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#you should see my search history
buglaur · 9 months
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she's live
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now you can see what everyones height is in my head because i refuse to download height sliders. look at ass <3
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heich0e · 1 year
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What’s on your mind today Livie 🫶🏼
i know this is probably not what you're looking to hear but today i have been thinking a lot about paul delaroche's 1883 painting the execution of lady jane grey
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slithymomerath · 8 months
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Does anyone have advice for buying a strap-on? I’ve never bought one before. Is it better to go to an in-person store or online? Are there brands that are known to be good quality? I like gathering opinions on Tumblr, but it won’t let me search for nsfw terms like “strap-on advice”. If y’all have any mutuals who might have advice about this, it’d be awesome if you could tag them or direct me to their blog.
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hiddenbeks · 4 months
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so many thoughts abt how schewpid the jedi council is in kotor but also not sure if i should write abt any of them before i finish the game because it's entirely possible that i'm still missing some critical information,
#el plays kotor#blease blacklist that tag if u dont wanna see kotor spoiler stuff from me as i play the game#feels silly to warn abt spoilers for such an old game but. i only found out abt [redacted] a couple yrs ago#completely by accident. it didnt ruin my desire to finish the game and see how the story goes#but still. it did change the whole experience. and what if there r others out there who dont know yet. so. KOTOR SPOILERS AHEAD !!!!!#so anyway i was thinking. why would the jedi council send revan to find the star maps. when they strongly suspect that#the search for the maps was what corrupted revan and malak in the first place???#im assuming they want their new totally-not-revan padawan to succeed and stop malak????#and yet?? they didnt think to consider the possibility of revan falling to the dark side Again during this quest????#love how the jedi archivist/historian says the 'those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it' thing#and im just thinking. so true bestie. you should take your own advice maybe. lol. lmao even#like yes they've brainwashed revan but what makes them so confident that amnesiac revan won't go down the same path as before#wouldn't that be more likely even. because. revan does not remember their history.#and since they don't remember their history... they have nothing to learn from... and thus... could repeat their mistakes...#ok wait i just remembered that the historian gives amnesiac revan a lecture abt what revan and malak did#so yes they do get a history lesson to keep in mind and to learn something from.#but its still so...... the council has no way of being certain their master plan will succeed... they are taking a huge gamble here...#and sure capturing revan without wiping their mind was probably not an option to the council#bc revan would have simply refused to cooperate i guess. much easier to mold an empty mind :)#wow wow wow i hate the jedi order actually. yes the sith do these things too and also their color scheme is dark and thus they r Evil#but when the jedi with their light earthy tones do it its ok. because they are servants of the light. guardians of justice or whatev. sigh#also the council repeatedly warns revan abt the dangers of the dark side n how the force is so strong in revan n they need to be careful#and that they are 'willful and headstrong'. qualities that are potentially dangerous for a jedi to have. because Emotion Bad#and still the council just goes 'the warning signs are there but we have elected to ignore them :) surely it will be fine this time :)' ???#i think i need to stop thinking abt this its giving me psychic damage#there Must be something later down the line that makes this decision make sense. they cant be this stupif
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thesoftboiledegg · 2 years
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What makes JKR's shitshow even harder to process is that she didn't just ruin a book series. Harry Potter was an entire subculture. Like Star Wars and Star Trek fans, Harry Potter fans dedicated their lives and careers to the series. I don't know if I'd call it "underground," but liking Harry Potter got you beaten up when I was in school, so it was more of a dedicated indie culture than a mass-appeal fanbase.
Harry Potter was so huge that fan works developed their own followings. Potter Puppet Pals racked up hundreds of thousands of followers and was nearly as relevant as the series itself. For fanfiction, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality got so big that it has a Wikipedia page. The band Harry and the Potters spawned the wizard rock music genre. A Very Potter Musical developed a fanbase and launched Darren Criss's career.
Harry Potter also has extensive ties to fandom history. Everyone in my generation (millennials) remembers coming home from school to read Harry Potter fanfiction on the Internet. Today, most people just post their stories on Wattpad or Archive of Our Own. But at the time, the fanbase was splintered between fanfiction.net and dozens of individual websites and forums, some made for specific ships. Since they all had individual hosts, a lot of those sites have been lost to time.
And there's the infamous My Immortal fanfiction, which is an Internet legend with people still searching for the author. Everybody read that one (and laughed at it) in middle school.
Pre-social media, fan sites like The Leaky Cauldron and Mugglenet had massive followings because they were one of few sources for news, theories, essays and fan content. Some of these sites still exist after being around for over a decade and building their own legacy.
Before Deathly Hallows came out, fans were so desperate to know what happened that Mugglenet published a book called What Will Happen in Harry Potter 7: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Falls in Love and How Will the Adventure Finally End? Yep...Harry Potter was so big that people wrote separate books about what would happen in an upcoming book.
And that's not mentioning all the book release parties, Harry Potter-themed events, monuments, fan films, restaurants and even a theme park. A lot of fandoms have those, but Harry Potter infiltrated every aspect of popular culture.
Today, there's a thriving culture of "Harry Potter adults" with themed weddings, baby showers and Etsy stores. Putting your Hogwarts house in your Instagram bio is pretty much a prerequisite for joining the "bookish" community. Warner still produces new content, like the Fantastic Beasts series, although we've all seen what a disaster that's been.
Everyone has at least a few memories associated with Harry Potter even if it's just watching the movies. I had great memories associated with Harry Potter. But looking back at the subculture, history and thousands of fan works, it doesn't seem fun anymore. Studying the fandom or being part of it comes with an awkward tension because you don't want to seem like you're condoning JKR's bigotry but can't divorce her from the series. This subculture was spawned by a woman who turned her legacy of magic and wonder into one of abuse and hatred.
I don't expect people to write paragraphs about how much they hate JKR every time they post about Harry Potter, but it's still uncomfortable to see people make new content or wear their Harry Potter Etsy tote bags like nothing happened. Even if they clarify that they don't support her, it's just a weird, tense situation for everybody.
People dedicated years of their lives to running Harry Potter fan sites, writing fanfiction, cosplaying characters and making fan movies. If I were in that situation, I'd have a mild identity crisis. I'd ask myself "Did I waste all those years? Should I delete my content? Where do I go from here?"
So ultimately, JKR didn't ruin "just" a book series or even "just" a fandom. She tanked an entire culture, which inspired people to look at Harry Potter more critically. The issues that people brought to the light tainted the series's legacy even without JKR's personal issues.
Once, Harry Potter was a series for generations. Now, former fans hope that the series fades into irrelevancy. Unfortunately, JKR didn't just tarnish her legacy--she took decades of history, millions of fans and a worldwide subculture along with her.
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Lesson 1: "White Man Painted Black"?
Okay, I recognize that this is a strong foot to step off on! But! If you learn nothing else from this series, if you decide for whatever reason to forsake me: this is the ONE perspective I'd like you to take away!
You may have heard this quote before, when Black fans deride a character design as 'a white man with the brown bucket tool'. On its face, it means exactly what was said. But specifically, what it means is that we recognize that whomever designed the character drew the way they normally draw for a 'default' character in their mind- default usually meaning White/Eurocentric features- and they added a shade of brown within the line art to make that character now 'Black'.
Now if you're feeling defensive, wait just a moment! This discomfort is not inherently a bad thing!
I'm going to use both a 'real world' example first, to show you what your Black fans and peers are seeing, and perhaps you will also understand our discomfort!
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(if anyone was curious, my folder for this lesson is titled 'brad' lmao and you'll see why)
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(I'll have y'all know that I actually worked very hard to make Blackface Brad look mildly presentable lmao I'm sorry, I'm wheezing, I can hardly breathe looking at him 🤣)
You see how, despite knowing where this was going, and using one of the darkest shades of brown in my Skin Tones arsenal, you still know that that's Brad Pitt? That nothing about his hair texture, his lips, his nose, or really anything other than the palette change... changed? And you can still see that?
It's incredibly hurtful to be told that that's supposed to be you. You know it's not, you know why it's not, but rather than hearing how it makes you feel unseen and what they could do to be better (since they wanted to draw a Black character!), the artist lashes out at you.
And as an artist, you might have worked VERY HARD to do this! That might be a real handsome guy you drew!! But... is he really Black? Did you walk into it with the intention, that you were drawing a Black Character, or did you draw a character that just happened to be Black? It seems like a silly thing, but it matters!
Okay. I just finished laughing over Brad. Now let's get into some more perspective changes:
Now, imagine you drew a character. You want to make her Black, so you change the hair and skin colors. All right! You have your Black character... right?
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Changed ONE feature about her? (You should obviously change more than one feature, but let's just go with the simplified example.)
What if, instead of just changing her palette, we changed her:
Hair?
