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#should i get a second-hand kindle or something
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I love your writing. If you want to, could you write something about an asexual hero x incubus/succubus.
"How come you're not trying to seduce me?"
"Excuse me?" The incubus turned to face them. He really did look like the kind of fairytale that ended up in broken hearts; too beautiful to be quite believable.
The protagonist swallowed. "How come you're not trying to seduce me?"
"...you're asexual. You're not going to be seduced by me. You're not going to be dinner."
"Some asexual people are very sex positive, I'll have you know. Big libido. All the kinky fantasies. Love all the incubi fun times."
"Are you one of those asexual people?"
"I'm just saying, it would be nice to get a bit of effort. I'm supposed to be your date tonight."
The incubus blinked.
"Just forget it!" the protagonist snapped.
"Are you feeling neglected?"
"I said forget it."
"Because I can certainly try and seduce you." The incubi's voice switched tone entirely; a rough octave drop perfect-made for silken sheets and slips. His hand pressed warm against the protagonist's waist, drawing them in, strong and sure.
The protagonist's breath caught because - well, sex was sex, but this. The electricity. The possibility. The giddy, intoxicating feeling of being the only thing that those eyes wanted to see, above everything else in the room.
The incubus could have anyone they wanted. It was stupid. It was embarrassing. They never should have said anything.
God, they wanted more of it.
They wanted the incubus to pick them out of a crowd and lead them onto the dance floor. They wanted the dips and the romance; the roses and all of their thorns.
They wanted everyone's eyes to stop skimming over them, the second they heard the word 'asexual', and they knew that was wrong but...
The incubi's lips dragged hot against their throat, pressing against the shell of their ear.
"The problem," the incubus murmured, "is that I rather like you, and I'd rather not kill you."
It snapped them out of the fantasy to - to the incubus's eyes, warm and amused and something else entirely. To the kindling-curl of the incubus's lip, dragging the protagonist's mouth helplessly up into a matching smile.
"You like me?" the protagonist managed.
"I invited you here."
"I just thought you wanted a buffer. Someone who didn't helplessly throw themselves at you."
The incubi raised a brow. "And that pique of...whatever that was...was you being totally cool and not desiring me in anyway whatsoever?"
The protagonist opened their mouth. They closed it. They wanted the floor to swallow them. "Well, I still don't want to sleep with you!"
"Well, thank god," the incubi replied. He flipped the protagonist's hand, pressing a kiss to their knuckles, holding their eyes. "Now come dance. We've got a scheme to foil, don't we, my hero?"
My hero. They could get entirely too used to that. The incubus looked like he knew that.
"You're a bastard," the protagonist said.
"Mm. And you're seduced." The incubus's grin was a wicked, entirely delighted thing.
"Such a bastard."
The incubus winked, and dragged them out onto the dance floor.
At least for the night, for five minutes, the protagonist felt like the story they'd always wanted to be.
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There have been times when Cassandra’s ribs have felt rather like kindling. Bruised, weak all over, a flick away from splintering into shards and puncturing her lungs and her heart and the very diaphragm that powers her breath. Right now doesn’t quite muster up the same level of agony, but Dick sure is trying his hardest to get her there. 
“You have to roll into it, Cass,” he says, for practically the hundredth time. 
She grits her teeth and replies, “I’m trying. It’s a metal circle.”
“And you’re treating it like a weapon to use in a fight,” Dick says, loping beside her with an exasperated sort of grin, one that settles comfortably in the years of his hard-earned patience. He’s only wearing a simple t-shirt and joggers, which she cannot understand for the life of her. Cass is bundled up in two layers with socks and has thick leg warmers covering her knees—or more importantly, the backs of her knees. (She can still somehow feel watercolor bruises painting on that tender skin.)
She taps out, hooking her legs over the bottom of the lyra before flipping out. Moving slightly to the side, she sinks onto the plush mat on the floor of Dick’s studio, arms stretched back and basking in the low sunlight coming from the large windows. Or possibly just basking in the air conditioning.
Dick slips down beside her and hands her a bottle of water, which she sips gratefully. “I’d say you were close that time, but…” Cass glares at him and he chuckles, hands up in mock-surrender. “All right, all right. But you want a word of advice?”
He says this casually, throwing out the words as if he doesn’t expect his siblings to take him up on the offer. Like he doesn’t realize his life is a masterclass in performance, the sort of thing a symphony orchestra proudly tunes before a miraculous, miraculous song. Like the years of his experience he’s so laboriously built doesn’t make the rest of them froth at the mouth, beg with open palms for Dick to plant his knowledge in their grasp, as much as they may deny it. Hungry dogs, the lot of them, gazing up at Dick’s flawed perfection. The brilliant bastard. Fucking prince amongst men. 
As if Cass wouldn’t want his advice.
“Sure,” she says.
“You shouldn’t be fighting the lyra every second to be exactly where you want it to be,” Dick remarks. “Not to be a bit obvious, but—I mean it’s a metal hoop suspended from the ceiling. It’s gonna spin. It’s gonna move. Your balance is perfect, better than mine, but you have to carry that momentum through. You can’t just stay still. You have to flow with it.”
In half confusion and half accusation, Cass tells him, “You do not ‘flow with it.’ I see you. You plan every move.”
At that, Dick snorts. “Yeah, okay. Every part of me is in control when I’m on the lyra, sure. But I’m not—well, I plan the things I can’t plan.”
Her brother has said many nonsensical things in the years she’s known him, but this one completely boggles her brain. She makes sure her face conveys as such to him.
“The hoop’s gonna spin, no matter what, right? But I can control how fast it’ll move with how I move, and can even set the spin myself if I touch down,” Dick explains, fingers gesturing in the air. She can see he’s buffed his calluses recently. “You’re in the air, so of course the places where you’re keeping in contact with the hoop are gonna feel pressure. But you move with the hoop so that you’re not just balancing against one spot for too long and bruising yourself. You should roll along the curve of the hoop however fast or slow you need to land exactly where you want to be for the next part. Does that make sense?”
Not…completely. Cass is someone who needs to do something to fully understand it, needs to get up and feel the lyra in the way Dick is talking about, let it kiss her bones and ripple out to the tips of her fingers. But what she does have down for memory, imprinted into the backs of her eyelids and carved into the grooves of her brain, are fights.
And when Dick fights, he’s well-trained and disciplined. Every move is calculated, but within those calculations are measures of uncertainty. Like a window fogged with potential or a drop of ocean water straining to reach the topmost peak of a jetty. Dick’s not averse to improvisation, builds it into the many layers of his plans. It’s what makes his combat style the most infallible of all of them, in the long run.
“You fight like jazz,” Cass tells him.
And he throws his head back and laughs, like he knows exactly what she means. He probably does.  “Thanks Cass,” he says, eyes twinkling. “Now c’mon. Let’s try again. Remember: roll with it.”
--
i am incapable of not praising this man at every given opportunity. goddamn. anyway
@dickgraysonweek dick grayson week day 5: everyone's favorite brother | harem of older men | aerial sports/arts
taglist: @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical @queenofbooknerds @scattered-winter @amillionandonefandoms @amandayetagain
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murdrdocs · 1 year
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east to west | j. sully
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description. when jake has you bent over in front of him with nothing but tree bark to keep you steady, you can barely remember why you were upset in the first place.
includes. SMUT 17+, very slight daddy kink, bratty!reader, fem!reader, choking (once), tail play??, jakes dick glows, they link, they’re also mated, takes place between a1 and a2, no kids, reader has a thing for vampires
a/n: hey! i still exist and i still write full fics lol. this is legit not proofread so ignore any and all mistakes plz i just needed to write something
word count: 3.0k+
There was a fire in your chest.
Its flames creeped up your throat and just lightly scraped the beginnings of your tongue. You could feel the smoke slipping up, burning your eyes and fogging your mind.
The effects were felt all over your body until you couldn’t ignore it. Yet, by the grace of Eywa, you managed to until you and Jake were alone.
Until he had you cornered against a tree and he was visually attempting to keep his glare as soft as possible. You, on the other hand, let it reign free, even hardening your gaze at one point just so he could see how upset you were.
A small disagreement was had between you two and it spiraled completely, until it brought you here: Angry with no desire to fix your attitude.
Which Jake saw.
His arms were crossed over his chest, which steadily rose and fell with calculated breaths. His tongue poked his cheek inside of his mouth. His hair, which has started to loc up, lays over his left shoulder.
Although you wouldn’t admit it, the sight of him had something stirring low in your belly. You wanted to be mad, though, not to be aroused. Instead of focusing on the glowing freckles along Jake’s skin, you thought about all of the reasons you have to be upset with him.
Seemingly understanding that you weren’t going to ease the tension first, Jake spoke.
“What’s wrong with you?”
The simple question does nothing but throw kindling to the fire. Your eyes roll, you cross your arms, and push off of the tree.
“You know what’s wrong, Jake. Stop pretending.” When you began walking away, Jake followed.
“If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Men are so stupid.” Your voice was low enough for the complaint to obviously have been meant for your own ears, yet loud enough to purposefully share it with Jake’s.
He scoffed. “You can’t blame me when you’re pouting and refusing to tell me what’s wrong.”
The ground was soft under your thunderous steps. In your peripheral vision, you could see how it glowed with each step you took, and you would usually take time to appreciate the sight, and thank Eywa for the life that She has given you.
Unfortunately, you can’t find it in yourself to complete such a task now.
Instead, you mumble swears that you haven’t used since you were a rebellious teenager.
Jake’s strides were longer. He caught up to you quicker than you originally expected.
His hand envelopes your wrist, effectively stopping you. You stare ahead, physically biting your tongue while Jake comes around to take up the space in your point of view.
“Talk to me. What’s wrong?” That soft tone. The way it always melts away your anger, even when you don’t want it to.
Your shoulders begin to relax, as does your tough gaze, but the forceful bite on your tongue does nothing. You lean into the tree behind you to put some space between you and Jake.
“You know what.” And you start to question if he even does, but all that thought does is make you more upset because he should know, he’s supposed to know.
Jake sighs and his hand drops from your wrist. He looks away, into the sky or at the forest surrounding you both, but then he looks at you once again.
It takes him a second to speak, but he does eventually. “If you don’t want to tell me, fine. If you want to be a brat, fine.”
The smoke burning your eyes gets stronger, the bite on your tongue gets looser.
“Dickhead.”
It takes a second for the offense to get through his thick skull, but it eventually does. You can see the way heat rises to his face when he understands. Your eyes watch the way his jaw clenches, the veins that protrude from his neck, the way he rolls his shoulders back.
Your head tilts, your eyes squint, and you smile. Because you’re finally getting what you wanted.
He pushed you this far. He pushed you until you wanted some sort of fight or aggression in return.
There’s a second where you wonder what his move is going to be, if he’s even going to make a move.
But he takes a step forward, and stretches a hand out that clasps at the back of your neck. He uses the grip to forcefully pull your lips to his and you’re delighted to taste him.
The fire in your throat moves down to your belly.
Your smirk is known as Jake devours you. He kisses you fiercely, with a ferocity that you can only attempt to reciprocate.
When he pulls away for a breath of air, punctuated with short, chaste kisses, you can’t help but tease. “I’m still pissed at you.”
Jake couldn’t care less. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
Your hands grip at his skin, running along the toned muscles in his shoulders, back, and abdomen. He’s practically bare against you, but you want more, you need more. You’re mewling and moaning into his mouth, the muffled sounds truly showing how riled up and needy you were. You craved nothing more than release at this moment, and you could truly only hope that you hadn’t pushed Jake to the point where he would deny you such a thing.
The way he licks into your mouth and pulls your pelvis flush into his with his free hands hints at you that by denying your own pleasure, he would be denying his as well.
You grind into his stiffening cock to speed the process along.
When Jake detaches from your mouth now, it's to kiss at your jaw and neck. He kisses you feverishly, harshly. His lips suck and his teeth nip. It’s not until the third or fourth time that you get used to the tingle of his canines scraping at your skin.
It’s a jarring thought, but you allow the fantasy of Jake sinking his teeth into you and drawing blood to come to the forefront of your mind. It’s something out of a tale told to you by the older sisters in the clan about creatures who live off of blood and can walk only after eclipse. You remember how the image kept you up at night, and how eventually you wanted someone like that to come for you.
Jake, as a dreamwalker, was possibly the closest to such a myth.
You push your chest into his when his canines graze your skin once more.
“Jake,” you whine. It’s soft, softer than the gentle breeze in the air, but the proximity is not forgiving, and Jake hears.
He chuckles, his breath hot on your already boiling skin. A single kiss is pressed at the spot he was working his mouth on before he pulls back to tilt his head in front of yours. “So now you can speak?”
You don’t say anything, instead deciding that glowering will get your message across.
“Uh uh, don’t go silent on me now.”
The hand Jake had behind your neck comes to the front and rests at the base of your throat, his palm flat against the insides of your collarbones and his fingers resting at a place where they can easily crawl up if need be. His other hand, meanwhile, comes around to the side where his fingers play with your loincloth.
Jake’s wide eyes watches your face as he teases the string, sliding it down your leg only to leave it there and not do anything about it.
Your next sound is a grunt, wordless, yet still showing your frustration.
It only amuses Jake.
“Not giving you what you want,” he leans in and presses his lips to your jaw, kissing a spot just a few hairs away from your ear, “until you tell me what you want.”
His voice is low, deep and slow. He ​​enunciates each syllable, truly ensuring that you understand exactly what he means.
You take a second to consider if Jake is simply teasing, and if he’ll crumble in the end anyway. But then his hips shift back away from yours, and the pressure of his fingers against your skin in both places lessen.
When you try to move yourself forward towards him, Jake uses the hand still at the base of your neck to keep you still. He pushes against you, keeping you away from him, far enough to deprive you of what you want.
You really don’t want to give in, but you understand that you’ll have to.
When you speak, it’s a whisper, “I want you to touch me. To make me feel good, Jake.”
He hums, his head tilts. He considers.
“Is that really what you want, sweetheart? Because I can still hear some of that attitude.”
Jake’s hips push against yours once more and his cock is still stiff and begging for attention against your thigh. He wants you as much as you want him, but he won’t make it easy for you.
You don’t respond. You’re still a little angry, even though the feeling has mostly disappeared until now. You just have to hope that Jake will have mercy.
And by Eywa, it seems that he has at least a little sympathy on you tonight, because he says:
“I guess I’ll have to fuck it out of you.”
And it’s as much of a delightful promise as it is an intimidating threat.
Jake’s hand slides up and wraps around your throat. He squeezes, just for a few seconds, and then lessens his grip to only keep his hand there, reminding you of what he could do if he wanted to.
His other hand slides over the top of your thigh and under your loincloth. When his fingers press into the undergarments you wear beneath the cloth, you can’t keep your hips from pushing towards his hand. He doesn’t mind, it seems, because the movement spurs him on.
He singles out two digits and uses them to slide up and down your clothed slit, separating your lips enough through the fabric to where he can easily locate your clit and give it the attention you so desperately wanted the entire night.
Those sounds from your mouth now are only light and airy in their tone. Your noises are so pretty, Jake eats them up happily. His ears perk up and turn to you, and you can see the insistent swish of his tail behind you.
Your hands come to Jake’s waist, keeping him close to you, and the tip of his tail curls towards you. You take a second, deciding if it’s too bold a move, Jake wasn’t completely used to his Na’Vi body afterall, but you take the risk.
Your hand reaches to his tail. The tips of your fingers graze the end of the muscle and Jake flinches.He stops. Your eyes find his face to see his eyes wide, his eyebrows raised, and his lips parted.
It takes a second, but he nods, once and firm.
You reach for his tail again, and this time he lets your fingertips skirt along his skin. Your fingertips slide and your blunt nails graze, you draw circles and work your touch around the entire circumference.
All the while, Jake matches his circling on your clit to yours on his tail. You watch his ears push back, and his eyes close. It’s a moment of tenderness between the both of you, a moment of softness where you both briefly forget what has you close to fucking in the woods in the night anyway.
