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halfmoth-halfman · 2 years

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the little things

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Medic!Reader Synopsis: Five times Soap questions the relationship between Ghost and the 141's Medic, and the one time he gets an answer. Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: mentions of blood, mild swearing Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters.

part two. part three. part four.

The first time is purely by accident.

It’s not like he’s trying to eavesdrop; it isn’t his fault the infirmary doors were left wide open, and it doesn’t seem like you and Ghost are trying to be quiet. Price called everyone for a meeting in twenty and, since the infirmary’s on the way, Soap figures he’d swing by and grab you. He’s walking towards the doors, paying attention to nothing in particular, when your unmistakable laugh echoes into the hallway. Soap stumbles slightly, caught off guard by the sudden noise.

Someone’s enjoying themselves, he thinks. He’s almost six steps from the door when you laugh again, this time followed by the deep timbre of a familiar voice that makes Soap stop in his tracks.

Price was the one who had brought you onto the team, but it was supposedly Ghost who had recommended you. “Only medic I ever met who actually knew what they were doing,” he had said. Apparently the two of you had previously worked on multiple missions together, and that was made obvious by the way you two worked flawlessly around each other with an efficiency that could only have been cultivated through a deep trust and years of teamwork.

Soap slowly approaches, all his stealth training coming to the forefront as he leans next to the door and focuses in on what you’re saying.

“It’ll only take a day, two tops. I promise.” Soap can hear the smile in your voice. Glancing at the glass panes of the doors, he can just make out your reflection. You’re standing beside an empty bed, behind an overbed table that’s covered in papers, leaning on your elbows to smile widely up at Ghost as he stands against the wall on the opposite side of the bed looking wholly unimpressed.

“You want me to spend an entire day sitting in the corner and watching you give everyone on base flu shots?”

“No, I’m asking if you’ll sit in the corner and look intimidating while I give everyone on base flu shots. The “look intimidating” part’s important,” you speak matter-of-factly.

“I’ve seen you amputate a man’s leg at the knee mid-combat. You’re telling me you can’t handle a few shots by yourself?”

Soap makes a note to ask about that story later.

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you. It’s everyone else that’s the problem here.” Ghost blinks at you, seemingly not believing you. “I get it, you’re all big, tough guys who face death every day-” Soap sinks his teeth into his cheek to fight back a laugh as you try to lower your voice in a very poor imitation of Ghost, “-but the way some of these guys act, you’d think I was coming at them with some kind of medieval torture device. I just think-” “That’d be a first.”

“-If I had someone that everyone respects, and is a little bit afraid of, sitting nearby then they’d stop with the whining and I can get my job done faster.”

There’s a long pause as you and Ghost stand locked into a staring contest. Soap swears that, for a moment, something like amusement crosses Ghost’s eyes.

“You think people are only a little afraid of me?” Ghost asks, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. You let out a loud, exaggerated scoff, throwing your hands up.

“Fine! Go lurk in a dark corner and scare children, or whatever it is you do, instead of helping me. Just don’t be surprised if I’m suddenly out of painkillers the next time you get shot.” You’re facing away from him, pouting like a child with your arms crossed over your chest. Both Soap and Ghost know you don’t mean it, your flawless reputation is too important to you, but Ghost sighs and nods anyways.

“Just tell me what days-” Ghost is barely done talking when you’re spinning around, nearly knocking the table over.

“Really?”

“Whatever will get you to stop being a brat.” Like water off a duck’s back, the insult runs right off of you as you clap your hands together. “Now, come on. Don’t want to be late to Price’s meeting.” Ghost pushes himself off the wall as you shuffle your scattered papers into organized piles to look through later. Soap leans back, taking a few quiet steps back from the door as you and Ghost start to leave the infirmary.

“Hold on, one sec.” Soap pauses as he hears your hurried footsteps, looking back to your reflection in the glass. Eyes widening, his jaw drops as he watches Ghost let you grab his arm and push yourself up onto your toes to place a quick kiss to the cheekbone of the larger man’s plated skull mask. “Thank you,” you speak softly, taking a couple small steps back.

Soap doesn’t have time to process as you and Ghost step out of the infirmary, immediately spotting him as he stands dumbly in the hallway.

“Hey Soap! You heading to Price’s office, too?” Soap blinks, shaking off the shock and giving you a quick nod.

“Yeah, I was just about to come get the two of you.”

“Let’s go, then,” Ghost says, turning and walking away without waiting for you or Soap. You fall in step behind him almost instantly, waving Soap over. Soap glances between the two of you as he follows. He knew the two of you weren’t strangers. He’d even speculated you might’ve been friends, but he’d never imagined you might’ve been something more. He wants to know more, but also gets the sneaking suspicion that this isn’t something he should be prying into. Ghost has always been a private man.

Either way, he has no time to think on it further as the three of you enter Price’s office.

The second time, he’s in far too much pain and far too tired to really remember if it actually happened.

Despite everything, the mission had been a success, though the cost had almost been too much. Your team of seven has two unconscious, three severely injured, and the rest sporting a variety of bullet grazes and knife wounds. None dead, thanks to your quick thinking and efficient work. It’s late and the team’s holed up in an old safehouse overnight waiting for evac. Soap is sat up against the far wall, watching you with drooping eyes as you flit around the safehouse, tending to everyone’s wounds. He had been fortunate enough to only have a few minor wounds, but the adrenaline of the fight is fading fast and the comedown is hitting hard.

Ghost is on watch and is the last person you check on, at his own insistence and much to your annoyance. He bats you away from any of the minor cuts and bruises, so you pull up a chair next to his and focus on the deep gash running across his right forearm. Through his sleep-hazed gaze, Soap watches you expertly stitch Ghost’s arm. He can hear the two of you mumbling to each other, but doesn’t have the energy to try and decipher your words. Once you’ve finished wrapping Ghost’s arm, you glance around at the others.

You must assume everyone is asleep by the way you deflate, running a tired hand down your face and stretching your neck with a grimace. You scoot your chair closer to Ghost’s, shutting your eyes and letting your head fall against his armored shoulder. To Soap’s surprise and not to yours, Ghost makes no move to push you away, instead shifting so your head’s not at such an awkward angle and settling into his own chair. Soap can feel his curiosity creeping up, but sleep wins out in the end and he passes out not long after.

When he wakes, Ghost is in the same spot, but you’re curled up in a beaten up arm chair across the room still asleep.

When evac finally arrives, everyone is awake, and you and Ghost hardly acknowledge each other as he briefs Price over comms and you help load wounded into the helicopter.

The third time, he’s sneaking through the rain and blood-soaked streets of Las Almas, Ghost guiding him through his ear as he makes his way to the church.

He knows he should’ve seen it coming, but Graves’s betrayal stings nonetheless. Soap pushes the anger down, instead focusing on reaching the rendezvous point so they can escape and rescue Alejandro. The banter helps, but there’s an edge to Ghost’s voice that Soap understands as worry.

They haven’t heard from you since you all were separated.

They both know you can handle yourself, and worrying about it won’t help, so they talk and sort through their situation: what supplies Soap can pick up, how bad tequila tastes, the tactical uses for dog piss. Everything is as fine as it can be while on the run from deadly mercenaries. Until-

“The mask. Take it off.”

“Show my face?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“Can confirm.” Soap nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden sound of your voice.

“Holy hell, where have you been?”

“Aw, you worried about me, Soap?” The teasing tells him you’re not in too much danger, or are at least somewhere you feel safe, but something in your voice feels…off.

“What’s your status?” Ghost cuts in.

“Managed to get out of the village,” you groan through a deep exhale, and give a haggard laugh, “can’t say the same for the Shadows.”

Ghost gives a quiet hum of praise, but all Soap can hear is the strain in your winded voice. “You alright, Doc? You sound-”

“Dings and scrapes, Soap. I’ll be fine. Meet up with you later.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, “just focus on getting to the church.”

“Right,” Soap mutters. He returns his focus back to the mission at hand, rummaging through the drawers in front of him for rope he can wrap around his extra fan blade.

It hits him just as he spots the reflective shine of a shard of glass on the floor. Can confirm, is what you’d said. Did that mean-

“The Doc’s seen you without the mask.” It comes out as more of a statement than a question.

“Let’s worry about you, Sergeant.”

The fourth time, he lands hard on his feet in the pitch black of Alejandro’s safehouse. Soap has his back turned as Ghost climbs in the window behind him. Luckily for him, as Ghost sees the laser sight aiming right for Soap’s back.

“Don’t move!” Ghost calls out, before launching a knife into the support beam across the room. Soap whirls around to shine his light at the beam just as someone calls out from behind it.

“¿Quién está ahí?”

Before either he or Ghost can answer, someone else stands and walks around to the front, “About time you two showed up!” Your voice is an instant relief as they both relax while you turn back to let Rodolfo know it’s safe to come out.

“Either of you injured?” you ask, eyes scanning over Soap as Ghost hops down from the open window and Rudy returns his knife.

“Nothing major,” Soap assures you, though your eyes linger on the bullet hole in his arm.

“Found this one trying to climb in through the same window,” Rudy explains, nodding towards you.

“I almost had it,” you laugh, leaning to the side to put your weight on the beam. They don’t miss the way you wince, and it doesn’t take long to notice your right leg is a deep red from the knee up.

“Your leg-”

“Looks worse than it is.”

Soap doesn’t believe you, but the subject changes to Graves and he lets it go. The four of you settle around the table as the guys formulate their plan for Alejandro’s prison break. You set your palms atop the table, leaning forward to take as much weight off of your leg as you can so you can focus on the conversation. It doesn’t help much, but it helps enough and soon the plan is concrete enough to take action. While Rudy leads Soap to the weapons locker, you take a seat on a nearby box to check the haphazard bandages you’ve wrapped around your thigh.

“You’re staying here.” Soap glances over as Ghost speaks. You laugh quietly, leaning back on your hands to stare up at the man towering over you.

“Leaving me all by my lonesome?” You sound like you’re complaining, but even from a distance Soap can see the relief in your face. Your teasing does little to soothe the stress radiating from Ghost.

“Just-” Ghost lets out a long sigh before dropping his voice so low, Soap can barely hear his words. “Be careful. Please.” You sit up straight, face suddenly serious as you set a gentle hand on Ghost’s wrist.

“For you? Always.”

“Soap, can you grab the rest of the guns?” Soap snaps back to attention, nodding at Rudy and collecting what guns he can. It takes all of two minutes, and when he turns back, Ghost is sorting through papers and you’ve set to properly bandaging your leg.

By the fifth time something happens, Soap is absolutely sure there’s something between you and the Lieutenant. He notices it everytime the two of you are together: the quiet banter, the dark jokes only the two of you enjoy, the way Ghost always seems to hover near where you’re standing. It isn’t until the 141’s every-so-often night out that his suspicions are confirmed. Gaz and Price stepped away for a round of darts ten minutes ago, and now Soap finds himself sitting alone watching you and Ghost talk at the opposite end of the bar.

“You keep staring like that, and they’re going to notice.” Soap chokes on his drink as Price takes a seat next to him, Gaz snickering as he flops down on Soap’s other side and claps him on the back.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Soap coughs out, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but the other end of the bar. Price sees straight through his lie, of course.

“Gaz, why don’t you see if the Doc wants to try a hand at darts?”

“Sure thing, boss.” Another clap on the back and Gaz is making his way over to you and Ghost. Soap startles as Price leans close and nudges him in the side with his elbow.

“Keep your eyes on him,” Price whispers, and leans away to sip at his own glass. Soap takes another drink, sneakily glancing up just as Gaz reaches you and Ghost. You smile widely at him, nodding when he gestures towards the darts board. You turn and say something to Ghost before standing from the bar and following after Gaz to the other side of the room. Ghost’s eyes follow you the entire way, never once leaving your form.

“Watches like a hawk, that one,” Price hums, “and I thought he’d be better at subtlety.” Soap turns to his Captain, brows furrowed in confusion.

“You-” Price shushes him, and nods back towards Ghost. Soap looks back, and they watch as Ghost sets down his empty glass, stands, then makes his way over to you and Gaz. He posts up, leaning against the wall closest to you where you can easily smile at him every time one of your throws lands.

“Like a lost puppy,” Price laughs.

“What’s the situation there?” Soap asks, glancing back at Price, but all Price can offer is a lazy shrug.

“Don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s been happening for a long time.”

“Alright, just got a couple papers for you to sign and you should be good to go,” you smile, gently turning Soap’s head to examine the area you’ve just pulled his stitches from.

“Thanks, Doc. ‘Preciate it.” You give a playfully dismissive wave, disappearing behind the dividing curtain.

“I’ll be right back!” you call and Soap nods, more to himself than you. He glances around at his sterile surroundings, eyes bouncing from the white walls to the white floor to the white bedsheets. The overbed table sits just next to him, though this time there’s no mess of papers scattered atop it. Instead, there sits a single file and after twenty seconds of solid boredom, Soap can’t help himself.

Lifting from the bottom corner of the file, Soap nearly drops it as he sees your picture clipped to a pile of papers. He looks behind him, pulling the curtain just enough to peer through. He spots you on the far side of the infirmary, waiting patiently at the printer. Letting the curtain fall, he quickly turns back to your file. He flips it open, picking up the paper with your photo attached. It’s an older picture, maybe from three or four years ago, but your smile is still as wide as ever.

Flipping the picture up reveals almost two entire pages of solid black lines. There’s more redacted information here than Soap has ever seen. Soap skims through what few sentences are available, every so often catching things like SIS and specialty interrogation tactics and a slew of words he never would’ve associated with your cheerful demeanor. He gets to the final page that appears to be a printed copy of the photo and his heart nearly stops as he reads the name written at the bottom and everything clicks together in his head.

Your last name is Riley.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #mw fics #moth writes #private

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seasolsel · 1 year

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#i know jobs suck and capitalism bad whatever but i kind of...#can't wait to make my own money...#like i can buy myself the little cheap candy treats anytime and not have #to give an account to my mom and be made to feel ashamed about it... when i #run out of stickers i can just buy more instead of begging my dad for spare change #and facing his three-day long severe disapproval #i can send a letter through post to my best friend so she feels im with her through her grandpa's death i/o like a voice note and an email #she may not even see till much later #i dont think im fiscally irresponsible #like i know i may struggle to even have necessities like food and rent depending on where i am and what my job is #but it's nice to think i'll be able to control my own life and decisions even if its making mistakes #i/o feeling disgusting about the things i do use my parents money for because im made to feel idiotic for spending tiny quantities once in a #while on things THEY see as frivolous and entirely unimportant... who cares if it brings me joy...#like a drivers' license and a steady income i earn are freedoms i genuinely long for there is nothing like being able to live a life on your #own terms...#idk #s.text #diary

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coralinnii · 4 months

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Congrats on 2.7k! The villain(ess) saga is my bread and butter hehe.

