Means Sacred Heart. It’s built on the highest hill in Paris.” You reach the top, turning around to see a wide, panoramic view of the city. It’s beautiful- the sun behind you allowing you to stare without squinting.

“If you want, we can go inside and climb up the dome to see even more.” He smiles, pointing up to the top.

“Seriously?” you ask, grinning. He doesn’t need to hear anything else- he pulls you closer and leads you inside.

The afternoon turns into evening, Golden Hour fast approaching. You meander through the Musee d’Orsay together, cracking silly jokes about some of the more interesting art. You scan the walls with wide eyes, taking in real life Monet and Van Gogh, holding Sam close by the waist as he leads you around under his arm.

The two of you scale the upper level of the museum, looking at the sunset through the giant clocks. You can’t help but take in the sight of him as you snap a few pictures, the orange sun just driving home the fact that you find him more beautiful than any of the art you’ve laid eyes on today. He catches you raking your eyes over him and gives you a sly smile. He comes behind you, leaning you against the balcony that overlooks the view, a hand on either side of you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, kissing the shell of your ear. You blush, tilting your head closer to him.

“Can’t say. I’ll get arrested.” You lean back with a little giggle, not so subtly pushing your ass against him. He lets out a sharp exhale at the contact, his hand shooting to your hip to steady you, pulling himself back.

“You better not.” His warning goes for the way you’re touching him and for the potential arrest. “We have dinner plans. And I like these pants.” You laugh, feeling mischievous.

“Well you’re no fun,” you answer, turning around, his arms still trapping you in place. You hook your fingers into his shoelace belt, pulling him closer. “I thought you said you missed me.” You ghost your lips over his, tempting him.

He lets out a playful growl, his hand cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him. He uses the other to hold your neck and pull you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You let out a tiny squeak, hands moving to his waist to pull him closer.

As he breaks the kiss, he lets go of you, mumbling under his breath with a smirk. “Jesus christ. Tightest fucking pants in the world.” He pulls at them, laughing. You can’t help but giggle along, flattening your dress. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You leave the museum, both of you a little flustered and more than ready for a glass of wine. It’s a short drive to the restaurant Sam’s chosen, a wonderful spot along the Seine river. As it gets darker, the lights along the river and through the city are gorgeous and create the most romantic atmosphere. It’s impossible for you to stop smiling as you sit across from Sam, still reeling from the perfect day spent together.

“So, I was doing some thinking the other day.” Sam sips his wine and looks across the table, reaching for your hand. You look at him with attentive eyes, taking his hand, resting your chin in your other palm.

“The day after you spent the night at my place.” You remember, nodding. He seems serious. Immediately, worry floods into the cracks in your brain. He speaks again, squeezing your hand, as if he can sense it. “I was just thinking that maybe it would make more sense if… you moved in with me. It feels like we’re keeping up with two separate, shared places… spending every night together at either one of them…” He’s a little nervous now, as if he’s not sure how you’re going to react. “I don’t know, I just thought maybe it was worth talking about.”

You grin at him, waiting for him to finish. He leans back in his chair, looking at you. “What do you think?

“I think that makes a lot of sense.” It’s hard to hide your smile- not that you have to. “Then I don’t have to water 900 plants over two different places of residence.”

Sam’s eyes soften, his slightly crooked smile on full display. “I want you to know,” he begins, the sincerity in his eyes almost pleading. “I’m serious. About us, about being together. About everything. I know my past doesn’t really help plead my case,” he says, rolling his eyes, “but I mean it. There’s no other girl like you. You’re it for me. And I mean that.”

It never ceases to amaze you, the way it feels like he can read your mind. Any anxiety, any worry, any doubt you have, he will eventually sniff out and eradicate it. He knows the deepest parts of you without having to ask, without you having to offer them up to him. Sam is in touch with every part of you, mind, body, and soul, and there’s nothing left for you to doubt about him now.

“Sammy,” you say, touched by his words. You tilt your head and smile, pulling his hand up to your face, holding it in both of your own. “You’re everything to me.”

His eyes light up as he leans forward, grinning. There hasn’t been a single moment in your entire life where your heart has felt more full than this very second.

“I love you, my pretty girl. My forever girl.” You place a kiss to the back of his hand, cheeks pink and glowing.

“I love you, Sammy.”

-oOo-

The two of you enjoy a celebratory dinner and a bottle and a half of wine. It’s all giggles and stumbles as you head back to the car, the driver waiting patiently as you said you would be done with dinner and drinks 45 minutes prior.

The second you step into the elevator of the hotel, it’s all hands and kisses and giggles. The door slides open and Sam laughs, trying to wrangle you. “Alright, alright,” he says, scrunching his neck up with a laugh as you place kisses on his warm, tan skin. He pulls you out of the elevator and you follow, giggling all the way down the hall.

When you reach the door, he pins you up against it while he fishes the key card out of his pocket. “Don’t think I forgot about the stunt you pulled up in the clock tower,” he whispers into your ear, his voice low, just for you. You reply with a fake gasp, feigning innocence.

“I didn’t pull any stunts, Sammy.” You do the exact thing you did in the clock tower and press yourself against him again. He groans, finally getting the door open. He hugs you tightly around your waist so you don’t fall forward before corralling you inside.

“You’re a shitty liar.” He leads you to the bed, tossing you backwards and you land with a giggle. He stands over you, quickly unlacing your hightops and tossing them across the room. He wastes no time pulling up your sundress, stealing your panties and sliding them down your legs. “You’re lucky I don’t feel like arguing.”

You watch him as he pulls his shirt, the buttons barely putting up a fight. He tosses it to the side, then immediately descends between your legs. You can’t even get a word out- the first stroke of his tongue against you emptying your head of any thought you might have had. It’s long, languid, and slow, as if he’s savoring the taste of you.

Soon enough, he finds his footing and re-centers himself, picking up the pace. You cry out at the feeling and it causes him to flick his eyes up to you, watching through his dark lashes as you completely surrender to his mercy. He’s staring in awe, his hazy eyes making him look almost drunk on the taste of you. His hands are under your thighs, holding your hips tightly, the tip of his perfect upturned nose moving in and out of sight as he tastes every inch of you. He pulls one hand away, deciding to slip two fingers into you with ease. You gasp, letting a wanton moan fly from your lips.

Your hand travels to his hair and gives a gentle tug. The action pulls a low rumble from him, the feeling against you pulling you closer and closer.

It’s probably the fastest he’s ever brought you to your end- he’s determined. Every lick, every movement, perfectly calculated and all for you. You’re so close, arching your back with a hand tightly in his hair, when he releases, pulling back from you with a lewd pop and smack of his lips.

You look up at him, brow knitted up, cheeks hot as you catch your breath. Before you have a chance to complain, he leans over you, his lips crashing into yours. It’s not a chaste kiss by any means. He slips his tongue against your lips and into your mouth. The taste of him and the taste of yourself concocting something so sinful you can’t help but savor it.

“You taste how sweet you are, pretty girl?” he asks, panting as he breaks from you. He looks down at you with dark eyes before he slides his two fingers into your mouth. Without question, you clean them off. “That’s my girl,” he praises as you bat your eyelashes up at him, making a display of yourself as you suck on as much of his long fingers as you can fit in your mouth. He groans at the feeling, then takes them back, replacing them with his tongue as he kisses you again. Your hands sneak down to his shoelace belt and start to mess with it, but he pulls away, opting to do it himself. You move to pull your dress off, but he stops you with a single sentence.

“Leave it on.”

You pant as you look up at him. He pulls his pants off, looking down at you with a smirk.

“You teased me in that little dress all day. Now I’m gonna fuck you in it.” He descends upon you again, pressing himself against your core, but not pushing inside just yet. “...If you ask nicely.”

“Sammy, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him. He pulls at the top of your dress, which luckily has some stretch, and it’s seconds before your nipple is in his mouth. He smiles against you, starting to push inside, the feeling of him filling you so deliciously sending your brain into overdrive.

“God, I missed this tight little pussy. Fuck.” He pushes halfway in and sees your face- just a flicker of a wince, and he retreats, giving you a second to relax. “Gotta breathe for me, baby.” His thumb brushes against your clit, helping you along. He pushes in again, the feeling almost too much for him. You watch as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself in check.

He sighs once he’s fully inside you, pushing up to kneel over you. The angle presses him upwards and you cry out, walls fluttering around him. He had edged you earlier and you’re still close now. He feels it and a smug smile crosses his face.

“I think she missed me too,” he says, starting to move. You pant, hands fisting in the skirt of your yellow dress as you try and grapple for some sort of control or release. Either would be fine. “You think she did?” he asks, his hand grabbing onto your leg, thumb running circles against your calf. “Let’s see,” he says, making good on his word, pressing it backwards, his next stroke so deep and perfect it makes you see stars. He breathes raggedly as he fucks into you, watching your face contort.

