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#LOOK okay it's the whole 'i love my children so i want to give them the best life possible before they die'
nereidprinc3ss · 1 day
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slumber party
in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid
fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu
“Oh, there is no way.”
Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 
“What? Is it—”
You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?
But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 
Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.
But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.
One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.
Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 
“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”
Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 
“Oh my god! You guys too?”
“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 
“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”
You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 
“What about Morgan and Garcia?”
Spencer snorts.
“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”
“Hotch and Rossi?”
The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.
“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”
“Can we please not try to picture it?”
“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”
“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”
“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”
“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 
“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”
Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 
“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”
“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.
Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 
“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”
“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 
“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”
Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 
From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 
“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”
The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 
“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 
“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”
“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”
“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”
“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”
“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 
That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 
“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”
It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 
“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”
“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 
“Obviously nobody has told me that.”
“It means y—”
“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”
“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”
You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 
“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 
You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 
“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”
“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”
Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 
“We’re not?”
“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”
He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 
“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”
“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”
Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 
“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”
“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 
Spencer doesn’t respond. 
It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 
In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.
The mattress squeaks. 
You do it again. 
Another squeak. 
A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 
“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”
Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 
“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 
“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
“I don’t—”
“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”
“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”
You’re only sort of kidding. 
“I… fascinate you?”
“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”
“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”
“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”
“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 
“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”
“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”
Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 
“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”
With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.
“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”
Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 
“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 
“You’d be surprised.” 
The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 
“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 
And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 
But you don’t bring those up. 
Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 
“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”
“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 
“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”
“Family annihilator from Houston?” 
“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”
“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”
“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”
“So he’s in your bag.”
“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”
“You are genuinely psychotic.”
You huff.
“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”
You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 
“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”
The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 
“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”
“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.
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lambergeier · 2 days
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all your ducks in a row – 7k, phoenix/miles, a prequel to the pacific rim au
it's done :) first two scenes below
After waiting ten minutes in Ema’s lab sans Ema, Miles makes an extremely flashy show of checking his watch.
“Who are you doing that for?” Phoenix asks him. “I bought you that watch, you think I don’t know how expensive your watch is?”
Miles growls at him, brings the watch a few inches closer to his face (not a show, Phoenix took most of their nearsight for an earlier briefing and has yet to give it back), then shakes his sleeve back over his wrist. “She’s late.”
“You know how I knew that? I don’t have a watch, it’s sad, but there is a clock on the wall that—”
“Oh, shut up,” Miles says, and buffets Phoenix with an old memory, rubbed near to loving smoothness, of: Phoenix Wright, newest technician at the Los Angeles Shatterdome. Big wounded eyes, crisply-starched uniform, the way he’d tottered to attention like a baby flamingo every time Miles Edgeworth passed him in the hall, like if Miles would just spare a look for the razor-thin crease in Phoenix’s slacks he might drop to his knees right then and there and—
“Alright, alright!” Phoenix laughs, waving a hand between them as if Miles’ love is a cloud that might ever be dispelled. “You can have your little vanities.”
“Thank you,” Miles sniffs, prim, and smiles as Phoenix does. “She is late, though.”
“Yeah, yeah. One more minute and then we’ll give her a call.” It’s well into evening but loud in the Dome, the thumping boots of night shift filling the halls as swing shift stumbles past them to their beds. Miles wants them out of here, quickly. He’s doing his best to keep his impatience to himself but the little hooks of it snag at Phoenix, too. When Phoenix reaches into the space between them, the aura of Miles’ incoming migraine haloes his vision. “She’s almost here,” he says to Miles.
“And how could you possibly know that,” Miles replies with an unbecoming roll of his eyes at the exact moment Ema throws herself into the room.
“Sorry, sirs!” she yells, stack of papers clutched to her chest, and Miles doesn’t acknowledge Phoenix’s smirk as they make their greetings and all sit down except that he’s forced to, intrinsically, because he melted his neurology to Phoenix’s in a massive industrial accident. Sucker.
“Okay,” Ema says, leaning over her spread of papers like a dealer trying to remember which color chip is the 50. “So I finally got my guy on the phone.”
There’s a little sparkler of panic from Miles, who can’t get the memory in time. Phoenix provides: her guy is an academic and neuro specialist that Meraktis reluctantly put Ema in touch with before his retirement. Well, “retirement.” His wife and two of his three children died trying to escape the city during the last attack and he’s leaving California while he still has a family left. Maybe better to just keep calling it a retirement.
“He thinks it might work,” Ema says.
Miles leans forward, whole sordid body alert. “He does.”
Phoenix says, “Keep talking.”
When Miles and Phoenix’s tangled health began, a few years after Ratel Cerulean, to stabilize, the good Dr. Meraktis had told them to consider themselves unbelievably, inconceivably lucky. Symptoms that were bad in a predictable way were a gift from god compared to the alternative. When they knew all of Miles’ migraine triggers, and all the weather patterns that would make the screws in Phoenix’s spine sing like malevolent tuning forks, and it had been years since they’d last had a seizure of even the little baby kind—that was a real life. They could live like that. Miles had been intensely grateful, as had Phoenix. He’d never say he wasn’t. But Ema, then Meraktis’ spunky neurology sidekick, had thought there might be more they could still try, and Meraktis had called her ideas ridiculous, but Phoenix had heard her out. Their problems were the making of a drift gone wrong. Could they be further resolved by a drift gone right?
It took years to get Miles on board. Until Meraktis fled the coast and couldn’t stop Ema from making her pitches anymore. Miles still isn’t totally on board—as he listens to Ema describe imaging results and hypothetical neural bridges, his fear is a bright and chattering flame.
Phoenix imagines the sensation of his hand on the back of Miles’ head, pushing his fingers through Miles’ hair. He remembers the feeling, many years familiar, of the stubbly back of Miles’ neck rubbed beneath the pressure of his thumb. In the seat beside him, Miles’s hands slowly release their white-knuckle grip on the arms of his chair. “So all we would need to do,” Miles says, as Ema’s explanation slows for breath, “is start a new drift?”
“I think so,” Ema says. “It could work. There’s no guarantee, there’s no, like, precedent for what’s going on with you guys but—I think so.” She shuffles her papers across her desk with a nervous hand. “I think so.”
She’s not selling this so well, certainly not enough for Miles’ flagging confidence. That’s fine. Miles doesn’t need to be sure of it. Phoenix is, enough for them both. This will work. This will help them. This will be okay. He cups Miles’ faith in the palms of his hands.
“Alright,” Miles says. “Let’s try it.”
---
Miles’ tentative optimism doesn’t withstand the rest of their working day, which includes a review of the Jumphawk’s latest no-light maneuvers, a call to Brussels, a call to his sister (way more harrowing than the EU), and a final visit to Angel, who hates them, just before the clock flips to 2:00 AM. It’s bad for both of them—Miles who was up at six yesterday morning and Phoenix who will be up again at six this coming morning. If Miles hadn’t begun to spiral as they trudged towards their mockery of a bedtime, Phoenix might have actually started to worry.
“We are—we’re delusional for even considering this,” Miles says, pacing their awful fucking rooms with his arms locked right behind his back. He’s going to pull something in his shoulder. They should really let the janitorial staff dust in here more often. “Frankly,” Miles says, “we should court-martial ourselves and hand control of the dome to Franziska now, for even thinking of this.”
“Sure, baby,” Phoenix says. His forearm lays heavy over his eyes. He tracks Miles’ movements by other means. “We both know how much you love handing your sister control of things.”
He remembers, before Miles can stop him, the “surprise” “party” Franziska has organized for Miles, the one time they’d visited Sydney before Miles became Marshall. It had been a poor surprise and an even worse party. When Franziska had mistaken Flight Commander Wright for a member of her own terrified support staff and ordered him to fetch more non-alcoholic wine spritzers, Phoenix had experienced nothing except relief.
“You weren’t wearing your uniform,” Miles muttered, face heating sharply. “How was she supposed to recognize you?”
She wouldn’t have even perceived the uniform. Phoenix could have been wearing a trophy from all three of his and Miles’ kills-to-date and she still would have told Phoenix to go get more toothpicks for the cocktail weiners which no one was enjoying and everyone was avoiding.
“Back to my original point,” Miles growls, before Phoenix can really get started on remembering the taste of the weiners (bad).
He sighs. “And what was that, baby?”
“Phoenix. We haven’t tried to drift in years. To just throw ourselves at it like this, with no practice, with no time to think—”
“We’re currently drifting. We’re drifting right now. What other practice do we need?”
Miles turns in his pacing at the edge of the bed, his inner ear off tonight, the pivot too deep for comfort. “This isn’t a game. This is dangerous. What—if something goes wrong, after what it did to you last time—”
“To us,” Phoenix says.
It’s Miles’ memories that sweep them this time, strong as the breakers. Phoenix as he’d hung from the harness in Ratel’s burning, electrified cockpit. A corpse, a scarecrow, a bare-ribbed carcass awaiting the butcher, etc. etc. Phoenix wasn't really there. Phoenix remembers very little of the four hours it took their rescuers to cut into Ratel Cerulean, hesitant as they were to set off her distempered nuclear heart. He remembers pain and Miles screaming. Howling. He’d been informed afterwards, by surgeons and Miles’ fear, how bad it had been. Miles remembers, far beyond his own pain, the burning smell of Phoenix’s skin and the blood emerging in fat slugs from the seams of Phoenix’s suit. Miles’ mind had been peeling open like fruit beneath a knife. He’d been so sure, for days after, until Phoenix woke up and could be examined himself, that Phoenix’s eye had been gone. He was sure he’d seen it sluicing away.
Phoenix, in bed, rubs a hand over his eye, calluses catching on the scar. It was just the scar. His eye was fine. The eye had been fine. “You didn’t do that to me,” Phoenix says. “Don’t apologize for that.”
Miles had been commanding officer.
“C’mon,” Phoenix murmurs.
Miles slides away from him, slipping the noose of Phoenix’s grace. That’s not his word—Phoenix would never call it grace. Miles, half the room away, says, “It’s dangerous. It’s—beyond that. God knows what we’d risk. How many people in the Dome’s medical staff are even aware of our neurology?” He hates calling it a drift. “What happens when something goes wrong and they have no idea what they’re looking at?”
“911’s still operational, right?”
“Phoenix, take this seriously!”
“Miles, it’ll be okay.” Miles doesn’t believe him. Phoenix says it again. “We’ve been over this a million times. We’re not out fighting a kaiju this time. We’re not even leaving the shop floor. We’ll be in the dome, with Ema, with her two guys that know the stuff, with like one Jaeger tech, and no one else around. Nobody’s going to find out about our drift and nobody else will need to find out, because it’ll be fine. It’s just a drift test. It’s going to work. We’ll be fine.”
He’s still so afraid. He’s only admitted to like half of the things he’s terrified of. He starts to pace, stops again. Here comes another big slice of the pie: “What about Trucy?” Miles asks.
“She won’t even be here,” Phoenix says. “Maya’s picking her up tomorrow. You know that.”
Miles hates that, too, though he won’t fully articulate why and doesn’t appreciate Phoenix picking at that lack of articulation, thank you. Trucy distant, Trucy away—Miles’ fists tighten bloodlessly into themselves.
“What, you’d prefer she stick around?” Phoenix asks. That Trucy would give them a week of subtle teenage hell for canceling her girls’ Kurain weekend is too obvious to need saying. “You’d want her to see if anything goes wrong?”
“So you admit something might go wrong!”
Phoenix groans and laughs and finally lets his arm fall from his eyes. Their junky old room is dim and hazy, pressure-spotted a sickly green. Miles watches him from just out of arms’ reach. He looks just miserable.
“You really should have been some big, hot-shot lawyer, you know that?” Phoenix says. “Always putting me on trial.”
He holds out his hand. “C’mere,” he says.
Slowly, Miles takes it. Phoenix pulls him into their bed. He helps Miles kick his shoes off, nudging them off of the sheets. He sets Miles’ watch on the table beside their bed.
Miles, voiceless, traces the dark flat scars of the burns on Phoenix’s neck. His fingertips shake.
It must be nearly 3:00 AM. “S okay,” Phoenix says. “You didn’t do that to me. It’s going to work.”
Miles wants so badly to believe him. Miles wants, with a desperation he loathes, to catch just a handful of the thing that makes Phoenix so sure.
Neither of them will get to sleep like this. “C’mere,” Phoenix says again, taking Miles’ hands in his own.
He pictures the snow. Mt. Shasta, when he was young, maybe eight. He remembers sitting in the formless powder. He’d been warm. The sun had been just above the trees. No cold drips down his gloves yet, no slush in his boots. The sky had been blue and entire. The world was in concert hushed. Snow had moved with the ease of air between his fingers.
Miles is beside him. He draws Miles’ hand into the snow, making a many-fingered shape with his own. He shows Miles how to sit deeper in the powder, to let it form around you in a smooth bowl. He breathes and Miles breathes with him, exhalations rocketing from their mouths.
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artanticaa · 11 hours
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Tattoo Shop Au HAHA
Okay, picture this (this is not like a fic it is just my ideas):
Marc crams himself in his shop late at night, long after he flipped the "open" sign to "close", and he hunches over in his chair, frantically scribbling design idea, the thoughts in his head moving much faster than what he can do with the pen, but he tries to keep up as to not let any idea slip through the cracks.
He loves that people want to get tattoos from him, but late at night he bites his nails, wondering how he is going to top himself with the next tattoo. Álex knows this, knows that if he wants to find Marc at midnight on a Friday, he should start with the shop. So that is exactly what he does. He has a spare key so he lets himself in and walks to the back to grab Marc.
He throws a shirt at Marc and tells him to get up, that there's a new club in the city and he thinks it would be good for Marc to get out and let loose a little. Marc agrees but very reluctantly, putting on the tank top Álex brought for him.