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There isn't nearly enough time in the world, let alone in this little scribble and blurb, for me to describe the IMPORTANCE of Black hair in Black character design. There are so many ways to do curls, afros, braids, twists, locs, SO MANY HAIRSTYLES!! Get used to searching in the 3C-4C hair textures!!!! I plan on doing an entire lesson or two on hair alone, but suffice it to say, Hair Texture is thee BIGGEST giveaway that you 'painted a white person Black'- from cartoon styles to realistic! It reveals itself in your writing as well- just based on how your character takes care of their hair, how your describe the texture, how other people might perceive it... it lets me know just how much research was done. Because we can have straight hair! But again, that's a conversation for a whole 'nother lesson so- come back later 👀?
Lips?
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I love our lips, I really do. There's a long history of shaming Black women in particular for the way our lips look. So when I see them done in all their glory, it makes me very happy. Two-toned lips vary in shade and intensity, so make sure you're using references if you want to be 'realistic', but it doesn't have to be that hard. Even a little subtle shift like this in the design/story description lets me know that a creator was thinking about me.
Nose?
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One thing I've noticed ever since I starting drawing is that... people in a lot of mangas/manhwas barely have noses! I admit, out of all the features on the face, the nose isn't the most important. I think they should be, especially when you want to emphasize that your characters look different! People have different types of noses! I especially want to gear this towards those with a goal of drawing realistic portraits and the like- there, the nose is ANOTHER dead giveaway. There are Black people with aquiline and straight noses- we aren't a monolith- but is that why you drew it? Consider why you went for that nose specifically. That's part of the intent, in all this!
Now, you might be looking at me and going "Ice... this is just character design". To which my answer is: Yes! It is! It feels so basic, and yet if you ask your Black friends/peers how often they've come across this feeling of not being properly drawn/written, from fanart to professionally produced works, it's unfortunately common despite how simple of a concept it is.
I hope that you can walk away from my first lil lesson with new eyes. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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mikeo56 · 2 months
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I watched the uncensored video of US airman Aaron Bushnell self-immolating in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington while screaming “Free Palestine”. I hesitated to watch it because I knew once I put it into my mind it’s there for the rest of my life, but I figured I owe him that much. 
I feel like I’ve been picked up and shaken, which I suppose was pretty much what Bushnell was going for. Something to shake the world awake to the reality of what’s happening. Something to snap us out of the brainwashed and distracted stupor of western dystopia and turn our gaze to Gaza.
The sounds stay with you more than the sights. The sound of his gentle, youthful, Michael Cera-like voice as he walked toward the embassy. The sound of the round metal container he stored the accelerant in getting louder as it rolls toward the camera. The sound of Bushnell saying “Free Palestine”, then screaming it, then switching to wordless screams when the pain became too overwhelming, then forcing out one more “Free Palestine” before losing his words for good. The sound of the cop screaming at him to get on the ground over and over again. The sound of a first responder telling police to stop pointing guns at Bushnell’s burning body and go get fire extinguishers.
He remained standing for an unbelievable amount of time while he was burning. I don’t know where he got the strength to do it. He remained standing long after he’d stopped vocalizing.
Bushnell was taken to the hospital, where independent reporter Talia Jane reports that he has died. It was about as horrific a death as a human being can experience, and it was designed to be. 
Shortly before his final act in this world, Bushnell posted the following message on Facebook:
“Many of us like to ask ourselves, ‘What would I do if I was alive during slavery? Or the Jim Crow South? Or apartheid? What would I do if my country was committing genocide?’ “The answer is, you’re doing it. Right now.”
Aaron Bushnell has provided his own answer to this challenge. We’re all providing our own right now.
I would never do what Bushnell did, and I would never recommend anyone else does either. That said, I also can’t deny that his action is having its intended effect: drawing attention to the horrors that are happening in Gaza.
I know this is true because everywhere I see Aaron Bushnell being discussed online I see a massive deluge of pro-Israel trolls frantically swarming the comments in a mad rush to manipulate the narrative. They all understand how destructive it is to US and Israeli information interests for people to be seeing an international news story about a member of the US Air Force self-immolating on camera while screaming “Free Palestine”, and they are doing everything they can to mitigate that damage.
As I write this, there are with absolute certainty people digging through Bushnell’s history searching for dirt that can be spun as evidence that he was a bad person, that he was mentally ill, that he was steered astray by pro-Palestine activists and dissident media — whatever they can make stick. If they find something, literally anything, the smearmeisters and propagandists will run with it as far as they can.
That’s what they’re choosing to do at this point in history. That’s what they would have done during slavery, or the Jim Crow south, or apartheid. That’s what they’re doing while their country commits genocide right now. People are showing what they would have done with their response to Gaza, and they’re showing what they would have done with their response to the self-immolation of Aaron Bushnell.
I’m not going to link to the video here; watching it is a personal decision on which you should probably do your own legwork to make sure it’s really what you want. Whether you watch it or not, it happened, just like the incineration of Gaza is happening right now. We each own our personal response to that reality. This is who we are.
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lendeah · 3 months
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Three times you take care of Astarion and one time he takes care of you
[ao3 link]
You were a caring person. That much was clear from the first moment you let him drink off you, almost to death. It was also clear when you tried to cool Karlach down with a rainy spell so you could hug her. Or give Gale every piece of magic item in your inventory so he could eat it. You enjoyed taking care of people.
However, taking care of Astarion wasn't an easy task. As much as you wanted to be there for him and help him, the vampire was a difficult person to handle. He was like a wild animal, constantly on edge and ready to lash out. It soon became clear that Astarion wasn't used to being on the receiving end of caring. Wasn't used for someone to care at all.
So you went little by little, as to not startle him. You started by simply spending time with him. Patiently listening to his endless complaints and blatant flirting, offering a sympathetic ear and a playful response, respectively. It was clear that Astarion enjoyed your company, even if he didn't always show it. He would often make snarky comments or sarcastic remarks, but you could tell that deep down, he appreciated having someone around.
Of course, you let him drain you dry every night, which honestly left you sick and tired through the day, but it was worth the glint in his eyes and the way his cheeks seemed to light up as if he was alive again.
You couldn't help but notice; he always had a book in his hands. Whether you were at camp or out on an expedition, he was constantly reading. So you began collecting every book you stumbled upon and leaving them on his bedroll for him to find when he returned to his tent. No matter the genre- whether it was a history book, poetry or even erotica- you always gifted them to him.
The first times, he would search around the camp in confusion, wondering who had left them there for him. But after the fifth or sixth book, the vampire's expression would light up with a secretive smile as he eagerly flipped through the pages. It warmed your heart to see him so engrossed in a story, his curiosity evident in his shining eyes. However, you kept your identity hidden: if he knew it was you leaving the books, he might become wary again and you didn't want to risk it after coming this far. This went on for a few weeks until one day, as you were leaving another book, a voice called out from behind you.
"Well, hello there. I suppose the game is up."
You froze, the book still in your hands, as you turned around to see Astarion standing with a sly smile on his face.
"I... erm, I just found these books lying around and thought they might be yours," you said lamely.
He smirked, eyes narrowing as if he saw right through your excuses. "Funny, I don't recall owning any of these books you are holding."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "Oh...I must have made a mistake then."
But Astarion just shook his head, walking closer to you until he was within arm's reach. "You think I don't know what you're doing? You haven't exactly been subtle, sweetheart."
You felt your face heat up even more, the blush reaching your ears.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your voice came out a little squeaky.
Astarion chuckled. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I might suspect that you were trying to seduce me. If you wanted to come into my tent, all you had to do was ask, my dear."
"I-It... It's not like that!" you sputtered out, trying to avoid eye contact with him. "I just thought... you like reading."
"Oh, I do," Astarion said in a low voice. "Among other things."
You swallowed hard as your mind raced. Had he just... Was he implying what you thought he was implying?
"I-I should really get going," you said quickly, turning away from him and almost tripping over your own feet.
But before you could run off, Astarion's hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. "Wait," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. His expression was a bit serious, a stark contrast to the playful persona he usually wore. "Thanks for the effort. It's almost sweet, doing all this for me."
The two of you stood there for a moment longer before Astarion spoke up again.
"Perhaps we could have a little fun and read them together sometime?" he suggested with a raised eyebrow.
You smiled shyly at him, feeling butterflies in your stomach at his offer.
"I... I would love that," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.
Astarion's smile widened and he released your wrist. "Wonderful. I look forward to it, my dear. And I do hope the next book is a good one."
You walked away from his tent, trying to convince yourself that the thumping of your heart was simply due to your love for taking care of others.
With each passing day, your meetings with Astarion in his tent became a familiar routine. You allowed him to feed on you, then spent time reading together from the books you had collected for him. It was also a chance for you to study him closely, searching for any other way to care for him. One night, as he read aloud to you, the soothing sound of his voice lulled you into a peaceful slumber, curled up on his bedroll next to him. The next morning, as sunlight flooded the tent, you woke up to find Astarion already awake, holding a book in his hands.
"Good morning," you said, rubbing the sleep off your eyes. "Sorry I fell asleep here."
Astarion raised an eyebrow at you. "No need to apologize. I must say, you look quite lovely when you're sleeping. Although you do not sound that lovely, but well, we can't all be perfect."