Anyways Id like to request borderline desperate Jamil trying to figure out Readers fav food as they can and will literally eat anything without complaint(even Lilia's cooking lol). Thank you 💖

‧₊˚✧A Dash of Sweetness ‧₊˚✧

↳ Reader S/O who eats anything

feat: Jamil genre: fluff (like shojou manga level sweetness) note: no pronouns used with the reader, idiots in love, kinda oblivious!reader, roughly 1k words,

Random storytime, my big bro once got hungry and cooked himself eggs while the rest of us were out, and no one told him the eggs went bad. He was absolutely fine the entire day and none of us would have known if not for my bro saying it’s weird that the egg he ate was green. Yet, he said the french toasts I made once were bland T_T

Anyway, this took a while because I honestly didn't know how this story will end up, hopefully you enjoy it ^_^

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Jamil can deny all day and night, but he really likes to see you enjoy his cooking. For all the times he told you that he already has his hands full with Kalim, there was suspiciously always a warm lunchbox filled with aromatic meals made by yours truly. All for that bright smile of yours whenever you would finish off the “leftover” meal that Jamil would generously share with you.

When Jamil realized that others have fed you, his hidden competitive nature rose. While there were many competent students with skills in the kitchen, within Jamil was a desire to see a special shine in your eyes when he cooks your favorite dish, a visual only for him.

But be it due to pride or embarrassment, Jamil doesn’t seem to be the type to be upfront with his intentions, nor does he take the straightforward tactic. Instead of asking you directly, he would ease his way through conversations with your friends just to find out your most favored dish per chance. But that turned out that that was harder than he expected.

Day after day, Jamil would hand you a new type of dish and watch your reaction for the slightest hint of preference. Perhaps a raise of your eyebrows, a slower time to take in the taste, anything. He's racking his brain and looked for every sort of dish and recipes from all parts of Twisted Wonderland for the slight chance he comes across a dish to your absolute liking. But each time, you simply smiled graciously and thanked him for sharing with you, not that he disliked it since he did get to spend more time with you through all of this.

But each attempt makes him all the more impatient, and curious. If you looked this beautiful just eating something good, Jamil wondered how you’d look if he served you your most favored dish? Would he see your eyes light up with joy, your body shaking with excitement, your cheeks so cutely puffy and full with every bite, maybe even bring him into a spontaneous embrace filled with so much gratitude, perhaps even a kiss…

“I’m getting ahead of myself.” Jamil hid his face in embarrassment, but the burning ears and racing heart revealed how much he wanted to see that side of you.

You found it odd how often it’s been that Jamil was offering you leftover food this past week. You’re certainly not complaining but it’s always something new everyday. Sometimes Jamil would hand you a meal mixed with aromatic spices, other times an array of sugary sweet treats and pastries. It could be a simple stew that warms your soul one day, or it could be a unique cuisine with a variety of paired side dishes.

But every day, you would notice that he would glance your way occasionally as you partake in this gracious meal, and it’s making you a bit antsy.

“You’ve been watching me for a while.” Your voice seemed to break whatever concentration the Scarabia student had. “Is there something you’re expecting me to say?”

Like a deer in headlights, Jamil flinched and felt a small wave of embarrassment when he realized he was caught watching you. He was sure that he was being discrete, but he supposed that as days went on he had gotten a tad bit restless and hasty. He got sloppy, he cursed to himself.

Quickly shaking his nerves away, he replied with a smile to ease you. “I’m simply glad the food is to your taste.”

You were hardly convinced by that. Was he experimenting with dishes, you wondered. You tried to offer some insights and compliments which seemed to satisfy the long-haired upperclassman, but you felt a sneaky suspicion that he was hoping for something else.

“Jamil, I’m really happy that you’ve been sharing all this food with me.” You said as you settled the lunchbox to your side. “But I don’t think I’m the best person if you're looking for a detailed review on food.”

Ah yes, Jamil was aware of your generous palate. While trying to discreetly find your preferences, Jamil first assumed you had a sweet tooth when you praised the Heartslabyul vice-housewarden for his sweets. But then, Jamil overheard you enjoying your visits to Mostro Lounge so perhaps you had a pension for seafood…Then, he was thrown for a loop when he heard from a giddy Lilia that he was delighted to see you have such a rigorous appetite, having tried and finished the beef-seafood-fruit stew he made for his dormmates.

You...were not picky, to say the least.

You felt a pang of shame for your lack of refined judgment in cuisine. “Your food is really good. Sorry, I don't know what else I can say about it that is helpful to you.”

That’s it. Jamil saw an opening. “Perhaps, I could make your favorite food,” his voice sounded as though it was a spontaneous thought. “Then it would be something you can speak more on a personal level.”

All other attempts to learn your food preferences failed in the past, but now there was an opportunity to learn firsthand from the source. It wasn’t strange, was it? It was simply the flow of the conversation, and all the long-haired upperclassman did was offer an option. What an auspicious break for Jamil.

But when Jamil looked to you to gauge your reaction, you surprised him.

You stared at him, eyes wide with shock. Your lips quivered and shook, as though your body was nervously processing his words, which deeply worried Jamil. Has he somehow offended you? How?!

Finally, you spoke. “You would make something…just for me?”

“Yes, if that’s something alright with you?”

All this time, you were under the impression that Jamil was offering you food that couldn’t be finished, and you were content with taking whatever was offered, happy that the vice-housewarden thought of you in some way. But having Jamil make something homemade purposely with you in mind… to think of you as he makes the effort to do something, hoping you will enjoy it. A sweet gesture made for you, and you alone.

Feelings of butterflies filled you as your cheeks felt hot at such thoughts. You felt your lips quiver as a goofy smile crept its way onto your face, but you tried to hide your giddiness behind your fingers.

You thought for a bit, then softly you replied. “Curry would be nice.”

Hmm? Jamil was surprised. That’s his favorite…

“Then, we can eat together.” You smiled nervously. “I think sharing with someone you like makes food taste better.”

Such a lovely sight of two shy fools. One was grinning oddly while the other was hiding his shamefully burning face behind his hood.

#this was a toughie #I had no idea where this was gonna take me #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #jamil viper #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader #2.7k followers event

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wispstalk · 2 months

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Some writing advice for hunting, bc I see a lot of hunting scenes in fantasy that make me itch. More under the cut. Don't read if you're sensitive to blood-and-guts discussion or animal death.

Finding game:

- I don't hunt much these days bc I don't feel like getting my ass out of bed at shitfuck o'clock every weekend during the season. Which you have to do, because much of the time you come home empty-handed. Successful hunts come about when you're out there often.

- You don't really have to be a good tracker to hunt, but you do have to know the basics of your prey and you have to be able to interpret the landscape even if it's unfamiliar. It's less likely a tracker is looking for "bent blades of grass" or whatever and more likely they are noticing game trails, sheltered areas where nests and burrows are, a spot of thick vegetation which would indicate a water source.

- Scat and footprints are useful too ofc but to varying degrees. If I'm hunting deer it's just confirmation that they're in the area; more often I use knowledge of their habits to actually find them. If I were hunting something elusive and solitary like a cougar I would pay more attention to the tracks but that's also a reason people hunt with dogs!

Actually hunting:

- Bows are not the only hunting weapons, though would be most common in ur typical medieval fantasy type setting. Spears and lances, slings with stones, and clubs would also be used. And knives and swords but in this hunter's opinion, FUUUUCK that.

- Lung shot is a quick death. Heart shot and head shot too but that is much harder. Other shots might mean tracking a wounded animal as it runs away. This is where things like broken twigs/bent grass are especially telling, and ofc blood. Small game bleed out faster and won't get as far but you might spend quite a while running after an elk shot in the flank.

- This highly depends on the prey but hunting often involves more sitting around than people realize. I bring a small pad for my booty ass bc sometimes you'll spend hours in a strategic spot waiting for the game to pass by. Also hides (the shelter, not the skins) are a thing and most hunters would consider shelter-building an essential skill.

- Hunting seasons are not entirely a modern convention -- there are better times of year to find different animals. But there would be less concern, historically, about killing animals during the breeding season than we have today.

- Even when I was hunting regularly and more confident, I got a huge adrenaline spike EVERY time I had an animal in my sights.

Big game:

- A deer has a lot of meat on it and though it's not a bad thing to leave a carcass for scavengers, your party of two or three adventurers probably will not go to the trouble of hunting deer unless they have some nearby place to cache, preserve, or trade what they can't eat before it spoils. Are they leaving it behind or do they have some way to take full advantage of such a large kill?

- If your character gets a large game animal they're probably going to field dress it: deal with all the blood and guts on site, then quarter it so it can be packed back to the campsite or whatever. My dad is a big burly mutant man and he cannot carry a deer by himself. You can carry game on poles or horseback too but field dressing is pretty typical in a situation where u can't just fling it in the back of the truck and hang it at home.

- I grew up eating bear and when it comes up I'm often surprised how many people don't know that people hunt bear for meat. It's tasty imo, especially makes a good sausage

- I can hunt deer alone, though company is nice. I wouldn't attempt hunting something more dangerous by myself. Large animals especially are better taken down as a group effort. In the TES context for example it would be kind of insane to hunt horker alone. Not that some folks wouldn't try.

Small game:

- A character who subsists mostly on hunting is going to be eating a lot of small game. They are probably going to use traps and snares in addition to actually going out on hunts.

- Look up "rabbit starvation." Small game is often (but not always) lean and going without fat for a long time can cause serious health issues.

- I joke that you don't hunt turkey, you just go get one. Game birds are kind of stupid. I plan a deer hunt, but I have gone out and shot grouse on a whim.

Processing:

- Draining blood, skinning, plucking, butchering, dealing with all the bones and guts, storage and preservation: pretty time consuming and involved. It's a good excuse for social activity.

- The moneyed classes likely would not process their kills themselves, unless they're doing some kinda randyll tarly masculinity flex for the symbolism. Kitchen staff or a local butcher would handle it.

- A good skinning knife is kinda wide and short. Some game knives have a rounded tip which keeps it from puncturing the skin in case of accidental slippage.

- Skinning is done with a light hand bc puncturing the digestive system means you've poisoned the meat. I will say it is less difficult than I expected it to be the first time I tried it.

- We don't eat a lot of offal in the US but a deer liver, for example, would be considered prime meat by many and eaten first. Bear, walrus, and seal liver contain toxic amounts of vitamin A and would be thrown away.

- I've been told every animal has enough brains to tan its own hide, but I think there are some exceptions. It's definitely true of deer and elk. With small animals like rabbits it's hardly worth the effort of getting the brains out and other things can be used but brain tanned leather is soooo soft and nice.

- Hides and pelts are useful and valuable and would be kept or traded if circumstances allowed. You can tightly roll a hide to keep it from drying out before tanning, or you can freeze it, basically indefinitely. You can also air dry it once scraped clean and soften it later, which is what fur hunters would most likely do for efficiency's sake. Tanning is also so so so fucking gross imo. Really slimy process, and tanneries REEK.

That's all I can think of for now and this is already hella long but the takeaway is that it is generally a pretty involved activity and more impactful on lifestyle than I usually see depicted. So there ya have it

#meta #writing

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rebelliousstories · 10 days

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Ex Lover’s Lover

Relationship: Cooper Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 2,093

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: Cooper Howard gets introduced to a new up and coming actress after his divorce is finalized. What happens when Barb finds out that Janey has been spending time with the two of them?

The sound of giggles and laughter filled the beautiful California ranch home. It was a sound that had almost never existed there again, but that all changed. Two adults were running around their dinning room in just their bathing suits because someone decided to tickle the other one.

“You ain’t gettin’ me, Coop! Not gonna happen!” The sweet accented voice rang through.

“Oh yes I am, darling.” He replied, darting around the table just in time to catch the woman. Wrapping his arms around her, Cooper began to drag her back outside to make use of their hot tub. She giggled the entire way back, and laughed when Cooper picked her up in a bridal hold to set her in the warm water. There was a tray of drinks waiting for them from before they had gotten side tracked.

“Now that we aren’t goin’ to be distracted any longer,” he groaned as he slipped into the warm water. “Here you are, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, hun. Ugh, this is just what I needed. You have no idea the day I have had.” She took a sip of her martini and relaxed further into the water. Cooper squeezed her thigh underneath the water to prompt her into talking about whatever it was.

“So the new Nuka-Cola ads ran today, and I get it, they want the prettiest image out of the bunch. But the retouching they did afterwards made my lips look twice their size. I look like I have clown lips,” pausing to take a sip, “and when I brought up my concerns to John he said, and I quote, ‘that’s what the people want. They want sex appeal.’ I’m selling a drink, not myself for a few bucks for the hour.” She ended her long rant with another sip of her drink.

“Darlin’ why don’t you find a new manager?” He asked, following her lead with his own martini.

“Cause John is a family friend. If I didn’t use him as my manager, my family would freak out. I’m tryin’ to get them out of the slums in Dallas.” Her voice wavered as she thought about it.

“Well, baby. What do you wanna do about it?” Cooper set down his glass on the ledge and turned his body fully towards his lover.

“I don’t know, Coop. I’m just hopin’ this bullshit dies down before the new movie. I’m just so stressed all the time right now. And I wanna go back to when I was actin’ for the love of it. Not just the love of a paycheck.” Downing the rest of her glass, and eating her olive, her hands were relieved of its glass by Cooper. He maneuvered her from her seat to his lap, and wrapped his arms around her middle.

“Darlin’, you can do whatever the hell you want. If you wanna get back into acting for the love of it, you can. If you wanna change a manager, let your family be mad. You’re gonna take over the world one day. I just hope I’m round to see it.” Howard started to press kisses to any and all skin he could get access to. He was briefly interrupted by her hand hitting his own shoulder, and he began to chuckle.

“Shut it. You’re not that old. You’ll still be around to see me reach your level of stardom.” She teased, pressing her lips against his. Their lips moved against each other as hands began to roam. The couple lost themselves in the moment, and did not pull away for anything. That was, until, someone’s stomach growled loudly.

“You hungry there baby?” Cooper teased, rubbing the front of her bathing suit, right over her stomach.