Little does Marc know, this new club's little theme is UV/black lights. When the two of them get to the little sign outside a small door tucked into a busy street labeled "Neon" Marc is already like, oh no absolutely not, but Álex pushes him in, already seeing the tattoos that cover Marc's arms, legs, neck, and face start to glow.
Marc doesn't like to respond to people when they give him shit for being "a tattoo artist with no tattoos" because, why get into that argument. In reality he is actually covered from head to toe in UV tattoos, which don't show up under normal light, they only show up under black light. So he just lets people believe he has no tattoos.
However, when he gets into this club, he lights up like a glowstick LOL. What he doesn't know is that earlier that night, Valentino's two little gremlin children convinced him to go out with them to a :new club" in the city as well. Pecco and Bez spot someone turned away from them from across the room and they notice all the glowing tattoos decorating his body and tap Vale on the shoulder and tell him to look.
*cue dramatic turn around*
Marc turns around to look at the scene and Pecco, Bez, and Vale are able to see that it is him, the bottom half of his face covered in what looks to be a realistic skull tattoo, from his nose down it almost looks like those x-rays you get at a dentist office.
And like after that, ya know, whole big shock factor, people are looking blah blah. IDK MAN I wanna make a comic of that.
also shout out my beloved best friend @vanillow for yelling with me abt it
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dairy-farmer · 1 day
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Please consider this ridiculously convoluted idea inspired by my favorite Norse myth:
Basically, there are a couple of parents whose son is being threatened by a monster (ogre / trolls/giant / whatevs) and they pray to Odin for help to protect their son. Odin says no because he's busy and/or he's not interested in helping these random humans. So next they try praying to Thor for help but get a similar answer, and start to despair. But Loki happens to hear about Odin and Thor turning down this couple and their son and shows up to intervene and defeat the monster (I suspect because of how many children Loki has lost in the mythology). The story ends with the three of them giving Loki a hug in thanks.
So what does this have to do with Tim and the bat family? Consider: Justice Lords situation and let's say because of the whole 'being okay with murder/be evil but thinking they are good' thing, the Justice Lords either have no beef with or are actively friendly with Ra's. Ra's has taken an interest in the son of a wealthy Gotham couple named Tim and has sent them a message informing them that he / his minions will be coming to collect Tim.
First, Jack and Janet try asking Superman for help to protect their son, but Superman is basically 'I'm far too busy taking care of the world to worry about one random kid' about the whole thing. So next they try petitioning Batman, but since Batman has a neutral, trending-towards-positive relationship with Ra's in this universe, he declines to interfere.
But Bruce has a son; Dick Grayson, AKA Nightwing AKA formerly Robin (and everyone knows that Robins, the first one at least, are rather mischievous. Thus the Loki role)! Dick hears about the situation and how both Superman and Batman have declined to help. And maybe, even if Ra's and his League aren't enemies in this universe, let's say Dick has some animosity towards Talia ( how dare she try to date his father: Baby!Dick to the rescue cockblock) and messing with Ra's is a roundabout way of messing with her.
So Nightwing shows up and sends the assassins (possibly even Ra's himself) packing, saving the day! Jack and Janet are so grateful, and bring out Tim from the panic room they had hidden him in to meet and thank Nightwing personally. And when Dick sees Tim for the first time, he falls in love instantly: Tim is a beautiful teenager, all smooth pale skin, strong yet delicate limbs, silky black hair and intelligent blue eyes. He blushes so prettily when he thanks Dick for keeping him away from Ra's (and from definitely becoming his new little wife).
Dick plays it cool, even while he drinks in every detail of Tim, already planning how to court this beautiful young man. Nightwing even cracks a joke about getting a kiss for saving the damsel in distress. He is pleasantly surprised when Tim blushes, looking down nervously, before placing a hand on Nightwing's shoulder and leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his cheek.
Dick wants to stay longer, but unfortunately he has to figure out how to clean up the mess/get the assassins back to Ra's before it becomes an issue. He promises before he leaves that he will come back to 'check in' on Tim and make sure he's doing all right.
(That's all I really have, aside from this somehow leading to a detailed and relentless (and enthusiastically welcomed) courtship that ends up with Tim revealing that he knows who Nightwing really is and them eventually getting married (and fucking nasty style, of course 😘)
Thank you for indulging me in this myth nerd silliness! 🦇
❤️❤️❤️❤️!! dick obviously being so unable to resist sweet little tim, he's tim's knight in shining armor afterall, his little damsel which tim is all too happy to be ❤️!
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denizenhardwick · 7 months
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last question for casting in my au is: do i create an oc to be the mom, or do i genderswap maruki?
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aajjks · 10 months
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Teachers pet (m)
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synopsis: forbidden is always irresistible.
pairing: yändêrê stüdënt x fëm!tëächër rëädër.
warnings: söft yändērē, sïmp bëhävïöür, öbsëssîvë thoughts, öbsëssïön, dïrty thöüghts, tëächêr x stüdënt, förbïddën rômãncë. ägë dïffërënce.
note. my second oc is here, send him asks, talk to him, ask me questions about him, I like him he’s sexy 😵‍💫
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yandere!student who has the biggest crush on you.
You who are his teacher, so much older than him.
Yandere!student who only excels at your classes, trying his best to get good grades so he can impress you.
Yandere!student who feels like he will actually cum when you praise him, or call him a good boy.
Yandere!student who hates it when you praise his fellows, he hates it, it makes his skin itch, he wants to kill anyone who gets your praise other than him.
Yandere!student who is rude to his other teachers, he can’t focus on their lectures, all he thinks about is you you you.
Yandere!student who is so shy around you, who puts in so much effort into his appearance for your sake, who loves to act like a good boy, so you can see just how good he can be.
Yandere!student who is always early to your class, who always makes sure to sit right infront of you so you can look at him.
Yandere!student who couldn’t help but cry from the relief when he got to know that you were divorced and currently single.
Yandere!student who doesn’t hesitate to beat up the creeps in your class that sexualise you, oh no, he’s going to kill them, you are not an object or a piece of meat to be ogled at.
Yandere!student who purposely gets detention just so he can look at you for hours and fantasise about his desires,
Yandere!student who finds your children so adorable, who makes sure to slip in a few compliments for them to charm you.
Yandere!student who wants you so bad, but he knows you won’t ever give him a chance.
yandere!student who won’t stop until you’re his. Because he always gets what he wants.
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“Christian?”
he can hear someone call out his name, yet he doesn’t reply, he’s busy looking at you, you’re so beautiful with your glasses, that cherry shade of lipstick on your lips is driving him insane.
How can someone look so hot while teaching, he will have to ask you that.
“Christian?!!?” Oh he’s getting pissed now.
“WHAT?!!?” The blue eyed male stands up, chewing on his metal tongue piercing as he glares his icy eyes into the girls face, Christian doesn’t realise the attention of the whole class on him,
Until you call his name out.
“Christian Dias? Is everything alright?”
His eyes almost roll back the way you call out his name, you say it with so much elegance it makes him want to scream. “M-Ms YN… she keeps talking to me, can you please change my seat?”’
“Umm sure. But not now, the period is almost over so tomorrow, now focus.”
He can’t argue with you.
“Okay.”
“And see me after class.”
His eyes widen with surprise, excitement starts to bubble inside his chest. He gives you a nice dimpled smile. “Sure? Anything you want, ms YN!”
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daycourtofficial · 5 months
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I Know Something You Don’t Know
Summary: Everyone else finds out you and Azriel are expecting a baby before you and Azriel do.
Author’s note: this is something? Isk where it came from, just went with it.
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Cassian loved calm mornings. Coming home from training, cleaning up, and enjoying a few hours of calm to himself. He usually just lounges about the house, in various rooms, soaking in the silence, thinking about his day, his family, anything really.
He was sure this was to be one of those mornings, until he hears you bustling down the stairs in a quick pace.
Upon seeing Cassian at the table, calmly eating his array of sausages and bacon, you give him a nod.
The general laughs at his brother’s mate, whose arms are full of supplies to do mother knows what.
“Do you still have a body under all that stuff or are you just a tent with legs now?” He asks, laughing.
“Har har,” you reply, walking briskly through the room, “I told my nephews I’d teach them how to set up a tent and I’m running late. Can you open the door for me?”
Cassian rises, obliging your request. He loved ribbing you, but he also adored you as a person and as Azriel’s mate. You and Feyre were the best people to have as in-laws, a sentiment his brothers likely don’t share about his own mate.
“Well, I hope you all have a great time camping, don’t get eaten by any bears, please.” He says, opening the door for you.
“Ah, we’ll just be in my sister’s backyard camping, but it’ll be loads of fun. See you later, Cass!” You say, walking through the door.
Once the door is shut behind you, Cassian freezes as your scent lingers in the doorway. Your usual scent, of course, with a very soft, delicate undertone of flowers mixed in. So soft, he didn’t notice it while you were here.
Pregnant.
-
Cassian got the relaxing morning he thought he would. No one else came back to the house for several hours, an opportunity Cassian would usually relish and take delight in. Today his thoughts would only allow him to think of his brother and you and your babe.
His first thought was if Azriel knew, and knowing his brother, if he had any inclination you were pregnant, he wouldn’t have let you leave alone.
When the two of you mated, Azriel was insufferable. He was certain you would die from suffocation due to his hovering. On your first time seeing everyone after the frenzy, Cassian went to hug you and Azriel growled at him. You were incredibly patient and understanding, recognizing that it came from a mixture of his instincts to protect and his fear of anything happening to you.
It got so bad at one point you started bringing a spray bottle and would spray him when he was being too territorial.
Nesta and Feyre had walked into the house to find Cassian sitting at the table, pulling on his hair, a mixture of excitement and concern on his face. It was obvious he’d been sitting there for hours, his long forgotten breakfast gone cold hours ago.
“Cass, are you alright?” Feyre asks, coming to sit next to him.
Feyre’s voice breaks him out of his stupor, “Pregnant,” is all he can muster.
Fwyre looks at Nesta, “no no, not me,” Nesta replies, sniffing the air, “not you either.”
Feyre looks back at Cassian, “are you the pregnant one, Cass?”
“Azriel is.”
Feyre’s smirk drops from her face, “w-what?”
“Well okay not Azriel, but she is. She’s pregnant. They’re having a baby!”
Cassian feels ten pounds lighter being able to share this with someone. He jumps from his chair, standing in front of Feyre and Nesta.
“They’re having a baby, and neither of them know it.”
-
This day was absolutely rubbish for Azriel. Boring meetings, messy work, and stupid paperwork had him leaving early and staying incredibly late. All he wanted was to come home, eat dinner, and lay in bed with you on top of him.
He walked into the doors of the house, not expecting to find anyone, let alone finding his whole family in the foyer bickering like children.
“Okay but where will the banner go!” Cassian yelled at Mor.
“We already have a banner, we don’t need yours!”
“Yeah but I hand painted mine! I want them to know I was the first to know and that I’m the most excited for them!”
Feyre scoffs at Cassian, “if you’re the most excited, then why have Rhys and I already hired a team of nursemaids and nannies and have been gathering nursery supplies all day?”
Cassian rolls his eyes at his sister in law and high lady, “okay fine, you’ve spent the most money on the child, but I’ll teach them how to fly and all the best swear words.”
Mor starts to rebuttle, “yeah but I’ll be the best aunt, we’ll go shopping and,” she pauses, the first to notice Azriel’s return home, “Az, you’re home.”
All eyes snap to Azriel in the doorway, and he is no closer to figuring out what he’s looking at. Balloons are strewn about, as are streamers, there’s confetti, cakes, and what look like two banners that he can’t see what they say.
“What’s all this? Is it someone’s birthday?” He asks, walking forward and swiping some icing off a cake as Elain tuts at him and swats his hand.
“Uh,” Cassian replies, “it will be someone’s birthday.”
Azriel looks at him, “what does that mean?”
Cassian walks towards his brother, his arms outstretched, clamping down on his shoulders.
Looking him the eye, Cassian says, “do not freak out in that Azriel way you do when big things happen.”
Azriel scoffs, trying to shrug off Cassian’s hands. “I do not ‘freak out’,” his last words in air quotes.
Cassian continues speaking, “yeah says the guy who hid for two weeks when the mating bond snapped for him.”
Azriel opens his mouth to argue, but Cassian continues. “Speaking of, I saw your lovely mate as she left this morning.”
Azriel looks at Cassian, waiting for him to continue. “And after she left I realized there was a… scent.”
Azriel stiffens, his instincts kicking in as he responds, “what kind of scent?”
Cassian immediately shuts down Azriel’s thoughts, “whoa nothing like that, no. She’d never smell like another male, she’s too obsessed with you. No, it was a-a baby. She’s pregnant.”
As Cassian’s words were registering in his brain, Mor slowly lifted the banner so he could see that it said “Congratulations Bat Baby!”
Azriel looks at Cassian, deep-rooted fear of allowing his hopes to rise just to have them taken from him, “you’re sure? Absolutely sure?”
Cassian, unable to gauge Azriel’s reaction, replies with a quick, “yes.” Azriel wastes no time, sweeping Cassian up into a hug, lifting him off the ground. This show of affection was abnormal for Az, especially initiated by him, but Cassian gladly enjoys the moment.
Cassian can feel Azriel laughing into his chest as he sets him down, and everyone in the room is smiling at him, feeling his joy.
Azriel looks at Cassian, “but wait - do all of us know? Except for her?”
Cassian looks a bit sheepish, “well… maybe?”
-
Walking back towards the house, you walk through the open markets of Velaris, loving the smells of all the flowers and fresh bread. Walking through the vendors, several of them stop you, giving you gifts. You try to decline them, unable to accept their flowers, their chocolates, their breads. But they won’t let you give them back, and they absolutely refuse to allow you to pay for the gifts.
“I can’t just take these without paying!” You tell one vendor you frequent, Lila.
Lila scoffs at you, “it is called a gift! Have you never received one before?”