It’s even better than you remember, the way he drags against the most sensitive, delicious spot deep inside you. He lets out a small chuckle and you look at him, wondering why. He shushes you gently, but keeps moving. You quiet your breathing and you hear it, exactly like he said you would. It’s vulgar, enough to make your cheeks turn pink. The sound of how you’re practically dripping around him, making an absolute mess of him. Your face is guilty and slightly embarrassed, but he doesn’t pay any mind. He laughs once more before he pulls your face gently to look at him. “Come on, baby. Let go for me.”

He knows exactly what he does to you- he pulls up on your hips, intensifying the angle that’s already driving you mad. He presses his hand down on your abdomen, not saying anything, but you know he’s feeling himself in the deepest part of you. You can’t help the way you whine, gasping for air as if there’s so much of him inside you there’s not enough room for a breath. He picks up the pace just slightly and that’s all it takes for the heat in your belly to spread, your climax taking you and dragging you under. You’re not sure how long it lasts or what comes out of your mouth, but you’re sure he’s pleased with himself based on the way he’s looking down at you, slowing his pace. He leans down, releasing your leg, and kisses you gently as he slowly thrusts into you, seeming to want to savor the feeling. He peppers your jaw and cheeks with kisses, petting your hair as you come down.

“Where’d rough Sammy go?” you ask, catching your breath.

“He’s on break.” He laughs quietly, kissing you gently on your lips. You giggle back, and he freezes, as if the muscles contracting as you laugh are bringing him dangerously close. “Want me to go get him?” he jokes, but his voice is strained.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice a little sluttier than you’d like to admit. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He pulls out of you quickly, pulling you up from where you are. “On your knees,” he says, and you listen, your hair falling down your back as you push it all out of your face. You look up at him with bright eyes, waiting. It’s seconds before he fists himself and pushes his cock into your mouth, the tip tasting of precum, the rest coated in you.

He’s not gentle- he’s immediately got a fist in your hair, and once you’re able, you’re taking as much of him as deep as you can. He hits the back of your throat repeatedly, your eyes squeezing shut. He watches you, his eyes burning the image into his memory. He pulls your head down by your hair once, holding it there until you gag. He pulls you off of him, letting you breathe for just a moment before his thumb hooks your bottom teeth, holding your mouth open. You look up at him with wide, teary, mascara streaked eyes, seeing his devilish smirk.

“You ready?” he asks, holding your mouth open. You nod to the best of your ability, keeping your mouth open as a small whimper escapes you. He leans down and spits into your mouth, making you flinch just a little, before letting go of your mouth and moving his fist to furiously stroke himself. It’s only moments before he’s spilling all over your tongue, pushing the tip of himself past your lips. A string of curses with your name tangled between leaves his parted lips as you close your own lips around him, swallowing every drop, rubbing your tongue against the underside of his cock. He whines, pulling away, feeling sensitive already.

You stare up at him, smiling sheepishly, wiping the side of your mouth with your thumb. He wordlessly pulls you to your feet and ushers you to the extravagant Parisian hotel bathroom, drawing you a bath.

-oOo-

While out visiting Sam, you didn’t see any of the other boys. As much as you hated to not visit Josh, you didn’t want to spare a second of your time for anyone but Sam. From what you could gather, things were getting better between him and Jake, so you didn’t want to cause a regression. It was a perfect weekend and you wouldn’t change a thing if you could.

The holidays approach quickly. They fly home a few days before Thanksgiving and get settled. That Wednesday, it’s been decided, you’re all set to go out drinking.

“Everyone goes out the night before Thanksgiving. Everyone.” Josh is explaining the lore behind the small town tradition of getting blackout drunk at bars in your home state the night before a family function. “You get to see all the fucks you knew in high school and get plastered, then eat your ass off the next day. It’s literally called Blackout Wednesday.”

You widen your eyes, shaking your head. “Sounds terrible. Also, you didn’t go to highschool here.”

Josh rolls his eyes, motioning with his hand. “Yes, smartass, but you get the point. That’s how the tradition started. Now let’s go. Daniel and Jake are meeting us there.” You nod, remembering you have to face Jake tonight. It’s been two months, and you’re praying he’s found it in his heart to at least forgive Sam.

You feel absolutely sick as you pull up to the bar, and it’s not because of the pre-game shots you took. The uber drops you off directly in front of a very familiar bar- the one where you met Jake months ago in the beginning of the summer. You feel the emotions wash over you as you step inside, the sticky floors and smell of industrial barkeeping cleaner flooding your senses and making you wonder if you’re going to survive the night.

It’s then that you realize you may stand a chance. Jake and Danny are across the bar, sitting at a long high top table. Jake’s smiling, legitimately smiling, teeth and all, as he waves you all down. They both get up, but Jake gets to you first, squeezing you tightly in a friendly hug over the top of your arms.

“Hi,” you say, laughing, surprised when he backs away. “Welcome home!” you say, grinning.

“Thank you, thank you. Happy to be back.” He pushes his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose and smirks. “Missed you, kid.”

You smile and look over at Sam, who took the seat next to Jake’s and is smiling as he watches the interaction. You look back at Jake with a smile filled with a metric ton of emotion. “I missed you too.”

You step backwards to hug Danny, and then get situated at the table. It feels right- it feels normal. It’s as if things have finally settled and you’re exactly where you need to be. You laugh as you watch them carry on, Jake and Sam sitting across from you, bickering and shouting and cracking jokes as they always do.

The server approaches with a round of beers, which of course prompts Josh into making a toast. He blathers on as you watch Jake and Sam out of the corner of your eye, smiling happily at the way they interact.

As Josh finishes his toast, you all clink your glasses together and go to drink. Sam and Jake, however, link arms and start to chug their beers in a bout of brotherly competition. You can’t help but grin and snap a candid picture of the two of them, Sam’s eyes staring into his glass, Jake’s off to the side. Jake wins, letting out a loud burp and slamming his glass down. You smile at the both of them, feeling whole again.

@reesetrippingthelight@samstopochico@jordie-gvf-admin@jakesgrapejuice@spark-my-nature@gvfcinema@joshysgirl@hellowgoodbye@ageofwagner@katelynn-gvf@ohgodthefeeling-gvf@fwzco

#danny gvf #forbidden twins #greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van smut #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #josh gvf #sammy kiszka #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fanfiction #samfkiszka #sam gvf

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wordsarelife · 4 months

Text

—back to december

pairing: quill kipps x fem!reader, ex!anthony lockwood x fem!reader

summary: you had left lockwood in a night filled with regret and there was nothing you wanted more than to apologise to him

warnings: angst, mention of unwellness, but not specified

notes: this got a bit more lockwood x reader (in a platonic way off) than i had planned lol. sorry :)

"so you're just going to leave?" he let go of your bag and had that look on his face again. a look that almost made you regret everything. but you wouldn't stay. you couldn't.

"i'm sorry" you said and with that you opened the door and left portland row, without ever coming back.

you woke up from someone softly shaking you. "what is wrong, love?" quill asked worriedly.

you looked at him confused, blinking at the light of the night lamp. "huh?"

"you were crying" quill explained

"oh" you adverted your eyes, trying not to think about lockwood and the dream you just had. you weren't going to think about your ex-boyfriend while you were laying in bed with your current one. "sorry, i woke you" you said quickly "it was just a bad dream"

"alright" quill pecked your lips, before he settled down again. you weren't able to go back to sleep, so you stood up and sat down on the couch in the living room, grabbing a book and trying to concentrate on something else.

you were sure those sudden dreams about lockwood and the night you left hadn't come out of nowhere.

there was this mission quill had mentioned. something that involved working with the agency head. of course quill knew about your past relationship, that's how you had met after all, but he had assured that you didn't have to see lockwood if you didn't want to.

"it's fine" you had said "i have to face him at one point"

quill had accepted your decision. you knew that you had to face lockwood, there was no way around it anymore, that didn't mean that you felt good though.

it had been a year since that night and you knew that it was your fault. you had known since that night that he atleast deserved an apology. something you hadn't been able to give him until now.

your relationship with quill had changed your perspective on a lot of things. it had made you realize that you were in a bad state during your relationship with lockwood. you had to llove yourself before you could love anyone else. you had made that clear to quill when you started going out. he had been nothing short of supportive and patient.

it's not that lockwood wouldn't have been, but you couldn't drag him into your mess. not when he had enough on his plate already.

the sun came up quicker than you had anticipated. "since when are you up?" quill walked into the living room barefoot.