You’re the one to remember and remind Jake.
You wrap your hand around the tip of his tail and tug, a mischievous smile on your lips when Jake’s eyes pop open and his ears stick up to the sky.
He glares and you glare back.
Jake makes a move.
His hand removes from your neck and both of them go to the cord that holds your loincloth and undergarments up. He tugs and the fabric slips down your thighs. The slight chill in the air brushes over your wet cunt and your legs spread. Jake is so close, if you could just–
Jake plunges two fingers into your entrance, sliding them to the first knuckle and then giving you a second before he bottoms out.
His fingers are so long and thick and skillful. He’s thrusting and curling them only a few times and you already have a leg hitched over his waist, trying to get him even deeper (you’ve always been excessively greedy).
“Take what I give you, baby.” Jake warns, but he doesn’t protest when your leg presses into his hip.
His free hand moves your top out of the way and you gratefully watch as he lowers his head to your neglected chest.
His lips and tongue circle your aching nipples, sucking and biting just enough to provide stimulation in the form of a delicious combination of pain and pleasure.
Jake continues to work you open, and you appreciate his efforts (truly), but you’re ready for him now.
Instead of telling him that, you drop your leg and tug his loincloth down in a similar fashion that he did yours.
Jake doesn’t bother commenting on it, because your hand is finding the tip of his cock.
You can’t stop staring at it. Your eyes play connect the dots with the freckles that adorn his cock, you especially linger on the ones below his leaking head.
You want to fall to your knees and wrap your lips around him, but you’re both so impatient that that’ll have to wait for another time.
Jake pushes your hand away and you pettishly do the same with his. Your legs spread, and then you decide that’s not enough, so you hike a leg up onto his waist once again.
But Jake fucking laughs at you. He doesn’t chuckle, or snicker, or even giggle. He laughs.
You stare at him dumbfoundedly, almost a little hurt, until he decides that whatever has got him is no longer too funny to prolong speaking and he opens his mouth.
“You’re not getting it like that, sweetheart.”
His large, sticky hand wraps around your calf and he brings your leg down. When his hands find your waist, you know what he means.
You pretend to be upset and reluctant to turn around, but in reality, you're ecstatic.
You turn to face the tree, and brace your hands against the bark while you arch your back.
Jake’s hands rest on your hips after he’s used one to guide his cock to your entrance. He slides in slow, almost too slow, and for a second you think he’s going to fuck you slow.
But then he bottoms out with a rough thrust and it’s only your hands against the tree that keeps you from breaking your nose.
Jake notices. “Careful,” he warns.
“‘M fine.”
It’s all he needs to hear because Jake then starts to fuck you exactly how you’ve wanted it for the past night.
His hips slap against yours, the only sound save for the cicadas is the wetness of your cunt taking him in and letting him go.
You’re tight, squeezing around him, suffocating him. And Jake, ever the verbal one, comments on it.
“So tight. ‘S like a vice, baby. You have no idea how good you feel, d’you? Hmm? You know how good you make daddy feel?”
That stupid fucking nickname that should make you uncomfortable or turn you off, but it unfortunately does the opposite. It makes your back arch further and one of your hands leaves the tree to wrap around your tit.
“I know, Jake. You feel ‘s good, too. So good, Ma’Jake.”
Jake reaches a place you hadn’t even thought possible before he came into your life. His dick curves perfectly, it sits perfectly within you, almost as if he was–
“Made for me, Jake. You were made for me.”
“Yeah. That’s right, sweetheart. Tell me how good I make you feel.”
The words tumble out of your mouth as if you were intoxicated.
“Didn’t think I could ever feel this good until I met you. No one will ever fuck me like you do.”
Jake groans behind you and a deep feeling of satisfaction settles deep within your chest.
There’s only one other thing that can make you feel this satisfied.
“Tsaheylu, Jake. Please!”
The hand on your tit comes around to your queue so you can hold it up for Jake.
You throw a glance over your shoulder just to see the two queues reach out for each other. When they connect, you both gasp.
You immediately feel everything. The way you’re clenching around Jake, the knot he has at the base of his stomach, the heat that warms his entire body. Even deeper than that, you feel the way he feels for you.
The frustration that you’re not sharing, the hope that you’ll help him understand, the deep and intense love for you he has.
Your eyes find his and you can tell he’s feeling everything too. The way his cock hits that spot within you, the way his balls bounce on your clit with each thrust, the intense way arousal meets you from the location of your rendezvous. And of course, he feels your frustration at him, you want to tell him what’s wrong but the pride that keeps you from doing so, and the love in your heart that acts as a reminder, letting you know that no matter what Jake is bonded with you for life. He is yours.
Maintaining eye contact, Jake reaches around to bring his two digits to your clit.
He gives you wide slow circles at first, until he feels just how close you are and then he tightens the movement and speeds it up.
“I need you to cum first, sweetheart. I wanna feel you.”
It doesn’t take long for you to fulfill his wish. You’re cumming with a sharp gasp and heavy breaths. You try to keep your eyes open as the muscles in your body tense and loosen repeatedly, but you can’t help but let them close.
“That’s it, let go for me. Let it all out,” Jake coos, his thrusts at the same speed but his fingers along your clit slowing enough to give you some sort of mercy.
You’re spent, but you still have enough energy to make one last request. “Inside. I want you to let go inside of me.”
It takes only a few more thrusts and then Jake is letting warm spurts of cum coat your fluttering walls. You milk him dry, sighing gratefully and leaning into the feeling that the bond allows you to feel.
When you and Jake are calmed down, he redresses you. You lean against the tree and let him slide your loincloth up and readjust your top. He kisses at your skin while he does so, and when he’s redressed he kisses you.
It’s soft and sweet and the complete opposite of your past moments.
“You still mad at me?” He asks you, a pout on his pretty face.
“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
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moodymelanist · 2 months
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meet me at the altar (in your white dress)
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happy day 3 of @sjmromanceweek everyone! of course I had to get some Nessian in here, you know me!! title from Let's Get Married by Jagged Edge (the remix is much better than the original IMO)
Summary: Nesta and Cassian elope to help take the edge off planning their big, official wedding.
Word Count: 3k
Read on AO3 here!
Summary: Nesta and Cassian elope to help take the edge off planning their big, official wedding. 
♡♡♡♡♡ Nesta
Nesta held in another scream as she clicked through yet another florist’s website, holding back the urge to start banging her head back against the wall. All she’d wanted was to come home from a long day at the office and relax, but instead of being able to destress with a book on her Kindle, she’d ended up dealing with more wedding stuff.
“You really should consider going with more hydrangeas,” her mother was saying. Rhea had called Nesta and essentially ambushed her with more wedding planning; today’s topic of choice was the floral arrangements. “I mean, what even is a ranunculus?”
“They’re a classic wedding flower, Mom,” Nesta replied through gritted teeth. She and Cassian had gotten engaged right before Christmas, and they were in the full swing of things planning wise. No matter how many times she emphasized that this was their wedding, though, it hadn’t stopped Rhea from being her usual, controlling self. “They look like peonies.”
Cassian appeared at the edge of her vision, his face twisted up adorably in sympathy as he came into their bedroom. He’d been as hands on as he could with wedding planning, but there was only so much he could do with Rhea as his future mother-in-law.
Cassian waved to get Nesta’s attention and once she looked over at him, he mouthed, You want me to give you an out?
Yes please, Nesta mouthed back. God, she loved him so much.
Nesta watched from her position on the bed as Cassian came around the corner of the mattress and reached for her nightstand, opening and shutting the drawer loud enough for Rhea to hear it on the phone. To the untrained ear, it sounded similar enough to a door opening and closing, and it was the perfect excuse to get off the phone and take her Friday night back.
“Sorry, Mom,” Nesta said immediately, cutting off whatever tangent Rhea was going on now about the flowers she’d had at her wedding. “Cassian just got home from work. I have to go.”
Rhea was silent for a few seconds. “Fine. I’ll speak to you about this later.”
“Okay. Have a good night,” Nesta replied. Rhea echoed the sentiment, and Nesta immediately tossed her phone away from her. “Holy shit, she drives me crazy.”
“Watching you deal with her is driving me crazy, Nes,” Cassian said. He leaned down to where she was reclining against the headboard and pressed several hello kisses into her lips. “What if we just got married tomorrow or something?”
“What?” Nesta said back, not quite sure she was hearing him correctly. She pulled back to look up at him, but he looked like he was being completely serious, which could not be a possibility right now.
“I said,” Cassian replied, speaking slowly to make sure she caught every word, “what if we just… got married tomorrow?”
She stared at him for several seconds without blinking. “You’re joking, right?”
“No jokes here, sweetheart,” he answered. He stood up to his full height before walking to the edge of the bed and sitting down, resting one of his warm hands on her ankle. “I feel like it would help.”
“How would throwing away months of planning help?” she responded, doing her best to stop her eye from twitching. Once they’d settled on a venue and secured their date, it had been divide and conquer between reaching out to caterers, bakers, florists, makeup and hair stylists, tailors – you name it, they’d talked to someone about pricing and dates and menu options and color schemes. 
“We wouldn’t be throwing away months of planning,” he told her. “I can be an idiot sometimes, but not that big of an idiot.”
“...Okay.” Nesta closed her laptop and gave him her full attention, hoping that he’d eventually tell her something that made sense instead of just confusing her further. “Explain what you mean then, because I don’t think I’m following you.”
“Just hear me out, okay?” Cassian asked. Once Nesta nodded her assent, he started rubbing gentle circles into the delicate skin of her ankle. “Maybe this is dumb, but I was just thinking… maybe it could help take the edge off things. I know your family is breathing down your neck about this being perfect, and I know how stressful this whole thing has been for you. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be us.”
God, he was good at this. He always knew exactly what to say to cut her to the core in the best way, and his words combined with the way those hazel eyes were trained on her made her want to give in immediately. Even though they would be surrounded by loved ones when they got married, something in her had always cringed at the fact that they’d be putting their relationship on display for everyone to see. She loved Cassian, she did, but the idea of having a wedding as big as theirs was shaping up to be felt almost performative. 
If they did what he was suggesting, there wouldn’t be anything performative about it. It would be something for just them; they wouldn’t have to go through any of the hoops that their huge, ornate ceremony was shaping up to entail. Just her, Cassian, and whoever they needed to talk to for it to be official.
“Yeah,” Nesta eventually answered, suddenly fighting back tears at how well he knew her. Even after all these years with him, he still managed to catch her off guard with how thoughtful he was. “
“Yeah?” Cassian echoed. He started to smile and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “Let’s do it.”
♡♡♡♡♡
Surprisingly, it didn’t take long to sort everything out. Cassian booked a hotel for the weekend in Atlantic City while Nesta dug around for a white dress in her closet, and by the time she’d found a suitable enough option, he’d also started the process to get a marriage license.
“It doesn’t take that long to get a New Jersey marriage license,” he told her as they packed their bags for the weekend. “I mean, we’ll still have to sort out the paperwork for when we get married again, but that’s a problem for future us.”
“Okay,” she replied, feeling much lighter now that the pressure for their huge ceremony was suddenly off her shoulders. “We’ll figure it out then.”
It didn’t take them much longer to finish packing, and before Nesta knew it, they were in the car and on their way to Atlantic City. It wasn’t far – roughly two and a half hours – but they stopped for dinner along the way, so they made their way into the hotel lobby about three hours later. The air conditioning was going strong, and Nesta didn’t hesitate before leaning against Cassian’s warm side while they checked into their room.
“You want my jacket?” Cassian asked once they were all squared away and heading to the elevators.
“No, I’m okay,” Nesta answered, leaning into him again while they waited for the elevator to come to the lobby. Besides, he was holding both of their bags; she wasn’t going to make him essentially play Tetris with them to get the damn thing off. “We can just turn the AC down when we get upstairs.”
Their hotel room had all the usual accommodations, including a king-sized bed, and they both showered and changed into pajamas before getting into it. Cassian made sure their room was locked up tight and the AC wasn’t blasting before they got into bed, but even though it wasn’t as cold in the room anymore that didn’t stop Nesta from cuddling up to her fiancé.
“Thanks for going along with my crazy idea, Nes,” Cassian said into the quiet darkness of their room.
“It wasn’t that crazy once you explained it,” Nesta replied softly, reaching up and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “But you’re welcome.”
He just laughed softly, the sound of it vibrating gently against her cheek where she was laying on him. “Love you.”
“Love you too, baby. See you in the morning.”
♡♡♡♡♡
Nesta woke up the next morning wrapped around one of the hotel pillows instead of around her husband-to-be. She experienced a brief moment of panic once she realized she was alone in the room, but it quickly dissipated once she recognized Cassian’s familiar handwriting on one of the hotel’s notepads. She reached for it where he’d left it on the end table and quickly scanned the note he’d left her.
Hey sweetheart, he’d written. Don’t freak out, but it’s bad luck to see the bride on her wedding day, and I’m all about avoiding bad luck. Everything else is getting taken care of (I promise!!) so you just have to bring your gorgeous self to the altar. 
Love you
xoxo,
Cassian (aka your future husband)
Nesta laughed softly to herself as she set the note aside, her heart rate immediately slowing down after she’d read it through a few times. Cassian knew how tired she was of making so many wedding-related decisions and it was such a relief to not have to make any more — for the moment, anywhere. Even if they weren’t doing things the ‘right’ way, he was still looking out for all the little details, and it was stuff like that that made her want to fall in love with him all over again. 
Lucky for her, she’d get to fall in love with him every day for the rest of their lives. 
Nesta let herself lounge in bed for a few more minutes until she couldn’t wait any longer. She took her time getting ready, the hot water from the surprisingly strong shower head waking her all the way up, and she was thankful she’d packed her good blow dryer after she realized the hotel one wasn’t up for the task. Cassian had always loved her hair down, so she carefully smoothed half of it up and left the other half down. 
By the time she finished with her makeup and got dressed, it was almost time to go. She put on her wedges and threw the essentials — lip gloss, powder, room key, phone — into her purse before heading downstairs. She’d missed breakfast, but she managed to snag some Pop Tarts from the convenience store while she waited for her Uber. 
It was a quick ride to the hotel where they were getting married, and Nesta just followed the signs for the wedding area until she found a woman holding a sign with her name on it. She was tall, with dark hair and light brown skin that looked amazing even under the strange hotel lighting.
“Hi,” Nesta said, walking right up to her. “I’m Nesta.”
The woman perked up immediately. “Great! I’m Deirdre, I’ll be officiating the wedding. Cassian handled pretty much everything he could without you, so all you have to do is follow me.”
“Great,” Nesta replied. Her love for Cassian grew even more once she heard she’d hardly have to do anything. “Lead the way.”
Deirdre and Nesta wound their way through the halls, making small talk until they ended up in one of the back rooms. Nesta picked out a small bouquet of lilies, a short veil to wear as she walked down the aisle, and signed some forms. 
“You’re all set,” Deirdre told her once the last thing was signed. “Cassian said he had the rings, so really you just have to get your beautiful self out there and we can get this show on the road.”
“Okay,” Nesta agreed. She wondered if Cassian was using their actual wedding rings, or if he’d found a less expensive replacement for today. Oh well — she didn’t need to worry about it right now, and wasn’t that a relief. “I’m ready.”
Deirdre clapped her hands together and led Nesta through a different path through the halls, the two of them coming to a stop in front of what looked like a chapel. “I’ll go in first, make sure everything’s ready, and then once the music starts you can come in whenever you want. Okay?”
“Sounds good,” Nesta told her, and then she was alone. 
Nesta took a few deep breaths while she waited for Deirdre’s signal. Maybe if it had been anyone else, she might have been more nervous, but it was Cassian waiting for her. How could she feel anything but excited when they were only a few minutes away from forever?
The music started earlier than Nesta had been expecting, but she took it in stride. She squared her shoulders and walked through the door with her head held high, something inside her settling the second she laid eyes on Cassian. He looked handsome as always, dressed in a white button-up shirt and his nicest pair of jeans, and she could tell he was already crying even from across the room. 