You roll your eyes, “of course I have, but this is different-“
Lila interrupts you, “it is not different. This is a gift. Accept it. Congratulations.”
You look at her in bewilderment, but a customer comes in at that moment and takes Lila’s attention. You walk through the market, your arms full of gifts from the vendors you frequent, confused as to why you have them.
You walk up the steps into the townhouse, toeing open the door after spending several minutes trying to find your keys.
“Honey?” You call out, removing your keys from the door. “The people of Velaris have gone nuts.”
You start making your way into the living room, still carrying what feels like 50 pounds of flowers. “They kept giving me things. We have like 20 bouquets and 10 loaves of bread!”
You feel him approach, helping grab things out of your arms and setting them down. “Did something happen and I missed it? Lila even congratulated me-“ Your words stop as you see the banners over the doorway.
“CONGRATULATIONS BAT BABY!” in beautiful writing, with little bats painted all over it.
Another one reads, “CONGRATS ON THE BAT!”
One written in what appears to be Cassian’s handwriting says, “I’M GOING TO BE AN UNCLE!”
You look at Azriel, still not understanding. “What’s happening?” You finally take a good look at him, and he is on the verge of crying.
“When you left this morning, Cassian smelled you. I didn’t want to get too excited until I smelled you myself, but oh gods.”
He wraps you in his arms, deeply inhaling you. “You’re pregnant,” he laughs into your shoulder.
“Pregnant?” You ask him, clearly not having heard him correctly.
You and Azriel stopped taking contraceptives a few years ago, knowing it would probably be a century before you had a baby of your own.
“Me? Pregnant?” He laughs, “yes.”
He pauses, thinking about something. “Is this still something you want? We jumped the gun a bit with the decorating, but I assumed because we talked before.” He looks into your eyes, “if you’ve changed your mind, that’s okay. We’ll figure something out. It’s-“
You cut him off, “I haven’t changed my mind, I’m just..” you trail off, looking around you, “amazed I’m the last one to know!”
The both of you laugh, Azriel grabbing your face and kissing you deeply. When you pull away, all of the inner circle has winnowed in, Cassian shooting off confetti.
“Surprise!” They all yell, laughing. The joy thrumming through the bond with Azriel is all consuming from both ends, and you’re sure everyone around you can feel it.
Cassian approaches you, embracing you in a big hug. He kisses the top of your head, then crouches down so he’s eye level with your stomach.
“Hi Cassian Jr.” he says. Azriel scoffs, pushing him so he falls on the floor.
“What? I figured it out, I get naming rights!”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, dummy.” Mor tells him, giving him a pointed look as she sweeps you into a hug.
“I’m so happy for you,” she says, pulling back to look at you. “Me too,” you tell her. She looks at Azriel, who has let the happiness fade enough for his instincts to kick in, “not happy to deal with him during your pregnancy.”
You laugh, “it’ll be a miracle if he lets me leave the house.” He scoffs, as if he’d ever let you out of his sight again.
Feyre approaches you, cradling Nyx in her arms. “They’ll be, what, a year and a half apart?” You smile at her, cooing at the baby in her arms. “They’re going to be best friends,” you tell her.
All of you spend the evening laughing, drinking, eating all the sweets Elain baked, and soaking in all the joy from the newest addition to the family.
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byunpum · 6 months
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Mama's Boy| part 2
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Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's
Warning: kinda sad, crybaby lo'ak, Sweet family moment.
Note: Since the last post about this oneshot was so well received, I wanted to make another part. A little more sad, but with a good ending. More about lo'ak's relationship with his human mom and Y/N's relationship with neytiri and jake. If you want there could be a part 3, but that's up to you.
AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)
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"Payakan how I wish you knew my mother" speaks lo'ak to his friend. The boy had escaped for a while from the metkayina clan. His new home. He went to spend some time with his friend tulkun, he needed to distract himself. He had been feeling so sad the last week, his birthday was coming up and the most important person in his life was not with him. "She would love you so much…she is beautiful and kind and…she is everything" says lo'ak lying on the creature's back. As he looks up at the stars, pointing to one. " my mom also come from that star, just like my dad…but compared to my dad, she is a human" lo'ak looks at tulkun, who made a noise of curiosity. Payakan asked himself the same question everyone asked when lo'ak said his mama was a human.
"Mama says that eywa blessed her with me…that I am a miracle. That I am her miracle." Lo'ak continues to stare at the star, as his eyes begin to glaze over with homesickness. "That's why I have my hands like this…as well as my feet. And my facial features are a little different…I look like my mom" Lo'ak laughs a little, trying to control the tears that were starting to come out. Payakan asks him if he misses her, making lo'ak keep a long silence. "Of course I do… she's the only person who understands me" lo'ak turns and hugs payakan. Payakan can feel lo'ak's tears fall on his skin. It breaks his heart, feeling his friend this sad. "I wish mama was here," lo'ak says, whimpering even more.
You had to leave your family, when Jake had to leave the clan. Jake thought it best for you to stay with norm, until he could find a safe place. Where you could be with the family. The omaticaya clan accepted you because you had grown up there, but in other clans humans were not welcome. So Jake would eventually try to get them to accept you, this was temporary. But it was still painful for the whole family. Neytiri's tears were running down her cheeks, and she didn't want to let go of your hand, as she walked up to the ikran with tuk. The little tuk was crying, as she asked you to join them. "My darling…mommy will be with you soon" you comfort the little one, neytiri did not let go of your hand. "Promise me you'll be okay" says neytiri, watching you nod your head. You were doing everything you could to control yourself. You didn't want them to see you destroyed, especially since lo'ak was watching you. The other children in the family were sad, and wiping their tears. But lo'ak was serious, looking straight ahead. He was upset with you, he thought you might go and it was you who didn't want to go with them.
You walk towards jake, he kneels down and gives you a soft kiss on the lips (the reader is wearing the oxygen mask I explained in this post "click here") "I'll come for you…I promise" says jake, hugging you as tight as he can. "Please tell him how much I love him…yes?" you pull away from him a little, to look at lo'ak. Your boy doesn't even want to say goodbye to you. "I will…don't worry he will understand" jake says goodbye for the last time and gets on his ikran. Everyone leaves, lo'ak takes one last look at you, watching your figure grow smaller the further away they go. And there right there his eyes begin to fill with tears. ++ +++ It was only 1 day before his birthday, and lo'ak couldn't feel more sad. Usually you two had a habit. Normally you were always with everyone in the family, you were always with your other children. But lo'ak's birthday was special, just for the two of you. You used to walk through the jungle, make jewelry for him. It was your time together, and now he was sitting on the sand. Watching the waves crash, while trying to arrange various pieces of snail shell. He had spent the whole day, searching for the materials he needed, getting away from everyone.
Tsireya together with rotxo and ao'nung went to ask what was wrong, well tsireya wanted to know. Lo'ak had been distant from the group of friends. "Hey…you" shouts ao'nung getting lo'ak's attention as the group of friends approached him. "H-hello" speaks lo'ak glancing at them quickly, but turning his full attention back to his work. "What are you doing?" asks tsireya, kneeling down to be closer to see what lo'ak is doing. "I'm collecting material to make some bracelets with my mom, for when she gets here," says lo'ak. This gets the boys' attention, looking at each other curiously. "When she comes? Your mom is here" roxto speaks while pointing to the sully's marui.
Lo'ak looks at him, and laughs a little. "No…my other mom…my birth mom. She will be coming very soon," lo'ak says. "You have another mom? That sounds amazing" says tsireya cuirious at what lo'ak said. "Yes, my mom stayed in the jungle, so she would be safe. She is a person from the sky" says lo'ak, realizing what he said. "Ahh mmm" lo'ak tries to fix what he said. "Your mom is a demon? How is that possible?" ao'nung starts to laugh, but rotxo pushes him away. "Is that true?" asks tsireya, watching lo'ak get flustered. Taking everything from the sand, and starting to walk towards his marui. Leaving the group of confused boys with more questions. "That was very rude of you," rotxo says to ao'nung. The boy lifts his shoulders and rolls his eyes.
Lo'ak arrives at the marui, lucky for him only his parents were there. Jake was helping neytiri with the food, they both saw how lo'ak quickly entered and went to the balcony behind the marui. He was holding some things in his hands and by his face they could see that he was crying. Jake looked quickly at neytiri, she stops him. "I'll go," says Neytiri. Getting up to see what was going on, he found lo'ak sitting down. He had some shells in his hands, together with other materials. As he cried inconsolably. "Lo'ak…everything okay honey?" asks neytiri wrapping lo'ak in her arms.
"I miss mom…she's supposed to be here. Everything is fine…why isn't she here?" cries lo'ak, tears were falling non-stop on his arms. Neytiri didn't know what to tell him, she missed you too. She needed you too, everyone in the family did. "Lo'ak I know you miss her…but you must wait a little longer," Neytiri says. Lo'ak looks at her, his look was one of upset. He looked like a lost little boy. "dad said she would be here….and tomorrow is my birthday and she's not here!!!! I miss my mom!!!" lo'ak cries harder, while neytiri hugs him. Cuddling him on her chest, she decides not to say anything and just comfort her son.
After a while, neytiri manages to calm lo'ak down. The boy stays on the balcony preparing his materials. While neytiri enters the marui, seeing that jake was waiting for her. "So?" asks jake. Neytiri sits up and looks at jake. Her eyes were soaking wet. "Jake… Y/N I miss her so much" neytiri wipes her tears, jake walks over and hugs her. "I miss her too" jake comforts neytiri. "Isn't there some way she…" neytiri looks at jake. Jake knew what neytiri meant, but it was a difficult situation. It had been a few months since the altercation with the RDA, and barely everyone had made it out alive. Neteyam had been badly hurt, lo'ak and the others had almost died. And spider had to return to the Omaticaya clan. Ronal didn't want humans in the clan, so it was very difficult for jake to bring you in. "Neytiri you know I can't do anything" jake tries to explain to her, but she gets up annoyed. But before leaving the marui she looks at jake. "For some things you move heaven and earth…but to bring our partner you look for a thousand excuses. She wouldn't look for excuses to be with us" says neytiri, angry.
Jake was between a rock and a hard place. They saw him as the bad guy, but he didn't want to put you in danger. Jake knew that something bad could happen to you, this was a dangerous place. But seeing his family suffer like this broke his heart. He missed you too. You were also his partner…he needed you. You were an important pillar in the Sully family, Jake felt that little by little everything was falling apart without your presence. He felt that he was falling apart without you.
That night was very slow, everyone had gone to bed earlier than usual. And lo'ak didn't even want to eat. He stayed in bed all afternoon. He would be lying if he said he hadn't cried a few times. He fell asleep, wishing his wish would come true that eywa would listen to him. It was the only thing he asked for.
In the morning, lo'ak began to open his eyes carefully, watching as the sun's rays began to enter through the entrance of marui, but he continued to lie down. He closed his eyes more, not wanting the day to begin. It was his birthday and he already knew it was going to suck…but out of nowhere he felt someone give him a warm kiss on the cheek. Ignoring the affection, he settled in more. "mama let go of me" lo'ak moaned, thinking neytiri was waking him up. But he felt someone kiss him again and heard that distinct smile. "Are you sure about that my love?" you speak, you were on the edge of lo'ak's hammock. Lo'ak's eyes snap open, looking back. Seeing the figure of his mother there, he couldn't believe it. "Ma-mama is that you?" asks lo'k, her voice was already getting shorter as he felt the tears building up in his eyes. "Mmm yes my love…I'm here" you caress lo'ak's face. The boy turns and hugs you with all his heart. Starting to cry out loud, he was so happy. "Mama…my mama is here" lo'ak doesn't let go of you at any moment.
This wakes up the whole family, who are left in speechless shock when they see you there. In the middle of the marui, hugging lo'ak. The first to jump out of the hammock is neytiri, running towards you. To join lo'ak's hug. "Ma Y/N, for my eywa" neytiri also begins to cry from happiness. The other children also run to greet you. "Mama!!!" neteyam nuzzles into your shoulder while tuk and kiri do the same. "How are you here?" neytiri pulls away to look at you, lo'ak hasn't let go of you at any time. Sometimes he forgets that he is twice your size. "Well someone went looking for me" you speak as you see jake, this one was at the entrance of the marui watching the whole scene. Jake approaches his family. "Well…now we have to figure out how to fix this whole 'demon' being here thing" jokes Jake, stroking your cheek with his thumb. But nothing matters at this point, because everyone was excited enough to think about anything else.
After a long welcome, all the children in the family decided to go get you something for a special breakfast, leaving Jake, Neytiri and you alone for a moment. Jake and Neytiri were watching you from a corner as you settled your things. "Did something happen?" you ask laughing a little, watching your partners look at you so lovingly. Neytiri was still teary-eyed. "Come here," says Jake, shaking his hand for you to join them. You walk over taking jake's hand, you were now in the middle of the two of them. You watch as neytiri moves closer to you, taking your face in her hands. It wasn't a long kiss, but it was enough to let you know that she missed you. You hug her neck, feeling her face in your neck. "I love you so much," says Neytiri. "What about me?" says Jake, still holding your hand. You two laugh, and you pull Jake close to kiss him as well. Feeling jake pull you into his lap, giving you kisses on your cheeks. While neytiri sat right in front of you, very close. Taking your hands, caressing them. Checking if you had no wounds. This was a very intimate moment, a moment you had not experienced for a long time.