"good morning" you smiled, craning your neck so he could kiss you "i wasn't able to go back to sleep after my nightmare"

"so bad huh?" he opened the drapes

"yeah" you shrugged

"was it about lockwood?" he could really read you better than anyone

you sighed, before you nodded

"you don't have to come" quill assured "i can take bobby"

"no" you shook your head "i want to come. i just feel so guilty"

quill's eyes grew softer when he turned to look at you. he sat down beside you and hugged you. "he will understand"

"he was good to me" you muttered "and i just walked away. without any explanation"

"you can explain now"

"i will" you nodded

later that day, you were standing in front of the door of portland row. quill knocked.

george opened the door and to your surprise he smiled and even hugged you. "y/n" he beamed "i haven't seen you in such a long time, how are you?"

"aren't you.. angry?" you threw a glance at quill, who just shrugged

"why would i be angry?" george made a motion for you two to enter the house "lockwood explained everything to us"

"he did?" you asked surprised

"y/n!" lucy rushed down the stairs and almost made you fall over by the force of the hug she was giving you.

you hugged her back. "hey" you muttered into her hair. the smell of the house and the smiles of your friends almost broke your heart. you had missed them. you had missed home.

"hey" lockwood said, entering the hall. he had grown a bit, his suit, that used to be too big, fitting him perfectly now. the bags under his eyes had disppeared and he looked a lot less tired.

"hi" lucy had loosened her hold on you.

"why don't we go into the kitchen to discuss the case?" lockwood suggested and you weren't able to do anything more than nod.

"so where did you find it?" quill pointed at the wrapped up mirror

"we can't tell you that" george crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair

"okay" quill nodded "did you steal it?"

"we also can't tell you that" lucy said excusingly

"well what can you tell us?" quill asked

during the encounter at the kitchen table. lockwood wasn't able to take his eyes off of you. he noticed that you looked healthier than the last time he had seen you. just like you had noticed the positive change about him.

your mind drifted off and you caught lockwoods eyes, who also seemed to be thinking about anything else.

"could we talk?" you whispered

lockwood nodded. "please excuse us" he said and you followed him out of the kitchen and into the library.

"you didn't change anything, did you?" you said, walking around the room and noticing that it was still the same that it had been all those months ago. even the photograph that pictured lockwood and you together hadn't left.

you took it into your hand, watching it closely. the photo had been taken by a stranger when lockwood and you had been on the london eye.

you had only thought about that day a month ago, when quill and you visited the london eye. the memory had hit you suddenly and almost ruined your entire day.

"i remeber this day" you muttered, putting the photo down in it's place

"i do too" lockwood said "a great day" "yeah" you turned around. "what did you tell george and lucy about me leaving?" you asked "i bet it wasn't the truth, no" you shook your head "they wouldn't treat me like this if it was" you looked at the door

"it wasn't exactly a lie either" lockwood shrugged "i told them that you needed time. that you weren't well and that you couldn't do that while you were here"

"lockwood" you muttered

"you look happy" he said "healthier and better than when we last talked"

"it's been so long" you mumbled

"a year and fourteen days" lockwood added "i thought about everything a lot"

"why aren't you screaming at me?" you asked with tears in your eyes "i just left and ruined everything"

"you did what you had to do"

"i hurt you"

"still"

"why do you always have to be this good to me?" you cried "why can't you just be angry?"

"because i'm not" he touched your arm to comfort you "and i won't pretend i am just because it's easier for you"

"i'm sorry" another tear escaped your eye "for everything. i wish i could go back and change things, i'm sorry fur hurting you"

"i know" he hugged you

"i wish i could've loved you right"

"i do too" he admitted "but i know that back then you weren't able to do that, even if you wanted it so badly"

"i always cherished our time together, but i wasn't the version of myself you needed" you explained "i think that you look much healthier too"

"i am much healthier"

"great" you smiled "i won't ever say that the way i handled it was right, because it wasn't, but i think we both needed to heal individually, we couldn't do it together"

"i agree" lockwood smiled back softly "and even if i'm not angry, i'm still glad that you came to apologise"

"i hope it wasn't too late"

"it never was" he assured "maybe we can be friends again some day, but for now, just know that i will always love you"

"i will always love you too"

"and i'm glad that we met, even if it ended badly" he send you a last assuring smile. "come on" and with that you followed him back into the kitchen, sitting back down in your seat, while quill took your hand, squeezing it softly.

lockwood noticed the gesture and smiled at you. you smiled back. everything was alright again.

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #george karim #anthony lockwood x reader #lucy carlyle #ali hadji heshmati #netflix #cameron chapman #ghost hunting #ruby stokes #angst #breakup #quill kipps x reader #quill kipps #back to december #speak now taylor’s version #speak now #taylor swift

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jell0buss-37 · 2 years

Note

hi again! could i get some headcannons with how the counselors would be with the following scenario:

reader is wearing white shoes and it’s starting to rain so the ground is getting all muddy and reader doesn’t want to stain their white shoes

thank you <3

Clean shoes (Hacketteer-

Headcannons x reader!)

AAAHHHHHH I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!! I couldn't decide which I like more, so I decided to just post all of the counselors! I hope you enjoy!!!

Jacob:

Would totally carry you.

Bridal, piggyback, fireman, he WILL carry you.

Makes him feel valiant, and he will very cheesily say, "Fear not, my sweet, for I shall save you and your wonderful slippers from peril!!!"

You'd hold the umbrella while he carries you through the rain to wherever you need to get to.

Would probably end up falling, or slipping, but he would make sure that you landed on him, and not the mud, just so you can stay clean.

You both would laugh about it later while drying off and drinking cocoa ❤️.

Ryan:

Would probably suggest waiting out the rain, and probably ask someone or go himself to get you another pair to walk around in, while holding your nice shoes for you.

Would suggest to wear them when it's nice and dry out, and there's less chance of getting them dirty.

He'd tell you little ghost stories while you waited though!

Would also tell you about his home and everything, and listen to you talk about your home.

When the rain finally picks up, and you got a different pair to walk in, he'd carry your nice shoes for you, holding them tightly to his chest, and making sure nothing gets on them.

Dylan:

"Oh.. now see, those are the freshest pair of kicks I've ever seen. We just simply can't have those get ruined, now, can't we?"

Will make jokes, until he realizes that your serious and actually really like the pair, and immediately he'll come up with a solution.

Will just give you his shoes. That's it.

You guys most likely are in the radio shack while it's raining, and he also most definitely has a pair of slides or flip flops that Mr Hackett left in there with all the other storage stuff he put in there.

So he'll hide your shoes away in like a little cubby he has in there, probably for papers for the announcements.

He'd completely shield you from the rain, spreading his arms with his hands tucked into his pockets over you, so it looks like a giant tarp is hanging over you while you walk through the rain lol.

Once the rain let's up and it's all dry out again, he'll just casually give them back to you when you go to visit him in the morning.

"Here ya go, kept them nice and safe for ya!"

Kaitlyn:

Would give you two plastic bags to buy over them.

Knows you really wanted to wear them and break them in probably, but also didn't want them to get dirty, so the best way to do both is to just cover them up.

"Woah, (Y/n), loving the drip!"

Would totally tease you about them, but in a loving way.

Giggles everytime you take a step because of the sound of the plastic rustling around.

After the rain let's up and it gets dry again, you take the bags off, and she jokes about how you finally set them free.

Emma:

Would just walk around barefoot in the rain tbh.

She has a sort of carefree attitude, so things like that don't really bother her.

But she realizes how much the shoes mean to you, so she'd just walk around barefoot with you.

After putting the shoes somewhere in a safe place, she kick puddles at you.

You guy's would play in the rain for a while, just having fun without a care in the world.

When you guys are done, you'd clean yourselves up and just sit and watch the rain for a while.

Nick:

Would honestly also be the type to carry you.

But not in the goofy way like Jacob.

More in the Soft Boy™ way.

Would tie the laces together and throw them around his neck, and carry you piggy back style across the mud, setting you gently on the porch steps and handing you the shoes.

Of course he'd look dazzling with the rain drops in his hair, and he'd also shake it out like a dog, making you laugh at his silliness.

Once the rain let's up, he'd still offer you piggyback rides, saying "it's still too muddy, your perfect shoes will get soiled!"

Abi:

Oh yeah, she DEFINITELY has a couple rain jackets with cute little rain boots to match.

She'd let you borrow her frog ones, with the raincoat to match.

She'd let you leave your shoes at her cabin, and you both would also probably play in the rain.

She has a couple of doodles of you in the rain, as well as an adorable little sketch that she'd never show anyone.

She'd also probably wear her strawberry rain boots and jacket, because let's face it, she's a strawberry girl 🍓🍓🍓.

Once the rain let's up and everything, if you asked her to do some doodles on your shoes after a while of having them and they get a bit worn out, she'd draw little frogs and strawberries on them.