You rolled your eyes, then sat up stretching your limbs. As you glanced around the room, your eyes landed on the book in his hand - the one you two had been reading last night. It was almost finished now.
"Wait, you haven't slept?"
He let out a soft laugh.
"My dear, I am an elf. We do not sleep; we trance. And to answer your inquiry, no, I did not partake in that either. It's not something I typically find enjoyable."
You looked at Astarion with confusion and concern. "But... why? Don't you need to rest?"
He gave a casual shrug. "If I enter into a trance, the only memories accessible to me are my own life experiences. And let me tell you, those are not pleasant memories."
"But isn't there a way for you to... just rest? Without the memories, I mean?" You asked.
Astarion smirked, his eyes still fixed on the book in his hands. "Why bother learning how to sleep when I can trance instead?" he quipped "Trancing has always been my preferred method anyway."
You couldn't imagine what it was like, being forced to relive your trauma over and over again every night.
"I’m so sorry, Astarion," you whispered, your voice barely above a hush.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh well," he said, "It's all in the past now, isn't it? Just another part of who I am."
You nodded slowly but you couldn’t shrug off his words as easily as he could. You recalled the way he looked when he was trancing - peaceful and unguarded. It was hard to imagine that behind those serene features he was being haunted by his memories.
The day was a blur, as you struggled to maintain a cheerful facade and engage in small talk. However, Astarion's words continued to haunt you. As the evening progressed and you both followed your usual nightly routine, you made a decision to do something.
"Astarion." He turned to you, a curious look on his face. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage."I think we could try something different tonight. Do you trust me?"
Astarion looked at you as though surprised by the question, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Trust is a strong word, darling," he replied, a smirk forming on his lips. "But yes, I suppose I do trust you."
"Good," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.
You cleared your throat as you settled into the bedroll, signaling for him to join you. Astarion raised an eyebrow but followed your lead, settling into the bedroll beside you.
"Rest your head on my lap," you instructed softly
Astarion's eyebrows shot up once more, but then he shrugged and followed your instructions. He cautiously rested his head on your lap, surprising you with his compliance. Sensing the tension in his body, you refrained from touching him yet, and instead reached for your bag. He watched you curiously as you took out a small jar.
"What's that?" he asked, his eyes glinting with intrigue.
"It's a special blend of herbs and oils that I use to help me relax and sleep better," you explained, opening the tub and taking out a small dab of the mixture. "Can I touch you?"
He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, before he answered, "Yes you may."
You rubbed the mixture between your fingers before gently massaging it onto his temples and forehead. You could feel him tense under your touch, probably not used to this kind of contact.
"Does it help?" he asked quietly, his eyes closed.
"It helps me," you replied honestly. "I'm not sure if it'll have the same effect on you, but I figured it's worth a try."
He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," you replied, smiling back down at him. "Now just close your eyes and try to relax. Let your thoughts drift you away."
Astarion blinked, his long lashes fluttering against his pale skin. He looked at you with a mix of surprise and skepticism, clearly hesitant to follow your lead. But he didn't protest, didn't push your hands away. Instead, he nodded slightly, closing his eyes once more.
You watched him closely, noticing how the tension in his jaw gradually subsided and the creases on his forehead smoothed out little by little. You continued gently massaging his temples, the rhythmic movements soothing both of you.
The change in his demeanor prompted a fluttering sensation in your stomach that you hastily shrugged away, reminding yourself not to read too much into it.
Eventually, you started running your fingers through his hair and Astarion let out a contented hum, adjusting himself slightly in response. You could have sworn he was purring, and it seemed like he had fallen into a deep slumber.
By the end of the night, you were asleep with your hands still gently stroking his head.
From that moment, a subtle tension seemed to linger between the two of you. It was unspoken, but present every time you were alone together. Astarion would ask for your help to fall asleep each night, and without fail, he would drift off quickly and sleep soundly. You loved watching him relax under your touch, feeling his body go limp and his soft sleepy sounds. But more than that, you enjoyed drifting off with your fingers tangled in his soft curls, your heart feeling light and at ease in his presence.
However, the perils of your journey became worse as your party reached the Underdark. Your main concern became avoiding attacks from shadow monsters, leaving little room for any attention to whatever connection was building between you two.
One night, as you approached Astarion's tent, you noticed him sitting cross-legged in front of his small mirror. His brow was furrowed and his expression was one of deep contemplation. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should disturb him or not.
"Looking at something?" he suddenly asked.
You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to break the silence.
"How did you see me?"
"The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn't quite make up for the lack of a reflection, mind you."
And then it clicked. He couldn't see his own reflection. Why hadn't it occurred to you before?
"Do you miss it? Your own face, I mean."
Of course he did, what a stupid question.
"Preening in the Looking Glass? Petty vanity?" Astarion scoffed, "Of course I miss it."
Astarion's tone was bitter, his gaze fixed on his reflection-less face in the mirror. You sat down next to him, mirroring his position.
"I've never even seen this face not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red"
So he hadn't seen his face in over 200 years. You couldn't imagine what that must feel like. To not have seen your own face in over two centuries. To be unable to remember how it even looked like.
After your conversation, ideas began to circulate in your mind. You considered asking Gale to use his magic to transform your appearance to match his, but that would only be temporary. You wanted something more permanent that would allow him to admire his own face whenever he pleased. The thought of enchanting his mirror so that it would reflect his image crossed your mind. Surely there had to be a spell for that. However, time was limited and you were unsure how much you could dedicate to the task anyway. Then, an answer presented itself at the Last Light Inn when you encountered an artist on your way.
"How long would it take for you to paint a portrait?"
"Like, a month?"
"I will pay you triple if you finish it in a week."
Although the artist was hesitant, the promise of triple payment was too tempting for him to turn down. And so, a week later, you returned to Astarion's tent with a canvas in hand. He arched an eyebrow in question.
"What is this?" Astarion asked, gesturing towards your offering. "Another gift? At this rate, my tent will be overflowing with your generosity."
You grinned and gently set the canvas on the floor in front of him. A delicate, sheer fabric covered its surface.
"This is a special one, though."
His eyes glossed over with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he leaned forward to unwrap it. An expectant silence filled the tent, the only sound being the rustle of fabric as he carefully lifted the veil. The sight that greeted his gaze left him momentarily speechless - an exquisitely painted portrait of a man, elegantly handsome with sharp, angular features and piercing red eyes.
"What is this?" Astarion asked with a chuckle, clearly admiring the artwork."You've given me a portrait of a handsome stranger? How thoughtful, dear. But the quality could be better, honestly."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you whispered, "That's you," holding your breath for his reaction.
There was a tense moment of silence as Astarion stared at the portrait. You couldn't quite read his expression, and your heart started to race with anxiety. Had you made a mistake? Was he displeased with the gift? Maybe you were intruding too much in his personal life...
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally spoke. "This is... me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, almost disbelieving.
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes.
"Yes. I wanted you to have something that would allow you to see yourself again, so I asked an artist at the Last Light Inn to paint you."
His fingers traced over the painting, brushing lightly over the likeness of his own face, his own eyes - red now - but still his. He took a step back as if he'd been hit, staggering slightly. There was a moment where he just stood there, staring at the man in the portrait - at himself.
"Is this... is this how I look now?" He asks, voice barely audible.
You swallowed hard and nodded, "Yes."
"I..." he started, then stopped. Shaking his head, he turned towards you with a conflicted look in his red eyes. "I... don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," you told him reassuringly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
He looked at you for a long moment before nodding and squeezing your hand back. A tear trickled down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away, but not before you saw it glistening in the dim light.
"Thank you," he said finally. It's quiet, almost lost in the silence of the tent, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. You smiled at him, feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over you.
"You're welcome," you whispered softly.
Astarion's crimson eyes shimmered with tears as he gazed at the painting, struggling to maintain his composure. You gave him a reassuring smile before turning around to give him some space to process his thoughts and feelings. But just as you were about to leave, he reached out and took hold of your hand, stopping you.
"Don't go" he said solemnly. "Please don't go... I'd like to... I want..." slowly, he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.
You were taken aback for a moment but then quickly melted into his embrace. After a moment of silence, the vampire spoke softly, his voice raspy.
"I don't know... how to repay you, I..." he murmured into your hair.
"You don't have to," you whispered back, feeling overwhelmed by his sudden display of emotion.
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally pulled away slightly so that he could look into your eyes. His eyes were moist with tears, but they also held a glimmer of hope, happiness. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a wave of warmth spread throughout your body from the simple touch. And in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had fallen for this man. It wasn't just a matter of caring anymore; you were deeply and irrevocably in love with him.
And you would tell him, you decided. You would let him know that he didn't owe you anything because you had acted out of love. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins. His eyes were still on yours, searching, questioning.
"Astarion...," you started, your voice soft and filled with emotion, "I need to tell you... I..."
However, just as you were about to spill your heart, the sound of someone calling for you pierced through the quiet atmosphere of the tent. With a sigh, you reluctantly untangled yourself from Astarion's arms.