"Ney I'm fine" you laugh, while neytiri keeps checking every part of your body. Lifting your legs and arms. "Are you sure? Nothing happened?" neytiri asks and jake just watches with a cute smile on his face. "Yes…the ones I'm worried about are you guys. And more you" you look up to see jake, he still had some bruises on his face and some cuts that were still healing. "Oh no baby…I'm fine, don't worry" jake says, feeling you touching some wounds on his arm. "He's very stubborn…I've been asking ronal to take care of him for weeks" says neytiri. You look at neytiri curiously. "Ronal?" you ask. "Oh..ronal is the Tsahìk of this clan, and speaking of her. Let her know you're here," says jake. Neytiri looks at jake with surprise and punches him in the arm. "Don't tell me no one knows Y/N is here?" neytiri looks at jake, who just laughs nervously. "Jake!!!" you start to fuss, but watch as jake laughs and takes neytiri's arm so that now she was on his lap too. Snuggling both of you in his arms. "I'll worry about that later…now I want to enjoy my ladies' company" jake jokes, giving them both kisses. You guys complain, but you don't complain about enjoying the moment.
Part 3?
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sebbianas · 8 months
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After the war Minerva becomes Hogwarts’ Headmistress and so she had to finally clear out her beloved office and dorm in the Gryffindor Tower for the next Head of Gryffindor. Its been years since she started there and she knows she’ll have to go through a lot of old essays, books, and letters.
It was halfway through her cleaning did she discover a bunch of essay she did when she sat all her 7th year Gryffindor down to ask them what their plans are. The essay was simple, answer the question “where do you see yourself in 10 years?”. It’s a yearly thing she does with her graduating students just so she can keep track of where they’ll be and where she can finds them.
Minerva wasn’t sure which batch this essay belongs to so she was a bit excited to see who’s essay it all belongs to and see if they end up doing what they said they will. With a swish of her wand the papers straightened themselves and she was able to see the first essay on top.
Her heart immediately broke.
Sirius Black
I have no plans 10 years from now but inside those 10 years I want to explore the world. I want to see everything until I get sick of it, I want to be everywhere. I want to buy the stupidest shit things to bring home to my friends and hopefully my brother. 10 years is a long time to fix a broken relationship, right?
Minnie knew the other essay will destroy her but seeing these student’s handwriting would give her so much comfort.
Lily Evans
Quite realistically 10 years is a short time to be something great or historical, I wish to explore what this world can offer to me and show it what i can offer it. I want to prove myself more than just my magical blood. I am a great witch and I wish to prove that to the world. Along with this I hope to raise a family of my own, nurture a home that is full of compassion, kindness, and love.
Remus Lupin
I don’t have any great expectations for my future, if I get a stable job then I’ll be okay. What I hope to see in 10 years is that the family I have with me now are still there with me.
Mary MacDonald
10 years from now I hope the war is over and I am free to be a fashion designer for the muggle world and the wizarding world.
Marlene Mckinnon
I want to be the greatest quidditch player there is. I want little girls to look at me and realize they can do whatever they want, I want to give them hope that there is more to life than boys putting you down. I want to show them that there is strength in trying and there is strength in their femininity. I want to be the voice that I spent my whole childhood looking for.
Peter Pettigrew
I hope I’m braver than I am now, stronger than I am, and finally comfortable in who I am and who I become.
There was no controlling the tears that fell from Minnie’s eyes, she couldnt hole them back anymore. There was 1 more essay and she knew whatever’s inside it will destroy her even more.
James Potter
10 years from now, I hope the war is over and I was able to keep everyone I love safe.
Minnie holds the papers to her chest. She never had children of her own but these kids? These children she never watch grow up? These kids are hers.
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archivesainz · 4 months
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in that summer ˚✧ ₊˚ 🌊 sv5
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. . . Sebastian and Y/n go on a vacation with the kids, but they're not together. Something goes to change. .
genre: sebastian dad! pregnancy mention, smut, creampie, ex husband and ex wife.
pairing: sebastian vettel x y/n (reader she/her)
a/n: english is NOT my first language, so if have any errors please tell me.
The 6-year-old boy let out a hot laugh every time his father picked him up and threw him in the air, leaving him on the floor again and running after him next.
- "Dad will get you!" - Sebastian said aloud as he ran after his son, not to mention the laugh when he stumbled and fell with his ass to the floor, releasing a childish laugh.
Sebastian ran quickly to the boy checking to see if he was okay. Isaac smiled at his father, showing his beautiful dimples along with his perfect blue eyes, matching his little blonde hair with a messy bangs, a copy of Sebastian.
- "How are you, big boy?" - Sebastian asked the little boy, getting up and taking him on his lap quickly, fixing his little blouse with a drawing of some fishes in front.
- "Yes, dad, I'm fine." - Isaac answered him, getting a kiss on the chubby cheek. His little hands holding Sebastian' black shirt as they went to the kitchen.
It was a vacation and there was the Vettel family, it had only been a few weeks since they were in a very quiet and familiar resort where everyone had a lot of fun - especially the children - and relaxed from months of work and daily stresses.
But there was a catch. Sebastian and Y/n were not together. Yes, the couple decided to make that trip for the children. They knew how much they wanted and needed a moment with the whole family together. So they talked and decided to travel.
Things weren't exactly good between the two. It was hard to hear the children repeatedly asking if "Dad will go back to live with us, mom?" Or "Daddy, are you going to go back to live at home?" Anyway... they were just children who wanted to see their parents together again.
Sebastian and Y/n had broken up about 4 years ago, when the couple's youngest daughter was born. To tell you the truth, they weren't exactly together when the girl was close to being born, but they still lived together.
There was no way to explain specifically what happened for the two to separate. There were many reasons, and the main one was the routine. Sebastian worked too much, always very tired and when he got home the rest of his energy was spent by his eldest son, at the time still a baby.
Y/n also worked, but spent most of her time taking care of her son, not that she didn't like it, she loved to take care of her little boy. The problem is that she was very overwhelmed and this generated fights and more fights between the couple.
So after many nights of discussions and reconciliations with raw and dirty sexes, Ivy was born. Well, many things happened after that, and after a while Y/n couldn't stand that tense and heavy atmosphere that stayed at home anymore, and she couldn't handle all that being pregnant and having to take care of a child.
They separated and Sebastian left home. Leaving Y/n shaken. However, Sebastian never moved away from his children, he always came back to see them and whenever he had time he went out with the children. Ivy stayed more with her mother, of course, because she was very young. But Sebastian didn't stop her from nusting and giving her all her love and affection.
- "I want mom.." - Isaac grumbled on Sebastian's lap, when he entered the kitchen seeing Y/n sitting at the table while feeding Ivy. She looked at herself over her shoulder, that look that Sebastian knew very well.
Sebastian put his son on the floor watching him walk to his mother, who ran her hand on his straight hair, asking him softly if he was okay.
- "Did you fall love, did you get hurt?" - Y/n asked carefully.
- "Fall but Dad caught me, I'm fine mom." - He replied looking at the little sister who had her right little hand on her curly hair while the other leaned on her mother's chest while drinking her vitamin in her moana's cup.
Ivy was born full of health and joy. The little girl had a lot of energy and was the princess of her parents. The brown hair full of curls, the big and green eyes like the mother's, and the full mouth that also pulled the mother. The only thing that reminded her father was her little nose and eyebrows. And she also had no dimples, unlike her brother.
- "I want water." - Isaac asked while rubbing his face in his mother's hot hand, liking the affection he received.
- "Ask your father love, I'm feeding your sister now."
The little boy nodded walking to his father again who was leaning against the kitchen countertop, his blue eyes staring with affection Y/n feeding Ivy.
Isaac came close to his father touching his legs and having his eyes on himself next.
- "Water daddy." - Sebastian waved taking his son's spider man's glass in the closet and putting water then, giving the boy's little hands watching him drink. He handed the glass to his father when he drank everything and ran back to the living room to play with his various toys.
Sebastian approached Y/n, seeing when she put her sleepy daughter on her lap while wiping the little girl's mouth with a cloth.
- "Tell me soon, I know you're dying to complain." - Sebastian started crossing his arms under his chest, leaning against the wall.
- "These jokes of yours will end up hurting Isaac. I already told you that." - Y/n complained, the irritation was palpable in her voice.
- "It won't hurt, he just fell Y/n, children fall.. and he's growing up too, a lot of energy."- He said watching her walk through the kitchen.
- You know, Sebastian. - Y/n said rolling her eyes, going towards the living room.
Sebastian snorted by running his hands through his hair, he was angry and all he wanted was for things to be as before, he missed Y/n, he missed being a family with her, with the children.
He expected things to change on that trip.
(...)
- "Where do you think you're going like this?" - That's what Sebastian asked when he saw Y/n get out of the bathroom. He was sitting on the couple's bed - Sebastian did not sleep there to tell the truth - while watching the two children playing on top of her, when Y/n came out only in a bikini and short beach shorts.
- "I'm going to sunbathe in the pool, take care of the children for me?" - She asked not looking very interested in giving satisfaction to her ex-husband.
- "Y/n." - Sebastian got up, leaving the pillows near his children so they wouldn't fall out of bed, and walked to Y/n, who took her eyes off her cell phone staring at him - "You won't go out like that alone, if you're going out we'll all go together."- He said, jealousy burning inside your body.
Y/n frowned, observing Sebastian' angry and jealous face. She knew him so well. She approached her ex-husband seeing when he looked down at her breasts.
- "You don't decide whether or not I go out alone Sebastian, and no, we're not all going out together. I need some time for myself." - She said slightly irritated by Sebastian' jealous attitude.
- "Look at this.." - Sebastian said looking at Y/n's big tits - Everyone will look at you, and you know very well that I hate it Y/n.
- "But it's really to look at, I'm single." - She said debauched, but swallowed it dry when Sebastian locked her jaw.
- "Fuck you're annoying me." - He said turning his face to his children who were playing, not caring about the parents arguing there - "Please.. let's all go together, yes?" - He asked, watching Y/n roll his eyes.
- "No, I'm going alone. Take care of the children, I won't be long." - She walked away from Sebastian going towards her children, saying goodbye with kisses and smells.
Before Y/n left the room, Sebastian went after her, stoping her at the door. Y/n snorted angry, but loving to see Sebastian dying of jealousy and running after him like a domestic puppy.
- "What is it Sebastian" - She asked without patience.
- "Just be careful, okay?" - He said running his hand through Y/n's long, curly hair. She waved, liking the affection. - "And don't forget Y/n" - He held her chin - "You're still mine and these tits here" - He looked down - "They're mine." - And before Y/n could answer, he entered the room again slamming the door, leaving Y/n with hers heart racing without containing the naughty smile on her face.
Things would never change apparently, and even if Y/n tried not to fall into Sebastian's sly and seductive charm, she never could, her heart always spoke more for itself than her mind.
The whole thing is that Y/n didn't want to get hurt again. It was difficult to live without Sebastian, even though he had some passing cases, no one would ever be like him. And Y/n knew that his heart would always belong to Sebastian, after all, it was always him. Y/n knew that he would forever have a bond with him, and she still hoped that one day they would go back to what they were before. A happy and united family.
(...)
Sebastian was at the resort gym, it was about ten in the morning, and he had already been there for almost an hour. Working out lightly because I was on vacation. His little boy was also there playing in a corner with his toys, while Y/n was with Ivy at home.
Isaac watched Sebastian carefully making a treadmill, his curious little blue eyes thinking that it was a toy, so he leaned his little hands on the floor and pushed his body up standing up and walking to his father.
When he approached Sebastian automatically put his eyes on the boy, taking off his headphones to hear what his son was saying.
- "Daddy's toy?" - He asked pointing to the treadmill, approaching curiously. Sebastian quickly slowed down and turned off the device, telling his son to move away.
- "Don't, it's not a toy, don't get close, you can get hurt." - He said taking the little boy's arm and pushing him away. Isaac looked up staring at Sebastian's sweaty face, he was shirtless and only wearing black shorts, his body all sweaty.
- "I want to go up!" - The boy asked slyly. Sebastian bent down at the height of his son fixing his straight hair.
- "Isaac can't."
- "I want to go up daddy.. to play." - Isaac kept insisting, wanting more than anything to walk on the "toy"
- "It's not a toy son, is it to train hm?" - Sebastian smiled - "Be strong like dad." - He showed the muscles of his arm, pulling a childish laugh from his son.
- "I want to be like daddy!!" - Isaac said excited, imitating his father's previous movement and showing his chubby little arms.
Sebastian smiled, kissing his son's head. He took him in the arm putting the boy on the treadmill, Sebastian supported his feet next to the machine turning it on and putting it at speed 2 very slowly, so that his son did not fall.
- "You have to keep walking son, will dad hold you so you don't fall all right?" - He said holding both arms of Isaac who agreed with his head, smiling when he saw the treadmill walking under his little feet.
- "Faster!" - The little boy asked excitedly, Sebastian smiled putting it at speed 3 while holding his son carefully, while the child ran on the treadmill.
- "Run, run.. Wow! How fast you are Isaac."- Sebastian increased the speed to 5, Isaac let out a hot laugh running with all his strength while Sebastian held him.
- "I'm faster than Dad" - The boy said loudly, his little feet running non-stop on the treadmill. Your little hair is already sticking to your forehead due to sweat.
- "I want to see if it runs more than that." - Sebastian said fun increasing the speed to 7. The little boy screamed smiling and before he fell Sebastian stopped the machine taking him in his lap and throwing him up, the childish and hot laugh echoed through the empty gym, making his drooling father's heart warm up.
- "More, more, more!!!" - Isaac screamed when Sebastian put him on the floor, taking his water bottle and drinking to hydrate himself.
- "It's better not son, I'm tired and if your mother knows..."
- "Did you know what Sebastian Vettel?" - He choked on the water turning his face and seeing Y/n standing at the entrance of the gym, holding Ivy's little hand that seemed very entertained on her lollipop.
- "Nothing.. it's nothing, isn't it, son?" - He turned his face in the direction of the boy who was already running to his mother.
- "Mom! Mom! Dad let me play running on the floor that walks." - That's what he heard when he felt Y/n's sharp look towards him, he swallowed it dry, knowing that there was another complaint.
Yeah, sometimes Sebastian looked like a child, afraid of his mother (Y/n).