Max:

Ever had a bridge made for you before?

Well get ready, cuz it's gonna happen.

Would find every piece of cardboard, crate, log, etc. You name it, it's going to become a bridge.

Is already the type to lay his jacket over a tiny puddle for you, so being honest you kinda saw this coming.

Would hold your hand and keep you steady on the makeshift bridge while walking beside you in the mud to make sure you don't fall.

If a piece of the bridge were to break or move away, he'd simply hoist you over the gap and set you down on the other side.

Once the rain and mud let's up, everytime you where your clean shoes around him, he gets a proud look on his face.

"I did that :)))."

Laura:

Most likely the most insensitive one out of the counselors.

"Why not just wear them? They're most likely going to get dirty anyway."

She doesn't really get it, as she also isn't very materialistic, and if something isn't used for it's practicality, then what is it for???

She'll realize that the pair of shoes actually mean something to you though, and just give you her shoes to wear. She's also super prepared, so she probably already has an extra pair with her.

If you do get them dirty somehow, she'll probably be more annoyed and upset about it than you.

Will also buy you a new pair.

#the quarry #the quarry x reader #dylan the quarry #nick the quarry #jacob the quarry #kaitlyn the quarry #ryan the quarry #emma the quarry #abi the quarry #max the quarry #laura the quarry #headcanon #fanfiction

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masterqwertster · 18 days

Text

And finally the full ensemble of Bells Hells from Kuuraketu's Bells Hells/Avatar the Last Airbender crossover Bending Apart.

With individual characters with art notes beneath the cut

Truthfully, these are almost all pretty quick and dirty traces of official character art, fiddled with for different outfits and human features, and then given the paint bucket. But they were fun.

I went with a more hash-marked claw strikes for the scars since Ashton is not actually made of stone in the fic, and we haven't yet (ch12) seen how they got hurt. I'm sort of betting on a spirit attack, thus the more claw inflicted scars.

I also think it's a fun twist that Ashton is an earthbender, people who notoriously don't wear shoes in A:tLA, but here he's got full-on boots. I figure between keeping the skill a secret, late-blooming, and general lack of training (and maybe Ka'Mort induced hypersensitivity for his element), it makes sense for him to still do shoes.

Chetney was kind of one of the quicker ones. At least once I messed around with his gnome-proportions to get more human sizing.

As a spirit hunter, I gave him some sort-of Buddhist prayer beads, and a little scarf with the kanji for earth, water, air, and fire (though you can't see earth here).

It was also fun giving Chet the little pillbox hat and restyling his shoes into pointy toe "slippers." Chet's just fun.

My sweet boi is my nemesis in drawing here. He's completely freehand, so maybe not as solid in style as the rest.

I think his little polar half-jacket is cute. And has a conveniently normal looking sleeve end for their amputated arm. Their shirt is yellow for living in the Earth Kingdom.

Fearne's barefoot because it just fits her whimsy. Also, she's a firebender in Earth territory. It doesn't hurt to be a little tricksy and look like an earthbender when she's actually going to be kicking fire. Though she's probably got a pair of geta/zori/sandals in her bag (being warmed under Little Mister's butt, lol).

She probably should have more layers to her kimono to be more fancy, but that's more work than I'm putting into these, haha😅

I know, I basically gave her cowgirl boots. It's a look.

Honestly, I feel like this Laudna may have ended up poaching Delilah's necklace and boots.

Like, the shirt and pants are pretty Earth Kingdom peasant. But then the waterbender blue dress was a "gift" from Delilah for her "apprentice." And then Laudna maybe looted D's body (I think she's dead? hasn't been properly brought up as of ch12) and took the nice boots and pretty necklace.

Honestly, Orym's original look isn't that out there for an Avatar setting, so I made minimal changes, haha😅

I switched his wraps and gloves for some Air Nomad colors wraps. Also lengthened out his shirt into a tunic and removed the left sleeve as well. And had some fun redecorating his armor with air and Ashari motifs.

#MQart #fic rec #kuuraketu: bending apart #bells hells

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samsexualdeancurious · 1 year

Text

3 AM

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 1,549

Summary: She just wanted to surprise him.

Warnings: Hurt!Reader, vomiting, hurt/comfort.

A/N: Just a lil thing I wrote instead of doing homework, lol. Enjoy!

---

Your windshield wipers swish back and forth, the sound so much louder than usual. The rain on the glass distorts the headlights of cars you pass. Thankfully there aren’t many at this hour but every one forces you to slow down and squint at the road, trying to keep track of the lines, and things are only getting worse. You’re glad you’ve already left the streetlights of Lebanon behind. The night is dark, made even darker by the storm, but you know the way.

When the bunker finally looms out of the night, a huge shadow blocking out what little light the sky has to offer, relief begins to trickle in. Your tires skid and slip as you come to a stop. The path to the bunker steps is muddy underfoot and the steps themselves are slick with rain. You cling to the railing with one hand, the other lifted to knock before you’ve even reached the bottom.

No answer.

Relief fading, you begin banging your fist against the door as hard as you can, over and over and over and-

“Hey! Hey!”

The door swings open. You flinch, covering your eyes against the light that pours out into you, and there, silhouetted in the doorway, is Dean.

“Y/N?”

He reaches for you, pulling you inside and out of the rain. The door slams shut behind you. The clang of the metal makes you flinch. Inside is warm and dry and Dean’s hands are firm on your shoulders. He’s sleep-mussed, wearing a grey robe and slippers over his t-shirt and boxers. His eyes are wide and awake, though, as he holds you steady.

“It’s 3 AM,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“I tried to call,” you manage. You’re starting to feel dizzy. The lights are too much and you can still taste the bitter tang of undead blood in your mouth. “I had a hunt nearby. I wanted to surprise Sam but-”

Your words cut off as pain rocks through you and your knees buckle. Dean catches you up in his arms, yelling for Sam.

You squeeze your eyes shut and when you open them again, you’re being laid on a bed in a room with white brick walls. The only light is a lamp beside the bed but even that has your head pounding. Dean is leaning over you and past him, barefoot in pajama pants and a grey t-shirt you know is the softest thing he owns, Sam is making his way down the stairs. The sight of him is enough to make the tears that have been building for the last hour finally spill over.

“Y/N,” Dean is saying. He pats your cheek, pulling your eyes back to him. “Y/N. Hey. There you are. Stay with me. What were you hunting?”

Everything is so loud.

“Vampire,” you manage. Your hand flails towards your pocket but a spasm of pain shoots through you before you and grab the vial stashed there.

Sam is by your side now. One big hand curls around the back of your head, the other catching yours. “Have you fed?”

You shake your head and a wave of nausea rolls through you. “Pocket.”

Dean’s fingers fumble in your pocket to find the vial of blood you were able to gather after killing the vampire.

“Good girl,” Sam praises when he sees it. Warmth spreads in your chest at the words.

“I’ll put together the cure. You okay staying with her?”

Sam nods, curling over you as Dean stands. You hear Dean’s footsteps on the stairs but your eyes are on Sam’s. Everything is so intense and his presence is grounding. Reassuring.

He shouldn’t be this close.

“You should go,” you gasp as pain rocks through your body once more. “It’s - I’m not safe.”

Sam shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you can’t suppress a sob. “You’re gonna be just fine. We’ll take care of you.”

“Wanted to surprise you,” you mumble.

Sam chuckles. His thumb smooths away the tension in your forehead. “You definitely surprised me. Why didn’t you call when you found that hunt, thought?”

There’s no judgment in his words, just concern.

“It was just one.”

Just one but that one was old, experienced, and got the jump on you. You let your guard down for just a moment. You let yourself get cocky and now, you’re paying the price.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Sam murmurs. “You’re gonna be just fine.”

You don’t feel fine right now. Your stomach is twisting with nauseous hunger. Your head is throbbing and even Sam’s whispers are too loud, his gentle touch too rough. You can hear a steady, if slightly accelerated, thumping that must be his heart. A sharp pain is rising in your gums and you don’t want to think about what that means.

The infirmary door bangs open and you can’t help a cry, your free hand flying up to cover your ear. Sam immediately places both hands over your ears as Dean bangs down the stairs. He grimaces at the sight of you.

“How’s she doing?” he asks, setting a bowl on the bedside table. He has a glass in his hand filled with a dark liquid.

“How do you think?” Sam snaps. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he frowns and shakes his head. “Sorry, I just -”

“I know.” Dean places a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Is it ready?”

“Yup.”

Sam turns back to you. His thumbs sweep over your cheekbones and wipe away the tears you can’t hold back.

“Y/N,” he says quietly. “Can you sit up for me?”

You draw a shaky breath and nod. Sam takes his hands from your ears and helps you sit up. When you’re upright, he shifts to sit behind you on the bed and allows you to lean against his chest. You’re literally turning into something he hunts and yet here he is, trusting you not to turn on him.