"I'm afraid that's my cue."
He gave a silent nod, his eyes reflecting a mix of conflicting emotions.
"Sure, sure. Wouldn't want to interrupt your exciting duties as our esteemed leader."
You rolled your eyes with a small smile and got out of the tent. However, there was a feeling of disappointed and regret for not being able to express your true feelings to him. You made a mental note to tell him later when you had the chance.
But that night, Astarion didn't come to his bedroll. Nor the next one. Or the one following. You sensed he was putting some distance between you as if something had changed. He continued with his blatant flirting and sly remarks, of course. They just seemed... mechanical. Every time you tried to talk about your feelings, he would deflect or change the subject. Days turned into weeks and still nothing changed between you two. Astarion remained distant and aloof while you struggled with your own emotions, feeling confused and rejected.
One morning, you woke up with a heavy weight on your chest. You initially dismissed it as the usual feeling of sadness that had been lingering for a week now. But after a whole day of choking on your own breath and dizziness, mixed with a deep pounding in your head, you knew this wasn’t the case. Despite your condition, you pushed through the day, determined not to be seen as weak or unreliable by your group.
However, as time passed, it became increasingly difficult to hide your worsening state from everyone else. Your coughing spells were becoming more frequent, and your body was weakening rapidly. You could sense Astarion's worried stare on you from time to time, but he never approached you to inquire about your condition.
That all changed one morning when you couldn't even muster the strength to get out of bed. Your entire body was in pain and your fever was soaring. You heard footsteps approaching your bedrolls and prepared yourself for one of your companions coming to check on you (or more likely, tell you off). However, it was Astarion's smirking face that came into view.
"Well, well, well," he said with a teasing tone, "Seems like our fearless leader is not feeling so fearless anymore. Feeling lazy today, are we?"
You managed to roll your eyes, laying your arm back over them to shield from the morning sunlight peering in through a hole in the tent. "If by lazy you mean sick, then yes." Your voice was weak and raspier than usual. You coughed into your arm, the action causing your body to shake and shudder with discomfort.
"Hmm..." Astarion's voice was no longer teasing. "That doesn't sound good, darling."
His gaze was intense when he leaned down to press his hand against your forehead. You suppressed a shiver at the unexpected coolness it brought and tried to turn away from him. He didn't let you, pushing your hair away from your face with his other hand.
"You're burning up," he said, moving away from you but not before you saw the worry flash briefly in his eyes. He stood up abruptly and started pacing around your bedroll, "What can I do?" He asked more to himself than you.
"Nothing… I just need… rest..." You managed to respond before another coughing fit washed over you.
Astarion shook his head "I'm going to get Shadowheart and Halsin. They will know what to do."
Astarion hurried out of the tent, and surely a few minutes later he came back bringing your two companions. As Halsin handed you the potion and Shadowheart casted her healing spells, Astarion's hand brushed against yours briefly before pulling away.
"Thank you," you whispered weakly before passing out.
A few hours later, after resting and drinking more disgusting beverages than you could count, your fever had finally subsided a bit and your coughing fits were less frequent. Astarion stayed by your side through the whole ordeal, a comforting silhouette against the flickering candlelight. You closed your eyes and felt his cold hand soothingly stroke your forehead. The cool, comforting touch of his skin against yours was a relief from the fever heat radiating off your body.
"Feel any better?" Astarion asked, raising an eyebrow.
You attempted a smile, "Well, I'm not dead yet."
His lips twitched in response, a semblance of his usual smirk flickering across his handsome face. "Good. That would be inconvenient for my dietary needs."
Despite feeling weak and exhausted, you couldn't help but chuckle. It was a welcome distraction from the constant throbbing pain in your head and rattling chest.
He shifted awkwardly on his seat next to you, looking almost hesitant, before he started speaking again. "I... I was scared of losing you," he admitted, "And I have to confess something."
His usually confident and cocky demeanor was replaced with an almost childlike uncertainty.
"What is it?" You asked, your voice still weak but full of concern.
He sighed heavily before meeting your gaze.
"I had a nice simple plan; to manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. And honestly, I thought it would be so easy, with you being so open, so eager to care for everyone..." He frowns, "But that is the thing. You are so kind, so thoughtful. No one's ever cared for me the way you have. And... I don't know how to handle it."
You reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it gently. "I understand," you said softly. "It's not easy to let someone take care of you, but you don't have to push me away. You deserve love and happiness just like everyone else."
He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I want to try," he said, determination flickering in his gaze. "I want to let you take care of me. And I want to take care of you, if you let me."
You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words.
"Of course. But first, I feel like I need to tell you something too." You took a deep breath before continuing, "I...I think I'm falling in love with you."
He looked at you puzzled, before letting out a loud laugh.
"Oh, my love. I already knew."
You were taken aback by his words. "What? You did?"
He rolled his eyes "Dear, you were hardly subtle about it. A portrait? Essential oils? Come on..."
You couldn't help but laugh at his response, feeling relieved and embarrassed all at once.
"I guess I'm not as sneaky as I thought," you said, shaking your head.
"But I'm not better." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I've been falling for you since the moment you started leaving books on my bedroll."
With that, he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. It was like a spark igniting, sending waves of electricity through your body. In that brief moment, all the emotions and tensions that had been building between you seemed to dissipate into thin air. The softness of his lips against yours was like a warm embrace, melting away any doubts or fears you may have had.
When you both pulled away, you rested your forehead against his and whispered, "You are going to get ill now."
He chuckled, "How fortunate I am already dead then."
Yet, in that moment, the gleam of his eyes made him seem more alive than you had ever seen him.
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emiliehornby · 4 months
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i beg you (and you don’t understand)
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pairing luke castellan x fem! child of athena! reader
synopsis luke knew you loved him enough to fight a war for him, but you should have known that history would eventually write you two against each other
warnings MAJOR spoilers for the lightning thief
author’s notes turns out i can’t go too long without writing angst!! so after listening to history of man by maisie peters, i had an idea and completely ran with it. writing this literally had me kicking my feet!! happy first fic of the year!! woohoo!! apologies in advance though lol
Luke had once asked you, “Do you ever think about what our lives would look like if we weren’t here?”
“Like at camp? Maybe a little too much. It’s not like we can do anything about it, but if I get the chance to be with you in every lifetime, it can’t be too bad. Right?” You smiled.
“To Tartarus and back?” He placed a hand on your cheek.
You leaned into him, “To Tartarus and back, baby.”
“Luke. Luke is the traitor.”
Percy’s words swam in your ears. You should have known it when he barely came back alive from his quest and looked for someone to blame. Heck, just last week, Luke had admitted he imagined a future with you, away from the burdens of being demigods. For the first time in forever, he had felt at peace. The signs had been right in front of you…yet you still didn’t see them coming.
Some daughter of Athena you were.
The campers occupying the infirmary came to a stop at Percy’s declaration. As the boy went on to explain how he’d been poisoned by a scorpion and exposed Luke’s vendetta, they hung onto every word. The question as to how the golden boy at camp came to be so angry at the world lingered in the air.
And you hated it.
You stood from beside Percy’s bedside, “Chris…go get Peter, Maisie, and Delilah. If anyone else wants to help, they can. But we have to look for him.”
“On it.” Chris nodded.
“You guys, stay here.” You told Percy, Annabeth, and Grover.
Percy failed to follow your orders. Instead, he staggered outside the infirmary while his friend’s pleas for him to stay were ignored. The son of Poseidon fell into step with you and screamed, “Didn’t you hear what I just said?! Why would you wanna find Luke after what he’s done?”
You turned around, “Because he would have done it for me!” Percy’s body bumped into yours. You reached over at his sides to stabilize him. An ounce of doubt in your own words sparked a slight burn building in the back of your throat. You tried to bite it back, only for it to be replaced with a heavy weight falling onto your shoulders.
“Then if anyone gets to look for him, it should be me.” Percy demanded.
You patted his hair, “And if anyone can get to his head, it’s me, Percy.”
“Where do you want us?” Chris cut your conversation short. Delilah came from behind him, handing over your daggers.
“You guys head towards the North Woods. I’ll be near the border. We’ll circle back at the Big House.” You placed one in your holster, nodding in the direction they were supposed to take. Your friends wished you luck and ran straight through the trees while you pointed a dagger at Percy, “I mean it. Stay here, you’re safer that way.”
You left without another word.
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Amidst your search, you bumped into your siblings, who shared sympathetic looks, and other Hermes kids, who offered to accompany you. You insisted on treading this alone, a sense of obligation clouding over you to do so. Luke had been it for you since the beginning, and a twisted part of you didn’t want that to change. If you could just get a moment alone with him, maybe you could convince him the impending war wasn’t worth it. Maybe eventually, the Gods would get their punishments…
You didn’t realize how long you’d been wandering the forest. You dreaded coming back to camp without Luke, taking your time while the sky settled into a warm orange to guide you through your last round of the forest outside the border. You twisted a dagger around your wrist to keep you occupied, coming to a halt when a pile of leaves crunched from behind you. Slowly, you turned around to seemingly nothing, but the tracks in the dirt told you a different story.