“You know drinking makes me hungry.” She whined, hitting her lover again when he laughed at her.

“If you think it’s so funny, you can go get food to bring out. How about that?” And she scooted off of Cooper to the bench seat of the hot tub. The man groaned, but made the move to get out of the warm water.

“Alright. What you want, baby?” He asked, wrapping his robe around him to make his way to the house.

“Can you get the cheese board from earlier? That sounds wonderful.” She leaned up to give him a kiss as he passed by, before settling back into the water. Cooper walked into the house and quickly found the board that she had made for an appetizer before their dinner. He was about to leave with the board when the phone rang. Setting the food down, Cooper padded over to the phone, and answered.

“Hello?” He asked, waiting to hear the voice on the other end of the line.

“Coop, hey. It’s me.” It was his ex-wife, Barb, on the phone.

“What do you want, Barb?” As much as he tried to sound indifferent, he was worried it came across as rude.

“Listen, I need you to take Janey. I have a big meeting at work tomorrow morning and my babysitter can’t make it. Please, I really need this favor.”

“It’s a Saturday tomorrow, Barb. What the hell you doin’ that’s so important?” He questioned, leaning against the wall.

“It doesn’t matter. Please, Cooper. Will you come take her for the weekend? You guys can start your week early this way.” She pleaded over the phone. Cooper scrubbed a hand over his face while the other held the phone.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll come get her. Be there soon.” He hung up the phone before she could say another word. With a deep sigh, he opened the door to the backyard and made his way over to the hot tub where his lover looked like she was about to fall asleep.

“Darlin’,” he shook her and watched her slowly come back to the land of the living. “Gotta go pick up Janey. Wanna come with me?”

“Yeah. I’d love to. You know I love that little girl.” She stretched and made her way out of the tub where Cooper waited with her robe. They made quick work of getting dressed and ready for the evening drive. The sun was just about to set when they left their house and got in the car.

It was a little over an hour before they arrived at Barb’s new house where the lights were still on. The entire drive over Cooper kept squeezing her hand, thigh, or really and part he could hold. There was something nerve wracking about seeing Barb knowing what he knew. He was not looking forward to it, but she was the mother of his child; that would never be taken away.

Getting out of the car, Cooper ran around and opened the door for his lover, before grabbing her hand to walk themselves up to the door. He knocked, and waited. The door opened up to the face of his ex-wife. She relaxed upon seeing Cooper, but was shocked to see the woman beside him.

“Hey,” Barb turned back to her ex-husband, “thank you for coming to get her. Come in. She’s just getting her things.” The couple walked inside the luxurious home. Everything in it looked like it was from a magazine.

“Cooper, may I talk to you?” Barb whispered, beginning to drag the man into the kitchen. He turned to his girlfriend, and only went when she nodded. Walking into the kitchen, he placed his hands in his pockets, and waited for her to speak.

“What is she doing here?” She just came out and said it.

“What do you mean?” Cooper responded.

“Don’t give me that, Coop. I thought it was just her imagination, but now I can see that Janey wasn’t lying.” Barb continued, placing her hands on her hips.

“The hell do you mean?” He asked once more.

“What are you doing with a girl young enough to be your daughter?” It was finally out in the open.

“Barb,” Cooper began, “she is a wonderful lady and I’m really happy with her. She’s of legal, consenting age. I didn’t coerce her into anything. She makes me happy and she makes Janey happy.”

“But she is so young. What’s gonna happen when she decides she doesn’t want to be with you anymore and leaves? Then you and Janey are heartbroken.” Her stern words caused Cooper to reel back as if he had been slapped.

“Wow. You really think that she is going to leave me just like that? Because of my age?” He watched as Barb stammered and tried to back pedal on her words. But Cooper just held up a hand, and silenced her.

“Listen, we’ve talked about our age difference. Hell, this is not the first time that I’ve thought about that. But every time I try and bring it up, she’s the one that puts me in my place. We love each other, of course I want her to be around Janey. And they love each other.” Cooper had stunned Barb into silence. The sincerity in his words was shocking to his ex-wife. All she could do was nod without a word as she tried to think. But before she could get another word in, footsteps ran into the kitchen.

“Daddy!” Janey yelled, happily throwing herself at her father.

“Oh, hello sweet pea! You been good for your momma this week?” He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he set her back down. She nodded eagerly, and smiled, which prompted her parents to smile. Another set of footsteps came in the room.

“Sorry, I know y’all were talkin’. But she was so excited to hear daddy was here.” Cooper’s girlfriend had made her way into the kitchen. Neither her nor her lover missed the way Barb’s face screwed up at the mere sight of her. Extending her hand, she introduced and gave her name to the older woman.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you. Janey has told me so much about you.” Barb shook the woman’s hand with a firm grasp.

“Likewise,” she turned to her daughter, “alright. You go have fun with daddy and his friend?”

“She’s not just his friend. Daddy loves Cola like he loved you, mommy.” Her words held an innocence that only a child could have. The three adults looked in between each other with solemn looks.

“Come on, Janey. Let’s let momma and daddy finish their conversation. Can I have the keys, please?” She held out her hands, and offered one to Janey while the other waited for the keys to the car. Cooper handed them over and sent a smile towards his girls as they left.

“At least she’s polite. That seems to be a lost skill for this generation.” Barb commented, tapping her nails against the counter top.

“Yeah she is. Listen, she’s going to be a staple in my life and Janey’s for the foreseeable future. So just try and keep the comments to a minimum. Good luck at your meeting.” And with that, Cooper left his ex-wife’s presence.

When he left the house, he felt like he could breathe again. Letting out a sharp exhale, Howard did not notice his ex-wife watching him from the window with a mournful expression. He opened the car door and smiled at the sound of laughter.

“Now what are we laughing about in here, huh?” He pressed, turning towards his daughter and lover. They shared a look and giggled to themselves once more.

“Nothing. Just laughing about the new advertisement that Janey saved.” She replied, showing Cooper the clipped out image. It was the same one that she had been lamenting over earlier in the hot tub.

“Gotta say darlin’. Clown look is a good look on you.” Everyone laughed at that, and Cooper handed the image back to his daughter before driving out and away, back to his house.

“Can we get ice cream?” Janey piped up after a minute. Cooper looked in the mirror to his daughter, and then over to his lover in the passenger seat.

“Well, I don’t see why not. Whatcha say, Nuka-Cola? Want a Nuka-Cola float?” He teased, squeezing her thigh when she slapped his shoulder.

“Maybe a root beer float. Do you know the chemicals in Nuka-Cola?” She quipped back, holding Cooper’s hand tightly in hers on her lap.

“Alright, well, let’s go get something for y’all’s sweet tooth.” They continued driving, talking, and laughing all the way to the ice cream parlor. And it was there,the Cooper realized that he could find a second chance at love and a family.

#rebelliousstories #writing #fallout #fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard x reader #cooper the ghoul howard #cooper howard x oc #the ghoul x oc #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #janey howard #barb howard

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soulofapatrick · 5 months

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Falling Into You - Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader

Summary: you and stiles finally give into your unknown crush on each other

Words: 2.6K

Warning: Heated makeout session; if you squint there's dry humping

Y/N’s POV

Living with Stiles has been far from boring. Ever since my dad was killed and my younger brother - Isaac - went to live with Derek, Sheriff Noah Stilinski graciously opened his home to me. That meant living with Stiles too, and let me tell you, it has been anything but dull. Stiles has this knack for turning even the most mundane day into a storytelling session filled with the antics he and Scott get up to.

I’ve grown to love it here. The Stilinski house is like a second home, and the sheriff is like a second dad to me. He’s been incredibly supportive, especially during the tough times. And then there’s Stiles. He’s… well, he’s Stiles. Quirky, witty and always wearing that mischievous grin.

Lately, though, something’s shifted. I’ve caught myself stealing glances at Stiles when he’s not looking. His passion for solving mysteries, his loyalty to his friends—there’s something undeniably endearing about him. Maybe it’s the way he cares for everyone around him, or the way he throws himself into every insane situation without hesitation. But it's more than that. There's a warmth in his laughter, a genuineness in his concern, that makes my heart flutter a bit faster. And as much as I try to ignore it, I can't deny that a crush has been slowly blossoming.

Living under the same roof, it’s hard to keep these feelings under wraps. I find myself wanting to spend more time around him, hoping for moments where it’s just the two of us, away from the chaotic everyday that is Beacon Hills. Yet, I’m also terrified. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if it ruins our friendship or makes things awkward while living with him?

Stiles is currently sat cross legged on my bed, looking so engrossed in whatever supernatural mystery he's delving into. His dedication is admirable, even if it means sacrificing proper posture for the sake of research. I can't help but steal glances at him every now and then, admiring the furrow in his brow as he concentrates.

I wish I could tell him how I feel. But the fear of ruining what we currently have, the fear of changing the dynamic between us, it’s suffocating. So instead, I go back to focusing on my assignment, the words blurring on the page as my thought drift back to him.

The room is quiet except for the clicking of keys and the occasional muttered comment from Stiles. As I sit at my desk, trying to concentrate on the assignment in front of me, my mind wandering again—this time an entirely different scenario and it’s one that feels both exhilarating and terrifying.

I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to set aside the fear and uncertainty, to sit next to Stiles and lean in, closing the distance between us. What would it be like to press my lips against Stiles’? Would they be as soft as they look, as warm as his laugh? My heart races at the mere thought, a flurry of emotions dancing within me.

I picture the moment vividly: closing the space between us, feeling the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, and the anticipation before our lips meet. I imagine his hands, tentative yet steady, finding their place on my skin, maybe on the curve of my cheek or the small of my back. How would it feel to have his touch ignite a thousand sparks, to feel the electricity between us?

There’s a mix of longing and hesitation, the desire to experience that connection, yet the fear of disrupting the comfortable equilibrium we've found in our friendship. But in my mind's eye, it's a beautiful chaos—a leap into the unknown, a chance to explore something deeper, something that might exist beyond our late-night conversations and shared moments.

Before I can continue imagining me and Stiles the said boy breaks my thoughts, “Hey Y/N! Come here,” He speaks, excitement in his voice but his eyes never once leaving the screen.

I force myself out of the reverie, blinking away the vivid daydreams as Stiles called out to me. His excitement is palpable, contagious even, and I push aside the rush of emotions to focus on the present.

I rise from my chair, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness as I make my way to where Stiles is seated. He’s still hunched over the laptop, his attention entirely captured by the screen. With a careful step, I settle on the bed behind him, leaning over him enough to rest my chin on his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s got him so intrigued.

His warmth seeps through the fabric of his shirt, radiating against my chest, a sensation I try desperately to ignore. The scent that envelopes me—a blend of old books, faint traces of motor oil and a lingering hint of coffee—should be distracting, but it’s oddly comforting. It’s quintessentially Stiles, a unique combination that feels inexplicably familiar and reassuring.

I glance at the screen, feigning interest in whatever supernatural phenomenon has grabbed his attention. But truthfully, my focus wavers between trying to understand what he’s showing me and the proximity between us. His presence feels magnetic, drawing me in, yet I fight the urge to let my thoughts drift into forbidden territory.

“Look at this,” He exclaims, pointing to a section on the screen. His enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, I forget the inner turmoil, getting lost in his excitement.

Stiles is engrossed in explaining something on the screen, his energy palpable. I try my best to keep up, nodding along as he talks, but the proximity between us amplifies every emotion within me.

Suddenly, he turns his head, excitement lighting up his russet eyes as he tries to make a point. His words trail off mid-sentence, and in that suspended moment, our faces are unexpected close. I feel his breath, warm against my skin, a sensation that sends a shiver down my spine.

As if in slow motion, I notice every tiny detail—the freckles scattered across his pale skin, the way his eyes dart down to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my gaze again. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m sure he can heart the erratic beat of my heart. There's a shift in the air, an unspoken tension that crackles between us. His cheeks flush with colour, a shade of red that matches the intensity of my own emotions. I can't tear my gaze away from him, from the way his eyes flicker between mine and the way his lips part, as if searching for words that elude him.

For a moment, time seems suspended, our silent exchange speaking volumes. I feel a surge of courage and vulnerability intertwine within me, a silent plea for something more, a leap into the unknown.

But just as quickly as the moment arrives, it slips away. Stiles blinks, breaking the trance, and clears his throat, shifting slightly away. "Um, sorry, got carried away there," he stammers, his voice a tad higher than usual.

The air feels charged with an awkward tension, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. I try to ease the discomfort by standing up, intending to head back to my desk and salvage what’s left of our usual camaraderie. But before I can even take a step, Stiles’ hand shoots out, wrapped around my wrist in a swift motion that catches me off guard.

Caught off guard by the sudden proximity, I stumble and practically find myself in Stiles's lap. His warmth envelopes me, and for a moment, our heartbeats synchronise in a chaotic rhythm that seems to echo the unspoken emotions between us.

Stiles’ eyes lock onto mine, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability swirling within their depths. His tongue darts out to wet his pretty pink lips, a nervous gesture that betrays the intensity of the moment. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, his hand finds the back of my neck, drawing me closer.

In that heartbeat before our lips meet, the world around us seems to still. His touch sends a surge of electricity through me, igniting a fire that I didn’t know was simmering within. And then, finally, our lips touch in a kiss that feels both anticipated and inevitable.

As our embrace intensifies, the laptop becomes a mere afterthought, pushed aside to make way for the burgeoning heat between us. Stiles's movements are deliberate, his hands finding my hips with a confident touch, guiding me to straddle his lap as our bodies mold together.

The kiss deepens, the connection between us sparking a newfound intensity. Stiles’ hands, warm against my skin, slip under the fabric of my teeshirt, sending shivers cascading down my spine. His touch is electric, fingers tracing patterns along my hips, a gentle yet possessive hold that ignites a fire within me. I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingertips as I tilt his head back slightly, deepening the kiss. There’s a dominance in his action, a confidence that surprises me but also excites me in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

His lips move with purpose, fervent and seeking, a silent demand for more as our breaths mingle in the shared space between us. Each movement, each touch, feels like an unspoken confession of desires long kept hidden.

My heart races as I lean into him, relishing the sensation of his lips against mine, the way his body responds to my touch. And as I lose myself in the passion of the moment, it becomes clear that Stiles, despite his usual playful demeanour, possesses a commanding presence that takes my breath away.