Dean holds out the glass and Sam covers your hand with his own when you take the glass. The support is more than welcome as you eye the substance Dean’s mixed up for you. The need for humanity overrides your disgust, though, and you down the entire glass as quickly as you can.

“Holy shit, that’s vile,” you gag.

Sam passes the glass back to Dean, who’s nodding with a sympathetic expression. You remember as Sam sets the bowl in your lap that Dean’s been through this experience himself. If anyone in this room understands what you’re going through, it’s Dean.

If you felt awful before, you almost feel worse when the cure starts to kick in. Dean leaves the room to get you water while Sam rubs your back and holds the bowl steady so you don’t drop it. Throwing up in front of him is absolutely humiliating and you’ll feel it later but you’re too focused right now on getting what feels like everything you’ve ever consumed out of your system.

When you’re finally done and you’ve rinsed your mouth out with the water Dean brings, Sam tucks you in against his chest as the tears come back in full force. Dean slips out again, mumbling something about cleaning up. Sam lays you down on the cot and stretches out beside you. He’s too long for the bed - he has to fold his knees up around your legs to fit - but he doesn’t complain. Just holds you tighter and lets you cry yourself to sleep.

---

You wake with Sam’s face pressed into your hair and the taste of death in your mouth. Your whole body aches. It takes you a minute to remember what happened and when you do, shame floods through your body. Your face burns. You try to slip from Sam’s embrace and sit up without waking him, desperate to brush your teeth and shower and probably crawl into a hole to die, but his grip on you is tight.

“How’re you feeling?” Sam asks and you startle, grimacing. Of course he’s awake. You can count the number of times you’ve woken up before Sam on one hand. When you don’t answer, Sam tilts his head to look at your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer without looking at him. “Yeah. I just… I feel gross.”

Sam gives you a gentle squeeze and kisses your forehead. “Understandable. How does a hot shower sound? You take your time and I’ll make breakfast?”

Your stomach rumbles at the thought of food and Sam laughs. He kisses your forehead again.

“Shower and breakfast it is, then.”

Sam starts to sit up but now it’s your turn to cling to him, suddenly desperate for just a few minutes more of his comforting warmth. You’re hurting and hungry and humiliated but you need him. You’ll cry yourself out in the shower but you need his silent strength holding you together for just a little while longer.

“Hey,” Sam says, pulling you upright with him. “Y/N?”

“Thank you.”

He makes a soft sound you can’t decipher. “Oh, sweetheart. Anything for you.”

You nod, nuzzling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “Can we… just sit here for a little bit longer?”

“That we can definitely do.”

—

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward

#my writing #supernatural #spn fanfic #sam x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #spn fic

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mycenalucentipes · 10 months

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A very short excerpt from a very long piece - Draco Malfoy x Reader (sample)

a/n: So I'm planning to write a much longer story, I have the beginning sorts drafted. Now I need to write it. I know this project will take me a very long time and that is okay. I am going to move at my own pace and probably won't post much more about it until I'm much further along. I'm documenting this here for my sake :)

It is going to be a Draco Malfoy x Reader piece. I'm so indecisive, but I think I finally went with Y/n coming from a well known wizard/witch family, just not one from London area. She's from Ireland!

I kept debating back and forth whether or not to make another Potter twin one, because I do very much like how those tend to play out.

But I've decided in the end, to go with my first idea haha.

I'm still working on other shorter oneshots and series in the mean time! Those will be uploaded here as I finish/edit them. Tbh I only have two others in the works. 'Ghosts' and some other little DM x Reader fic :) my writing schedule is sporadic, sorry lol. Inspiration will come and go

===========================

Today was the day that Y/n Réaltín would make her journey to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As she stood just outside the grand entrance of the Réaltín manor, she gazed at the beautiful coastline to her left. Dawn’s sunrise kissed the water, offering it a soft hue of pinks, oranges, and golds. Wisps of scattered clouds brushed the horizon with gentle shades of blush and apricot. To her right, there lie the tranquil rolling hills and the verdant valleys. The rays of sunlight gave the emerald green vegetation a soft, golden glow. The luscious grass swayed gently with the ocean breeze, glistening as the dew clung to the blades.

Though she was born and raised in Loch Garman, Ireland, her parents insisted that she attend Hogwarts. For that was their alma mater. Her father was a cold and stern man of mystery and distance. However he wasn’t always this way.

He used to be a vibrant, kind young wizard. Mr. Atlas Réaltín started his journey by attending the Erehnholl School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before his time at Hogwarts. He was a proud Spaniel of Erehnholl, but Slytherin claimed his allegiance at Hogwarts. Shortly after graduation, Atlas rose through the ranks of the Irish Ministry of magic quite quickly. He now works for the British Ministry of Magic as the head of the International magical Cooperation. A respected and powerful figure.

Y/n’s mother, Estelle Réaltín, was a proud Ravenclaw through all seven years of her education at Hogwarts. Although a muggle-born witch, Atlas, a pure-blood did not care in the slightest. She was the most wonderful person in Atlas’ and Y/n’s eyes. Every year during the crisp winter evenings, the entire Réaltín family would go stargazing in their family’s observatory. Mrs. Réaltín always said that winter evenings were the best time to see the Pleiades, which in Greek mythology were the seven daughters of the titan Atlas and the Oceanid Pleione. Her mother owned a little bookshop that was located near the Erehnoll school. Apart from managing a book shop, she was always deep into astrological studies.

At the age of 11, Y/n’s world as she knew it shattered when her mother passed away. Her father, deeply depressed, buried himself deep into the responsibilities of his position. He was no longer the warm and loving man she once knew. Y/n never did find out why her mother died. Only that she never came back from work one day. Upon her mother’s passing, her father decided that she would transfer into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The original plan was to have her in Erenholl from first through fourth year, then in Hogwarts from fifth through seventh year.

Y/n often sought solace in the tranquil landscape that surrounded the cold and lonely manor. She would wander the coast and gaze out at the ocean with a somber expression. Or she would walk barefoot across the lush grass that blanketed the rolling hills. Y/n became lost in her thoughts. However, her trance was abruptly interrupted when her father harshly called her name, “Y/n! Quickly now, I don’t have all day to spend on sending you off to school now.” He stood at the middle of the steps, sighing impatiently as he waited.

Sighing, Y/n picked up her briefcase and owl cage, then headed towards her father who was huffing something about how much work he’ll have waiting for him at the office. Mr. Réaltín held out his hand for his daughter to take it. Before she could even prepare herself, he apparated the both of them to Kings Cross Station located just at the edge of Central London.

She looked around awestruck, just watching the various people rush by in a hurry to get to their next destination. “Come dear, I cannot take you through, as something urgent came up at work. Just head to Platform 9 ¾ and walk through the pillar, alright? Now I must hurry along, don’t be late to the train, love. You’ll have a great time at Hogwarts.” Before Y/n even got a chance to say a “goodbye” or an “I love you” her father had disappeared into the air. She let out a defeated sigh and wandered towards the platforms.

“So…Platform 9 ¾. Now where the bloody hell is that?” She muttered to herself while walking up and down the platform. She approached platform 9 and then slowly approached platform 10. Her eyes scanned back and forth between the numbers, having not a clue what she was supposed to do. Where was she supposed to go? The time was nearing 10:50 am by now, so she had 10 minutes to figure out where to go, but there were no hints on how to get there. She knew that asking the guards would be absolutely useless. Time was beginning to run out as another five minutes passed.

Y/n heaved a heavy sigh and began pacing around her luggage and owl. It wasn’t until she heard the hurried footsteps from what sounded like a large family approaching the area that she gained a spec of hope.

“Percy first!” You saw a kind-faced woman with fiery red hair call out to what seemed to be six children. Whoa. Y/n shook her head from amusement and sprinted towards the lady. “Excuse me, madame, sorry for the intrusion, but I am a transfer student to Hogwarts this year, do I just-” Y/n spoke, sounding unsure of herself, but gestured towards the brick barrier, “walk through the wall?”

“Oh hello deary, yes indeed. Just hurry through and don’t be scared! You can follow Fred and George here, they’ll show you the way from there.” She explained with a motherly tone, while looking back to the rest of the children. Y/n nodded her head in thanks and looked at the set of twins. She assumed that these two were Fred and George.

“Hi there! I’m Fred Weasley!” Said the one on the left. “And I’m George Weasley! We’re in year four!” Chimed the one on the right. “Follow us!” They both happily exclaimed while running through the barrier

“I’m Y/n Réaltín! A second year!” Y/n yelled while following them through the bricks. She closed her eyes in anticipation of approaching the wall. In the blink of an eye, the three of them were standing in front of the Hogwarts Express in all of its beauty.