You scolded your sister, “It’s not safe out here.”
“Then come back to camp with me.” Annabeth removed her cap.
You shook your head, “I- Look, I can’t.”
Annabeth tried to convince you, “Luke probably left as soon as Percy was poisoned. But the Gods will find a way to deal with him-”
“The Gods shouldn’t have to deal with him! If they didn’t just abandon us, we wouldn’t even be here right now!” Your sister’s face fell as you couldn’t help but raise your voice. When she failed to look at you, you shut your eyes and took a deep breath.
Gods, you just wanted Luke to come home to you. Was that too much to ask?
You waved her over, “Annabeth…come here.”
She listened and you wrapped your arms around her, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I just want to help. Luke was my family too.” Annabeth gave you a squeeze. 
“I know, but you have to listen to me. Okay?” You pulled away to place your hands on her cheeks. For a second, you saw the shadow of your sister at seven years old, the age she was when she first came to camp. You looked her in the eyes to clearly instruct her, “Go back to the cabin. I just need a second.”
“I’m not leaving you here-” Annabeth frowned.
“I’ll be right behind you. I promise.” You reassured her.
Annabeth refused to take no for an answer, “Then I’ll wait for you by the border.”
You pat her head and gently pushed her towards camp, “Go.”
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You had barely reached the border when you felt someone staring at you.
“When you said you’d wait for me by the border, I thought you meant you’d be behind it.” You joked around, thinking it was Annabeth.
Instead, a voice replied in the distance, “You know how Annabeth can be with loopholes.” You tightened a grip on your dagger, circling around to pinpoint where the echo came from. When you felt a rustle in the wind, you turned around sharply. The tip of the blade hovered just centimeters away from Luke’s throat.
Your stare hardened, “What’s stopping me from turning you in right now?”
“Easy. You’d never do that to me.” Luke cracked a smile.
You couldn’t even argue with him.
You feared to ask, “So it’s true…what you did to Percy?”
His silence was enough of an answer.
Luke tapped the edge of the blade and moved closer to you. His mere presence rendered you defenseless as you let him take the dagger from you and drop it into the dirt. You faltered when he tried to hold you close, one hand holding his wrist while the other punched at his chest.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.” He took the blows with ease.
You looked up at him, “Luke.”
He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. His hand cupped at your jaw while you placed your hands on his neck. Like it was muscle memory, he took two steps forward to gently pin you up against the nearest tree. You deepened the kiss, feeling his pulse quicken against your fingers, savoring the moment. Luke was the first to pull away, but he only leaned further into your touch.
“Come with me.” He begged.
“Luke…” You whispered.
He tried to explain himself, “You have to understand…I wanted to give us a chance in this new world that’s waiting for us. I did this for us. So come with me.”
You forced yourself to face reality. You may have stood in front of your past and present, but you had to think about the future. This wasn’t Camp Half Blood. You weren’t playfully sparring for bragging rights or working on strategies in the Hermes cabin to win capture the flag. You lived in a world where a war between the Gods was imminent because of the boy you loved. This is what you had been training for, but you couldn’t do anything to convince him it was wrong.
So you pushed him away.
You yelled, “Annabeth! Chiron! Anyone?!” He spared you a glance before narrowly escaping between the trees. When he was nothing but a shadow, you will yourself to run off as fast as your legs could carry you. You didn’t care that your body felt like it was burning in the pits of Tartarus. You didn’t want to stop until you found a familiar face.
You turned around in case he followed you, even though a feeling in your gut told you that was it. You yelled again, “Annabeth- umph!” You collided straight into the girl, falling just behind Thalia’s tree. You groaned, rolling off of her and wiping your face. Annabeth sat up to check on you, making sure you came back unharmed.
“Annabeth?! Y/N?!” Percy ran in with Riptide in his hand and Grover at his side. You couldn’t help but laugh at the look on their faces.
“Are you okay?” Grover sat himself next to you. His gentle touch on your back turned your laughter into tears. They slowly fell down your face, burying yourself into your hands as you sobbed. Your sister and the satyr were patient while you worked through your emotions, both of them sharing a look before glaring at Percy. Silent expressions were thrown between the trio until a pointed look from Annabeth made Percy sit down in defeat. He used Riptide to draw shapes into the dirt while they comforted you.
You finally lifted your head up, confessing, “Luke asked me…he asked me to join him.”
Grover only asked what everyone hesitated to, “What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t- I can’t believe he would even ask that in the first place. I didn’t know what to do, so I just…I ran. I shouldn’t have run.” Your voice faltered when Annabeth gently wiped under your eyes. Afraid to go deeper into the subject if it meant accepting Luke’s fate, you nodded over at Percy instead, silent “You didn’t have to come in full force, you know. Thank you.”
Percy only shrugged, “Hey, you’d do it for me.”
“I’m sorry, Percy.” You apologized for snapping at him before you left. You apologized for Luke poisoning him. You apologized for the universe that brought him, a child, into this path he didn’t choose to take. 
“Yeah, me too.” Percy was sorry it turned out like this. He was sorry for Luke hurting you, the one he loved the most. He was sorry about the Gods, who could have prevented this if they just loved their children a little more.
You broke his thoughts to beckon him over, “Come over here.”
Hesitantly, Percy obliged. When his feet touched yours, you yanked him down and brought the kids under your arms. They couldn’t help but lean deeper into you, hoping the love you had for each other would get you through the idea of a war you’d have no choice but to inevitably partake in. You pressed a kiss to Annabeth’s head, unaware of Luke, who silently watched you take the kids back to their cabins and turned to leave you behind.
One day, you’d find it in yourself to heal from the betrayal that blindsided you all. But you were his weakness, and it would only be a matter of time before someone took advantage of that. It wouldn’t be long until you met again.
After all, history had its eyes on you two.
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trans-cuchulainn · 4 months
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i don't have the words to articulate it at this moment but there's something about the way that people have specific expectations for "authenticity" and will dismiss anything that falls outside them as a mangled, anglicised version of the thing when actually that is the older and more traditional form of something, it just doesn't match their expectations. obviously in my personal experiences i'm mostly talking about medieval literature here especially medieval irish literature
sometimes this is as simple as spelling – i've had people argue that the name "finn" is anglicised and it should always be "fionn" to be Really Irish, but "finn" is an older spelling, glide vowels are later, if you wanna go real far back it'll be "find" (nd in place of nn is an older spelling pattern). or they'll hear someone say "ogam" and assume they're mispronouncing "ogham" due to lack of knowledge of irish and not consider the fact that medievalists tend to use the older form of the word. or they'll Well Actually you about "correct" terminology which wasn't standardised (and/or invented) until the 20th century
a lot of this is defensive and the result of seeing a lot of people ACTUALLY get this stuff wrong and have no respect for the language. in that regard i understand it, although it becomes very tedious after a while, particularly when people sanctimoniously declare something "inauthentic", "fake", or "anglicised" without doing enough research to realise it's not trying to be modern irish and is in fact correct for older forms of the language
more often however this search for the projected "authenticity" is ideological and has much larger flaws and more problematic implications. "this can't be the real story because it's christian" well... that's the oldest version of the story that exists and it postdates christianity in ireland by about nine hundred years, so... maybe question why you're assuming the only "real" version of irish stories can't be a christian one? this is especially true when it comes to fíanaigecht material tbh, but in general there seems to a widespread misapprehension about ireland's historical relationship with christianity (i have seen people arguing that christianity in ireland is the result of english colonialism which took their "true" faith from them... bro. they were christian before the "english" existed. half the conversion efforts went the other way. please read some early medieval history thank you)
however i also saw someone saying this about arthurian literature lately which REALLY baffled me. "we'll never have the Real arthurian stories only the christianised versions" and it was in the context of chivalric romance. buddy you are mourning something that does not exist. this "authentic" story you're looking for isn't there. that twelfth century story you're dismissing as a christian bastardisation is as "real" a part of this tradition as you're going to get
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melzula · 3 months
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Could you write a Sokka x firebender reader that has the plot of the secret tunnel episode but instead of aang and katara getting stuck together it’s him and reader? :)
Don’t Let the Cave In Get You Down
a/n: got two requests for this sokka storyline and i was very excited to write it! i couldn’t find a way to seamlessly include the fire bending part of the request but i could definitely build on that in another piece. hope you enjoy <3
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you met the Gaang when they were passing through a small trading village on the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom
they were low on supplies and in need of a shopping spree, so they stopped at your little food stand in search of fresh fruit and snacks for their travels
you seemed awfully young to have your own business, especially when compared to the other merchants, but you were kind and your prices were affordable
their shopping spree was cut short by the arrival of fire nation soldiers, but you quickly escorted them through the backstreets of the marketplace and helped them evade the soldiers
“That was a close call,” Aang breathed out in relief, “thanks for your help.”