As the intensity of the moment heightens, Stiles’ touch remains both from and reassuring, his hands guiding me with a tenderness that contrasts his newfound dominance. With a gentle yet firm pressure, his long, nimble fingers press against my back, coaxing me to lower myself onto him. There’s an undeniable pull in his touch, drawing me closer until I’m lying atop him, our chests pressing together in a shared rhythm. Our breaths mingle in the small space between y=us, the heat of the moment making the air around us feel charged.

His chest rises and falls with each breath, syncing with mine, creating an unspoken harmony. The sensation of our bodies pressed together sends jolt through me, an electric current that ignites every nerve ending.

As I rest against him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against mine, a rush of emotions floods over me—desire mingled with a newfound intimacy, vulnerability meshed with a sense of comfort in this uncharted territory.

Stiles's gaze holds a mixture of passion and tenderness, a silent understanding passing between us in the shared silence. His fingers trace gentle patterns along my back, a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying a reassurance amidst the fervour of the moment. His lips part as if to speak but instead, in a very Stiles fashion, a torrent of words spill out in a hurried stream.

“I-I've wanted to do this for so long, and I'm sorry, I should've asked, I mean, I wanted to ask, but then this moment happened, and I just... I didn't want to ruin it, but I should’ve—" He babbles, the words tumbling out faster than I can comprehend. His apology mixes with an admission that he’s wanted this as much as I have, and amidst his rambling, I can’t help but laugh softly, finding the sudden flood of words endearing.

Before his apologies and explanations can continue, I decide to silence him the best way I know how. With a gentle yet decisive motion, I cup his face in both hands, capturing his lips in a kiss that speaks volumes, stealing away his words and replacing them with the silent language of our shared desires.

The kiss is deliberate interruption, a way to convey everything I’ve been feeling in a single moment. It’s a tender yet firm assertion, an assurance that words are unnecessary amidst the eloquence of our connection.

As our lips meet, I feel a shift in the air, the nervous energy dissipating into something more serene. Stiles’ initial surprise melts into a reciprocated warmth, and soon, the kiss becomes a dance of shared affection and unspoken apologies. In that suspended moment, the kiss becomes a story of its own—a narrative of unspoken emotions conveyed through the gentle meeting of our lips. Stiles's initial surprise gives way to a newfound ease, his lips molding against mine with a familiarity that feels surprisingly natural yet exhilaratingly new.

His touch, tender yet assured, ignites a cascade of sensations. His hands explore, tracing the contours of my back, sending tingles racing along my skin. There’s a delicate balance in his touch, a mix of reverence and longing that speaks volumes about the dept of his emotions.

As our kiss deepens, I’m enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions. Stiles’ lips against mine feel like a discovery—a blend of softness and fervour, an unspoken language that surpasses any verbal communication. Each movement of our lips is a revelation, a testament to the unspoken connection between us. His closeness has a gravitational pull, drawing me in and enveloping me in a sense of security and desire. In this moment, I feel cherished, desired, and seen in a way that goes beyond mere words.

The intensity of our kiss, a universe of emotions contained within, is abruptly interrupted by the jarring ring of Stiles’ phone. Startled, we break apart, a shared groan escaping both of us as the moment fractures, replacing by the intrusion of reality. Stiles fumbles for his phone, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. With a sigh, he answers and puts it on speaker, revealing Scott’s urgent voice on the other end, asking if Stiles had found any leads.

As Stiles responds to Scott’s inquiries, I take the opportunity to sit back up, adjusting my position so that I’m straddling his waist. The shift seems to catch Stiles of guard, his breath hitching slightly, and I can feel the bulge pressing against my ass. I watch as Stiles bites his lip, a subtle attempt to suppress any involuntary sounds, his focus divided between the phone call and me, shifting on his lap. His eyes meet mine for a fleeting moment, and I can see a hint of frustration at the interruption, mixed with a smouldering intensity that sends a thrill through me.

Leaning closer, I offer an apologetic smile, silently acknowledging the disruption but unable to resist teasing him but grinding my hips against his, pretending to get more comfortable on his lap. I notice the way his breath catches again and his hands dart for my hips unsure if they want to stop my hips or help me roll them against that growing bulge.

“Sh-shit,” A moan escapes him and Scott falls silent as Stiles’ cheeks bloom a pretty shade of red, “Fuck, I gotta go, talk later.” And with that Stiles is hanging up, practically throwing his phone on the floor and in one quick moment has us flipped over so I’m laying underneath him.

“Hi.” I breathe quietly, an ache between my legs.

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me you little tease.” He grumbles, leaning on his elbows either side of my head.

“What you gonna do about it?” I challenge, loving the gleam in his eyes.

Stiles chuckles softly, his eyes dancing with mischief as he leans closer, his breath brushing against my lips.

"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you've started."

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

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toastsnaffler · 3 months

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damn I rly have another 4 weeks of holiday this year huh. I should start making some plans

#well maybe more like 3 weeks bc I wanna keep some to use for long weekends or day trips #but thats still kind of a lot..#my problem is i dont wanna take time off just to stay at home bc I do that most weekends. but im not sure I rly wanna go anywhere either #I dont mind travelling but its very much just a function for me. even when im travelling for fun + not bc I Have to it feels no different #Im v independent but I just dont rly have the adventurers spirit. plus im disabled so going new places alone is so stressful sometimes #ugh I dont wanna let my parents catch wind of how much holiday i have tho bc theyll be like come stay with us for a week!#i will Kill Myself no thanks #theyll probs already get christmas with me and thats an ordeal enough #its the expense as well idk how much its worth it. even if i can afford it like that money couldve gone into so many other things #ahhh.#my flatmate did suggest we go somewhere together but i feel like shes gone off that idea.. ik she doesnt get as much holiday anyway #id feel bad eating into it just so she has to spend more time with me even tho we already live together. nightmarish ik #there are maybe some landscapes id like to see but not alone bc id wanna hike but i dont rly have any friends into that kinda hiking #like i cant rly just fuck off into the mountains for a week by myself the risk is stupid #i dont knooooow. maybe ill just do myself a cornwall trip v early or late summer when kids are in school that might be nice #bc its just trains to get there. and ive spent a lot of time alone there before like it wouldnt be as stressful as a New Place entirely #i wanna do a music festival in the summer too but rly id only need 2 days holiday for that. and again i cant rly go alone #so i need to find ppl to convince to come w me #god i feel so lame for not rly wanting to go on proper holidays. but its never felt worth it to me sorry 😭#blame the childhood trauma or whatever #ill stew on it and maybe ill think of something we'll see. ive got a while yet before id need to book stuff anyway #gotta do some more cleaning today but the sooner i can get it done the sooner i can play elden ring 🙏🙏🙏🙏#.diaries

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 5 months

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The Danger Zone (Part 12) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY. MINORS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Brief and Not Really Explicit Sexual Content; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake take a new step in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

Jake sat across from Javy out on Javy’s back porch. Phoenix, you, and Emma were out together doing something that Jake was sure had to do with the baby, and leaving Jake and Javy to have a quiet afternoon to catch up between themselves.

“You still don’t know the baby’s gender then?” Javy asked, causing Jake to nod.

“She wanted to wait, and I didn’t mind.”

“But you have an idea, don’t you?” Javy prodded, knowing Jake as he did.

“Yeah, I think that the baby will be healthy and happy.” Tapping his fingers on the table, Jake added, “But I sort of—and you cannot tell her this—want it to be a girl.”

“You want a girl?” Javy repeated, not looking surprised.

“I’d be very happy with a boy. But I feel like a girl, who takes after her mom and looks like her mom, that’s what I keep picturing in my head.” Scratching his chin, Jake looked over at Javy. “The more that kid takes after their mom, the better.”

“How is the future Mrs. Seresin doing anyway?” Javy teased, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s glowing these days, Javy. I swear. She’s absolutely glowing. And she says that the baby is getting more active. Nothing that I can feel yet, but they’re moving around in there. Mostly at night, which I can tell is going to annoy her eventually, but she’s just so happy every time she can feel the baby. And I mean I can see her bump getting bigger every week. I started taking photos of her so that we can track her growth. And I don’t know what it is but when I’m right next to her, I just feel the need to touch her bump and hold it and just be there.”

“Look at you,” Javy chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re smiling more than ever. You’ve got a photo from the ultrasound in your cockpit and in your locker. You spend almost every lunch break calling her. You’re always rushing home to see her.” Javy laughed to himself again. “You’ve gone soft, Jake.”

“Fuck off, Javy,” Jake sighed without malice.

“It’s a good look for you,” Javy defended himself. “I mean, you’re the guy who got his callsign for being selfish, Jake.”

“Yeah, thanks to my kid’s uncle.”

“He’s still not over it?” Javy guessed, reaching for his beer bottle.

“He’ll never get over it,” Jake scoffed with a sense of finality. “Because he’s an idiot who thinks that I took advantage of her and that I’ll do something to hurt or upset her and the baby soon.” Rolling his eyes, Jake added, “He’d probably celebrate if we broke up.”

“I don’t think he’d celebrate . . . in front of her,” Javy added after a moment of thought.

“He can fuck off for all I care. He’s not getting in between the two of us or our family. If he actually cares about his sister, he’d back off.”

“Has he at least reduced his attitude?”

“He never says anything in front of her. I’m pretty sure that Emma and or Penny would actually drop kick him if he did. And he’s not a complete moron. He doesn’t want to stress her out.” Jake took a sip of his beer. “So, he’s just an asshole when she’s not around.”

“I guess that’s an improvement.”

“Barely. I’m not going to deal with this shit when the baby’s old enough to hear his bullshit and sense the tension between the two of us. I mean, what if the baby overheard him saying shit about me? I’d fucking kill him, Javy, I’m telling you that right now. If he wants to be an uncle to my kid, he’s going to have to get over whatever stick is lodged up his ass.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“No. I don’t want to stress her out or pick a fight. It’s going really well right now, Javy, and I’ll never forgive myself if I fuck it up over her idiot brother.”

“She’s aware of it, I’m sure. Her and Nat talk about it, I think. And Emma.” Javy rubbed his cheek as an amused smirk tugged at his lips. “My money’s on Penny to kick his ass honestly.”

“I’d pay to see that.”

“So, you guys are talking about the future?”

“Every day,” Jake agreed. “She wants everything sorted out—or as much as possible—before she gets too far into her third trimester.”

“What do you mean by everything?”

“Getting things put in both of our names so that if something happens to one of us, the other can take care of everything and the baby. Getting our wills updated. Discussing who would take care of the baby if her family’s history repeats itself.”

“And how is that going?”

“We were looking for a house because with the cheaper loans I would get, it just makes more financial sense, and we’ll need the space. And as for the baby, it’s a little more complicated right now because we’re not married, but we’re working on it.”

“Can I make an observation?”

“Sure.”

“Why aren’t you guys just getting married?” Javy asked, causing Jake to pause. “Because a lot of this work would be done if you just signed a piece of paper at town hall. And you’d get benefits, she’d save a shit ton on medical expenses, and there’s no big fight in the hospital if something happens to one of you.” Javy added after a moment, “A huge part of why Nat and I got married was so that if a bird strike or G-LOC situation happened again, the other could actually get information from the hospital and make decisions.”

“I know,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “I was thinking about that.”

“I mean, I get it’s a huge commitment, but you’re already having a baby together. Getting married can’t be a bigger commitment than that.”

“Yeah, it’s not,” Jake agreed, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve been thinking about bringing it up to her.”

“Well, did you at least tell her about your family?”

“Javy—”

“—Jake, you’ve got to tell her.”

“I’m just trying to protect her.”

“Leaving her without all of the information is not protecting her, Jake, it’s setting her up for failure. At least tell her about your mother.”

“Why my mother?”

“Because it explains a lot about you, Jake,” Javy stated, causing him to look down. “And she likes you, for some reason.”

“Fuck off,” Jake sighed, reaching for his beer. Taking a long sip, he set the bottle down and rotated it around, lost in thought for a moment. “I’ll tell her about it. When the time’s right.”

~~~~~

You woke late on Saturday. You were never an early riser before but pregnancy made waking up early on the weekend impossible. Picking your head off of your pregnancy pillow, which Jake bought for you, you turned to see that Jake was gone, as usual.

But when you saw a note on his pillow, you sat up. You picked it up and unfolded the paper, smiling to yourself when you saw Jake’s handwriting.

Get your rest because I made plans for us tonight. I still owe you that first date.

- J

Practically beaming with joy, you laid back down, thinking to yourself about what Jake could have had planned for tonight. You assumed dinner, at least, but he hadn’t mentioned anything to you about where he would take you on a date. As you were rereading the note, you heard the front door open and Jake step inside. You waited for him to walk into the bedroom and smiled at him.

“Morning. How was your run?”

“Fine. Took a new route through the park,” Jake replied, kneeling on the bed and leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. Moving your shirt out of the way, he pressed another kiss to your bump. “Any movement this morning?”

“Not yet,” you replied, running a hand through Jake’s hair as you smiled softly m. “They only start to move when it’s inconvenient for me.”

“Yeah, that’s my baby in there,” Jake joked, causing you to shake your head at him.

“So, what are we doing later then?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jake stated, getting off of the bed. “I was thinking that we should leave here around five.”

“You’re not going to tell me anything about it?”

“Dress nicely but nothing crazy. And just make sure that you’re comfortable.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” you called after him as he walked into the bathroom to shower.

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

You scoffed at his words as he closed the door. Laying down, you decided to stay in bed a little longer as Jake showered. But you sat up when you felt your baby start to move right over your bladder. It started as a little bit of a tickle and then some more discomfort and then you were shifting around, trying to find some sort of relief, and then you were frantically knocking on the door to the bathroom and letting yourself in.

Jake turned his neck, staring at you with concern and a question on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw you making a beeline for the toilet, he had the audacity to smirk a bit. You shot him a look right back.

“The baby’s moving?” he guessed, letting the hot spray of the shower hit his chest.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to concentrate.”

~~~~~

You checked your appearance one last time in the mirror before you grabbed your phone and walked out of the bathroom. Jake was sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for you, dressed in a nice button down tee shirt and a pair of black pants. When you stepped around the corner, he looked up and you instantly felt your cheeks warm as his expression changed and his sharp green eyes studied your figure.

“Does the dress make my boobs pop out too much?” you asked, adjusting the strap a bit subconsciously. “Or is it too nice? Or not nice enough?”

“You look perfect,” Jake told you, standing up and sliding his phone into his back pocket. He walked over to you and grabbed your hands, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Ready to go?”