“Oh! You’re the Réaltín girl?” Inquire one of the twins as the other looked at you for a brief second. “-Interesting, you don’t look much like a girl.” The other one shrugged and chuckled. Suddenly a loud THWACK was heard as their mother came up from behind them, smacking them in the back of the head.

“You two! That wasn’t very polite of you!” Mrs. Weasley scolded them while pointing her finger back and forth at them, “now board the train! It leaves in a- wait where are Ron and Harry?” And with that she was onto worrying about her other child. Fred and George looked at each other and then to you, sighed, then shrugged. “Well, let’s get on board. Ready Réaltín girl?”

Y/n had such a bewildered look on her face, not quite sure what just happened. “Y-yes, I suppose so.” She quietly followed after Fred and George, still not really sure who they were, but they seemed to have heard of her before. It was most likely due to her father being the head of one of the departments in the Ministry of Magic. Y/n silently followed the two of them, not really sure of where to go again. She felt like a lost puppy just hoping for some guidance. So she opted to continue following the twins, as they hadn’t shooed her away.

“You can sit with us if you’d like to. We’re just looking for our friend Lee!” One of the twins said quite loudly without turning around. Y/n still had no idea who was who, but she decided that was a problem for later. As they walked down the train, Y/n peeked in on various compartments full of students of all ages. However, one student in particular caught her attention when he shoved past the three of them. “Damn Weasleys, out of my way,” scoffed a platinum blonde haired boy as he briskly walked by, making sure to bump his shoulder into both of the twins on his way by.

“Oh well, excuse us, daddy’s boy,” Fred said with sarcastic amusement. George burst out laughing as the blonde gave a sneer back at them, mocking what Fred said. “That’s Draco Malfoy,” one of them leaned over to Y/n’s ear to loudly whisper.

Not too long after, they found the compartment their friend was sitting in. “Lee! Look who we brought. A Réaltín!” The twin to the left of Y/n announced with excitement. She still had no idea why it was such a big deal.

tbc...

#nicosnwrites #i'll put this through editing later on but I need to type more thoughts out first haha #draco malfoy x reader

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pinkeebwui · 15 days

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greco bnb for the writing prompt my liege!

On it, boss!!

This one is funny because one might think, idk, mama Mia potentially? But actually the similarity ends at Greece adjacent(?) because this one’s about mythology, boys. Specifically that cow headed bitch because I think just he’s neat! I’ve thought so for a bit but I saw a joke a coupole months ago in like December or January and it hit at the exact right time while I was deskwarming to get me in words mode. It wasn’t even serious, just activated the sleeper mythology braincell lol.

Here are the 1st paragraphs from the monster and the damned, so to speak.

Aster did not always live beneath the earth. Long before he was confined to the closeness of dark like night, before the boundaries of his world became stone ceilings and floors and walls, before the air grudgingly filling them had to filter so far down hidden shafts that it no longer smells of anything but dust and more stone, before that, he knew the taste of life. Though it is distant now, he remembers the warmth of the white hot sun on his skin, the kiss of salt-breezes drying his sweat, the tickling of grass against his skin and the song of birds and bugs in his ears. He remembers the forgiving softness of soil, real soil, not accumulated, dead sand, beneath his feet, smeared rich-dark on his skin when he played or walked barefoot or dug in the garden at his mother’s side. He remembers the touch of his mother, whose face is now distant in his mind, as tender, warm; hands that never hurt him, not even in scolding. Gentleness is more distant now than her face, more distant than the breezes, the sunlight, the sky that surely must still stretch above the earth that hangs over his head in its stead.

[…]

Theodoros was not born the eldest son. Before him was his brother, Heliodoros, five years older and as bold and bright as his name. Though he was confident, comfortably carrying the title of their father’s heir, he was not insufferable like some of their cousins; he was kind to his siblings and tender with his mother, boisterous as he was close to his friends. He had burned bright and constant right up to the moment he was thrown from a horse at twenty and snapped his neck, snuffed in an instant like a candle flame. His loss left something gaping and cold in their family, and their father turned into a more brittle, harsh version of himself, like a swift come winter.

#eebwuiwrites #eebwuispeaks

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ispybluesky · 8 months

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uno reverses all the [people] emoji @ you for noonday :333

yessss

😊 (SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life?): noonday is living her dream life i think!! her original plan of owning a tea shop with an upstairs apartment/magic and herbal workshop was already really ideal for her. there were some bits in the middle when they were ""hiding from the church"" and ""exiled from torredaga"" that were less than ideal, and she didn't necessarily enjoy her time in helios, but her core maxim has always been 'fun comes first' and she's chased that more or less unwaveringly

😖 (CONFOUNDED FACE — is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved?): she's an ambivert and lets people in VERY easily sgfjfjjdhf. memorable moments include summoning the ghost of a woman who was just murdered and instantly making friends with her and congratulating her on her engagement before remembering she was dead. she's got a very open and friendly personality and when she's interested in you she will Become Your Friend. thena tried to kill her several times when they first met and noonday was like woah your god powers are cool and kept going back for more. they're married now

🤔 (THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?): she talks Very Much with her hands, and she's always tinkering with something. ever since she got her god markings she refuses to wear anything that will hide them (see-through or gauzy materials are acceptable but on thin ice). also she hates shoes and wears them as little as possible

🧐 (FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional?): EMOTIONAL 1000000% noonday has never made a logical decision in her LIFE when an emotional one will do

🤓 (SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy?): CHATTY AND AT EASE, to the point of semi-blasphemous casual conversations with multiple gods, trying to make friends with the weird glowing figure that is trying to kill her, and becoming best friends with caoimhe, the worlds most tsundere bitch (affectionate)

🤩 (FACE WITH STARRY EYES — is your oc a planner, or are they more spontaneous in their actions?): she's very very spontaneous (fun comes first!) and has gotten the squad into (and out of) trouble multiple times because of it. she'll go along with any plan that one of the others comes up with, and make suggestions, but there is essentially no way to stop her from improvising in moments of impulse

😥 (SAD BUT RELIEVED FACE — is your oc prone to getting stressed out, or is it easy for them to keep their cool?): she takes everything with such ease that she keeps her cool through most stressful situations, especially since most of the time she's just interested to see what comes next, but when there's danger to her friends she can get really serious and focused. she tends to get mad before she gets stressed out though

😓 (DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge?): VERY open minded and inquisitive lol. she's learned a lot of stuff during her time in torredaga just because she's constantly getting interested in stuff and exploring it. that's how she started in on ghost magic in the first place

😞 (DISAPPOINTED FACE — does your oc attract others, or do they tend to be left alone?): definitely more of an attractive personality, although she's weird enough that there's definitely people that go out of their way to avoid her

🤒 (FACE WITH THERMOMETER — does your oc get sick easily?): you know what they say about fools and colds! she came from a much colder climate than torredaga so she's always walking around barefoot in a skirt and a halter top. despite doing this living on a combination of random interesting drugs + homemade teas + takeaway she can count the number of times she's gotten sick on one hand

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 (FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc's immediate family? how many people are in your oc's extended family? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc? who in their family are they closest with? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family?): immediate family are her mother, her father, and her cousin (familiarity-breeds-contempt) (fun reminder that noonday's full name is fortune-favors-the-bold and that noonday is a nickname) but she has an enooooooormous extended family across both torredaga and the pelisian isles. they're all part of a big art syndicate/mafia-type situation, and noonday was set to inherit the torredaga branch of the art forgery market before she walked out and got written out of the will. in her family she's probably closest to her dad (she doesn't get along with her mom) and her [semi-distanrt] cousin roz (a-rose-by-any-other-name). she's definitely WAY closer to her found family, which consists of caoimhe, al, erdan, ermax, thena, The Kidz, and several ghosts

#ask #long post #nerice #ask meme #torredaga tag #NOONDAY MY BELOVEEED #noonday tag

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magicalgirlartist · 1 year

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[ID: 3 images with 2 full body characters (one higher to the left and facing left, the other lower to the right and facing right) each. The first has 2 young women. The higher one is thin with a short sleeveless blue wetsuit, an orange flower tucked behind one ear, and a translucent blue wrap draped around her waist. She has one hand on her hip and a shy expression. A text box beside her reads "HAHLI, assistant flax maker, never played a sport in her life, friendly, but shy, hates shoes, spends most of her time swimming or doing chores for Amaya." The lower one is chubbier with a bright blue halter top, dark blue crop leggings, and white sandals. She's standing on her tiptoes with her arms stretched behind her and smiling. A text box beside her reads "MACKU, left hand of Turaga Nokama, mega jock, sweet, outgoing, easily distracted, definitely not dating Hewkii." The second has 2 young men. The higher one is somewhat muscular, with dark tank top under red vest, yellow pants with a red waist tie, and red and yellow shoes. He has his hands on his hips and is frowning. A text box beside him reads "JALLER, captain of the guard of Ta-Koro, right hand of Turaga Vakama, chronically incapable of relaxing, only wears sleeveless shirts." The lower one is scrawny, with goggles, red t-shirt, red shirt tied around the waist, bright yellow cargo pants tucked into blue boots, and blue fingerless gloves. He's winking with his tongue out and flashing two peace signs. A text box beside him reads "TAKUA, Chronicler, professional responsibility avoider, "but I stay silly :3", friends with like half the island." The last has 2 young men. The higher one is beefy, with an open light brown robe and no shirt underneath, loose brown pants tied at the waist with an orange sash, and light brown gladiator sandals. He's waving and smiling. A text box beside him reads "HEWKII, celebrity athlete, right hand of Turaga Onewa, just a little too smart to be a True Himbo, definitely not dating Macku." The lower one is skinny, with a light brown tunic over loose black pants, and brown sandals. He has one arm behind his back and the other hand to his chest with a smug expression. A text box beside him reads "HAFU, master carver, left hand of Turaga Onewa, "ANotHEr hAFU ORigiNAL" (plain text: another Hafu original), smug and insufferable, the perfect man." End ID.]