Hours later and they were all in a luxurious restaurant near the resort. All well dressed. Ivy was wearing a little white dress and in her blonde hair an adorable bow of the same color, her little hands with pink painted nails. Isaac was wearing black pants and a burberry blouse, his little legs swinging on the chair while eating.
Y/n was elegant in a burgundy dress, his beautiful smooth and thick legs to show and his big breasts highlighted by the neckline, which was devoured by Sebastian's look.
And Sebastian was perfect as always. A simple black pants and a black turtleneck T-shirt, elegant and a hot total in Y/n's opinion, who held on so as not to let out a sigh every minute, she loved it when he wore a turtleneck.
- "Can you cut for me daddy, please?" - Isaac asked politely to his father who waved cutting a small piece of meat in his son's mouth. Ivy ate next to her mother who also helped her.
- "Are you thirsty , princess?" - Y/n asked her, wiping her dirty mouth in soak.
- "Yes mom, I want juice." - She asked, her beautiful green eyes shining in the direction of her mother, who answered her request by helping her drink the lemon juice. Without containing the smile when the girl made a face.
- "So, tell mom how it was today, did you have fun?" - Y/n asked her children, while noticing Sebastian's look on her, to tell the truth she would never get used to those blue eyes looking so carefully at her details, it was something Y/n always loved about Sebastian.
- "Yes, Dad let me play at the gym and then rode a bike with me!" - Isaac said excited, his dimples like all his mouth dirty with soak. Sebastian smiled affectionately.
- "What a good son, your father is kind of crazy for letting you play on the treadmill.." - She gave a mischievous look at Sebastian who smirked for her.
- "But I'm glad you had fun." - Y/n said running her hand through the boy's hair, who waved, chewing. She turned her gaze to her daughter who practically slept sitting.
- "Are you very tired of today, my dear?" - Sebastian asked her, cleaning Isaac's mouth. The little girl blinked her heavy green eyes, smiling.
- "Yes, dad, mom and I had a day of beauty"- She said confident laughing from her parents, for the way she spoke the words taggled because of sleep.
- "Okay?" - She confirmed, Sebastian approached the little girl taking her little hand and seeing her painted nails.
- "It was beautiful, daughter. You look as beautiful as your mother.." - He said looking away at Y/'n who smirked exposing a dimple.
- "Mom is beautiful!!!" - The girl confirmed, smiling at her father who smoothed her little hand.
- "Absolutely love.. for sure." - Sebastian waved sending a naughty look to Y/n who smiled denying it with her head, helping her son to eat.
After a few hours, they decided to go back to the resort. The children were tired and didn't take long to fall asleep, so as soon as they arrived and changed them, their parents put them in the room.
- "Good night, loves of my life. I love you." - Sebastian said giving a long kiss on the head of his two sleepy children. Watching Y/n do the same before leaving the room.
-"Mom loves you. Sleep well." - That's what Y/n whispered to her children, fixing them right in bed and left more affectionate kisses all over their little face and left the room leaving the door half-open.
🌊
She saw Sebastian leaning against the wall and approached him, his gaze burning with desire in the direction of Sebastian who smirked, knowing more than anyone that look that only Y/n sent him.
- "Too tired?" - He asked crossing his arms.
- "Very.. you have no idea." - Y/n said in an ironic tone, when she rolled her eyes and went to her room, ready to take a shower and relieve her sexual tension. Before she entered the room she felt her arm being grabbed without force by Sebastian, who turned him facing her, grabbing her waist then, Y/n gasped putting her hands on her ex-husband's little breastplate.
- "Where do you think you're going hm?" - He asked, your rogue smile without leaving your face.
- "Rest.. know how to relax." - Y/n approached Sebastian's ear whispering softly: - "I'm so horny, I think I need to relieve myself."
Sebastian took a deep breath, climbing his hand to Y/n's hair where he pulled without much force, he brought his face closer to the fragrant neck passing his nose to her delicate jaw, reaching his ear where he left a wet kiss right below, smiling when he felt Y/n tremble in his arms.
- "I'll help you with that." - She denied it with her head, Sebastian smiled softly against Y/n's warm skin that felt even more wet. He walked away leaving wet kisses all over her neck, got close to her fleshy mouth lightly relacing his lips when he saw Y/n grunting irritated by the provocation. He walked away a little further holding Y/n's face with his hand and watching her give him a submissive look that Sebastian loved. - "Don't play hard Y/n, we both know the little desperate little girl for my cock that you are."
- "So convinced.." - Y/n smiled, biting her lips.
- "Oh you know that yes, and you know even better that only I know how to take care of you babe." - He lowered his voice - "Only I know how to make you cum very hot on my cock - Y/n let a moan escape from her lips, she couldn't help it, she always loved the way Sebastian treated her in sex, the things he said made her so wet. And she knew he liked that.
- "P-please.." - She asked sighing, Sebastian smiled taking his hand off Y/n's face and going down to her waist, feeling her arms on his shoulders soon after.
- "My little whore." - Sebastian whispered, leaving a wet peck on Y/n's lips, she lowered the collar of Sebastian's T-shirt scratching her neck lightly and couldn't stand the provocation anymore, glued her mouths together.
The taste of the wine they had ordered earlier was palpable on their lips, and Y/n grunted during the kiss feeling Sebastian's skillful tongue suck his hard. She missed that kiss and that footprint.
Sebastian pulled his lower lip slowly, passing his tongue then to relieve the pain, leaving a long peck on Y/n before plunging his tongue into her mouth again, she who squeezed the back of her neck and scratched while Sebastian squeezed her waist tightly. He pushed Y/n to the wall that moved her mouth away from her to breathe, opening her eyes and seeing Sebastian's red mouth and rogue smile.
- "So delicious.. I missed your hot little mouth love." - He whispered making the hairs of his arms to get goosebumps, he approached him again leaving a kiss in the corner of her red lips and talking softly near your ear: - "I really want to fuck you very hard in the shower, what do you think?"
- "Yes.. I want everything from you Sebastian" - Y/n confessed sighing feeling the warm breath of Sebastian who kissed her whole neck with devotion - "Do you fuck me hm? That way only you know love." - She said softly running her hands through
Sebastian's hair who walked away smiling.
He held his hand and opened the bedroom door, then locked it. Then they would go to the large suite of the luxurious room, Y/n leaning on the sink with a naughty smile watching Sebastian close the door, when he approached him again starting a new kissing session.
Y/n pulled Sebastians' T-shirt up during the kiss, he who soon walked away taking it off and throwing it away. She couldn't help but look down through the little spotted body, the volume of the big cock already very visible in the black pants.
- "Do you like the view?" - Sebastian asked convinced, Y/n agreed with her head biting her lips.
- "Yummy.." - She spoke quietly. Sebastian smiled, raising his hand to Y/n's thick thighs, lowering his gaze and seeing the breasts he loved so much in front of him.
- "Do you miss when I sucked on your very hot breasts?" - He asks softly, continuing to raise his hand into Y/n's dress, which where he felt Sebastian's hand got even more wet. - "Or rather.." - He arrives in Y/n's lace panties without containing the little smile when she closes her eyes and throws her head back, feeling his hand touching the hard clit - "When did I fuck them with my cock?"
- "Sebastian..." - Y/n moans in need, she rests her hands on her ex-husband's firm shoulders, feeling his finger rubbing hot on her sensitive clitoris.
- "Impressive Y/n. No matter how much time passes, you will always be so sensitive to my touches." - He ran his nose on Y/n's fragrant collarbone going up her neck and delighting in his panting breath in her ear - "A bitch so needs a cock." - And Y/n opens her eyes when he moves away, taking off his pants. Y/n does the same by starting to take off her dress, anxiously.
When the two are naked, Y/n throws a naughty look at Sebastian who wrapped his big cock with a hand masturbating watching Y/n's chubby pussy, he looked up at her eyes speaking authoritatively: - "To the shower. Now." Yn didn't even hesitate to go quickly, entering the large and spacious box, she turned on the shower feeling the strong jet of water hit her hot body, closing her eyes and enjoying it, knowing that Sebastian was watching her.
- "Turns." - She heard Y/n say opening her eyes and seeing him facing her inside the box. He masturbated his thick cock and full of veins jumped slowly, the bright red head with the pre-entment leaking from the slit.
Y/n bit her lip turning around and prancing her wet ass towards Sebastian, hearing him sigh heavily. She smiled naughty shaking slowly while the water wet her body, a fucking hot scene.
- "Do you like it like that, love?" - She ran her hand through her ass giving a strong slap on her wet skin. Sebastian increased the speed of the handjob moaning quietly with his eyesight.
- "Are you going to roll like that on my dick?" - He asked panting.
Y/n turned in front of him again approaching Sebastian's spotted body, she was kneeling slowly for all the glory of the ex-husband who felt more pre-joyment leaking from his cock.
- "First, baby.." - She said touching her strong thighs - "I want you to fuck my breasts." - She licked the red glans, watching Sebastian lock his jaw. - "And then... I'm going to roll and you're going to fuck me very tasty against the box." - Y/n smiled feeling a slight slap on the cheek, Sebastian held her wet hair masturbating the cock very close to her face and hitting her on Y/n's pink cheek.
- "Be quiet and open your fucking mouth." - He told her to watch Y/n wave. She did what was asked and opened her mouth to Sebastian, who stuck his cock inside to make it very wet. Then he left positioning the cock in the middle of Y/n's breasts, she who squeezed him between them.
- "Damn.." - He moaned starting to stock up, everything slipped easily because of Y/n's wet skin who had her eyes glazed on Sebastian who bit his lips moaning softly.
Sebastian supported a hand on the side of Y/n's neck, starting to stock up harder. She who with one hand squeezed his balls and the other leaned on her waist, looking at herself horny.
- "Go love, fuck my tits hm.." - Y/n said almost in a moan, which made Sebastian roll his eyes and slap her pink cheek hard. Y/n whimpered at the burning, then smiling at her ex-husband.
- "Fuck you whore, look at me like this again that I'm going to cum on this beautiful little face of yours." - Sebastian moaned when Y/n licked the sensitive head of his cock, staring at him like that again.
- "Oh fuck.." - He threw his head back taking his cock out of the middle of Y/n's breasts, masturbating fast on the hot tongue of the greedy little whore. Cumming minutes later in Y/n's little mouth and big wet tits.
- "Always delicious.." - Y/n said after a while, getting up and being pushed under the shower, where Sebastian kissed her willingly feeling his own taste.
Y/n reached Sebastian's cock masturbating him lightly to make him hard, which didn't take long. Soon after, she went up scratching Sebastian's abdomen that walked away throwing a silly look at her, Y/n felt her pussy contract with it.
- "Fuck me." - She asked sly, Sebastian just turned Y/n with brutality under the glass of the box. She leaned her hands behind her back as if she were handcuffed, Sebastian masturbated by opening Y/n's wet ass and rubbing his hard and wet cock in the little entrance that contracts anxiously.
- "Sebastian!" - Y/n moaned when he came in for good, starting to stock up. Sebastian held in her arms, while Y/n had her cheek prot in the wet box of the bathroom, her breathing hitting against the glass along with the noise of the bodies crashing under the water in the shower.
- "Hm.. it's still so tight for me, because you know I like it, isn't it a little bitch?" - He said behind him, without stopping stocking up. Y/n moaned feeling Sebastian's hot and wet cock stocking on her little cunt.
- "Yes Sebastian.. fuck your whore!" - Y/n contracted the pussy on Sebastian's cock that grunted excited stocking up hard and non-stop while moaning hoarsely.
The wet bodies collided hard under the shower, the water fell on Sebastian's chest and Y/n's big ass that hit his groin hard, while the two moaned too much at the moment.
- "Fuck" - Sebastian moaned - "Good as fuck." - Y/n got even more wet moaning. She leaned one hand on the glass going down the other to her little clit where she rubbed hard.
- "I'm going to c-cum Seb.. fuck I'm going to cum on your cock." - Y/n moaned with her mouth glued to the box, feeling Sebastian' shead resting on her wet back while he also moaned to himself.
- "Make fun of me that I'm going to fill you with cum." - He said hoarse - "Do you want that? Do you want me to get you pregnant again, you whore?" - He asked kissing Y/n's back.
- "Y-yes fuck.. fills me with cum Seb, cums very hot inside me" - Y/n said moaning loudly when Sebastian stocked up hard three more times cumming inside her in strong jets of hot cum. Y/n then came shaking on Sebastian's cock when he squirted feeling her legs shaking and Sebastian's cock pulsating inside her.
Sebastian turned around asking if everything was okay, Y/n waved smiling and the two kissed again and again.. Until they finish the bath and go to sleep together.
It seemed like things had changed.
(...)
- "Black daddy! I want black!!" - Isaac's voice echoed in the couple's room. They were all there in bed, it was about eight at night and while Sebastian was painting Y/n's nails, Isaac and Ivy entered the room wanting to play with their parents, so everyone decided to paint their nails.
Sebastian smiled at his son waving. It had been three nights since what happened with Y/n and things were good. They had not yet talked about what happened, but somewhere inside them the two knew they were already together again.
- "To match Mom!" - Ivy smiled looking at her nails painted red.
- "That's right, my princess." - Y/n stied her daughter's curls, looking away from her son and Sebastian who painted Isaac's nail with dedication. Her passionate heart is calming up by the scene.
- "Ready son, did you like it?" - Sebastian asked when he finished. Isaac smiled sangly agreeing then approached his mother and sister, Sebastian did the same.
- "I want to see everyone's get together here." - Y/n asked, the three of them did and put their hands under the bed sheet, it was a funny mixture of colors. Sebastian was in dark blue, Isaac black, Ivy red, and Y/n also red.
- "It was beautiful! Did you like it, loves?" - Y/n asked his children who agreed to look at each other's nails.
Sebastian got closer to Y/n taking her hands and kissing them, she smiled leaving a long peck on her lips. He turned his eyes to the children who started singing and jumping on the bed, and with a beautiful smile on his face and shining eyes Sebastian said seriously to Y/n.