You nodded and Jake led you down to the car. Jake drove your car when the two of you were going somewhere because it was easier for you to get into compared to his truck. And he insisted that it was safer for you to sit in the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” you asked Jake, who smiled at you before turning back to the road.

“It’s a surprise.”

“How far is it?” you asked, shifting in your seat.

“It’s not too far.”

Jake drove a few more minutes before pulling into a long driveway. And even though you recognized the name at the entrance to the driveway, it still took you a moment to process it.

“Why did you bring me to the place where Bradley and Emma’s wedding reception was?” you asked softly, more surprised than anything else.

“Well, when it’s not just for hosting weddings. There’s a regular restaurant attached to it.” Jake pulled into a spot before turning off the car. “And this is where we met for the first time.” Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he turned back to you. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, it is,” you reassured him, resting a hand on his arm. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, let’s go,” you insisted, grabbing your purse.

The two of you walked inside and were led to your table, which just happened to be on the back patio. You could see the outdoor bar where you and Jake met for the first time from your seat. Had anyone told you that little conversation on those two stools was going to change your life forever, you never would have believed them.

“You know, I’ve already made a list of everything I want to eat or drink after I have the baby,” you stated, flipping through the menu.

“What are the top three?”

“Beer, salmon rolls, and pepperoni,” you listed off quickly, causing Jake to snort.

“All in one sitting?”

“We’ll see how I’m feeling,” you mused, reaching for your water. The waiter came over and took your orders before walking off again. “Emma called me today and mentioned something about throwing a baby shower for us next month. Or a little after that.”

“Do the dads go to that?” Jake asked, causing you to shrug your shoulders.

“I think we can just do whatever we want. I know that when one of the Kazansky kids had their baby shower, the guys went out and did something together but then they came back and everyone ate together.”

“Whatever you want, we’ll do,” Jake offered, causing you to smile.

“Thank you. But Emma and Phoenix seem like they’ve got it handled. They said it’s returning the favor for me being their maid of honor. And I kind of agreed to let them make it all a surprise.”

“We’re not doing some crazy gender reveal thing, right?” Jake deadpanned.

“No, I told them to not do that,” you chuckled, leaning back in your seat. Folding your hands in front of your bump, you asked, “But you’re okay with waiting still? To find out?”

“The baby’s healthy and you’re healthy and that’s all I care about,” Jake stated seriously. “And it’s not like we can control it either.”

“No, we can’t,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “But what do you think? Are we having a boy or a girl?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Jake lied, earning a look from you. “Alright, alright, I have. But what do you think we’re having?”

“No, because you’re just going to copy me to try and make me happy, even though I don’t care because we’re just guessing at this point and no one can do anything to change it and it doesn’t even matter at the end of the day.” Leaning forward, you added with a smile, “Just tell me, Jake.”

“I think we’re having a girl,” Jake stated quietly after a moment of thought.

“I thought we were too, but then the obstetrician moved the monitor during the ultrasound and now I think that we’re having a boy,” you explained, causing Jake to think about it more. “Like she saw something there and moved it away before it was too obvious.”

“Maybe,” Jake agreed. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He took a sip of his drink before leaning forward with a teasing smile. You cocked an eyebrow as you buttered your slice of bread, shooting him a look right back.

“How are you feeling now? Feel the need to walk in on me in the shower again? Because next time, you can just join me. No need to put on a show about it.”

You scoffed and tossed the crumpled up straw wrapper at Jake in retaliation. A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned forward and lowered your voice.

“Says the man who’s been glancing down at my chest ever since I stepped out of our bedroom.”

“I’m looking at your bump where our child is growing,” Jake insisted seriously, causing your smirk to fade and a sheepish expression to come over your face. “But, my eyes have been taking a pit stop between your bump and your eyes because that dress does make your breasts look perfect.”

You lightly kicked him under the table in retaliation, causing him to laugh. The two of you enjoyed your dinner together and talked all about your plans for the future and the baby. It was a first date on paper, but it was obvious to anyone who looked over at you that there was a long history and strong understanding between the two of you. Jake paid the tab—though you tried to grab it from him—before the two of you got up and walked out to the parking lot.

“So, what do you think?” Jake asked as the two of you threaded your fingers together and slowly swung your hands back and forth. “Will I get a second date?”

“I’ll think about it,” you joked, leaning on Jake as you walked.

“You’ll think about it?” Jake repeated as the two of you got closer to your car.

“Well, it’s only the first date,” you added, shrugging your shoulders and laughing to yourself when you saw Jake’s offended look. “Maybe if you’re a decent kisser, I’ll think about it a little more.”

“Is that a challenge?” Jake asked, gently reaching up to cup your cheek.

“It could be.”

Jake leaned down and tilted your chin up, bringing you in for a soft kiss. He started slowly, teasing you like you teased him a moment ago. And when you started to press against him, deepening the kiss, you could practically feel Jake’s smirk against your lips. Pulling back from your lips, and leaving you wanting more, Jake took a step back.

“And my chances now?”

“I guess I can give you a second date,” you replied before grabbing Jake by the front of his shirt.

Your lips met again and Jake rested his hand on your hips, gently backing you up against your car. He rubbed his hand over the front of your bump before raising it to cup your cheek, purposefully brushing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of the valley between your breasts. And feeling you suck in a breath and press against him further, Jake pulled your lips apart and rested his forehead against your own.

“Any chance that we can continue this back at the apartment?” Jake whispered against your lips.

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, before smirking to yourself. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?” Jake asked, sounding concerned.

“I have this rule,” you teased, leaning back against your car, “that I can’t sleep with a guy after the first date. It’s nothing personal, just one of my rules.”

“And if the guy already got you pregnant? Can you make an exception?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, running a hand down his chest.

You held him in suspense for a moment, even though you honestly wouldn’t have minded if he slid your underwear to the side and done it against your car right then and there. And even though you enjoyed teasing him, you wanted him. You needed him.

Placing your hand over his own, you offered him a genuine, loving smile. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Take me to bed, Jake,” you whispered to him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

When the two of you eventually got back to your shared apartment, you let Jake pull you down the hall and into your bedroom. The two of you gently undressed each other before Jake helped you up and onto the bed.

“You’re not going to be comfortable on your back, are you?” Jake asked as you sat back on your heels.

“Probably not for long,” you agreed as Jake climbed up onto the bed too.

“Then come here,” Jake coaxed, laying on his back.

You crawled over and Jake grabbed your hips, lining the two of you up. Your bump, which wasn’t so small anymore, rested against Jake’s strong chest.

“Tell me if anything hurts or isn’t comfortable and we’ll stop, okay?” he assured you.

“Okay.”

You let out a shaky gasp as Jake pulled your hips down. His hands were strong on your hips and he welcomed the rock of your hips against him. You were a bit worried about suffocating Jake and tried to hold up your weight, but he didn’t slow down until you practically collapsed against his chest.

Jake gently rolled you onto your side and laid down beside you, gently running his fingers down your cheek. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and offered him a giddy smile.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, Jake,” you giggled, “I’m better than alright.”

“I haven’t lost my touch then?”

“Not yet,” you mused, pressing a romantic kiss to his lips.

After taking a moment to recover, you sat up and climbed onto his lap. Jake rested his back against the headboard, letting you set your own pace with his hands there to support you. As your rhythm started to slow until you could only rock your hips, Jake gently rotated the two of you so that your bump rested against a pillow and your weight rested on your hands and knees before he sat up behind you.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Jake told you.

“It’s not enough right now,” you practically whined, pushing back against him.

Jake rolled his hips forward as his lips pressed a searing kiss against your neck, causing you to moan. The two of you quickly lost yourselves in each other until your body tensed up again. You buried your face into the comforter as your body shook. Jake kept moving above you for a few more moments before he let out a low noise and rolled over beside you.

You smiled at him as he laid down and caught his breath. Your eyes fluttered softly in the dim lighting as curled your body into Jake’s warm chest. He could see that you were exhausted and were probably about to fall asleep. Jake leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You should go to the bathroom first before you fall asleep,” Jake suggested, causing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “I can clean up otherwise.”

“Let my legs recover for a second, Seresin. Unless, you want a Bambi on ice situation.”

Jake snorted in reply, causing you to smile.

~~~~~

When Jake got called into Cyclone’s office after completing his training exercises, Jake knew that meant two things—he either fucked up or he did something incredibly amazing. And he couldn’t think of anything that he fucked up lately, so he was hoping that the latter was true.

“Sir,” he greeted Cyclone, standing at attention.

“At ease, Hangman. Please, sit,” Cyclone stated, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

Jake sat down and stared at Cyclone, who seemed relatively at ease. He shifted a few papers around his desk before picking up a folder. Cyclone held it out to Jake, who immediately flipped it open, reading through the documents enclosed.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Seresin,” Cyclone replied, causing Jake to look up from the paperwork. His expression didn’t give away any emotion, but internally Jake was swelling with pride and joy. “It’s well deserved and I’m sure that you’ll do well in your new role.”

“And I’m to remain here?” Jake asked, looking quickly through the papers. “In Miramar?”

“Yes, you will,” Cyclone replied, allowing Jake to relax for a moment. But only for one moment. “Though, I should warn you that your chance of being deployed in the next few months has slightly increased.”

“How slight?”

“I would say guaranteed at some point within the next six months,” Cyclone answered honestly, causing Jake’s joy to disappear in a flash. “Not that it would be for an extended deployment, but you’ll certainly be on a short list, Hangman.”

“I understand, sir,” he stated, looking down at his paperwork.

A note of silence passed between them and Cyclone leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in front of him. Glancing at photos of his own family, Cyclone turned back to Hangman, who was reading through the paperwork in front of him.

“Hondo tells me that your girlfriend is expecting,” Cyclone continued, causing Jake to nod in confirmation, though he kept his gaze focused on the paperwork. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I wish that I could offer you a guarantee, Hangman. Any sort of guarantee.”

“That’s not the industry that we’re in, sir,” Jake replied simply, picking his head up. “I understand that. She understands that.”

“The promotion ceremony is in two weeks. Saturday,” Cyclone responded after a few moments. “I look forward to meeting her then.”

“Yes, sir.”

~~~~~

You walked into your and Jake’s apartment building, and stopped to grab your mail. Unlocking the small mailbox, you pulled the door open and grabbed the small batch of envelopes. You walked over to the elevator as you flipped through them, mentally organizing them.

Bill. Spam. Spam. Bill. More spam. Even more spam. And . . .

You paused, looking at the last envelope. It was blue and shaped like a card, though it wasn’t close to either of your birthdays. Flipping it over, you paused when you saw that the return address was in Texas. And the name Georgia Seresin had to be Jake’s mom’s name, wouldn’t it?

Jake got a card from his mom.

Though you thought it was weird, especially because Jake swore up and down that he didn’t talk to his parents, you brushed it off. It wasn’t addressed to you, so it wasn’t yours to open. You would just tell Jake about it when he got home.

Taking the elevator up, you headed into your apartment. Setting the mail down in the corner, you walked over to the couch and flopped down, exhausted from your day. Turning on the fan that Jake set up on the coffee table for you, you laid down and scrolled through your phone.

And then promptly fell asleep a minute later.

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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months

Text

(tw for mentions of nudity)

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[After days of travelling, fighting and sleeping on rocks, a rest at a tavern is well-earned. Not feeling up to taste the nightlife with your friends, Gale and you retire early. The evening turns into something heartfelt and domestic as you wash his hair and hum a song he's grown all too familiar with.]

As much as Gale loves to be in the centre of your attention, it flusters him. He's grown so used to being the one doting and worshipping that he's quite unsure what to do once the roles are reversed. Is he supposed to gratefully acknowledge your efforts? Or sit twiddling his thumbs, taking whatever you give him?

How does one take affection?, he wonders in the back of his head.

The party downstairs is virtually inaudible to Gale as his mind is focused solely on the tender caress of your hands. The soap suds feel as though they transcend his skin and wash his very spirit clean. Or perhaps that's just what being loved feels like. His back is leisurely leaning against your chest. In some distant fantasy of his, you are reborn as his guardian angel.

I sowed rue in four little gardens In the fifth, I sowed periwinkle for you, Johnny

Your low singing is ringing in his ears the same way the church bell's toll is ringing in the ears of a saint - calling towards home. Gale shivers as your breath, like a ghost of love once cherished, brushes against his hot skin. The soothing sound of your voice is all too fleeting to him. If he could only grab it and bask in it any time he wishes to. Perhaps, if your place was among the stars in the night sky...?

Rue, my rue, I sowed you in the early morning I sowed you happily; grow tall, rue

He sighs, feeling your fingers tug gently at his hair. Whether you're washing it or rinsing, he's not entirely sure. The moment your fingers dragged against his skin, your nails scratched at his scalp, Gale allowed himself to drift into a comfortable limbo - somewhere between sleep and wake, between dream and reality. It is only by the melody of this song you so often sing to yourself that he can be sure he is alive and well. Otherwise, given the inexplicable lightness of his spirit, Gale might have thought he'd died and gone to wherever he deserved to spend his afterlife.

I sowed you, rue, in a wide bed I thought to myself that Johnny might come

Speaking of death: as the saying goes, 'curiosity killed the cat' and Gale, by his nature, can not help himself but die again and again.

"Not that I don't enjoy your little habit," he breaks the silence in a groggy, sleepy voice, "it's quite adorable if I may say so, but do indulge me: what is this song you're singing? I've never heard it before."

"It's a wedding song," you murmur your answer. Gale's breath hitches as he feels your lips stroke the conch of his ear. "In my hometown, there's this tradition of making newlyweds wade through the dancing guests to reach each other. If they manage to hold hands before the song ends, the Gods bless them and they shall be inseparable from that day on. It's weird how..." you hang your voice and sigh heavily, "no matter."

But Gale is quick to dismiss your silly belief that there is something uninteresting about your thoughts. "Whatever is on your mind, I long to hear it." The pleasing tone of his voice is more meaningful than the wizard's actual words.

For a moment, your careful movements come to a halt. He could, of course, protest the sudden lack of soft tugging at his hair or the pleasant scratching of his scalp but all complaints dissipate as Gale feels you resting your chin on top of his shoulder. "When I was younger, just a filly, I thought about the day I would get to nudge my way through the guests," you recall with both sadness and fondness in your voice, "but now I worry whether I will get to see the break of dawn. Odd how life can get."