Concepts for the Bionicle Sports Anime/MNOLGII comic!! I think Takua's is my favourite honestly lol. Gonna do the rest of the kohlii teams next and then some uniforms maybe!

Some notes about village fashions under the readmore!

[Commissions open!]

Ga-Koro Fashion: I figure Ga-Koro is warm and humid, but still can get cold at night. Ga-Koronans tend to wear warmer clothes for sleeping, but cooler clothes during the day. They also tend towards clothes that dry quickly, aren't super uncomfortable while wet, and/or can be removed easily before swimming, like Hahli's wetsuit/wrap combo. They also mostly wear sandals since it's not the end of the world if those get wet. Hahli prefers going barefoot since she's constantly in and out of the water gathering materials for Amaya anyway, and she's lost or destroyed so many sandals that way that it's just easier to not wear them at all.

Ta-Koro Fashion: Ta-Koro is fucking hot, but most of the people who live there are used to it. They generally dress in lighter fabrics, with short sleeves and sweatbands being common. The terrain is rocky as well, so shoes with decent soles are a must. As usual, the main outlier here is Takua, who doesn't handle Ta-Koro's heat as well as the others ~for some reason~ but also frequently mixes in clothing types from other villages due to how much he travels.

Po-Koro Fashion: Like Ga-Koro, Po-Koro is hot during the day and cold at night. It's a much drier heat, though, being a desert. Light, loose clothes are practically required, and often several layers of them are worn at night. Pants tend to have elastic, drawstring, or some other form of binding around the legs to help keep sand from getting in there. Sandals are best for Po-Koro as well, unless you're playing kohlii of course!

#bionicle #human bionicle #mnolgii #art #fanart #digital art #i kinda want to punch up hahli's design a bit. maybe some kind of design on her wetsuit or smth #bionicle sports anime

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hiccstrxd · 1 year

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Baby, te amo (forever ‘til the end of time)

So I wrote a little something for my soft juke babies because the idea just was too cute to let the opportunity pass. It’s tooth-rotting fluff (when is it not with me lol).

Summary: She closed her eyes, basking in the moment, basking in his presence, warmth and comfort, and the words came out naturally.

“Te amo.”

Or the one in which Julie grew up with the idea of ‘te amo’ being the ultimate love confession. She hasn’t ever used it romantically because no one had been deserving of what her mother used to call the promise of profound devotion. Until years later, that’s it.

Search it on ao3 here!

It was no secret how much her parents loved each other.

Everybody with eyes could see the brazen devotion in every term of endearment and the warmth in even the smallest interactions. Little Julie could not understand how the other kids were disgusted by their parent’s displays of affections when her mom and dad were just like the princes and princesses in her fairy tales storybooks!

And so, Julie grew to be in awe of the love her parents had for one another.

On the nights she couldn’t sleep, she would shrug off the blankets and pad barefoot through the house, clutching her favorite plushie under one arm. She would go searching for her parents, knowing that her mother’s soft tunes were her favorite lullabies in the whole world and her dad’s gentle words made her feel every bit like the daddy’s little girl her mom always said she was. And, more often than not, she would find her parents slow dancing in the kitchen, under dim lighting with their hands wrapped around each other and with the biggest smiles on their faces. For little Julie, it was magical and she found herself wishing to grow up quickly so she too could find someone to live a fairy tale moment of her own.

She was the honorable spectator to her parents' shows of affection time and time again, each one of them filled with what she could only describe as genuine, unadulterated love. Like witnessing her mother serenading her father with one of the most beautiful songs she has ever heard, or the time in which she saw her dad cooking an entire feast of all of her mom’s favorite dishes for their anniversary date.

There were way too many moments engraved in her mind that she just can’t let go; Julie holds them dearly in her heart because what her parents had was the epitome of true love and she would fiercely stand by that.

The truth is that Rose and Ray were absolutely enamored with one another. Julie is just glad she could experience it first-hand.

However, there was a specific moment that left Julie quite shaken, even as a freshly-turned teenager. She remembers her mom draping her arms on her father’s shoulder, gazing at him with the softest yet most ardent look in her eyes and saying, “Te amo” . So straightforward, without stuttering, whispering a confession from the heart. And her father’s face would soften immediately, his posture slumping as if he is getting rid of all his defenses, as if he doesn’t need them anymore. They would get trapped in this bubble of vulnerability together, a number of ‘te amo’s being muttered for their ears only like a sacred word, their smiles radiating blinding happiness.

She didn’t understand how a simple world could cause such a fragile reaction.

Julie did ask her mom about it when they were both cuddling on the sofa watching a movie, because she was always a curious kid and not knowing stuff made her restless. Rose had

smiled, bringing Julie closer to her chest and tucking some of her curls behind her ear. “Mi amor,” she had started, with a tender look that only mothers could muster, “sometimes, a simple ‘I love you’ is not enough.”

Julie had cocked her head to the side in confusion because that didn’t make any sense. That was how you verbally express that you love someone. Granted, there were some alternatives but that was the most universally known phrase, so she definitely didn’t see where her mother was coming from.

Rose had laughed at her bewilderment, hugging her closer as she continued, “In spanish, ‘te amo’ is so powerful. It’s the most beautiful, most intimate way to voice out what you feel towards someone.”

Julie turned to look at her mom, “but isn’t that the same as ‘I love you’?”

Her mom hummed, “Not quite. Te amo is saying I love you, adore you, respect you, protect you, accept you, support you and care about you all in one word. It’s a meaningful word that carries a promise of profound devotion.”

Julie had nodded in understanding, though she’s sure that many of what it entailed went over her head. Her mom, on the other hand, had seemed to know what she’s talking about so she must be right, Julie had thought.

Rose had smiled wistfully and leaned over to place a kiss on her temple, “ Te amo, darling.”

She hugged her mom tightly, breathing in the moment that would later become one of Julie’s most treasured memories.

Julie may had been young, and perhaps she didn’t get all the fuss about it or just how significant it was as her mom made it out to be, but it did make sense over the years. As she grew older she would only use it a handful of times: to her dad, her little brother and her aunt Victoria. Sometimes, she would half-jokingly send it to Flynn over text.

Never romantically, no, because no one had yet to be deserving of those words.

Until years later, that’s it.

“So, I was thinking that for the bridge we could slow down the tempo a little bit, what do you think? Reggie came up with a killer riff that we could use and make the song awesome!”

Luke is pacing back and forth in front of her, talking animatedly about the song they have been working on the past couple of days. There’s the distinctive bounce on his step and a glimmer in his eyes that appear whenever he’s talking about something that he’s passionate about. It’s endearing, really.

Julie would have never thought that she would harbor such strong feelings for anyone, let alone for someone who wasn't exactly... alive. But here’s this boy that makes her heart flutter when he as much looks her way, that makes her feel breathless whenever he smiles at her blindingly, that makes her write the silliest of love songs and daydream about dancing to the idyllic tune of a ballad.

It’s overwhelming and the mere thought throws her off slightly because never has she ever felt so deeply over a crush but, perhaps, that word is too short of a label for what it truly is after all.

“Julie, are you with me?” She snaps back to reality to the image of Luke kneeling in front of her, his thumbs carefully rubbing her knees in an attempt to make her come back to the conversation at hand. It’s more distracting than helpful, the pads of his fingers incredibly gentle against her skin, but who is she to complain?

Ever since they discovered they could be able to touch, they had been using that information to the fullest in fear that it could be short-lasting. All of them.