There were a few people seated amongst the pews to serve as witnesses, but Nesta tuned out everyone that wasn’t Cassian. The walk down the aisle was simultaneously too long and too short, and suddenly she was handing over her bouquet so she could grip Cassian’s hands in hers. “Hi.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” Cassian said, his eyes a little wide. “You look so beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Nesta said back. She squeezed his hands to help steady them both before turning to Deirdre with an expectant look. “We’re ready.”
Deidre must have gone through all the usual wedding talk, but all Nesta heard was that she and Cassian were promising themselves to one another. Good days and bad, they’d show up for each other no matter what, no matter what kind of fancy ways people wanted to describe it. 
Before Nesta knew it, it was time for the vows. Deirdre turned to her expectantly, and she nodded before she took a deep breath. 
“Cassian,” Nesta started, her eyes tearing up at the force of what she felt for him. They’d both promised to not prepare anything — something about it coming from the heart — and part of her wished she had, just for the sheer difficulty of describing what he meant to her. “You’re the love of my life. My best friend in the entire world. You know me better than anyone else, and I’m so — I’m so thankful to have you. You make me so happy even when you’re being a bastard and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She took another deep breath to steady herself, shooting Cassian a watery smile as he reached up to wipe some of her tears. “You’re the one I want to laugh with and argue with and spend all my time with until we’re old and gray. I promise to choose you every day, no matter what. I love the life we’ve made so much, and I promise to fight for us for the rest of our lives. I love you, Cassian. So much.”
“Jesus, how am I supposed to follow that up,” Cassian muttered to himself. 
Nesta laughed. “I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Nes.” He took a deep breath of his own and met her eyes again. “Nesta, I knew from the minute I met you that you were special. Maybe it’s cheesy, but from that very first glare, I knew I’d be chasing after your attention for the rest of our lives. I’ve never been so happy to be right.”
“You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. You’ve made my life better in so many ways, and I’ll never stop thanking the universe for putting us in each other’s lives. You’re an amazing woman and the fact that you chose me — well. I’ll never take that for granted. It physically hurts me when we’re apart, so the fact that you’re agreeing to be tied to me forever makes me feel pretty damn good. I promise to choose you every single day, to always respect you and cherish you and all the other things that you deserve. I love you so, so much, Nesta. You’re my world.”
They were both crying now, and Nesta squeezed Cassian’s hands so hard it was a miracle he didn’t lose circulation. She swore she could feel the thread that connected them wrap around them even tighter; there was no telling where one of them began and the other one ended. It was just them, and it was beautiful.
“Those were wonderful,” Deirdre told them. “Now, the rings.”
It seemed Cassian had brought out their wedding bands early after all. Both of their hands were shaking as they exchanged rings, but they managed to get through it without dropping anything or putting their rings on the wrong fingers. 
“With that…” Deirdre took a deep breath and beamed at them. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. Nesta barely had any warning before he was grabbing her and dipping her, but he was so strong that she didn’t think he’d drop her for a second. She just threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, clutching him to her as tightly as she could and not planning on letting go for a good long while.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Deirdre said, smiling brightly. “Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” Cassian said with a wide grin once he’d brought Nesta back up. He was so beautiful when he was happy, and part of her still couldn’t believe she was the one to consistently put that smile on his face. “Hey, wife.”
“Hey, husband,” Nesta said back, smiling just as widely as he was. “You ready to get out of here?”
“Like you even have to ask,” he told her. He offered his hand and she took it without hesitation, squeezing tightly as they made their way back down the aisle.
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen | @talibunny30
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shibaraki · 2 years
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WARM BODIES ┊ GOJO SATORU
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tags: GN reader, sick fic, gojo is a big whiny noodle, established (yet unlabelled) relationship, bathing a partner, non sexual nudity, intimacy, fluffy fluff but a smidge of angsty angst
wc: 2k
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“Stop being difficult, Satoru”. 
You readjust your grip around his waist and attempt to take on more of his weight, briefly closing your eyes to silence the need to roll them. If he saw, no doubt he would complain. Satoru is heavy without the exhaustion from sickness, but you can tell he’s purposefully feigning complete helplessness. 
It was not often that he was allowed to exhibit such weakness — if viral infection should fall under the definition of weakness. Satoru had a name, an image, and a certain projection of himself to maintain. Such a divine thing could not falter under trivialities; there was no mourning, sloth or envy. If you are condemned to be a God amongst men, what is there left to long for? 
This. A safe place to fall apart, a warm body to curl against that touches you without ulterior motive. You can tell by the way he indulges in your generous love whenever he can — a spare moment will always be spent with you, kissing you without direction, but most of all, doing nothing aside from breathing one another in. 
When you first met Gojo Satoru a small pip of melancholy buried itself into your chest, took root and grew with every encounter. Back then it felt as if there was no one version of him. You saw his demeanour wane and adjust to those around him, shapeshifting into whatever it was they wanted to see in him. The cajoling and arrogance was the only consistent thread he interwove between those masks, and you realised eventually that that very thread had been the thing keeping his seams together. 
Satoru needed to be strong. In the face of his opponents, his allies, his students and his admirers. To stoke kindling of mutiny, to admonish any small spark of disbelief, that strength must be upheld wherever eyes could see. 
You were under no illusions. From the start, you knew that your ability to see through his façades had been the very quality that magnetised him. And you let it happen, because with every true smile he gave you — fond and small, faint crows feet at the corners of his eyes — the ache in your chest lessened, and he began to look more like a man. Less deific. 
The relationship was almost symbiotic, medicinal. It was also something neither of you ever put a name to. In the unpredictable world you lived in, it was much easier that way. During the months that had passed you saw him in fits of laughter, inconsolable and regretful, scarfing down a hot meal made in your kitchen, frustrated, braced over you and shrouded in want. 
You hadn’t seen him sick, not until today. Part of you once wondered if Satoru could even get sick. 
“Be nicer to me. I’m dying,” he bemoans, nose nuzzling into your crown. You lock your knees as they threaten to buckle. Draping himself over you like a second skin, uncomfortably hot to the touch and slightly breathless between words, Satoru seemed to be both suffering and enjoying his sudden sickness. 
“I wish you would do it quietly then,” you huff, struggling in your short walk to the tub. It is already prepared and full of warm water — halfway, just to be safe. Once the levels expectedly rise around his too-big body, you didn’t fancy having to mop up your bathroom floor. 
“I don’t know how to be quiet… you would know,” he mumbles, voice stretched into a tired drawl despite the effort to sound suggestive. As the sentence ends, you have already bent to settle him on the edge of the bath. 
You stand between his thighs, smoothing both hands along his bare shoulders to steady him. The film of sweat sticks to your palms but you say nothing of it. Thankfully he’s already undressed and only left in his boxers, having shed his clothes hours before amidst the worst of the fever. He’s slouched like a puppet with no strings, and he continues to bend until his face is pressed against your chest. 
“Hey,” your brow creases with worry, any previous frustration quickly dissipating at the sight of him struggling. You bring your fingers to cradle his jaw, and his chin tilts until your eyes meet. “You with me, baby?”
Satoru blinks heavily, Elysian eyes clouded. His skin is flushed pink. Flat, white strands of hair cling to the damp on his forehead. Slow, a blissed out grin spreads across his cheeks at the affectionate pet name. “As long as… you want me,” he replies. 
If this illness isn’t contagious then his boyish grin and poor attempt at flirting certainly is. You smile, resisting the urge to kiss him as you push the hair away from his face, “If you cooperate and help me get you into the bath, then I promise to peel your oranges for you even when we’re old”. 
This promise holds a lot of weight. Satoru hates having sticky fingers. A pleased hum rumbles in his throat, and he leans into your touch. “Don’t know if that’s romantic or manipulative”.
“You’re both of those things,” you snort, pushing the flesh together until his lips jut into an unattractive pout, “all the time”. 
“Touché”.
“Come on, Satoru. Off,” you forgo spoiling him further and reach to tug at the waistband of his briefs, “and in!” 
He’s boneless as he moves, shifting his hips left and then right as he shoves the material down his thighs. You crouch to squeeze beneath his knee in encouragement and slip the underwear over his ankles, feeling entirely at home with him despite the nudity. You half expect him to make a joke about where your eyeline falls, but he only watches you with a quiet reverence that warms you inside and out. 
You had checked the temperature while you’d drawn it. Tepid, around thirty one degrees to be careful, probably cooler now that some time has passed. Satoru turns on axis and lowers himself into the tub with a hand on your arm, the surface rising as it is displaced. 
Any and all rigidity immediately bleeds from his body, breathing a long suffering sigh. The bath is hardly long enough for his legs, but they bend willingly as his mouth disappears beneath the water. You’re quick to support him the further he slips, so taken by the relief that he doesn’t catch himself. 
Water ripples in rings as he exhales through his nose. You are submerged up to your elbows and grateful you’d opted for wearing a vest top, fingers interlocked at his back for support. “That feel better, baby?” you murmur. 
He hums a lazy affirmative and it vibrates through the water. Satoru’s lashes are pearly white like the halo of hair settling around his shoulders, his gaze doleful when he peers up at you. With the tension gone, it’s startling how sickly he looks. 
“This thing has really done a number on you, huh?” internally, you debate when and how you’ll free your hands. Louder than anything was the urge to gently scratch at his scalp, the way you knew he liked. “I don’t like seeing you suffer”. 
His movements echo around the room as he finally finds strength, settling both feet flat to the end of the tub and pushing himself up the other.  “Steady,” you smile, releasing your grip to thumb at the pink line that now cuts across the lower half of his face. 
“Bet I look real ugly,” he rasps in quiet theatrics, head rolling slightly into your palm, “don’t look at me”. His lips purse against the skin there in a brief kiss as you continue to stroke his cheek. 
A laugh bubbles in your chest, but you keep it held. Intuitively, you heard the underlying insecurities. “I like you ugly,” you tell him honestly.  “Sometimes you’re so perfect it’s like looking into the uncanny valley. Now you look like a drenched kitten”.
“Rude,” you feel when the pout spreads into a smile, and he nips lightly at the heel of your hand before kissing the spot again. “You shouldn’t bully a sick person”. 
“Then how about I run a cloth over you instead?” 
The drenched kitten absentmindedly nuzzles his nose along your inner wrist, barely holding himself upright. “…‘Kay,” he murmurs. 
Your arm remains around his back as the other leaves his cheek and reaches for a wash cloth. The water distorts around his body as you dip it beside his hip, pale skin almost comparable to a moonlight's reflection beneath the surface. Your fingertips ghost through the soft hair at his navel, feeling the muscles flinch. 
“Gonna start up top, alright?” you explain, voice low as not to disturb the atmosphere. Stowed away in your narrow bathroom like this, it’s as if the two of you are the only people to exist. 
Satoru’s smile deepens, “Must be nice… getting to feel me up…”. 
“Mhm. Lucky I don’t usually need to get you sick to be able to feel you up,” you tease back, the fabric saturated and dripping over his chest as you stretch to run it along his collarbones. 
“No,” he breathes happily, chin tipping back to rest his head against the edge of the bath, throat bared. “You don’t”. 
You continue to wipe away at his skin in an effort to soothe him and further allay the fever. Gentle, purposeful motions over the lines and curves of his body. Your tender cadence continues as you instruct him to lift his arms, one by one kneading the flesh into smooth dough, accounting for every finger as you bring them to your lips. For each kiss his face further slacks, mouth parted to exhale soft breath, cheeks flush with more than sickness. 
The sight of him flowers love in your chest. It aches, not because it’s empty, but because it is full. “Think if I tell you something while you’re slightly delirious, you’ll forget I said it?” 
The cloth is pleasant on his skin as you wait for his response. It’s your own — one you know he favours and steals when he uses your shower, but adamantly denies doing so. Your caress has lowered over his pink chest to his abdomen, drawing circles into his hip. 
You can see his body naturally reacting to the touch, blood gathering between his legs, but he makes no indication of wanting more. Had he asked, you would have denied him tonight anyway. 
“Maybe,” he mumbles, watching you behind half lidded eyes. He looks benevolent. If you had to choose your favourite version of Satoru, you would pick Contented. 
He’s saying ‘I can’t promise anything’, just without as many words. You laugh warmly, and slide the cloth along his thighs with some finality. Chances are, your doting of him would be material to poke fun at you for the rest of the month. 
Your silence stretches out but he doesn’t press you. Instead you soak the cloth once more and squeeze before patting it across his forehead, wiping the damp hair back before you lean forward to kiss between his brows. The feeling coaxes his eyes shut, and when they do, you dip to kiss each closed lid. A sharp inhale ricochets throughout the room. 
There, the six eyes protected only by a thin layer of skin, you speak. It isn’t a confession of love, but it is as good as any. 
“You’re my favourite person”. 
Moving back just a hair's breadth, they don’t open again. They seem to visibly tighten, a crease forming across the bridge of his nose, like he was trying not to cry. He sighs deeply, smile trembling.
When he replies it is as expected, masked despite catching in his throat. You don’t mind the feigned nonchalance, or his need to shield himself with egotism. Because just as it has been from the start, you can see right through him, as he can through you. 
“‘Course I am,” he says. “I’m Gojo Satoru”.
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clover-blossom · 3 months
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ANIDALA FIC RECOMMENDATIONS- Part 1*
Realized I inadvertently left off several great fics. Stay tuned for Part 2!
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Snowbaird has inspired me to revisit a favorite ship from my younger years. Inspired by @burntblueberrywaffles list, I put together one of my favorites. The vast majority of these are on ff.net BUT BUT BUT remember you can convert them here for download to your Kindle.
The Anakin Saga by geo3
A five part series published before all the prequels were released (so this is an OG). The first two are one shots. The last three are multi-chapter.
The Hour of Souls
The padawan and the Senator find that it is very difficult to be in love when everyone is watching and a shadowy figure is pulling strings....
Step into My Parlor
At the end of Episode II, why, oh why did they let Anakin travel back to Naboo with Padme? It turns out that a certain Dark Lord had something to do with it...
Children of Circumstance
A story about Anakin, his love and his path.
Winds of Change
Early days of the fall... Anakin's path after he is secretly married and returns to the Temple.
Ring of Fire
The final story in the Anakin Saga Series.
Living a Lie by Leah Naberrie
After the forbidden wedding, the reality of living a lie hits the Skywalkers. 
Slight of Hand and Twist of Fate by irnan
"I suppose we should just be grateful they're not planning to televise the investigations," Anakin grouses. "Hmm," Obi-Wan says, too busy playing with Leia to answer him
Purgatory by HelenT
As if the comment Obi-Wan had made to Luke about Anakin ‘dying’ when he became Darth Vader was literally true, a newly dead Vader wakes in a strange world—as a twenty-three year old again. Post ROTJ
Kratisto by Irnan
Collection of ficlets about Anakin Skywalker
Pulse by froovygirl
AU for ROTS. As Padme's life hangs in the balance on Mustafar, a stream of brilliant light causes Anakin to reconsider his choices.
Into the Archives by skygawker
After hearing the legend of Darth Plagueis the Wise from Palpatine, Anakin decides that his best chance to save Padme is to break into the restricted Holocron Vault of the Temple Archives to search for information about Plagueis. Predictably, all does not go according to plan. Revenge of the Sith AU.
No Real Affection  by Meredith Bronwen Mallory 
After the second attempt on Padme's life, the young senator and Anakin find themselves getting to know each other again.
Underneath by CrazyAni
After feroscious duel on Mustafar, ObiWan Kenobi and Darth Vader are given a chance to go back and save Anakin. The Force sends them back to the past, but they wake up in each other's bodies...RotS AU*
*unfinished but worth a read
Part 2
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gaysindistress · 7 months
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As Good a Reason - seven
pairing: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️ x reader
summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?
warnings: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️, cursing, blood, more character deaths, smutty moments but not full spice
word count: 2.6k
Tag list @kandis-mom @casa-boiardi @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @cakesandtom @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn @emerald-writes
a/n: AHHHH HERE'S THE FINAL PART OF AS GOOD A REASON!!!! I know I went MIA for a minute but I'm back. I started a new job and moved states so it's been an absolutely crazy week for me. Going forward, I'm going to be slower with updating and fics will probably only come out once a week. I've been focusing on editing Divine Violence and catching up on my reading stack (my poor kindle is overloaded) but I promise I won't forget about all of you on tumblr <3 <3 <3
six | series masterlist
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Victoria is silent during the drive, keeping her stare ahead and out the front window without so much as a single glance to her sister or brother. Y/N keeps shooting glances at Niklaus for explanation but he offers nothing. 