He wishes to say something suave, to weave sultry words with skill comparable to Astarion's. Alas, he's too overly aware of your naked form glued to his back and your arms casually wrapped around his stomach. Yet again, Gale is flustered. "Oh, I'm no stranger to twisted and, frankly unfathomable, paths of life," he says, feigning glibness. "Having said that, you've managed to survive things most can't even dream of. If I were you, I wouldn't cross a wedding game off the list just yet."

No answer comes from you - at least not a vocal answer. You place a soft peck on top of his shoulder before going back to washing his hair and relishing in the song that reminds you of home.

The rue is withered but Johnny's not here When Sunday comes, I will be dressing up

Considering he has enough explosive energy inside him to level a city, wading through the mob of wedding guests shouldn't be a challenge. Although, if Karlach and Lae'zel are also invited...

But the doubt in Gale's mind doesn't let such fantasies go too far. First of all, would you even want to? Would you actually stand before him and proclaim to the entire world that you will love him for better or worse? As much as he believes you every time you profess your love to him, the longer he wonders about the proverbial 'until death do us part', the more he grows unsure. Because, honestly, out of all the people you've met on your travels, why would it be him? The man who famously makes bad decisions in the name of love?

Rue, my rue, grow green, rue I will cut you on an early Sunday morning

The thing that happens then leaves Gale even more confused about his own feelings and the matter of accepting affection:

You've finished washing his hair, taking your sweet time admiring the streaks of grey. Leaning back, you gently pull him along. His head falls back into the crook of your neck. If Gale had just slightly less self-control, he would have squealed when you kissed his neck and tightened your embrace around his midsection. You're holding him like a toddler holds their favourite stuffed toy and it's... nice.

Thinking about your trapping hug, Gale suddenly remembers something he wanted to share. "Did you know that a periwinkle is also called a Vinca, which means 'to bind'?"

A light-hearted chuckle rumbles in your chest. "Then I better sow a garden full of them for you."

_____

Halsin's version right here!!

(tagging those who shouted, y'all are the pillars of society: @cakenpiewhyohmy @hairlessgoblin @lillithhearts @day-dreaming-goddess @nico-ith @cakeboxie )

Your prayers have been heard!!!! (As though I didn't start writing this immediately after posting Halsin's version)

Changed the song at the last second because my former choice was a little too upbeat for the setting ("Jeleń" by Sutari, if y'all are curious)

#gale x reader #gale x you #gale x tav #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale of waterdeep bg3 #gale of waterdeep fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 x you #gale dekarios fanfiction #gale dekarios fanfic

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lynnlovesthestars · 7 months

Note

Hi! I’m new to your blog and have been loving all of your works!

If you’re comfortable with it, I was wondering how you think Astarion would react/feel about a virgin tav/reader who went through SA when they were younger, and wish to wait until they are both completely ready and comfortable with being intimate?

Hii, I can definitely do it, though i will merge it with another ask I received- asking to write hcs about Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

I will say, making it with the hc has been a little easier on me, usually when i write about SA i spend an insane amount of time making sure i'm comfortable and you (readers) are as well, and i hesitate a lot before publishing it *(queue up scars and blood, that I wrote on an impulse after a nightmare, and it took me a solid week before publishing it)*

ANYWAYS.

ofc I hope this will be of comfort to you, and it won't trigger you.. sometimes all we want is to find solace into our favourite characters, so i wish tonight this will in a way comfort you...

and if anyone needs to vent, or talk, feel free to hit up my dm's, they are a safe space for anyone and i'll always offer up comfort.. we don't need to struggle alone, and sometimes being heard is what we need to make a new step forward<3

As always, my little stars, excercise kindness! we don't know who's gonna pass by this, and we don't know how hard it can be for them.

This being said, I hope you'll like it!

Headcanon: Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

Pairing: Astarion x reader. Warnings: mentions of past trauma and SA. wc: 1.7k

-He starts suspecting something about it around the time of the tiefling party. He had offered to sneak out while everyone was asleep to "enjoy yourselves", but you refused right away. He definitely picked up some involuntary movement you did that told him there was more to the "I'm not ready". You probably flinched or jerked away, usually it would go unnoticed, but Astarion could recognize the subtle harshness hidden behind your reaction.

-He doesn't want to pry into it, as much as he needed to know as much as possible about you- he says for the sake of his undead skin- he wasn't entirely confident you trusted him enough to share your past. Also he wasn't sure he could handle someone confiding in him, but he would never admit it. At the end of the day, all he knew about social interaction were faint memories of his magistrate life, or means to survival. He simply wasn't sure he could have the empathy to deal with someone else's emotions, both in good and in bad.

-When you meet the gur, and you start peering into his past, he can't hide the very obvious rock in the shoe, Cazador and his spawn life, and it is because of the gur that you actually open up to him. When he starts going deeper and deeper into Cazador's orders to him and his repulsion towards sex, you do feel like you can share something so intimate, that's been heavy on you, well since it happened.

-The first time you mention it though, you are very blunt.

-"And honestly I don't know anything else besides disgust for it" He'd admit as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Astarion" You'd start, you wanted to hold his hand to comfort him, cause that kind of pain you knew. "I understand how you feel though. If you need—" He cut you short, anger was bubbling quickly in his stomach. You swore his face almost reddened in anger as he raised his voice.

"No, you don't" He was one sound shirt from hissing at you. "You cannot understand what it feels like" He'd sneer at you. "No one can understand what it feels like to be stripped of your bodily autonomy". In a way the harshness in his voice was like a slap to your face, cause you did in fact know. From the other, you didn't expect your brain to beeline directly towards that sealed drawer in your brain where you tried to hide the haunting memory.

“I went through it myself, you shithead” You got up, uncaring of whatever reaction he could have in that moment, and you just left.

-He was taken aback, on different levels, both because of your sudden shift in mood, because of the blunt reveal, and deep down because he was sorry, though again he’d never admit it out loud.

-You ignored him for the rest of the day, avoiding his stare and disappearing in your tent right after you were done setting camp, and that unsettled him so much that he was weighing the possibility of apologizing cause, of course, he didn’t know.

-You skipped dinner, and even when everyone else was asleep, you didn’t come out from your tent to take your usual nightly walk. The pang of guilt was becoming more like a stab as he saw the light in your tent still burning, and the faint shadow of you moving around restless.

-He prepared a peace offering, a bowl of the leftover stew, as he had to muster the guts to apologize.

-”Sorry, I was an asshole earlier, I brought you food” He blurted out right after he knocked on the wooden support of the tent, and he was surprised when you still let him in.

-Initially it was awkward, cause you were eating and not saying anything, but after a while he mustered up the courage to offer his shoulder to you. “If you even wish to talk” He’d say.

-You told him a bit of what happened, without going too much into detail, since you were still shaken from the memories that resurfaced.

-Since then he started to learn your boundaries: how to catch your attention without startling you, what were triggering topics for you, how you liked physical touch, and how it triggered you as well.

-In a way he becomes very protective of you, especially if you open up more often about your trauma, and you can see it.

-He made sure everyone respected your boundaries, whether it was Gale with his weave thing pulling you too close, or a stranger breathing on your neck, he was always ready to remind them of their place.

-”Don’t you see our dear captain doesn't want to be that close?!” “Keep your hands to yourself, they don't like being grabbed by the wrists” “Get away from her, before I stab you”

-He noticed how you always double checked the perimeter of the camp before the sun would set, and before getting in your tent you’d always look around in the distance, trying to spot if something was out of place. So he joined you in your routine, helping you check around and make sure you were ready in case anything could have happened.

-As you get closer, and you both open up more to each other, he even suggests he moves his tent closer to yours. “I can keep an eye around” Was his explanation, when he first brought it up.

-And it helped so much with your sleep, you felt a little safer.

-If you didn’t feel safe at night, he’d suggest putting your tents together into one. Maybe it was a way to keep you closer, or he needed reassurance, but he made sure you knew you could place your bedroll anywhere as far or as close to him as you liked.

-Eventually as your bond would deepen and deepen, and you’d grow fond of each other, you found yourselves rediscovering your touch together. It started with your fingers tapping on his arm as you were walking, or a strand of your hair being pulled behind your ear. Some nights you’d sit close in your tent, and would hold hands, caress each other’s cheeks, and slowly even reach out for a kiss or two.

-It was a slow process, where you really got to know each other like no one else ever did. You could read each other like a book, yet you never shied away from asking each other for consent for anything.

-”Can I hold your hand” “Can I kiss your cheek” “Can I rest my head on your chest”

-The thing you both struggled with the most, was falling asleep holding each other. You’d panic very quickly when you would feel your chest becoming tighter. He’d move away as quickly as possible, and give you the space you needed.

-When he confesses he has been falling for you, it’s time to approach the very delicate topic of sex. You opened up about the fact that you wanted to wait ‘till you were ready, and he agreed without hesitation. Of course because he understood where you came from, he never asked for any help either, if he’d feel like he needed some release, he’d disappear for a bit and deal with it himself, without making you feel like a burden.

“I just want to make sure we are on the same page on this” You’d say as you crossed your arms, almost as if you wanted to fold yourself in and away. “If you want to have sex, I can’t right now” You’d start saying, but stop on your tracks for a second. “Wait, not that I can’t. I don’t want to have sex at the moment” You’d correct yourself, confident in your statement, he wasn’t even thinking about it, though he respected completely.

“I get it, and it’s okay my love” He’d say, patting your shoulder, and wondering whether he wanted to hold your hand or kiss it, he wanted to let you know he truly understood. “I don’t want to either” He smiled, and in that moment it was like both you two finally breathed. You’d reach for his hand to hold it in yours.

“It’s not because of you though” You wanted to explain to him, you were so close it was something you were ready to share, especially since you were slowly walking towards a different level of intimacy together, he had to know. “I want to do it when we are both ready”

“I understand, my sweet, there’s no need for explanations” He’d smile again, one of his fangs slightly poked out against his lip. “You said you don’t want sex yet, so it’s no”

“I’m a virgin” You’d blurt out, and that was something he didn’t entirely expect.

“Oh” He’d say at first, but as he noticed your cheeks slowly warming up, he pulled you closer to him, his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, I don’t care about it” He’d exhale. “As long as it’s you, I don’t care about anything”

-When you reach Baldur’s Gate and finally you settle in the elfsong tavern, you made sure you always had a corner of time dedicated to helping each other relearn touch.

-You'd lay next to each other in different levels of nakedness depending on how you felt at the moment, and you'd spend your time tracing each other's features. Whenever you'd feel comfortable enough to venture into a new thing, he'd ask for permission.

-"Would you feel comfortable if I touched your hips?" "Can I trace your scars with my fingers?” “May I pull you closer?”

-You didn't fight time, you didn't rush towards sex. It came slowly and it was a process full of ups and downs. Some attempts ended up with you both sobbing, too overwhelmed. Other's ended up with panic attacks. Eventually though, after a lot of work together, you reached a point where you'd be able to make love.

-it was a very soft moment between you two. It involved a lot of comforting, kisses and patience, but it was something so profound, it wasn't only about shared pleasure, but it was about connecting your bodies and your souls. In a way it was like a wedding for you two it was the peak of trust you could have with each other.

-He'd whisper so many times how proud he was of you, how much he loved you, and how glad he was that you were the one that would spend their life with him.

-Tears eventually arrived, they were the tears of two souls that finally had reclaimed a bit of their freedom. It was the cries of someone that was finally healing.

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lxclerc · 2 years

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𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐜𝐬𝟓𝟓 & 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

SUMMARY: you don’t realize what you have till you lose it, a lesson charles had to learn the hard way. REQUESTED: yes WARNING: angst, SMUT, 18+, threesome, oral (both m & f receiving), choking, p in v, unprotected sex, spitting, overtimulation, manhandling, praise kink, degragation, probably some dumbification somewhere in there PAIRING: carlos sainz x reader x charles leclerc WORD COUNT: 7.1k

NOTE: this took so long to finish but i’m just happy it’s done. please know that the only instruction i got from my friend who requested this was "angry charlos smut" after monza and that i probably won't be writing smut like this soon again so soon

part 1: moth to a flame

MASTERLIST

The scene before you now is a familiar one. It’s so awfully familiar that it makes your heart ache again. Staying up and waiting for a call from Charles after a night out isn’t out of ordinary for you but you thought you were both over this. Yet still, waking you up from your slumber was Charles, slurring over his words as he asked you to pick him up, far too drunk to drive and forcing you out of the comfort of your bed as you grabbed your keys.

This time though, you aren’t alone. Carlos had flown over to you after you were unable to travel with the team, desperate to spend time with you before Silverstone. That meant that the last time you saw Carlos was three weeks ago and it's a surprise how much you missed each other terribly. You never talked about it but you both know it isn’t just sex. Carlos may play your body like a violin but he always touches you so gently. He looks after you, notices your small discomfort that he’s quick to amend. He holds you against his chest softly even when you’re not naked.

In the three weeks you were unable to see him, the two of you spend most of your days exchanging texts, your nights with each other on facetime as you sleep and so given the first chance considering you won’t be able to go to him, Carlos offered to fly to you in Monaco and you hadn’t even thought twice before agreeing. Three days together after not seeing each other for three weeks feels far too short, but you’ve gotten greedy. You’d happily take whatever he offers.

That being said, the two of you could be spending doing much more productive things than picking up your best friend from the club. Carlos had told you as much but you know you’re unable to completely abandon him.

It was becoming clear to Carlos though. Despite everything, when Charles calls, you will always come running. Some part of him is willing to acknowledge he’s being unfair. You and Charles have been friends before either of you could talk. You spent nearly your entire life together. And you’ve always been good, always been kind and willing to help. Carlos should have known you wouldn’t just leave Charles to fend for himself.

However, he’s clouded with irrational jealousy at the moment, his hand gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his fist is turning white. Tension rise as you sat quietly in the passenger’s seat, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

You know his anger is justified. He’d be leaving tomorrow morning and you’d promised your night to him. Neither of you are sure when you’ll be able to see each other again. Even this meeting you knew took lots of effort on his part. He canceled so many meetings and appearances, prioritized spending time with you rather than his family and here you were, running back to the arms of a man who never truly valued you instead of spending time with him.

And it’s not like you needed to be the one to pick up Charles. You could have very well called one of his brothers but perhaps it was leftover feelings or perhaps it was the clear broken way in which he said your name. Either way, you’re unable to stomach the thought of passing him off to someone else without knowing if he's okay. The two of you had been through too much for you to do that.

