#had this conversation in my head for montHS

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Just know you're stronger than you think

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, J - Just know you're stronger than you think

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader

There's a been a lot of tears writing this one, but it comes from the heart.

Shoutout to @alotofpockets for being one my biggest supports when writing and dealing with my rants and emotions, massively appreciate the virtual shoulder to lean on! 💗

"Why is it that the people we care about so much are also the ones' that hurt us the most?"

That particular question has been on your mind ever since it happened, two whole days ago.

"Did something happen?" The therapist, sitting opposite you questions, her voice full of concern.

Fumbling with the strings of your Leahs' hoodie that you are wearing, you slowly nod and look at the older woman, "My mum showed up, completely unannounced."

The memories of the past few days begin to replay in your head as you remember the conversation very clearly.

"Hi sweetheart," You're shocked to open the front door and come face to face with your mother, who you haven't even heard of in a few months, following the last conversation that you had with her.

Yet here she stood, smiling like there was nothing the matter. Had she forgotten what happened?

"Mom? Wha... What are you doing here?" You're confused to say the least and you couldn't understand why she was here, at your front door, after all of this time.

"I wanted to come and see you," The woman replied, still continuing to smile condescendingly at you.

Your eyes furrowed in confusion, "And you didn't think to let me know first?" You questioned her.

"I didn't think I would need to," Your mother was quick to respond, "And besides, I tried to call, but you've been avoiding me, haven't you?" She asked, knowingly.

"I've had stuff going on," You admitted to her quietly, shrugging your shoulders.

The older woman hummed in response, "I know, you were in the hospital, and guess where I had to find that out? The news, social media-- You didn't think to call your own mother?!" She barked at you, like it was her right to know about what's been going in your life.

She didn't deserve that right, not when shes' not bothered with you for as long as you can remember.

"I guess... I guess I forgot," You mumbled, feeling ten times smaller like your mother always has a way of making you feel like that.

It  was like a flip switched right there and then, your mother's smile changed to a scowl right in front of you.

"After everything I have done for you, and you just throw it back in my face, Y/N!" The women shouted angrily, her emotions completely changing in a blink.

The therapist sat opposite you, listening to you completely as you tell her about the conversation and relayed it back to her, "Okay, and how did that make you feel? How did you handle it?" She asks.

"The same way that I always did," You murmur, still fumbling with the hoodie strings, "I blew up."

"Mum, I haven't been well-- I tried to kill myself. I wanted to die, I... I tried to end my life because I didn't want to be here anymore!" You completely poured your emotional vulnerability out to the woman, hoping that she'd comfort you, something in which you deeply craved.

The woman literally scoffed and shook her head, "And you don't think that's incredibly selfish to do? What about me-- Wha... You can't leave me, Y/N!" She exclaimed in disbelief.

Your initial confusion turned to anger very quickly, how could she make it all about herself, even now?

"Mum, I'm the one that's been suffering and in pain, this whole damn time!" You didn't mean to yell at her, but something inside you snapped.

"You don't think I have? Y/N, I've been in pain for a lot longer than you have-- You don't know the half of it!" Your mother shouted right back at you, completely forgetting the fact you were both outside in broad daylight where anyone could hear the shouting back and forth.

The very sentence made you realise how inconsiderably selfish she has always been, and she will still continue to be.

"Why has it always got to be about you? I can't even talk to you because you're so wrapped up in yourself-- See this, this is the reason I didn't tell you because yet again, you just once again go and make it about yourself!" You were seething with anger, you didn't care at this point which neighbour did hear you, "I needed you, mum, I really... I really needed you and you weren't there." Your voice was vulnerable and raw, showing the true hurt you felt right there.

"Because you didn't tell me that you needed me, Y/N," Your mother threw it back in your face, having the audacity to even tut at you, "How could I when you don't keep in touch anymore?" She asked.

You really did need your mum, but once again, she was nowhere to be seen when you did.

"She doesn't get it, she never has. Shes' always been this selfish and I've never realised..." You speak directly to your therapist, once again showing your vulnerability as the tears continue to spill down your cheeks.

Your therapist nods and continues to listen, shifting the paper in her hands completely aside, "Did you tell her how you felt?" She wonders.

"I did," You nod in response, "It was hard, but... I did it."

"I deserve to know if theres' something wrong with you, Y/N,'' Your mother stated, like it was her god-given right to know.

Was it really?

"I'm telling you now, aren't I, mum?" You responded, quietly.

Your mother exhaled a sigh and shook her head, "Were you alone in the hospital?" She questioned.

"No, I had Leah--" You were cut off before you could finish that sentence.

Your mother had the audacity to scoff, "Leah is not your mother, Y/N. I am!" She stated, firmly.

"Yeah, well shes' been there a lot more than you have in the last few years!" You confessed your inner thoughts, you were damn right about that statement.

Leahs' been there a lot more than your mum ever has been.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Your mother questioned in disbelief.

"It means... It means I'm done, mum. I'm done with always having to be second best-- I'm done with you and your selfishness! I'm just... I'm done now!" You told her, not having the energy to keep up this argument with her as you deflated your shoulders.

Your mother had the nerve to look at you hurt and it made you feel instant guilt about what you said, "All that I have done for you, and this is how I am treated? By my own daughter!" She said quietly, barely louder than a whisper.

"Mum, I'm sorry... But I can't, I can't do this anymore," Your telling her nothing but the truth, your tired of the bickering, your so tired of it and its' draining you both mentally and physically, "I love you because your my mum, but I'm done, I can't... I think its' best that you go."

"I'm the one whos' always been there, Y/N. I am the one... I am the one whos' been there when that deadbeat of a father walked out on us. He walked and I stayed, I didn't have too. I could have given you up but I stayed and this is what I get?" Your mothers' words hurt, they're gaslighting and manipulative, but you know this is exactly what she is like.

You have to try and remain strong in this decision.

"I think you should go now, mum. I... I don't want you here anymore," You told her, quietly as you avoided looking at her, "Please, just go."

"Y/N, you can't just push me away. I don't deserve to be treated like this," The women continued to gaslight you, showing the toxic traits of her personality.

Shaking your head, you remained firm on your decision, "It's always the same thing with you, mum. Just... Just fuckin' go!" You exclaimed, trying to keep your tears at bay until she left.

You watched as your mothers' face turned to look like complete thunder, "Don't you swear  at me, young lady!" She shouted, enraged.

This time, you couldn't help but scoff, "Please, you can't tell me what to do. Just leave and never come back!" You demanded.

"Y/N," Your mother pleaded, but you didn't want to hear it.

Your therapist leant forward to pass you the box of tissues and looked at you in great sympathy, "And then what happened?" She asks.

"Leah showed up," You tell her, giving her a brief smile while trying to harshly wipe the tears away.

"I think you should do what she says. She's asked you to leave and you're not welcome here," Leah appeared behind your mother, coming back from a quick trip to the shops to pick up some much needed essentials and was shocked to see the women on her doorstep after all this time.

"You!" Your Mother turned round to see the voice behind her as she glared, "You've poisined my own daughter against me!"

"Me?" Leah scoffed in response before she shook her head, "That wasn't me, I think you'll find that was all done by you. So you can see Y/N is upset, so please Y/M/N, just go because like I said before, you're not welcome here." Her words were firm and it made you smile slightly with the way that the blonde fought in your corner.

"So, she left?" Your therapist questions, curiously.

You nod in agreement and use your sleeves to wipe your face, "She left, I felt... I guess I felt relieved, free almost? I... I just wish that things could be different, you know?" You tell her, confused about the feelings you have.

Your therapist smiled at you sympathetically, "You don't deserve to be treated like this, Y/N. Even if its' your own mother and you did the right thing here-- Remember we talked about healthy boundaries? Those apply to family members as well." She tells you.

"I know, it just hurts," You murmur, feeling complete exhaustion after spilling everything out in the open.

"It will for a bit, but then it'll heal. This is about you, Y/N," Your therapist continues to speak open and honestly to you, "It will take time to heal, but you're strong enough to do it, and you're not alone either." She states, kindly.

"Rough session?" Leah questions in concern as she glances at you beside where she sits in the driver's seat.

You must be somewhat predictable, or she can tell from the red puffy eyes and tear stain cheeks.

It may just be the latter one.

"Yeah," You murmur in response, you barely have the effort to even want to vocually communicate right now.

Leah continues to look at you in further concern, "Do you want to talk about it?" She offers.

"No, I don't... I don't want to talk about it," Your quick enough to disagree with that.

That was a complete lie, you did want to talk about it. Even if you won't admit it though.

"Okay, that's fine. You know where I am though if you need me, bubs." Leah sends you a gentle smile and squeezes your knee to let you know she's here for you.

"Thanks," You lean your head on the window, watching the passing traffic as you head back home to the flat you shared with the blonde.

The rest of the ride home was quiet, you felt so in your head right now.

Therapy was meant to help, right? Why did it feel like the complete opposite, right now.

"I'm gonna make tea, what do you--" Leahs' words are cut short with the sound of your bedroom door slamming shut behind you, "I'll be out here if you need me at all." She calls out, hoping that you can hear her.

You do hear her, but you just don't have the energy to verbally respond right now.

You used it all in therapy, pouring your emotions out and showing your vulnerability, and that's something which rarely ever happens.

You keep yourself shut away in your bedroom for the rest of the day.

Leah of course has tried to prise you out of your room, but you are very much reluctant to leave your confined space.

You don't want to talk anymore today, you'd already done enough of that with the therapist.

So instead you bury yourself in a blanket, shamelessly clutching hold of the little stuffed green dinosaur that you won at a fair when you were eight, while you just sob endlessly into your pillow.

"Why is it that the people we care about so much are also the ones' that hurt us the most?" The question still plays on your head in a loop, because even now, you still don't understand the answer to it.

What shocks you the most is the fact that your mum hasn't bothered even once to contact you.

That shit hurts, to realise that shes' not bothered about any of it.

Not a single thing.

Somehow during the time you've spent in your room, you end up crying most of the time. Unfortunately, the habits' become more familiar over the last few months than you realise, all because of that woman.

There's a knock at your door, followed by the blondes' voice, "Bubs?"

"G' way," You mumble from underneath the covers, trying to block out the rest of the world.

Hearing the door creep open, you know that Leah isn't going to do that, "I heard you crying. I'm not going to leave you when you're this upset." She states, firmly.

"I don't want... I don't want to talk," You stutter your words, trying to control your sobs no matter how difficult that is.

"That's okay, we don't have to talk about things," Leah moves further into the room as her heart breaks at the sight of you curled up into a ball in the middle of your bed, clutching a hold of the pillow with tear stained cheeks, "Oh, bubs. C'mere, my girl."

That sight was enough for Leah to swiftly move to lie behind you in your bed, gently scoop you up and pull you closer to her, to be able to allow you the comfort even if you didn't want it.

The blonde knew different, she knew not to believe you when you said you didn't want to talk, she allows you the space but shes' not going to allow you to be completely torn up about this.

"Le," Your voice trembles, you don't have the words to say right now, but your grateful for the blonde being there.

Leah quietly shushes you and wraps her free arm around you, "I know, I know it hurts. You don't have to say anything, but know I'm here for you, regardless."

"Why... I don't get why, why does it hurt this much?" You're completely heartbroken, you thought pushing your mother away would help with things, but it makes it all that worse.

"I wish I could tell you the answer there, bubs," Leah murmurs and rocks you back and forth slightly in her arms, "Sometimes' it hurts to do it, but it's' for the best, you know?"

"S... She hasn't even phoned me. She doesn't care about me," You cry openly, showing the raw vulnerability you felt about this situation.

You feel like you've been abandoned, somewhat.

Parents aren't meant to do that, but yet its' easy for enough for it to happen.

And now you're the one in the wrong? It doesn't make sense.

"It hurts now, but things will get better," Leah tells you honestly, running her slender fingers through the strands of your own hair, "And I promise to never leave you alone, ever, okay? You've always got me!" She promises.

"You... You've always been more like a mum to me, more than my mother ever has," You admit to her through small sobs, shuffling around to be face to face with her as you move to rest your head on her chest, "Thank you for never giving up on me or leaving."

Leahs' heart cracks just that little bit more as she smiles sympathetically, "Your my kid, regardless of blood or not, and I love you so so much," She speaks from the heart, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, "The day I met you, it felt like one of the best days of my life and I feel so grateful to be a part of your life, kid."

"I'm grateful you're a part of my life too, Le," You murmur quietly, your voice is hoarse from how much you've been crying but you really do mean what you say, "I wish you were my mum instead, you wouldn't abandon me like she did." You admit, your voice is still no louder than a whisper so you're not sure if shes' even heard it.

"I'd love to be your mum as well bubs, you deserve so much better," Leahs' response is nothing but the honest truth.

Your eyes start to flutter shut, "I really wish it could happen." 

Somehow you feel closer to falling asleep, you don't know what it is but you feel that with the presence of Leah there with you, it's a lot easier to fall asleep.

"I'll make it happen," Leah whispers, still running her slender fingers through your hair gently, "Get some sleep, yeah? It's been a long day."

There wasn't any response from you as you'd somehow managed to fall asleep in that short space of time.

"Bubs," Leah peers her head over slightly to see you fast asleep and she can't help but chuckle fondly, "I mean it when I say it and I'll keep that promise, kid. You're never going to be alone again." She states, firmly.

The blondes' heart aches so much for all the crap that you have had to put up with through the years and now she'll do anything to make it better.

"Sleep well, bubs. I love you," Leah whispers, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your forehead as she pulls you closer towards her, allowing you to sleep practically on top of her, allowing her to lie there and think through things with the determination of a way for you to finally be happy.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[beneathstarryskies]

Word Count: 2,986

Summary: At his low point, Geto decided to take a change on striking up a conversation with someone at a cafe. This conversation drives him into finding a new purpose.

Warnings: smut, fem!reader, oral (f!recieving), unprotected sex, depression, AU!Geto (he doesn't become a genocidal maniac), pussy saves lives, also Nanami makes a brief appearance

A/N: Shout out to my babygirl @actuallysaiyan for helping me stay inspired to finish this ❤️

Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. 

It’s a brutal, mind-numbing cycle Geto has been stuck in for so long he doesn’t know if he’s capable of doing anything else. No matter what kind of path he tries to imagine for his future, it also comes down to the same cycle. He doesn’t recognize himself anymore. He never sees Satoru or Shoko. He feels stuck. Like a caged animal being prodded with sticks and struck by stones. 

It’s like watching a car crash and being unable to look away. Or worse it was like hearing the gunshot and then seeing Riko fall to the ground. That feeling of utter helplessness has never left except now he’s the one holding the gun and he doesn’t know where he’s going to point it. 

“I’m fucking done,” he hears Kento Nanami’s voice. The utter disdain in his voice is what grabs Suguru’s attention. Nanami is carrying a duffel bag on his shoulders, and Suguru sees him in something aside from his uniform for the first time.

“Kento, what’s wrong?” Suguru asks, setting aside his soda to walk outside. When Kento turns to face him, there’s an anxious look in his eyes. His jaw is set tight. 

“What are we dying for, Suguru?” Nanami asks. “I mean seriously?” 

“To…protect…” Suguru winces at the lack of conviction in his words. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Nanami rolls his eyes. “I’m out of here. I want to fucking live, okay?” 

Live. 

What does a life without sorcery even look like? Nanami has always been a bright spark of intelligence, and he’d shyly told Suguru a few months back he’d been accepted into college. Suguru wonders if he’d ever be able to get into college, but somehow he doubts it. 

He watches the younger sorcerer get into the car and then leave. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see Nanami again, and part of him hopes the answer is no. He wants Nanami to live as he said. 

Geto goes to grab his soda from where he left it, then he starts towards his dorm. He can’t stop thinking about what Nanami said. When he returns to his room, he changes clothes instead of moping around as he had planned. He puts on black pants and a sweater before going outside to get on his motorcycle. He rides into the city, not knowing exactly where he’s going until he ends up in front of a coffee shop. He doesn’t know why he stops here, but it’s better than wandering. 

He walks inside, and heads to the counter to order a coffee. He’s standing at the other end waiting for it to get done when he notices you. 

You’re sitting in a table by the window, scribbling away in your notebook. He can hear you humming softly, a song he vaguely recognizes. He’s never been one to approach strangers like this, but he likes the look of you. You’re pretty and you seem just unaffected. 

“Hi,” he says shyly as he approaches you with his coffee. “Can I sit?” 

“Oh, sure!” you smile softly and move your things. He’d expected you to look around at least to see if the other seats were taken before accepting him into your space, but you didn’t. “Nice bike,” you say sweetly. “I saw you pull up earlier.” 

“Ah, thanks. Sometimes I think it takes more work to keep her on the road than it’s worth.” 

“Everyone needs a pet project,” you shrug. 

Geto grins but hides it behind taking a sip of his coffee. You close your notebook and slide it into your bag. 

“I’m Geto Suguru,” he introduces himself. You smile and introduce yourself as well. He can’t remember the last time he spent more than five minutes in the company of a non-sorcerer. Ever since what happened at the temple…Seeing all those people cheer for Riko’s death…The thought of non-sorcerers made his stomach turn. 

“Do you go to the university?” you ask, and he realizes he has ventured close to the college. He wonders if it’s the same one Kento will be attending. 

“Me? No,” he chuckles. “You?” 

You nod, “Yeah, I’m actually between classes right now.” 

“What are you studying?” 

The second the question leaves his lips, a spark of excitement enters your eyes. You begin rambling animatedly about your studies, your future plans, and sharing pieces of knowledge you’ve picked up. His heart swells with affection as the way you smile when talking about it. Then, your smile fades into shyness and you look down at your coffee cup. 

There had been a time 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on like that,” you say shyly.

“No, please, don’t apologize,” he smiles. He wants to reach out to take your hand. Not just for your comfort but for his sanity, he wants to seek connection. His hand is already on the table, fingers stretching out in search of yours. He stops himself, but barely. He closes his fist and pulls his hand back. If you’d noticed, it didn’t dull the sparkle in your eyes. 

“I have to go to class, but would you like to exchange numbers?” you ask, and you’re already digging your notebook out of your bag again. 

“I’d like that,” Suguru grins as he watches you scribble your name and number. You pass it to him, and he feels a jolt of happiness when your fingers touch. It’s been so long since he felt someone’s touch. 

“Will you text me, for real?” you ask as you put your notebook away again. 

“I really will,” he smiles and carefully folds the paper.

Suguru returns to campus feeling something shift inside of him. He wants to live. 

Satoru is leaning against the wall beside the door to Suguru’s dorm. He’s looking at his phone, feeling so secure he doesn’t even look up to see who is approaching. 

“Where have you been?” Satoru asks. “I’ve been waiting forever.” 

“I went out on my bike,” Suguru opens the door. “Are you coming in?” 

“Yeah, duh,” Satoru follows him inside his dorm. It’s been ages since they hung out, but it’s never awkward between them. Still, Satoru notices something is different about Suguru. He seems relaxed. “So what have you been up to?” 

“Oh, you know, exorcise, consume, repeat…” Suguru wonders what will happen to the curses inside of him. When he leaves the jujutsu world, he guesses the curses will remain a part of him. 

“Nanami left,” Satoru says as he sits on the bed. 

“I know, I spoke with him.” 

“Too bad…I like Nanami,” Gojo pouts. 

“He hates you.” 

“No he doesn’t, he just pretends he does.” 

Suguru smirks, “Alright, Satoru.” Suguru leans against the wall, studying Satoru carefully before speaking again. This time he’s quieter, more serious. It’s a tone Satoru knows requires attention. “Have you ever though about leaving?” 

“Where would I go?” Satoru shrugs. 

“I suppose it’s different for you.”

Unlike most sorcerers, Satoru benefits greatly from being a sorcerer just by being who he is. He’s afforded almost any privilege imaginable. Suguru doubts Satoru would know how to function as a normal member of society. 

“Are you going to leave, Suguru?”

“I don’t know, Satoru.” 

**

You were shocked when Geto texted you. Part of you had figured he’d forget your shared moment in the coffee shop. You spend weeks chatting back and forth. You like him. He seems kind and intelligent in ways different from most of the people you meet. He hasn’t pushed for a date or in-person meeting again. He doesn’t ask for nudes or surprise you with a dick pic. You almost wonder if you’ve imagined him. 

Then, one night, after weeks of texting, he asks if you want to go out the coming weekend. You’re shocked, but thrilled, to receive the invitation. You agree to meet at a restaurant for dinner. 

For the next few days, Suguru focuses on settling into his new apartment so it’s not a mess on your date night. He doesn’t want to assume you’ll come back to his place, but his time as a sorcerer taught him to be prepared for any possibility. 

His preparation proves to be a good idea on the night of your date when he talks you into coming back to his place. It didn’t take much convincing on his part. You’ve been wanting to spend more time with him ever since you started texting. He holds your hand as he opens the door to let you inside. 

His heart is racing as he guides you to the couch and lets you settle in. You notice right away how sparse the decoration is. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he offers. Truth be told, lately, he’s been drinking more than he should to fight off the loneliness of living outside of a dorm for the first time in so long. 

“I’m okay,” you smile and pat the spot beside you on the couch. “Come here.” 

He feels nervous as he sits next to you. His hand wraps around yours and he squeezes gently. A smile crosses your face as you look up at him and say, “This has been a great date.” 

“I agree,” he blushes. “It’s been a while since I went on a date.”

Your eyes move down to his mouth. He sees your tongue dart along your bottom lip and he knows what you want. A pang of panic hits him. He has a fear of you being able to taste the disdainful curses on his tongue. You lean closer, your lips parting with anticipation. At the last moment, he turns his head away so you end up sloppily kissing his cheek. You’re mortified at the mistake, then your heart sinks into your chest when you realize he’d dodged your kiss on purpose. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you swallow hard, trying to clear the lump in your throat. 

He watches your face drop. The look of sadness in your eyes breaks his heart. He holds your hands and tries to think of a way to explain this to you. He doesn’t know how to explain the fear of you being disgusted by the taste of his lips. He kisses your knuckles. 

“I apologize,” he says softly. 

“Do you not want to kiss?” 

He blushes, “I do…But…” 

“You’re scared?” 

It’s a shot in the dark, but your aim is surprisingly good. Geto’s cheeks burn and he looks down at your intertwined hands. 

“I am terrified,” he admits. 

“We don’t have to,” you assure him. 

Your understanding only makes him want to kiss you more. He leans in. His lips are gentle and tentative as they press against yours. His fingers dig into the couch cushion in anticipation of that moment when you pull back to look at him with disgust when you taste the curses on his breath. He gasps in a mixture of shock and relief when instead deepens the kiss. In the split moment of openness offered by his gasp, your tongue slides into his mouth. His hand moves from the couch cushion to cup your cheek, and he moans as he eagerly drinks up your kiss. The sweetness of your mouth provides a temporary relief. He finds himself chasing your lips when you pull away, a shy smile tugging at the curve of your cheeks. 

“Was that scary?” you ask. 

“Not at all,” he groans and kisses you again. 

You tangle your hands in his long black hair. When you reach the roots, you tug gently. He moans against your mouth, shoving his tongue between your teeth to seek out your tongue with his. 

The thought crosses his mind that you must taste this good everywhere. He has to find out. He nuzzles against your neck and his tongue darts across your skin. His large hands eagerly knead at your hips. 

“S-suguru,” you whimper. 

He pulls back, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed hesitant at first.” 

He pulls you closer by your hips, “I know, I’m sorry. I want to continue if you do.” 

You smile, “Yeah, I want to.” 

“Alright,” he blushes. He stands up and offers his hand for you. Then, he leads you to his room. He keeps it quite neat and minimalistic in his space. 

He closes the door before grabbing you again. His hands move over the soft material of your dress before carefully lifting it over your head. He takes a moment to admire your figure standing before him draped only on your bra and panties. His admiration is disrupted by the feeling of you tugging at his shirt. He smirks and lifts his arms. You have to stand on your tiptoes to lift the shirt off completely, then it joins the pile with your dress. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers before seizing your lips again. His hands move over your body in a greedy exploration before finding your bra clasp. He opens it with ease and his fingers are deft to guide the straps down your arms. 

“Am I going too fast?” he asks. 

“No, it’s good,” you kiss him sweetly. 

He carefully lays you down on the bed, his broad form hovering over you. You notice the scars littering his body, but he doesn’t give you much of a chance to look further before he lowers himself to your chest. His breath is warm on your skin, heated up further by the open-mouthed kisses left along the swell of your breasts. He feels your hands in his hair, tugging him towards your sensitive spots. He relinquishes his curious exploration in favor of learning which spots drive you crazy. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers against your stomach. His teeth scrape against your abdomen before he spreads your thighs. Your panties cling to your wet folds. He pulls the flimsy garment off before kissing down your thigh. 

“You don’t have to,” you whisper, suddenly seeming so shy. 

“What?” he looks up at you. He furrows his brows when he realizes what you mean. “I want to, baby.” 

Want is a rather weak word. He needs to taste you. 

“Are you sure?” 

He kisses your mound, “I’m certain.” 

You nod shyly, and he is all too eager to bury his face between your thighs. His tongue laps at your slit, hungry grunts falling from him as he relishes the taste of your arousal. He doesn’t taste curses. He doesn’t taste anything but the musky sweetness of your cunt on his tongue. 

The pleasure rolls through your core in intense waves with every smooth lick and suckle. You tremble in an attempt to keep still as he teases out more and more sensations. His strong hands keep your thighs spread wide so he can fully focus his attention on the feast laid out before him. He stays buried between your thighs until he notices the tell-tale signs of you being close. Your tense thighs and needy whines tell him all he needs to know. He pulls away from your cunt just as you’re about to cum. 

“Fuck, look what you’ve done,” he groans as he sits up on his knees and cups the prominent bulge at the front of his pants. “You still wanna keep going?” 

“Yes,” you whine. 

He pushes his pants down past his ass before slotting himself between your legs. He reaches down to stroke his cock a few times, then drags the tip between your soaked folds. The head prods at your hole, and he begins pushing in carefully. He watches your face contort with pleasure as he fills you. Once he’s bottomed out, he brings himself lower so your chests are pressed together. You can almost feel his heart racing against your chest. 

“You feel so good,” he kisses your forehead and nose. 

His hips begin to rock at a slow, sensual pace. Your nails dig into his back as you lock your legs around his waist, moaning at the pace he’s keeping. Your kisses are sloppy, more tongue than lips. Your moans pass between your mouths like a breath. 

The lingering feeling of your earlier orgasm he’d deprived you off makes the perfect foundation for what’s to come. Already you can feel it, twisting in your core. His cock hits the sweet spot inside you with precision. 

“Suguru, I’m close,” you moan. 

“Good, baby. Cum on my cock.” 

With a few more deep thrusts, you’re crying out his name in unbridled pleasure. The way your walls clench around him as you cum is nearly enough to drive him over the edge. 

“Can I cum inside you, baby?” he asks, his voice husky. Without much thought you nod eagerly. 

He braces one hand against the pillow by your head, squeezing the material as he starts chasing his high. His pace is sloppier and quicker now. He bites his lip so hard it almost draws blood, then at the moment of climax his mouth parts in a silent cry. His cock throbs as he releases inside you. 

As you both come down, he nuzzles against you. You’re both panting to catch your breath. You caress his back until he lifts himself up again. He carefully pulls out of you and lays next to you on the bed. 

“Stay with me,” he murmurs as he gathers you up in his arms. 

[erosiism]

GENSHIN MEN AND…

prompt: HOW THEY WOULD REACT IF YOU SACRIFICED YOUR LIFE FOR THEM | part two

character(s): childe, ayato [part one is finished, it features diluc & zhongli]

warnings(s): angst ofc—mention of blood, my first post on tumblr so my writing style may be a little icky, inaccuracies since I haven’t looked up genshin lore for a hot minute 

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read

AYATO

note(s); you are his fiance

Your marriage alliance is purely for business. Ayato knows that. He’s the head of the Yashiro Commission's Kamisato plan—he’s busy, for god’s sake. He doesn’t want to waste time or beat around the bush: if he is to marry you, the only son of the L/n clan, he will, but he doesn’t want you to expect any pleasantries. He will be cordial and polite enough, but he doesn’t have the time to butter you up. He will mind his own business, and so will you. He is not one for earthly desires. He cares far more for his clan’s prestige and for surviving to play the role of a husband.

“[Name], right?” He smiles at you. You smile back, your posture stiff and your smile fixed painfully on your face. “I’m sure we know what this marriage is intended for.”

Your skin feels tight. “I do.”

“You can go to Thoma should you have any inquiries. My sister will help you too should you need anything.”

You tilt your head. Your tone is straightforward and blunt. “And you?”

“I’ll be busy,” Ayato says politely.

“I understand.”

There: your first conversation had been completely unremarkable and bland. But Ayato had appreciated that you had been straight to the point. You had been completely no nonsense, and Ayato at least, did not feel annoyed. He has too many things on his plate to deal with trivial things like romance: too many rival clans are trying to assassinate him, too many people are trying to destroy his clan. He does his own things, you do too. Occasionally you two meet—it’s just one house, after all, and you two make polite conversation. You make for a rather amusing partner at times, you make him laugh, and with you he feels relaxed.

Sometimes he plays the tricks he plays on Thoma; but it’s almost impressive to see you stomach the strange food he feeds you. You tease him with a rather sweet straight face; in calm tones, you poke fun at him. Ayato forgets that the two of you are married, at times, but there are also the rare times that he’s almost pleased.

Months pass after your encounter. The two of you have lapsed into a routine. Ayato finds that there are times he almost looks forward to the occasions the two of you meet. He starts planning brief instances where he can see you: he starts to finish his work a little quicker so he’ll be able to see you. He lessens your workload so you won’t be tired. He buys trinkets that remind him of you. He starts to reach out to you a lot more. 

He notices you smiling more. You seem pleased, joyful, even at this. 

(“Gosh,” Ayaka tells him once, smiling sweetly. “You two do act like a married couple.”

Married. Ah. Right. Ayato has nearly forgotten.)

One day, as he’s out, he spots a gem the color of your eyes. He spends a decidedly long time looking at it, choosing it carefully, before he tucks it in your pocket. You deserve to have nice things, he thinks to himself. And so he will give it to you. His husband.

But when he returns home, he doesn’t expect to see the sight of you barely breathing, your breaths shuddering, your body limp. Thoma and Ayaka are not in sight. They must have gone out today. And you…

The gem clinks in his pocket as he runs towards you.

“[Name],” Ayato calls for your messily, the words falling over each other as they spill from his mouth, “[Name]!”

The last word is a yell. “[Name], please…who did this to you?”

“Those bastards,” you say weakly, “from…that…clan…they wanted information. They…”

“And you—”

“I didn’t give it to them, if that’s what you were worried about,” you manage to choke out. “I know how important it was to you.”

The information. Right. The scrolls. Right. Important? Perhaps months ago Ayato would have agreed. After all, that was months, almost a year of hard work. But looking at you now, Ayato begged to differ. Here you were, bleeding out, dying, because of him.

You sacrificed yourself. You sacrificed yourself for him.

“I know what this marriage was intended for,” you repeat the words he had told you when you two had first met. His husband. His beloved husband. His darling. “I’ve honored it.”