“Vic,” she says softly, touching her sister’s shoulder and she flinches at the touch, “Vic what’s wrong?”
She doesn’t answer at first but the second time that her sister asks, she briefly looks back at her and whispers something. 
“What did you say?”
Clearing her throat, she says the unthinkable, “Brock made me do it.”
“What did he make you do?” Niklaus says as he leans towards the front seat. 
“I didn’t have a choice. He….he said if I loved him, I would do it.”
Steve glances over in concern from the driver’s seat, “What is she going on about?”
“I know just as much as you,” Y/N scoffs before turning to her sister, “Vic what did he make you do?” “He said that if I was a good daughter, I would do it,” she mumbles to herself as she pulls something from under her loose sweatshirt. Steve looks over at her again and slams on the breaks in efforts to stop her from pulling out the weapon. The sudden stop sends everyone flying forward as well the knife Victoria had started to pull out. Steve snatches it up before she can with one hand and has a gun pointed at with the other. The car behind them, the one that Sam and James are in, slams to a halt as well as the two men clamor out. 
“What the fuck?” James hisses when he approaches the driver’s side. He narrows his eyes at everyone inside the car and lets out a disappointed sigh when he sees the knife and a shaking Victoria. 
“I expected more of you, Victoria Marie,” he scolds her as if she is a child and nods to Sam and Steve. Sam rips the backseat door open and pulls the other two triplets out as Steve hands him the knife. 
“What are you doing?” Niklaus sneers at Sam and James but neither of them answer. Y/N tries her hand at getting an answer but again gets nothing aside from a stern look from James. Steve exits the vehicle next as the two are dragged back to the second car. He grabs hold of Y/N who fights him tooth and nail to get out of his hold but it’s useless. 
As they’re shoved into the car, they hear a gunshot. Both gasp and let out cries of anger, rage, pain, sadness, anything at all that they’ve felt in the last six years. James joins them in the car, cleaning the barrel of Steve’s gun off on his pant leg. He says nothing as Sam drives off. 
The car where Victoria should be in is starting to smoke as flames try to lick up the sides. Y/N looks at him in horror but no reaction. 
Two Rumlows gone in the span of two hours. 
Who is next?
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Five days pass before Y/N leaves her room. 
She guarded the door with any piece of furniture she could find and refused to open it unless absolutely necessary. Niklaus, of course, had been the only expectation however he too rarely left his room. 
That was until Steve pounded on their doors, demanding that they be downstairs in 15 minutes for a reunion dinner. Y/N scoffs at the idea of having a reunion dinner when all her and her brother want to do is grieve. 
Another pound on the door brings her attention back and she takes a sharp breath in before opening it. A black box sits on the ground in front of the door and it takes everything in her to not stomp on the fragile lid. She picks it up and tosses it onto her bed, staring at it as she sits on the floor. It’s similar to the box she got that first night days ago. 
Weeks ago. 
Months ago?
Honestly at this point, Y/N couldn’t remember how long it had been since she was dragged back to this hell hole of a city and had her life turned upside down. All she knows is that the grip that James had on her is growing tighter everyday. It’s becoming suffocating, squeezing out any breath that she tries to take and that box on her bed is a physical reminder of the hand that’s always wrapped around her throat. 
She climbs to her feet and hesitantly takes a seat next to the box, contemplating whether or not she should let the hand control her even more. A thought crosses her mind, one that chills her to the bone. 
What would James do to Klaus?
Her fingers quickly flick open the box and the lid slides back to reveal a gold necklace sitting on black tissue paper. She lets out a deep sigh at the theatrics that James puts into everything that he does. Picking up the necklace, Y/N scoffs as she looks it over. Of course, he would ask…command her to wear a necklace with his name on it. 
However as her fingers pick it up, they catch on the paper to show a bundle of black gleaming fabric. She pulls the paper back even more and takes out the dress he’s also silently demanding that she wears. It’s a mid length square neck dress that will no doubt show off everything she wants to hide from men like James. 
Sneering at both disgusting gifts, she throws them back into the box and shoves it off her bed. It clatters to the floor as she stares at it in anger, a deep feral anger that needs to be released. This anger accepts only one payment though and that is blood. More specifically that of the White Wolf’s. 
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Only the sounds of clanking silverware and the occasional conversation between James and his men. Niklaus and Y/N stayed silent from the moment they saw each other in the hall. He glared at the dress and necklace she wore and she wanted desperately to tell him it was all a facade but she couldn’t without tipping off the men around them. She could see the palpable anger in his eyes, the hurt that flashed when he read the name that claimed her throat. She tried to convey with her eyes that it would all end tonight but he looked away too quickly and went back to eating. 
The dining room is much like the rest of the house, black and devoid of any emotion. She wants to make a remark about it mirroring the inside of the owner’s heart but one quick glance to the head of the table keeps it locked behind her painted lips. 
James, ever the regal mafia leader, is leaning back in his chair as he watches over his subjects. Surprisingly he’s only wearing a half buttoned black short sleeve and black slacks. Y/N pretends to trail her eyes over the tanned skin that is on display and when she lands on his face, there is a smirk welcoming her heated gaze. He takes a swallow of his favored amber liquid without breaking eye contact with her. A shiver of disgust wants to wash over her body but she suppresses it as Sam speaks. He drones on about whatever useless business he and Steve dealt with today, no doubt so insignificant that if Klaus or Y/N tried to use it against them, it would do nothing. She knew this routine well; dangle pieces of information before their enemies in efforts to get them to strike. Brock had done it time and time again to the point that the remaining Triplets knew it well. Well enough to not take the bait. 
Dinner slowly comes to an end as servants take away the empty places, leaving all of the guests to glare at each other. Y/N’s fingers tap lightly on the steak knife that remains, drawing attention to it and Steve motions for it to be taken away. James chuckles under his breath as he watches the interaction but says nothing. Y/N smirks on the inside but puts on a face of frustration. 
Both her and the White Wolf knew that if she was going to try something, she wouldn’t have been so obvious as to grab a steak knife. No, James knows that it’s a distraction but he wants to watch her plan unfold before stopping her. 
His sharp eyes meet hers again and they pin her to her seat. She sees his mouth move but she can’t hear the words that come out. She guesses that he dismissed everyone from the way that everyone clears out of the room , leaving them alone. Niklaus shoots her a glance before Sam pushes him out and she gives her brother a small nod. 
I’ll be okay.
Niklaus doesn’t fight Sam because he knows that she will be but it does little to calm the rising fear. He nods back. 
Be careful. 
She smiles at him, covering her sinister plan with sibling love. 
Once the door is closed and they are finally alone, Y/N settles her gaze back on James who had been watching the interaction. He sits his glass on the arm of his chair as he looks her over. A twinkle of something positively feral flashes in his eye when he takes in the necklace and dress she is wearing. 
“I figured it better to comply,” she offers as she takes a sip of her wine. 
“Comply?” he questions, “You make it sound like I’m a tyrant.”
“You’re far worse.”
James lets out a deep laugh that’s more animal like than human, “If I were then your brother’s head would’ve been served for dinner.”
Y/N takes another slow sip of her wine to hide her seething anger at the suggestion. 
“And then I would’ve taken you in front of the others.”
She turns to narrow her eyes at him, “What if I said no?”
“You won’t have.”
“How can you be so sure?” The glass of his cup clinks on the table as he sits it on the table before him, “Look at what you’re wearing. I’d say that is a pretty good indication that you wouldn’t say that to me.”
She rolls her eyes at him and sits her own glass on the table. Taking a deep breath, she prepares herself for her next move. Before James can say another vile thing, she quickly stands and walks to the head of the table. Perching herself on the table just beside him, Y/N gently pushes at the arm of James’ chair. Taking the hint, he moves back an inch and takes her by the hips to pull her in front of him. She had only been this close to him a handful of times but every time it’s just as terrifying as the last. His cold attitude extends to the air that circles him and now her. His scent of leather, guns, and blood engulf her and caress the sides of her face as he watches her every move. 
In another life, she knew that she would’ve fallen for him. She could see the charm and confidence that he would use on her to get her into bed. She could see the way that he would shower her with gifts to the point where she would have to beg him to stop. She could see how he would laugh when he kissed up her neck, claiming that she would never have enough and would never stop giving her the world. 
However now with the predatory look in his eye, she’s not sure that he would ever be the James that she pictured in her head. This man, the White Wolf, is the image of pure evil down to the way that he lazily smiles up at her, a dark look swimming in his equally darkening eyes. 
“Don’t pull anything stupid, little snake,” he murmurs to her as he drinks in the way his name lays on her breasts. 
“Who said I was going to do anything?” she murmurs back as she leans down into his space.
“I know that look.” 
She bats her lashes at him, fiending innocence and he laughs again, that deep rumble in his chest squeezing the air from her lungs. His right hand makes a slow climb up her arm as she leans down and finds its place on her throat, just above where his name sits on its golden chain. His thumb rubs her jaw, tipping her face down by her chin so he can look at her better. His tongue swipes his bottom lip as he appreciates the red painted on hers. 
“We both know you’re not some stupid innocent doll,” he whispers to her, “You’re my little snake, clever and deadly.”
“Are you my White Wolf then?”
James smirks at her question and draws her closer, “That depends.”
“On?”
“If you plan to keep trying to kill me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she whispers against his lips before kissing him. His soft lips move against hers in a slow but domineering way, control every slide and move they make. The hand around her neck slips into her loose hair while his other hand pulls her by the hips onto his lap and slips up on her lower back. Under her, she can feel the hardness forming in his pants and she stifled a moan at the feeling of him moving against her. One of her hands tangles into her hair, pulling at it so his head falls back and she descends upon his neck. 
Y/N leaves wet kisses on his jaw and down his neck as they move against each other, gasps and moans leaving both of them. In their desperation to devour each other, James didn’t notice that her other hand was nowhere to be felt on his body nor did he see the flash of silver in the fire light. 
“Fuck,” he chokes out when that flash of silver hides a place in between his sixth and seventh rib. Y/N quickly pulls the small dinner knife out and plunges back into the same area. The shock of her attack and the pain that is growing hot in his side stop him from pushing her off or defending himself in other ways. 
She pulls away, still sitting on top of him with the bloody knife in her hand and gives him a small smile. He breathlessly chuckles at the sight, “Wouldn’t dream of it?”
“It’s not a dream anymore,” she offers with a small shrug. 
James drops his hands from her body as she slides off and lets her knife on the table just out of his reach. The attack on his spleen will cause him to bleed out slowly enough that he will feel every moment of it but fast enough that there would be nothing anyone could do to help him. They both know it and he wants to laugh again at the situation but the pain prevents him from doing so. 
“Why?” he asks, almost too quiet for her to hear but she does. She pauses at the door to answer him. 
“Spite.”
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lanitalay · 2 months
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What is Left and What is Lost
a/n: this came to me when i was crying after watching One Day
Lucien x reader
Warning: ansgt!!!!!
Word count: 800
Masterlist
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When all was said and done, he could not bring himself to regret any of it. 
Her cheeks were glowing from the moonlight reflecting on tear tracks running down her face. She held his hand close to her chest as she begged “please, don’t do this.” But how could he do anything else? 
“Lucien, love, please.” She grasped him tighter. “You know it’s the only way.” She furrowed her brows, triggering a new wave of tears. With his other hand he traced the healing scab along her throat. “He will never lay his hands on you again.”
“I’m y/n,” Lucien tried to act nonchalant but a boyish smile spread across his face when she introduced herself, hand stretched out and waiting for him to shake it. “I’m Lucien,” she giggled. “Like I didn’t already know that, Vanserra.” 
When his hand met hers she let out a wild laugh and yanked him, pulling him into her father’s barn. “What are we doing?” She kept dragging him behind her, deeper into the maze of hay stacks. “I want to see something.” He laughed as she stopped and turned around to face him. “Can you really control fire?” He could, somewhat. His powers still manifested in erratic ways. But he nodded, nonetheless. “I want to see,” so she picked up a single piece of hay and held it up for him to “burn this.” 
“What?” She nudged him, “go on, burn this and only this.”
“The entire barn could burn down,” he cautioned.
“Then don't let it, come on,” he should have said no, turned and walked away. He should have called her crazy for insisting he light a fire in the most flammable place he could think of. He should have known that his irregular heartbeats were symptoms of something much more grave.  
Lucien aimed with his pointer finger and the needle in her hand went aflame. In fractions of a second it was completely incinerated, her fingers singed by the flame. Y/n yelped and threw it to the ground, where the floor, a layer of hay was perfect kindling for the tiny spark that fell down. 
“Crap!” She yelled and made to run outside but they were quickly surrounded by traitorous flames. “Watch out!” Lucien warned as he stepped in front of her, hands spread in an attempt to put it out. “Cover your eyes!” He pushed out a wild wick of power that extinguished the fire. But his maneuver was uncalculated and the force from his power knocked him, and y/n, into another pile of hay. 
A muffled “oof” sounded beneath him as he landed on top of her. He rolled off of her as fast as he could. The breath was knocked from his lungs when she jumped on him, eyes wild, smile wide “that was brilliant!” Lucien was terrified. He would say yes to anything she asked if it would result in her looking at him like that again. 
“Y/n, he won’t stop until you’re dead. I’m doing this to keep you aliv-” a sob racked through her. “Come with me then, please, Lucien, I- I can’t bear this,” she was gasping for air in between her cries. His heart shattered at the sight. “You’ll be better off-” she let go of his hand, and grabbed his face “I won’t survive this.” 
He brushed her hair away from her face “you won’t survive him.”
Eris was the first to warn him. He told him getting involved with a villager would only end in disaster. Lucien should have listened. Deep down, he knew his brother was telling the truth. That Beron would not hesitate to eliminate an undesired female. But He couldn’t keep away. Day after day he found himself in the barn, by the lake, in the fields and in the forest with her leading the way. He could not count how many nights they had spent huddled by a fire, looking at the stars. 
Until one day the barn burnt down.
Then her house. 
“We don’t have much time,” Eris urged from the grated exit. “Come with me,” Lucien looked to his brother who shook his head. He had secured her shelter with priestesses in the Day Court. Lucien would be sent to Spring. “I’ll find you when everything calms down, I swear to you,” he kissed her one last time and Eris winnowed her away. 
He couldn't regret loving her or sending her away. Not when it meant that she was alive. Not even when, years later, he still had not seen her. In the blur of battles, court dealings and war she was safe.  When all that’s left of them is only his memories. When all the possibilities of growing old together were lost. 
He’d willingly pay the price of missing her over and over again. 
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archiveofkloss · 2 months
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The Gentle Workout Karlie Kloss Swears By by Olivia Rose Rushing
The model, entrepreneur, and mother of two shares her go-to wellness rituals.
At just 31, Karlie Kloss has already lived many lives.
When she was 21, the Missouri native was a Victoria’s Secret Angel. In 2015, she founded Kode With Klossy, a company that creates opportunities for young women in tech. Flash forward to today, and the mother of two has learned a lot about dealing with change.
“With life as a mother, you don’t lose who you are — you evolve,” Kloss tells Bustle. “My fashion career is still a core part of who I am, but I’m also an entrepreneur and I just had a second baby.” While she still prioritizes aspects of her wellness routine, sometimes things slip.
“If something’s got to give, it might be a few extra steps in my skin care routine, but I’m going to make sure that I make time to break a sweat or even just go for a walk and get fresh air,” she says.