“Those guys are jerks, I couldn’t live with myself if I had just let them capture you.”
“Who are you?” Katara asked in awe.
“My name is y/n, and I’ve been hiding out in this village for about three years now. I escaped from the Fire Nation when I was 12 and never looked back.”
“Wait a minute, Fire Nation?!” Sokka exclaimed before quickly pushing his sister and Aang behind him. Raising his boomerang in a threatening manor, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is this some kind of trick?! Did you just lure us out here so you could capture Aang and get the reward for yourself?”
“Sokka, you’re being ridiculous!” Katara had scolded angrily, harshly pushing his boomerang away. “She said herself she came here to get away from the Fire Nation, I’m sure she’s just trying to make a better life for herself here and you’re not making that any easier for her by being a jerk!”
“I don’t trust her, Katara!”
You’re a little disheartened by the disdain in his voice when he speaks about you, and despite Katara vouching for you you can see that you’re out of place
“I’m sorry, I’ve made things awkward,” you apologized sheepishly, “I’ll leave you now.”
“Wait!” Aang called, stopping you from going. “If what you said is true then… then I think you should come with us.”
“Tell me you’re joking,” Sokka scoffed in disbelief
“If she’s from the Fire Nation then she must have knowledge about the ins and outs of that place. Maybe she can even help me find a fire bending master. We need her help, Sokka.”
Though he was reluctant and very distrusting of you, Sokka realized Aang was right, so he begrudgingly allowed the airbender to welcome you to their team
You agreed to help as much as you can, and the rest was history
From there on out you’re officially a member of Team Avatar, but that doesn’t mean Sokka becomes any more trusting of you
He always keeps a suspicious eye on you, never letting you help with tasks he deems too important to avoid having you “sabotage” the group
His lack of trust in you hurts, you can’t lie about that, but you continue to do what you can to aid the Avatar and his friends and earn their trust
Of course, this all changes when you get to the cave of two lovers
Unlike Sokka, you found Chong and his group of Nomads to be great fun. They’d braided your hair beautifully with flowers from the lake and performed wonderful songs, so despite your predicament you were in a cheerful mood
Being stuck in the cave had put a strain on your group’s mission to make it to Omashu, but you tried to remain hopeful and help as best as you can
Surprisingly, Sokka even puts you in charge of holding one of the torches
“I’m only giving this to you because I know you’re at least smart enough not to waste resources while we’re in here.”
It’s a start
And it’s a good thing he gave you that torch, because it comes in handy when you both end up getting separated from the rest of the group
“This is just great,” Sokka utters sarcastically after several failed attempts to dig through the rock and get back to the others.
“Come on, Sokka, lighten up. We have a torch and your map, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out,” you try to console. “What did Chong say earlier? ‘Don’t let the cave in get you down, Sokka.’”
He’s not amused by your singing
It’s a bit awkward being stuck with the boy who’s been so adamant that you don’t belong despite your best efforts to prove that you can be trusted
You don’t speak much and try to stay out of his way and follow his lead, but the tunnels keep changing and you keep getting lost and your torch is about to burn out, so things are beginning to seem hopeless
“Maybe we should try changing our strategy,” you offer only for Sokka to immediately dismiss you.
“Right, like I’m going to let you lead us through the cave. You’ll probably make us get lost on purpose.”
“You know, if you stopped being so judgmental for a second you’d probably realize that i want to get out of this cave just as much as you do!” You snap irritably, surprising Sokka. you’ve mostly stayed docile to try and keep the peace whenever Sokka accuses you of being untrustworthy, but at this point you’re finally starting to get fed up
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he says softly, and this time you’re the one who’s surprised. You never thought he’d actually apologize to you, and it’s a nice feeling. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Well,” you start with a sigh, “maybe the story is right. Maybe if we trust in love, we’ll find our way out of here.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
You simply shrug, prompting Sokka to let out a heavy sigh. Your torch is going to run out soon, and his map isn’t doing anyone any favors. It seems you have no choice
“How exactly do we trust in love?”
“I’m not sure… the only love I know is the love I had from my parents, but I haven’t felt it in so long… I’m not sure I ever will again.”
“…What happened to them?”
“My parents were peasants with nothing but love to give each other. They were poor, but they were happy,” you explain with a faint smile. “My father was a fire bender, but he kept his gift hidden in fear he’d be forced to serve in the Fire Nation army. He didn’t want to leave me or my mother, but our home was attacked, and he had no choice but to bend to protect us. Our lives were saved, but he was taken away.”
Sokka hangs on to your every word, eyes glistening with unshed tears and sympathy. Your story is similar to his own, and he knows what it’s like to lose your family to the Fire Nation. He feels less disdain towards you now, more empathetic. He still isn’t 100% sure how to feel about you, but hearing your story makes you easier to understand now
“My mother knew I’d never be safe or happy if I stayed there, so she arranged for me to be smuggled out of the Fire Nation and brought to the trading village you first met me in. I haven’t seen or heard from her since, and I’m not even sure if she or my father are even alive.”
“I’m sorry,” Sokka utters solemnly. “Katara and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation, and we haven’t seen our father since he left to fight in the war. I know how you feel.”
“I don’t want to be Fire Nation, you know. None of this was a choice, and I understand why you don’t trust me but I’m not like them Sokka. Please believe me.”
“I’m sorry for always giving you such a hard time. It’s just… it’s hard to believe people from the Fire Nation can actually be good. But you’ve proven that you can be trusted over and over again, I was just too blind to see it.”
“Can we start over?” He asks with a sheepish smile, carefully sticking his hand out for you to shake. Instead, you push his hand away and throw your arms around him in a tight embrace.
The force of your hug knocks him back a bit, and though he’s unsure at first, he eventually returns your embrace by carefully wrapping his arms around your figure
The fire of your torch slowly begins to die, but neither of you seem to notice or care as you enjoy your moment together
You expect to be engulfed in darkness when the flame goes out, but instead you’re met with the beautiful shimmers of the crystals that line the roofs of the cave
“It’s so beautiful,” you murmur in awe, your eyes sparkling under the light
“Yeah,” your counterpart utters quietly, but he isn’t looking at the crystals
“Was she always this pretty?” Sokka wondered to himself
Together, you’re eventually able to follow the crystals and make your way out of the cave
And when you leave the cave, hands woven tightly together, you leave as two completely new people
You understand each other now, you trust each other
And your relationship will only continue to grow stronger from then on out
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @chronic-daydreamer @niktwazny303
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soon-palestine · 1 day
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as an american citizen, you have the right to assemble. the police and other governmental agencies violate this right through mass arrests, illegal use of force, criminalization of protest and other means that threaten our right to free expression.
DO NOT TALK TO THE POLICE:
they are not your friends. they are not there to protect you, regardless of your race. their presence there is to protect the interests of the state.
what to do if you are detained or stopped by the police:
do not resist, even if you think they are violating your rights.
calmly ask someone to record.
ask if you’re free to leave. if you are, walk away.
how to stay safe during a protest:
write phone/legal aid numbers on your body. bring a sharpie for others to do this.
ALWAYS use the buddy system. don’t be selfish & stick to your own friend group. if you see someone alone, invite them into your circle.
don’t know where to seek legal aid?
before attending/during a protest, visit http://nlg.org/chapters/#massdefense.
NLG chapters are organized into regions. find. your region and write their number on your body.
encourage others around you to write that same number on their body.
4. if you are threatened with or under arrest:
you have the right to know why you’re being arrested. calmly ask. if they refuse to provide a reason, stay quiet and ask for legal representation immediately.
do not give any information or sign anything without a lawyer present.
what to do with your phone during a protest:
put your phone on airplane mode
disable face ID/touch, replace with 6-digit passcode instead
spreading awareness is great but avoid posting photos of people that include identifying features.
police want everyone to leave the area, what should that look like:
shutting down a protect through a dispersal order must be the last resort for police.
a clear danger must be present.
police must give adequate time for protesters to disperse and an exit route.
what are your rights if you’re being stopped or detained by police:
you do not have to consent to you or your belongings being searched. if you consent, anything can be used against you in court.
police can conduct a “pat down” if they suspect you have a weapon.
if you see someone being detained, what should you do:
record the interaction. police can not demand to view or delete any footage without a warrant.
use calming affirmations towards the person being detained. they are likely scared. be there for them.
use whatever privilege you have to protect others.
if you see a disabled person struggling, offer to help. find medics to assist people experiencing anxiety or having a panic attack. if you see a BIPOC being harassed, surround them.
personal note on using your privilege: i have seen white people, countless times, place themselves in front of BIPOC when police draw weapons/approach protests. it often works.
do not be a person that just acknowledges their privilege, use it for good.