“No,” Ayato cradles you, feeling as if life escapes your body. Your body is turning cold. “No!”

It’s too late. The gem rolls out of his pocket, and Ayato despairs.

The gem is no longer the color of your beautiful eyes.

It’s bathed in red.

CHILDE

note(s); you are from fatui

There are countless deaths when it comes to Fatui. It has become disturbingly normal. And you are Tartaglia’s subordinate. The eleventh harbinger’s associate. You two hit it off, immediately: you are of similar age, and you have a little brother the same age as Teucer. Or: you had a little brother. He was torn away from you because of your poor living conditions in Snezhnaya. And that was what spurred you on to make a last ditch attempt to join the Fatui to find a purpose somehow; to riddle yourself with work so you cannot think of your brother’s death.

Childe has been nothing but sweet to you so far. You have been seeing two sides of him: the tender, gentle side to him when he talks about Teucer, when he speaks of the little letters he gets from his siblings, or on the occasions he speaks to you. And the other is more wild; more bloodthirsty—and in those instances, you can see the marks that the Abyss has left on him. That uncontrollable urge to ravage everything in sight; to leave it broken and damaged.

Today is no different. The two of you tread the snow as you walk up the mountains. Childe is laughing as he is telling you stories. You listen to him like you always do. Neither of you spot the Ruin Guards. Not even three—by some wretched curse, there are five of them, lumbering behind. And by the time their shadows loom before the two of you, it’s too late.

Childe flinches; you reach out to him in desperation before you see him shift into his Foul Legacy form. 

What rotten luck, you curse to yourself, adrenaline starting to fill in. What kind of stupid thing have we walked into?

You have seen him use it a few times—once against three Ruin Guards. He defeated them without much difficulty—but you had seen the after effects. You had seen the way he had panted for his breath; the way his face had turned pale, the way he had quivered and had grasped onto you and the Traveler for help.

He does the same. There’s still two remaining, and Childe’s still standing. But you see him clutching his head. You think of Teucer. Childe has a family to return to. You have no one. In a way, this action would be the most logical. The most understanding. It will be a sacrifice for Childe and his brother. You know the pain of losing a brother—you don’t want Teucer to go through that again.

“I think I can handle them,” you tell Childe quietly. You don’t have a vision, but you have a delusion you have yet to use. “Go. Rest.”

“[Name],” Childe warns.

“Teucer.” Is the only word you say.

Childe’s eyes widen. He bites his lip. He sees your point—you knew he would. 

“I’ll come back alive,” you promise.

“[Name],” he tries again.

“See you later.” It’s a clear dismissal. 

You push him a little to the side; Childe stumbles away. Then you quickly unleash the delusion you have kept and unsheathe your sword. Childe was the one that taught you how to use a sword—and now you recall his advice as you step to the side. The delusion has potentially lethal consequences. You know that. It’s your first time using it. You know that too. The energy thrums in your fingertips as you start to battle—the crimson lashes out between your teeth and blows start to rain on you.

You think of your brother. It was your lack of strength that caused his death—you can still remember his shouts, his screams—and even now they haunt you. You don’t waver, but your stance and your attacks become sloppy. Useless, you think harshly, useless! I can’t even—

The delusion unleashes more power in your desperation. The ruin guards start to sway and fall. You continue, but now blood is bursting from every crevice, every corner: wounds open, flesh tears away, and your mouth overflows with blood. The ventricles of your heart seem to be pulsing dangerously—the delusion is ripping away your mortality in return for its power. You continue. Your eyes start to tear—

Thuds tell you of the defeat of the guards. You slump in relief. Your feet carried you to Childe, who has collapsed on the ground.

“Childe,” you call weakly. “I…”

The words don’t leave your throat. Your broken stance is not the one that jolts him from his consciousness, but it is the splutter of blood and the horrid gargle your throat make when you start to retch out blood that horrifies him.

“[Name]!” He yells, “[Name]!”

“Let me close my eyes,” you plead. “I’m so tired.”

“No. Let’s—let’s get you to—”

“Please,” you start to beg him. “I think…”

Childe knows better. You will die if you close your eyes. He has to get you help—he can’t let you die. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

He has loved you. He loves you. He adores you.

“You promised me,” Childe starts to whisper brokenly, “you promised me, [Name]. You said you'd come back alive. You said you will…”

The promise is shattered when your head slips from his grasp.

Your first and last promise to him, broken.

comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated

[marxo-fm]

Mild Sweet

✯ Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your dad hosts a welcoming party for a good friend who’s coming back from Seattle after quite some time. BBQs, drinks, dancing, and a good ol' time. Until you realize the friend, is your secret crush. A silly little crush that turned into something more, but you've kept it a secret most of the time. What happens when you two rekindle and talk, and that secret is unable to be kept in for any longer?

Warnings: MDNI+18, mentions of adult themes and language, mentions of alcohol and swearing, smut with slight plot, afab!reader age gap (reader-late twenties, Joel-early forties), praising, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, talking you through it, oral!f-receiving, fear of getting caught, no descriptions of race/ethnicity, skin color, hair type/length, or body type.

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Long awaited, I apologize, but I hope that with this fic--you can forgive me. Life has been hectic, but I am on break finally, so I chose to use this time to feed my deprived peeps. I hope you all enjoy reading this, just as much as I enjoyed writing this. Thank you!

Update: This has been sitting in my drafts since the dawn of time, I’m not on break anymore, I GRADUATED, I have all the free time now. Just wanted to clarify if I go missing again, it’s going to be because of college. That’s all, thank you, you may continue. -if this is bad, I’m sorry, this was from months ago. Go easy on meeeee.

—

“Well yeah hun, I sure am hosting a barbecue party. I don’t care if it’s damn near hot enough for my skin to fall off, I am going to host it.” Protested your dad as he chugged his second can of beer. He won’t tell you further details, which confused you since you had every right to know. Not only because you’re his daughter, but because you’d like to know who the hell this mystery friend is that your father keeps talking about. Says it’s to be kept a surprise until he finally makes it to San Antonio. Which, by the way, you don’t even know when that’ll be either.

“Is this barbecue party even going to happen? Or are you just going to pass it off to someone else in this neighborhood?” The two of you stood eye to eye in the agonizing heat of Texas. Hell, you’re used to it, but it sure did make you frustrated. The humidity didn’t help either. Flies were everywhere and yellow grass that used to be bright green surrounded your home, it used to be a shade of green similar to a green highlighter—in spring that was. You look at the grass and back at your dad, who left the conversation and went to his truck. He opens the passenger seat and shouts, “Get your butt in here, we gotta get the supplies ready for this damn barbecue!” His country accent cuts through sharper than any knife.

It’s hard to take him seriously sometimes.

--

“Remember when you told me you didn’t need my help?” 

Your dad looks at you with an eyebrow raised and back at the road.

“Kid, don’t make me rethink my choice now. I only said that because sometimes your ol’ man likes to do things his way. Cause’ you see, back in my day-” 

“Back in my day, my daddy made me do all the hard work. Dad, I’ve heard this story many times growing up, I know.” You mocked, chuckling a little under your breath carefully trying to not chuckle too hard. 

“Well, in that case, you’re right. But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Your eyes widen in surprise, carefully leaning over the console of your dad’s truck. What could this darn secret be?

“Remember my good ol’ friend, Joel Miller? That good-looking pal who’s just a few years younger than me? Well, he went over to Seattle with his kid, Sarah. Ya know, family bonding time and whatnot.” Your dad lost his focus looking at his rearview mirror and blindspots before turning left, then continued, “Fortunately, he’s coming back to San Antonio and I’m throwing this barbecue party to welcome him. I’m sure he’d love it, his kid too, and well of course–all of our friends included.”

Joel Miller. A name that went through your head a million times. Over and over.

A man you have had a long and forbidden crush for, a feeling that grew intense over time.

The feelings died down for a bit when he was gone for God knows how long, but they came back. And you don’t know how to feel about it.

--

“Okay, everything’s ready y’all just gotta set em’ up now. We don’t have much time.” Instructed your dad to his fellow friends and a few relatives. Other relatives were far too busy for the welcoming party. Out of all the other days your dad chooses to throw this party, it just has to be on a Sunday.

A few of your dad’s friends were preparing the meats, Joel was going to be here any minute now, and you grew hot. Unsure whether it was this agonizing heat of San Antonio, or if it was just you. Something about the way he walks, talks, looks, is what gets your gears moving. His gray hair, his voice, his body. Hell, at this point you’d rather have Joel for dinner rather than that damn barbecue. But you swore to keep yourself sane and still, especially in front of your dad. He’d surely laugh if he found out about your crush towards Joel, then switch to being confused…and finally, angry.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Your dad walks up to you, handing you an apron. What in God’s earth is he making me do? Surely he wouldn’t make you prepare meats and have you cook them, after all, you just want to impress and look good for Joel. You bought an entirely new dress just for this damn welcoming party, hoping to somewhat catch his attention.

A short and light purple dress that reveals just enough.

God, this is pathetic. Dressing all pretty for man who wouldn’t even bat an eye at his good friend’s daughter. Or maybe, if you’re lucky enough, he might. You still have to greet him, so yes, you’re going to talk to him. It’s to respect him and it’s common sense since well—it is a welcoming party…

“He should be here any minute now hun, just put this apron on and go help out.”

“Do I have to? I mean, your nieces and nephews are over there sitting doing nothing. I’d rather prepare the table.”

Your dad looks over at your cousins then back at the table you insisted on doing. The table didn’t have any plates on it, nor did it have decorations.

“You’re right, the table does need some…stuff on it.”

You walk on over to prepare the table, when you a truck pull up from behind the fences of your backyard. That’s when you feel yourself sweating gallons and breathing heavier. You thought maybe it was just a neighbor, but you were proven wrong.

Joel Miller is here.

—

“Dad, Joel is here. I think.” Your dad looks at your in a state of shock, only because everything hasn’t been prepared yet and well, everyone is supposed to be hiding to surprise Joel.

“Y’all needa hide, Joel’s here. Drop everything and hide somewhere before he sees us!” Everyone—including yourself—go in hiding. You choose to hide under the table you were planning on finishing work at. Y’know, decorating it and all. But you were too late. You see everyone smiling or giggling in excitement, ready to surprise Joel. He hasn’t been in Texas for God knows how long; would you blame him?

You hear footsteps inching closer and closer, and that's when you hear him say, "anyone here?"

You and everyone else jump out from your hiding places, the word surprise didn't leave your mouth, your jaw just hung open instead.

He changed, looks more grunt than usual, but also happy because of the welcoming party. It irked you, but you ignored it.

The black shirt he wore fit nicely on his body, he must've worked out or something, his shoulders are broad. It gave you something to think about, and your face reddens. He finally looks at you, Joel was more focused on your face rather than your dress. He did acknowledge it, though, but...you looked different. Not in a bad way, just different. It must be the makeup style you chose to wear, or the purple dress that radiated your face. Either way, his look had you holding on to the table harder.

"Been so long pal, c'mere." People shared awkward glances, but it went away when Joel hugged your dad. They shared it for quite some time, but it was needed.

"m' I really this important that you threw a welcoming party?"

Your dad smiles, "sure is Joel, been so long ain't nothing for me to do other than drink my beers alone without ya. But you're finally here." He pats your dad on the shoulder with a smile, continuing their small talk before Joel greets the others.

--

You wondered why Joel hasn't greeted you yet, you felt as if you maybe did something wrong. Surely not, you scoff, as if he was here for anything like that. You don't know, but your head kept pestering you about it. His daughter is at a table full of friends and cousins, "at least his daughter greeted me." You innocently whispered under your breath, unaware that Joel heard you just across the table. You sat by your dad, so Joel heard it, but was already making plans to greet you some other way. You just had no clue yet.

You catch him eyeing your dress, and he notices you looking. You quickly shy away, but he chuckles and goes back to eating his food. Lust and heat pumped through your veins, and your heart was beating a hundred beats per minute. At any rate now, you're sure you'd have a heart attack.

He wasn't even doing anything. All he did was look at your outfit.

You did a good job at catching his attention, but the tension was far too much. The sexual tension. Did he feel the same? Or was he innocently looking? You look up to see him manspreading from the fulfilling dinner he just ate, his shirt raised a little. You could see his tanned skin just above his belt. Unsure of what the hell that made you feel just now. Joel still craved something deep down, dessert, more specifically.

"Hey dad, may you excuse me for a minute. I need to use the restroom." He nodded and you hurriedly scurried off inside your house. Closing the door behind you shut, and you quickly catch your breath.

Everything intensified, everything from top to bottom. The heat between your legs, you're sure your underwear is soaked.

He didn't even do anything.

--

You locked yourself in the restroom. sort of trying to recollect yourself after your encounter. But what the hell were you even thinking? Where was the respect? No hugs, not a thank you, or even a hello?!

You were interrupted suddenly by a knock on the door. "It's occupied!" You respond.

Another knock.

"I thought I told you that this restroom is occupied?" You grew frustrated. One more knock and it sent you over the edge.

"What the hell do you not understand?"

"It's Joel, open the damn door." He ordered. His voice was huskier, angry and needy almost. Your heart pounds and you began to question your dignity.

"C'mon sweet cakes, open the door." You had no choice, knowing Joel, he'd continue with his knocks and the continuous, "let me in."

"Okay," you sighed, "I'll let you in, just gimme a moment."

There wasn't a word behind the door, just silence.

Deep breaths in and deep breaths out, you finally walk to the door and open it.

Joel greeted you with the hungriest kiss known to mankind. Like a predator to his prey. He shut the door behind him and managed to find a way to lock it. His hand immediately grabs the back of your neck, gripping your hair tight to get a better hold of you. All you felt was his mouth on yours, all thoughts gone. Out the window.

You struggled to breathe but your hands find their way on his broad shoulders, you held his shoulder tight to keep you from falling. Knees are weak and dignities are gone.

His tongue goes in deeper, and you do the same with yours, the sound of kisses filled the silence in the bathroom, but you didn't care. It was like a dream come true, kissing the man you've always felt something for. But has he felt the same? You know, following you to the bathroom to kiss you had to signify that.

You pull away, a string of saliva leaving both of your lips. His hand slides down your back, holding your waist and pulling you closer to his body.

You're both panting, trying to regain your breaths.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

"But you want to, don'tcha sweetheart?" He pulls you impossibly closer, "I saw the way you eye fucked me over there, doing that while wearing this little dress won't do you no good doll."

"Why won't it do me no good? And I wasn't eye fucking you, I was upset at the fact that you didn't even acknowledge me over there."

"Can't tell ya that." He smirks.

You grew frustrated, Joel loves the way your brows furrow. Thinkin' bout how your brows would be furrowing the way his cock rammed deep inside of you. "Y'know, I didn't have my dessert yet. You willin' to give me that?"

Your eyes widen, the knots in the pit of your belly only grew tighter. You knew very well what he implied, and you had no problem giving Joel this. Because as soon as those words left his mouth, he picked you up and sat you down on the cold counter roughly. Causing you to wince in response from the cold contact of the bathroom counter.

"Joel.." you breathed, unsure of what you're seeing is just a dream of if it's fucking real.

"Want me to make you feel good baby? I'll make you feel so good, I'll show you what it's like to be loved by me."

You pant in need and want, "y..yes, I want you to make me feel good, Joel."

"I'll make you feel good, baby." It took you a second to process, only because you can't believe this is about to happen. You're shy, it took a moment before Joel did it for you. His warm rough hands touching your knees and spreading your legs made you moan in response.

"Look at ya, already moaning and I haven't even done nothing."

He pulls you closer, your legs beside his waist as he goes back in for a kiss. This time, it's gentler, softer. It was all sudden, and new. Just a few minutes ago, he was eating your face.

He groans in your mouth, you taste too good to him. He can only imagine how sweet his dessert would taste. This was only a sample, a fraction of what he's about to go in for.

He gives your jawbone peppered kisses, all the way down to your neck, then your collarbone. You hold on to the counters as he made his way down, pushing your purple dress you wore specifically for him.

Then he gets down on his knees, sliding your soaked panties off. You watch as it makes way down to your ankles. "Oh doll, you're so wet for me. That's my girl."

Hearing him call you his girl sure put you in a haze, it all felt unreal.

His head is now between your thighs, and the sight alone makes you close to finishing already.

His tongue brushes against your aching clit and your head tilts back, your thoughts are literally everywhere. Puzzle pieces waiting to be solved, yet you're focused on Joel's head in between your legs.

Your legs spread further once Joel drags his tongue along your throbbing, cunt. Groaning as he's savoring the taste of his dessert. You squirm and move under his touch when his tongue rasps over your sensitive flesh. "Stay still sweetheart." He warned as his arms wrap around your legs to keep you spread open for him.

"Ah, Joel..." You pant, unable to keep it down. "Keep your voice down, unless you want everyone to hear how good I make my sweet girl feel." His dirty words and praises made it so hard to.

He flicks the tip of his tongue back and forth, giving everything he has. You bite down on your lips, "attagirl, doin' so good for me. 'S right."

You almost want to cry out as he devours you, your legs keep him in place as you feel the heat in the pit of you belly grow intensely hotter. You're so wet for him, and you can't help but roll your hips to get more. Watching his head buried into you was so illicit, so real.

"Joel, I'm so close-" you struggled to whisper or even say a full sentence. He continues, but this time, his tongue finds its way inside of your leaking cunt. You moan, he looks up at you. Eye contact was way too intense.

"Taste so fuckin' good for me, ya like watching me eat your sweet pussy hm?" His jaw works more, and you can't help but fight the urge to scream his name. Your chest rose with each stroke of his tongue on your cunt.

Suddenly, his hands leave the tight hold he had on you and hastily unbuckling his belt. He pushes down his jeans, along with his boxers, and the sight before you were everything and more.

You watched his cock spring up, and your eyes widen in shock. He's big, and you didn't know how the hell he is going to fit. Your cunt ached for him, growing more needy. You grab his hair and pull him closer, he hums with affirmation. Joel goes back down, this time to finish what he started.

His familiar touch sent waves of shock throughout your body. Mind clouded and head pounding, you grind into his mouth, chasing your orgasm like an owner chasing his dog. And finally, you explode into fragments of pleasure. Stars and colors were all you could see and hear.

Joel then licks his lips, looking down at your cunt before he inserts his cock slowly. Torture almost. Your eyes roll back and Joel groans at the sight in front of him, this beautiful and glowing woman in front of him. He never thought, at his age, he’d get to see this again. But he hopes he sees it forever.

He thrusts slow and then fast as he listened to your melodic moans and whimpers. It only made him want to go faster and faster, and the coil in the pit of your belly finally snaps and you shake. His thrusts become sloppy, “fuck, you’re so good to me, hun.” He praised as he too followed after you.

“Want me to come in this pretty pussy? Hm? Talk to me.” He ordered. You nod, unable to form words. “Talk.” He demands, “yes, Joel, fuck yes.” And then he lets go of himself, his head placed on your shoulder and he groans as he comes inside of you. His cock twitching, the two of you are still regaining your breaths, you’re still trying to collect yourself.

“We gotta get cleaned up, but we’ll start with you first, how bout’ that?” He smirked and you nod. If this happened to be just a dream, then it was the best fucking dream ever.

[b0r3dtod3ath]

hi!!! could i pls req alex x reader,, where the reader is a model and dating alex but the other drivers (besides george&logan) don’t know. so when she comes to a race and is in the williams garage,, all the drivers are hitting on her and trying to get w her but when they try to get alex’s help, he tells them she’s his gf but they don’t believe him until someone walks in on them or smth idk take whatever creative liberties u want!! thankuu <3

warnings: fem!reader; mention of a razor (shaving); 

a/n: omg i love this request! i had so much fun writing it. i also included a kinda vice-versa situation where the reader brings alex to work. i hope you like it!

word count: 1.5k

You and Alex have been dating for a few months now and with your hectic schedules you made most out of your time together. That often involves spending time even if one person is busy and the other is free. One time he accompanied you during a fashion week. Not only to spend time with you but also to truly understand your work and the world you live in.

One thing Alex hadn’t expected was that the week was packed with an enormous amount of events. He didn’t mind it as you took him everywhere and he got to see you backstage as well as on the runway. He loved to see you interact with your friends and co-workers and he was more than happy each time you introduced him as your boyfriend. 

As he exited the bathroom of your hotel room his eyes witnessed a heart squeezing scene. You were sprawled out on the bed with your eyes closed, tired after a particularly harsh day of fittings, rehearsals and shows. You weren’t sleeping, he could see it. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you. You nodded weakly, "Just tired. I need to shave my legs for tomorrow. Give me a moment and I will stand up”. Alex hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath "I'll do it”. You quickly opened your eyes, looking at him with a surprised face "You don't have to, just give me a moment”. “I want to,” he said and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you at the edge of the bathtub. He grabbed your razor and a can of shaving cream. You admired him as he focused-working slowly, with his hands steady, ensuring he didn't miss a spot or hurt you. As he rinsed the razor under the warm water, Alex felt an appreciation for the small, often overlooked tasks that were a part of your job. "You're amazing, you know that?" he said, looking up at you with eyes full of affection. You smiled back with gratitude. "Thank you, Alex. It means a lot”.

“Okay, we are going to the Versace show. When we get there, I immediately need to go to the restroom and wash all of this hair gel off.” you said looking at your calendar. You two sat at the backseat of a cab. “You know, If they put something like this on you they should also bother to take it off.” he said and gently knocked on the hard shell on your head, causing you to giggle. 

The small restroom was crowded, but you managed to find a spot by the sink. You rolled up your sleeves and turned on the faucet, testing the temperature with your fingers. Just as you bent over to wet your hair, Alex appeared next to you after dropping off your things and letting the coordinator know where you were. He helped you get the shampoo in more hard to reach spots, his fingers massaging your scalp with a tenderness that made your heart swell. Rinsing out the shampoo, Alex made sure every bit of gel was gone. He then squeezed out the excess water and grabbed a towel he had found earlier. “Thank you” you kissed him on the cheek, grabbed his hand and headed towards the makeup station. You loved how he was trying to make a conversation with people that worked around you. He was asking various questions and cracking jokes with the makeup artists. “You have to stop. You're making her giggle, her concealer will crease” one of them said laughing at something he had said. 

After the show, just as you were about to leave, your friend Airdropped you a few pictures. You and Alex washing your hair in the sink, Alex making everyone around laugh and him admiring you as you walked down the runway. The message had a little note as well: Don’t worry. I won’t send it anywhere. I thought you two would like these : )

On the plane on your way back, you two were exhausted but happy. Alex looked at you, his heart swelling with pride. “You know,” he began, his serious tone capturing your attention. “I have always respected what you do, but seeing it up close, every detail, the good and the bad… I have a whole new level of admiration for you”. You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body in contrast to the cold, dry air. “It’s not always glamorous,” you admitted “But having you here, helping me through it... it means everything”. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you even closer. “You’re incredible, Love. And I’ll always be here to support you”. You let out a satisfied hum. “So.. When will you take me to your work?” you asked, smiling from ear to ear. 

The sun shone brightly over the Silverstone Circuit, where the roar of engines and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. You arrived early, your presence immediately turning heads. You had a simple but nice outfit styled with a pair of sunglasses and some jewelry. Entering through the gates you see a text from Alex saying that he is busy with a meeting for a few minutes longer than expected and asking if you are fine walking by yourself. Don’t worry, I’m gonna manage. If I need help I will text you, you replied and headed towards him. You took your time walking there, you looked around a bit and observed the preparations for the race. As you made your way to the Williams garage, the other drivers couldn't help but notice you. Lando and Carlos were the first to approach you, their curiosity piqued. “Hey there, I’m Lando” they appeared out of nowhere, causing you to chuckle. “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N” you introduced yourself. "Are you new here?" Carlos asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Sort of," you replied with a playful smile. "I'm here to support a friend”. "Well, if you need a tour or anything, feel free to ask us," Lando offered, his smile genuine. As the two of them tried to impress you with their charm, you couldn't help but to find it incredibly funny. They had no idea you were already taken. You excused herself politely, heading towards the Williams garage where Alex was busy with pre-race preparations. 

As you were entering you noticed two familiar faces. “Hi! Great to finally see you here!” said George and offered you a greeting hug. “Hi, boys. Haven’t seen you in a while” you say as you pull Logan into a hug "Alex will be thrilled you're here” he says. As the three of you chatted, the two other drivers continued to hover around the garage, trying to piece together who were you here for. 

Finally, you made eye contact with Alex from across the garage. A wide grin spread across his face as he made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. "Hey, you," he murmured. "Hey, yourself," you replied, smiling up at him. Lando and Carlos exchanged glances, feeling even more confused than before and walked up to you. "Ah, Alex! We were just looking for your lovely friend” Carlos said, grinning. Alex chuckled, slipping a hand around your waist in an almost possessive way “Well, I hope you didn’t scare my girlfriend because you two look suspicious”. The drivers looked stunned, their eyes widening. “Wait, girlfriend?” Carlos glanced between you and Alex as if he couldn’t believe it. Lando laughed “Nice one, mate. You almost had us there”. Alex shrugged, unbothered "Believe what you want," he said before heading off to continue his preparations.

The drivers resumed their attempts to impress you, completely ignoring Alex's statement. You found the whole situation hilarious, but you knew it was only a matter of time before they realized the truth.

Later, as the beginning of the race was getting closer and closer, you slipped away to find Alex. You wanted to wish him good luck. "Hey, beautiful," he said, pulling you into an affectionate kiss that you returned with even more passion as your hands found his hair and gently tugged on it. His hands made their way down your back. Just as you were about to break the kiss, Carlos walked in, catching the sight of the intimate moment. He froze, his eyes widening in surprise, and he quickly turned on his heel, desperate to find Lando. 

"Guys, you won't believe this," Carlos said, fully convinced "Alex wasn’t joking. She is really his girlfriend! They're definitely together.". “No shit, genius,” George whispered. Lando barely believed it but with a dose of details from his friends he erupted in laughter, finally accepting the truth. 

After the race Lando made his way to Alex. “Congrats”. He thought he was referring to him finishing in points. “She’s way out of your league, I don’t know how you managed to convince her”. The Brit patted his friend’s back and walked away. “Hey! What was that supposed to mean?”. 

June 17, 2024

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (VII)

alexia putellas x sister

part I, II, III, IV, V, VI

this is the final part! it is 12:30am, I got home at 11 and read over it as I ate dinner so hopefully there aren't too many mistakes!

I hope you like the final part and sorry it has taken me so long!

~~~~~~

April 12, 2013.

"Alexia!" 

My sister was standing outside by the school gates, training uniform on, her skin bronzed from the Barcelona sun. I hadn't been expecting her to pick me up from school that day, but it was always a nice surprise when she did because it meant going to her training instead of Mami's work. 

"Hola, pequena!" She lifted me easily into her arms, spinning me in almost a full circle and carrying me out towards her car, avoiding the sympathetic glances she received from the parents around. 

I think she was sick of them, our father died almost a year ago and she had been picking me up at least once a week since. Surely they should be aware of it by now?

I was placed in my booster seat in the back of the car, Alexia stepping into the front seat and smiling at me through the rear view mirror. 

"Everyone is so excited to see you, pequena! I told them all this morning and they've been waiting all day."

I nodded from the back seat before diving into chatter about my day, what I had done at school. Alexia smiled and nodded from the front seat, only adding to the conversation when I left small gaps between my endless streams of chatter. 

The chatter continued as we arrived and I skipped ahead of her before she grabbed my hand with a stern glance, warning me to be safe on the roads. 

But Alexia was forgotten as I ran into the changing rooms, straight into Leila's open arms. 

"Hola, mi amor." She planted a soft kiss on the top of my head, trying to control my energetic and wriggly body. 

"Hola, Leila!"  

My long spiel started again, this time spoken directly to Leila as the others sat and watched in amusement, Alexia rolling her eyes at my loud and persisting voice. 

But my voice was silenced as soon as they went back out onto the training pitch, sat on the rug that Alexia had laid out with some colouring books and toys. Books and toys that lay abandoned as I stared at the footballers in front of me. 

They were incredible, I always thought. They moved so quickly up and down the pitch, shooting and passing the ball with pinpoint precision that I could only imagine to possess as a 6 year old who had only started to learn to play a few months ago. 

I idolised my sisters teammates almost as much as I idolised Alexia and I constantly tried to pick up on things they did, trying to be like them, trying to improve my own abilities. 

Alba came down and sat next to me, but was unable to pull me out of my trance, instead pulling out her schoolbook and doing some homework as we waited for Alexia to finish up.

But Alexia finishing up meant I was about to start, so I ignored Alba's groan as I jumped up from the floor as the whistle blew, running over to grab a stray ball and attempting to dribble it around the patch of grass near Alba. 

It wasn't long before Marta jogged over, guiding me to the small training pitch and trying to intercept the ball and getting me to try dispossess her as she dribbled along. 

It was all fun and games until we started shooting, and I found myself incapable of getting a single goal in the back of the net. I was progressively getting more and more upset, with Marta's words of encouragement doing little to cheer me up as I remained unsuccessful in scoring a single goal. 

I was forced to give up when Alexia rushed onto the field, apparently recognising my distress and picking me up, holding me close. 

I immediately calmed down. Alexia's arms were magical in that way, they never failed to calm me down, to cheer me up. To make me warm, to make me comfortable. 

My cries into Alexia's chest were light and she ran her hand up and down my back softly, smiling at Marta as the older Spaniard planted a kiss on my head and said goodbye. 

"Pequena, why are you so upset?"

"Because, Ale, I can't even score a goal! You and your team can score a goal from ages and ages away but I can't even score one from right in front of it!"

Alexia laughs softly and I frown. 

"You are six, Elena, you are so little and you have only been playing for a couple months. We are professionals, we have to be able to do these things because that is our job, just like your job is to learn how to read and write at school, something you are very good at! You will get better as you continue to practice, we have already seen you get so much better. You got the ball off Marta today, you should be proud of yourself like I am proud of you."

"I just want to be like you, Ale. Why can't I be like you?"

I lean my head into Alexia as she adjusts her hold of me and wanders over to where my belongings were left abandoned. 

"You are just like me. When I was your age I was exactly like you are now, only less determined and less talented. You will be better than me one day, pequena, if you keep working so hard. You just need to remember that I will always be proud of you. Every day of my life I wake up and think of how proud I am, how lucky I am that you are my baby sister. I love you pequena."

"Even if I am bad at football?"

"Even if you are bad at football. Which you aren't, by the way. You are incredible."

~~~~~~

November 18, 2017.

It was game day. 

The Catalonia cup final day, and my whole family was sat in the audience to watch as I played in the final for the under 11s. I only turned 9 last week, but was invited to play with this team a few months ago. 

The game was a big deal for me, playing with people so much older, so much taller. I felt the pressure as well, a defender against a team where the top of my head barely reached the base of the necks of the attackers from the other team. 

It was nerve wracking, and I felt everything churning inside me as I walked onto the field and into my position, waiting for the ref to blow his whistle and for the game to commence. 

I didn't want to look up into the stands, hyperaware of everyone watching me, everyone waiting for me to be just like Alexia. To stand out, to be fast, to be precise, to be incredible. 