- "I love you." - His blue eyes were shining in the direction of Y/n who turned her children's eyes away to Sebastian, also smiling and holding back the cry.
- "I love you too, Sebastian." - She said happy. The two sealed their lips in a passionate kiss moving away when the children played saying that it was disgusting.
Regardless of everything, they were a family, and both Sebastian and Y/n would fight to make it work. And they could do it, because love always wins in the end.
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too-deviant · 2 months
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jackie and wilson.
previous | next series masterlist.
summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.
paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader
word count: 4k
content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?
notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?
PART II — and lord, she found me just in time 
For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly. 
“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!” 
The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not. 
You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it. 
“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room. 
“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse. 
“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”
The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”
“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”
“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”
“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”
“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”
“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”
“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”
You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”
“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response. 
“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?” 
“Okay. Love you.” 
Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad. 
Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking. 
After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice. 
You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat. 
You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”
Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”
His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty. 
You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”
“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie. 
“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours. 
“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” 
You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”
He huffed, “Whatever.”
Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since. 
You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself. 
Or maybe because he’s hot. 
Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.” 
No reply, as usual. 
A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”
He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”
You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”
You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no. 
You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off? 
You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer. 
“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak. 
But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”
You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”
Nice one. 
Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”
“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”
Come on, Castellan, take the bait. 
“Baseball?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject. 
Luke nodded at you, “First base?”
“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”
“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball. 
You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”
You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”
“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries. 
As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be. 
“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?” 
Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question. 
You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“
“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”
“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”
Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”
“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.” 
“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking. 
You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock. 
Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better. 
You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd. 
You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back. 
The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears. 
“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat. 
Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing. 
The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”
“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.” 
Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?” 
You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists. 
“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.”  Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them. 
Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself. 
Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces. 
He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.” 
Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods. 
“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”
He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion. 
“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”
“I know.” He replied, short as usual. 
You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.” 
But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”
He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke. 
“Why did you…come after me?” 
You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”
He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.” 
He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”
“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”
“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.” 
He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”
That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?” 
“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!” 
He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off. 
“A dragon clawed your face off?” 
“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 
You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest. 
“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.” 
Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees. 
Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that. 
He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.” 
“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him. 
He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.” 
“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.” 
“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”
“Deal.”
🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)
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rucksackmentality · 6 months
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List of the truths shared in Nana Morri's Honesty trial (C3E79):
Imogen: I am genuinely scared to meet my mom again.
Laudna: Deep down inside, both Delilah and I want the shard...Fearne should have it, but I don't know anymore what's my opinion or desires or feelings, or hers.
Imogen: I love Laudna deeply but I'm disgusted at the thought of Delilah looking at us all the time.
Orym: I'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. It doesn’t matter if I'm bunking with one of you guys.
FCG: Sometimes I pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don’t do enough with them...Chetney, you have so much love to give and it doesn't seem like you're interested in anything other than wood! There's people out there who you could love and experiences you could share with someone else, but all you care about is wood!
Orym: I've always kind of laughed it off but I guess I do kind of wonder if Chetney is my dad.
Ashton: I am the reason that the Jiana Hexum robbery went fucking wrong, and the reason why I got thrown out of a fucking window.
Fearne: I feel like we’re very ill-equipped for this job and we're going to fail at saving the world. (Laudna: Honestly that's probably true, I'm right there with you.)
Chetney: While wood may be the superior material to metal, I do fear that, with the dwindling interest in it, that children will find my toys - and thereby myself - obsolete every year I grow older.
FCG: I think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time I hurt or kill something - it feels really good. It makes me sort of relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away.
Imogen: I know we're supposed to save the gods, but I've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them would ever respond. I think I'm tainted. I dont know if I want to save gods that don't love me.
Laudna: You know we could rip-cord out of [saving the world] at any moment...right? And sometimes I fantasize about it all the time.
Fearne: I sometimes do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping - not weird stuff, I just like to look at you closely...and maybe like, twiddle your hair or braid it. Nothing bad!
Ashton: Whenever it starts to get quiet, I start worrying that one of us - most of us - are going to end up killing another one of us accidentally...I have panicked thinking about when one you kills another one of us.
Orym: I have all the faith in the world in you guys...and I have also spent time thinking of how to neutralize each of you.
FCG: I kinda worry that I put all my eggs in the Changebringer basket and she might betray us all. I had a really weird conversation with her and I think she's just out for herself and she might not really care about me - but what if she does? And I'm saying horrible things?
Imogen: Fearne, I was really disappointed in you for running away from your power. You should take the shard!
Orym: I really miss Dorian, and sometimes I think that's okay, and sometimes I think it isn't.
Ashton: I feel fucking worse that I just fucked up Fearne's life way more than mine and I should've died instead of that happening.
Chetney: I grew up in the Bramblewood outside of Westruun, and when I was a kid, I came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. All they left behind were toys. They ran when Errevon the Rimelord was running across the plains, and so I'm kind of afraid of dragons. And I had five siblings - Alabaster, Pepper, Sugarplum, Hermey, and Chad - and I was so mad that they left I never looked for any of them, and now I'm pretty sure they're dead. So I think any family I have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me. That's why I don't get attached to anybody.
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suempu · 1 month
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Falls to floor your writing is so lovely Do you perhaps have any kabru x reader sfw/nsfw hcs…
thank you so much for the kind words. “lovely” 🥹 ahh you got me blushing anon lmfao
gn reader + on the receiving end !!!
<3
kabru would be the casual type of lover. he’s nothing but calm and suave with you, which is attractive.
he’s quite attentive of people and you’re no exception. although he really goes out of his way to be accommodating when it comes to you if you’re his lover.
mindful of your expressions and body language. once he sees a sign of you being uncomfortable, kabru will pull you away from the group and talk to you softly.
i feel like he’d be good at taking care of his partner, though he’s not the best, he tries.
kabru’s good at talking you down, grounding you into reality whenever you’re on the verge of a breakdown. let’s say you feel very unstable, he’ll whisper in the most softest tone you’ll ever hear while he holds your hand. he asks permission to touch you beforehand of course.
“here, you can feel my fingers, right?”
“mm.”
“my palm, feel it. you’re here with me,”
“i’m here…”
“good job. can i ask what happened?”
he’s good at radiating a calm atmosphere when you need it and he’s always ready to help you.
praises and compliments come out of his mouth like a piece of cake, he’s not shy when it comes to showering you with love. the whole party is grossed out by him whenever you’re around. it’s like when the parents are being all lovey-dovey and the children just groan out an ‘eww’ (its mainly mickbell complaining tho lmao)
i believe he’s had one or two intimate relationships before you, but none of them has ever lasted long enough as yours. so he’s had some experience before you.
he’s certainly a tease. have you seen that face? that face screams unfairness and mischief (in bed)
kabru loves your whining whenever he purposely denies you release. one moment his fingers will go fast and wild on your most sensitive spots, and the next he goes painstakingly slow.
“aww, but if i let you cum this early, then what about me?”
he’s a cheeky bastard. the real reason why he draws out your orgasms is because he believes that edging you will result to a much pleasurable and hard orgasm for later (he’s right.)
you will get overstimulated with this man, no question about it. he strives to make you cum at least 5-6 times in one session, which is overkill but he really loves the way your eyes glaze over.
kabru loves your tears and whining, though it kind of makes him guilty so he makes sure to absolutely spoil you after.
his hips are bad for your body. with the way he thrusts into you so precisely. its like he already knows which spot to hit, he rolls into you as he teases and whispers in your ear. he’s actually fucking crazy.
“right here? oh yeah, here?”
he moans in time with his thrusts. he loves watching your face, how your half lidded eyes look so lost yet so present. missionary is definitely his favorite position. loves being all up on your face, he kisses your cheeks, forehead, lips, and jaw while he’s inside you.
nights with him are long and wild, but he can go slow and be more gentler if you asked him to. he lives for your reactions, he thinks its really sweet how you trust him so much with your body.
kabru makes up for all his teasing with aftercare. he pants as he pulls you close, hands on your back and caressing you gently.
“you okay? did i break you?”
“shut up.” you breath out hoarsely.
he chuckles, “i love you too.”
he gives you a massage after that, quietly kissing your hips and stomach as his fingers rub at your skin. whispers small apologies while his hands work on your body. he always checks in on you whenever he hears a whine or groan when he touches a sore spot.
while he is content with just sleeping and cuddling in your own sweat, he’ll take you to the bathroom if you want to be cleaned.
solid lover, tries his best, just don’t ever have sex in his own bedroom (its messy)
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gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months
Note
hiii !! could i possibly request smth where luke is feeling insecure about his scar and reader basically just keeps telling him how beautiful he is?? (bonus points if it’s aphrodite!reader and maybe loser!luke 👀) please and thank you !!
𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈
omg I love this sm.
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Luke was quiet. Quieter than usual. He just smiled and chuckled while at lunch, and Annabeth had noticed it as well. He was off, but you knew he wouldn’t just tell you.
He looked distant as he talked to some campers, while he taught them. You frowned at him as he watched them, his hand went up to his face every so often, finger tracing down his cheek.
"Are you okay?" you asked him worridely when the kids began packing up and he took a sip of water.
"I'm fine. Just tired." He spoke, giving you a small smile. But that didn’t convince you.
You wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead and you waited on Luke.
“You can go ahead, if you want.” He said quietly, waving a hand as he rummaged through his bag.
You just shook your head and continued waiting. He gave you another smile and you smiled back at him, you reached for his hand and put it in yours. You both silently walked back to camp as the sun began to set.
You followed him back to his cabin, passing by the fire dancing and the children laughing. You layed yourself down on his bed, and he threw his bag onto the ground, sitting down next to you, blinking and staring down at the floor.
You furrowed an eyebrow. He glanced at you for a moment and soon his head was on your chest, listening to your heartbeat with his eyes closed as you ran a hand through his curls.
He looked up at you from there, and you just smiled at him.
“Gonna tell me what was bothering you the whole day?”
“It’s stupid.” He mumbled.
“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”
He sighed, he was silent for a moment before he spoke.
“I just… was looking in the mirror, and usually I know I don’t care about how I look but, today it just kept bothering me. The scar.” He said, as he said the words his hands traced over his scar again.
“It’s all his fault. And now I’m gonna have to deal with it the rest of my life. I don’t like how it looks on me. It bothers me. It reminds me every single day.”
You listened to the boy, your heart broke for him. You were there for him when he first got it years ago and you would be here for him now.
“Hey. Look at me.” You mumbled when he turned his head to look away. You softly grabbed his face and turned it to look at you.
“You are the most beautiful boy I’ve laid my eyes on. Your scar only makes you better.” You traces your thumb over the scar as you said it, his eyes were glossy with tear.
“I think it makes you look badass, actually.” He laughed quietly and you smiled.
“Nothing is wrong with you. At all. You are the most perfect boy I’ve seen in my entire life. So don’t you dare think otherwise, I’ll slap some sense into you.”
He smiled and you leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. He smiled as you pulled away.
“I love you.” He says as he lays back down onto your stomach, hands at both your sides.
You just ran your hand through his curls again, eyes fluttering shut as you felt more comfortable than you had in your whole life.
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libraryofloveletters · 4 months
Text
With Sweet Comes Sour
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Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader 
Warnings: charles just wanted a peaceful valentines, so much drama and so many emotions, lots of tears, assumption of cheating (no actual cheating), weird ass exes, all the kids are in here, a few insulting terms, alcohol and the consumption of, being drunk, slight explicit content, bar brawls, blood and bruises, google translated french.
Word Count: 3.6k
Author’s Note: okay here's another piece to the series, sorry it took me forever to get this out but I didn't have any ideas until now lol. happy early valentines!
Daddy & Me + Three Masterlist 
--
The rollers stacked on her vanity as you undo the curls in her hair. Eloise was doing the final touches on her makeup as it was her first Valentines with her boyfriend, Anthony. They're going for the full cliché; movie and dinner and a stroll by the pier when they are done.
This is the first Valentine in 17 years that you and your husband have the house to yourselves. You were going to make the most of it, spending some quality alone time without your children pestering you.
You leave her to finish getting ready before going down to check on your husband. You hear the doorbell ring, and you figure it was Anthony here to pick her up so you let the boy in. Eloise comes downstairs in the meantime and you could hear her speaking to her father.
"How do I look?" She asks him; her baby pink dress sat above her knees.
The man smiles, twirling a curl that sat on her shoulder. "Très belle, ma chérie." (very beautiful, my darling.) You smiled as you watched the interaction, Anthony steps past you towards his girlfriend. He had brought her chocolates and flowers.
She kisses his cheek; young love.
He had another bouquet of flowers, Eloise sets her gifts down in the kitchen as Anthony walks to you. "For you," he hands you the roses, you smile at him.
"Thank you, sweetheart. That's very thoughtful of you," you toss a glance at your husband who definitely forgot to get you flowers.
Eloise returns a moment later, linking arms with her boyfriend. "You two be safe," Charles tells them. Anthony nods, "I'll have her back before midnight."
"Just come home safe, you're both old enough to be responsible." You say, walking them to the front door and sending them off with a wave. Your husband comes up behind you the moment the door shuts, hugging you from behind before he carries you to the couch.
"So pretty lady, what are we going to do with our empty house?" He asks, you could practically hear the mischief in his voice.
"I'm gonna order takeout and drink a whole bottle of wine," you nudged him off of you, making him groan.
Charles was hoping he'd 'get some' so to speak, seeing that the house was in fact empty and would be for hours. Eloise and Anthony wouldn't be back until after midnight, Sofia and Christopher had gone up to Marseille for the night to spend time together and Gabriel and Oliver were at some club with Georgina and Adrian for the night, so you weren't expecting anyone back anytime soon.
"This is our first valentines together, alone, in a long time," Charles tells you, watching as you sit next to him with two glasses of wine.