In between modeling gigs, educating the next generation of intellectuals with her company, and annual invites to the Met Gala, Kloss is taking on a partnership with Coterie, a subscription-based diaper service that aims to take one thing off a parent’s plate.
Here, Kloss talks all things motherhood, the wellness rituals she swears by, and finding moments of self-care amid her busy schedule.
What has changed since baby number two?
Not to be cliché, but everything — in the most beautiful ways. That's really what the Coterie campaign is all about — the changes. I'm looking in the mirror and I have mascara left over from last night, I don't even think I've run a brush through my hair today. My self-care routine has definitely gotten more efficient, and maybe a little neglected, but that's OK. I'm enjoying this phase of life, which has made me so much better in a lot of ways. As a businesswoman, I've become more efficient and I make decisions faster, and I think a lot of working moms can relate to that. It's impossible to even anticipate what is about to happen, but it's the most beautiful changes that force you to grow.
What’s your skin care routine like these days?
I just take better care of my skin so I don't have to wear as much makeup. I've found that's been a better investment of my time, so I’m diligent at the end of the day about taking off makeup, cleansing, toning, and using a serum and a retinol.
Are there any non-negotiables that you always make time for throughout the day?
I'd say fitness. I exercise for my mental health more than my physical health. I find that's such a core part of my mental well-being. I’m not as focused on high-impact or intensity — I’ve developed a more gentle exercise regimen post-baby number two, so I’ve done a lot of Pilates lately, which I find helps me show up better in every other aspect of my life.
What’s on your workout playlist?
Anything Beyoncé.
What’s the most out-there wellness treatment you’ve ever tried?
There's this guy who is called The Beauty Sandwich who has some sort of ultrasound technology he uses for facials. I've done his treatments before the Met Gala or a big red carpet, and it does some magical thing to the muscles under your face, your jaw, your neckline — it just pulls and tightens in some mysterious, magical way.
Coffee or tea?
Iced coffee always. There's snow on the ground here in New York and I just went out to get an iced coffee this morning.
Physical book or Kindle?
I love an audiobook, actually. Especially now, I always have my hands full or I'm in transit, so I love to have headphones in and listen to an audiobook.
Do you prefer walking the runway or photo shoots?
I do love the energy of walking in a runway show — it's like a live performance, and there's something about that adrenaline rush that never gets old.
What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?
My dad always used to say to my sisters and me, "No matter what it is that you do, you should always try to be the best you can be at it." Both my parents instilled this idea of pursuing your passions and doing it with excellence. That always stuck with me.
find the interview here
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triplesilverstar · 6 months
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Day 12
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Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors DNI
Pairing: Werecat Wolfwood X F!Reader X Werecat Livio
CW:  Penis in vagina sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Knotting, Double penetration, Anal Sex, teasing, polygamy, jealous partner, mentions of breeding
Word count: 2925
A/N: Day 12, A snow storm on the horizon, and just before you get started on your supper a knock at your door. Good thing you don’t mind two unexpected guests.
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It had just started to snow as you were heading home, the forecast calling for some pretty nasty weather overnight and into tomorrow. Almost as soon as you were in the door you were heading for the brick fireplace of your small home to at least get a small blaze going to try and help ward off the chill. 
If things got too cold tonight you could also relocate from your bedroom to the living room. It wouldn’t be the first time you did or the last if needed, the old home not having the best insulation these days. Once a few flames were crackling away at the kindling you were off to your bedroom to change into something dry and warm. 
Moving into your kitchen, a loud knock at the door makes you pause. You weren’t expecting anyone, pulling yourself up to your tiptoes you could make out two figures through the small glass window, a soft smile on your face before you opened the door for the two men. “I wasn’t expecting to see the two of you tonight.” 
The smell of cigarettes wafting down to your nose as the first figure leaned down to peck your forehead. “Van broke down if you don’t mind the intrusion.” Snorting at the feel of Nicholas’s scruff against your skin. Stepping aside so the buff man could walk past you.
“I told him we should have called, but he claimed there was no signal” A second peck to your forehead as Livio stepped in behind his brother. Taking his affections one step further to nose at your hair, allowing a glob of snow to fall from his hat and onto the back of your neck making you yelp in shock. 
“You’re both drenched from the snow. Do you guys have something to change into so you aren’t soaking my furniture?” Both men just look at one another and you groan, dragging your hand down your face. “Strip. I’ll go get blankets.” 
As you begin to walk away Nicholas offers a solution that makes you still want to slap his broad chest. “Or we could strip and shift?” 
“I’m not having two very attractive werecats walking around my house with everything swinging around” Livio’s turning red while you huffed on your way to your bedroom, Nicholas’s booming laugh following your retreating form. Since you’d found Nicholas bleeding out in the woods, his appearance in your life has grown larger. Then his little brother had shown up and started carving his own slice as well, which had resulted in you buying more and more fleece blankets. 
Neither man enjoyed being tangled up in the heavy weight of the quilt that covered your bed. More comfortable with fluffy fabric wrapped around their forms and piles of material on the floor. You had to admit, you also enjoyed the feeling of the blankets and their soft fur when they were shifted. Memories of the last time they’d been there make your face warm. Shaking your head you grab a pile of fabric in your arms heading back to your front door. 
“Starting to think you might have gotten lost, pretty lady” greets your ears as you stumble your way back into the living room, dropping the armload onto the couch and watching as Nicholas ties off one of the pieces of rope he knows you use to hang clothes inside. Scowling as you notice the pile of damp clothes near the door, slowly moving your gaze to Livio watching him wither once your eyes land on him. 
“I guess I’ll get started on some food since you two are making a mess of my living room.” Rolling your shoulders as you head for the kitchen, tossing your head back just in time to catch both men staring at your ass. “You might need to get that fire bigger if you want to dry your clothes before tomorrow.” 
Later finds the three of you content with food in your bellies, and you find yourself on the floor in front of the now roaring fire. Enough coals to produce heat hot enough to help dry the men's clothes. Livio’s head in your lap, facing the flames, and Nicholas pressed up against your side. Both of your hands occupied one on each of their heads rubbing their hair. 
Finding yourself laughing softly to yourself. Every time one of your hands paused in their motions, a noise would rise from their throats that you could only explain as a kitty grumble. Your body was also vibrating softly, both men purring away at your soft touch. 
“What’s so funny?” Livio’s voice reminds you of someone when they’ve had too much to drink as his words slur, except you can tell it's from being content and sleepy. Grinning you pause your ministrations leaning down to press your lips against the scars along his left eye. 
A grumble resounded from the werecat beside you. “Did you know you both purr when you’re happy and grumble when I stop?” 
“We don’t” Nick's answer is short and chopped, making you laugh while still leaning over Livio who’s smiling along with you. One of his large hands reaches up to cup your cheek. 
“Livio, tell me you heard him grumble when I stopped rubbing his head!” You can’t hide the amusement in your tone, watching his eyes light up as you nuzzle into his palm.
“I did” he admits softly, almost as if he’s worried what his brother’s response will be. 
“Of course he agrees with you, his head is in your lap!” Nick’s tone is short, almost pouty, a flicker of regret in Livio’s eye which you aim to soothe. 
“Oh! Sounds like someone is a little jealous” moving your fingers from Livio’s hair to trail down his jaw. “Your brother deserves as much of my attention as you do.” 
“Well it’s not equal attention when his head is in your lap” he really does sound so pouty that it’s cute. Mumbling something under his breath that you don’t catch but are fairly certain contained the word ‘kittens’. 
“Don’t sulk my pretty panther” You press a chaste kiss to Livio’s lips before straightening, his hand leaving your face. Twisting so you can lean down over Nicholas who’s been watching you, the pout still stretched across his face. “Do you want kisses too?” 
Another grumble from Nicolas before he pushes himself up to meet you halfway, not content with the chasteness of what you’re offering as he runs his tongue over your bottom lip as you pull away. “That’s not the kind of kiss I want and you know it” you hum at him, but instead of indulging his request, you straighten again. Hands going back to each of their heads, but taking the time to card your fingers through Nicholas's hair and tease the tip of one of his ears. 
“Well, then I think the two of you need to see if you can make it worth my wild because both of you won’t fit in my bed.” Slowly dragging your hand back from the side of his face, smirking at him and you notice the way Livio swallows, nervous of how this might play out. “And it just wouldn’t be right to have one of you left out on this floor by themself.” 
A few moments of silence, tension thick enough to cut with a knife when the three of you are moving. Livio is rolling out of your lap, turning on his heels for his hands to grip your sides while Nicholas is pushing himself to his knees, one hand grabbing your head to keep you in place while he kisses you the way he’s wanted from the start. 
Tongue sweeping around your mouth as if he’s going to map every nook and cranny, and all you can do is just sit there and take it pulled to your knees by the dark haired man. An odd power play at work, as the three of you know, you’re the only one with any clothes still on both men having just been wrapped in blankets that should have fallen to the floor with the others. 
Moaning into the kiss and starting to feel your lungs burn as the hands on your sides are moving, hooking into the waistband of your lounge pants and starting to pull them downward. Thick digits press against your folds as the fabric is bunched up and down around your knees. Livio moaned against your skin, no doubt enjoying the wetness he found and had been smelling for who knows how long while settled in your lap. It’s not your first time with both men and you doubt it’s going to be your last as Nicholas finally breaks from the kiss. “I’m going to stuff you so full you won’t be able to move for days.” A fire already starting to simmer inside your belly. 
Working in tandem you’re stripped of your own clothes in no time, placed on your knees with Nicholas bending down behind you now. Pushing your legs apart while two of his fingers are working your core, pumping you while you try to steady yourself. With Livio in front of you, a hand over his belly and one of your hands wrapped around his length starting to stroke him. 
It’s easy to find the rhythm between the three of you with Nicholas working your folds and you working Livio who’s trying to use one hand to distract you. “You look so pretty.” Almost lost with his low mumble as you give his cock a quick twist with your wrist, smiling up at him and beaming from the praise as you start to lick at the parts of him not covered by your hand. Humming at the noise of pleasure that echoes around the three of you, you can already feel Livio starting to twitch in your palm. 
Not wanting him to waste the load you wrap your lips around the head, sucking gently as you keep stroking him letting out a long moan while your eyes flutter. Nicholas starts to lick at your center and he’s making sure the path of the wet muscle is going anywhere but near your clit. He seems content to just lap at whatever is leaking from your core while you suck Livio to your heart's content. A whine mixed with a growl and you tighten your fingers just a little more, humming as the taste of salt explodes across your tongue. Working your lips to pull every creamy drop from his balls while he has his eyes closed and rubs his face. 
“You weren’t supposed to come yet Livio.” Chuckling at the annoyance lacing Nicholas’s words, the gruff of his chin rubbing against the soft skin of your inner thigh. Popping off his cock with a quick lick to the underside of his shaft you grin up at him. 
“I don’t care either way, I love sucking both of you off.” Nuzzling into the palm Livio is pressing against the warm skin of your face, the other hand pushing your hair away from where it was starting to stick to the sides of your mouth. 
“I couldn’t help it, you just always feel so good.” Bending to meet your lips, a soft brush almost tender considering his brother is still plunging his fingers in and out of your core. 
“The plan had been for both of us to be inside of you and come together.” Grunting as Nicholas pulls his fingers from your slick center, you break from Livio just in time to watch him slip his fingers between his lips letting out a moan of satisfaction. 
“A plan huh?” You deadpan looking at him, watching him flinch as exactly what he said sinks in. “What about the van breaking down?” Rolling your eyes as Nicholas pouts once more, you can hear Livio gulping again. “Come on pretty lady.” Leaning closer to kiss you again, and taking your hand to wrap around Nicholas’s own cock letting you feel the pre-cum leaking from the tip. “Can you blame us, we missed you, and good you feel wrapped around our cocks. You take us so good, and it’s been a while.” Smirking against the side of Nicholas’s mouth you have to agree, it has been a while. 
“Well then. I guess I like the idea of having both of you, but” you tap one of your fingers along Nicholas’s plumping lip. “How about you stretch me out to give Livio a little time to recover before we move on to the next event?” A frown marring those dark handsome features, but you see him relent after a moment nodding. 
“Alright babe.” He uses his hands to lift you closer to him so you’re straddling his waist, letting Nicholas push his tip between your folds before you sink down. Moaning as you slowly work yourself looser on Nicholas’s dick, using his shoulders to raise and lower your body while he puts his mouth to work sucking on one of your tits. 
While you ride him, you watch as Livio moves position leaning back against the couch and starting to pump himself. One thing you’ve learned with these two is it doesn’t seem to matter how much they come when they’re with you they always seem to have another load waiting in the tank. Trailing the fingers of one of your hands through Nicholas’s hair you close your eyes, focusing on the clenching of your own walls trying to relax for the next event. “I’m getting close whispered against your chest and you stop the rise and fall of your legs, pressing a kiss to his lips before lifting yourself away. 
You almost topple over, having been saved by Livio wrapping a broad arm around, stabilizing you while Nicholas moves the blankets around to give you more of a padded area for the main event. 
Once that was done, Livio placed himself on his back letting you settle on his hips and lining yourself up before slinking down, feeling one of Livio’s rough palms sweep across your stomach letting you adjust to his thicker girth. While he isn’t as long as Nicholas, Livio pushes you to the point where you aren’t sure you can take much more. Humming as two more arms reach to wrap around you, nosing at your ear while watching the two of you. 
“Damn you look good stuffed like that, and I’m gonna stuff you even more.” Dragging his lips along the nap of your neck before pushing you down so your chest is pressed against Livio. Sighing as he happily wraps you in his embrace, hands dancing along your back as Nicholas lines himself up with your other entrance and starts to press in. Something else you enjoy from the two of them, whatever it is that makes them werecats also seems to allow them some kind of ability so they can pump pre-cum as if it’s lube when they need it. Allowing Nicholas to easily fill up your second entrance, groaning as you encompass his hard flesh and all you want to do is squirm in his hold. 
You have no idea how the boys feel but if the noises they make are anything to go by they enjoy the way your body surrounds them. Your fingers dig into the meat of Livio’s pectorals while you adjust to both men, feeling the pressure build deep inside of you and they aren’t moving aside from the involuntary twitches of your warm core. 
Nicholas’s hands are starting to trail up your side and his mouth blazing a damp line along your spine, trying to keep you relaxed in his hold. At some unknown signal you feel him and Livio both starting to move so one of they’re pumping in a rhythm so you always feel the dual sensation of being full and empty. Moaning, and digging your fingers in more small crescents form on Livio’s chest from the pleasure building in your core, and it doesn’t take you long to orgasm, causing both men to freeze and grunt. 
Livio bites his lip while Nicholas sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder making you howl as they both try to hold off their own orgasms. As you feel your body start to relax more post nut. Humming in satisfaction as both men start to fuck you in earnest once more, it doesn’t take long for your body to start to thrum again. Watching Livio you see the smallest twitch of his eye, frowning slightly at him. 
You moan as he slams into you at the same time as Nicholas, starting to pant. “Gonna fill you up, and never let go.” The pressure against both of your holes growing as their swelling knots are pressing harder and harder against your openings, and you let out a high-pitched whine as they snap past that resistance, both men mewing at the new tightness. 
Instead of thrusting now, they’re moving while deep inside of you, both whispering how good you look, how great you feel and Livio’s eyes are slammed shut. “Can’t wait to breed you full of kittens.” Like this Livio is so far inside of you, his tip is right against your cervix making you shudder watching his face go slack while Nicholas lets out a rumble behind you as they both empty their nuts inside your tight body. 
The storm might be howling outside, but inside, your deepest parts are being made into a white mess. 
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neteyamyawne · 11 months
Note
Girl let me tell you, you absolutely ate those Jake x Reader x Neytiri up
I had 2 ideas, you don’t have to write them if you don’t want to cause they are angsty but I just wanted to share them with someone else
1. Jake x Metkayina Fem Reader x Neytiri where they mate right before everything happens and instead of Ronal’s soul sister dying its the reader’s soul brother, and the reader is completely heartbroken and breaks down like ronal but instead of the whole “What is this Tonowari” its directed at Jake and Neytiri. The reader feels betrayed and angry at Jake and Neytiri because she feels like they brought this upon her and the people but then after everything happens they reconcile.