But Alexia is a midfielder and I am a centre back. I am not like Alexia, but the only one who seems to understand that is Alexia. 

To everyone else, I am a younger version of her, waiting to follow in her footsteps. La Masia, Barcelona B. Barcelona first team. 

It makes me wonder what they will think if I don't have the perfect career like Alexia. 

But I am only 9, still to young to even trial for La Masia, so the under 11s from the local team will have to do. 

The game starts out well, my team scores twice in thirty minutes and we finish the first half up two goals to none. We are happy as we sit on the sidelines with our coach for the 15 minute break, eating slices of orange and joking around. 

I sometimes wonder how different it is at half time for Alexia when she plays in her big games. I don't think they eat oranges. Or joke around. 

The second half does not go nearly as well. It starts off with a goal to us, but the other team quickly gain possession and score easily. It's upsetting, but we are still two goals up. 

When their next goal goes in, we begin to get nervous, skittish. We are still a goal up, but it is not a big enough gap for our liking, especially since they just got two very quickly. 

The scoreline remains at 3-2 until the 81st minute, when an attacker from the other team tears all the way down the pitch and into the box. I am in the right position, it is entirely up to me to stop this goal from going in. 

But I don't. I try to dispossess her, but I'm unsuccessful. She sends the ball right through my legs and into the net for the equalising goal and I bit back my tears as she celebrates with her friends. 

My teammates pat me on the back, telling me it doesn't matter, that we can get another goal in the dying minutes of the game, but I am not focussed on them. 

I am focused on my family sitting in the stands because all I can see is disappointment. 

Except Alexia, who smiles and puts her thumbs up with an encouraging smile. 

But I am a disappointment, because I allowed the other team to equalise. 

Alexia wouldn't have done that. 

My teammates were right, they score again in the second minute of added time, and we celebrate winning the cup with medals and a trophy. But it all feels tainted, because I almost ruined this for the team. 

I disappointed my family because I am a Putellas, we are supposed to be good at football. 

It is only when we return to the dressing room that the first tears slip out, but I wipe them away quickly, frustrated that I couldn't stop them from starting in the first place. 

Surprisingly, Alexia is the only family member who is outside the dressing room with the other families, and I run directly into her arms, grateful that they are already outstretched. 

Her arms are like home. Like they have done for all my life, they cheer me up, take away some of my sadness. 

"You played so well, pequena! I am so, so proud of you, my little champion!" 

She grabs the piece of metal that hangs from my neck and kisses it. 

"Another gold to add to our collection."

Our collection. 

Like we collect them together. 

I just won an under 11s Catalonia cup, after almost ruining my teams chances. She has a number of Primera division medals, copa de la reina, copa catalunya, golf medals from world championships at the youth age level. A never ending list of MVP awards, honours from spain, from Catalonia and from Mollet del Valles.

And I almost lost my team the Catalonia Cup. 

We are not the same, Alexia and I. I just wish my family would see that, understand that I won't be like Alexia because how could I ever be that good. 

Alexia seems to pick up on my negative mood, lifting me up like I am still 5 years old and holding me close. 

"I know what you are thinking, Elena."

I look at her curiously, a silent question that asks her to continue. 

"You are thinking that their equaliser was entirely your fault, that you almost cost the team your victory, no?"

I nod slowly, and she wipes away the tear that slips from my eye. 

"You never would have done something like that, Ale."

She shakes her head, chuckling slightly. 

"You don't even want to know how many mistakes I've made, how many times I've thought it was all my fault that we lost or almost lost a game. This is your first, but it won't be your last and that is ok. Football is a team sport, Elena, it is never an individuals fault. You wouldn't be mad at a keeper for making a mistake and conceding an important goal and you can't blame the striker for not shooting enough if you lose an important game. Just like you can't blame a defender for conceding. The striker had to get through the midfield first, and they all made mistakes there, and other defenders could have helped you out but they didn't, the keeper wasn't positioned well either but everyone tried their best and accidentally conceded a goal. It's a team, pequena, you win together, lose together, score together and conceded together. And look at how many clearances you made! All those tackles where you recovered the ball, prevented their attack. I am so proud of you today because you were one of the best players on the pitch."

I nod slowly, slumping into her arms. 

"I just wish I could be like you, Ale. Because you are so good and everyone knows it. I am so scared that I will disappoint everyone by not living up to what you've done, but how can I? You are so good."

She sighs, shaking her head. 

"You are my sister, but that doesn't mean we are the same on the pitch. I am a terrible defender, you are a great one. I can score goals easier than you, but it doesn't mean you're not as good, or can't grow to be a professional like I am. And nobody will ever be disappointed in you either! Whether you play for Barcelona for the rest of your life or if you go and play for a terrible team like Arsenal, or even if you quit football altogether and decide to go down another road because that is always an option too! You are smart like I am not, you are artistic like I am not and you can play that piano better than anyone else I've heard. What I'm saying is that just because we both love football, we are not the same. Everyone knows that and nobody will ever be disappointed in you if you don't follow the same career that I have."

"They all looked so disappointed when I conceded though." 

She shook her head again. 

"They shouldn't have, because they were not. But even if everyone else fails you, pequena, which they won't, but if they do, you will always have me cheering you on. I will always be there, your annoying, old, proud sister, every single day I am alive I will be proud of you no matter what you do, because I love you so much, you are everything to me."

She wipes away the tears that slipped from my eyes, planting a kiss on my head. 

"Now everyone is waiting for us, a big celebration dinner because you won today. Everyone is so proud of you, Elena. You are growing into such a talented and strong little girl, the best centre back our family has ever seen."

I smile. 

Maybe I don't need to be just like Alexia to succeed. 

Maybe Elena is alright too. 

~~~~~~

July 4, 2019.

I was invited to trial for La Masia, but I don't know if I want to go. 

I know I am good at football, but I don't even know if I want to play anymore.

Because last week I played the best game I have in a long time, but this morning I singlehandedly lost my team any chances we have of winning the under 15s title. 

It had been rough from the beginning and it was even worse considering we were on the top of the league and we were playing a team from close to the bottom. We couldn't get past their defence, but their attack was easily finding their way through our midfield and defensive line. 

We conceded three and scored none. 

All three of the conceded goals were my fault. 

Every. Single. One. 

Alba told me after the game that it was alright, it didn't matter. 

Mami hugged me and said it would be better next time. 

But it isn't alright, it does matter and who knows if it will be better next time?

Alexia was in France, relaxing after her disappointing end to the world cup, but Mami or Alba must have filled her in on the disaster that was my game before she got home, because as soon as she arrived, she was upstairs and into my room, pulling me into a hug. 

"I don't want you to tell me that it doesn't matter, Alexia, because it does. Please don't tell me that football is a team sport and it isn't just my fault, because it is. It's all my fault and now I've destroyed their chances of winning the league. So please, don't tell me otherwise."

She shook her head, her arms tightening around my body.

"Mami said you don't want to trial for La Masia anymore?" 

I shake my head. I don't think I can even face the trials after the embarrassment that was the other night. 

"That's ok. You don't have to if you don't want to."

I look up at her in confusion. 

"Really?"

"Absolutely not."

She looks right back at me, brushing the hairs out of my face. 

"You're only 11, Elena. You put a lot of pressure on yourself to be great which is not necessary. You are already brilliant. If you don't want to trial, you don't have to. You love school, you love your current team and if you don't want that all to change it doesn't have to. There is always next time if you decide you want to make that jump."

I don't know how she always knows what I am thinking, because I never told her how much I would miss my school and football team if I ended up at La Masia. 

"And what if I don't? What if I don't want to play football any more. Throw away everything I have ever worked for. Wouldn't you be disappointed?"

I don't want her to tell me she wouldn't be, because I don't think that's the truth. 

"Elena, I will never be disappointed in you. Yes, I would be upset, but that is only because it is something so special that we share, something that connects us in a way that I can't be connected to anyone else in this family. But I love you and I would get over it eventually. But today, let's think about now."

I nod, which she uses as an indicator to continue. 

"You're 11 years old, starting as a centre back in the under 15s. You are good, very good and play games so well that nobody would even notice you were so young if it wasn't for your height. You had a bad game the other day, but every other week you have saved that team so many times, so if it wasn't for you, they would have lost that trophy weeks ago. You are smart, have heaps of friends at school and love to play the piano, to read, to hang out with those friends. You love to do things outside of football, it's all equally important. You were scouted to trial for La Masia, but you are 11 and these trials happen every six months so there will be many more chances for you to trial if you decide not to this time but change your mind later. You have a huge family of support right behind you, and you have me, who will always be so proud of you. It's all laid out in front of you, Elena, you just have to make a decision."

A tear slips out of my eye but she is quick to brush it away. 

"I don't want to trial, not yet."

Her arms pull me tighter. 

"I think that's a good decision. I am proud of you, pequena. You need more time to decide what you want to do. Not want Mami wants you to do, not what I want you to do. Not what anybody else wants you to do. I am proud that you have given yourself that time. You are mature, Elena, and so, so smart."

"I love you, Alexia."

"I love you too. Always."

Her arms are so warm around me that I feel myself drifting to sleep in them, waking up when the sun rises the next morning, still with her right arm hanging loosely around my waist. 

I am lucky to have her, I decide. So lucky, because she is like a guiding light who makes everything so much clearer. I don't know what I would do without her. 

~~~~~~

I made my debut for Barcelona yesterday. I came in for Irene in the 88th minute, Jonatan said he wanted me to get some minutes under my legs before I could play for longer. 

The feeling of running onto the pitch in the Barcelona kit, my name and number on my back, alongside the players I have grown up idolising was something I will never forget. 

Something so special, a turning point in my life that could map out my entire career. 

But it was all tainted by what I have lost. What I should have had supporting me. Who I should have had supporting me. 

"I will always be proud of you, Elena."

I think she has forgotten all those times she told me that, but I certainly have not. 

It feels like a long time since I have felt emotions like this. It feels like an even longer time that I have really felt happy. Euphoric, even.

It is harder for a centre back to be subbed in, because they make the foundations of the formation. But we were up by 6 to nothing so it was a safe bet. Any mistakes I made would not lose us points. 

I didn't make mistakes though. I made clearances, I stopped the ball from going past Cata and into the goal. Jonatan was happy, Aitana hugged me as soon as the final whistle blew. 

Mami was there, of course, cheering from the crowd. 

It feels like months since I have seen her. It has been a while since we have spoken properly, although she does not bring that up as she pulls me into a hug, telling me how proud she is of me. 

Alba stands from beside her, staring at me intensely, as if worried I will run away again. 

She knows that if she brings up the last time that happened, I probably will. 

The last month has been rough. I have stayed with Mapi, only leaving the safety of my room in her apartment for training. I did my school, I trained hard and I ate every meal. My days slipped by, I felt nothing. Not happy, not sad. Not anything. 

I think I was confused. Exhausted too. I had exploded, finally, and so I had to suffer from the repercussions. 

Mapi tried her very best to help clean up after that tidal wave finally hit, but her efforts weren't enough to rebuild what had been destroyed. So I ignored her when she came into my room each night, telling me that Alexia was outside, that Alexia wanted to see me. 

I didn't want to see her because I don't think I would have been able to hold it together if she had come crying to me. 

But she is here today and I don't think Mapi will let me avoid her when she inevitably approaches me in the change rooms. 

I walk there slowly, saying goodbye to Mami and Alba quietly and trailing behind Patri and Pina who don't even notice my presence. It is because I have been so quiet, I think, they don't really know what to do with me. They don't know what to say to make me feel better. 

There's not much that will. 

The room erupts into loud cheers as I enter, most of the older players proud of me for finally making my debut. 

It would have been a dream debut, really, if things were different. 

But everything is ruined, everything is overshadowed by so many things. 

Alexia has done all this before me, made her debut, broken into the first squad. I am simply just doing what is expected of me, as a Putellas. 

She got selected because of her talent. I was selected because Mapi got injured. 

But she is right there as I get passed through the room, standing up against the doorway, a soft smile on her face. 

Mapi is the one who pushes me towards her and I can't decide whether she doesn't notice my attempts of making frantic eye contact with her, or if she just decides to ignore it. She whispers that everything will be fine, that I just need to talk to her and things will start to get better. 

I try telling her that she's wrong, that it's not that easy. 

But those arms are around me as soon as I am in reaching distance and it takes everything inside of me to not crack right there. But I can feel the parts of me that were slowly rebuilt over the past month start to fall apart again, but differently.

All those things that crashed out of me by my piano a few months ago come racing right back inside. It is like she gathered them all up in her arms and carried them around for me until she saw me next, until she would be able to give them back. 

She sort of picks me up as I start to cry, moving out and into one of the physio rooms, giving us more privacy. Away from the prying eyes of our teammates who have been so intrigued by the drama between us. 

So intrigued by the drama that has been ripping me up from the inside. 

And it looks like it has also been ripping up Alexia, if you look at the suitcases under her eyes and the severe discolouration in her face. 

"Elena." Her voice is clearly tearful, but I can barely hear it over the gut wrenching cries thatI am releasing. 

In reality, they aren't really that loud but they overcome me in a way that blocks out everything else around me. 

Because I have been void of everything for over a month, no emotions. Not happy, sad, confused, excited, disappointed. Not anything. 

But to feel those arms. Her arms that keep me safe, that shelter me from life's issues. It is a feeling like no other. 

Something I can finally feel. 

And I never want to not feel again, because even though I am not happy, at least I am finally feeling something. At least I am not so empty like I have been, a bottomless pit in my stomach that simply could not be filled. 

And with Alexia's arms around me, it feels like I can get through anything. 

I am a Putellas. I am strong. 

"Elena... I have been a terrible big sister." Her voice breaks and her head lands in my hair. 

"And I have been thinking and thinking, wracking my brain to try and figure out what started this all, and I finally remembered the other day. Elena, I do not deserve you."

I move out from beneath her, looking at her intently. 

Wet eyes meet wet eyes and I immediately pull her into a hug. 

"I have missed you so much, Ale. I have missed you so much."

"I am so, so, so sorry, Elena. Nothing I say will be enough."

We speak at the same time, tears consuming us as we both try to fix our relationship. 

Fix the relationship that has been shattered, broken, kicked, destroyed. 

Fix the relationship that I would do anything to repair. 

"Please, listen to me." 

I look up at her as she grabs my face, cupping my cheeks in her hands and wiping away the tears that have fallen. 

"I said things to you. Things that I didn't mean, things that were wrong. And then I questioned why you weren't comfortable around me as much any more. And I stopped being your sister, pequena. I stopped watching your games, picking you up from training, taking you to ice cream, helping you with your homework. I just stopped a few years ago and never even tried to explain, never tried to regain your trust."

I frown. 

"At my party, the La Masia one. When I cried. You got upset at me and I was childish about the whole thing, I used it against you for so long."

"And you have every right to, Elena, because I was so terrible and I wish I had a reason, something to excuse my words, but I do not. I was stressed, I was anxious. I projected it all onto my perfect baby sister because I didn't know what else to do. And I was a bad sister before that, too. I never should have told you that I was too busy for you because you are so much more important than anything else in my life, but I acted like I didn't care about you at all. I am a terrible sister."

"I didn't help." My voice is mousy, squeaky. Because I have been crying and I am doing everything I can to avoid another round of tears. "I didn't make it easier for you, I wasn't strong like you, like I should have been."

Alexia inhales sharply, immediately shaking her head, pulling mine back into her chest in a tight hug. 

"I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, Elena, because you are the strongest person I know and I am so, so proud of everything you have done. You have been brave, determined, passionate, so many things. I have been the weak one. I have been so scared of losing you, but I was the one who ruined everything and I lost you, I let you slip through my fingers and I will never forgive myself for that. You are incredible, Elena, and you won't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not me, not anyone."

"I have missed you so much."

Alexia is surprised when I lean further into her arms, but I am grateful when she tightens them around me. 

She is my older sister, and I have missed her so much. 

She is my older sister, and I lost her for a while. I lost her and my life became miserable. My days were more dreary and I began to hate everything else in my life. 

But now she is here, she has acknowledged the issues and I finally feel some relief. 

I finally feel like I am getting her back. 

Her arms are filling me up with all those emotions, warm ones, cold ones. Things I never want to feel again but things I want to feel every day for the rest of my life. 

Alexia is my sister.

And I realised, last night, that I don't have to be exactly like her, because I am not her. I am Elena, and I debuted for Barcelona at 15. 

The youngest to ever do it. 

It's pretty cool. 

But it's even better to have my sister there, cheering for me like she always said she would. She is proud, she loves me and I do think she has missed me like I have missed her. 

And I can finally feel myself mending. 

We spoke more after the celebrations, she took me to dinner, slowly patching up my insides that I once thought were beyond prepare. 

She told me over and over that she was sorry, she feels terrible and she will never let me slip away from her again. She says that I am incredible and that she wishes she had my talent, that I will grow to become the best that the club has ever seen and that I have already paved my way into the history of this football club. 

But she also tells me that I am a good person, with good values and a good heart. That Papi would be proud of the person I have become. Not just the footballer, the person. 

For the second time that day, I feel happy, full of love, completely content. 