"I know," you tapped your glass to his gently before taking a sip.
"It's odd," he whispers into your shoulder, kissing your skin softly. You nod, "but nice. Now hurry up and pick a place, I'm starving."
"Always so charming, my love." He rolls his eyes, earning a playful nudge as he reaches for his phone. You two settled on the Italian place that Charles liked.
He put on some random movie that the two of you had started watching a few days ago and never finished. You find yourself cuddled in your husband's side, his arm wrapped around you as you two tried to figure out what was happening where you left off. Eventually, Charles gives up on the movie and focuses his attention elsewhere.
Your husband pulls you onto his lap, his hands on your hips. "What do you want?" You asked him, your own hands on his shoulders, one sliding up to the nape of his neck; his hair had been growing out, all fuzzy and tickling his skin.
"I can't give my wife some love?" He whispers into your skin, lips peppering kissing along your neck as he pulls you into him. He reached your lips, you mumbled a no before kissing him.
His hands slip under your shirt, yours tangled in his hair; you make a mental note to call your mother in law to book him a haircut.
It's like you're teenagers again, all over each other with no room to breathe.
Hands make quick work of Charles's shirt, tossing it behind you somewhere as he goes to flip the two of you over, pinning you under him just as the doorbell rings.
You can't help the giggle when your husband groans, getting up to get the door as he assumed it was the delivery man with the food.
Except he's met with an annoyed Christopher, who just rolled his eyes when he saw his father shirtless and his mother on the couch. He pushes past Charles and goes to the kitchen.
"Chris?" You called after him, seeing Sofia walk in moments later on the verge of tears and you get up, tossing Charles's shirt to him.
The brunette follows her boyfriend, not saying anything until she reaches the kitchen. There's a screaming match, the two of them switching from English to Italian and then a mix of both. Something about a restaurant and a guy or something along those lines. Sofia's holding onto Christopher's arm and he gently pulled away, walking out the front door and slamming the door shut. Charles follows behind him, probably talking him down from doing something stupid.
These damn Leclerc's and their drama.
Getting up, you walk over to Sofia and sit with her in the kitchen. "Is everything okay? We weren't expecting you two back tonight, actually, we weren't expecting you back for the entire weekend."
The girl sniffles, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I hate him."
"Me too," you nodded, rubbing her back. "What did he do this time?"
"It wasn't even him, well I mean, it was but it was me. Actually, well.. it's complicated." She says and you raise an eyebrow, unsure as to what she meant. She speaks, explaining herself. "I bumped into an old friend, and when I say old friend, I mean an old friend. I haven't seen him in like, maybe, six years because he moved from Madrid to London. He just happened to be in Marseille with his girlfriend for Valentine's Day as well."
"Okay... I'm still waiting for what was so bad about that."
"I was waiting for Christopher to get out of the bathroom when my friend noticed me and tapped me on the shoulder. We exchanged hello and exchanged pleasantries, then he kissed my cheek on the way out. Christopher being Christopher, automatically assumes the worst."
You made a face, "so Chris got mad because.. he kissed you on the cheek? Is he dumb?"
"Exactly," she grumbled and you handed her a tissue to clean up her face. "Honestly, that's how Spanish men are, though. They're always affectionate, your father is the same way. I'm certain your friend didn't mean it in the way Christopher took it."
"Even if he did, I didn't take it that way. He has a girlfriend, and regardless, I love Christopher and I would never do that to him."
"I know you wouldn't." You gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Why don't you get something to drink? I'll go see what's going on with them outside hm?" You leave her be for the moment, letting her settle her emotions.
Charles is listening to Christopher ramble, the younger Leclerc spiralling and getting himself caught up in some nonsense lie that his brain made up.
"Christopher," you call for him, stopping him from speaking. He looks at you. "What?"
"You need to apologize to her."
He makes a face, confused as to why you're telling him to apologize when he clearly did nothing wrong, or so he thinks.
"Sofia is a sweet girl, who has no control over the actions of others, and who loves you very much despite your nonsense and your dramatic flare. So you get your ass inside and apologize to your girlfriend for ruining Valentine's day. Either you drive back to Marseille or you figure out something here, because you aren't gonna ruin today for her."
"He kissed her!" He says, flinging his arms in the air. Charles's eyes widened, "what?"
It seems Christopher had left out that detail.
"On the cheek," you clarify, "and so what if he did? You kiss Georgina on the cheek all the time and Sofia doesn't get upset. This guy was just some friend of hers, you need to get over your shit and put your ego to the side because if you don't, you'll lose her."
Christopher huffed, taking in his mother's words before turning and heading inside. You and Charles followed a moment later, hearing bits and pieces of their conversation in the kitchen but eventually, they came into the living room, holding hands.
"Dad," Christopher calls for his father, the man looks over at his son. "Can you get us a hotel room? I tried to get one but everyone says they're booked."
"I can try but why would it be different for me?" He asks, clearly confused and as clueless as the day you met him. "Because you're the prince of Monaco, Charles. Now start calling." You tell your husband, getting up to answer the door - the takeout had finally arrived.
Charles tried his best to get a hotel room for the kids, and even pulled his prince of Monaco card but despite it all, it was Valentine's Day and everywhere was booked.
Sofia decided that she wanted ice cream and Christopher, doing anything to make it up to her, agreed - ignoring the fact that he hated ice cream just for tonight. You sent them off with a wave before returning to your husband on the couch. Charles was refilling your wine glass as you took the food out of the bag.
You two had barely gotten 5 minutes into eating when the door opened and in comes Eloise with her mascara running down her face. She ran straight to her father's arms, collapsing into him.
Anthony follows behind her, the front door slamming shut as he rambles out something in French. "Ce n'est pas à quoi ça ressemblait! Ellie, tu paniques pour rien!" (This is not what it looked like! Ellie, you're freaking out for nothing!)
Eloise had returned home on Valentine's, in tears and was now holding onto her father as if he was going to disappear. The look you saw in Charles' eyes was one you thought was only held for Ferrari and all their torment but it was now directed to his best friend's son, - his baby girl's - his daughter's boyfriend.
"What's going on?" You handed Eloise a tissue, moving to sit on the arm rest of the couch, making yourself the middleman between Charles and Anthony.
The anger on your husband's face made you giggle internally, you could never take him seriously when he was upset - but you understood it. He didn't like to see his kids hurt, especially not his baby girl.
Anthony sighed, passing a hand through his dirty blonde hair; fluffy and flat, much like his father's. "My stupid ex girlfriend saw us while we were at the pier. She came to say hello and she was way too friendly with me - all over me, kissing my cheek, her hand on my chest, all in my face." He groaned, clearly disgusted by this girl.
"Why would you let her do that when you know you have a girlfriend?" Charles asks him, you could hear the roughness in his tone. Your hand gently moves to his shoulder, rubbing it softly.
You spoke next; "did she know you had a girlfriend?"
He nods, "Eloise was taking a picture of something so she was a few feet away and I guess she took it the wrong way when she saw her all over me. I was trying to get her to leave me alone but god, she's like a fucking pest - sorry," he makes a face when he realizes he swore. You wave him off before he continues. "Ellie took it the wrong way, which I understand but she won't hear me out, she thinks I'm cheating on her."
"Are you cheating on her?" Charles asks him.
"No!" You and Anthony answer at the same time; the boy trying to defend himself and you couldn't believe your husband would even ask that.
Eloise finally sits up, her father wiping her cheeks clean. Her blue eyes rimmed with red and slightly puffy from the tears and she turns to Anthony. "Va-t'en, je ne veux pas de toi ici." (go away, I don't want you here.) She tells him, voice trembling.
"Je ne pars pas, Éloïse." (I'm not leaving, Eloise.)
"Ok, je le ferai alors." (okay, i will then.) The girl gets up, walking the other way around the living room and heads up the stairs to what you could only assume was her room. Charles was just as wrapped around her finger as he was when she was born, and followed her to make sure she was alright.
These damn Leclerc's and their drama.
You rolled your eyes at your daughter's dramatics.
Yes, she was upset but Anthony had explained the whole situation in front of you, her and her father. While Anthony might look exactly like his man whore of a father, he was everything like his mother; a sweet, kind and fiercely loyal woman.
It broke your heart to see her upset but it also hurt you to see Anthony in the same state. You get up, hugging the boy as he sniffles, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.
"She just needs some time to cool off, she's dramatic like her father." You tell him, trying to lighten the mood. You walk him to the kitchen, getting him some water.
He sat in the breakfast nook. "I swear I didn't even see her until she walked over, otherwise I would have walked the other way."
"I know babe, is this the same girl that stalked you after you broke up?"
"Yeah!" He groans, sipping his water. "She's so - ugh." He says, making you laugh. You kiss the top of his head, leaving him there for the time being as you put away what was supposed to be dinner. The food sat on the coffee table, cold and unattended.
The door opens again and you groan, praying it's not another issue but it wasn't; Sofia and Chris come stumbling in, clearly having consumed something other than ice cream.
"Mama!!" Chris grins, untangling his fingers from Sofia's as he walks over to you, kissing your cheek multiple times like he did when he was little - slobbering on your cheek as he did then too.
You laughed, smelling the booze on him. Steadying him, you held his waist. "Hi baby, you okay?"
"Soooo good," he tells you, wobbling over to Sofia, who was also drunk but more steady than your son. You watch as they go upstairs, the sound of the door opening and closing before you walk back to the kitchen.
Anthony still sat in the breakfast nook. "You want something to eat? Something else to drink?" You asked him, wiping your wet cheek off with a tissue.
It takes him a moment to respond. "You know when we were little and you'd cut the apples and make the little peanut butter sandwiches with the slices?" He asks and you nod.
"Want some?" You were already grabbing the apple, peanut butter and honey. Anthony smiles, nodding like he was a kid again.
You washed and cut the apples, spreading the peanut butter and honey on them, sandwiching them together and handing the plate to him. "Thank you," he says, sinking into his seat as he takes a bite of the familiar taste from his childhood.
"Mhm hm," you smiled, hearing the footsteps from behind you. Charles was coming down, kissing your temple as he picked up an extra piece of apple you had on the cutting board.
"Ellie just needs some time." He says, staring daggers at Anthony; if looks could kill.
You huffed, smacking the back of your husband's head. "Stop it, he feels bad enough as it is."
Another set of footsteps come from the hallway and you assume it's Christopher looking for something but then the sound of the front door slamming shut caught your attention. This house was like a free for all, everyone coming and going as they pleased - you made sure to make a mental note to see who had keys to this place.
In came Gabriel who was being held by his boyfriend, Oliver. The two of them were covered in blood and Gabriel had cuts and bruises all over his face.
"What the fuck? What happened?" You say, Charles rushing over to help Oliver sit Gabriel down on a chair.
"He's so fricking hot headed," Oliver says, holding his boyfriend up straight.
It was clear that Gabriel was beyond pissing drunk, the boy swaying unless someone was holding him. Anthony takes over for Oliver, holding Gabriel up as Oliver goes to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.
"What happened?" Charles asks, passing you the cloth as you wiped the blood off your son's face. "I have no clue," you tell him, being extra careful not to hurt him; not like Gabriel would feel it anyways.
Oliver comes back a moment later, setting the kit on the counter and taking back his spot next to Gabriel.
"Ellie's asking for you, man." He tells Anthony, who glances at Charles before quietly making his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Before you could even ask, Oliver starts explaining the events of the night. "We met up with Georgina and Adrian at the club. We were all a little tipsy, and Georgina was trying to get a drink at the bar. Some guy came up behind her and he was getting all handsy, trying to touch her and Adrian was in the bathroom so he didn't see it happen, but Gabriel did and he stepped in." Oliver sighs, brushing his boyfriend's hair from his face.
"Basically, Gabriel told the guy to fuck off and said if he touched Georgina again that he would break his face. The guy took that as a sign to leave and once Adrian came back, the two of them decided that they were going to go get something to eat and just spend the rest of the night at home. But Gabriel being Gabriel, our night couldn't just end there of course."
You carefully patched up Gabriel, wiping his cuts clean and putting antibacterial ointment on what needed it , making sure he didn't need stitches or anything.
"The guy came back again a few minutes later. He was super drunk, as was Gabriel and you know how Gabe can be. They started fighting and next thing you know, they're beating the shit out of each other in the middle of the fucking club."
Oliver tells you the story, causing you to roll your eyes at your son's behaviour. You're proud of him for standing up for his friend but must he always get into a fight for stupid reasons?
"I tried to stop him but I forget how strong Gabriel is sometimes." He huffed and you looked at him, seeing the blood on him. "Are you okay?" You asked, moving over to check him.
"I'm fine," Oliver smiles. "It's Gabe's." He says, gesturing to the blood on his shirt.
Charles was making up the guest room downstairs while you patched Gabriel up. In his drunken state, you all knew he wouldn't be making it up the stairs. Your husband comes back to help Oliver get Gabriel into bed and you threw out the bloody mess that had developed on the counter.
You put the plates in the sink, tossing the garbage out and headed up to check on your oldest and youngest.
There were noises coming from Christoper's room and you figured it best not to investigate further. Eloise's door was open, you knock softly and peek in when you don't get an answer. Her head resting on Anthony's chest, the two of them cuddled up and fast asleep. Switching off the light, you pulled the door shut quietly and made your way back downstairs.
As you reach the bottom step, Charles appears from around the corner. He hugs you, squeezing you tightly.
"What?" you asked him, cupping his jaw.
"Our kids are insane," he tells you, sighing. You can't help the laugh, leaning down to kiss your husband. "Those are your genes."
Charles rolls his eyes and takes your hand, pulling you behind him.
"Where are we going?" You asked, following him. He leads you to the car, opening the door for you to get in before getting in himself. It was a short drive and you two ended up on the pier, Charles parks the car and looks over at you.
"What?" You asked him again.