2. Jake x Omaticaya Reader x Neytiri where instead of the Neteyam the reader gets shot and she dies and then after their reactions and how they greive type thing
A/n : thank you so much, I'm glad you loved my Fics 🥹 the second request will be in head canons and should probably be posted in a few days, I hope this fic doesn't feel like it's hurried, I hope y'all like it 🥰
Yengwal ♡✦
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Pairing : Jake x fem!reader x Neytiri
Summary : 1. Request
Gentle 💚
❈ Warning : death of tulkun, angst, war , maybe mention of blood, grief, fighting, crying, fluffy end.
❈ Word count : 1.5k not proof read
"Word" - dialogue
❈ Note : this might feel like it's hurried but I wrote this in between working on other things 😭 so idk, please let me know if you feel something is off, I'll work on it.
❈ Glossary : y/n -your name, y/t/n - your tulkun name, tsurak - warrior's mount, ole ngati kameie - I see you, yawne - beloved , tiyawn - love, tsawksyul - sun flower
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Tears streamed down your eyes as you floated on your ilu besides your now dead spirit brother, your heart shattering piece by piece as the time passed by, you pressed your head against his eye, a scream clawing its way up your throat, your cries piercing Jake's and Neytiri's heart, you wailed for your spirit brother, sharply turning around as you screamed at your mates "you brought this upon us, my spirit brother is dead because of you, it is your fault" your voice cracked in the end, turning to hug your brother for a last time, Ronal swam towards you, enveloping your shaking body in her arms as you cried in her neck, your heart too broken to form words, the drizzle of rain doing nothing but showing the tip of the sorrow what you felt.
You stood besides Ronal and tonowari, rage kindled in your chest, bubbling its way up, the clan swarmed in revolt, screaming for revenge against the killing of your tulkun, angry tears still ran down your cheeks, neytiri walked towards you as she tried to grab your arm but took a step back, hissing at her "do not touch me, you- you betrayed me" her face fell, eyes filled with sadness, Jake stood beside her, his voice wavering as he tried to explain but you were beyond that "y/n please listen to me, we didn't meant-" but you cut them of, as you yelled "you knew, you brought this to us, my brother is dead because of you Jake! He was my family!" He tried to grab your hand but you wrenched it out of his grip, coiling back, hot tears streaming down as you wailed in grief.
Jake tried his best to make you and the clan understand but no one listened, finally after minutes yelling Jake had enough when he told the others about the tracker making sure to tell them about the dangers that trail behind it, soon the whole of metkayina dived into the sea to inform the other tulkuns .
You sat with Ronal in her mauri, grief squeezing your heart, Jake and neytiri tried talking to you but tonowari said it was best they didn't seeing your state, neytiri wanted nothing but to hold you close to her, comfort you in your saddened state but you refused to see their faces, Jake was miserable, he felt guilty for this, he couldn't help but think it was his fault that this was happening, his mate, who is he promised that he'll keep her happy, was hurt because of him.
Time went by agonizingly slow, you were seated in a corner not speaking to anyone, dried stains of tears peppered your cheeks, your sniffles sounded once in a while, hurried steps sounded outside the pod, Jake and neytiri stumbled into the mauri, their breaths labored as they spoke in a quick voice "the kids- the kids are in danger, they are trying to save a tulkun, your children are there too" you were brought out your thoughts by that, immediately standing up as you walked towards them, worry filled your voice as you spoke "what are saying, ma'Jake? Are you sure?" He nodded, holding you by your shoulder, neytiri took your hand in hers, even if your anger towards them was still present but your worry for the children made you forget it.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
You were on your tsurak besides Jake, neytiri flew above you, the demon who held lo'ak at gunpoint spoke with Jake, words were faint, but in the end he shrugged his gun down, hissing at something you couldn't hear, he looked at locking eye contact but he shook his head, something was wrong, my eyes widened when he started moving forward, he was giving himself up, you called out before it was too late "ma'Jake-" but ,a tulkun shot out of the ocean, slamming onto the ship, taking our chance, we raged forward with a war cry.
You got onto the ship to help neteyam free lo'ak , tuk and tsireya, pulling tuk in my arms you kissed her forehead, ushering everyone to escape but lo'ak pulled back " we have to save spider, we can't leave him here" you looked at neteyam, the boy conflicted but he sighed nodding, you warned them to be safe and to turn back anytime in a risky situation, you took tsireya and tuk back down, swimming to safety, relieved to meet kiri inbetween, but your relief was short lived as two talons grabbed your shoulder bringing you up, your screams were unheard, seconds later you were thrown onto the ship, your struggle were in vain as they strapped you to the railing. Hours passed, kiri, tsireya and tuk tried to save you but the soldiers caught on first, now kiri and tuk were bound beside me while tsireya was thrown into the pool, the demon that kept us captured spoke with Jake, his voice low but soon he got into action.
You stood with a knife against my throat, the demon behind you pressing it harder into your neck, Jake had one of his hand cuffed onto the orange strap, you jerked your body to get out of his grip but before anything happened neytiri pounced out with a tawtute in her arms, a knife held in her own hands, the man behind you stilled, clearly feared for the boy's life as he spoke "you think i care for him? We're not even the same species" his words were bluff, and neytiri saw through it , suddenly she brought down the knife against the boy's chest and the hold on you was released, he pushed your body away as Jake caught you, neytiri pushed the boy away too, walking away towards tuk, you all slowly backing away.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
Jake fought with the demon while you, neytiri and tuk were stuck inside the tunnel you fell into, desperate to search your way out but none seem to be in sight, heaving the door open you went inside but it hit a dead end, turning back to open the door but the pressure was too strong and it wouldn't budge, swimming back to tuk and neytiri, you held them close to you, tears welled in your eyes as you pulled back to look at neytiri, she had tears of her own falling down her cheek, a sob wrenched out of you, as your hurtful words said earlier crashed back to you " I'm sorry, tiri, I'm so sorry, i didn't mean it" she didn't say anything pulling you back into the hug, kissing your forehead, she sighed finally forming words "it was not your fault, i understand yawne, your grief was too great, I'm sorry for bringing this on you" you shook your head vigorously, another sob spilling out, with a crack in your voice you spoke "no, the only thing you brought to me was love, nothing more, it is the demons fault my y/t/n is dead, not yours, not Jake's, ole ngati kameie ma'tiri" pressing your forehead against hers, she smile "ole ngati kameie, ma' y/n"
And tuk joined into the hug, squealing at the conversation.
Kiri soon found you, helping all three of you out of the sinking ship, coming up on the surface you saw Jake, neteyam and lo'ak on payakan, swimming forward joining them, Jake pulled you in for hug then neytiri, you sighed closing your eyes as finally everything was over, letting the overwhelming feeling subside in presence of your family, it would all be alright, it would all be okay.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
You sat with Jake and neytiri in your mauri, the kids fast asleep, it's been days after the battle and you kept your distance for a while, but now you couldn't stay away for to long, soon enough you pulled them in for a hug, and they didn't hold back, your voice near whisper as you spoke "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I didn't hear what I was saying, it was never your fault, you only brought love and happiness in my life, I'm so sorry " Jake smiled nuzzling his head in your hair, kissing your temple lightly before he started "it is alright yawne, you were hurt, we are not mad at you at all, we understand your pain tiyawn" Neytiri nodded kissing your cheek, resting a hand on the side of your face, wiping your tears away with her thumb, her voice soft as she said "you were angry and you were right for it, we love you no matter what, and we are sorry for the hurt we inflicted on you, tsawksyul, I'm happy eywa helped us come together again" her smile radiant, you pulled back, looking at your mates, considering yourself blessed to have such partners like them.
The night was spent with apologies and loving words, both Jake and Neytiri held you tight in their arms as all three of you swayed in the hammock, Jake's tail lightly thumping on your abdomen while Neytiri's wrapped around your ankle, slumber pulled you in, with no thoughts scrambling in your mind you relaxed giving inn, content in your mates arms, peace surrounding the mauri.
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A/n : the second part of this request is still being written so be patient it will be posted soon 🤭🥰 thank you so much for your love and support, for being tagged comment on the pinned post on my acc ☺️
Yawne : @fanboyluvr, @callmeoncette, @lu-the-ghost-reader, @brisbrisket, @saltedcoffeescotch, @ducks118, @itscheybaby, @jackiehollanderr, @zoetrope1997, @yeosxxx, @persefolli, @theycallmesia, @elijangwifey, @erosthefae, @im-in-a-pansexual-panik, @killua2dot0, @ilovechickenwings, @kylobensgirl, @darling-imobsessed, @majathepapaya, @sweetirilly, @reinap06, @neteyamforlife, @thatgirljas13.
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©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!
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loguetowns · 2 years
Text
when it happened
shanks x reader, sanji x reader
when they realize they're in love you
1k words
a/n: idk what possessed me to pair these two together but the heart wants to write what it wants and who am i to fight it
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the flag is what shanks sees first, the thrice-scarred skull waving against the moonlight. next comes the ship embedded with his and his crew's blood, sweat and tears. its colossal size is a sight for sore eyes, especially compared to the dinky boat he's had to use.
but it doesn't feel like he's coming home until he sees a familiar silhouette race down the gangway, rushing towards him at a speed that only shooting stars could rival.
you run and you run, faster and faster, and shanks can't help but smile. he knows how lucky he is to have someone almost as excited as he is to come home.
how your hair catches wind, how starlight shines on your skin, and how your smile gets bigger as you get closer —
oh, how he's missed you.
"you're home!"
you hurl yourself at him, suddenly airborne when shanks lifts you off the ground. laughing, he spins you 'round and 'round with a strong hold on your waist.
it's amazing how right it feels to be embracing you like this, and shanks could never tire of this homecoming ritual of yours.
"hmm, maybe we should put a stop to this," he teases. "i feel like it keeps getting harder. you putting on weight or something?"
he sets you down with a playful smile, earning him an adorable scrunched nose in protest.
"don't be rude," you swat his arm. "maybe it's the fact that you only have one arm?"
"hmm, unlikely to be the case but that's all the more reason to stop doing this, eh. you're going to wear out my only good arm."
"bullshit," you say. "don't act like you hate this. i know you love it."
love.
love is what echoes in his mind as you pull him a little closer to you. love is what floods his veins when he meets you halfway, closing the distance until you're only a breath away from him.
your eyes reflect the heavens above, and the way the moon glows makes it looks like there's stardust on your cheeks. shanks takes in your pretty face up close, like a prisoner who's seen the sky for the first time in years.
and years is how long it's been since shanks can remember feeling this way — this warm, kindling, feel-it-in-your-bones affection.
shanks kisses you, sweet and true, and thinks to himself that if home is where the heart is then he's finally home.
"you're right," he whispers against your lips.
"it's love."
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"you're up already?"
sanji looks up from the cutting board to find you standing in the doorway.
your hair is mussed and you're wearing your favourite t-shirt (aka his favourite t-shirt), thighs peeking from under the hem as you stretch. he fights a smile watching you try (and fail) to stifle a yawn but lets it go when you catch his eye and blush in embarrassment.
even half-asleep, sanji thinks you are the most adorable thing he's ever seen.
"i always wake up this early," he says, his hands return to the task at hand but his eyes stay locked on you. "breakfast for these goons needs a lot of prep, y'know."
"boo," you shuffle towards him. "why does it have to be you who always makes breakfast?"
"sweetheart, i'm the cook. that's kind of my job."
when you finally reach him, you wrap your arms to hug him from behind, careful not to disrupt his knife work. you can't see it, but sanji's expression is soft and warm, second only to a hug from his beloved.
"okay," your breath tickles him. "but it's also your job to cuddle me in the morning. so what are are we going to do about that?"
sanji laughs, the sound of it reverberating against your cheek. he puts his knife down to turns around, returning your embrace and holding you in his arms.
"what can i do to make it up to you?"
you glance up at him with sleepy eyes and the most loveable expression a man could hope to see at dawn. "a kiss would be a good start."
"easy," he grins. he leans in to close the distance between you but stops just in front of your lips. he doesn't close his eyes, choosing to take a moment and admire you in all your wonder.
as far as pretty things go, sanji's no stranger to appreciating beautiful people. yet, there's something about you that is deeper and truer than any attraction he's ever felt before.
it fills him with an inexplicable joy when you're around, and just when he thinks that his heart couldn't be any fuller, you smile at him and his heart grows and grows still. the way he feels about you is bottomless, boundless, limitless, and he's certain that this must be what love feels like.
he figures he's waited long enough to fall in love, and you've definitely waited long enough to be kissed. sanji's lips meet yours, spreading warmth all the way down to his toes, the sweetest taste on his tongue.
he pulls away with a heartstruck look that reflects your own.
sanji rubs a thumb against your cheek, "you're perfect."
you beam at him.
"but your breath stinks," he teases.
you clamp your hands over your lips, a wondrous picture of delightful embarrassment. he laughs at your cute little pout, thanking the heavens for allowing him to keep this angel to himself.
you try to pull away, but he traps you in his arms, and leans in for another kiss (despite the supposed stinky breath). you give in, kissing him again and again and again.
"well," you say when you finally break away. "if you can't join me in bed then i guess i'm joining you in the kitchen. just let me brush my teeth and become a decent human being first."
"sure, sweetheart."
sanji's heart flutters and love overflows into his veins as he watches you skip across the kitchen. you stop in the doorway, looking back over your shoulder.
"oh, sanji?"
"hm?"
"good morning," you hum.
almost like a gift from above, sunlight spills through the windows, bathing two lovers in a quiet kitchen, and sanji knows that this is all he needs.
"good morning, my love."
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thebest-medicine · 8 months
Text
[read on ao3]
“You know, you really should smile more.” King says, leaning in, drinking in the subtle smile on Caleb’s face. “Laugh more really.” A smile, that is suddenly drawn into a tighter line as a blush creeps up Caleb’s cheeks. Kingsley narrows his eyes a little as Caleb twitches a bit, awkwardly. “What?” He tilts his head, regarding him.
There’s an ember of a giddy feeling that has been building up in Kingsley’s stomach throughout this evening’s interaction (and really, any time he and Caleb have gotten close). When Caleb looks at him, that ember begins to flicker to life, his metaphorical kindling igniting - buzzing, flipping, aching to push the wizard into a little more lightness. But, Caleb can’t maintain eye contact when he tries to open his mouth to explain. “N-Nothing. I was just remembering- thinking of, um…”
Kingsley feels something slightly uncomfortable squirm in his chest. “Something… Molly used to do?”
“Not just him.” Caleb admits lightheartedly, and Kingsley can see him fighting off a smile again. “But yes, everyone really. They really had a knack for…” He cuts himself off, biting back the growing smile.
Okay. Yes, Kingsley thinks, he will chase after whatever thread will get Caleb closer to smiling.
The tiefling leans in closer, reaches out a hand toward Caleb, who shrinks back just a hair, twitching when Kingsley enters his personal bubble. King lays a hand on his wrist, thumb gently padding over the skin. “Tell me?” He smiles and tries to catch Caleb’s eyes again.
He sees Caleb’s eyes widening for a moment before the wizard is reining it in on instinct. Caleb looks all the way away from him. His eyes shut for a second and he lets out a genuine huff of a laugh. “You already know how to ruffle feathers, in a different way than Molly did, but…” Caleb bumps shoulders with King. “I don’t know if it’s a smart move on my part to give you more ways to do so.”
Caleb’s shying away with a chuckle before Kingsley can lean into the touch. King leans forward, craning his neck around and placing a hand on Caleb’s knee. “Hey.” He hopes his expression looks sweet and kind and innocent. Caleb’s leg jumps slightly at the contact. Kingsley studies the blush rising on his cheeks, and finds himself smirking.
Caleb turns his head toward him a bit. “Perhaps,” He looks the tiefling up and down. “I could show you.”