Because Alexia loves me, and sometimes, the love of a sister is all you need. 

~~~~~~

and that's it!

Let me know if you want to see anything else from this little universe and i'll see what i can do

thank you for reading this all, i have seen all the comments and asks and they mean the world :)

hope you enjoyed

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii - bonus part II (Euros)"

N/A: "So, yesterday these three decided to talk to me, and here it is, it's just something small. For those who read the first bonus, this part takes place during the 'six months later' period, enjoy!!"

Before

Pedri didn't believe in love at first sight, he believed that people had something in common, talk, become friends and then maybe get into a relationship. When he didn't have that with Isa, it made things difficult for him to understand, because all of his feelings for the woman were so intense since the first time he saw her... She gets herself in his mind she gets herself in his skin. He didn't know how to explain what he felt about her, she was a pretty woman, with a beautiful smile, and the moment he saw that smile he was sure that she had stolen something from him, he made sure to even go to a doctor appointment for an exam for his heart, to make sure that sensation he felt when saw the woman wasn't deceased. But it wasn't, he was all healthy, so now, he was sure that it was her effect. He has to deal with the weeks of his friends making fun of him, about how obsessed he was with the woman, but in his defense, it was anxiety, and now he was worried that it was something in his head, cause he looked for her at Ciutat Esportiva, and didn't find her in any place. If it weren't for Ferran being present when he saw her for the first time, he would have been certain she was just a figment of his imagination...

"Pedriiii, you're in la-la land," Pedri looked at the little boy in front of him, who was sitting on a ball, pouting at the player. The little boy had been visiting him after training sessions and at the academy since they became friends at the stadium. He seemed strangely familiar.

"Sorry, buddy. I was thinking about something," Pedri sat down next to him, messing up the hair that fell over his face. And then, it clicked for him. That child was always walking around, seeing many people, and before he could think clearly about what he was about to ask, he heard his voice speaking to the little boy.

"Hey, you're always around here. Have you seen a very beautiful woman, with long hair..." He stopped talking when he realized how stupid he was and how strange it sounded to have this conversation with the little boy. Pedri felt his face heat up.

"My mom is very beautiful," the little boy said with a shrug, looking at the player’s face curiously, which made him laugh out loud.

"I'm sure she is, buddy," Pedri said, standing up and extending his hand to pull the boy up, as one of the staff informed them they would water the field now.

"Do you want to go see her?" the little boy asked indifferently, walking beside the player. Pedri felt his face go pale, imagining the scene of him standing in front of the older woman, who would probably be looking at him furiously for having an inappropriate conversation with her son.

"Please, forget what I asked you," Pedri begged the little boy, who shrugged and he reached into his pocket, looking for something the player already knew about since it had become a routine. The little boy extended his hand to Pedri, who opened his palm so the boy could pour in a handful of M&Ms.

"I have to go now, see you soon" Axel hugged Pedri's leg and then ran down the corridor. "Bye, bye Pedriiii" the little boy screamed as he was far away in the corridor.

Now

"What are you thinking about it? Why are you looking at me like that?" Isa asked stopping in front of him, Pedri smiled at her.

"Just remember something..." He kisses the woman and makes room for her to sit beside him on the lounge chair. They both look at Axel, who is standing at the edge of the pool, cautiously eyeing the water.

"Pedriiii, will you come in with me?" Axel runs over to Pedri.

"Buddy, I can't..." Pedri couldn't finish his sentence as his heart tightened upon seeing the little boy's tear-filled eyes. Pedri looked at Isa for help.

"Baby, you know what we talked about. Pedri came to visit us just for a bit, but he has to get back to training with the rest of the team," Isa explained patiently. Pedri always admired the way she talked to the little boy. Pedri pulled the boy into a hug to comfort him. Since his relationship with Isa became more serious, his bond with Axel had grown even closer and strengthened gradually. So, he wasn't surprised to see that Axel had felt his absence on a longer trip, even though Isa had talked to him about the time coming. He fell ill a few days after his trip but got better as the player family visited him so they could travel to Germany together.

However, the boy was still quieter and more downcast. Fer said he tried everything to cheer up the little boy... But he only got excited on the day of boarding. Yet, the reality of not seeing Pedri every day made him sick again. And Pedri only found out from his mother, as Isa didn't want to bother Pedri, insisting it wasn't his responsibility. Isa and her insecurities, but Pedri would dispel them and make her understand once and for all that they were his, and he wanted all the consequences and responsibilities. So in the morning, when he spoke with Axel on the phone and heard his tearful voice, he insisting to the coaching staff that he needed to see his family, he needed to see Axel.

"Are you going to see me at the stadium today?" Pedri pulled Axel to look at the boy, his face red from silent crying, and he nodded in confirmation as Pedri smiled.

"Are you going to score goals for me?" Axel asked with a shy smile, and Pedro tickled the little boy.

"I promise I'll give my all for that," Pedri kissed the boy's head.

"Axel, we're going to the market, do you want to come with us?" Pedri's mother appeared in the yard calling the boy.

"YESSSSS, gran gran!" Axel shouted, giving Pedri one last hug and running towards the woman as if he wasn't sad about not staying with Pedri. The player was in shock, seeing the boy call his mother "grandma" warmed his heart.

"When did this start?" Pedri asked looking at Isa who had a silly grin on her face.

"A few days ago when they went to pick up him from school," Isa sat on Pedri's lap, kissing him. "I missed you," Pedri smiled, feeling his heart race faster.

"Did you like my surprise?" He asked, referring to his shaved beard, Isabella rolled her eyes.

"You're lucky I like you... Especially when you do things just to annoy me." Pedri laughed, remembering the little argument they had because of the photo of Isabella with Bellingham at an event she attended, resulting in him taking out his beard.

"You need to go to the hotel..." Isa said, kissing the player's cheek.

"Are you going to have lunch with Ferran's family?" Pedri asked, hugging the woman and enjoying it a little more than he should.

"Yes, they were going to come here, but we're too lazy to dirty the kitchen," Isa laughed. "Oh, your fans are commenting on how you look like a proud dad with Lamine in the national team."

Pedri laughed, following the comments. The truth is he was very excited about his teammate being on the national team at just 16 years old. He wanted to be there to support him because he understood how big a deal it was.

"Well, we already have two, we can handle one more," Pedri said excitedly, and Isa stopped in her tracks, eyes narrowed at the player. He definitely needed to get rid of Isa's insecurity. "What? You don't want to give Axel and Gavira siblings?"

Pedri insisted, and the woman's eyes widened so much that he was afraid they might pop out. Isa opened her mouth a few times but nothing came out.

"Isabellaaaa," Pedri approached, kissing the woman's cheek.

"Uh... Gavi's fans were calling me a bad mother because he didn't come with us," Isa said, returning to reality and changing the subject.

"But he's coming, isn't he?" Pedri asked worriedly; his friend had been a bit down lately.

"He doesn't want to stop his recovery now, but he said he'll try," Isa shrugged.

"Pedri, we have to go," the team driver called Pedri. Isa hugged and kissed him once more.

"Good luck, have a great debut, we'll be here for you," Pedri kissed Isa's forehead and then got into the car that would take him back with the team.

Spain had an amazing game, and their 3-0 victory against Croatia left everyone ecstatic, with one of the goals assisted by Pedri.

It was amazing to start the Euro that way. And because of the team's victory, the players were given a day off with their families, so Pedri left the hotel and went to the house his family had rented. He was extremely grateful for the idea, as everyone would be more comfortable. When he arrived, he was welcomed by his father-in-law, who hugged him proudly. His parents, who were in the kitchen preparing dinner, also repeated the gesture. Fer was peacefully sleeping on the sofa, and as tempting as it was, Pedri didn't want to wake his brother.

"Where are Isa and Axel?" he asked his father-in-law, who seemed focused on fixing something on the TV.

"Upstairs," he replied, shrugging. Pedri took the stairs two at a time to get there faster, as he hadn't told them he was coming home, so he would be a surprise.

He entered the room with the light on and could hear conversations coming from the bathroom. Axel was talking nonstop while Isa listened patiently. He stopped in his tracks when he heard a topic that made his heartache.

"But then dad said I won't be able to see Pedri anymore... and I don't want that," the little boy said resentfully.

"You shouldn't listen to what he says; he's not the one who decides that," Isa said patiently. "I've told you before, it's our decision, yours and mine," Isa said firmly.

Fer had told him that a few days before their trip to Germany, Henry, Axel's father, had shown up and tried to stop the trip, claiming he wanted to stay with the boy. He even tried to bribe him with a trip to Disney, which caused unnecessary stress. Fer said he had never seen Isa as furious as that day. Pedri felt nervous and angry hearing that, but proud of Isa for standing up to him. He also felt a bit of anger about the situation. Since his relationship had gotten serious, Axel's father always harassed them when everything was peaceful. He made no effort to be constantly involved with the boy, but when he remembered he had a son, it was only to apply psychological pressure on the child and make threats to Isabella. This led to sad and irritable days for mother and son, though Pedri was always there to cheer them up.

"Shall we watch a movie?" Axel asked in a sleepy voice, and Pedri took the opportunity to enter the bathroom.

"A movie? I'm in!" Axel squealed in surprise at the player's presence, making Isabella laugh. The little boy ran to Pedri, who picked him up.

"Will you stay with us?" he asked, whining. Isa pouted, watching the scene.

"Yes, now and tomorrow. I'll only return to the team on Monday," Pedri explained.

"YAAAAY," Axel said excitedly. Pedri extended his arm to Isa, pulling her into a hug. Pedri genuinely loved those moments with them. His heart skipped a beat every time. He walked to the bed, placing Axel in the middle, while he took off his shoes and lay on one side. "Come on, mommy," Axel called.

"Yeah, come on, mommy," Pedri teased, making Isa roll her eyes and walk over to them.

"Don't you want to have dinner first?" Isa asked with a yawn.

"Nooo, I'm not hungry," Axel said simply, looking at the player to see his response.

"Me neither, buddy," Pedri looked at Isa, who just smiled and snuggled into the bed.

"That makes three of us," she kissed Axel's cheek and then leaned over to kiss Pedri.

Isa ended up falling asleep even before Pedri and Axel chose the movie to watch, and when they finally decided, Axel was showing signs that he wouldn't last much longer. He yawned countless times, his little eyes swollen and blinking slowly. Then he turned and snuggled closer to Isa, who automatically wrapped an arm around her son, and watching them warmed the player's heart.

"Night, night, Pedriiii," Axel said in a sleepy voice.

"Night, night, Axel," Pedri replied.

"I really, really, reaaaaaaly like you, and that you are with us" he said in a sleepy voice

Pedri felt a lump in his throat, an emotion he had no idea existed, filling his chest. For a moment, he stayed silent, just appreciating the feeling and feeling grateful for that moment in his life. He had recovered from an injury, was playing at a high level, was back with his national team, and had gained two extremely special and essential people in his life. Pedri was startled when Axel quickly sat up and glared at him with a sleepy yet angry expression.

"Aren't you going to say it back to me?" Axel asked angrily. Then Isabella's laughter filled the room. Pedri also laughed at the boy's reaction.

"Of course I really, really, reaaaaaaly like you too, Axel," he said, hugging the boy, who settled down again, falling asleep almost instantly.

"He's got you wrapped around his little finger," Isa commented, still amused.

"He scared me, sitting up like that," Pedri murmured, and Isa laughed again. Soon, silence filled the room once more. Pedri stayed quiet, just listening to their calm breathing, and couldn't think of a better way to end the night with his little family.

[killerlookz]

She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty: Pt. II | Joost Klein

Description: Joost Klein x f! reader (part two to this fic here) Joost returns home from tour, and he and reader finally get to rekindle their relationship with some much-needed make up sex.

Content: 18+ nsfw, mdni- rpf smut, oral (f! recieving), fingering, unprotected PiV, allusions to past angst/relationship issues but mostly just comfort/fluff

Word count: 4,379

Your eyes flutter as a soft touch against your cheek pulls awake you from your unconscious state. Heavy eyelids prying themselves open, fighting against the weight of sleep. Your bedroom is drenched in moonlight, providing just enough clarity to identify the figure that stands above you.

"Joost?" Your straining voice thick with sleep as your eyebrows furrow, confused, but you'd be lying if you said a smile wasn't tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Oh," He responds, lips just above your forehead, "Schatje, I didn't mean to wake you." His voice soft and apologetic.

"No," You mumble, heart pumping, far too ecstatic for your exhausted state, "You're home?" You outstretch a lazy arm, reaching for the lamp on your bedside table so you can actually see the man you're talking to. With a click, the room is enveloped in a soft orange glow. Your eyelids snap shut at the initial brightness, too harsh for your eyes, sensitive from sleep.

Last you heard, Joost wasn't supposed to be home from tour until tomorrow evening. Not that you could complain about his early appearance, it had been a hard few weeks without him.

You stare at the man above you, his glasses hanging down his nose, exposing his eyes, the pale skin surrounding them seeming darker than usual with hints of purple, his hair, messy. He looked exhausted, you figured it had been a while since he had gotten a good night's sleep.

"I was able to get an earlier flight." A small smile appears on his lips as he slowly stands up from the position where he hovers over you.

"Didn't tell me." You pout

"I didn't want you waiting up for me." His head falls to the side, apologetically.

"No? Just going to hover over me in the dark at-whatever time in the morning it is."

Joost shakes his head, chuckling,

"You make it sound so creepy."

"It is a little creepy," You giggle, "Waking up to some guy hanging above my face."

"Just giving you a kiss goodnight."

"Then why don't you come to bed?" You ask, patting the empty space next to you.

It was then that you had realized perhaps subconsciously you had been leaving room for Joost in bed every night. It had been over a month since you had last shared a bed, and yet still you had continued to sleep on "your" side of the bed, not allowing yourself to sprawl out.

"A few minutes, okay?"

You nod, your head falling to the side, still sleepy.

You manage to keep your eyes open, however, as you watch Joost walk away from you. You track his movements with your eyes, your gaze not leaving his body as he walks about the room.

There had been a lingering tension in the room, one that lightly dulled your excitement of having Joost home. Many words had been left unsaid between the two of you, having thought it better to push aside discussing those tumultuous first few weeks he had been away until Joost had gotten home. Neither of you wanted to deal with emotions getting lost or misunderstood over the phone anymore, both you and Joost wanted to fix your relationship, not continue the cycle of arguments you had unfortunately fallen into.

Still, things had been amicable between you, being able to hold conversations like normal- but, that gnawing feeling of obvious feelings having been unspoken did not cease.

Despite the tension, your heart still flutters as you watch Joost undress on the other side of the bedroom, stripping down to only his boxers. A smile grazes his lips as he looks up at you, catching you staring at him. You smile back, unashamed of how hard you had been looking.

"Be right there," The grin lingers on his face as he goes to toss his clothes into the closet. You take this moment to turn off the lamp beside you, the room once again now only lit by moonlight.

Moments later he's walking back toward the bed, the mattress dipping as he climbs in next to you.

Immediately, the two of you are meeting in the middle of the bed, wrapping a leg around his as you pull yourself near him, his arm snaking around your waist. You close your eyes as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss, so soft yet still filled with so many emotions. Joost grips you tighter, holding you firmly against his,

"I missed you," He mumbles, pulling away only slightly, his lips still ghosting yours as he speaks.

"I missed you too." It wasn't solely a physical missing him, but missing the Joost before tour, the Joost before the arguments and nights ridden with anger and spite. But as you lay in each other's arms, it feels as if you already have that Joost back, the Joost that wouldn't ever dare to hurt your feelings, not even in the slightest, "I'm glad you're home."

It felt ridiculous even saying having that Joost back, he had never left, and deep down you knew it, under no circumstances would either of you truly intentionally hurt each other.

You feel Joost's chest rising against yours before he lets out a large exhale.

"Mmm," He hums, nuzzling his face into your cheek, "Ik ben zo blij om thuis te zijn." (I'm so glad to be home), A small kiss is placed against your jaw before Joost speaks again, his words becoming slower, "Met mijn lieve meisje" (With my sweet girl)

"You're exhausted." You giggle, Joost had a habit of mixing up languages once he got to a certain point of tired, often speaking in some combination of English and Dutch, but it seemed now he had forgotten English entirely, "Prober wat te slapen." (try to get some sleep),

"Ahh," Joost's breath tickles your neck as he exhales, "You should speak Dutch more, zo mooi klinkt." (sounds so pretty)

You can't help but feel a little bad, your usage of Dutch in day-to-day life hadn't exactly been nearly as much as it should have been for someone with a Dutch boyfriend, living in the Netherlands. Despite the length the two of you had been together, and how long you had been living here you had yet to feel confident enough to use it so often.

You simply hum in response, unsure of what to say as you snuggle up closer to Joost, burying your head in his neck, and wrapping an arm around his torso. You had missed this closeness, realizing just how much you craved his touch as Joost's arm snakes up under the T-shirt you had been wearing, feeling his palm grip your now-exposed skin.

"Hold on," You mumble, sneaking out of Joost's grip, grabbing at the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You toss the fabric somewhere in the room, leaving both of you clad only in your underwear.

The two of you were long past the point in your relationship of there being any shame or shyness around nudity. There was nothing inherently sexual about your decision to further undress, rather the move was done solely due to your desire for skin-to-skin contact with Joost.

As you go to lay back down, Joost turns on his side, pressing his chest to your now bare back. His skin is soft, the warmth of his body heat exuding a familiar warmth as he presses his face into your neck. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Slaap lekker, ik hou van jou." (Sleep tight, I love you.) Joost mumbles into your ear, and you can tell sleep is quickly overtaking him.

"Ik hou ook van jou." (I love you too.)

You wake up with a low groan, immediately noticing the sharp pain in your neck as you attempt to change your position.

"Ugh," You moan at the sensation, eyes fluttering open.

"Hmm?" You hear a hum from next to you, remembering that Joost had come home last night.

Inhaling deeply you turn your whole body to the side, wincing at the way your neck aches with your movements.

Your boyfriend lies next to you, awake, but his eyelids are still heavy as he looks at you. You forget the pain you're in for just a moment as you admire his peaceful state, his face illuminated by the soft orange glow of sunlight.

"What's wrong?" He asks, voice thick with sleep.

"Slept weird." You furrow your eyebrows, "My neck really hurts."

"Mijn arme meisje," (My poor girl) He pouts, "C'mon," He stretches a hand to your waist, "Roll over, maybe a massage will help."

Wordlessly, you comply, rolling onto your stomach, trying to adjust yourself comfortably against the pillows, tilting your head to the side so as to not suffocate yourself.

The bed dips as Joost moves from his position, a hand grazing your thigh, motioning you to pull your legs apart so he can sit between them.

You can feel Joost hovering above you as he kneels between your legs, his presence is a comforting one.

"Good morning," He mumbles, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder blade.

"Morning." You respond, silently hoping for him to kiss you more. But soon enough his thumbs press against the back of your neck, the rest of your fingers just barely resting against your throat as he softly massages the spot where you're sore.

A small gasp leaves your mouth at the sensation, your eyes forcing themselves shut.

"That feel okay?" Joost asks, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Perfect." You sigh, letting yourself enjoy his touch.

He continues for a little while longer, gentle moans leaving your mouth as he soothes your pain with the palms of his hand. After a few minutes of silence, Joost speaks again,

"Are things okay- between us? You've been short with me since I got back."

"Oh," You exhale, "-M'just tired." It's only partially the truth, you know you can't skirt around having to discuss the issues the pair of you had had at the beginning of tour for much longer, but you're hoping to divert the conversation for just a little bit more so you can revel in this moment, "We can talk about everything later. Let's just enjoy our morning"

"Okay," Joost's voice barely above a whisper, "Want me to go lower?" His hands trailing down to your shoulders.

"Mhm," You hum.

Joost kneads into the skin of your shoulders, eliciting more moans and sighs from you. His touch is just firm enough to be effective, yet still gentle, romantic.

He continues massaging down your back as you're enveloped in a comfortable silence. All tension seems to be erased from your body as Joost works his hands against you. There's no stress, no worries, only him and his reassuring touch.

Joost finds himself sliding his hands down your hips and to your thighs. He grips each thigh with one hand, his fingers pressing into the supple flesh. A familiar tightness creeps between your legs as you realize where he has positioned himself, and how close to your inner thighs his thumbs are.

You sigh as your back arches into his touch, forcing his hands a little further up your thighs. Joost continues his movements, his fingers inching closer, and closer to the inside of your legs.

"Like that?" He asks, his voice making it evident he already knows the answer.

"Yes." Is just about all you can manage out.

Joost swipes a thumb across the crotch of your panties, shivers running down your spine as he does so.

"How about if I touch you here?" He presses his thumb right above your clothed entrance, "Would you like that?"

"Please," You strain, your inner thighs pulsing with a growing arousal.

Joost's thumb ghosts over the fabric of your panties a couple times, swiping back and forth, teasingly, before pulling them to the side.

You gasp as the cold air from your bedroom meets your now exposed wetness before Joost slides a thumb through your folds, gathering your arousal before pressing on your clit. He draws circles against the sensitive nerves, coaxing gentle moans from you.

You need him terribly, as enjoyable as phone sex had been while he was away on tour, nothing could ever compare to the real thing. Sometimes it felt like Joost knew your body better than you did yourself, always able to make you feel a sort of pleasure you hadn't known was possible.

"Lay on your back," Joost commands, his voice still gentle. You do exactly as he says, whining a little at the loss of stimulation as his hand leaves your crotch.

You lay flat against the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Joost's fingers find themselves in the waistband of your panties, sliding them down the length of your legs and discarding them across the room.

Perched between your legs, Joost motions you to bend them, putting you on full display for him.

"So pretty," He muses as his eyes trail your naked figure. His small praise has your body hot as you position your gaze towards him.

His tongue swipes across his lips as he stares down at you, eyes aflame with desire. You had never seen a picture so perfect, the way that the warm glow of the sun seeped into your bedroom, illuminating him just right. You marveled at the man in front of you, even after years it had felt unbelievable that he was yours.

Joost leans forward, letting his hands rest on your thighs, pulling them apart. Soon his lips are pressed to your abdomen, soft kisses being littered against your skin before they eventually trail lower. One final kiss is placed just above your clit, forcing your back to arch as you all but beg for him.

A smirk graces Joost's mouth before his tongue leaves his lips, softly licking at you, forcing a sharp, "Oh," to leave you.

His tongue circles around your clit a few more times before being replaced with his lips, sucking at the bundle of nerves.

Each new movement of his mouth against you has you whining with pure delight, his tongue slowly trailing down to your entrance before dipping inside.

"Fuck.' You sputter, your hands finding their way into his hair. Joost's tongue flattens against your cunt, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, before pressing a kiss to it. The sensation has you gripping at the messy blonde strands of his hair, causing Joost to groan. The vibration his low voice makes against your pussy causes your abdomen to tighten, and your body to twitch in pure delight.

He pulls back for just a second, making you whimper at the lack of stimulation,

"Taste so good, schatje," He mumbles, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, "God, I missed this- missed your pussy."

His sweet words only make your body grow hotter, tingling with fervent arousal.

He continues to work his tongue against your cunt, skillful licks followed by sporadic kisses. The pleasure you feel is so intense that it is almost painful, loud, high-pitched moans now replace your soft whines.

Joost's lips envelop your clit, sucking at the swollen bud, his mouth is warm, wet, and unrelenting against your sensitive nerves, and you feel your legs trembling, you know you're close.

Your fingers grip Joost's hair, tight, as the stimulation almost becomes too much to bear.

"So close," You whine, but Joost doesn't seem to acknowledge your words, only continuing to push you closer to completion with his mouth. You rock your lips against Joost's face, forcing his tongue further onto you.

Your eyes force themselves shut as you feel your orgasm crashing into you, no words can escape your mouth, only strained noises as your toes curl, muscles tense, and legs twitch. Your cunt spasms under the pressure of Joost's warm mouth, your arousal spilling out of you and onto his tongue.

Joost doesn't spare a single drop as your orgasm rolls over you, the intense wave slowly subsiding as your eyes flutter open. Still, Joost's tongue remains buried inside of you, collecting your release. His lingering licks force a strained whine out of you, sore with overstimulation.

Joost eventually pulls back from you, his wet lips trailing kisses on your thighs before raising his head completely.

You struggle to catch your breath as Joost's head emerges from between your thighs, sitting up, a grin pressed against his lips, glossy from you.

You swallow thickly as you look down his body, noticing the way his cock strains against the tightness of his underwear, the white fabric spearing no detail about how he was feeling.

If he were to touch you now you'd surely cry from overstimulation, yet- somehow it seemed to be all you wanted- him, buried deep inside you.

Joost rests a hand on your thigh before turning a sympathetic gaze to you,

"Too tired to continue?"

"No," You shake your head.

"Good," His lips curling into a smirk, "I know you can hold out a little longer for me."

You nod, affirming his words,

"Need you, please." You whine, staring right at him, your sore legs parting once more as you speak.

Joost lurches forward, holding himself above you with his arms positioned on either side of you. He lowers himself slightly to press a kiss to your lips. You moan at the lingering taste of your release on him.

His kisses trail to your neck, sucking softly against your beating pulse. Your desperate hands roam his body, aching just to feel him.

"You know I love you, right?" He mumbles against your neck.

"Mhm," You sigh, content, "I love you too."

He lifts his head from where it is buried against you, looking straight down at you once more, shaking his head,

"I don't ever want to lose you, liefje." He speaks in earnest, eyes widening. Your heart feels like it's skipping beats as his intense gaze lingers on you, drawing out those feelings you had been keeping unsaid.

"I know," You whisper, "We're going to be okay." You nod, you know it. Joost nods with you, his gaze softening as he lowers a kiss to your cheek.

"You don't know how bad I've wanted his," Joost's voice is suddenly low, seductive.

"I think I do," You smirk, "And I think I may want this even more."

"Yeah," He breathes, "Why don't you show me then, mooi meisje" (pretty girl)

Joost rolls over, landing on his back, causing the bed to bounce slightly. You straddle Joost's legs, fingers trembling with excitement as they tease the waistband of his boxers.

You lean forward, pressing kisses to his stomach, eventually leading down to the elastic of his underwear. You can feel his breathing deepen as your lips grace his waist

You let your hand fall from where it toyed with the elastic, your palm rolling over his crotch. You feel his cock twitch under your light touch. You flick your eyes up to him, where he lays, propped up on the pillows, mouth open slightly.

You smirk as you continue to palm him through his boxers, his hips beginning to buck into your hand.

"Come on, schatje." He just about begs, hips stuttering forward. A smirk graces your lips, "Fuck, come on, I need you."

There's something of a desperation in his voice, his blatant desire for you just about knocking the wind out of you. Yes, teasing him was fun... but fucking him was definitely way better.

You bite your lip, your head lowering in a slow nod as your fingers return back to the waistband of his boxers as you begin to tug them down. He doesn't hesitate to help you out, lifting his back just slightly so you're able to pull them down his thighs, his hard cock springing from the confines of the fabric.

You give him a sheepish smile as his back returns to the mattress, leaning forward once more and wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. Your firm grip causes him to grasp as you slowly begin to pump your hand up and down the shaft.

Joost's head tips back as you continue to work your hand up and down his cock. You feel your own arousal growing as you watch his face, his jaw clenching as struggled groans leave his mouth.

"Stop that," He breathes out, "Come here, want you on top of me." He beckons.

You remove your hand from him, slowly crawling up the length of his body before stopping, now straddling his upper thighs. Joost flicks his head up, motioning for you to continue. You sit up, positioning yourself above him.

"That's it," He purrs as you grab the base of his cock, lining him up with your entrance. The head grazes your wet folds, causing you to gasp, only craving him more. You look back up at Joost, waiting for permission to continue. He nods fervently, "Go on, I know you want it."

"Yeah," You sigh, maintaining eye contact with him as you begin to sink down on him. Your lips purse, forming a straight line, eyes squeezing shut as he begins to stretch you out, and you take your time to fully take him in.

"Fuck, liefje," Joost groans as he bottoms out into you.

"You want me to go faster?"

"No," Joost breathes out, "No this is perfect, take it slow, schatje, enjoy the moment."

You're fine with that, slowly raising your hips until only the tip of his cock is in you, before sinking down onto Joost once more.

Joost sits up, grabbing your hips to help guide you at a steady pace that feels good for both of you. But it's not long before his hands leave your hips, palms sliding up and down your body, the pads of his fingers grabbing at you, groping wherever he can get his hands on.

"Joost," You whine as he hits that perfect spot inside you, "Oh, fuck, Joost."

"Feels good?" He asks, knowingly, his breathing heavy, "It's like you were made for me- fuck, you were made for me." He remarked at how perfect you felt around him.

All you can respond with is a series of sloppy moans and whines, the feeling of him inside you making your brain go numb.

"That's it," He groans, "Use that pretty voice, show me how good you feel."

Joost settles his grip on your ass, his dull fingernails digging into your flesh, pinching just enough to elicit a delightful sting. Joost's handle on you once again helps you maintain a steady pace as your legs begin to tire, muscles starting to burn from your consistent movement. To further help you, he begins bucking his hips in time with your movement, thrusting into you as you sink down onto him.

The way he repeatedly hits inside you makes it hard for you to concentrate, your only focus is on the overwhelming amount of pleasure you feel, each thrust forward coaxing you closer to another orgasm.

You begin to fall forward, your head resting on Joost's shoulder, as your chest collides into his. Your bodies are hot, sticky with a thin sheen of sweat, and the heat he gives off is almost unbearable as you rest against him. But the rest of your body is far too overwhelmed to sit up straight

"I love you," You slur out against his neck, dizzy off adoration and pleasure.

"I love you too, liefje," His hands lose their grip on your ass, instead his arms coming around to hold you at the waist. Joost places small kisses on your shoulder as your movements quicken, losing any pace, "I love you so much." He reiterates.

You're close, heat building in your abdomen as every muscle in your body constricts. You know you can't hold on much longer, your orgasm about to hit you at any moment now.

"I'm gonna-" You sputter, unable to finish your sentence as its broken by a sharp moan, your cunt clenching as an intense wall of pleasure smacks right into you. Your eyes flutter, your whole body twitching as your pussy spasms around Joost's cock, causing him to groan, your movements becoming sloppier as your release spills out of you, lewd, wet sounds filling the room.

"Good," Joost exhales, "Cum all over my cock, liefje."

Your orgasm soon disappears as Joost continues to thrust upwards into you, pleasure soon turning into overstimulation as you slump completely into him.

"Not much longer," He reassures, "You're doing so good."

Tears begin to spill down your cheeks at the feeling, your already sensitive nerves being worked to the extreme.

Joost's hips start to staccato, his thrusts becoming sharp, causing you to yelp into the spot where your head is buried into his neck. He grips you tighter, feeling like he's about to suffocate you before with a last grunt he's spilling into you, warm ribbons of cum coating the walls of your cunt with a few final thrusts.

Your body is trembling as you attempt to lift yourself up from where you lay against Joost, your body still tingling with lingering pleasure. Your eyelids are low as you look at Joost, your face carrying an entirely blissed-out expression.

A smile falls on Joost's lips,

"Oh," He chuckles, a hand coming up to wipe the tears from your cheek, "These are the only tears I ever want to make you cry."

You return a smile to him before his expression changes,

"Het spijt me, schatje" (I'm sorry, baby), His words are full of regret, "I'm so sorry for how things have been."

"I know," Your voice barely a whisper, "I'm sorry too."

"Things will be better, now that I'm home," He presses a kiss to your shoulder, "I promise."

"I know- I know they will," You nod.

If there was anything you knew for certain, you knew that you and Joost loved each other too much to stop fighting for your relationship. A rough patch of a few weeks had been nothing in comparison to the countless happy memories the two of you shared.

"Ik hou van jou, liefje," Another kiss to your shoulder, "Don't ever forget that."

[tadpolesonalgae]

Shared Camomile[*]

Elain x fem!reader

synopsis: after months of practically living together, Elain finally broaches the topic she’s been longing to share with you. You’re reluctant, doubtful, nervous. Two females? That can’t be right. So Elain takes it on herself to go out into her little garden to find something to help convince you of what you should already know. That you’re hers. 

a/n: cannot believe it’s taken this long for me to write something like this for Elain

warnings: use of an aphrodisiac/love potion from Elain, technically dubcon, smut, facesitting, fingering, pussy eating, squirting, fluff for my favourite girl 🩷🧡💛

word count: 3,662

“What?” You ask, perplexed, tilting your head slightly before your lips are stretching in a wide smile, cheeks aching as they flush with laughter. “Move in together? You are funny Elain.” 

Dark, rich cocoa eyes blink at you quietly from across the table, her burnished gold hair hanging in full ringlets, spilling over her shoulders while small coils of silky hair quirk and twist over her brow. Between you is a cooling tray, holding the berry tarts you’d spent the morning lovingly making, flour-dusted aprons doing little to prevent the powdery mess from puffing into the air and dusting the fabric of your dresses. The smell is delicious, able to pick out the distinct citrus of the lemon and orange, the pleasant apricot and sweet blackberry, each held within a circle of thick, crispy pastry, golden-brown on its crust and slightly flaky. 

“Do you really find it so absurd?” She asks, a touch fainter than before, and you think you catch a look of hurt across her pretty features. You blink, caught off guard by her expression—you’d thought it a joke. “I…” you fumble briefly, unsure of yourself. “Is it…normal for two women to live together in the human lands?” You ask tentatively. “I had understood it was much the same as it is here, from how you’d spoken about…” She nods her head faintly, neither of you particularly wanting to mention the name of her past human lover. 