10. remember that we protect us. ignite this chant as a reminder to everyone present if you have to. communities are supposed to help one another. don’t be a sell out, offer support, share resources, food and water. be a kind soul.
if you can not participate in a protest for whatever reason, you can still help! drop-off supplies! (water bottles, allergy-friendly foods/snacks with ingredients labels on them, sharpies, cards with legal aid numbers on them, masks, makeup remover wipes, hand sanitizer, etc)
sources/disclaimer: main source:
@ACLU and my own opinions. this is not legal advice. consult legal representation if you are in need of assistance.
stay safe, be on the right side of history. black lives matter, no one is illegal, we protect us, land back, all oppression is connected and free palestine. 🇵🇸
698 notes · View notes
proxima-writes · 8 months
Text
the right wrong number
pairing: pre/no outbreak!joel miller x soccer coach!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 6k
summary:
When Joel receives a dirty text from an unknown number, he gives into his curiosity and messages back.
He doesn’t expect the number to belong to his daughter’s summer camp soccer coach.
dear reader:
this work is a request and a birthday gift for my sweet baby @mydailyhyperfixations , who’s been one of my biggest supporters since i started posting my work on tumblr. ily, and i hope you love the fic! special thanks to @cutesyscreenname for helping me with some lil details to finish this surprise. support and mdni banners by @saradika
content warnings:
explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (undefined, but references are made), pre/no outbreak!joel miller, identity porn, wrong number au, sexting, dom/sub dynamics, use of ‘sir’, pet names, praise, thigh riding, semi-public sexual activity, spanking, safe word discussion, dirty talk, p in v. let me know if i’ve missed any!
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Unknown Number: I had a really good time at dinner tonight!
Joel stares at his phone in confusion. It’s past midnight and he’s been sitting on the couch nursing a beer and watching Indiana Jones. He’s been in the same spot since Sarah went to bed a couple hours ago. His phone beeps again.
Unknown Number: It’s too bad we didn’t have time to visit Noir.
Joel raises his eyebrows. Noir is a bar in downtown Austin known for its calendar of speciality kink events. He’s seen it come up in his Google searches of local bars and had considered going to an event or two but never worked up the courage. His kinks remain between him and his porn search history.
Unknown Number: Wanna see what you missed out on?
[Photo 01.jpg]
Curiosity gets the better of him and he clicks on the image attachment. He nearly drops his phone when a photo of a woman fills his screen, sweet curves hugged by black lace on white sheets. He should absolutely tell her that she has the wrong number. His fingers type across the screen.
Damn, seems a shame something that gorgeous is going to waste.
Unknown Number: Who says it has to go to waste?
Joel swallows nervously. He’s already hard in his jeans, cock pressing urgently against his pants. He palms himself, trying to collect his thoughts.
Unknown Number: I’m feeling a little needy over here.
[Photo 02.jpg]
Against his better judgment, Joel opens the second photo and has to bite back a groan at the image of the woman’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of the panties, fingers hidden from sight behind lace and silk.
You want me to tell you how to play with that pretty pussy?
Joel squeezes his eyes shut as he presses send. This is a colossally stupid idea. This is a stranger, and he’s not the intended recipient of these messages.
Unknown Number: I’d really like that, sir.
Fuck it, Joel thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Start by circling those fingers over your clit. Nice and slow.
And when you feel like you could cum, I want you to go even slower.
Unknown Number: It’s too slow. I want more.
Be patient, baby. And aren’t you forgetting something?
Unknown Number: Sorry. I want more, SIR.
Joel presses a hand to the bulge in his jeans, the pressure offering little relief.
Now don’t start being a brat, sweetheart. You won’t like the result.
Unknown Number: Oh yeah? What would you even do?
I’d love nothing more than to bend you over the edge of the bed, ass ready to be spanked red.
Unknown Number: Fuck, that would feel so good. Bet your hands would feel amazing marking me up.
You still being a good girl and following my instructions?
Unknown Number: I think I forgot. Could you remind me, sir?
You’ll have to ask more nicely than that.
Unknown Number: Could you *please* remind me, sir?
Joel runs a hand over his beard before reaching for the forgotten beer on the coffee table and taking a swig.
You’re supposed to be teasing yourself for me. Nice and slow.
I want you to pinch your nipples until they’re nice and tight, too.
Unknown Number: Like this?
[Photo 03.jpg]
Joel bites his lip as he opens the third photo. You’ve got your bra pulled down to expose your nipples, hard and perfect and begging for his mouth. He unbuttons his jeans, tossing his phone on the couch only long enough to shimmy the denim down his thighs and free his leaking cock.
Just like that, baby. Such a good girl for me.
Unknown Number: Are you touching yourself, too, sir?
Of course I am, baby.
Unknown Number: Can I see, sir? Please?
Joel’s hand falters as alarm bells blare in his head. He should absolutely not open his camera. And he should definitely not find the perfect angle that doesn’t show his face. And he certainly should not grip his cock around the base, holding it steady as the shutter sounds and a new photo is saved to his camera roll.
No. He shouldn’t do any of that.
[Photo 04.jpg]
Unknown Number: God, your cock would feel so good in me right now.
Joel’s right hand moves at a steady pace up and down his length, left hand fumbling to type a reply.
Why don’t you fuck your little fingers and pretend it’s me, then?
Unknown Number: Won’t fill me up nearly as much, sir.
Be a good girl and follow my directions, baby.
Unknown Number: [Photo 05.jpg]
He opens the photo and his cock pulses in his fist. She has her underwear shoved to the side, two fingers plunged into her glistening pussy. His mind reels with an image of this faceless woman writhing on the bed reading his words, thinking about his cock stretching her open and he has to bite his lip to just keep the responding moan trapped in his throat.
Unknown Number: Can I cum, sir? Please?
Since you asked so nicely, yes. Make yourself cum for me, sweetheart.
Joel sets the phone aside on the couch, closing his eyes as he pumps himself with a tight fist while he imagines your desperate pussy clenching around your fingers. He cups his palm over the head of his cock as his release hits him like a freight train, hips flexing from the couch to chase the lingering sensations of ecstasy from his hand.
He stands, pulling his pants up without bothering to fasten them so that he can wash his hands in the kitchen sink. Guilt settles on his shoulders as he dries his hands with the dish towel while he stares at the couch where his phone is lit up with another message from a stranger he had no business seeing that much of.
He approaches the couch and sits with a sigh, running a hand over his face before picking his phone up to read her message:
Unknown Number: Easily my best orgasm. Hope it was for you, too. Don’t be a stranger xx
Feeling like an asshole, Joel deletes the thread and the wrong number for good, but it’s fine.
It’s not like he’ll ever meet her, anyways.
——————
You’re on the phone with your best friend, telling her about how the last guy you went out with about a week ago, a guy named Jeremy you met on a dating app, still hasn’t reached out to you again despite what you’d thought was a successful date.
“So he just never reached out to you after you sexted him all night?” She asks. “Men are so weird.”
You cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder as you zip up your duffel bag of equipment. It’s the beginning of June and the summer soccer intensive camp for junior league starts today. You’ve got a full registration for the girl’s 13-15 division and you’re excited to get back on the field and help these girls do their best in a sport you love.
“Nope. Maybe I came on too strong? I don’t know,” you reply.
“You did come strongly. At least, that’s what you told me,” she says with a laugh. “Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you’ll meet a hot dad coaching this year.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m not fucking someone’s dad.”
“Never say never, babe.”
“I gotta go find my damn cleats. I’ll talk to you later,” you tell her.
“Fine, I expect a full run down of every DILF you meet today.”
You hang up as she laughs, tossing your phone into your personal bag that you keep separate from the gear before you go in search of your cleats from your room.
——————
Joel and an over-excited Sarah sit in the parking lot of the soccer field that her summer camp is being conducted at, ridiculously early at Sarah’s insistence because she didn’t want to be late on the first day. They’re the only car in the parking lot so far, having apparently beat even the coach, and Joel sips at his travel mug of coffee in the hopes that it grants him energy.
Another car pulls up and parks beside his truck, loud music blaring from the open window. Sarah waves excitedly.
“That’s the coach,” she explains.
Joel watches you get out of your car and pop the trunk. You start pulling out bags of soccer balls and stacks of orange cones, bags of agility equipment and strength training aids. He opens the door to his truck and jogs over.
“Hey, you need any help with that?” He asks. You look over at him in surprise, eyes wide.
“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great,” you reply.
“I’m Joel Miller, and this is my daughter, Sarah,” he says, gesturing to the young girl. She gives a little wave and he extends a hand out to you.
You give him your name, shaking his outstretched hand. “Y’all are a little early,” you reply, hefting a bag over your shoulder.
“My dad’s always late but I didn’t want to be late for camp,” Sarah says. Joel narrows his eyes at her.
“Not a problem. You can help me set up the cones,” you tell her. His daughter gives you a bright smile and he almost forgives her for throwing him under the bus. “I’ll grab these two bags, you grab the cones, and Mr. Miller, could you grab the balls, please?”
Joel fights back his childish laughter at your request, grabbing the bags as instructed. “Just Joel, please.”
You smile at him and he feels a bit blindsided by how it makes his heart beat faster, his palms a little sweatier. You’re very pretty, fresh faced and ready for a day of work, wearing one of those quick dry workout shirts that clings to your curves and a pair of shorts that show off your strong legs. Some traitorous part of his brain wonders what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.