"Just wanted some alone time with my wife," he whispers, leaning over to kiss you. "I can't have that?"
"No," you shook your head, leaning in your seat to reach him. Charles smiles against your lips, as you melted into each other, lost in the moment.
With a soft smile and a lingering touch, you reluctantly pulled away with your cheeks as red as the first night he kissed you. "What was that for?"
"Nothing," he says, smiling. "Happy Valentine's Day babe."
"Happy Valentine's Day, my love."
--
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**if you were previously tagged in a daddy & me + three piece and you aren't no, that means your tag wasn't working or it was sent incorrectly to me. please message me and I will fix it!
573 notes · View notes
notjustjavierpena · 4 months
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Mouthful
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: Made with the help from my loveliest @strang3lov3 with a talk about men conking out after cumming and how Hubby Javier still hasn’t gotten his dick sucked. So to all the girlies who want to give your fictional husband a blowjob, this one is for you.
Summary: Javier is starting to come down with the flu but he just simply won’t lie down to have some rest. You have a trick that never fails.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, sickfic, Inés is a menace, Javier is a stubborn man, ❤️ JAVIER HAS A DAD BOD!!!!!!! ❤️, blowjob, deep-throating, mouth-fucking, praise, dirty talk, cum-swallowing,
Word count: 2.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52856839
Mouthful
You hear the clink of plates being lifted out of the dishwasher, the sound of Sebastian crying, stuttering sobs as he is bounced, and Inés going on about something that happened in preschool. Javier is barely listening, replying with half-sentences that seem to make his daughter more frustrated with her father not paying attention and eventually leading to her talking louder. 
The idea of what will meet you in the kitchen is enough to make you want to flee to the bedroom, enough to make you want to pretend that you haven’t heard them during an extended nap. However, you could never bring yourself to let Javier go through the hell of late afternoons with children alone.
“Look who’s up,” he says with a desperate smile as you enter the room, twisting his whole body to make his crying son spot his mother. As soon as Sebastian’s eyes gaze upon you, his wails die down and they stop completely the moment you take him from Javier’s arms. 
“Mom! Guess what happened today at school,” Inés interrupts just as you are about to say something. She speaks loudly, and you automatically reach up to cover Sebastian’s ear that isn’t pressed into your shoulder. 
“Inés, indoor voices,” Javier finally manages to say, reaching up to rub his temples, “Shhh…”
“Sorry,” she makes a face, not completely convinced. 
“What happened at school?” You ask but instead of looking at her, you find yourself staring at your husband who looks like absolute hell, glassy eyes and exhaustion radiating from him. Inés giggles as she tells a joke that isn’t really a joke, too lost in her story to notice that you aren’t really listening. 
Javier places a hand on the kitchen table, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His shirt is crumpled, his eyes have dark circles and you don’t actually think that he has even noticed that he is sniffling every other moment. He sighs deeply, breathing mostly through his mouth as he does it, and then goes back to emptying the dishwasher.
“Are you okay, honey?” You ask him, stopping midway to shush Inés who doesn’t look pleased, “You look under the weather. Are you feeling okay?” 
There’s an almost offended nature in Javier’s reply. He doesn’t stop what he is doing, sorting through the cutlery, “What? No, yeah. Estoy bien, mi amor (I’m fine, my love). Just need to get this done.”
“And then what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 
“And then I’ll get started on dinner,” he tells you with a tired smile that isn’t very convincing. 
“You look like… m i e r d a (shit), and you probably feel it too. I was sick last week,” you spell out the dirty word, using the Spanish word because the English is short enough to make Inés guess what you are saying. 
“Mom,” Inés predictably complains. 
“I’m fine. I just need 20 minutes where no one comes near me,” he says with exasperation. He finishes up the bottom drawer of the dishwasher and goes to pull out the top one. You find yourself laying a hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.
“Javi,” you say softly. 
“What?” He grumbles.
“I can finish up here. I’ll cook dinner,” you tread lightly, knowing that he hates being babied by you. Him not pulling his weight is a common fight that the two of you have had, and he probably feels on edge when you ask him not to help out with the kids. 
“I can do it,” he snaps but suddenly sneezes, and it ends up making his nose prickle enough to cause his eyes to water. 
“Go do something else, laundry maybe. I’ll do this,” you say a little more firmly, strategically sending him to your bedroom to make him spot your bed and have some well-earned rest, “It’s really not a problem, and you know I hate doing laundry anyway.”
“Fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender. 
“I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice as he leaves the kitchen, “Go have your 20 minutes.”
Inés looks longingly after her father but you manage to distract her with a snack before she runs after him. You run your free hand over her hair as she eats a peanut butter sandwich, Sebastian cooing happily on your hip as he has been allowed to chew on a banana.
“Do you want to watch cartoons before dinner?” You ask, “Give Mommy some time to get things done in the kitchen, and then I can hear all about school while we eat?”
“Fine,” she parrots her dad, holding up her hands as well and running off to the living room. You follow her, setting Sebastian down in his playpen and turning on the baby monitor. Then you turn on the TV, adjust the volume, and let Inés busy herself by singing along to her favorite theme song. 
You finish emptying the dishwasher, cut vegetables, and throw them into the slow cooker with other ingredients, and after you check on both of your kids, you realize there’s some spare time before you have to pick Lucas up from his play date. 
You decide to go upstairs to do another round of laundry, but when you cannot find the laundry basket, you go to your bedroom. Javier must have taken it when folding clothes. 
“Jesus, why are you not resting? I sent you here so you’d eventually nap,” you groan as you enter the bedroom and see Javier putting his shirts on hangers. 
“I told you I’m fine,” he seems even more sick at this point, nose slightly congested and causing him to speak nasally, “I can do this.”
You walk up to him to yank a clothing hanger out of his hands and throw it onto the floor, receiving a glare in response. Javier doesn’t look pleased with your behavior, but you don’t find his stubborn attitude charming either. 
“Javier F. Peña,” you tut, “Just go lie down and trust that your wife has everything under control. It’s what a lot of husbands do, you know.”
“Well, wife, I don’t need your permission to do housework,” he tries to push past you but you catch him in a disarming embrace, giggling as he tries bending down to pick you up so he can move you out of his way. You avoid his efforts, catching him by the wrists when he straightens once more, and push him back towards the bed. 
“You need rest, husband,” you shove him when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lets himself fall down into the mattress, bouncing slightly as it connects with his back. 
“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child,” he groans dramatically. 
“Then stop acting like one,” you pull the baby monitor out of your pocket and place it on the nightstand. When Javier tries to sit up again, you snap your fingers and point at him, “Nuh-uh, lie down.” 
It makes you realize that you need to use alternative methods to get him to obey; he simply won’t do as he has been told, and if anyone is ever in doubt about where Inés gets her stubbornness from, you’ll simply glance over at her father to answer the question. 
“What if I treat you to something special?” You ask with a little smirk, moving to the end of the bed so you can proceed to crawl onto him. You sit on his legs, “Think that’ll make you relax?”
You already know the answer to that question. He looks ready to conk out. 
“I’m actually fine, I don’t need—“
“I know, Javi,” you reply. Your fingers find his crumpled shirt and you pull it out of his jeans, shoving it up over his stomach so you can access his belt, watching your husband twitch underneath you at the sound of the buckle clinking as you undo it. 
He lifts his head to watch as you tug down his jeans and underwear, “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping after this. I have to—“
“I know, Javi,” you repeat, bending down to nuzzle your nose against his soft stomach. His cock lays flaccid against his thigh, but you pull it out from underneath the waistband of his briefs to lay it against his tummy so you can skim your palm up and down the shaft. His soft cock slowly comes alive underneath your touch, and soon you can wrap your fist around him to stroke him till he stands completely erect. 
Below you, Javier groans when you press a kiss to his belly, “And I have to get the laundry done.” 
“Whatever you say, baby, let me take care of you and I’ll let you do as much laundry as you want,” you hum against his skin, relishing in his warmth and his so-called dad-body - the last year has blessed you with Javier getting a little softer to the touch - that you nuzzle up to at every opportunity you get. 
Javier isn’t a fan of himself growing soft around the middle but you savor it every time you get to see that bit of pudge strain against his usual jeans (which he refuses to buy in a bigger size). If you thought he was gorgeous when his muscles were toned and his body looked younger, you had not been prepared for how good he looks now that he is older, rounder, and getting comfortable. His arms are still deliciously strong; an overwhelmingly sexy result of still carrying Inés around everywhere, picking her up from the ground if she has a tantrum at the grocery store. 
“God, you’re so sexy,” you pinch his stomach to earn a little noise. Javier says your name in disapproval but you just look up at him with a smile, grabbing more of his pudge before biting into it and kissing it afterward, “Let your wife have her fun.”
Javier is just about to say something - you don’t know whether it is about his body, the lack of a blowjob, or laundry once more - but you know it’s more complaining and so you cut him off by running the flat of your tongue from base to tip of his cock. He tastes like salt. If you had the time, you would not finish until his scent and taste were everywhere on you. In your clothes, etched into your skin, and on your tongue. 
“Oh shi—“ he gasps, resting the back of his head on the mattress once more. He breathes deeply in through his mouth, nose still stuffed, and stares at the ceiling as you work your tongue up and down his shaft only to follow the wet trail with your nose.
When you reach his cockhead a third time, you suckle on the very tip to rid him of the pearl of precome that has accumulated at the slit and is threatening to slide down (you want to treat yourself to it before it does). Above you, Javier moans at feeling your mouth, not your tongue, properly for the first time. 
“Fucking hell, baby, gotta admit that I didn’t see this coming,” he half-chuckles, half-groans.
“Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for a moment. You are stubborn, you know,” you pull back to talk, look up at him, and nuzzle needily at his cock. He looks down at you but you simply smile, “I looove you for that though, not annoying at all.”
You follow your little snarky remark up with a press of your lips to the underside of his shaft, using a hot open-mouthed kiss to cut off whatever offense he might take from your teasing. He doesn’t even seem to register it after feeling your mouth on himself again. 
Then you let saliva gather in your mouth before spitting directly onto the head, using your hand to smear it down his length by stroking him a few times. You lean over him and bring your mouth down over his girth, no teasing or anything, until the thick head hits the back of your mouth. 
“Fuuuck, and then up again,” he groans, a strong hand reaching for whatever he can grab of you. His fingers curl around your shoulder, moving inwards until they dig into the back of your neck. Slowly, you drag your lips all the way off of him again. 
Javier makes a sound when you pull off but it quickly turns into a whimper as you let more saliva drip down. You smear this too, swirling your sinful tongue around the tip and occasionally licking like were you eating a popsicle on a summer’s day. 
You can feel him pulse against your lips, so you show mercy and let him into your mouth again. He is hot and heavy on your tongue and a moaning mess above you, nails starting to dig into your skin. 
You start bobbing your head, hand on the base of Javier’s cock to hold his generous size in place. When he bumps against your throat for the first time and thus makes you gag the first time, he lets out a sound that you can never get enough of and it causes your cunt to throb between your legs. 
“Who would think that a pretty girl sucks cock like that? Oh, fuck… I love you, just like that—” he talks in a way that makes you think he might not even be aware of what he is saying but is simply letting his mouth run, “Suck that cock, baby. Good fucking girl, married the right one, didn’t I?”
You hum in reply and he growls at the vibrations of your voice. The pride you feel is indescribable, and so you seek out his approval once again by moaning as you taste him. Even if it results in your eyelashes dampening from Javier pushing his hips upwards, you lean further down and force yourself to relax your throat. 
He slides into the tight space at the back of your throat and his hand flies to the top of your head. He fists your hair desperately when you gulp around him and make your throat spasm, tugging at your follicles to the point where tears slide down your face. Soon, they also mix with the spit coating his cock.
You swallow around him again. Javier holds your head with both hands now, “Can I - Christ - can I fuck this gorgeous mouth? Por favor (please), baby.”
Even if it is hurting a little, you nod the best you can because Javier’s groan as he starts thrusting his hips upward is worth any ache in your body. Your thighs flutter, your clit pulses. 
Both his hands gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He uses it to move your head as he pleases, makes you bob on his dick until you gag wetly with every other thrust of his hips. Every time he bucks his hips, his thigh muscles flex and your nose buries itself in his happy trail. 
“You gonna take it?” He rasps, chest heaving. He is nearly there, muscles in his whole body twitching as he slowly loses control over himself when pleasure is so close. The next thrusts are maddening and you can’t blink any tears away even if you tried, “Fuck, swallow, baby. Take my come.”
You look up at him through your wet lashes and hum a mhm, confirming. Yes, yes, yes, give it to me.
You know he is peaking when his breath stops. He holds it during the last thrusts, finally letting out a loud moan as he finishes and sucks in a deep breath afterward. 
His cock spurts in the next moment. You can feel it hit the back of your sore throat, warm and salty, in several pulses and automatically, you swallow hungrily around his girth. The action makes him groan weakly and his hips stutter until he finally needs to let go of you. His arms lie flat along his side.
“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighs contentedly when you pull off, “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything, Daddy,” you tease, and then you treat the sensitive head of his cock to a few innocent kitten-licks, essentially cleaning him up until he softens. 
He whimpers when it becomes too much, and so you pull off to kiss him along his stomach. You can hear his breathing changing, turning into something less erratic. 
“You okay?” You eventually ask but receive no reply. You look up. 
As predicted, Javier snores. You smile to yourself as you push yourself away from him, careful not to wake him up as you pull his briefs and jeans up again, leaving the latter unbuttoned. 
“Javier Peña, the most stubborn man on the planet has a weakness,” you whisper and shake your head with a fond smile. 
You grab the baby monitor from the nightstand and leave him to sleep, knowing he’ll wake up feeling a lot more sick and, hopefully, a lot more cooperative. You bring him a glass of water and some Tylenol to wake up to, write a note for him about how much you adore him, and that you’ll take care of everything. He needs it. 
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