Kingsley raises an eyebrow just as Caleb reaches forward and, mirroring him, places a hand on King’s knee. He watches the wizard curiously, when suddenly there’s a squeeze. Then another, more deliberate.
Kingsley grins, squirming slightly as the bubbling feeling inside of him boils over, filling him with a silly giddiness. “Oh.” He twitches his leg at another pinch. “I’m so glad you showed me.” He lets out a reverent sigh. “Caleb, you are so dead.”
“Maybe, once you stop laughing long enough to get your hands on me.”
Then Caleb is on him, and Kingsley is so unprepared for it that he rocks back under the minimal weight of the wizard. Fingers scribble against his body and find all the worst and most sensitive places with ease. Kingsley would love to see Caleb in this position, all blushes and squirming and laughter, but this is a pretty fucking wonderful way to spend the afternoon regardless.
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lizmitches · 1 year
Text
smoke and sirens on display - post 2x15; barbara/melissa
“Hey,” Melissa pops her head into the classroom, her presence a sudden spark. “Ava said you’re headed home. You got someone to cover? Okay to drive?” The question is asked with a mirthful grin, her cheeks pink from the cold and eyes still full of childlike wonder.
Barbara can’t help but dissect the joy Melissa exudes; not out of jealousy, per se, but a gentle curiosity. As if the idea of a simple kind of happiness—a contentment so fierce you never feel the need to search for more—is so unimaginable it needs to be studied.
“Gwen’s going to take over when the kids get back from lunch,” Barbara replies, busying herself with collecting supplies for the substitute. “And yes, I’ll be able to manage a motor vehicle without further incident, if you can believe it.”
“Just don’t pull over to light any candles,” Melissa interjects, making her way into the room and closing the door purposefully behind her. At Barbara's warning glare she adds, “What? Too soon?”
Barbara cautions a glance to the hallway as Melissa steps toward her with intention. She stands up straight, her practiced posture a little loose, exhaustion creeping in at the edges. “What are you doing?”
“Just—“ Melissa opens her arms toward her by way of explanation. "C’mere. Let me hold you for a second. The ops are outside filming Jacob pawn off his cookie pucks to passing joggers. We’re in the clear.”
"I can't." Barbara crosses her arms over her chest protectively—a cheap imitation of Melissa's embrace—just as she’d done earlier. As with many things lately, she has to suffocate the urge; starve the flame until it dies out. But Melissa is a solar flare, bright and dangerous, and Barbara fears she might ignite by proxy.
“You’re not gonna get struck by lightning, Barb. Come on, just for a second. You’ve been holding it together all day.” Melissa bites the inside of her cheek. “Worried you're gonna fall apart."
"I'll only fall apart if you touch me." She holds her palm out to Melissa’s chest, delivers a minuscule shove that forces her back by a few inches. "So don’t."
Melissa—beautiful, tender Melissa, who believes in Barbara’s goodness even when her interal ugliness, her sinfulness, bubbles to the surface—shoots her a wounded look filled with so much understanding that Barbara wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole. It’s only after she looks away that she realizes there was pity in Melissa’s eyes, too, and she wonders when every facet of her life had been reduced to kindling.
“Look, I just wanna say that, um,” Melissa hesitates, unable to find the right words. It used to be so much easier for the two of them; words rolling off their tongues so fast they could barely keep up, a frenzied undercurrent of excitement living beneath each one of their conversations. An alluring, indescribable newness. Now, Melissa hems and haws, puts her hands on her hips. It’s stilted and unfamiliar. “I know I’ve been distracted with Gary lately,” she says finally.
Barbara can’t help but roll her eyes. “For goodness’ sake, Melissa, you’re not distracted. You’re in love. With a…“ Now it’s her turn to search for words. “With a nice man who treats you how you deserve to be treated. He’s your partner.”
“Yeah, and you’re my friend.”
The word hangs between them the same way it always has. Because friend so easily gives way to family. Family becomes forever. And yet every second they stand here it becomes clear that the current iteration of their relationship is anything but permanent.
“I should have seen that something was wrong. I should have been there for you.” Melissa reaches out despite the cold shoulder, lets her hand fall on Barbara’s bicep like it had earlier. “Honey, I really am sorry.”
Barbara shakes her head. “You don’t need to carry that. I’m a big girl. I make my own decisions and start my own fires, apparently.” She picks up her work bag from underneath her desk, hoists it over her shoulder. “Gerald and I are meeting for lunch and then I’m going home to take a nap.”
“You take naps now?”
Barbara can’t help but smile, close her eyes against the question. She remembers the lazy summer afternoons toward the beginning. The giddiness and guilt giving way to heavy eyes, the way she’d push herself out of bed despite Melissa’s protestations. It was as much a punishment as anything, but it had also become something akin to tradition. A denial that gave way to drowsy truths, hushed confessions, an intimacy existing only in the inbetween.
“No,” she says, and Melissa beams. The kind of smile Barbara’s used to, hasn’t seen in nearly a year; a knowing, warm thing reserved only for her. An expression full of mutual understanding, shared history, affection. It’s like aloe. “But maybe today I’ll start.”
Melissa shoves her hands in her pockets. “I miss you.”
There’s a split second where Barbara considers ignoring it. Considers making up an excuse to walk out, to avoid the delicate balance they’ve struck since the cameras got here; since Gary came into the picture. It would all be so much easier, she thinks, to walk away without saying anything. But she knows it would continue to ferment, to bubble underneath the surface until it all broke down much more painfully. Much more publicly, heaven forbid. And after a day of being seen—by Janet and the kids and the cameras—Barbara seeks a kind of closure that can’t be replayed.
“I can’t—things are too complicated,” Barbara says, and judging by the way Melissa shifts from one foot to the other, the wince that flashes across her features, it seems she knows what’s coming next. “I know it was never simple, but it was our simple, and now—“
“Now you have a sick husband and I have a guy dumb enough to love me.” Melissa taps her heel on the floor. “Sheesh, getting broken up with doesn’t get any easier once you hit 60, does it?” She shakes out her arms like it’ll make the blow sting less. “Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”
“We’re not—Melissa. There’s nothing to break up, we were never—“
“Hey, give me this, alright?” Melissa pleads. “Look, I really don’t want to take up more space than you have room for. You’re spread thin, you’re stressed, you need to be there for Gerald. You also need to take care of yourself.”
After a day of relying on false facts, Barbara is caught off guard by hearing real ones. Melissa grabs her hand, their fingers tangling together with a sense of familiarity, and for the first time in months she doesn’t attempt to pull away.
“Things have changed. I know we’ve both been feelin’ it,” Melissa says, thumb running across Barbara’s knuckles. “So let me be the collateral damage.”
Barbara’s not sure how to respond to Melissa’s sacrifice. Has to fight with the fact that Melissa has always been the braver one, more likely to run into a burning building without looking back. But it’s her sureness accompanied by the soft look in her eyes that makes their newfound distance, their undetermined future, less terrifying. They’ll be alright, the two of them. They’ll survive.
Barbara squares her shoulders, smiles, replies the same way she would to a stranger holding the door open, a random woman complimenting her shoes. “I appreciate that.”
A clean, amicable break. She drops Melissa’s hand.
“Just want you to be happy,” Melissa murmurs. “You and the hubby—your golden years with no fire engine red-haired miscreants to worry about—that’ll do it, right?”
“I—yes. We’ll be happy.” She wants to add, I’ll always worry about you, but she extinguishes the thought.
“Good.”
“I miss you, too,” Barbara breathes, and it’s simultaneously an olive branch and a goodbye; fuse lit and seconds left until the house they’ve built is set aflame.
Her phone dings in her purse. Gerald texting to say he’s arrived at the restaurant, has ordered her favorite. He’s waiting for her, solid and breathing and alive. She can’t see through the smoke.
She loves him.
“Mel?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll take that hug now.”
Melissa’s smile is no longer bright. Her eyes don’t sparkle. She reaches out to pull Barbara in. “You got it.”
It’s different this time than all the others. Years of embraces that set off chain reactions, fireworks, explosions that engulfed them both, and now they stand in each others’ arms—pressed against each other tightly and holding, holding, holding—and there’s nothing left to say. The clock ticks. Sneakers squeak against linoleum. Birds chirp in the early spring air.
She loves her.
It’s only when Barbara extracts herself from Melissa’s arms, steps back into their new shared existence, that she realizes they’re both covered in ash.
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hxneyhxrts · 2 years
Text
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Sun Bleached || Jake “Hangman” Seresin (part 6)
Part 5
note: how are we already at part 6 oh my god. you guys, i really cannot convey how much joy it brings me to see your messages, comments, likes, reblogs, added tags, all of it. you guys are killing me. i don’t take compliments super well so i’m trying to play it off with humor but in a moment of seriousness, love you guys, thank you for looking at this.
warnings: explicit language, drinking, very vague sexual undertones for like a second
Sex on Fire
In retrospect, maybe it had been better that Jake thought Gwyn had a boyfriend.
Since their quiet talk in the back of the bar where she had mercifully quelled his fears that she was spoken for, it was like he had no control over himself. He found every excuse to be near her, talk to her, watch her, and lately touching her. Just small brushes against her when passing by or pretending to brush nonexistent lint off of her flight suit, but each caress felt like kindling.
Was it pathetic? Yes. Was he too far gone to care? Absolutely.
Weeks had passed of these light and awful touches exchanged between light coffee talk or field drills. He had gotten into the groove of being squadron leader with relative ease (and only minor complaints from some of the team, so he counted it as a win). Rooster would occasionally tease him about his little crush, though he didn’t know the full scope of Jake’s feelings. Not anymore, at least. Said crush had snowballed into something much more intense and less juvenile in the past weeks, and Jake found himself thinking of Gwyn more often than not. If he had a moment to think, it was of her. Of course, he understood what pursuing her like that could mean for the team and his career, and had resigned himself slowly over the weeks to the notion that it simply wouldn’t happen
It frightened him how rapidly she had infected him, but he figured it didn’t matter so long as he held it together for the team. No one had to know how he felt if nothing ever came of it, anyway. It would be his own secret to have and to keep, just for him (and maybe Rooster). So he selfishly sought her out, always reaching for her, content to have this and maybe only this.
—-----------
“That’s the lamest shit I’ve ever heard.”
Gwyn rolled her eyes. Alec’s incessant ranting had spurred a raging migraine that was sinking its claws into the space between her eyes and she had half a mind to tell him to kick rocks.
“It’s your 21st birthday and you want to just ‘go bowling’? Are you fucking nine?”
“Christ Alec!” she erupted finally, slamming her locker closed with a sharp and metallic ringing. “I don’t see what the big deal is! It’s just a birthday.”
The pilot scoffed, sitting up from where he had lounged out across a bench against the wall. “It’s your birthday, your 21st at that. Of course it’s a big deal. We should be at a bar all night while you get shitfaced and make decisions I can hold against you later.” He stood, crossing to her and running his hands gently up her arms. “You deserve to have fun. Just let me plan something for you.”
Alec had a face she rarely could say no to. Since the day they first met, all lanky limbs and too-wide smiles on their first day of flight school, he had a way of getting her to say yes to just about anything he asked. Slipping out after lights-out and skinny dip in the pond they had passed on their morning run? Sure. Make a game out of who could sneak into the admiral’s office without getting caught first? Absolutely. Conning her into distracting the tech who had been eyeing her for a month so he could take a girl out on a joyride? Say no more.
So, when Alec gave her that puppy dog face he knew she’d always agree to, she sighed, as much of an answer as he was going to get. Not that he needed more than that, raising his arms in victory with a small twinkle in his eyes.
“Well unless you plan on driving to the next city over, we don't have a lot of options. The only bar in town is the Hard Deck,” she complained, shoving at his chest affectionately.
“So?” he scoffed, grabbing her bag and hoisting it over his shoulder, ever the gentleman.
“So,” she started, leading him through the other lockers and to the door, “everyone we know goes there. Not very low key.”
She shouldered her weight into the heavy door, allowing Alec to slip past her with a grunt. “Who cares?”
“What if we run into someone from the team?”
The older male spun on her, searching her face for any sign she was kidding. “Isn’t that the whole point? To spend your birthday with friends?”
Gwyn groaned, pushing past him now. “They don’t know it’s my birthday and it would be weird to just randomly bring it up.”
The parking lot was still pretty full for it being this close to quitting time, but Gwyn was just grateful no one was around to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Gwyn,” Alec stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. “I love you. Truly, I do. So please know that when I say this, it’s out of love.” He took a deep breath. “But that’s the dumbest fucking thing you’ve ever said.”
Another eye roll and she was stalking towards her car once again. Alec called after her but she ignored him in favor of unlocking her driver’s side door. She had just cracked it open, when he stopped her again with a hand across the metal. “Gwyn, I’m serious. Let’s go have fun tonight. We won’t invite anyone else, just us. But I want you to actually have fun.”
Every single bad decision she had ever made was echoed in his face, the same face that always whittled her down.
“Fine,” she groaned, sliding into her car seat and slamming the door on his obnoxious cheering.
—---
She wouldn't give Alec the satisfaction of dressing up. When she opened her front door an hour later to find him in a button down that looked too pressed and crisp to be casual, she had laughed at him. “It’s a special occasion,” he had insisted, but she had agreed to wear an old sun dress from high school and refused to budge.
A dress she was not slightly regretting as she sat in the passenger seat of his car tugging the hem down to her mid-thigh every few minutes. Granted, she hadn’t worn it since she was a teenager and had developed what Alec called “a woman’s body”, but she still turned pink at the sight of it slipping up her legs so much.
Some old R&B song she had never heard cranked through her skull at full volume along with her friend’s top-of-the-lung shouting along to the words, and she found herself already grinning at the night to come.
Bowling wasn’t a good idea, anyway.
Not that she’d ever admit that to him.
He screeched into the parking lot and killed the engine in a fluid motion, jogging around to open her door and shuffle her inside with fervor that could only be fueled by sheer excitement.
“Penny!” he called as he tugged her by the hand to the bar. “Let me get two drinks, something fruity. Anything you want.”
The older bartender quirked an eyebrow, but settled when Gwyn shyly handed over her I.D. Penny smiled and she could see why Captain Mitchell spent so much time at the bar when he thought no one noticed.
“Coming right up.”
Music faltered through the chatter, the old beat up jukebox stationed against the wall working overtime to accommodate the noise level. The mood was comfortable, if not a bit more relaxed than it had felt in recent visits. Maybe that had something to do with the distinct lack of naval aviators staking their claim on the pool tables, but it was soothing nonetheless.
Penny pushed two glasses filled with something eerily close to a smoothie towards them with a wink. “I’ll start a tab.”
—-----
Fruity was a bad choice.
Gwyn had finished it too quickly, the drink tasting like juice and not at all like the sting of alcohol she had anticipated. And once she had finished her glass, leaving nothing but clumps of whip cream in the bottom, Alec had swapped it out for a new drink.
And the cycle went on.
She and the culprit were now on the makeshift dance floor, nothing more than an empty space of hardwood near the jukebox, spinning out and hawing at each other at volumes that bordered obnoxious. Several patrons had slipped in to dance with them, leaving after a few songs, but a few had taken up near permanent residence with them, joining in on the spectacle.
Hands slid across her arms and back as she was spun and twirled enough to make her nauseous, but Alec’s cackle always drew her back in when she wanted to tap out for the night. Her grin felt stitched into her cheeks, and she wondered if she had stopped smiling at all since they arrived. Her limbs felt loose and free, the complete opposite of how she’d felt earlier in the cockpit.
Hangman had been more… Jake lately. He still flirted with her in that silly way he did with every female counterpart he knew (although it never failed to make her stomach flip traitorously), but recently he seemed to go out of his way to do it to her. He was a creature of convenience, usually saving his quips for anyone who got close enough to hear them, but lately it felt like he was seeking her out to lay it on her. Gwyn wanted to see something there, something only for her, but she knew that was just how he was and how he approached women.
The touching was new, though.
Little caresses against her body when no one else seemed to be looking that felt more Jake than Hangman. He would flirt with anything that had legs, but those small intimate embraces seemed to be reserved just for her. The thought sent a pang through her chest.