“No, you’re right,” she says softly, glancing down over the tray of delicious pastries, still steaming slightly with heat, their centres looking soft and slightly more liquid than they should. Once they’re cool, they’ll possess a more jam-like consistency—a little thicker, and less prone to spilling down one’s front after a bite. “But folk seem more content here. Happy to let people love,” Elain says, warm brown eyes raising to yours, her long lashes fluttering slightly with nerves that only fae eyes could pick out.  

“Besides,” she continues, standing straighter, fingers splaying across the kitchen counter, “you spend so much time in this house, with me, that nothing much would really change…” 

“Yes, but don’t you think people might get the wrong idea?” You counter. It’s a nice idea—lovely, even—but nice things aren’t always possible to have. Elain inclines her chin a little, “and what would be the wrong idea, in this case?” 

Your brow furrows. “That we’re lovers,” you reply, before wincing. “Not that two females loving each other in that way is wrong,” you swiftly amend, “just that, that’s not what it would be for us. People would get the wrong impression.” 

“You don’t…” Elain begins faintly, watching you as if in a daze, before shaking her head, the pretty, dark gold ringlets jostling with the motion. “Maybe we should have this conversation another time. In the evening, when we’ll have longer for a deeper discussion.” 

Elain smiles a little, a familiar softness to her features, and you can’t help the one that spreads across your mouth in reply. 

“Tea?” She offers. 

You nod, happy to accept whatever strange new herbal concoction she’ll serve you.

————

You swallow thickly, reaching for the glass of chilled, crystal-clear water on the small table, speckles of condensation fogging up its sides, small droplets gathering before trickling down over your hot fingers. 

You drink deeply, but it doesn’t seem to help with the warmth that’s been steadily accumulating within your body. The house shouldn’t be this hot, and yet you find yourself reaching to undo another button on your blouse, enough that if anyone else were accompanying you in the parlour, they would have an ample view of the lace peaking out from beneath the soft fabric of your shirt. 

Anxiously, you rearrange yourself in the large armchair, the circular, hand-embroidered pillows being removed from behind you, and tossed onto the long sofa in the hopes you’ll feel a bit cooler. Quilts hang over the back of each chair, so as to keep warm in the evenings during winter, but as it currently stands you can hardly bear to look at them without a wave of heat washing through your body. 

Taking another deep drink, you attempt to refocus your mind on the little botanical book you’d picked up from Elain’s night-stand a few days ago, steadily leafing through it while your friend works outside in her garden, watering plants, repotting small flowers, and so on. Usually you find yourself sitting in one of the hanging chairs—circular seats woven like bird nests, inlaid with pillows and cushions to prop up one’s back, allowing the user to rock faintly on the comfy swing—watching as the burned-orange of the sun spills over Elain as she works. It’s a pleasant routine the two of you enjoy during the warmer months, while most things are blooming, branches hanging heavy with fruits that’re full and bursting with juice, vibrant petals that unfurl in bright clusters of colour and aroma. 

Instead you’d retreated for the time being, having thought the evening haze was somehow getting to you more than usual, wanting to slink into the relative coolness of the indoors until the heat had passed and you could return. But it hadn’t passed, and you’re really considering undoing another pearly button. Considering hiking your skirts a little higher too, despite the almost sheer fabric. 

————

Elain glances up from the gardening bed, noting how far the sun has descended in the sky, the lengthening of the shadows. 

You’d disappeared a little over an hour ago, mumbling about wanting to cool off, and Elain would guess you’ll likely be wanting to strip the clothes from your body about now. She glances away briefly, a hot flush overcoming her cheeks, the smallest tinge of guilt in her heart. But ultimately it’s harmless, she assures and reassures herself, it’s not like she’s doing something you truly would hate her for. She’s just…bringing to the surface what already exists. Hurrying along the blossoming of a flower by nurturing and nourishing it correctly. 

You’ll be blooming for her in no time. 

You likely already are. 

Elain tugs the fullness of her lower lip between her teeth at the thought. 

She’s no stranger to these mental images, and has grown rather comfortable with them over the years. But she’s tired of having to fight them off, of feeling the slightest ounce of shame in her heart when she’s failed, and has had to look you in the eyes the next morning, knowing yours are the eyes she came to. Your nose, your mouth, your features she’d pictured…your scent she’d tried to imagine…your sex she’d…

Elain shakes her head, raising from the gardening bed. Inside you’re probably melting like a toffee left in the summer’s sun, dripping sticky sweetness for her plunge her tongue into. All she needs to do now is to stop by the washroom to clean her hands, then she can go see how your body is reacting to the sweet ambrosia plant she’d been carefully nurturing these past few months. Reacting to the sun dried leaves she’d crushed up to make a tea out of. 

She can practically taste you already. 

————

You hadn’t realised how far you’d spiral when you’d started. 

Hadn’t realised how deeply the heat would numb your mind when you’d fumbled your way to the sofa on shaky legs, and laid yourself across its plush length.

Hadn’t realised how exposed you would be when you���d rolled onto your side, plucking a cushion up, and shyly placing it between your thighs, starting off with small rolls of your hips before your movements became more languid. 

Now your hair is messy, silky locks having separated from your up-do, baby strands curling at your temples and the nape of your neck. A few more pearly buttons have been popped out, leaving you in the thin white vest you’d donned this morning beneath your dress, and your skirts have pooled around your waist. 

Still you’re too hot, feeling the dampness that’s gathered along your spine, the slight perspiration between and beneath the swell of your breasts and you could cry from the discomfort. If you could only remove your clothes entirely, then maybe you’d feel an ounce of relief…but what if Elain finds you? A fresh wave of heat splashes over you, and you think a moan slips out, burying your face in the pillow you’re resting on. You need to take your clothes off…you’re going to overheat if you keep like this… 

With trembling fingers and weakened muscles you manage to sit up enough to tug the material from your body, the skirts further mussing your hair as they caress over your shoulders. As soon as you can you’re flopping back into the cushioning, panting as you reposition the pillow between your thighs, shifting so the seam is pressing flush with your heat…but your underwear is still in the way…

You whine faintly.

You just want relief…

“Are you—…” 

Your half-lidded gaze meets a fully dilated set of cocoa, a deep, apricot flush on her sugar-powdered cheeks. 

Fresh heat licks across your skin, a soft moan dragging from your lips as your body melts over the sofa. Heavy pants spill from your mouth as you gaze at her, lids fluttering faintly in your attempts to keep watching her. Elain would be perfect…the perfect shape, the perfect feel, the perfect heat to soothe your own… Elain can fix this. 

“E…Elain…” you call out, trying to push yourself up into a sitting position, keeping the pillow flush between your thighs. “Elain…please…” 

Her mouth opens as if to speak, but she can’t find her words, her feet tipping into motion as she’s carried silently across the floor until she’s reached you. “What…—” But you cut her off when you reach for her, fingers linking with her own pristine set, squeezing her lightly. “Elain,” you cry softly, “please… Please, I need…” 

You watch a little fearfully as her lips tug up at the corners, her eyes still wide with infatuation, transfixed on the lithe motions of your form, the way your hips glide over the cushion in attempts to feel some kind of friction. 

“What do you want?” She asks lowly, hunger in her usually sweet eyes, and you could cry. You are crying. “You…!” You beg softly, gripping her tighter, “you, Elain. Please!” She hums with faint amusement, settling lower to the floor so you’re at eye level. “How?” She asks gently, watching you with a leisure that’s not at all appropriate for the undercurrent of energy that’s simmering beneath your skin.

“Hotly. Messily,” you plead, trying to pull her closer, “immediately.”

“Hmm? But we aren’t lovers?” She points out, still smiling faintly, hungry warmth curving her full mouth. Full, berry-coloured lips that you bet would taste far better than any of the tarts on the counter. You don’t know how to respond to that other than with a desperate, pleading look, squeezing her hand beseechingly, inclining your head to shyly offer your mouth. 

Her eyes twinkle, and your heart flutters as she leans forward, dark golden ringlets of hair teasingly brushing against your unfairly sensitive collar bones, lips grazing your own. “What do you want?” She repeats softly, quieter than a breath, able to feel each syllable over your mouth. “Elain,” you answer in return, fingers trembling, so close to getting what you need. 

You feel the flutter of her lashes against your cheek, the ticklish fan of breath across your lips as she laughs softly, before gently setting her mouth atop your own. 

A hot tear escapes down your cheek, hips winding over the soft cushion as she rests over you, and you shyly press back, curving up into her as you incline your chin, heart fluttering in your chest wildly at the intimacy. 

“You want some more, don’t you?” She asks when she’s pulled away, and you nod desperately, more than a little out of it, with the flush that’s heating your body, the arousal that’s softening your limbs. “Alright,” she murmurs, still with that strangely wicked smile on her lovely lips, “but keep still.” 

You whine when she pulls away, then shut up when she begins disrobing herself, leaving her bare save for the underwear clinging to her hips, perfectly matching your own state of undress. “What do you think?” She asks lightly, both her arms pulled back from her chest, hands likely wrapped together at her back, allowing you to take her in. Your eyes nearly roll, needing her to put her body on you now, needing to kiss her again, to touch her and taste her. “Let me taste you…” you beg without thinking, causing her flush to deepen, parting the stance of her delicate feet ever so slightly. 

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” she replies softly, undeniable arousal rolling from her body, perfuming the room with a scent like vanilla, but slightly muskier, slightly heavier. It smells delicious. Like something you’d delight in having in your mouth. 

Elain smiles at your dazed expression, before dipping her fingers slowly beneath the band of her underwear, liking how your hips take on a more urgent wind over the pillow, still so desperate as the tea works its properties into your bloodstream, short-circuiting your mind to bring out your basest desires. 

“You want a taste?” Elain recalls, and you whine when you pick up the wet noises coming from between her thighs, how her arousal becomes more concentrated, and you nod your head. “Please, Elain,” you moan breathlessly, “come closer…” 

“I’ll come where I like,” she replies, making your spine arch.

“Please,” you beg, “come over here.” 

It seems she finally takes pity on you, slowly making her way over to you. Your eyes flutter lightly when her fingertips brush hair from your face, the ones with her arousal on brushing teasingly across your lips, and you part them needfully for her. Tipping upward into her touch, so, so, desperate for more. Elain reads that in your expression, and smiles. “If I let you have a taste,” she murmurs, fingers pressing a little closer to your mouth, so close to slipping inside, “you think it might be nice if you stayed?” 

You nod dimly, staring up at her pretty, cocoa-coloured eyes. 

“Answer me, sweet pea,” she instructs.

“I’ll stay,” you whisper back. 

Elain smiles fully, and the moment feels so right it’s almost enough to take you out of the haze. But then she’s carefully swinging a leg over you, her lovely back turned so she can peer down your body, and for the first time that evening you’re aware of your mouth watering. “I knew you’d come round to it,” she says breathlessly, her thighs trembling slightly with adrenaline and anticipation. After all this time she’s so close to having you—it’ll no longer be restricted to her dreams, or her fantasies. “You’re being such a good girl for me.” 

“Elain,” you beg, lips feeling numb and tingly, just so desperate to be entirely swept away by her fragrance, her feel, her flavour. “Elain, please…” you breathe, staring longingly between her parted thighs, able to arrange just how well she’ll fit over your face. 

“Alright, sweet thing,” she murmurs, fingers tracing across your stomach, feeling across the soft expanse as if she’s studying new land under her jurisdiction, brushing the band of your underwear. “Since you asked so nicely.” 

Thoughts and words are obliterated away as she settles over you, the heat of her soft skin feeling so right and familiar, and your eyes slide shut in pleasure. In a far away part of your conscious, your body raises its hands to slide over her thighs, slinking over her hips to pull her flush to your mouth, able to feel the dampness of the fabric against your nose and lips, and—Gods she’s perfect. 

Elain’s fingertips teasingly trace over your abdomen, watching how tiny muscles flutter and contract beneath her ticklish touch, gently prying the pillow away from between your thighs to make room for her own hands. She swallows heavily, spine curving as she experimentally shifts her hips over you, revelling in the press of your mouth and nose against her heat. 

“Open your mouth,” she breathes, fingers trembling as they push your underwear away, licking her lips as she spots the gleaming threads of slick that are webbing between the wet fabric and your wetter cunt. You don’t respond, and she blinks, shifting her hips to glance over her shoulder—your eyes are closed, and she can feel the heat radiating from your body, the absolutely blissed out expression on your features. Her heart fumbles, and she decides to let you enjoy yourself for the moment—her pleasure is secondary to your own. 

“That’s it, sweet girl,” she says instead, palm cupping your bare heat, feeling your hips buck into her hand at the promise of stimulation. “Lay back and enjoy it,” she goads, running her fingers over your cunt, pressing lightly at your clit, feeling how a pulse of pleasure passes through you at the light touch alone. “So lovely and wet—is this all for me?” 

A shiver of pure pleasure drips down her spine at the deluded moan you breathe onto her cunt, thighs parting as she languidly rolls her hips over you, shuddering with blissful exuberance at the feel of your mouth and nose pressing so delightfully against her. Enough so that she raises them just enough to vanish the fabric away, before gently reseating herself atop of you, taking a moment to bask in the intimate feel. The strangely territorial feel as she winds her hips, knowing your nose, lips, and chin will be gleaming with her arousal. Hers. 

Biting her lip, she spreads your legs wider, rolling the pads of her fingers over your clit carefully, guessing how sensitive the ambrosia plant tea will have made you. And she’s completely right. Rewarded with a lovely whimper that causes her skin to prickle, storing away the small noise and already thinking what she can do to make you repeat it. 

“Do that again,” she asks, fingers running down over your wet cunt, light and teasing in her touch, tauntingly circling your entrance, feeling as you try to suction her deeper, tightening around nothing. You release a whine, and Elain smiles faintly, cupping one of her breasts as she thumbs across the peak, soothing their sensitivity as her head tips back from the relief. “That’s it,” she encourages, “all you need to do is keep making those sounds for me okay? Keep telling me what you like, how you’re feeling. Don’t try to hide them from me.” 

You moan loudly when her fingers sink inside of you, two gently plying you apart, pumping and curling while the heel of her palm glides across your gleaming clit, hips bucking needfully up into her hand as your arousal begins to be satiated. “Elain…” you moan without reason, simply unable to think of any other noise to make as her heavenly scent filters into your lungs, spreads through your body, following your instincts to open your mouth, and lick. 

Elain’s spine curves, a moan spilling from her lips as you softly apply yourself, tongue flattening over her clit, swiping up through her centre to kiss at her entrance, feeling dizzy from the eroticism of laying your mouth over such an intimate part of her. Feeling her coat your mouth like a lip gloss. You’d wear her every chance you could get. 

“That’s it…” she moans, fingers rubbing against a spot inside of you, and your arms coil over her pretty hips, pulling her flush against your face, making out with her pussy to hear more of those sounds, taste more of her flavour, have more of her coating you like she owns you. 

Elain sighs contentedly, hips rocking over your mouth before she’s dipping down, and you cry out onto her when her tongue swipes across your clit, thighs shaking with the sensitivity—how she licks through your centre, circling and suckling the apex of your thighs while her fingers are working you so well. The pressure she’s creating around your clit, her scent in your lungs and her taste in your mouth, the hot, feminine weight of her over your lips partnered with the delightfully full press of her fingers, how they curl against spots even you hadn’t know you had, her tongue licking at your clit, saliva mixing with your slick…so messy… 

You cry out as you come, and Elain gasps as you squirt, surprised as the liquid arcs from your pretty cunt. Her lips part on the surprised inhale, before she’s being driven by hunger, sealing her mouth over you entirely, tasting as much of you as she can, working her wonderfully wicked tongue to draw out your orgasm, the orgasm that belongs to her.

She feels it as she’s tipped over the edge, at last pulling away from your overstimulated cunt to spread her thighs wider and grind over your mouth, dragging her clit over the hot swell of your tongue, her eyelids fluttering with pleasure and all she can think about is getting to turn around and put her mouth over your own. Which is exactly what she does, before the aftershocks have even completely faded, tasting herself on your lips and tongue, flicking against the roof of your mouth as she presses her body closer to you, thigh now pressing between your own, feeling a strange sense of pride as you grind against her, wanting more so desperately. 

Elain can tell from your scent alone you’ll be needing much more than just one orgasm to get you past the herbal-induced heatwave she’s subjected you to. 

And she’s more than delighted to help you see each and every wave through to the end. 

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

[w2soneshots]

Best man -W2S

Words: 0.4k+

Warnings: none.

Summary: Chris has been your friend for years. When you and Harry become engaged, he asks Chris to be his best man.

a/n: hi my loves! Here’s the request. This is short and sweet but I hope you enjoy!!😚🤍🫶🏼

Liked by wroetoshaw, taliamar and 512,890 others

y/username: beer, beer and more beer

-comments-

chrismd: bit over dressed mate?

-> y/username: you sowed up in sweatpants so stfu😙

faithloisak: pretty girl💘

y/nfanpage21: you look beautiful!!

user67103957: she's always feeding us with the best Harry pics🤤

I've been friends with Chris for years. Me, Harry and him used to film football videos together, when we were younger. Chris had always rooted for me and Harry to get together so when we told him that we had started dating he was ecstatic. That was four years ago. And since then me and Harry have been happily in love.

Harry and I had talked about marriage and I could tell he wasn't ready and he actually told me he wanted to wait quite a few years. I was slightly upset but decided to brush it under the rug, for now. Little did I know he had already brought me an engagement ring and was planning to pop the big question two weeks later.

When he asked me to marry him I was completely and utterly stunned. Obviously I said yes. It was a private proposal, in one of our most favourite spots; the beach. It was freezing, very windy and we were both shivering but it was perfect. I was on a high that entire day and couldn't wait to tell everyone. Harry had confided in Chris for advice well before he brought the ring so he already knew.

It's been four months since our engagement and today we're asking Chris to be Harry's best man. I already asked Talia to be my maid of honour and she was so excited. We decided not to do anything fancy and to just have a conversation with him. We got ready and then headed to the bar we'd agreed to meet at.

"Hey! How are you?" Chris asked me as we shared a hug. "Great." I smiled as I took a seat. He said hello to Harry then we ordered some drinks. We casually chatted about our weeks then me and Harry shared a look. "Go on then." I smiled. Chris' brows furrowed. "Everything okay?" He asked. "Yeah mate. I just need to ask you something." Harry said. Chris nodded his head forward, insinuating for Harry to continue. "Would you be my best man?" Chris jumped from his seat. Me and Harry chuckled. "Really! Yes I'd love to!" He pulled Harry into a tight hug. I smiled, watching my two favourite boys.

[bitethedevil]

Imagine if Raphael was on the Material Plane in human form when he happens to cross paths with his little mouse (who he is infatuated with) and then, for one reason or another, someone mistakenly assumes that Tav is his spouse and refers to Tav as such ("Oh, apologizes, sir! I didn't realize your spouse would be joining you!"). How do you think he'd react? Do you think he'd go deer in headlights for a second? Would he just roll with it? Would he clear up the confusion?

(I deviated a bit from this ask. Just felt like writing a silly little thing. This one is just Raphael being his dramatic self and a complete ass to Tav lmao. Idk I really had fun with this one but it's not super romantic or anything. It's also not super edited)

Let's Get Divorced (Raphael x Tav)

Tav was in a bar, drinking with the most sweet and handsome man she had ever seen. He was kind, he was interested in her, and he had the cutest smile. It had been a little while since she had last been with someone, so she had high hopes that she would end up in this handsome stranger’s bed later.

Defeating the Netherbrain and getting rid of her tadpole had really done something to her libido. It is as if her brain was still craving that excitement that only multiple near-death experiences can bring a person, and now it was compensating for it by being constantly horny.

She managed to steal a little kiss from the cute man she was drinking with, and she felt her heart beating a little faster. She had him. She was sure of it. She would finally be able to release all that pent up sexual frustration she had.

She went up to the bar to get more drinks and to cool down for a short moment. Her blood was pumping from the kiss. That is when she heard an all too recognizable voice behind her:

“A moment of your time, if you would be so kind, mouse.”

Her heart fell and she turned around. He was looking just as disgruntled as the last time he sought her out and asked her for the Crown. She kept finding excuses for not delivering it to him, even though she had signed his contract. She was way too drunk to have this conversation with Raphael.

“Please,” she said. “Not tonight…”

“Not tonight, not last week, not a month ago,” he said annoyed. “I am running out of patience, dear.”

“And I’m sorry, I’ve been busy…” she said. “I obviously don’t have it on me right now. Just please…not tonight.”

“Busy, are you?” Raphael asked with a sneer. “And what is it that you are so terribly busy with this evening?”

“Uuuh…” Tav said and tried to think of an answer that was not ‘getting laid’, but her mind was not her friend at the moment, and she came up blank.

“That’s what I thought,” Raphael said. “You will take me to it, and you will personally hand it to me, tonight. I am not leaving before I have the Crown of Karsus in my hands.”

“Tomorrow, please,” she pleaded. “Come by tomorrow, and I promise you that I will give it to you.”

Her eyes quickly went to the man she had been talking to and she could see that he was staring at the two of them.

“Please, Raphael,” she said again.

Raphael slowly turned at looked at who she was looking at, before turning back to her.

“Is that what you are so occupied with?” Raphael asked her. “Chasing boys?”

“No…” she said.

Raphael gave her a look.

“Yes…” she admitted. “So what? Look, I promise I will hand you the Crown tomorrow. I will even place it on your head for you, just…let me have tonight…please.”

“You make me come to this disgusting establishment, you waste my time, you find excuse after excuse…” Raphael hissed at her. “I will not abide it, little mouse.”

“’Little mouse’?” she heard a voice behind Raphael ask. “Is he your husband or something?”

Her eyes widened slightly. Raphael’s anger disappeared the moment he heard the voice behind him, and a cruel smile spread across his face as he looked into Tav’s eyes.

“He is,” Raphael said smoothly and turned around to face the man she had been talking to. He put an arm around her waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him. “And you are?”

The man’s eyes went back and forth from Tav to Raphael in confusion. Tav was just as confused as to what just happened. She laughed nervously.

“Oh, he’s not…” she explained and pointed at Raphael. “I’m not married.”

“This again, my love?” Raphael asked her with feigned hurt and then looked at the man to address him. “She claims that she does not get enough attention at home, my little mouse.”

“Hahaaa, very funny. I have no idea what—” she said but was interrupted by Raphael, as his arm tightened around her waist.

“It is not the first time I have had to collect her from one of the city’s taverns, of course,” Raphael said with a dramatic sigh. “She keeps throwing herself at the patrons, you see. She can get quite unpleasant when she drinks too much.”

“He is not my husband!” Tav said to the man and tried to pry Raphael’s grip off her waist.

“I…I’m sorry, sir,” the man said to Raphael. “She never told me she was married.”

“I’m not!” she said loudly, still trying to squirm out of Raphael’s grip.

“Oh, that does sound like her,” Raphael said and punctuated it with a patronizing tap on her nose, still effortlessly holding her, despite her putting in her full strength in to get out of his grasp. “She has always been inclined to forget her obligations, isn’t that right, dearest?”

She looked the poor, sweet man who looked so confused and sad at the revelation. The whole situation was extremely awkward.

“Raphael, I will get you the damn…thing…” she said through gritted teeth, looking Raphael in the eyes. “Tell him that we are not married!”

“You say such hurtful things when you drink, my love,” Raphael said. She could see that he was fully enjoying this.

“Again, I am truly sorry for this misunderstanding,” the man said. “I will just…go…”

“No, no, don’t go. He is not my husband. He is a literal devil!” she said to him.

“She likes to exaggerate, don’t you, dear? Come, let us go home,” Raphael said to her as if he was dealing with an insane person and started dragging her out of the bar.

“But—” she said and took one last glance at the man as she was being pulled away.

Raphael only let go of her once they were outside the bar.

“It seems that your oh-so-busy schedule has been cleared,” Raphael said with a smile. “Now, take me to it.”

“There is no way that I would ever have married you of all people, just to make that clear,” Tav grumbled, slightly slurring. “Even the idea of it is offensive.”

“Oh, you wound me,” Raphael said with a cold expression. “Although, much like a marriage, we are bound together unless you fulfill your part of the deal. Of course, with us it is less of a ‘till death do us part’ arrangement and more of a… ‘when your death do us unite’ sort of thing. Let me remind you that I still have a contract, with your signature on it, that promises me your soul if you do not hand me the crown. As things currently stand, I own you, little mouse.”

Tav sighed deeply.

“Let’s go get fucking divorced then, I guess,” she drunkenly mumbled and turned to walk towards the direction of her house, to go get the crown for him, so that her part of the deal was fulfilled.

Raphael mood seemed to brighten at her surrender, and he offered her his arm to take as they started walking towards her home. Tav linked arms with him not to stumble.

She was moping about the fact that Raphael had ruined her chances at going home with someone. It was as if Raphael had read her mind.

“Before we do, I want to express how grateful I am that you finally came to your senses,” Raphael purred. “I am not without generosity for those who help me, and you clearly had a goal in mind for tonight. I would be a neglectful husband to leave my little mouse wanting, would I not?”

Tav’s brow furrowed as she looked at him. He smirked at her. Her eyes widened in realization.

…Oh?

[mickandmusings]

ii. crash my party

part two of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: when his original plans to bring honey to homecoming fall flat, jake thinks he's secured a fail-safe plan for honey to still have the night she deserves. when that too comes crumbling to pieces, jake, like always, is there to patch it back up. because jake is always the one to take care of her. they knew everything about each other...right?

word count: 5.6k

warnings: angsty -> fluffy, shitty homecoming dates, unbearable tension, i'm aware jake would only have a learner's permit but we don't follow the laws in small towns

-

It had started with one simple conversation.

"Jake, humor me," she'd started, finally closing her hardback book, looking up at him from across the table they'd been sharing in the school cafeteria. "A school dance? What part of that seems like a place I'd want to spend my Saturday?"

Jake smiled. "Hm, because I'll be there."

He gave her a shit-eating grin before shoveling fries into his mouth. Honey had rolled her eyes, forcing herself not to break into a grin as well. She stole a fry from his tray and swallowed before shaking her head and giving her retort.

"You're going to be there with Katie, and I highly doubt she'd want me hangin' around all night. She's like, majorly in love with you. I'm not going to be your third wheel, people already think I'm weird because I'm always taggin' along with you. I don't need to give them more fuel for the fire."

Ignoring the jab Honey gave herself, Jake tried to think of another approach. He hadn't wanted to go to this dance with Katie at all. He internally scolded himself-Katie was a sweet girl, pretty too, but as Honey had mentioned, Katie was in love with Jake. He just simply didn't feel the same. Suddenly, as if a light bulb had flickered above his head, Jake perked up.

"What if someone asks you to homecoming? Would you double date with me?"

Honey cut her eyes to his forest-green ones, looking away briefly before chewing on her bottom lip. She looked down at her hands, twisting the garnet ring adorning her right ring finger.

"That's sweet, Jake, but you and I both know that won't happen." She pauses, placing the ring back in position. "But, metaphorically speaking, if some random guy decided it wouldn't be social suicide to go with me, then, yeah, I'd double date."

Honey could feel the blush rising to her cheeks, she was positive Jake was the only guy in the entire school that had ever talked to her, much less look at her in any romantic nature.

Her confirmation was all Jake had needed, and he was already on a mission that he was sure he'd succeed in. As the lunch bell rang and he parted ways with Honey, he put his plan into action. Sitting in his fifth period Biology class, he turned to the seat behind him, a good-natured smile on his face. Hayden Wright, Jake's football teammate and friend, stared back at him. The teenage boy raised an eyebrow and gave Jake a look.

"What do you want, Seresin? You've got that stupid look on your face."

Jake scoffed, "First off, fuck you. Second, I've come to cash in my favor, Wright."

Jake had done Hayden a solid nearly a month ago, helping him in cleaning up his family's trashed barn from one of their post-game parties (to save him an ass-whooping from his father), and Hayden had agreed to owing Jake one, he'd just never thought Jake would actually ask him for one.

"What'd ya want?" Hayden's face had been neutral, figuring Jake wanted him to put in a good word with one of the cheerleaders, or to get Hayden's older brother to buy him alcohol.

"You know my friend, Honey?"

Hayden's eyebrow raised at Jake's word.

"The one that sits with you at lunch? I mean, yeah I know of her, why?"

"You're going to take her to homecoming." Jake said the statement plainly, so there would be no question.

Hayden audibly laughed. "Good one, Jake."

"I'm not joking, Wright," Jake's voice had taken a different tone. There was no more lighthearted humor to it, only a sense of seriousness. "I was already planning to take her, but Katie asked me before I could ask Honey myself. The only way she'll go is if she thinks she's not someone's tag-along. I'm not asking you to wine and dine her, asshole, I'm asking you to pick her up, give her a corsage, just-just fuckin' talk to her. Treat her like you would anyone else. She's not going to fall in love with you because you gave her an ounce of your precious attention. You owe me, man."

"Seresin, I already planned on asking Sam Van-"

"Be real, Wright," Jake's eyes were sharp, now daggers. "No shot in hell Sam Vance is going to say yes to you. Honestly, in my opinion, Honey is too good for you, way too good for you, but I'm desperate at this point. You'll ask her-in person-today, after practice. You'll ride with me and Katie, wear a nice suit and bring a corsage. She likes magnolias." Jake's statement left no room for leeway. It was set in stone, Hayden would ask her, be there with bells on, or else. Even as an underclassmen, Jake was easily on the taller side of his teammates, with the muscle to match-his daily farmwork had aided him in that department. Combined with his family's influence, you simply didn't want to be on his bad side.

Hayden sighs, his face drawn in a tight line.

"Fine, but consider my debt paid indefinitely, won't pull this shit again. If I'm going to have to take this girl, what the fuck am I supposed to talk to her about? I don't know the first thing about 'er."

Jake chuckles.

"Lucky for you, she's not much of a talker. Won't be to you, anyways. She likes to read, a lot. Ask her about literally any book. She's funny, just talk about whatever, she'll find a way to make you laugh. Just because she's not a cheerleader doesn't mean she isn't worth your time. Just for once in your life, just one night, don't be a dickhead."

-

Honey had been foolishly naive in thinking someone like Hayden Wright would actually be interested in someone like her. She'd felt the sinking feeling enter her chest the day he'd asked her to go to homecoming with him, starting small at first, but growing large enough to fill her anxiety-ridden torso. She'd felt the feeling lingering in her gut when she'd tried on and bought the flowing white dress that adorned her frame. She'd swallowed it down, buried it deep, told her internal insecurities that maybe, for once in her life, something good would happen to her. When that looming feeling had festered forward again that afternoon, as she meticulously curled her hair in Jake's bathroom, she had plastered on a smile and kept going, telling herself it was only a feeling.

But now, as she sat horribly mistaken on the steps of the Seresin farmhouse, she no longer stomached the feeling. Hayden was supposed to be here over an hour and half ago, and he had yet to show. Honey knew he wouldn’t, she’d expected it. She swallowed thickly and looked on as the sun made Katie look radiant in a way Honey knew she would never be-girls like Honey simply didn't shine like that. She let that aching feeling fester forward as she watched Katie laugh next to Jake in front of Janet's rosebushes, tears lining her lashes. The ridiculous eye makeup she'd spent an hour on had gone to waste, along with the heels she'd splurged on. She had almost unbuckled them and tossed them to the side when Janet's voice sounded.

"Honey, sweetheart, c'mon over, I want some pictures of you and Jake."

Honey had smiled and wiped her eyes, standing as tall as she could next to Jake in front of the Seresin's towering magnolia tree. She'd painted on her best smile, avoiding Jake's gaze that was staring holes into the side of her head. He hadn't said anything, and she didn't expect him to. Just because her night turned out to be miserable didn't mean his had to. He and Katie would go to the dance, and she'd stay with Seresin's, probably watch westerns with Jacob Sr. until he fell asleep in his recliner, then she'd take herself up to Jake's room and read until he came back. Maybe she'd just go home, despite hating being there because of the loneliness, so she wasn't a bother to anyone at all. The Seresin family was too kind to her, and she'd never want to overstay her welcome.

"Well, it's a quarter til', you young folk should be headin' along," Jacob Sr.'s voice sounded. Honey smiled as Katie hung off of Jake's arm, and Honey turned back towards the porch of the house, sitting back down on the stairs and started to unbuckle her shoes. Jacob Sr.'s eyes cut to her frame, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Honey, what are you doin', girl? Not too sure on the dress code at this function, but I imagine shoes are required."

Jake's eyes looked at the figure of his best friend sitting on his grandparents' porch, and a feeling he had never felt seeped completely down to his bones. He hadn't even bothered to take her in completely since she'd gotten dressed, too focused on getting himself ready. Honey was dazzling as the sunset framed her figure. The color of her dress brought out her skin, and her hair had been styled lightly, but just enough to frame her face. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. But when he finally braved looking into her eyes, his heart ached. Sadness pooled behind her irises, water forming in her waterline. Her smile contradicted all of the feelings he knew were stirring inside of her, and every cell in his body wanted to shed his dress clothes, pile into his truck and hunt Hayden Wright down to beat the shit out of him.

"Oh, um," Honey started, as if she couldn't find the words to say. "My date isn't comin', I-I don't think I'll go. I'm just gonna go home." She smiled a smile that would appear unbothered by anyone else, but Jake knew that smile. It was entirely fake, an action to keep herself from bursting into tears. She was often so quiet and so good at saving face that it was hard to see her suffering, but Jake saw through her completely, he knew her 'strong' look. Jake jumps into action, without even thinking of how it may make the girl on his arm feel.