(“Hmm, this is nice.” Reggie says, there’s a hint of a smile in his tone as he wiggles closer to Alex in his attempt to equally find warmth and to not fall off the bed.

Alex grunts as he is being pressed forward, “yes Reg, I love being squished to death.” He deadpans, his words dripping with sarcasm, surely with a roll of his eyes thrown in there to get his point across. Julie grins inwardly, the irony of what he said not lost on her. “I can’t feel my ribs, geez have you always been this strong?”

“Hey! If you don’t remember, I give the best bear hugs in the whole world and afterworld for that matter!” Reggie sounds so utterly offended that it makes her chuckle at how ridiculous this whole conversation turned out to be. The bed shakes a little — mainly because of Reggie pulling back slightly to look at Alex right in the eyes but she’s sure the added weight also plays a part in it — and the sudden movement had Reggie yelping and grasping Alex’s sleeve in a tight grip in fear of falling off.

“See, that’s the universe telling you that you should never question my strength ever again.”

“Reggie that’s not— okay.”

Luke laughs beside her, the sound melodious and blithesome, it makes something inside her melt and she’s flabbergasted for a second because since when has laughter sounded so beautiful and enthralling.

He has one arm draped across her stomach and she has an inexplicable urge to snuggle closer to him, to erase the space between.

“Come on dude, don’t deny it, you are loving it it.” He says playfully, propping his head on one had as he narrows his eyes humorously at the boys.

Alex scoffs weakly, as if he was about to come up with an excuse that no, he clearly was having the worst time of his not-life but the battle was lost before it even started. He all but grins and gives in, “okay, yes. This is great, you guys win.” He says, cuddling up against Julie even more.

Reggie dabs him cheerfully on his side, hugging Alex impossibly tighter and if he was crushing him, he never complained once this time.

Luke hums, “Julie your bed is the softest thing ever. I think it’s starting to become my next favorite thing.” He snugs down to the point that Julie believes he’s about to become one with the mattress. She gazes at him, and hopes that her eyes don’t betray her by giving too much unsaid information.

He looks at her, “though, don’t worry. You’ll always be my number one.” Luke shrugs, a coy smile on his face as if he didn’t just set her heart ablaze.

The words die on her tongue, her teasing about how his guitar might become jealous forgotten at the back of her mind. She guesses that getting used to him openly flirting would never get easy but honestly, she wouldn’t have it any other way. It hasn’t been too long since they dared to cross over that fine line between friends and something more; she’s still threading lightly, he plunges all at once.

“Yes Julie, I wonder why we never did this before.” Reggie says, cutting her off before she could even answer him with a flirty response of her own. Sometimes she felt a little daring, sue her.

She turns her neck to be able to look at him and smiles, he has his butt half on the bed and half on the air, but he looks as happy as ever. “Off limits, remember.”

She sees realization dawn on him.

Julie continues, “also, I don’t know if you remember but you guys weren’t exactly tangible to human contact.” She says matter of factly.

“Oh, yeah.” Reggie draws out the oh as if he forgot he was a ghost for a second. He stares off at the distance before shrugging and nuzzling his nose in the back of Alex’s neck, all talk about it unequivocally forgotten.

She chuckles and looks over at Luke, ready to tell him that he too is her favorite next thing, her favorite person, her favorite music partner, her favorite everything. Ready to see him beam at her words, maybe get a little bit flustered but he’d eventually find another thing to say that would render her speechless — as he always do, it’s some kind of superpower she’s staring to believe. But she’s greeted by the sight of her boyfriend fast asleep, his lips slightly parted and his fingers grazing faintly her curls. And he looks so at peace, so happy even in his sleep that it makes that indescribable feeling inside her to appear once more. The melting and the twisting and the fluttering ever so present.

And she wants to act on them. She will act on them.)

She looks at him, his eyebrows are slightly furrowed because he can’t help but get concerned over her. It comes naturally, he had jokingly said. “Is something wrong?”

Julie smiles, “no, you dork.” Her hand comes up to brush his bangs that fell a little bit long over his eyes, moving them aside to reveal those green eyes that she very much loves glinting with affection and tenderness and everything in between that makes her feel so warm and fuzzy.

“I was thinking that we could take a break for a bit,” she suggests, her hand now moving downwards to cup his cheek and she felt him leaning in. She’s sure her stomach was the home of millions of butterflies, leaping and dancing by the way it feels all fluttery when he turns his head to press a quick kiss on the palm of her hand. He’s going to be the death of her, she swears.

“Sure, yeah.” He smiles, moving to the couch and sitting next to her, his arm coming up to tuck her on his side. His chin is resting on top of her head and he may have said a joke about how her curls tickle his nose but she tunes it out, she’s just so happy right now.

Luke tightens his hold on her, “Tell me about your day.”

She tucks her legs in, almost resting them atop of his lap but not quite, and drapes one of her arms across his chest, “Well, Mrs. Harrison said that we’ll start on the preparations for the Winter Musical Festival next week. She told me that she wants me to write and perform the song for the opening act.” Julie started to play with the neckline of his shirt — surprisingly one with proper sleeves, though she’s a secret fan of his muscle tees for obvious reasons — a habit she has taken a liking to.

“Julie, that’s awesome! You are gonna knock them off their feet, as always!”

She can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, it’s contagious to the point that she momentarily forgets about the real reason of why she brought up the topic in the first place. “And I want you to come.”

Julie waits for his response, “and the guys too, of course.”

He smiles the kind that makes his eyes wrinkle from how big he’s smiling, the apples of his cheeks popping up in the process. “Julie, we’d be honored!”

And then he softens up a little, she feels him slump further on the couch and his body curving towards her and Julie wonders if it was because of another emotional overload or because the excitement of the day is finally catching up to him — he has way too much energy, she really doesn’t know where he stores it — but then a quieted “I’d love to,” was being murmured in the space between them and Julie stopped wondering.

She closed her eyes, basking in the moment, basking in his presence, warmth and comfort, and the words came out naturally.

“Te amo.”

It’s straightforward, without stuttering, whispering a confession from the heart.

Julie doesn’t know if he understood it, in fact she doesn’t wait for him to act on it for that matter because she lifts her head from underneath him — feeling all kinds of emotions all at once — and takes his chin in her hand to bring their lips together in a searing kiss, the image of glazed eyes the last thing she saw.

They have kissed before, of course, small pecks here and there but nothing quite like this. Perhaps her not so little confession making the moment significant tenfold.

The kiss is mind-spinning and it makes her lightheaded and weak on the knees (she’s just glad she’s sitting down for this one), it carries both passion and tenderness at the same time and it’s brimming with everlasting promises that are left untold but still very much avowed. It’s sensitively overwhelming because there’s Luke everywhere; underneath her fingertips, on the back of her mind, on the soft glides against her mouth, on the gentle touches of his knuckles along her back, her face, her arms. She doesn’t know when he ended and she began.

She feels like her soul is being set on fire and then he tilts his head just so for their lips to slot even more perfectly together — if that was even possible — and she quite literally melts on his arms. She hums against his lips, and she needs more.

On a whim of boldness, she swings one of her legs to straddle his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, weaving her fingers through his brown locks to draw him impossibly closer. His hands were everywhere and her skin felt like it was being put aflame. Come to think of it, she wonders how she hasn’t combusted already.

She tugs his bottom lip in between her teeth, a low grunt was heard in the air as a result and she grins against his lips at the sound.

Julie slowly pulls away, giggling at how he follows her lips as she moves away as if he doesn’t want to let her go yet. She leans to place one soft kiss on his cheek, another one on the tip of his nose and another on the corner of his mouth. She’s tempted to leave a trail down his neck, but she refrains from doing that in fear of not being able to stop after the first few kisses.

Luke runs his hands gently up and down her arms, his eyes looking a little distraught and she feels oddly proud at being the one responsible for such absentmindedly state in the rather streak-focused Luke.

“Te amo.” She repeats, this time looking at him directly in the eyes, hoping to convey everything that the word entails in her body language, in her facial expression, in the pitch of her voice. Because if anything, her mother taught her that it should be said from deep within.

For a second it seems like time and space stop, but then Luke shifts from beneath her and brings his hands to frame her face gently. His expression is stark and intense, and she didn’t know she was waiting with a hitched breath when she let out a sigh of relief at his next words.

“Te amo más.”

She doesn’t know how he knows those words, she doesn’t care to ask when and why or to even consider any possible explanation because right now that’s the last thing on her mind as she leaps forward and embraces him in a crushing hug. Because nothing else matters as long as Luke loves her and she loves him just as much, as long as there’s amor and te amo’s in their love language.

#julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #ray molina #rose molina #juke fanfiction #jukebox my beloved #my writing #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfic #jatp fic #fluff #they are in love #I said it

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