“I can get him myself,” you finally spoke up as Carlos parked in front of the famous Monte Carlo club. You don’t want to bother him more than you already have and he looked annoyed enough as it is. “You can just wait for me here.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow as he met your eyes, instantly causing red to tinge your cheeks. He looks furious but not even that can stop your body from reacting to him. He still looks beautiful even though he looks murderous. Stepping out of the car, he offered you his hand, entwining your fingers together. “Let’s go.”

Carlos may only be wearing a hoodie paired with Nike shorts looking like he just rolled out of bed but everyone still turns to him anyways, whether because they recognized him or simply because he still looks absolutely breathtaking despite the minimal effort in his appearance. Personally, you’re leaning more on the latter.

It didn’t take long to find Charles, the monegasque hunched over a table as his hand gripped a glass of what you can only assume to be alcohol. His cheeks all the way to his neck and ears are red and you can’t help but run to him in worry, immediately attempting to support his body.

He squints at you and you can’t help but take notice of the bags under his eyes. No, this isn’t just some random drinking spree. Charles, more often than not, knows his limit well when it comes to alcohol. He only ever allows himself to get this drunk when he’s determined to force something down. “Y/N?”

“Charles,” you breathe out as Carlos reaches the two of you, looking significantly more annoyed as you try to hoist your best friend over your shoulder. “On va te ramener chez toi.” Let’s get you home.

Carlos removes his teammate’s weight off of you, placing an arm around his shoulder as the two of you all but drag him out of the club, aware of the many many eyes trained on the three of you.

“Je veux rester avec toi,” Charles muttered, slurring over his own words. “Tu m'as manqué.” Want to stay with you…Missed you.

You turned to your spaniard companion, hoping he isn’t able to piece your conversation together, but Carlos is staring right ahead, making a point not to look at you as he jaw clenched, entire body stiff with unreleased tension.

How many times will you run to Charles? How many times will you drop Carlos’ hand? How many times will you cancel plans? Would Carlos have to settle for this? Would he always come second best after his teammate? Second driver, second lover, second choice. Always coming second, alway too late.

After the two of you buckle Charles in the backseat, you reach for him, placing your hand against his cheek as you all but force him to face you. He looks tired, probably as tired as you do but he still looks beautiful anyways. Carlos Sainz is ethereal. There’s simply no other way to describe him. From his perfectly arched brows to his tan skin, he’s all you’ve ever dreamed about.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice low and a little bit terrified and the sight of you trying to make yourself look smaller next to him all but breaks Carlos’ heart.

You don’t seem to understand that with him, you’ll never have to make yourself small. With him, you’ll never have to try and take as little space as possible. You never have to lower your voice or speak gentler in fear of inconveniencing him. With him, you can be you; fully and unapologetically and he’ll still find you to be the most beautiful girl to exist.

You are nothing short of perfect in Carlos’ eyes. Even if you’re breaking his heart.

He grabs your hand on his cheek, entwining your fingers together as he plants a soft kiss on your knuckle. No words need to be said as he starts up the car and pulls out of the parking lot, his hold on your hand seemingly only getting tighter, terrified of the possibility that you might let go again.

—

Returning to your apartment, you let Carlos carry Charles inside, flopping him down on your uncomfortable couch. You kneel before your best friend, lightly removing his shoes and putting a pillow under his head.

“Y/N,” Charles muttered, eyes fluttering.

“Va dormir,” you tell him softly. Go to sleep.

Charles seemingly hummed something under his breath, a confirmation you thought as you stood up, more than ready to return to the comfort of your bed before Carlos’ flight in a few hours.

“Y/N.” And yet just as you’re about to turn, Charles’ hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping your movement and forcing you to look back at him. He’s still as drunk as he had been but his eyes are open now, green eyes you used to adore staring back at you. “You’re so beautiful.”

You freeze. Of course he’s called you beautiful before but not like he’s doing now, not with how he’s looking at you now. You can practically feel Carlos’ stare at the side of your head as you swallow the lump in your throat. “Go to sleep, Charles.”

But he’s still not letting go of your hand, only staring at you as though he’s seeing you again for the first time. He’s looking at you as if you’ve transformed into someone new, someone he doesn’t recognize, but someone that has him staring in awe. “I’m in love with you.”

You’d be able to hear a pin drop with the silence that enveloped the room but you’re only frozen in place, the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly ever since you could remember only seemingly breaking your heart. A part of you, the part of you from years ago, is desperate to say it back, to jump into his arms and let him make everything better.

But the you now, the you that had touched Carlos, that let him touch you, the you that have laid with him from the other side of the world with your phone cameras on giggling the night away till your stomachs ache and your cheeks hurt from smiling, refuses to let you open your mouth. Charles may have been your past and for the longest time, you so desperately hoped he’d be your future but the truth remains that Carlos is your present and everything in you wishes he’d be more than that.

And so you stood there, in between the two men, one holding your hand and the other holding your heart.

But the silence is broken as Carlos pushes himself away from the wall he was leaning at, not even bothering to look at you as he went into your bedroom, slamming the door behind him and leaving you in shock.

How you ended up in this situation, you aren’t too sure but you can only hope Charles is speaking nonsense in his drunken stupor. In the silence, Charles had laid back down, breathing already even as he slept so peacefully after having dropped your hand moments ago, not at all aware of the mess he’s created.

You sigh, stepping away from Charles and going into your room to find Carlos folding up his clothes as he fixes his luggage. He looks as tired as you felt and you don’t hesitate walking behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso as you place your chin on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to leave yet,” you whisper against his shoulder, a slight tremor in your voice.

But Carlos only steps away from your hold, continuing to shove his clothes back in his luggage in an attempt to collect his thoughts as you sit down at the edge of the bed wondering how what was an amazing three day break turned into this.

Eventually, Carlos faces you, lightly tugging on his hair in frustration as the sad look in your eyes tugged at his heartstrings. He's always been in control. In control of his life, of his car, of his emotions. But when he looks at you, he feels helpless. You hold so much power over him and you don't even realize it.

“You have to figure out what you want, Amor, because I want you. But do you want me or do you want him?”

The thought of how much he's willing to give and to do for you is almost frightening.

“Carlos–”

But he cut you off as he walked over to you, holding your cheeks in his hands as he planted a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed his luggage and walked out.

—

When the sun shined the morning after with Charles beginning to wake, you were already up, a cup of coffee warming your hands and dark bags under your eyes. There’s a glass of water and pain medicine waiting for Charles once he finally manages to get himself up.

You’re wearing an oversized shirt that reaches your thigh, one that obviously doesn’t belong to you, a fact that Charles tried his best to ignore as he took his seat before you. “Bonjour. Je suis désolé pour la nuit dernière.” Good morning…I’m sorry for last night.

You only hummed in response, mind still racing. Without Carlos, you weren’t able to sleep at all, his last words echoing in your head along with Charles’. All you can think about is how the two of you had planned to check out a newly opened cafe down monte carlo today before his flight but now you’re left sulking in your kitchen with your hungover best friend.

“Where’s Carlos?” Charles finally had the courage to ask, glancing at your bedroom door as if he’s expecting the Spaniard to appear out of nowhere.

But your voice, a little strained and a lot tired, brings his attention back to the table. “He got an earlier flight.”

“Oh,” was all Charles said. He has a nagging feeling his sudden intrusion is the cause of Carlos’ change of plans, one you’re obviously not happy about if the deep frown on your face is anything to go by.

For a moment, the two of you remain in silence. For the first time in his life, Charles doesn’t know how to talk to you. Your sweet, easy smile that he adores isn’t present, replaced by a frown as you stare at your coffee as though you don’t even notice his presence. Despite being only having a few feet between you, you feel so far away.

Charles knows though. Unfortunately, he isn’t one of those people who conveniently forgets every stupid thing he does or say while drunk. He doesn’t get the luck of forgetting everything when morning comes. Instead, he actually has to live with the embarrassment and consequences of it all.

It’s not like drunken confessions are new for the two of you though. On your 19th birthday as Charles tucked you in bed, making sure to remove your makeup, you had drunkenly confessed just how in love you were with him. He stared at you in shock, movement stilling as he swallowed the lump in his throat before gently letting you know that he can’t offer you anything more than friendship while simultaneously breaking your heart. And after that, you convinced yourself you were content with it. You were content with being in his life, being the one by his side. It didn’t matter how much it hurt or how many nights you spent crying because at least you still have your place by his side. At least you still had him.

When the two of you were 21 after a night out that quickly turned into Charles calling you up to pick him up, he had drunkenly curved himself around you as he made you promise to never leave him. He talked about the future you’ve always dreamt of, one with you walking down the aisle and him being the one waiting for you at the end of the altar. He told you he loved you as the two of you slept with your hands entwined, a new kind of hope that ignited in your chest up until he apologized the next morning, telling you it meant nothing and he had just been drunk. It was cruel but you stayed anyway.

You stayed because he needed you. He’s always needed you. He needed you through your childhood, he needed you through your teenage years, he needed you after Jules’ death, he needed you after his father’s death, he needed you after anthoine’s death and now, he needs you still after every bad race. Charles has always needed you but the problem was that he’s never wanted you enough.

“About last night,” he starts, causing you to immediately look up at him, a kind of plea in your eyes. “Y/N, I-”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, your voice shaky. “Don’t say anything. If you don’t say anything, I can pretend it’s just another drunken mistake, one you never meant to make. Please don’t say anything.”

“But I did mean it.” There’s a certain kind of desperateness in Charles’ voice as he says it as though he needed you to hear it. But god you’re so fucking tired of always prioritizing what Charles needs. “I’m in love with you. I think I always have been.”

“Stop,” you tell him, a break in your voice as your eyes pooled with unshed tears but they aren’t sad tears. Instead, they’re angry tears as you look down at him. “It’s unfair, Charles. You’re being so unfair!”

Charles’ head dropped to his hands. What a mess he’d made of things. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t know. You’ll never understand. I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I have always put you first. I stuck through everything. I stayed even though it hurt so fucking much. I have been with you through every girl you liked better than you ever liked me. I waited and waited and fucking waited,” your voice is shaking with anger as the tears falls and Charles hates himself a little bit more with each passing second. “How dare you tell me you’re in love with me now? You are cruel and unfair.”

Charles wanted to cry too. He wanted to hold you. He wanted to go on his knees and apologize for being the world’s biggest idiot. Why did he only realize his feelings for you just as he lost you? There was nothing else to say. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“You’re not in love with me, Charles,” you said, sounding so sure as if it’s a mere fact of the universe. “You’re not in love with me. You just hate that I’m not in love with you anymore.”

—

Despite what the world thinks, Carlos Sainz is a wicked man. He’s territorial and possessive. His wants are primal and like any predator, Carlos will haunt and stalk, claim and mark. And there’s nothing he wants more than he wants you.

And Charles Leclerc is a hindrance, a bump on the road. The moment you arrived on his doorstep, apologies in your eyes as you declare yourself as his, Carlos could barely keep his hands off you. The next race weekend, you had appeared in the paddock in a skimpy dress showing off the marks on your skin as Carlos sent Charles an arrogant smile.

It was a little bit ridiculous, so much so that the team and fans alike are starting to take notice of the tension between the two Ferrari drivers. Whereas they were able to keep work and private matters separate before, they struggle now. Carlos is arrogant and Charles is bitter. Carlos, whose arms are always around you, whose lips are always on your skin, whose scent follows you like it’s engraved in your DNA, has seemingly done everything he can to show Charles that he’s won. It’s him you chose and Charles you left behind.

Charles, for his part, hasn't been doing much to relieve the tension. He has no problem reminding Carlos it’s him you loved first, it’s him you spent every milestone with, it’s him with you in every childhood memory, that he is a part of you as much as Carlos is.

Of course though, everything must come to an end and it all seems to boil over in Silverstone. The unbearable tension only seems to thicken as the race comes to a close with Carlos taking his first ever win and Charles getting nothing but P4.

The moment he stepped down on the podium, Carlos was on you like a starved man. His hold on you is bruising, his kisses demanding and you absolutely loved it.

“Carlos–” you start but he cuts you off by connecting your lips together, pushing you against the wall as one of his hands goes on your bare leg.

At that perfect moment, Charles stepped into the hallway, eyes immediately landing on the two of you. He looks disheveled, disappointment written all over his face, a deep contrast to Carlos’ arrogant smirk.

He’s at the top of the world, so much so that he’s ready to put an end to his and Charles’ pissing contest over you and he knows exactly how to do it. “Why don’t you join in?”

Both you and Charles turned to him in disbelief. Join in? The three of you?

Carlos faces you, the same smirk on his face. “You don’t mind that, do you, angel? Why don’t we give Charles a show for being such an amazing teammate today?”

Your cheeks colored pink, the idea of four hands on you turning you on more than you’ll ever admit. Shyly, you shake your head.

But Charles is still frozen in place, the undeniable tightness in his pants becoming hard to ignore as you all but grind against Carlos race suit, looking so desperate and needy that he just wanted to fuck you there and there.

“What do you say, mate?” Carlos asks again, hand rising to cup your breast. “I’ll teach you all about making her cum.”

And that does the trick. His pride and ego refuses to let that one go, having taken enough beating today than any man would ever like. He can make you cum on his own, thank you very fucking much.

That seems to put him into motion as the three of you enter Carlos’ drivers’ room, Charles’ lips eagerly going to your neck as Carlos claims your mouth.

Carlos’ hands on you are firm and demanding, keeping your body pressed up against his despite Charles’ hands placing themselves on your waist, his chest hitting your back as he planted feathery kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. Charles’ touch is so soft, so hesitant as though he’s terrified you’d break if he pressed a little harder but Carlos’ is so demanding, so firm as though you’re his to touch and use.

“Get on your knees, hermosa,” Carlos tells you, pulling at your lower lip before he finally let go of you, a smirk on his face. “Let’s show Charles what he’s been missing.”

Charles watched the way you stared up at him under your lashes, looking like the perfect picture of innocence if only you weren't moving to kneel in front of him, nimble fingers working to push his race suit down.

He’s not too proud to admit that he’s dreamt about this for too long, wondering exactly how your hands and mouth would feel around him. And he’s definitely not too proud to admit that even way back in his teenage years before any of you truly understood what love meant, the exact sight of you right now were the ones to fill his fantasies at night.

Charles hissed the moment your hand wrapped around his cock, making Carlos smirk at the simple reaction as he sat himself on the couch, watching the way your eyes are trained on him instead of the man who’s cock you’re holding.

Even when giving a blowjob, your eyes will always follow Carlos.