"Not a chance, Honey," Jake started, walking across the yard. "Just because Hayden is a jerk, doesn't mean you don't deserve to go. You look beautiful, can't let that go to waste. C'mon, you can hang out with us."

He sticks a hand out and looks down at her. She sighs heavily, taking it, and Jake feels his skin light up. His hairs stand on end, and after all these years, he notices every color in Honey's eyes. He notes the curves of her cheeks, the beauty of her entire figure. He finds himself feeling an overwhelming urge to press his lips into hers. How had he never seen her before? She had spent half of their lives by his side. She knew everything about him, from his favorite foods to the things that kept him up at night. Jake's eyes dart between her own as his heart races in his chest. Jake Seresin was in love with his best friend- head over heels, jumping into the deep end, full force in love. He stands stock still, her hand on his own, for a moment too long.

"Well, we're going to be late if we don't come on." Honey's voice is small, not quiet like usual, but small. She tears her hand away as she makes it down the stairs, giving Katie a curt smile as Katie's arm links around Jake's. He helps Katie into his passenger side, feeling a bit odd that Honey wouldn't be just to his right. Honey climbs into the backseat, her bottom lip tucked in-between her teeth, hands mindlessly rotating the rings on her hands. As Katie chatted animatedly in the truck, Honey only smiled politely, speaking when only necessary. She was utterly miserable, and Jake could see it. It was written across her face so plainly. For most of the night, that look never left her face.

Loud music, the sounds of their classmates yelling at one another to talk, and flashing lights filled the small high school gym, a basketball court full of underclassmen couples swaying to a song Honey didn't recognize. She was wishing she'd brought her current read with her, not that she'd be able to see it in the dark room. Instead, she sat in her metal folding chair at the table Jake and his friends had claimed, watching all the other girls' shoes and purses. As she looked out at the group, she couldn't quell the hurt in her heart that she'd tried swallowing down a million times that night. Katie threw her head back laughing at something Jake had said, though Jake didn't look nearly as amused as her. Her eyes focused on Katie alone-she danced barefoot in front of Jake, her turquoise colored dress shimmering under the lights. She wore a wide smile, one that lit up her whole face. Honey burned with envy. Of course that was the type of girl Jake went to dances with. Katie practically glowed-everyone loved her. The type of girl that guys would never stand up, the girl that guys stopped and stared when she walked by. And no matter how Honey yearned and prayed at night, begging to God to be that kind of girl-the girl that lights up a room, one that makes everyone's head turn-she would never be that. She'd always be bookish, timid, she shook with nerves when she had to give presentations in class, much less in a room full of her entire student body. Without much further thought, she suddenly realized it wasn't the fact she wanted to be loved by everyone, she just wanted to be the kind of girl Jake loved. Jake would never see her as anything more than a sort of quasi-sister, someone to give him advice on how to treat another type of girl right. Even without malice, Jake would hurt her too, and she knew it would leave her empty. Honey felt a tear slip down her face, she hadn't even realized she was crying. She wiped it away hastily, refusing to be the rejected girl that cried at a school dance. She might be a loser, but she wouldn't become a cliche. She found herself picking at the skin around her nails, biting her bottom lip, trying to distract herself from the oncoming round of tears pushing through her eyes.

Back on the dance floor, Jake let out a breath as Katie ran off to dance with some of her girlfriends. The girl was sweet, but he could hardly keep his mind focused on anything but the girl sitting at the table he'd left twenty minutes ago. He'd thought about just dropping Katie off and turning around to take Honey home, but his grandparents would've never let him hear the end of that. Instead he watched from the dance floor as Honey became more and more drawn in on herself. He clocked her fidgeting first-the once pristine white polish on her nails now chipped, her bottom lip red and peeling. Her shoulders were slumped and she hadn't smiled once since they'd arrived. He knew she was trying to let Hayden's rejection roll off her shoulders, he knew she would've already expected it, but when it actually happened, it left her devastated. Not that she cared much about Hayden, but her years worth of abandonment had flared. She was reeling in her own mind, and in a room like this, there were no distractions, no book to escape to, so she simply sat and drowned.

Jake plopped down in the chair next to her, his feet aching in his new dress shoes. The air was thick, and even knowing Honey so well, he wasn't sure how to comfort her. He simply went on instinct. His voice had a rough edge as he shouted over the music.

"You wanna dance?"

They'd danced before, a thousand different times. They'd dance to old country songs as kids, in the barn on the Seresin farm. They'd danced to the radio in his grandparents' kitchen, just friendly dances. It wouldn't be any different, right?

"No."

Jake's head whipped to her. She was never short with him, always layering her rejection softly. Jake didn't think too much about it, she was already feeling vulnerable.

"You sure, Hon? You love this song."

He wasn't wrong-she did love this song. It was a country ballad at least a decade old, but she'd loved it anyway.

"I'm fine, Jake. You should dance with Katie."

"Don't want to dance with her, want to dance with you."

Honey bit her lip to keep it from wobbling, shaking her head.

"You don't have to feel sorry for me. I already knew he wouldn't show, I expected it. It's not your fault, you have nothin' to make up for, okay? I'm not going to be the girl you give a slow dance to because she’s a loser who thought someone like Hayden Wright would actually want to go with her. I don’t need that kind of pity, Jake, especially not from you.” Her tone was fiery, but she hadn’t intended to come across as angry towards Jake, he hadn’t done anything, she was just growing tired of being completely visible and simultaneously invisible to him. “I'm sorry-I just, I don't feel much for dancing at the moment."

She swallowed and took a deep breath.

"Then let's get out of here."

Her head now whipped around to Jake.

"No, no. I'll just wait until you and Katie leave, o-or I'll call your Grandma, I'm sure she wouldn't mind coming to get me so you can keep having fun.” She looks out into the crowd and spots Katie moving through the large crowd of the football boys and cheerleader girls. “You're having fun, Jake, with your friends, and just because I'm miserable doesn't mean you have to be."

"I shouldn't have dragged you here, Honey. I convinced you to come, and you're miserable. I should've realized this isn't your scene, and I'm just making it worse. You shouldn't have to sit here and be miserable and watch as everyone else has a good time. That's like some sick form of torture."

Honey wanted to scream, to grab him by the shoulders and make him realize that she lived it every single day, she was always watching from the sidelines as everyone else lived. It wasn't any different now that she was in an uncomfortable dress in a cold metal chair.

Honey musters a smile and turns to face the boy who held her heart in his hands. Jake couldn’t pull his eyes away as the white satin dress adorned her freckled skin, falling perfectly on her curves. "Jake, look, Katie is out there and she's beautiful and she adores you, and she's been nothing but kind to me, even for being her date's weird third wheel. My night is already miserable, hers doesn't have to be. She deserves to have the night she dreamed of. I sort of already imagined my night to look this way, so, not that big of a disappointment, really."

She swallowed thickly, her vision blurring with the tears she couldn't keep pushing down. Jake blinked, crouching across to rest his elbows on his knees to turn himself closer to her. He caught her eyes, but she couldn’t meet his, afraid of the sympathy she’d find in them.

"Honey, how clueless do you think I am? You say that, that you already knew you’d be disappointed, but I watched you. I sat on the tub while you got ready, and I've seen that look before, the same look you get when somethin’ unexpected happens in your book, or a stupid meet-cute moment on a movie. You’re not some mutant, you may not care about the stupid social part of a school dance, but you were excited, Hon. I’m sorry he put out your fire, believe me I want nothin’ more than to take him behind the barn.” Honey now braves a glance at him, and finds herself staring at a pair of warm green eyes. No sympathy, no pity, just Jake. “You say you're fine with disappointment, but you're not Wonder Woman, darlin'. You're human, and no one can take that amount of sadness without breaking. You suffer in silence because you think no one cares about your happiness, but, Honey, I care. You deserve your own happy night. So please for the love of God, let me get you out of here, we'll do whatever you want. I can't sit and watch you suffer."

Honey shook her head.

"As wonderful as that sounds, Jake, I won't do that to another girl. It's not fair to Katie for you to just leave her here. It's already-"

"I don't think we'll have that to worry about." Jake points to the general direction of a crowd of people, where Katie is laughing as she hangs off the arm of another member of the football team. "I don't think Katie's 'obsessed' with me, I think it's more of anyone who wears the jersey."

Honey shook her head silently, looking up at Jake. His arm was stuck out for her to take, and she gave him a small but genuine smile. Her head rested on his bicep as they walked through the parking lot. As he opened her door and let her in, she almost let herself imagine that she was the girl he’d asked, that he’d decided the dance was lame, and they’d have more fun doing something else. She shut down those thoughts, knowing they’d only disappoint her later when he showed up with another pretty girl at his side. She let the thought float away as the high school faded in the rearview mirror, Jake’s country music filling the cab of the truck.

“What’d you wanna do, Hon? It’s kind of late, everything’s probably closed, but we could swing into Greenville, catch a fast food place.”

Honey shivered, Greenville was nearly twenty minutes out, and she was already itching to get out of this dress and into bed.

“Uh, don’t think I’m cuttin’ you short, J, I just, I really want to get out of this dress, and I want to shower. I-I think I just want to go to bed. I told you not to leave, your night is gonna be-“

Jake’s clouded mind filled with a particularly lewd thought as she spoke about getting out of her dress, one he shoved down quickly.

“My night’s gonna be just fine, because you’ll be in bed and not in that gym miserable.”

Honey simply smiled and continued to watch their small town pass by out her window. It wasn’t long until Jake parked in her driveway, her heart heavy. She stared at the dark house, the empty garage, and the feeling of emptiness she knew she’d find. She smiled half-heartedly as she turned to Jake. He smiled back as he cut the truck off and crawled out of his seat, opening her door and helping her out. He walked her up the steps and to her front door, they looked at each other in the darkness of night, illuminated only by the moonlight.

“Thanks, seriously, Jake, for everything. You’re the best friend I could ask for.”

Her heart cracked at the word ‘friend’, and so did his, not that either of them knew about each other’s feelings.

“No need to thank me, Honey. You can always crash my party.” He winked, looking up at the dark porch light. “Forget to leave the porch light on again?”

Honey shrugged, fetching her house keys from behind a plotted plant. She opened the door to turn the porch light on, and when she flicked the switch, nothing came on. Her eyebrows furrowed, trying the switch for the living room light, and nothing. She shakes her head, her shoulders slumping.

“That’s just rich,” she mumbles under her breath.

“What’s up? Light bulb blow?” Jake’s mind wandered aloud.

“No, uh,” Honey flushed red, feeling embarrassed. “My mother didn’t pay the light company, again. S-She forgets about this place sometimes. I’ll just call her tomorrow, it’s fine. I’ll see you Monday, Jake.”

Jake pauses, placing his palm on the front door she was trying to hastily shut. He takes in her slumped figure, his anger flaring at her neglectful mother.

“Hey, don’t shut me out. You say she forgot again? She’s done this before? Honey I’m not letting you sit down here in the dark, pack a bag, you can stay with us.”

As much as she wanted to protest, as much as her brain said she’d be an imposition at the Seresin’s, her heart was lonely and heavy, and she didn’t want to be alone tonight. She didn’t fight it, only grabbing the flashlight by the door and stomping up the stairs as Jake stood watch. She packed a duffel hastily, throwing in pajamas and casual clothes, and even a set for Monday at school. She never wanted to overstay her welcome, but she would stay as long as the Seresin’s would let her. She hated this house, she hated the empty rooms and she hated her mother. She stomped back down the stairs and locked the door back, sliding back into Jake’s truck and peeling down Seresin Farm Road.

Late that night, with wet hair and Jake’s Dallas Cowboys hoodie over her frame, she sat across from him atop his plaid comforter, snorting and heaving with laughter over Jake’s spot-on impressions of his football coach and teammates. He’s traded his formal wear for basketball shorts and an old rodeo t-shirt, appearing much more like the Jake she felt most comfortable with. For the first time that entire night, she’d felt light, filled with happiness. Hayden Wright never crossed her mind, nor the beautiful girls she held her standards to, not even her elusive mother who Honey felt hated her most. None of it mattered, because she was safe, comfortable, feeling perfectly content enough to curl under Jake’s sheets and fall asleep on his spare pillows. She slept soundly, not feeling Jake’s hands push hair out of her face, or his green eyes unable to look away from her sleeping frame until he too collapsed in sleep. Most importantly, she hadn’t heard Jake’s mumbles of how beautiful she’d looked tonight, things he’d only say when he knew she wasn’t listening. At least for now.

When Janet woke early the next morning, she relaxed seeing Jake’s truck parked in the drive. She stumbled up the stairs to find his bedroom door ajar, a pair of black high-top converse keeping it open. They were Honey’s-she wore them everywhere. Janet’s blue eyes peered into the room illuminated by morning sunshine.

Jake and Honey both slept soundly in Jake’s queen bed, facing one another, none of their limbs touching. To any other parent, this would lead to a sharp lashing and a loud wake-up, but Janet knew her grandson well. He held Honey in such high esteem he’d never try anything of a clandestine romance. Janet loved Honey, and, while never audibly saying it, she silently hoped her boy would open his eyes soon and see the diamond of a girl in front of him. She simply kicked Honey’s shoes out of the way, closing the door to leave them undisturbed.

When the pair woke, nothing had changed. Jake and Honey still sat at the breakfast table like any other weekend, Jake stealing bacon off of Honey’s plate, and Honey stealing strawberries off of his. There was no great fanfare of Honey all but moving into Jake’s room. Janet and Jacob Sr. had no objections when they found out the reasons why. They treated Honey as if she was another Seresin. The only thing that had changed is that Janet no longer had to pick her up for school. So when Honey and Jake walked into school together on Monday, no one seemed to bat an eye. When Hayden Wright walked into the courtyard Monday morning, however, it seemed every single eye was on him, or, more likely, the double black eyes he sported.

Jake had passed off his busted knuckles on some farm work, and Honey had believed him. When she noted that his closest football buddies, Brett and Willie, also had the same markings, she’d passed it off as a football tussle Jake hadn’t wanted to tell her about. Jake had smiled and kept the conversation topic away from Hayden at all costs, which struck Honey as weird, but she chalked it up to Jake’s protective nature. She only started to wonder when Willie turned to her in their shared third period and asked her about the book she’d been reading, or when Brett had caught her attention in the hallway.

“Honey!” The tall boy’s voice had boomed over the crowd of people in the hallway. “What’s up?!” He’d high-fived her as she simply responded with a quiet “nothing much” and headed towards her locker.

When the two boys joined her and Jake at lunch, she’d been nervous at first, as she always was around new people, but quickly fell into a more comfortable state as the weeks passed. Jake’s friends, his true friends it seemed, found her funny, doubling over in laughter at her witty retorts to Jake’s comments, and her jabs at particularly disliked teachers. She no longer cowered behind Jake as he spoke to his teammates, because Brett or Willie were always around, actively roping her into easy conversation. For the first time in her life, Honey had friends, well, besides Jake, but she'd always had Jake.

That Friday night, after the game, as Jake slung off his shoulder pads and tossed them into his designated cubby, Brett’s voice sounded over the bustle of the loud locker room.

“Yo, Jake, are you and Honey going to The Basket after this? I’m fucking starving, man, and she always lets me have her fries she doesn’t eat.”

Jake felt a weird sort of flutter erupt in his chest, knowing that he wasn’t the only person to see Honey’s personality, that she had made an impression on his closest friends too. It almost made him burn with jealousy, but then he’d realized that he quite literally slept next to Honey each night-platonically, of course.

“Uh, yeah, as long as she’s down,” came Jake’s reply as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

“Fuck yeah!” Willie’s voice came into the circle of conversation. “Tell your girl to come to the after party at Junior’s too! I just finished that book she let me borrow, and that party’s gonna be ass, so we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it.”

Jake’s blood ran cold, his girl? When had his friends decided that Honey was his girl? He didn’t correct the boy’s words, only nodding as he chuckled, thinking of Honey’s frame sitting on the bales of hay at Junior’s barn as Willie’s towering linebacker frame chatted animatedly about the copy of The Outsiders she’d lent him.

“Yeah, I’ll see if she wants to come. You might have to catch her later, though, she’s not really big on parties. She’s not one to be social or drink, so people give her shit about it.”

Brett’s scoff filled the air.

“She’s wearing your numbers, Seresin.” Brett referred to Jake’s old jersey Honey often wore to the game. “And me and Willie’ll be there, nobody’s gonna mess with ‘er.”

That night, Honey and Jake sat on one side of a sticky red booth at the local diner with Willie and Brett across from them, opting to spend their night over dinner instead of at a party the law would likely bust. Jake had hardly spoken to Honey at all since they’d arrived, she was deep in a conversation with Willie over greasers and poems about gold. It made Jake happy that she and his friends got along, but as Honey flashed Willie a smile she’d only given him, he felt his fists tighten at his side, the burning jealousy returning. As Brett chattered on and on, Jake tried to focus, but his eyes kept lingering on the other side of him, seeing Honey laugh or her eyes sparkle as she divulged in literary talk. His mood had turned sour, and she hadn’t even noticed. So when Willie and Brett parted for the night, and they’d made their way to Jake’s truck, she’d clocked his frown as he opened her door for her.

“You alright, J?” Her voice was sweet, laced with sympathy.

“M’fine, Hon,” came his reply as he shut the door, walking around to his side and sliding in before starting the truck. Silence filled the truck, and Honey found her happiness deflating. She must’ve done something to upset him, that must be why he was acting this way. She pulled her knees to her chest, feeling small. Jake caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Nothing’s your fault. I swear.” His green eyes were more warm than before.

“Then why are you acting like this? I-I’m sorry if you thought I was ignoring you, I just got caught up in talking to Willie about the book that I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s not that, you haven’t done anything, I promise. Just, thinking about a lot up here.” His pointer finger tapped against his temple.

“You can always talk to me. You can tell me anything, Jake.”

He smiled at her and nodded, but he knew he couldn’t. He could tell her anything except that he was in love with her.

-

taglist:

@djs8891

[averagewriter-inthedark]

It’s Been A Long, Long Time 🥀 | Fallout AU

Set after the events of S1 of Fallout

Masterlists | Part 2

Characters & Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x super soldier!reader (romantic), reader x male!oc (past romance), reader x Chester Phillips (past romance), Lucy Maclean (platonic)

Content warnings: Fallout x Marvel AU, profanity, angst, mentions of death, violence, age gap (reader is physically in her 40s, Cooper in his 50s, but they are both hundreds of years old), cannon divergence, suggestive themes, strangers/enemies-to-friends-to-lovers | female!reader (she/her) | wc about 6k

Premise: When Lucy and Cooper stumbled upon the remnants of an abandoned underground facility in what used to be the Nation's capital, they are quick to explore in hopes of finding supplies and information on Vault-Tec. However, the two are in for the shock of their lives when they accidentally awaken a woman housed in a cryogenic chamber, whose historical significance can be traced back to the Second World War. Not to mention she possesses a valuable substance scientists have been eager to replicate for centuries. And after traveling for months, Cooper finds himself battling emotions he kept dormant for centuries, when they form a bond only the two former soldiers could understand. 

Note: Alright so idk how this happened but it was exactly it was the result of me hyperfixating on an idea for almost two weeks until I broke and had to get it out on paper (docs 💀) Enjoy!

———————

“What was it like?” Lucy’s voice breaks through the peaceful silence of the night. The moon was full and high in the sky. After a long day of traveling the group had finally made camp, exhausted from the day which involved a typical shootout with raiders and scavenging for information on Vault-Tec. Lucy’s voice was full of curiosity, her face illuminated by the fire as she ogled at the woman seated across from her. Elbows perched on her knees while leaning her chin on clasped hands. Only offering a raise of her brow to convey she heard Lucy’s question when the girl began to question if she did or not.

“You mean the war? Or life in general?” Came the reply, her transatlantic accent thick. The woman not taking her eyes off the fire to meet the girl’s eager stare. If any other lost soul in the Wasteland overheard the conversation they’d be quick to believe she was talking about the Great War. 

Only….it was far from it. 

“Everything,” Lucy failed at hiding her desperation, earning a warning glare from Cooper, whose ears perked up the second Lucy asked the question. The cowboy leaned against his own log off to the side of the woman. Legs crossed and hat slightly pulled down to the brim of his eyes. 

This time the woman looked at Lucy. Except she didn’t so much as move her body, only shifting her eye to glance from the side. “I thought you both read my file. And watched the tapes I recorded.”

“We did,” Lucy admitted, offering a nervous smile, “But reading about history is vastly different than when you hear it first hand from someone who lived through it. When I taught the kids in my vault they always preferred watching the holotapes rather than the books that’d been preserved. And so much from the 20th century had been lost….” her words fall short at the crossed look she received from Cooper. A warning. 

Heat rising to her cheeks, Lucy reiterated and in doing so began to ramble, “I-I mean I only ask if you’re comfortable with talking about it. Sorry I should’ve been more considerate--I know it’s a sensitive topic with-- I-I mean you just woke up not even two weeks ago to find 345 years have passed--,” Cooper was about five seconds from shutting the girl up with a tranq, looking at her like she’d grown two heads. “--and America is not how you left it. Oh God I’m being really insensitive--I am so sorry,” Lucy’s mouth snaps as the woman cuts her off with a tired sigh. 

It’s not like the woman was upset with Lucy’s question. Aware the former vault dueller had previously been a history teacher and enjoyed learning about the pre-war era, as well as the 300+ years America once was. Curiosity was natural. But one had to accept the reality that the truth was not sunshine and rainbows.

As she contemplated the next words to say, her mind traced back ten days ago. Where she awoke to a new world…or what her companions called, a wasteland.

“Well what do we have ‘ere,” Cooper’s southern drawl rang out against the walls of the elevator as he lifted the gate up to see where it had taken him and Lucy. There he was met with what appeared to be a large room connected to a hallway that seemed to go on and on. ‘Strange,’ he thought, hand hovering over his pistol. Ready for any oncoming attack.

When he and Lucy stumbled upon the rusted elevator shaft on the surface on what used to be an old military installation--not far from Vault 108, initially they believed it to be a secret vault. One Vault-Tec kept hidden and out of the public eye for God knows what. Unethical experiments. Research. Possibly to house government officials, considering it was located in good ole Washington D.C. 

Well what was left of it. 

Yeah, even America’s great capital wasn’t safe from the nukes. Leveled to bits just like the rest of the country. Kinda comical when one thinks about it. Why were they there exactly? Well, the trail to Lucy’s father and the many secrets of Vault-Tec led the two on a wild goose chase. For months until they reached the east coast where they hoped to find some answers.

However, whatever this place was, was far from the typical vaults they were used to. In fact it wasn’t a vault at all.

Stepping out of the elevator shaft, the space was pitch black making it hard to see all the facility had to offer. Not to mention if any threats were lying in wait. Cooper found the switch on his right and quickly flipped it up. Light flickering as it filled up the space and down the corridor. 

Cooper moved further in while Lucy trailed behind, eyes wide with wonder as she took in her surroundings, “woah.”

“Woah indeed…” he agreed, nudging his hat up to get a better look, “What the hell?” The bunker was definitely pre-war, but seriously dated to the point the man wouldn’t put it past it to be 20th century. Hardly ransacked---which probably was the biggest surprise. It made him wonder just how long it had been abandoned without discovery. 

Filing cabinets lined the walls, old desktop computers. Chalk boards and typewriters. Not a trace of robots. Hell there was even a Coca-Cola vending machine. Now that was a relic. Coca-cola disappeared back in 2044 when Nuka-Cola was introduced. If Cooper thought hard enough, he could still taste the original soft drink on his tongue. A sweet sweet lick of nostalgia.

Unsure where to begin, Cooper decided to start on his right by approaching the giant mural of a six-winged eagle surrounded by 50 stars. Obviously to represent the states of America. Painted below in bold red letters, S.H.I.E.L.D. 

“Shield,” he tested the word, a sense of familiarity surfacing as his brain picked at it. “Where have I heard that?” Lucy came to his side, eyes locked on the mural. Also trying to figure out what it meant. 

“Could it be some type of pre-war agency?” she wondered aloud, casting a glance at Cooper. “Like the CIA or FBI? Or a subunit of Vault-Tec” She received a hum. 

“Seems likely,” moving away, Cooper accessed the cabinet closest to him. Dust flinging in the air when the drawer was pulled, revealing a heap of carefully organized files. Grabbing the first one Cooper found the meaning behind the name, which took the air out of him. Now he understood why it sounded so familiar. It was something his once marine self had been briefed on when in basic training. 

“What is it?” Lucy questioned his dumbstruck expression. 

Shaking his head, “This ain’t the work of Vault-Tec, sweetheart,” Cooper motioned at the mural, “That ther’ anagram, it stands for the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division.” Passing over the file to her Cooper grabbed another. “Now I know you said yer’ some history buff, but this…..you gotta be involved in some deep shit to know about this.”

Lucy read over the document, brows furrowed, “Wait, I know about this. We learned about SHIELD in the vaults, not much but the important parts--that it was a counter-terrorism intelligence organization and a successor of the Strategic Scientific Reserve from World War Two….” her eyes widened, processing what she just said. They were in a SHIELD facility?

They continued to walk the facility, rummaging through files of former persons of interests and government officials. Lucy took interest with the photographs she found. Getting a peak of life in America during the 20th and early 21st century. Meanwhile Cooper searched for useful supplies. Hoping there’d be a knife or displaced gun. 

“This is so cool,” Lucy held a sepia photo of President John F. Kennedy shaking hands with Shield co-founder Agent Peggy Carter. Beneath it was one of the Berlin Wall coming down. “I can’t believe how well these held up.” Her eyes caught a black & white picture dated in 1947 of Hollywood actresses Natalie Wood and Rita Hayworth posing with a beautiful woman who looked like she belonged with them. All smiling at the camera, but unlike the actresses the mystery woman’s smile was closed and didn’t reach her eyes. Lucy didn’t recognize her, but made a mental note to see if she could find any other information on her. Assuming she must’ve been important for the photo to end up at the SHIELD base. 

Entering a room near the end of the vast hallway, an eerie feeling came over the two. So suddenly it made Lucy’s stomach take a turn, “that’s weird.” Cooper didn’t respond but internally he felt the same. Something about the room was unpleasant. But they couldn’t put a finger on it.

Unlike the other rooms, the two had to become tech whizzes to decipher the lockbox. A rather difficult task as the technology was ancient. In their research they discovered SHIELD founded in the 1950s. Then Cooper had to think back to his history lessons in basic to remember the organization disbanded in 2014. Almost ten years before Cooper was born. 

“What happened,” Lucy questioned. 

“Rats in the system,” Cooper put it short, but upon her confused face he explained further. “They were infiltrated, early on too, by the terrorist organization they were fighting against.” 

The girl frowned, not expecting that reason and wondered just how long it had been going on. For an agency of their nature to be infiltrated by the enemy, leading to their downfall.  “That’s unfortunate,” her statement earned a sound of agreement from the cowboy. 

More cabinets. More files. More questions they wanted answers to. 

And answers they’ll…somewhat get. In the form of a 345 year old cryogenic woman…..who was SHIELD’s lost super soldier. 

Okay so it was an accident. They didn’t mean to unfreeze the woman after they stumbled upon her pod hidden beneath the floors of where the lead scientists desk laid. And no wonder it took an arm and a leg to get into the room. It was the office of the man SHIELD recruited from HYDRA. 

And he harbored a major secret. 

“Well what should we do in the meantime?” Lucy felt uneasy, staring at the pod which was in the process of defrosting. Frightened at what waited for them. If she had been asleep for as long as the person inside and woke up to a world blown to bits, Lucy’d have a meltdown. The thought alone combined with the icy temperature filling the room caused chills to rise on her arms. 

“Don’t know. Maybe try and find out who the hell this is,” Cooper suggested, moving away from the pod to see what he could find. Staring with the scientists' desk, thinking it’d be the key.

Leaning over to peer into the window, noticing the ice had slowly started to melt, Lucy’s eyes widened. “Holy moly! She’s the woman from the photo!” 

“What photo?” Cooper glanced up, eyes narrowed with suspicion. 

Lucy made a motion with her hand, “I saw a photo in the other room of a woman standing with Natalie Wood and Rita Hayworth, but I couldn’t recognize her.” She pointed to the pod, face riddled with shock. “It’s her! She’s the mystery woman in the photo.” Suddenly Lucy realized something, “That was dated 1947…..” 

Cooper caught on to what she was saying. Moving hastily to pull out files from the drawers and handing her a stack, “Well let’s try to find more about our frozen popsicle.” They got work, Lucy perching herself on the desk while Cooper remained crouching on the floor. Reading for what felt like hours of decades worth of information the scientist had on SHIELD and HYDRA. Playing the waiting game while the woman defrosted from her pod. 

“How long will it take?” Lucy plopped another file on the floor after finishing it, moving to the next. 

“Not sure,” Cooper licked his lip to turn a page, reading about the assassination of a political figure SHIELD investigated. “Could be minutes. Could be hours. Once that thing warms up, who knows how long before she wakes.”

“What a surprise she’s in for.” Cooper grumbled in agreement, making Lucy frown, deep in thought. “How do you think she’ll react?” Now usually Cooper would’ve told her enough with the questions, but he was plagued with the same thought.

How would she react? They didn’t know anything about the woman except she’d been asleep for at least 300+ years. Truthfully Cooper was expecting her to lash out. It would be the most reasonable reaction to the horrifying truth. Either that or breakdown in a heap of tears. Honestly, maybe she’ll do both.

“I don’t know, vaultie. What would you do?” That made her fall silent which he was hoping for. The two return their focus back to the files. Losing hope by the second of finding the mysterious woman. There had to be something on her in the stack. After all, she was in a cryo pod hidden in the floor. Of a mad scientist. 

About five minutes later Lucy’s amplified gasp nearly had Cooper jump, turning to find her shell-shocked at whatever lay within the file she was holding. “What is it, 33?”

“Cooper this--this doesn’t make sense,” Lucy’s eyes read furiously over the papers, astonishment in her face. Refusing to believe what the file was telling her. But the picture was clear as day. Matching the face in the pod. 

Cooper looked at her wearily, “What is it, vaultie?” 

She looked like she’d seen a ghost. “The woman in the pod,” she held the file out, still in disbelief. Lucy’s mind raced with a million questions, fearful of the answers as she pushed the papers to him, “This is her.” 

Snatching the file, Cooper gave the girl an odd once over before drawing his gaze down on the file. There he saw what she was referring to. Eyes landing first on the sepia photograph stapled on the front. It was the first time Cooper was seeing the woman since he hadn’t seen the picture Lucy mentioned earlier and was already occupied with the desk to look in the pods window. 

She was beautiful. Ethereal. A timeless beauty like many women of the 1900s with a face people would kill for. In the photo she was posing with her right shoulder out, dressed in a crisp Army uniform, Captain ranks--which Cooper recognized and gave an impressed whistle under his breath--reflecting the light of the camera flash. Hair curled typical for the time, classy makeup. The man would be lying if he said he wouldn’t do a double take in the streets if he saw her walking down. 

Then Cooper got to reading, hairless brows raising to his scarred skull and he swore his heart stopped. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way.” 

There it was clear as day. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. File #0002

Project Rebirth -- Subject xxxx-xxxx

Name: Dr. Y/n M/n Andrews (neé L/n)   DOB: XX X 1908    SSN: xxx-xx-xxxx

Birthplace: Manhattan, New York, USA    Document Citizenship: United States

Education: Doctorate of Physics, Massachusetts Institute of Technology 

Title: Advisor, Agent (formerly), soldier (formerly) Alias: Eagle

Rank: First Officer (WAAC); Captain (U.S Army)

Clearance: Level 10

Family: Captain Timothy Nile Andrews (husband--m.1933/deceased--d.1944)

Beatrice E. Andrews (daughter--b.1935), Henry T. Andrews (son--b.1939), Charlene L. Phillips (daughter--b.1949)

Howard A. Stark (Cousin)

Language(s): English, Spanish, German, Italian 

Affiliation(s): MIT, Stark Industries, Strategic Scientific Reserve, United States Army, WAAC 107th Infantry Regiment, Howling Commandos, Steve Rogers--Captain America

Wars/Battles: Second World War

Cooper whistled, reading over the first page one more time before moving onto the next. A beauty and brains with a fighting heart. She was a soldier, a pretty damn good one at that with all her career accomplishments with the Army and World War Two. A genius by the looks of her contributions to physics prior to the war. 

Presidential Medal of Honor. Key to the City of Manhattan. Honorary Advisor of MIT’s Department of Physics. Contributor on many research articles and projects, including the Project Rebirth Cooper saw on the first page. His brows furrowed at the part where it said Y/n was also a Co-founder of SHIELD.

Now if that was true, then why was the woman trapped in a cryo pod? From the file alone Cooper could tell she was an important figure in American history. What had she done to earn her a one way ticket to frozen land?

Cooper’s hand stilled in the air after turning to the final page of Y/n’s file, the header in bold: Advancements to physiology following fusion of the Super Soldier Serum. “What the fuck?”

Description: After a successful transformation of implementing the Super Soldier Serum created by Dr. Erskine into the subject’s biological makeup, Dr. L/n-Andrews physiological improvements have exceeded expectations--in accordance with the results seen from Subject #0001, Steve Rogers. Dr. L/n-Andrews psychological responses lack abnormalities, cognition skills are excellent. IQ remains in the 160-179 range. Subjects’ blood tests show changes in DNA--more tests shall be conducted for further analysis. 

Attributes/Skills--before serum: Strategy, marksmanship, logistics, leadership, tradecraft, hand-to-hand combat

Attributes/Skills--after serum: Superhuman strength, enhanced agility, accelerated healing, slowed aging, enhanced immune system. 

Security threat level: high (dated 08/15/1951)

Cooper read over the file a second time. Not just to render his disbelief but also commit it to memory. He’d seen a lot of shit in his elongated life, but never did he expect he’d be dealing with a real life runaway supersoldier. 

More like a superhero.

“Cooper, what does this mean?” Lucy’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. The man glanced to find her chewing on her fingernails, anxiety all over her face.