So when he had walked her to her plane, chatting about different maneuvers he wanted her to try out during practice, brushing his hand against her shoulder while he rambled, she had spent the rest of the drill completely rigid. Between that and his teasing remarks through comms, she had all but fallen apart (something Alec took notice of immediately, refusing to drop his teasing until her cheeks were bloodshot).
So yes, she needed tonight. A night to just focus on the looseness in her body and the deafening roar of blood rushing through her ears. And not him. Not Jake Seresin.
She wondered if Jake thought of her the way she thought of him. If he guiltily wondered about where she was when she wasn’t around, scorning himself immediately afterwards. Or if he simply regarded her as another member of the team and nothing more.
Alec had insisted otherwise. “He’s trying to rail you,” he had teased before following it up with a crude joke about her using that to their advantage. “Flirt with him and get us a glowing letter of recommendation already.”
But that was just it. She could have a crush on him, sure, but letting it go further was a sure fire way to end her (and Alec’s) reputation before it even began. All the time she had spent proving herself against the men in her class would be for nothing if she wired herself out to the first higher up who dangled a promotion in front of her.
“Technically, he’s the same rank as you. Not really a higher up,” Alec had countered when she’d said as much to him, but it didn’t matter. How would it look if she slept with her squadron leader only a month and some change out of Top Gun? Hangman wasn’t exactly discreet in his conquests, and she knew news would get out somehow whether she wanted it to or not. This was a close knit group who were bound to share, and she didn’t know them well enough to know if they’d keep it to themselves. They were good and honorable people, she reasoned, but her gut wouldn’t allow her to trust that.
Her eyes scanned the throng of bodies that had started to crowd her as the nighttime rush flooded in. She had lost sight of Alec several songs ago, and didn’t stand a chance locating him in this sea of people that surrounded her on all sides.
She pushed through the crowd, offering small apologies when she could, and traveled in the direction she thought the bar might be.
When had it gotten so loud in here?
Rough hands fell on her arm, pulling her back rather harshly. She followed the hand up an arm to find she was face to face with someone about her age, the perfect picture of “frat boy douchebag” if she had ever seen one. The guy was immediately leaning in to her space, breath hot and sticky as it poured over her face. She cringed internally.
“Where you headed?” and even his voice slithered across her skin unpleasantly. She swallowed.
“I was gonna go grab another drink,” she lied, casting a glance sideways and praying she’d spot that familiar mop of hair over the crowd.
Frat Guy slid his hand down her arm in what she assumed was supposed to be a seductive caress but it only made her stomach hurt.
“Stay for another dance and I’ll go get you a drink.”
Red flags shot up immediately, her senses sharpening and honing in on how terribly wrong the words sounded coming from him. “That’s okay, I got it.”
“I insist,” he pushed, stepping closer to her and fuck, where was Alec?
“That’s enough,” came a stern voice from behind her and then there were large hands planted firmly on her hips. Hands that pulled her back against a very broad, very strong chest that immediately felt like safe haven.
Jake.
The pilot’s grip on her waist was almost bruising and she craned her neck to look up at him (since when was he so tall?) and the scowl that took up his face. He didn’t look at her, choosing to keep a stern glare at Frat Guy who had taken several steps back, raising his hands in defense.
“Sorry,” he sputtered. “I didn’t realize she had a boyfriend.”
Jake’s hold tightened even more, fisting the thin cotton of her dress in his grip. “And now you know,” he bit out with pure malice. “Fuck off.”
The other man skittered away, shoving between people until he disappeared from sight. Gwyn released a breath that had clogged itself in her throat.
They stayed like that for several moments, Jake’s hands flexing against her hips while she tried to calm her stuttering heart. Whether it beat because of the situation or the way he held her wasn’t important.
It wasn’t.
He leaned down, suddenly, breaths curling over the shell of her ear delicately as he spoke to her. “I’m taking you to the bar. I’m going to hold your hand so I don’t lose you,” he husked. “Is that-” he swallowed. “Is that okay?”
Fearing words would fail her, Gwyn nodded, and inhaled sharply as one of his hands slowly dropped from her waist to grab hers. His hands were calloused and strong, completely enveloping hers in a way that made her want to sigh. He tugged her behind him carefully as he expertly weaved through the hoard, and it almost looked like people were parting for him. Soon, she found herself at the bar where he once again grabbed her hips and lifted her into a stool before claiming the one next to her. His hard stare leveled across the bar and Gwyn found herself drawn into him, watching how his jaw clenched and unclenched under her eyes, and god maybe it was the alcohol but she wanted to touch him. She would have, had he not slid a glass of water across the bar to her.
“Drink,” he commanded, leaving no room for argument or negotiation. She did so without hesitation, finding herself suddenly eager to please him. He could’ve asked her to jump off a cliff for all she cared, especially after saving her from some jackass with wandering hands.
She downed the water in one go like she had been stranded, and had barely set the glass down when Jake was flagging Penny down for a second one. “Again,” he pushed, tone still hard. She raised the glass to her lips and prepared to chug but he stopped her with a small touch on her chin. “Slowly,” he ordered.
So she drank in small sips, desperately looking around the bar for anything to focus on instead of him. His knee bounced rapidly and she clenched down on the desire to rest her hand on it.
Damn fruity drinks.
“How did you find me?” she nearly whispered, but he heard it. His spine straightened as he leaned towards her and the closeness only brought on a new wave of neediness within her. The need to be closer, the need to touch him, all of it.
“Alec found me over at the pool tables and asked if I had seen you. I went looking around for you after that.”
He had gone looking for her. Heat bloomed in her chest at the sentiment.
“Happy birthday by the way.”
Her blood chilled at his smirk, and she threw her head back with a groan. “Did Alec tell you?”
Jake’s eyes suddenly glanced down to where his hands were wringing together against the bar top. “No,” he muttered.
“Then how-”
“I’m squadron leader, baby,” he smirked, but even in her stupor she could see the discomfort lining the corners of it. “A good one, too. It’s my job and right to know everything about my pilots.”
Gwyn matched his smirk, more playful than she could help. “You looked at my file.”
It wasn’t meant to be accusatory, but Jake smiled at the challenge. “Maybe I did.” He laughed, pushing the glass of water back up to her lips gently. “Even if I didn’t, it wouldn’t take a genius to see you’ve had a few drinks, and I know Penny is religious about checking I.D.”
Stupid brilliant wonderful Jake Seresin.
“Do the others know?” she muttered. Jake seeing her out on her birthday was bad enough, but having the rest of her team battering her with questions and teasing once she was fully sober wasn’t something she could face.
Jake smiled, hands sliding across the bar to run along the back of her hand which she subconsciously turned over so he could run his digits across her palm. He swallowed heavily watching the movement, taking several moments before answering. “I don’t think so. And they won’t hear it from me, if that’s what you want.”
This. This is what she never saw him give to others, this quiet reassurance and gentleness. He gave himself away freely by means of flirting and charm, but this was just for her. At least she hoped it was.
Just Jake.
Not Hangman.
It was that thought that spurred her into grabbing his fingers, settling their hands in her lap as she played with them bashfully. This was crossing boundaries they hadn’t breached yet, and fuck she hoped she hadn’t ruined everything, but then Jake was relaxing his grip, drawing small circles on her knee.
“I’m gonna call a taxi,” she said as nerves settled in her stomach.
Jake palmed her thigh, effectively stilling her completely. “I’m driving you home.”
And that was that.
She sent a text to Alec to let him know she had left and then another to Phoenix asking if she would call him a cab and make sure he got home safely.
Jake’s car was everything she expected and then some. Some cool classic convertible that screamed “look at me” with a full leather interior because of course it did.
He opened the passenger door for her and guided her in with a hand at the small of her back. They were on the road in minutes while the radio played the kind of music her dad would listen to on Saturday mornings while making breakfast. Tomorrow, she could panic at how right it felt to be here with Jake. How close to being “home” it felt.
Tomorrow.
For now, the wind was pulling at her hair softly as they cruised well below the speed limit through the streetlights. Jake had been noticeably silent, the kind of quiet that meant he was thinking hard about something. Gwyn had almost opened her mouth to ask about it when he lifted his hand from the wheel and settled it on her leg gently.
“So,” she started, mirth lacing the word as she attempted to break up the tension in his brow. “Boyfriend, huh?”
Jake’s face screwed up in confusion before he threw his head back in a full belly laugh. “He wouldn’t have left you alone otherwise, baby.”
‘Maybe he would’ve,’ she wanted to say. ‘Because it was you telling him to.’
Instead she turned her face to watch the lights and houses pass, a content smile pulling at her mouth.
—------------
Jake half-heartedly listened to Gwyn’s directions to her house, already knowing the way but not wanting to tell her that. Besides, he wanted to hear her talk.
Her skin was so warm. It was all he could do to not let go of the wheel completely just have both of his hands on her. The soft amber glow of passing streetlights framed her perfectly and the image of her in his car, smiling as she leaned against the window while his palm sat on her leg, was killing him. He wished he could take a picture of her, of this moment, and keep it forever. Tape it to the speedometer in his plane, frame it in his house somewhere where he could always see her, anything just to keep this very picture with him for the rest of his life.
It was like second nature to have his hands on her. Not in a sexual way necessary (though that train of thought had knocked the wind out of him several times over the past few weeks), but just feeling her. Seeing someone else put their hands on her- some fucking loser, at that- had nearly set him off. Had Gwyn not been there, pliant under his hands and leaning back into his chest, he probably would’ve put those navy workouts to use. And fuck, it was so possessive and out of line for him to feel that way, but it’s how he felt. He couldn’t pin the exact moment he had lost his mind, but he suspected it was around the time he had heard that goddamn laugh crackle through a shitty plane radio.
He pulled into her driveway carefully, glancing at the dashboard clock.
2 a.m.
The drive usually wouldn’t have taken this long, but he had selfishly driven below the speed limit just to stretch out their time together.
Once again, he opened the door for her and held the small of her back while he walked her to the door. She spent several minutes fumbling with her keys before pushing the door open. He followed her in without invitation, insisting that he just wanted to see to it that she got to bed safely.
He was nothing if not a gentleman.
Jake surveyed the space, the knickknacks and photos that littered nearly every available surface and sucked in a breath at how her everything was. He had just bent down to look at an old family photo when a small lump of fur pushed against his legs.
“You have a cat,” he observed, finally breaking the silence. Gwyn turned to him halfway through pulling her shoes off. Color spilled into her cheeks, as if she was embarrassed that he was seeing this much of her personal life.
“Disco,” she said simply, lazily raising her hand to gesture at the small creature now bounding its way down the hall.
He snorted. Of course.
Gwyn rose to full height again, looking up at him nervously. “Thank you, for uh, helping me out. And also driving me home.”
And then she was hugging him.
Her arms curled around neck and her fingers just barely grazed across the back of his neck. He shivered. Finding his strength, Jake lifted his arms to wrap them around her waist and greedily planted his nose in her hair. Only for a moment, that was all he would take. All he would allow himself was a moment.
But she didn’t pull away.
Instead, she clutched at the collar of his shirt and laid her forehead against his chest. He prayed she couldn’t feel the pounding of his heart against her cheek.
When she did pull away, he wanted to yank her back in. He wished she was more sober, just so he could kiss her, but he supposed it was a good thing she wasn’t so he wouldn’t mess this up.
Squadron leader.
He was her squadron leader.
And that was all he could be.
A lump had formed in his throat, and he forced himself to choke out the words that had been tugging at him all night. “I got you something,” he gulped.
Her brow furrowed, and God he wanted to kiss it. Jake reached for the box in his pocket, the weight of it like a stone in his stomach.
She took it hesitantly, opening it with a delicacy that killed him. Her mouth dropped open at the small chain inside, a small plane charm hanging from the metal. She gaped at him openly and he found himself more nervous than he had ever been. He had flown missions the likes of which the navy had never seen, finished top of every program he ever entered, and faced certain death more than what he could consider healthy.
Nothing compared to this.
Nothing compared to the way her eyes looked at him from beneath her lashes and the pretty tinge of pink of her cheeks. Nothing.
“A birthday present,” he stuttered out. “Consider it a gift from the team. Figured it was prettier than dog tags.”
She still remained quiet.
It was so silent he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears and he contemplated just turning around and leaving, praying she wouldn’t remember this when she woke up. He had waited all day to give this to her for that very reason, unable to face her sober while he poured out a small part of himself to her.
She closed her mouth finally, glancing back down at the necklace before looking at him again.
“Put it on me?” she asked gently.
She didn’t even have to ask. He would do anything she wanted at that moment. He would've raked himself across hot coals if it would have made her look at home the way she was just then. He had never wished to be anyone besides himself before, but he would’ve killed to just have a minute where he wasn’t squadron leader and she wasn’t his subordinate and they could just be Jake and Gwyn and he could kiss her and hold her and tell her how pretty she looked when she was looking at him.
He didn’t trust his voice, so he simply nodded and reached for the chain. Gwyn turned around and lifted her hair so he could slip the necklace around her throat and he allowed himself another few selfish seconds to trail his fingers down the column of her neck and across the tops of her shoulders. His fingers were shaking. When had they started shaking?
Gwyn faced him again, face soft and eyes clear when she looked at him. Without warning, she pulled him in for another hug, fiercer this time. Jake wanted to bottle up the feeling of her in his arms and indulge in it forever.
When she pulled away this time, he kept his arms around her waist. ‘Just a little bit longer,’ he told himself.
“Thank you Jake.”
His name was like honey on her tongue. No one had ever made his name sound like a melody but she did. God, he was in so deep.
She walked him to the door and leaned against the doorframe while he walked to his car. Before he could get in, she hollered after him.
“See you later, Hangman.”
He smiled. “Just name the time and place, Cheek.”
She grinned back at him, lingering on the doorstep for another moment. “Bye.”
Jake laughed softly as he finally leaned into his car. “Bye, baby.”
And if he sat there for a few more minutes after she had gone back inside, waiting until her lights had shut off and he knew she had made it to bed, well then nobody had to know.
Part 7
taglist: @rachelccollier @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @the-winter-marvel33 @barbiewritesstuff @dilfsandtherapy @dempy @itevilhag
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myveryownfanfiction · 4 months
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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
tags: @illiana-mystery, @cassieuncaged, @onedirectionlovers2014
warnings: swearing, burning a letter (fire)
AN: yes yes this is based of something that just happened to me so u know I had to write about it to get my feelings out.
I rubbed a hand down my face as I read over the letter again. My sibling was asking to meet up, rebuild our relationship. I bit my lip, trying to keep my raging emotions at bay. Dan walked into the kitchen and kissed my head.
“hi.” I muttered as he went to the fridge to grab something to eat.
“That doesn’t sound good.” He said before straightening back up and turning towards me. Dan looked me over and focused on the piece of paper in my hand. “What’s that? And why is it pissing you off?”
“came in a Christmas card. From my…” I paused a second. “The other offspring.” Dan nodded slowly and made his way over to sit down next to me. I let him take the letter from me. We sat in silence as he read over the letter. Sighing, Dan threw the paper to the table and got up to hug me from behind.
“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” Dan whispered. I leaned back against him and closed my eyes. “Come on. I have an idea.” He reached down and grabbed my hand. I let Dan pull me up and take me towards the balcony. He grabbed the letter and the trash can before opening the screen. Dan put the trash can down and tossed the letter in. He dug through his pocket for the lighter he carried with him. “You want to do the honors?” He asked. I stared at him confused.
“do what?” I asked as I watched Dan flick it. Dan grabbed some kindling from the bucket next to our fire pit and lit it.
“last chance.” Dan said before tossing the kindling into the can. I watched as the letter caught fire and Dan pulled me close to watch it burn. “It’s not perfect but at least it should help you feel better.” I nodded with a small smile. “Next one that comes, just burn it.”
“yeah.” I agreed, as I watched the fire blaze. “It does make me feel better.” Dan kissed my head and sat down on the lounge chair before pulling me into his lap. We cuddled while the letter continued to burn.
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