“Go on, angel,” Carlos encourages, reaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear as your hand starts moving up and down. “Get him off.”

Charles can almost see the immediate change in you upon Carlos’ demand, your movements becoming more assured as he throws his head back, unknowingly reaching to tug at your hair. And when you put his tip against your tongue, he’s sure he’s in heaven, your warm lips wrapping around him as you bob your head up and down with Carlos reaching to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

There’s a cheeky grin on Carlos’ face that infuriates Charles more than he’d like to admit – as though he doesn’t feel threatened at all despite the fact that you’re on your knees for him.

“Going to ruin you, corazon,” Carlos muttered against your ear as he moved by you, planting a kiss on the sensitive skin below your ear. “You want that?”

You’re quick to nod your head, the vibration causing Charles to hiss again as he couldn’t help the way he thrusted into your mouth, feeling his release coming as you take him as far as you could go, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

With him hanging dangerously close to the edge, Charles pulled himself out of your mouth, groaning at the way you’re staring at him as though you’re wondering if you’ve done something wrong.

Carlos only laughs as he gently guides you so you’re leaning against his chest, not wasting any time in pulling your shirt off of you. “Come on, mate. I’ll even give you first taste.”

God, Charles hated how cocky Carlos sounded. He also hated how self assured the Spaniard is when it came to handling your body, not a single second of hesitation in his movements as his thumb started flicking at your nipples, making you throw your head against his shoulder. Carlos knows exactly how to touch you to make you want more, to get a reaction out of you and he has no problems reminding Charles of it.

And Charles realized exactly what had spurred this on. Letting him have a taste of you didn’t come from the goodness of Carlos’ heart. Rather, it’s all part of his plan to show Charles exactly where he stands.

Carlos isn’t threatened because Charles may get to have you today but Carlos gets to have you anytime and wherever he wants.

And if Charles had any ounce of self respect, he would have turned around now and told his teammate to get lost but he’s never claimed to be smart and so he kneels before you, pushing your legs apart.

“Can I take it off, ma belle?” He asked softly and Carlos nearly laughed again.

Nonetheless, you nod your head and Charles doesn’t waste any time removing your pants. He lays on his stomach, nose ghosting over your clothed cunt which makes you let out a whimper.

“Please,” you all but scream out as Charles blows air into your cunt, teasing you as much as he could.

Carlos’ hand wraps itself around your neck, squeezing just enough to shut you up. “What did I say about whimpering, hermosa?”

And Charles absolutely hated the way it’s so natural for you to heed Carlos’ orders. He hates how much control the Spaniard has over you and he hates Carlos for playing such a cruel and elaborate joke.

Finally, Charles removed your underwear, chucking it somewhere behind him and the cold air hit your most sensitive area, causing you to erupt in shivers. His finger is slow when it comes to touching you, ghosting over your clit before it eventually pressed down, gathering your wetness and spreading all over your cunt

Your hands gripped at Charles' hair as his finger entered you, pumping in and out as his tongue circled your clit.

“Fuck,” you breath out, eyes rolling at the back of your head.

“What did I say about making noise?” Carlos taunts, his hand around your neck tightening for a fraction of a second. “Stupid already?”

You only grunt in response as Charles’ added another finger, scissoring them inside you in order to stretch your hole.

Carlos brought his lips on yours and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as you eagerly kissed him back. Charles fingers and mouth are igniting your body but he’s moving too slowly, not giving you enough stimulation and friction to chase after. You’re so used to Carlos’ usual brutal pace, never truly giving you enough chance to breathe as he goes down on you that Charles’ careful movements aren't bringing you as close to the edge as you’d like.

Carlos must have noticed the lack of your breathless panting because he’s smirking again before turning to Charles. “She likes it rough, mate.”

Charles looks annoyed, not having appreciated being guided or interrupted. “Fuck off.”

But nevertheless, Charles’ fingers quicken, so much so that you’re suddenly gripping Carlos’ thighs, nails digging on his skin as Charles hadn’t bothered warning you before he added a third finger in, pumping in and out of you at such a brutal pace that you instinctively attempt to close your legs only for Charles to pry them open as his thumb worked on your clit.

The Monegasque is nibbling and sucking on the skin on your thigh, leaving marks and trailing kisses as if his fingers aren't abusing you.

“Look so pretty like this, angel,” Charles tells you, eyes clouded with lust as he watches the way your body shakes, your walls clenching around his fingers and alerting him that you’re nearing your orgasm.

Carlos cooed at you. “I think she looks like a common whore. Letting us both touch you like this. You like this, baby? You like being shared?”

You barely have enough sense to form coherent thoughts, much less to actually answer him but Carlos never did like being ignored, his fingers pinching at your nipple, the shot of pain bringing a little bit of your sense back as Charles’ fingers doesn’t stop assaulting your cunt, so stretched out that he’s slipping so easily right in.

“Answer him like a good girl, baby,” Charles tells you, pretty green eyes staring straight at you.

God, their contrasting personalities might just be the death of you. “Y-yeah. Fucking love it.”

“Watch your mouth,” Carlos warned lightly but his mouth was on you again before you could even process what he said, swallowing down your moan as you finally let go of the knot that had been forming in your stomach, your cum spilling out of you and into Charles’ hand.

Your body sags against Carlos’ chest as Charles gently pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean. His eyes shut as the taste of you spread on his tongue, so dirty and sweet and everything he’s ever imagined.

But before you could even try and recover, Carlos is already effortlessly removing you away from him, placing you on the cold floor as he situates himself between your spread legs. “One more.”

“No,” you try to protest, much too sensitive to take another one so soon but Carlos seems to find your protest funny as he lets out a chuckle, not bothering to give you a warning before his tongue is diving deep into you.

“We both know you can take more, niña bonita.”

The reminder that the two of you have done this many times before wasn’t what Charles needed as Carlos licked a stripe between your folds.

“Oh my god,” you breath out, breathless as your hand flies to his hair.

Charles' hand reached towards you, cupping your jaw as he all but forced you to face him before meeting your lips, his hand going to your right breast and squeezing a little. But Carlos refuses to give you a second to breathe as he nibbles at your most sensitive bud, catching you completely off guard as an unusual loud moan escapes your lips. “Carlos.”

Carlos is smirking against your clit, his tongue coming in and out of you before lightly sucking on your clit and licking a stripe between your folds. It’s a cruel pattern, one that he’s already perfected as he tugs at your legs, pulling you closer towards him.

“So messy,” Carlos muttered against your cunt, the vibrations from his words causing you another shiver.

But you only whimpered in response as Charles’ hand wrapped around himself, slowly pumping as he listened to your soft moans.

You were already shamelessly close. It’s never been hard for Carlos to bring you to your orgasm after all and nothing is processing in your brain apart from the overwhelming pleasure his mouth is giving you, knowing exactly what spots to hit and which movements to do in order to have you moaning out.

“I’m coming,” you muttered, only having half a mind as you’re all but lost in the pleasure, your vision blurry from unshed tears.

Carlos’ tongue sped up as his finger entered you, curling for perfectly inside you in order to reach your most pleasurable spot as your body involuntarily arches. You practically squealed as your orgasm approached you, making a mess all over Carlos’ chin.

“God,” you muttered, trying to find the strength to lift your head in order to look at him as your breaths came in pants, your legs shaking and having turned into pure jelly.

But Carlos is smirking at you, that mischievous glint in his eyes ever present. “I’m not done, cariño.”

He said it so simply and in your dazed out state, you hadn’t even gotten the chance to process his words before his mouth is back on you again, causing you to instinctively try and crawl away from him but Carlos hold on you remains, arms wrapping around your legs as he pulls you back at him.

You flinch when Carlos’ tongue returns on you and Charles’ hand pumping his cock quickens as strangled moans and grunts escape your lips. The sight of you like this, looking so fucked drunk despite not having been fucked yet, is one he wants to engraved in his mind. You’re gripping air as Carlos' assault on your cunt returns, so sensitive from your two previous orgasm that you’re nothing but dead weight, having lost all your energy as his tongue sucks and licks.

“I can’t,” you moaned, hips attempting to push you up again but Carlos’ arms pushes you back down, his eyes closed and his facial hair covered in your cum as he eats you out.

Charles throws his head back, his own orgasm coming just in time with your third as his hands quickens, thumb rubbing his tip till both your moans fill the small drivers’ room. As he sprays his cum all over your chest, Carlos guides you to your third orgasm with barely any effort. His tongue only needs to flick at your clit a few times to have you spasming again.

Both you and Charles are panting as you ride out your orgasms.

Carlos seems to pity you, giving you a few moments to catch your breath as he crawls over you, his eyes meeting Charles’ as he lightly taps on your chin, your lips automatically opening as he spits into it, tasting your own arousal mixed with Carlos’ usual minty taste.

If you weren’t so tired, you would have noticed the intense eye contact the two drivers were sharing, one with a smirk on his face and the other rolling his eyes. Carlos’ action was clear, a reminder; Charles is only touching you now because Carlos is letting him.

“You think you have one more in you, baby?” Carlos asked, pushing some of your hair back as you shake your head. “We should let Charles have a chance at ruining that cunt, don’t you think? Considering this is his only chance.”

You nod, so easily agreeing to Carlos’ words. Charles thought that Carlos could ask you to jump off a cliff and you’d probably ask the best way to come tumbling down. The thought causes an ache in his chest.

Still, Carlos is not cruel. Yes, he likes control and yes, he often pushes you to your limit whenever it comes to sex but he does genuinely care for you. It’s obvious in the way he grabbed a water bottle, tapping at your chin again for you to open up before gently tipping the contents of the bottle over, wiping the droplets of water that fell to your chin with his thumb. When you aren’t fucking each other like catholic rabbits, Carlos’ hold on you is always gentle, always careful as though he’s terrified of dropping you.

Maybe Charles was still holding out hope that what the two of you had was only sex. Maybe he wished Carlos didn’t care for you so he can find some way to steal you back but watching the two of you now, it’s obvious to Charles that he couldn’t be more wrong. This is more than sex, more than any physical relationship.

It was a slap to the face that he truly had lost you.

“Why don’t you give Charles a show and ride him?” Carlos suggested after you’ve rested enough to be able to hold your head up again.

You nod again, already crawling over to Charles. It’s a miracle you even have the energy to do so as you straddle him, your childhood best friend’s hands immediately placing on your hips as he guides you. It’s easy to sink into him, his cock easily sliding into you due to the amount of cum still covering your folds.

Your forehead falls to his shoulder, feeling so filled up and tired as you let yourself adjust to his size. It feels entirely different from Carlos’ but you realize you don’t mind. Charles is breathing heavily, his lips trailing kisses on your neck.

There’s a deep contrast between how Charles and Carlos fucks. Carlos likes being in control, always demanding and mocking. You love it though. You love the way he plays your body as though he’d studied it. You love that he knows exactly where to touch and nibble to have you whimpering. You love the cocky way he tells you to keep quiet. You love how entirely natural it is to give yourself up to him.

Charles on the other hand, is much softer. He lets you move yourself, giving you time to breath and adjust, enough to make you think you have some sort of control. The firm hands on your hips tells you that you have no control here though. It’s all an illusion.

Eventually, Charles starts guiding you up and down his length, the friction making you moan out as he grazes your clit.

Carlos is sitting before the two of you, watching intently in the way Charles’ cock disappears in your cunt, arms crossed over his chest and his legs spread, showing off his obvious hard on. There isn’t an ounce of jealousy in his eyes though, instead they’re lust filled as they watched the way your body moved, the way your skin glistened with sweat. He doesn’t even bother to tell you off for making so much noise.

Carlos is not insecure. He never has been. He knows what he can do, he knows how he looks and he definitely knows how to please a woman. There’s never been any reason for him to be insecure of anyone and Charles is no different. At the end of the day, it’s his bed you fall into every night, him who gets to hold you, him who gets to fuck you whenever he wants. He’s already won and he knows there’s no reason for jealousy, not when you’re looking at him like that as another man fucks you as if you wished it’s him instead.

Charles knows you’re spent and so he does all the work, effortlessly lifting you up and down his cock as he throws his head back. You’re sure there’ll be bruises tomorrow but at the moment, nothing matters more than your fourth orgasm of the night.

“Fuck,” you moaned when he hits that part of you, your nails digging into his back. There would be scratches tomorrow but Charles couldn’t care less.

“You’re doing so good, mon ange,” Charles mutters against your skin, his movements becoming erratic as he meets you halfway, thrusting up in order to go deeper. “So fucking beautiful like this. Looking like the perfect little slut.”

And god, the degradation went straight to your core, making you moan out as you can feel your orgasm coming to you, your tight walls squeezing him that Charles had to bite on your shoulder in order to muffle his noise.

In front of you, Carlos is still watching, face emotionless apart from the smirk painting his lips. “She’s amazing, isn’t she, mate? You should see when she’s on her knees. Fucking heaven. Try to make her squirt.”

The reminder that Charles is only borrowing you for the day isn’t appreciated as the monegasque let out a grunt, one of his hands leaving your hip and going between the two of you where your bodies meet. His thumb is immediately on your clit, flicking and rubbing in circles as he chases your orgasm.

His movement is getting sloppy, more desperate as he thrusts into you, hitting parts of you that had you screaming out as you tug on his hair.

It feels like an explosion when your orgasm finally came, squirting all over Charles and the floor as your body falls against his in exhaustion, your cheeks red from the mess you made but far too tired to truly be embarrassed.

“Fuck,” Charles mutters, breathing as heavily as you as he holds you against him, holding your shaking form against him as the two of you catch your breath.

“Bravo, Charlie!” There’s mocking in Carlos’ voice as he says it along with amusement, his dick nearly painfully hard. You'll barely notice from his face though, looking so incredibly put together and in control that you wouldn’t have thought he just gave you two orgasms in a matter of seconds a few minutes ago.

You feel as though you could faint from how exhausted you are, your body so completely spent that you can barely feel your limbs attached to you. But still, you force yourself out of Charles’ hold and crawled into Carlos’ arms, releasing a sigh of relief as the Spaniard wrapped himself around you, your naked body pressed against him and your head buried at the crook of his neck.

Carlos smiles at you, planting the usual gentle kiss on your temple as he removes the hair clinging to your sticky, sweaty skin. “You did amazing, amor.”

You only hummed in response, trying to get comfortable as his scent warfed around you, immediately relaxing your muscles.

And all the while, Charles watched as he realized that he truly had lost you.

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