“It means we’ve just woken up a superhuman from World War II, vaultie. Plain as day.” He kept his own concerns hidden, not willing to worry Lucy further. They’ll deal with the potential threat once she wakes up. 

Until then, they wait. 

During their search to find more on Dr. Y/n L/n-Andrews, they hit the jackpot when Cooper stumbled on a dusty box full of video tapes. Not holotapes that have been the standard since 2063. Video. Thankfully there was an old 20th century TV equipped with a VHS system. Talk about old school. 

Popping one in, labeled CA & EG Ad ‘42, Cooper claimed the seat in front of the desk while Lucy stayed in her spot. After a few seconds to allow the dinosaur television to turn on, black and white static filled the screen. Then a moment later the image became clear showing two figures they now had names to faces. Y/n L/n-Andrews & Steve Rogers. 

“Hello, America I’m Steve Rogers,” the blonde man waved, decked in his Captain America suit. Cooper made a face, not really impressed with the man attempting to be America’s sweetheart. 

Well to be fair he definitely fit the image. 

“And I’m Y/n Andrews,” the beautiful woman beamed, pearly white teeth flashing the camera. She had a strong transatlantic accent, popular of their time and heard amongst those in entertainment and high class society. A dialect teetering on the edge of half-British and half-American. Where basically the letter ‘r’ was nonexistent and vowels were elongated to make words sound more posh. Her outfit was similar to Steve’s in the sense it was obviously a tactical suit, but where his resembled the American flag, Y/n’s had the image of an eagle. “You may recognize us from the occasional radio infomercial or have seen our faces in your local recruiting office.” 

Steve pointed to the camera, “And we’re here to tell you that America needs all the help across the pond. Whether it be donating to the Red Cross or enlisting in the Army to become a proud soldier--.” 

“Don’t forget the Army Nurses Corps, Steve,” Y/n gently cut him off, still smiling and Cooper wondered if she was in pain. Relating to all the times he had to do those damn Vault-Tec ads. “They’re looking for determined, bright, exceptional ladies ready to provide our boys on the frontlines with the best care.”

“That’s right, Y/n,” Steve agreed, grinning at her briefly. The advertisement was the typical propaganda one sees during a war. Hiding the horrors, trying to get people to sign their life away to fight in something they didn’t ask for. Cooper heard it all. 

And as a former soldier and spokesperson, the bounty hunter picked up on how uncomfortable Y/n was, despite trying to hide it. Acting most definitely not her forte. The smile not reaching her eyes as well as her posture being tense. At times Cooper caught her looking past the camera where her face shifted before replacing it with the fake expression. Her demeanor screamed she wanted to be rescued. Like she’d rather get her hands dirty than being a showgirl for the American people.

Lucy scanned through the box of tapes, reading over the labels until deciding on the one marked, Debrief--Phillips, Andrews, Stark, & Carter, ‘45. What caught her attention was the first name, Phillips, it was the same last name of Y/n’s third child listed on the file. Then there was Stark, the name of her cousin. “The Second World War ended what year?” 

“Nineteen-forty-five.”

“Hmmm,” Lucy pressed play on the tv once the tape was in, moving back to her seat, but not before checking the pod. The ice had completely froze but Y/n had yet to wake up. The clock was ticking and Lucy grew nervous. Placing her attention back on the screen, “This has all the names of the people that founded SHIELD.” Cooper’s interest perked, the man straightening in the chair. Ready to put faces to names. 

“Why are you video taping this, Stark?” Peeking through the static, a feminine British voice was heard off screen sounding distressed and emotional. The camera focused on a table, where the two spotted Y/n seated while an older man in an army uniform stood beside her. Y/n appeared exhausted while the man nursed a drink. Then another woman in uniform, the one they believed had been speaking off screen, emerged and poured herself a glass of whatever the group was drinking. 

“So we have this on record,” a man’s voice, Howard Stark, entered. And based on the way the picture went wobbly, he must’ve been behind the video recorder. Adjusting the device so it remained focused on the table. Once satisfied he took his place beside the older man. Based on his ranks Cooper deemed him to be a Colonel. “Lighten up, Carter.”

“Do not tell her to lighten up,” Y/n’s tone was hard, lifting her gaze from the table to glare at her cousin before returning it. “Steve was your friend, Howard, have some respect.”

Lucy’s hand raised to her chest, right where she felt her heart sink. Overcome with a wave of sadness for the group who’d been deeply affected by what had transpired before recording the tape. Cooper understood the implication. Steve was gone.

Another detail the cowboy pieced together was the fact the older man, the Colonel, had to have been the Phillips the tape label referred to. Now that Cater was revealed to be the woman and Howard was indeed Y/n’s cousin. Meaning the Colonel was the father of Y/n’s youngest daughter. 

‘Now that’s a surprise,’ Cooper thought to himself, and based on the stunned look of his companion, Lucy thought so too. He had to have at least 20 years on Y/n.

“You don’t need to remind me,” Howard gruffed, reaching for the bottle and slamming it down roughly once his drink was poured. “But we’ve got important matters at stake right now. And we’d be letting him down--after what he sacrificed--if we waste our time wallowing instead of getting to work.”

“What important matters could you possibly be referring to?” 

“You know what,” this time the Colonel spoke, his deep voice radiating off the screen. His words caused Y/n to stiffen, slowly looking up to find him staring at her with a serious expression. “And if we don’t act fast now the feds are going to be on our doorstep quicker than a hot turkey on Thanksgiving day.”

Agent Carter's face turned dark, standing close to Y/n to lay a protective hand on her shoulder, “I think this conversation can wait, Chester. The war just ended, Y/n is still grieving her loss and--.” 

“I’m well aware and while I share her grief, I’ve got Senators calling with demands of what ought to happen now that America's super soldier is gone! We need a plan to keep them distracted.” The rest of the video mostly consisted of the group arguing with neither Lucy or Cooper able to grasp what exactly the soldiers were trying to exactly hide from the government. But based on the body language of everyone, the cowboy leading theory pointed at the doctor, and the serum coursing in her veins.

During their watch of Y/n giving a solo advertisement to recruit women to the Women’s Army Corps from 1942, they hadn’t realized how much time had passed. And although not an actress in her own light, Cooper felt himself drawn to the woman on the screen. She was enticing. The type of woman people both admired and envied. 

And with a sunken heart, Cooper related to her now more than ever. 

On their sixth tape, and evidently their last one, the duo were rather unnerved by the title. Sharing a look as Lucy took the initiative to place it in the system. 

House Committee Hearing ‘50

Lucy bit at her nails again, the skin red and irritated as she took her seat. A sickening feeling in her stomach. The anxiety was becoming unbearable, but they still had no clue when Y/n would wake up. Really they needed to form a plan, but they were too immersed in learning the woman’s history. 

“For the record today’s date is Monday the tenth of April, nineteen fifty and it is the first day of the congressional hearings on the matters of Strategic Scientific Reserve’s suspected authorization of the Super Soldier Serum on Dr. Y/n Andrews.”

Well things just got interesting. Cooper and Lucy now certain this hearing was what Chester referred to in the debrief tape. Congress had finally summoned them in regards to Y/n’s nature. 

The screen showed a man in a suit and rounded glasses seated in front of a microphone with a stack of papers. A marker reading Senator Bures placed directly in front of the mic. Other suited men sat around him with the American flag draped on the wall behind the chamber. Then the image flickered to a table. Y/n sat in between Chester and a man with a briefcase, who Cooper instantly registered as a lawyer. A gallery of people and photographers filled the space, Peggy and Howard in the front row. 

“Please state your name for the record.” The soldiers obliged and were then instructed to swear under oath. Cooper leaned forward, finger on his lips as he watched Y/n place her hand on the bible and repeat the words spoken to her. Deeply interesting on what the hearing would entail. One thing was clear: the government was threatened by Y/n. 

After some introduction questions, mostly directed to Chester and the beginning states of Project Rebirth, the attention turned to Y/n. “Dr. Andrews,” Senator Johnson spoke into his mic. “What was your initial involvement in Project Rebirth.”

Y/n leaned towards her own mic, hands clasped on the table. “I was a collaborator on the project alongside Dr. Erskine. As Colonel Phillips stated, he recruited my cousin and I in 1942 and I worked closely with Dr. Erskine because of my work on radiation physics.” Cooper and Lucy shared another glance. Y/n specialized in radiation physics? 

“How exactly does radiation physics play into the serum, Doctor?”

“We were working with particles, Senator. Particles with high speed energy and electromagnetic waves,” her tone was calm, neutral. Not given any indication she was under pressure and reporting like the scientist she was. “Dr. Erskine’s serum was, at its core, radioactive. It completely changed the biological makeup of the recipient. In our case, Captain Rogers. My role was to observe and record the effects of the serum on the human body. Specifically the level of radiation.” 

They asked a few more questions about Y/n’s work. Including her reports on the serum and its effect on Steve Rogers. Then it got to the whole reason they were having the hearing; did Y/n inject herself with the serum?

Now Lucy and Cooper obviously knew the truth. She was a supersoldier and fought on the frontlines. The file didn’t lie. The question was if the government knew as well. And by the looks of it, they didn’t. 

“Doctor, we have reason to believe you and members of the SSR conducted an unauthorized demonstration in which you, Dr. Andrews, underwent the transformation of injecting the super soldier into your bloodstream on the 22nd of August 1943.” Murmurs in the background suggested the audience were hearing it for the first time. Minus of course Howard and Peggy, who visibly stiffened behind Y/n.

Y/I head tilted up in defiance, “Your evidence?” Her voice was strong, confident. Cooper felt himself captivated by the way she commanded the room. 

“Doctor,” Senator Franz, removed his glasses. “It was reported all remaining vials of the super soldier serum were destroyed following Mr. Rogers demonstration.”

“That is correct.”

“A witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, has come forward saying that on the 22nd of August 1943, you, your late husband Captain Timothy Andrews, Colonel Phililps, Captain Rogers, Agent Carter, and Mr. Stark were seen in a restricted area for approximately three hours. They say you were carrying a briefcase and upon leaving the restricted area, your physicality had changed. Care to explain?” 

Y/n, again, was neutral, “To put it simply, Senator, we were having a meeting discussing Captain Rogers and I’s unit, the Howling Commandos. In the briefcase were maps and strategy plans to analyze. Nothing more, so I do not understand why this witness has assumed we even possessed a vial of the serum when all were destroyed in 1942.” 

The men didn’t look convinced, “That’s what we want to know. And it is not only this witness, Doctor, several soldiers who were on the frontlines claim you displayed unusual strength at times.”

“Well forgive me for saying this,” she was now smiling, but it wasn’t genuine at all, “but men refuse to believe women are capable of certain areas, strength for example, that are expected of them. It’s already enough for my intellect to be questioned,” Straightening her posture, Y/n went on to say, “Gentlemen, I was not only a doctor for the SSR, I was also a soldier. Therefore I trained like one--which my late husband and Captain Rogers were kind enough to assist me with. What that witness saw was my progress.” Cooper couldn’t help the amazed laugh that slipped out.

“Is she…” Lucy pointed to the screen, also astonished, “gaslighting the government?”

“She damn sure is,” Cooper laughed again. The balls this woman had rivaled some of the producers and agents he’d worked with in Hollywood. 

As the tape rolled on more back and forth happened between Y/n and the senators. They’d attempt to invalidate her story, she’d rebuff with the perfect response. Dismissing their claims and providing evidence of her own to counter it. Chester and the lawyer were asked questions as well, backing up Y/n which strengthened their side. 

It was a heated debate. One that lasted nearly an hour and had started to run its course. Congress was starting to lose the upper hand. And the defense was becoming exhausted. 

“Before we adjourn this hearing there is one last thing I have to say,” the room was eerily silent, the senators voice carrying throughout the space. Cooper saw the frustration in his face. Wondering where the hell he and his fellow chamber members got it all wrong. “We may not have all the evidence to convict you and the rest of SHIELD’s founders of anything today, but make no mistake,” His glare was stern, threatening. “We will be watching. And if we find the slightest confirmation, Doctor, that you are carrying the super soldier serum, you will be locked in a military prison for the rest of your life and subjected to experimentation.”

Y/n remained quiet, the threat lingering in the room as her gaze never wavered from the man. Movement from the side indicated Chester likely placing a hand on the woman, offering a comforting hand. “Understood,” the tone in her voice was impartial. “You may have your suspicions and conduct your investigations, but the truth of what took place in August of 1942 was laid before you today. America had their super soldier and he sacrificed himself to put an end to Hydra once and for all. My role was nothing more than a doctor devoted to research, and a soldier committed to ending the war. I assure you, Senators,” her eyes were full of fire, chin high with confidence. Refusing to let the men hold power over the situation. It was a chilling sight, sending a shiver down Cooper’s spine, “The super soldier serum died with Captain Rogers.”

Closing remarks were given and they were dismissed shortly after. By the time the static rolled, signaling the end of the tape, Cooper and Lucy were at a loss for words. Both in disbelief, and turning to each other with matching horrified expressions. Asking themselves the same question.

Did the government find out it was all a lie? Is that why she was in the pod--to be a science experiment for the rest of her life?

The theory made sense. A terrifying one that had a pit of disgust forming in the duo, but not surprising at the same time considering the government proved time and time again they were cruel. 

Well people in power in general. Take Vault-Tec for example. Who accumulated so much power they blew up America.

Lucy went to remove the tape, throwing it back in the pile before turning back to Cooper to figure out their options now they were dealing with not only a super soldier, but possibly a former government fugitive who underwent God knows what in her captivity. 

But before she even got a word out, Lucy became frighteningly still, eyes bulging from their sockets. The color drained in her face as she looked past Cooper’s shoulder, a choked sound leaving her mouth while it went slack. And before Cooper could ask the reason for her sudden behavior, a new voice entered the picture, causing the already chill atmosphere to become icy. 

“Who the hell are you people?”

[maximoffcarter]

Moving on.

Pairings: Casey Novak x Alex Cabot (Past), Casey Novak x reader.

Summary: Casey Novak thought she could never open her heart to anyone else after what she had gone through in the past, but the moment she met Alex, she changed her mind. But sometimes things don't go the way we want them to.

A/n: Sorry for the delay, shit happened but I figured that posting could distract me at least a bit, so here it is guys😌 This was requested by anon, this anon has requested amazing things and I am so thankful for this sweet anon (hope it is the same if not, I still think you amazing). It was hard, ngl, I had to take a hard decision but here is the final result. More to come guys, I'm working on everyone's requests. Hope you guys enjoy this, leave comments, hearts, whatever you like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

*not my gif*

The moment Casey met Alex when she started working in White Collar, she believed that she had gone to heaven and back. She had heard so many things about A.D.A. Alexandra Cabot, she had seen her before in court, and the little crush she had developed in her had only grown the moment they had run into each other when they were both getting lunch in the same place. People would call it a coincidence, but for Casey, this had definitely been fate putting them together; it was silly, yes, but she couldn’t help the thought of it. After that day, it became a routine to set a time for lunch and go out, or Alex calling Casey to come to her office and have lunch there. It took about a month or so for Alex to finally ask Casey out on an official date, she had wanted to do it for so long, but never got the guts because Casey was just so perfect in her eyes that she’d never want someone like Alex.

They had even spent nights together in each other’s apartments, late nights were they were entangled in each other’s bodies, laughs, long conversations, etc. And it had taken them another month to finally make things official; Alex had been the one to pop the silly but cute question one time that they were in her office late at night. Casey had almost begged Alex to let her stay with her because she didn’t want to leave Alex alone, but in reality she just wanted to spend more time her, it was her favorite part of the day, and she was not about to miss it that day. And after an hour or so, Alex couldn’t help but stare at Casey the whole time, a smile painted on her face. Every day that she had spent with Casey, she had not been able to take Casey off her mind, she was the happiest she had ever been, and there was no denial that Casey felt the same way, not when Casey showed her every single day that she loved having Alex around.

“Alex?” Casey asked softly.

Alex snapped out of her trance and smiled. “Yes?”

Casey chuckled softly. “I lost you there for a moment. What were you thinking about?” She grinned softly.

“Nothing.” Alex grinned back.

“Oh, you were thinking about something. I know that look.” Casey chuckled as she closed her file and put her hands together as she waited for Alex to talk.

Alex smiled and shook her head, looking away. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing is ever stupid when it comes to you, Alex. You should know that by now.” Casey said softly as she smiled.

“Want to be my girlfriend?” Alex suddenly said as she looked back up at Casey, nervously nobbling on her lip.

Casey stared at her and grinned, trying to hold back the chuckle that wanted to come out. “Alex…I thought we were already dating.”

“We…were?” Alex furrowed her brows. “I just…I didn’t…”

Casey chuckled softly as she put the file on Alex’s desk and stood up to walk to Alex, pushing her chair back and sitting on her lap, wrapping her arms around her neck. “You’re right, we never actually talked about it.” She smiled softly.

“You thought the nights you spent with me were enough?” Alex teased as she looked into those beautiful green eyes that she loved.

Casey tilted her head as she wetted her lips teasingly. “Maybe so.” She grinned. “And yes.”

Alex raised her brows as she smiled. “Yes?”

Casey chuckled as she nodded. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.” She smiled as she leaned down and kissed Alex’s lips softly.

Alex smiled against her lips as she wrapped her arms tightly around Casey, kissing her back softly. “I’m sorry if that was cheesy.” She chuckled.

“Oh, I love when the Ice Queen is all cute and cheesy.” Casey chuckled as she kissed her forehead. “Only I get to see this side of you, and I love it.” She looked into blue eyes as she smiled.

Alex blushed slightly as she nodded. “Only you get this side.” She smiled. “And I get the cheeky, smiley Casey.” She grinned softly as she kissed her cheeks, right where her dimples were showing.

It was Casey’s turn to blush, giggling as she nudged Alex. “Stop that!”

“What? I love when your dimples show.” Alex grinned. “You look so cute.”

“Okay, now you are being really cheesy.” Casey teased as she brought their lips back together.

Casey couldn’t have asked for anything better than this moment right here. Even after always having the idea that she didn’t want to get involved in any relationships, she was happy that she could be in one with Alex. She was willing to do anything to make things work, just like she knew that Alex would do anything for them too.

********************

A year or so had passed since Alex and Casey had made their relationship official, at some point, it was decided that Casey would be working some cases with Alex since she had a load of work, but she was not officially part of Sex Crimes, still sticking with White Collar. Their relationship have been so easy, it felt so unreal how well they both worked together. They both understood each other for the jobs they did, and even if their personalities were different, that’s what completed them so perfectly. They both had fallen for each other deeply, even the squad teased Alex on how she had changed once Casey entered her life, and she loved it, she couldn’t deny it. It was everything she had always wanted, and it was everything she needed in her life.

“So, when is Alexandra Cabot gonna propose?” Elliot raised his brow as he looked at Alex, who was sitting with them in the squad room.

Alex looked at Elliot with wide eyes. “W-What? I’m…that’s not happening. I mean…not yet.”

Olivia laughed softly. “Oh, c’mon! You both are so in love, we want to attend a wedding. We need some happiness after the horrible things we see here.”

Alex rolled her eyes playfully as she huffed a chuckle. “We…have not talked about it, okay? C’mon, guys. We just moved in together like two months ago, give us a little break.” She chuckled nervously.

“Fair enough.” Olivia nodded as she raised her brow. “But I’m pretty sure that if you asked Casey…she’d say yes pretty quickly.” She grinned.

Alex stared at Olivia for longer than she expected as she nodded. Of course, this had been stuck in her mind for the whole day, thinking back to her relationship with Casey and how happy she was, the happiest she had ever been and the happiest she could ever be. They were already living together, they were already doing everything that any other married couple did, right? So…marriage didn’t sound bad. She did want to spend her whole life with Casey. And as in for Casey…she wanted that too, but she had barely said anything about it because maybe it was too soon, she had already been engaged once and it had not ended the way she wanted to, so she was a bit afraid that maybe this thing would go the same way, but it was Alex…Alex would never do that.

Casey sighed as she closed the door behind her and smiled softly as she saw Alex walking towards her. “Did you just get home too?”

Alex nodded. “I did.” She chuckled softly as she took Casey’s briefcase and placed it on the rack. She wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her close to her body to kiss her. “Hi.” She whispered against her lips.

“Hi back.” Casey smiled against her lips and then kissed her softly. “You had dinner?”

Alex tilted her head as she smiled. “I was thinking that maybe we could go out.”

Casey raised her brows as she grinned. “Oh, Alexandra Cabot is inviting me on a spontaneous date?”

Alex nodded. “Maybe I am.” She smiled. “What do you say?”

Casey smiles softly and nodded. “Let me get out of these clothes first.” She leaned in to peck her lips and then walked to their room.

After dinner, both women decided to take a scroll through the city, it was still somehow early, not too late to be out in the streets of New York. They kept talking about everything and nothing at the same time, just enjoying each other’s company. Moments like these were the ones that they both enjoyed to the fullest, it wasn’t every day that they had a chance to go out and enjoy a nice dinner and walk, they’d normally go back home, have some dinner, and go straight to bed because work would be waiting the next day. This is exactly what Casey wanted her life to be like. She wanted this life with Alex. They both understood each other’s jobs, they understood each other’s lives, and they couldn’t be happier. For a moment, it crossed Casey’s mind that maybe, just maybe…Alex was the one.

********************

Casey ran through the hallways of the hospital as she panted, her phone and bag in hand as she looked around. Earlier that day, Casey had talked to Alex about dropping a case she had, they knew their address, they knew Casey was Alex’s girlfriend, they knew every little detail about Alex’s life, they were both at risk, but Casey cared more about what could happen to Alex if she continued this case. She had almost begged Alex to drop it, and finally, she had decided to listen to Casey.

“Promise me, Alex.” Casey said softly as she placed her hands on Alex’s neck, green eyes looking into blue ones.

Alex smiled softly as she nodded. “I will.” She pulled Casey close to her body and rubbed her back. “I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“I don’t care about me, Alex. It’s you who’s prosecuting. I just want you to be safe.” Casey said almost in a whisper, as if talking louder would hurt them both.

Alex leaned in and kissed her lips softly. “I’ll be okay.” She whispered against her lips, kidding Casey’s chin, forehead, nose, and cheeks, smiling softly as Casey giggled.

Casey rolled her eyes playfully. “Good.” She smiled softly and kissed Alex’s lips softly.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” Alex smiled.

“And you’re stubborn.” Casey raised her brow playfully.

“And you love me for it.” Alex chuckled as she leaned in and kissed her lips again.

Casey had court all day, so she only got a text from Alex saying that she had dropped the case and now it was the feds turn, and Casey had texted her back that she’d be seeing her that night, she’d treat Alex to dinner. And then, later that night, just when she was about to call Alex to let her know she was on her way, she got a call from Olivia; Alex had been shot. She had never ran as fast as she did, not even for her games. Her feet hurt because of the annoying heels, but she didn’t care, she needed to get to the hospital.

Casey spotted Olivia and Elliot and walked to them, panting heavily. “Where is she?” She looked between the two of them as she tried to catch her breath.

“Case…” Elliot whispered softly as he looked down at the floor.

Casey frowned as she looked at him and then back at Olivia. “Liv? Where is Alex?”

Olivia took a deep, shaky breath as she placed her hand on Casey’s shoulder. “Casey…she lost a lot of blood. She never made it off the table.” She said softly as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Casey shook her head as she took a step back. “No…no. You’re…you…” she felt a pressure in her chest and suddenly the whole room was spinning. “…no…you’re…I need…Alex. She…she needs me. I…” she sobbed uncontrollably as she fell on her knees.

Casey didn’t know when or how Elliot and Olivia had gotten her on her feet and out of the hospital. Casey could only listen to their voices saying that everything would be okay and that she was not alone, but Casey get off her mind that her lover was gone. She was gone. Forever. Why did this happen? This had to be involved to the case. But she dropped it, she had just dropped it that day, it wasn’t her fault that the feds had caught him. This was not happening, this was not real. The whole ride to their apartment, Casey had been numb, no words had been able to leave her mouth, she felt like her voice was gone. Olivia said something about her needing to stay somewhere else, they had to keep an eye on her too since they knew about Casey. But did it matter? She didn’t care. They had killed her lover.

Casey walked inside their apartment and stood there for a moment, not being able to move at all. Part of her waiting for Alex to walk out of their room and come greet Casey, hug her, and kiss her, tell her that Casey had just been all day at court that she was now hallucinating. But she had stood there for fifteen minutes, and nothing had happened, silence surrounded her, and that’s when Casey’s mind focused back to reality. She closed her eyes as she sobbed, letting herself fall on her knees again. She sobbed quietly, as if she was afraid to be heard, but there was no one there, no one would hear her. She was alone. Casey jumped slightly as she felt arms wrapping around her tightly, she freaked out for a moment but then she heard Olivia’s soothing voice.

“I’m here.” Olivia whispered softly, resting her head against Casey’s.

“She’s gone.” Casey cried out.

Olivia nodded as she sighed. “Yes, sweetheart.”

Casey shook her head. “Why her?”

Olivia tried to swallow back her tears for Casey, she needed to be the strong person at the moment. “I’m not sure, Case. I wish I had the answer.”

“Are you guys going to look for the person who…” Casey took a shaky breath. “…who did this?”

“We don’t know.” Olivia said softly as she rubbed Casey’s arms. Casey nodded softly as she rested her head against Olivia’s chest. “Wanna stay with me tonight? So you don’t go to a hotel.”

Casey thought for a moment and then nodded. “Thanks.”

Casey made a mental note that she’d start looking for a new place. She couldn’t possibly stay here. She couldn’t live in this apartment without Alex. She didn’t know how she was going to continue without Alex.

********************

Casey had almost quit the moment Branch and Elizabeth talked to her and offered her Alex’s spot. She was furious that they thought about her for the spot, but as Elliot and Olivia had told her, there was no one else that Alex would want in her place. Alex trusted Casey in every way, including their job. It took her almost two weeks to finally accept the spot, and another week to finally be able to show up in the precinct, and finally be able to get back to work. The first day, she had gone back to her apartment and cried most of the night, not only for how pressured she felt about the case, but also because normally when they had a stressful day, Alex had always been there.

Now almost a whole year since Alex had died, and even if Casey had been going to a therapist, she still couldn’t help but miss her. It took her some time to adjust to her new routine, new job, new office, new environment, new apartment…new life. She had been thankful that Olivia and Elliot had been there through it all, even if Alex had been closer because they worked together, ever since they started dating, Casey also became their friend, and she was thankful that at least at this moment of her life, she had never been alone. She walked into the precinct looking for Olivia and Elliot, but no one was around. She looked at her watch and sighed softly as she realized that maybe they were still at the scene.

“Can I help you?”

Casey turned to find a girl standing just a few feet away from her. “Uh…who are you?”

The girl huffed a chuckle. “I’m…y/n. Y/n y/l/n. I’m the new detective.” She smiled softly. “And you are?”

“Casey Novak. The A.D.A.” Casey said firmly.

Y/n nodded. “Oh! Hi! Well, guess you don’t need my help then.” She chuckled softly.

Casey couldn’t help but smile a little. She found it cute how she was nervous. “First days are not as expected, huh?”

Y/n smiled as she nodded. “Definitely not. I was…left here to find some records, and I’m still waiting for them. I was supposed to go with Olivia and Elliot, but they left in a rush.”

“They’ll warm up. You just need to listen to them.” Casey offered a small smile.

“You’re also new?”

Casey huffed a chuckle as she shook her head. “Ah, no. Actually, I’ve been working with them for a while now. But I was new too. And I know how it feels. But all I can tell you is that they’re a great team. You’ll learn a lot from them.”

Y/n smiled. “And from you?”

Casey stared at her for a moment, not sure what to answer to that. “Sure.” She nodded. “Uh…I don’t…see why not.”

“Good.” Y/n noticed that the squad was walking into the squad room, and she returned her stare to Casey. “Duty calls, Casey Novak.” She grinned as she walked to Olivia and Elliot.

Casey stood there for another minute before she turned to the squad and focused on what they had for the case. Every now and then, she could feel y/n’s eyes on her, and she wanted to be mad about it, she wanted to snap at her for it, but in reality…she felt flattered. She wanted to look at her and let her know that she noticed and give her a grin or a smirk. But why did she want to do that? Was it wrong? Wait…what was wrong? Why am I thinking if it’s wrong? Casey tried to focus back on the detectives and focus on the case, trying to push away any annoying thought.

A few weeks passed since the day she met y/n, and she had tried everything in her power to avoid y/n at all costs, mostly because she had no reason to talk to her when Olivia and Elliot were leading the case, but also because she wanted to avoid her intrusive thoughts about the girl. But then, in y/n’s fourth case, around a month and a half later that she joined, she had made most of the case and the squad had wanted to celebrate the victory of it, not only because of y/n’s terrific work, but because Casey had also won the case, so it was to celebrate both of them. For most of it, Casey tried to stay in the middle of Elliot and Olivia, only listening to them and every now and then joining in the conversation, but that was until Olivia moved and she was beside y/n, and not long after, they had engaged in a conversation full of laughs.

“I’m going for another drink, anyone wants one?” Y/n asked around and then looked at Casey.

Casey smiled as she nodded. “Please.”

Y/n nodded as she grinned. “Coming right up.” She grabbed the empty glasses and headed to the bar.

Olivia moved back beside Casey and raised her brow. “So.”

Casey looked at her and shrugged. “So?”

“You and y/n.” Olivia grinned.

Casey scoffed and shook her head. “We’re not doing this, Liv.”

Olivia tilted her head. “C’mon, Case. You’re gonna tell me that you two didn’t connect since the moment you met? I can see you’re avoiding her.”

Casey furrowed her brows. “Are you…are you keeping an eye on me or something?”

Olivia offered a small smile. “It’s been tough, Casey. But…you’re allowed to.”

“Allowed to what?” Casey raised her brow.

“Allowed to move on, Casey.” Olivia said softly as she smiled.

Casey stared at her for a while, trying to process the words that Olivia had just said, but before she could answer anything else, y/n had returned with their drinks and had gotten in the middle of Olivia and Casey. Soon after, the three of them had engaged in a new conversation, but Casey was still processing what Olivia had said. She was allowed to move on. She was…allowed to continue with her life like she had done it lately. She moved into a new apartment, she accepted Alex’s spot, she had created a new routine, had found a new place to practice batting, she had even changed her hair color…there were a lot of things that she had changed and new things that she had started to do, so…why not give herself that chance?

********************

“Oh, c’mon, Case! You gotta admit that I’m slowly becoming better.” Y/n grinned as she looked at Casey, taking a sip of her water as they walked through the streets of New York.

Casey rolled her eyes playfully as she grinned. “I admit…you’re a bit better but…I know you still have more in you.”

“I’m learning from the best, next thing you know, I’ll be joining the softball team and I’ll go against the great Casey Novak.” Y/n smirked as she looked at Casey.

“Oh, I’d like to see you try.” Casey chuckled softly as she looked back at y/n.

Y/n smiled softly as they came to a stop. She sighed softly and then looked away. “I’m glad you finally loosen up with me.”

Casey furrowed her brows as she stared at y/n. “What?”

Y/n shrugged. “Well…for the first month or so…you were kind of off with me. And then we started hanging out more and I got to meet a whole new side of Casey Novak.” She looked back at Casey and smiled. “I like it.”

Casey smiled softly as she looked down at the floor, nodding. “I’m sorry I uh…” she cleared her throat. “I normally don’t open up so easily and I…I was still going through some things.”

“And now 5 months later…we’re friends.” Y/n smiled playfully as she raised her brow.

Casey looked at her and laughed softly. “Yes, y/n. We are.” She smiled.

Y/n nodded as she looked down at her tumbler. “So…it’d be a wrong move to ruin it, right?”

Casey furrowed her brows. “What?”

Y/n sighed as she cleared her throat. “You know what? Don’t mind me. I’m gonna take the other way cause I need to go buy some stuff but I-“

“No.”

Y/n furrowed her brows as she looked at Casey. “What?”

Casey stared at her and shrugged. “It wouldn’t be a wrong move.”

Y/n grinned, trying to hide the fact that she was nervous. “You…know what I meant with that.”

Casey shrugged as she grinned. “One of my many talents, not only because I’m an attorney.”

Y/n chuckled softly as she nodded, looking down at the floor for a moment. “Well…” she cleared her throat again as she looked back up at Casey. “Would you maybe…like to go out for dinner? Maybe Friday?”

Casey smiled softly as nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up…7:30?”

“7:30 pm. Noted.” Casey smiled.

Y/n chuckled softly. “Noted.”

Casey raised her brow. “So…were you really going the other way, or did I make you nervous and you were trying to escape from me?”

Y/n blushed slightly and scrunched her nose. “Second one?”

Casey rolled her eyes as she grabbed y/n’s arm. “C’mon.” She chuckled as they crossed the street.

********************

“What?” Olivia said as she stared at Cragen.

“What didn’t you tell us?” Elliot asked almost in a whisper as he stared at Cragen.

Cragen sighed. “It was to protect her. I found out after her funeral.”

Olivia raised her brows as she felt her eyes getting teary. “Almost two years…and she’s…alive.”

“She’s in Wisconsin.”

“Casey.” Olivia whispered as she furrowed her brows. “How are we supposed to tell Casey? She charged him with the murder of Alex. And we supported her because we…”

“We need to tell her. Because…” Cragen sighed as he looked at both of them. “I might have convinced her to come back to help us with the case.”

Elliot scoffed as he crossed his arms. “And you believe Casey is not gonna kill us for this?”

“I’ll take full responsibility. But we need to win this case. For Alex. And for Antonio.”

Olivia nodded as she scoffed, walking out of his office. Olivia thought it was best to not call Casey yet and let the rest of the squad know that Alex was alive. Almost two years of thinking she was gone, but now she was about to return. Olivia pulled y/n aside and explained to her the whole situation, opting to tell her about Casey and Alex before anything else happened. Casey and y/n had started dating after a few dates, it had been a few months of it, and both seemed very happy; Casey seemed very happy. How could they tell her now that her ex-girlfriend, the woman she thought was the one and had died, was returning to help her case.

Casey was getting some files from her desk when the door opened and Elliot, Olivia and y/n walked into her office. Casey looked up at them and smiled. “Hey. Something wrong? Found something else on Connors?”

Elliot cleared his throat as he looked at Olivia and y/n. “Casey…we need to talk.”

Casey furrowed her brows. “What about?”

“You need to drop the charges on Alex’s murder.” Elliot simply said, not able to find any other way to say it.

Casey tilted her head confused. “Uh…and why would I do that? That helps our case, we have a chance to get him behind bars, get justice. Why would I do that?”

Y/n sighed as she looked at Olivia and then at Casey. “Case…there’s something you need to know.” She walked to her and grabbed her hand. “I just learned about this…about Alex. But uh-“

Alex.” Casey whispered softly, her eyes glued to the door.

Everyone turned around and her eyes widened as Alexandra Cabot stood by the door, smiling at them. They all stood there, just staring at Alex, and that’s when Alex realized that maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to just show up like that. Y/n felt Casey squeezing her hand, making her turn to look at Casey, and that’s when she noticed the tears in those green eyes that she loved so much. For what Olivia had told her, Alex had meant more than anything else to Casey, and her death had caused Casey a great pain, and now she was back, she had to lie to protect herself and that included lying to the people she cared about.

“Get her out of here.” Casey snapped, breaking the silence.

“Casey…” Alex whispered softly.

“Out. Now.” Casey walked to the other part of her office without looking at her anymore.

Y/n turned to look at Olivia and Elliot and nodded, her eyes landing on Alex for a second before she followed Casey and closed the doors. Y/n stood there for a second, not sure if she was supposed to walk to Casey or not if she was even supposed to be in the room. But she believed that it was the right thing to do since they were dating, and she wanted to be there for Casey no matter what. Almost as in cue, y/n opened her mouth to say something and suddenly Casey was walking to her and wrapping her arms around her, tightly. Y/n only wrapped her arms around her, holding her as she cried and sobbed, y/n pressed soft kisses on her head and let Casey cry as much as she wanted.

“She lied.” Casey finally whispered after a few minutes, her arms still wrapped around y/n.

Y/n sighed softly. “She was in Witness Protection, Case…she couldn’t just come back.”

Casey pulled away and looked at y/n, furrowing her brow. “Who knew? Olivia and Elliot knew?”

Y/n shook her head. “No. Cragen did, though. He told Elliot and Olivia this morning, and…Olivia told me before we came here.”

Casey nodded. “So you know.” Y/n nodded. “Baby…I-“

“It’s not like I wasn’t conscious that we dated other people before, Case.” Y/n chuckled softly as she stroked her cheek softly, wiping away her tears. “You were not ready to talk about her, and I get that. I told you when you told me about…” she smiled softly and stared into Casey’s eyes. “…I told you that I’d be here, no matter what, and whenever you wanted to talk, about anything, I’d be here to listen. And here I am.”

Casey smiled softly, placing her hands on y/n’s neck, and pulling her closer to her, leaning in to kiss her lips softly. “Thank you.” She whispered softly against her lips.

Y/n smiled and kissed her lips softly. “You got nothing to thank me for.”

“I do…because you’re still here.” Casey smiled.

“And I am not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Casey Novak.” Y/n smiled as she peppered her face with kisses.

Casey chuckled softly as she wrapped her arms around y/n’s shoulders to hug her, feeling somehow relieved as y/n wrapped her arms around her waist to hold her closer.

********************

“Alright, y/n and Olivia will be here any minute. I believe we’re done with my questions.” Casey said as she closed the door and walked to her desk.

Alex sighed softly as she turned to look at Casey. “Are we not going to talk other than about the case?”

Casey turned to look at Alex, a serious look on her face. “What about? The fact that I got a call from Liv telling me that you had been shot and you were in an ambulance, in critical condition, I dropped everything to get to you in time, but I got there, and you were gone? That I sobbed uncontrollably at your funeral, your mother and I held each other. Or…the fact that you thought it would be better to leave and never tell us that you were alive.” She felt tears in her eyes as she spoke. “What do you want to talk about, Alex?”

Alex closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she stood up to walk to Casey, raising her head to look at her. “I wanted to call. I tried to convince them so I could at least call you, and let you know that I was okay, and that…at some point I was going to come back.”

“Oh.” Casey scoffed. “That’s rich. You wanted to let me know that you were coming back at some point?” She shook her head. “You left me without a word, without a text, without a phone call. Did you just expect me not to move on?”

Alex felt her heart dropping as she stared at her. “You…you moved on?”

Casey tilted her head. “You wanted me to wait for you? You were dead to me, Alex! For two years I thought you were gone! I mourn you, I cried every night for you for so long, and you wanted me to not move on?!”

Alex was taken aback by Casey’s reaction, expecting her to be upset but not this upset. “No, I…I don’t know, Casey, I just…”

“I moved on, Alex. And it was the best decision that I could’ve made, because if I hadn’t listened to anyone, if I had…” she took a deep, shaky breath. “…if I had let myself get lost…I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

Alex let the tears roll down her face as she stared at Casey. “I’m so sorry.”

Casey nodded. “It’s a bit too late for that.”

Alex tilted her head as she sighed. “Casey.”

“I’m already in love with someone.” Casey smiled sadly. “And you know…before I dated you…I always thought that I would never want to fall again. For anyone. And you showed up and changed that. And then you…you were gone.” She shrugged as she nibbled on her lip. “I closed myself to that possibility, and then I met y/n.”

Alex nodded. “You’re dating y/n.”

Casey nodded. “I am. And I’m happy.” She smiled sadly. “I cannot hurt her. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“I should’ve called, no matter what they said.” Alex said softly as she looked down at her hands. “Maybe I wouldn’t have lost you.”

“We’ll never know.” Casey tried to put on a serious face as she crossed her arms.

Alex nodded as she sighed, wiping away her tears as she stared at Casey. “Okay.” She cleared her throat. “I am sorry, Casey. That I didn’t tell you that I was alive. It was not my decision, and I was…furious…about that decision. I understand you’re upset, and I am happy you moved. I’m sorry for the pain I caused.” She licked her lips. “After the case, I won’t bother you again.”

Casey nodded. “I’ll win this case. For Antonio…and for you.” She sniffled. “Just because I’m mad doesn’t mean that I don’t wanna get justice for you.”

“Casey.”

Olivia opened the door and stared at both women, y/n behind her. “Is…everything okay here?”

Casey turned to look at Olivia as she wiped her tears. “Yes. Alex is ready to go.”

Alex looked down at her hands and nodded. “Yeah.” She grabbed her bag and walked to Olivia. She then turned to look at y/n and smiled sadly. “Thank you.” She said softly before she walked out of Casey’s office.

Olivia looked at y/n confused but followed Alex, leaving y/n and Casey alone. Y/n turned to look at Casey. “Baby, you’re okay?”

Casey took a deep breath and then exhaled. “We…sort of talked.”

“Oh.” Y/n nodded. “Right.”

Casey tilted her head as she walked to y/n, taking her hand and the other went to y/n’s cheek, stroking it softly. “You know I love you, right?”

Y/n smiled. “And you loved her, Case. I don’t blame you.”

Casey sighed as she nodded. “She’s my past now.”

Y/n nodded as she stared into Casey’s eyes, smiling softly. “Ready to go?”

Casey smiled. “You’re still staying tonight?”

“Are you kidding? I was promised pizza, of course I’m staying.” Y/n grinned.

Casey rolled her eyes playfully as she turned to grab her briefcase and blazer, and then walked to y/n, grabbing her hand, and kissing the back of it. “Let’s go.”

********************

“On count two, the attempted murder in the first degree of Alexandra Cabot, what is your verdict?”

“Guilty.”

Casey closed her eyes and sighed in relief, looking down at her hands. She looked up at the judge and then stood up once they said they could leave. She stood up and put all of her stuff inside her briefcase before turning to look at everyone. Her eyes first landed on y/n who was already smiling at her, mouthing a ‘congrats’, which made Casey smile. And then her eyes went to Alex, who was saying something to Olivia before she looked at Casey, offering a smile. Casey sighed softly as she turned around to grab her briefcase and walk out of the courtroom. Casey walked to y/n and kissed her cheek softly.

“Congrats, Ms. Novak. I knew you’d win this case.” Y/n grinned softly.

“Thanks, detective. Wouldn’t have done it without your help.” Casey grinned and then looked back for a moment. “Would you uh…give me a moment?” She looked back at y/n as she smiled.

Y/n looked to where Casey had looked, and then smiled, looking back at Casey and nodding. “Sure. I’ll be by the elevator.”

Casey nodded. “Okay.” She smiled when y/n kissed her cheek and then walked away. She took a deep breath and walked to where Alex was standing with Hammond. “Give us a moment?” She looked at him.

“Go ahead.” Hammond said before he walked away.

Alex looked at Casey and smiled softly. “Thank you, Casey.”

“You’ll always have a special place in my heart, Alex.” Casey nibbled on her lip as she looked down at her hands. “Yes, I am hurt. But I also understand why you did this.” She looked back up at Alex as she sighed. “But…I moved on.”

Alex nodded. “I know.”

Casey nodded and offered a small smile. “You’re going back, aren’t you?”

Alex sighed and offered a small smile. “Yeah. They’re also giving Antonio a new identity.”

“That’s good.” Casey smiled.

“Thank you for giving us justice.” Alex smiled. “I knew you could do it.”

Casey smiled softly. “I always wanted to do this. And I’m happy I had the chance.”

“Take care, Case. It was…” Alex huffed a chuckle, holding back tears. “…it was so nice to see you again.”

Casey smiled sadly as she nodded. “It was nice seeing you too, Alexandra Cabot.” She offered a small smile before she turned around to leave.

Y/n sighed softly as she looked at the floor. She heard a pair of heels approaching her and she turned to find Casey walking to her. She smiled softly. “Done?”

Casey smiled and nodded, placing her hand on her cheek, and leaning in to kiss her lips softly. “Yeah. Mexican today?”

Y/n chuckled softly. “Sounds good to me.” She grabbed her hand and they walked to the elevator.

[notapradagurl7]

Talk To Me.

BlackFem!Reader x Joey Bada$$.

Summary: While the married couple were on their vacation in Barbados, for the past, Joey had been neglecting Y/N, when she finally communicated the problem between them. Y/N gets more than a reward.

‼️(choking, spanking, spitting, praise/degradation, fingering, BDSM, edging, sex toy.) ‼️

Taglist: @henneseyhoe @megamindsecretlair @siqueth @harmshake @flydotty @avoidthings @satoruya @soft-persephone

@caashmoneynae @sageispunkreads

@hxneyclouds @playgurlxoxo

@planetblaque @daprettycancer @keyera-jackson @partygetsmewetter-x

♡(Requested By  @naj-ay444 )♡

—————

As you stirred from your slumber, the gentle crashing of the blue waves and the screeching of seagulls greeted your ears. The sunlight peeked through thick beige curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. Your hand instinctively reached for him, but found only a cold, empty space. The four walls of the spacious bedroom were painted beige and adorned with a few paintings of melanated couples. In the close distance, you could hear his deep, slightly raspy voice from the kitchen. Irritation prickled at you as you smacked your lips and rolled your eyes.

You slid off the bed with your feet meeting the cool plush carpet as you walked into the kitchen to see your husband on the phone trying to handle work-related issues.

While on your vacation in Barbados, You and Jo-Vaughn faced a noticeable hiccup in your relationship. Despite being a married couple, Jo-Vaughn had been neglecting you for the past few months, prioritizing work and family over quality time with his wife. This recurring pattern of Jo-Vaughn being constantly needed by others had left you feeling overlooked and unimportant.

You have tried to communicate this little setback before but he doesn't get it.

Jo-Vaughn reclined in the soft beige armchair, his jet-black iPhone pressed to his ear. His chiseled chest and black sweatpants were draped around his legs, and the sunlight danced across his dark brown skin, his gold chain catching the light as his jewelry hung from his neck, swaying with each graceful movement of his slender body.

You saw a plain black tank top paired with matching shorts that pooled around your thick thighs, your brown eyes fixed on your husband. Your shoulder-length black locs were tied up in a bun, your hands were tucked snugly into your pockets, the drawstrings swaying gently with each step your took. Her dark brown skin shimmered in the sunlight.

You gently nestled yourself into Jo-Vaughn's lap, turning to face him directly. "Why don't we stay here for a few more days?" you proposed, your brow furrowed with concern. "Just to get your mind off work baby." you replied, your voice soft yet firm.

Jo-Vaughn shook his head at you, "No, I got—" he was cut off by himself continuing the conversation and you scoffed at your husband.

You stood up abruptly from his lap as Jo-Vaughn reached out to grab your wrist, snatching your hand from his grasp. You strode away with an attitude, leaving Jo-Vaughn perplexed and calling out after you. "Hol' on real quick—Y/N! Y/N!" His voice echoed through the spacious beach house.

You were glad that your husband purchased a private beach house instead, Despite Jo-Vaughn repeatedly calling out your name, you paid him no mind.

You sauntered over to the dresser, and picked up a book, sitting down on the outdoor lounge chair where the balcony was. As you leaned back and began reading the first chapter. Hoping that the words and the waves crashing on the shore would take your mind off of your husband's neglect.

With confusion clouding his mind, why were you so upset? Jo-Vaughn quickly makes another call, the first call was for work, "Hey, I will catch y'all later when I'm back in the States a'ight? Bye." he replied, ending the call with a push of his thumb.

The second yet final call was for his family, "I love y'all but please don't bother me till I get back from my trip. Ok, goodbye. Tell Indigo that Daddy loves her." he spoke, with a push of his thumb, he ended the call.

Jo-Vaughn sauntered through the house, he saw you on the balcony reading a book. Without warning, he swiftly snatched the book from your hands, causing your face to contort with annoyance.

"Wha-" You started to say, but Jo-Vaughn interrupted you by pointing towards the bedroom. "Get yo' ass in that room, now," he demanded, his voice laced with a sternness that brooked no argument.

You knelt in the center of the bed, your heart racing with anticipation. "Do you remember our safe word, my love?" Jo-Vaughn asked, his voice soothing. You nodded, your eyes fixed on his.

"Purple," You spoke. He carefully placed pillows behind his back and leaned against the headboard, Joey nestled himself between you with his legs under your stomach, his hand resting on the small of your back. With a gentle push, you sank onto his lap, your body melting into his touch.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Jo-Vaughn asked, his expression serious. You remained silent, refusing to speak. Jo-Vaughn firmly smacks your ass, the sound reverberating throughout the house. You bit your bottom lip and grasped the blankets tightly, still refusing to answer. you stifled a moan and tried to calm the heat between your thighs.

Jo-Vaughn gave another sharp smack to your ass, causing you to quiver and tears to well up in your eyes. He softened his face as he wiped your tears away with his thumbs and drew you close to him.

"You have been neglecting me for the past few months on our vacation. Your family and work have been getting in the way of our relationship Jo-Vaughn," You admitted, your voice quivering as you brushed away your tears and sniffled in between your sentences.

A pang hit him hard like a slap in the face at his wife's confession, he cupped your face tenderly, "I'm glad you told me that and I'm sorry," he said simply, looking into you eyes. "You're right, we should stay here for a few more days. Just you and me, no work baby." he apologizes, kissing your lips.

Your face softened at his words, and you leaned into his touch. "Okay, I forgive you." You spoke, a small smile playing at the edges of your lips. "But you owe me big time."

Jo-Vaughn chuckled, pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead. "Deal," he replied, feeling grateful for the chance to make things right with his wife.

"I think you need your punishment after you ignored me and refuse to communicate. Now tell me do you need it?" Jo-Vaughn asked you, his tongue running across his plump lips.

"Yes...I do."

——————

Your naked back pressed against the eggshell white bedsheets as your melanated skin brushed across the soft fabric, his fingers stroking in and out of your slick folds at a slow pace. The handcuffs on your wrists. You shivered as the cuffs clanked with each movement, trying to cover your face, your moans growing louder. His thumb grazed over your clit, moving in slow circles. Suddenly, he snatched your cuffed wrists and pinned them above your head, his grip tight and unyielding. With a quickening pace, he continued to stroke his fingers inside you, driving you crazy with the teasing.

Your mouth hung open, feeble whimpers escaping your lips as you cried out, "Oh fuck, Jo-Vaughn!" His fingers curled up inside you, and you curled your toes, your walls tightening around him. "Let me see that face, my pretty little slut." he spat, his hand sliding between your breasts to knead them roughly, your nipples hardening under his touch. You felt your juices trickling down your thighs, and you rolled your hips against his fingers, rubbing your thighs together in desperation. "Please, I need to cum," you whined, tears streaming down your cheeks. But Jo-Vaughn parted your legs using his knee, his eyes fixed on your face as you contorted in pleasure.

Jo-Vaughn was edging you, He knew exactly how to tease you, how to bring you to the brink and hold her there, suspended in a state of desire that threatened to consume you. You could feel the pressure building inside you, but you shook underneath him.

"Why should you cum when you've been bad baby? " Jo-Vaughn whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "You need to learn your lesson first."

Your essence coated his fingers as it dripped onto the sheets, and his palm smacked your ass roughly, causing his wife to let out a squeal. Plunged his fingers deeper into you, his tip kissed your cervix with precision. "Oh–shit! Jo—fuck!" you screamed, your buried your face in the pillow, drool trickling from your lips as your eyes fluttered closed. He peppered your skin with open-mouthed kisses, leaving hickeys. "You're doing amazing, baby," Jo-Vaughn cooed, releasing your neck as he rubbed your swollen clit. You clung to the bedsheets for dear life, unable to contain the intensity of the pleasure.

You moaned his name, "Jo-Vaughn! Please, I need to cum—" your hips moved slowly against his fingers as he latched his hand around the curve of your neck, his demand firm. "Open your mouth," Jo-Vaughn commanded. You obeyed, and he spat into your mouth before kissing you roughly. With a wicked grin, he finally relented. "You can come now beautiful," he purred. The knot in your stomach tightened, and you came hard. Your release was explosive, and the bed was soaked with your juices. You trembled, gasping for air, as the mind-blowing orgasm left you shaken.

Panting, you collapsed back against the bed, your body spent and sated. Jo-Vaughn removed the handcuffs, gently stroking your wrists as she came down from your high. Kissing your hand as if you were a queen in a fairytale.

"You good?" he asked, his voice soft and caring.

You nodded weakly, a lazy smile spreading across your face. "More than good," you replied. "That was amazing."

Jo-Vaughn darkly chuckles as he kisses your forehead, "I'm not done with you yet."

"C-can you get the vibrator from the dresser?" you panted, your chest heaving up and down. He hummed in reply, Jo-Vaughn grabbed the vibrator from inside the dresser with a sly smirk across his face, "You ready? He asked, his tone deepened. He pulled off his sweatpants and boxers, allowing them to hit the carpet.

You looked up at him, your eyes hazy with desire. "Yes," you breathed. "I'm ready."

He turned on the vibrator, its low buzz filling the room as he positioned it against your clit. You moaned, arching her back off the bed, "Ouuu! F-fuckk!" you sobbed, your nails sunk into his triceps as you left a trail of marks on his dark skin, hissing through his teeth, he rolled the vibrator around your clit. "I think you deserve a reward." he cooed, his hand cupping your cheek, kissing you passionately. Jo-Vaughn lined his dick towards your wet vulva and gradually slid in between your swollen folds, relishing the sensation of your tight walls clenching around him.

"Damn...this pussy is so pretty and perfect, just like you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on your temple as he began to move his hips in a slow, but forceful rhythm. You shivered from the familiar feeling of him inside of you, your husband continued to thrust into you, he deftly maneuvered the vibrator around your sensitive clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from you. Y/N's arms wrapped tightly around his neck as your hips bucked against him, body trembling with pleasure. "Yes, right there! Don't stop!" you gasped, your voice strained with ecstasy.

Jo-Vaughn quickened his thrusts, your nails dug into his back, and threw your head back onto the pillow. With practiced ease, you took every inch of him. "You're so beautiful," he groaned deeply, biting his lips. He adjusted the vibrator to a faster pace, circling it over your swollen clit, eliciting loud, raspy screams from you. Despite the ache and swelling, your pussy clenched and creamed around him, bringing you closer to release. Tears welled in your eyes, but you pushed through, determined to reach your peak.

On the verge of a release, You whined softly to the tightening in your stomach, you could feel the beads of sweat dripping from your forehead, "I'm cumming!" you hollered, Jo-Vaughn felt your impending orgasm and picked up the pace, slamming into you with abandon as he rubbed the vibrator over your clit. "Come for me, baby," he groaned deeply, his own orgasm building within him. The skin-to-skin slapping filled the room, you jerked as you cried out, your orgasm exploding through her body. You creamed onto his dick with your essence covering him entirely, Jo-Vaughn followed suit, his own release crashing through him as he spilled his warm cum inside you. Filling you up completely in the process.

Jo-Vaughn withdrew from you and collapsed on top of his wife, the two of you both panted for breath, your bodies slick with sweat and used-up passion. Jo-Vaughn rolled off you, pulling his lover into his arms as they both lay on the soaked sheets. "I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you too," You replied, snuggling into his embrace. Jo-Vaughn slid off the bed as he scooped his wife up in his arms bridal style, sauntering into the bathroom and kissing your cheek, you shook weakly in his arms, "Let's take a bath baby girl." he added, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies, you giggled at your husband.

—————

His naked back rested against the rim of the white marble bathtub as you sank into the soapy foam, surrounding them up to their shoulders. He lifted you by your thighs, pulling you close and your breasts rested against his chest. The bathroom was filled with the sweet fragrance of peppermint from the three candles glowing in the corner of the medium-sized room. The gentle splashing of water echoed throughout, accompanied by the soft melody of D'Angelo's "Lady" playing in the background. Gently, he massaged your shoulders and thighs, soothing the aches and pains that you held.

The memory of his wife's confession lingered in his thoughts, Jo-Vaughn gently cleansed your back with a green washcloth. Your winced and flinched in pain. "My bad, I'm so sorry for neglectin' you, Y/N. I promise to make it up to you in every possible way baby," he spoke in a gentle and remorseful tone as he applied pressure to your shoulders with his other hand. "We don't have to leave our vacation anytime soon," he reassured you, leaving sweet kisses on your collarbone and jawline.

Y/N leaned back into his embrace, your eyes closed as you savored the warmth of the water and the feeling of your husband's hands on your skin. "I know you will, baby," you replied, your voice laced with contentment. "I trust you."

They remained in the bathtub for a while, enjoying each other's company and the peaceful silence that surrounded them. As they got out and dried off, Jo-Vaughn pulled his wife in for a deep kiss, his hands roaming over your body possessively. "Let's get some sleep, my love," he whispered against your lips, his eyes glinting with joy.

Y/N grinned, your hands trailing down his chest. "Good to hear, I'm sore baby," you replied, your voice gentle yet you chuckle.

With that, they made their way back to the bedroom, snuggling together in the brand-new sheets as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

————

[pedrito-friskito]

// track 1 - fortnight //

-> welcome officially to TTWD! (kay’s version). first on our track list is some sweet, smutty lovin’ from my favourite lover boy, marcus pike🤍

word count: 2.5k

warnings: drinking, meet-cute, unprotected p-in-v (wrap it before u tap it), marcus is a pleasure dom we all know this, kay knows nothing about the FBI LOL

Marcus has always hated paperwork. Finds it tedious, though he knows it’s necessary, but he loathes it, much preferring to celebrate a job well done than to rehash his assignment alone in his office.

It’s that exact hatred that had him sneaking out of the building, heading in the direction of the bar not far from his temporary workplace, one he’d visited earlier in the week with a few friends.

He’s only here for a few weeks, two to be exact. And with the way things are going, he has a feeling he’ll be heading back to Washington earlier than anticipated. He doesn’t mind the travel, it’s always been a perk of the job, though he knows it’s probably part of the reason he has yet to settle down.

After the fiasco in Austin with Robin, he’d sworn off dating for a while. Washington was a fresh start in every sense, but no sooner had he unpacked his bag, they were sending him to Maine on a job, then to Seattle, then Colorado, then Tulsa, the list went on and on. For a stretch of at least four months, he hadn’t even set foot in his apartment, living out of a bag and becoming far too accustomed to sleeping on those godawful chairs in the airport.

Seattle had been a highlight, however.

You were the commanding officer of your division, as much of an art geek as Marcus, and damn good at your job. Marcus had fallen easily into step beside you, and his week-long visit was shorted to a weekend after your success, but he found himself lingering, hesitant to tell his own CO that the job was done. He knew the news would make its way up the flagpole regardless, but he wanted to stay.

Wanted to know you better.

You let him, the pair of you starting with a dinner that was so full of conversation that you didn’t realize the place was closing until your polite-as-hell waiter gently suggested you head across the street to a 24-hour diner with the best cup of coffee in the city. You’d headed over, Marcus holding an umbrella over you both against the sudden downpour.

He lost count of the cups of coffee, enraptured by the way your hand kept inching closer to his on the tabletop, how your gaze flickered between his mouth and his eyes. On a whim, he reached out, curling his fingers around yours and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

The rain outside had thinned to a drizzle, and he leaned across the table. “You wanna get out of here?”

It was you who ended up taking him home, to the small house near the coast you called home. “Much nicer than whatever hotel they have you in, I can guarantee,” you commented as you fumbled with the lock.

The moment you were over the threshold, he had your face in his hands and was brushing his mouth over yours, the taste of coffee lingering on both your tongues, Marcus stepping forward so you would step back, until your shoulders hit the wall and he could press himself against you.

You took him to bed, and called in the next day, more content to spend the day with him. You didn’t leave the bedroom much, and the week progressed like that, wrapped up in sex and conversation and coffee, until Marcus’s phone rang and the bubble popped.

“We need you in Colorado. Your flight leaves in four hours.”

He saw it move through your face, then you shrugged and said, “It’s the job. I get it.”

He didn’t want to leave. But he had to. You said over and over that you understood, and when he asked if you could stay in touch, that maybe this could work, your eyes clouded.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Marcus.”

Crushed, he got himself drunk in the airport bar, and by morning, he had a new assignment, and knew he had to put you behind him.

Fate, however, seems to have another plan in mind.

Stepping into the bar, he sighs, heading toward the same stool he’d occupied a few nights ago, when a familiar face catches his eye. His heart stutters in his chest as he reaches his seat, letting his suit jacket slide off his shoulders.

Your hair is shorter than he remembers — maybe a trim, maybe his mind is playing tricks on him — but the rest is the same. Better, somehow, like a restored painting in his mind as he drinks you in again like it’s the first time. Perched at the bar, your fingers curled around a glass, one heeled foot floating in the air. 

He recognizes those heels. He took you out for dinner another night in Seattle, and when you got home that night, he told you to keep them on. And you did. He felt the marks in his back for weeks, but it was worth it.

He orders a scotch, knowing he’s going to need more than a little courage. But how is he going to play this? What’s the best way to—

“Marcus?”

You’ve made the decision for him, your excited gaze meeting his across the few stools separating you. There’s a light in your eyes he remembers, knows you’ve probably had more than one drink, and that your next will be water. You had a system, he remembers you telling him.

The bartender slides him his drink, and Marcus takes it over to where you’re sitting, sinking into the stool beside you. “Fancy meeting you here.”

You grin wider. “Of all the gin joints in all the world…”

His heart does that stuttering thing again. “You finally watched Casablanca?”

“I did,” you reply, nodding, looking up at him through your lashes. “Cried like a baby.”

“Told you.” Tossing back some of his scotch, he signals the bartender to bring you a water. “I can’t believe it.”

You’re still smiling, your head cocked slightly to the side. “You know, I had the strangest feeling I was going to run into you? It sounds insane, I’m sure.”

“Not insane,” he shakes his head, setting his glass down inches from yours. If he straightened his fingers, he could brush the tips along yours. “I’m calling it fate.”

“Fate?”

He nods, taking a healthy sip of his drink. Liquid courage. “I’ve been wanting to call you since I left Seattle.”

You scoff. “It’s been three months, Marcus.”

He leans forward, contemplating putting his hand on your knee but thinking better of it. “I know, and I feel awful. I just…didn’t know what to say. When I left, it didn’t exactly sound like you wanted to hear from me again.”

“I didn’t,” you say bluntly, sipping your drink and mumbling thank you as the bartender brings you your water. “It wasn’t going to work; we both knew that.”

“And yet, here we are.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Fate, huh?”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Or something like it. I’ve missed you. A week wasn’t nearly long enough.”

Your gaze meets his and lingers, flickering between his mouth and his eyes. “How long are you in town for?”

“Two weeks,” he answers. “Maybe less. I’m on assignment, but I plan to stay right through. Been slacking on my paperwork. Then once I get back to Washington, I’m hoping to stay in one spot for a while. What about you?”

“Two weeks,” you echo, and he grins.

“Fate, I tell you.”

“We shouldn’t do this again,” you say, leaning back slightly, your brow pinching. “Rekindle what we had just to have it pulled away again? It isn’t fair, Marcus.”

Defeat sinks onto him like a weighted blanket around his shoulders, and he tosses back the rest of his drink, the glass feeling like lead in his hand. “You’re right, it’s not—”

“We shouldn’t,” you cut him off, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

Before he can get another word out, you’ve got your fingers curled around his tie, tugging him down your level. Your lips are soft, tasting faintly of lime and mint, and Marcus can’t help himself. His free hand dives into your hair, fingers locking around the strands, tugging until your lips part against his and he can kiss you more thoroughly, tongue stroking yours.

You pull back with a soft moan, still gripping his tie. “You wanna get out of here?”

Twenty minutes later, he’s pushing the door of his hotel room open, your fingers linked together. 

“Don’t mind the mess,” he starts, but barely gets the words out as the door shuts behind you. It’s his back that hits the wall, a low grunt falling past his lips as you tug on his tie again, using it as leverage to drag yourself closer, closing the distance between your bodies.

Marcus groans as you fit your face into his neck, teeth scraping his pulse as his hands find homes on your hips. Clothes start to fall away, landing in puddles of fabric on the floor until you’re both bare and falling into his unmade bed together. He lays you out on your back, trails kisses right down the front of you, over each hip and along the inside of your thigh. He doesn’t stop until you’re keening, back arching and one hand locked in his hair.

You’re soaked when he strokes his fingers along you, his name sung like a prayer when he presses them inside you. “Fuck,” he grits, curling up and dragging slow, watching the way your body reacts, the way it shapes to him. “Just as tight as I remember.”

You whimper, head falling back as he pushes deeper, seeking out that rough patch inside you, remembering how it made you fall apart before. The hand not in his hair shoots down, fingers wrapped around his wrist, forcing him deeper.

He lowers himself, kneeling at the edge of the bed, surveying how you’re spread out before him, your knee hooked over his arm. “Look at you,” he purrs, dragging his mouth along your thigh again. He can feel your muscles twitch, see the way your breath chokes out. “What do you need, sweet thing?”

Body writhing, your head lifts just enough for your eyes to meet.

“More.”

He’s more than happy to oblige, lowering his mouth to your cunt, laving his tongue around the place you’re split around his fingers. You moan loudly, one hand clapping over your mouth a moment later, and he snakes his free hand up your chest, squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple between his knuckles.

“I want to hear you,” he mumbles against you, moving up ever so slightly to suck your clit between his lips. It makes your whole body go tighter than sin, bearing down on his fingers as your breath hitches. He doesn’t stop, swirling his tongue against your clit, releasing it only to lap at you over and over, his fingers never stopping until you go tighter still, every muscle going taut as you cum, his name moaned over and over until your body starts to go lax.

He pulls his fingers from you slowly, still tonguing at your cunt as he does, pulling away only when you push lightly at his head. He stands slowly, cock hard as a rock against his stomach, and watches your eyes roam up his body as he licks his fingers clean.

“Come here,” you beckon as he leans over the bed, planting a hand on either side of you. Your hand curls around the back of his neck, pulling him close. “I still need more, Marcus.”

He doesn’t make you wait long, using his knees to spread your thighs further. His cock taps against your cunt as he lowers his body to yours, and you gasp, finding his mouth with yours. He drinks down your noises as he presses himself inside of you, the pleasure snaking down his spine like a memory.

He’ll be the first to admit that this is what he’s thought of these last three months. You, underneath him, your body soft and pliant and his. It hasn’t been far from his mind, playing like a movie in his mind whenever he’s taken care of himself.

But just like seeing you again in the bar, this is another thing entirely.

Your body accepts everything he has to offer, your heels hooking around his calves, hips rocking up into his. You’re still so fucking tight, and he knows he’s not going to last long, knows that’s why he made sure you came first.

The room fills with the sound of skin-on-skin, with your breathy moans and his quiet grunts. You hook one hand under his ribs, the other finding the back of his head and tugging at his hair, putting your gaze to his. “I want to hear you, too,” you tell him, a sly smile on your face, and he nearly cums on the spot.

He didn’t need the permission, but it unlocks him all the same, the quiet grunts growing louder until he’s all but growling your name in your ear, fitting his face into your neck and biting down as he feels the pleasure coil tighter and tighter until he knows he’s about to cum.

It starts to rip its way through him, and he pulls himself from you, painting the crease of your thigh with his cum, chest heaving. You watch him, eyes darting between his face and his twitching cock. The look on your face tells him you have other plans for him.

Good, because he’s got other plans for you, too.

And fuck the two weeks, he’s not letting you go again.

As you both come down, Marcus having retrieved a cloth from the bathroom to clean you up, both of you sharing. a glass of water, your face turns sheepish as you hand him back the water. “What is it?”

Your mouth opens, closes, and then opens again. “You know how I said I thought I was going to run into you earlier? I think the reason I was feeling that…was because I’ve been meaning to call you, too. Since you left, I wanted to call you, and then something happened and I just…”

“What happened?” he asks, sinking onto the bed beside where you’re laid out, pillow bunched under your arm, head tilted into your hand.

“I got a job offer,” you say, and before he can congratulate you, you lift a hand. “I got a job offer, and you were the first person I wanted to call, but I wasn’t sure if I should. Because it’s been three months and you’re amazing and I kept telling myself you found someone else and that was why you never called. But then I got this job offer, and I…”

You trail off, shaking your head, staring him down. “What’s the job, sweet thing?” he asks, reaching out and putting his hand on your leg, covered by the blanket.

The sheepishness disappears and you grin. “It’s in Washington.”

// TTWD track list //