“Alright then, Just Joel. Let’s go.”
——————
“Thank you for the help,” you tell Sarah’s dad. You’re trying very hard not to let your eyes linger on the bulge of his biceps or the broad expanse of his back as he sets down the two bags of soccer balls and places his hands on his hips.
He’s a handsome man, older than you by at least a few years, with tan skin and dark hair and kind brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at something Sarah says. His daughter has the same brown eyes and olive skin, her dark curly hair pulled into a bun.
Of course the first parent you meet this summer is a hot dad. It’s like you’ve spoken it into the universe.
“Not a problem. Glad I can be useful if I’m goin’ to be here this early,” he replies with a narrowed glance at Sarah, who is suddenly very interested in the stack of cones she carried to the field. “Anythin’ else you need me for?”
“Let me get you the game schedule and contact sheet.” You open your bag and pull out your folder of materials you like to give to parents, assembling a stack of papers for him. “On top you’ve got the emergency contacts sheet. Fill that out with your contact information and an alternate’s information, too, just in case I can’t reach you or someone else needs to pick Sarah up. You’ll want to have Sarah bring that back tomorrow.”
You flip the page. “The second page is just a welcome letter. It’s got my phone number on it, feel free to text or call if you have any questions or if Sarah can’t make it one day.”
“And then last we’ve got the camp schedule. The girls will have two tournament days where they’ll play against some nearby summer camp leagues. You can sign up to bring a snack by filling out the piece at the bottom. Do you have any questions?”
“I don’t suppose I do. You’re very organized,” he says, taking the packet from you. You can feel your cheeks heating.
“Thanks,” you murmur. “Well, I gotta finish setting up.”
“I won’t get in your way.” He calls out to Sarah and the young girl runs up to give him a hug goodbye. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”
——————
Joel Miller is the first at the field in the mornings helping you set up for the day and last parent to leave at pick-up, after he’s loaded your trunk up with the equipment, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grins at you.
His daughter is a great player, quick on her feet and smart as a whip, picking up the footwork skills you teach like they’re second nature. You’re telling Joel as much Friday afternoon in the second week of camp when Sarah bounds up and asks if you want to get ice cream with them.
“That’s a great idea, baby girl,” Joel says before you can decline. You blink at him and he gives you that lopsided grin that’s been giving you butterflies since the first day on the field. “But if you order mint chocolate chip, you’re buyin’ it yourself.”
“Good news, I’m a plain ol’ chocolate kinda gal,” you tell him with a laugh.
“Me, too!” Sarah says.
“I’ll follow you guys,” you suggest. Joel gives you a quick nod, herding Sarah into his truck and taking off toward town.
You follow them to a little ice cream parlor, the kind that sells old fashioned sundaes and thick milkshakes with red and white striped straws. You park beside them, watching as Sarah hops from the truck with a wide grin on her face and her dad comes around, slinging a strong arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. Your heart feels warm looking at them.
Once inside, Joel and Sarah end up ordering a sundae to split while you get a small cone of chocolate ice cream. You try to tell Joel not to pay for you, but he hits you with a look that has your mouth going dry, any argument disappearing as all your blood rushes south and makes you ache between your legs.
“I’ll go get us a table outside,” you offer, licking at your treat. You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes track the path of your tongue.
You watch the busy foot traffic while you wait for the Millers to join you, the warm Texas air wrapped around you while you enjoy the slight breeze and your cold dessert.
A deep voice calls your name and you look around, finding a familiar face on the crowded sidewalk.
“Jeremy, hey. How are you?” You ask as the man approaches. It feels like forever ago that you went to dinner together and looking at him now you think he’s handsome but he doesn’t hold a candle to Joel.
“I’m good. Been busy. I gotta say, I was a little bummed I didn’t hear from you after our date. Thought we had a good time,” he says, running a hand through his hair.
“Didn’t…hear from me?” You ask nervously.
He tilts his head. “Yeah. Thought you said you would text me when you got home.”
“Uh…yeah. Sorry. I guess I just forgot.”
The bell dings above the door to the ice cream parlor, Joel and Sarah emerging with a sundae piled with whipped cream. Jeremy looks toward them, then back at you.
“I’m guessing another date is off the table?” He asks, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.
Joel looks between the two of you, brow furrowed as he sets the sundae on the metal table and Sarah takes a seat, digging in immediately.
“Jeremy, this is Joel and his daughter, Sarah. She’s in my soccer camp this summer. Joel, this is my friend Jeremy,” you introduce. Jeremy holds a hand out to Joel, who shakes it briefly, brows still pinched.
“I better get going. Nice seeing you, let me know if you want to get together again,” Jeremy says before turning to leave. When you glance at Joel, his shoulders are drawn up and jaw clenched tight as he stabs his spoon into his ice cream.
“What do you guys have planned this weekend?” You ask to break the silence. Sarah perks up and begins to tell you about how her Uncle Tommy, Joel’s brother, is taking her to a local carnival. You listen and nod along despite the fact that your thoughts are stuck on Jeremy’s words.
If it wasn’t Jeremy on the other end of your conversation that night…who was it?
——————
As the three of you walk back to your vehicles, Joel’s still thinking about that man who’d been talking to you at the ice cream shop and how it made his blood burn hot to hear him mention going on a date with you. His pulse pounded in his ears as he shook the guy’s hand, any information about the guy going right over his head. He didn’t even taste the ice cream or hear the conversation you and Sarah had about the weekend, lost in his thoughts about how between early mornings helping you prep for camp and late afternoons at pick up have all somehow allowed you to burrow into his heart.
A hand wraps around his bicep, halting him in his steps. He glances at your concerned face and suddenly all that tension leaves him in a rush. Sarah says her goodbye, hugging you around your waist before hopping into the truck, leaving the two of you alone.
“You okay?” You ask, taking a step closer.
“I’m great, sweetheart. Get home safe,” he says, eyes dipping briefly to your mouth. Your tongue pokes out, tracing your lower lip. He takes a step back before he’s tempted to lean in and chase the taste of chocolate and you.
“I’ll see you Monday?”
“Bright and early.”
——————
Sarah spikes a fever Sunday night and spends the night curled around the toilet while Joel coaxes some water into her and keeps her hair out of harm's way. When it seems that the worst of her nausea has passed, Joel leaves her to rest in her bed while he goes downstairs and grabs the contact list you’d given him at the beginning of camp.
He starts a text, letting you know that Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp, at least for today. When it’s sent, he heads back upstairs, armed with a sleeve of crackers to deliver to his daughter.
Maybe he can squeeze in a little bit of sleep for himself.
——————
Hey, it’s Joel. Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp today.
You stare at the text, mind reeling. Not because a parent is texting you, that’s pretty common and you hope Sarah is doing okay, but because you already have a thread with Joel.
One where you’d called him sir and told him his cock would feel so good inside of you because you’d thought you’d been texting Jeremy. Your cheeks feel so hot you worry spontaneous human combustion could actually be a thing.
What are you even supposed to do in this situation? Do you tell him about it?
Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Oh, also, you’ve sent me a picture of your dick.
You delete the last line immediately, hitting your phone against your forehead like doing so might make your thoughts make sense.
Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Any chance you can make good on that promise and bend me over the bed?
You delete the last line again with a groan.
Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Would you be able to meet with me after practice this week? Or sometime this weekend?
You hit send before you can back out, tossing your phone in your bag as you get ready to head out the door.
——————
Joel wakes later in the morning and reads your text message. His mind races with what you could want to talk to him about. Maybe you noticed how he reacted to your friend and wanted to tell him you’re uncomfortable? Or maybe something to do with Sarah?
Fuck, he thinks, scrubbing a hand over his face. He reads the message a few more times but it doesn’t reveal any additional clues. He types out a message, pressing send before he can overthink the contents.
She seems to be doing better. Should be back to camp tomorrow. I can meet you somewhere for dinner on Friday after camp? My treat.
——————
Joel’s text plays on a loop in your brain for the rest of the week. Unlike the previous weeks of camp, he and Sarah don’t show up early. In fact, he’s been dropping her off almost at the last minute and picking her up promptly when camp ends, always managing to show up when you’re already pulled into conversation with another parent and driving off before you have a chance to talk with him.
On Friday, Joel is at the field early, leaning against his truck as he talks to Sarah. You park beside them, and he helps you unload your car and set up for the day, just as he had the weeks prior, making small talk like he hadn’t just spent the week dodging you after suggesting dinner. When everything is unpacked and Sarah is kicking a ball around, you follow Joel to his truck under the guise of needing one more thing from your car.
“Hey, are we still on for dinner?” You ask him. He runs a hand through his hair and you try not to let yourself zero in on the way his bicep flexes with the motion.
“‘Course. How ‘bout I meet you at that diner downtown? The one with the—“
“All day breakfast?” You finish. Joel grins.
“Yeah, that’s the one. Is six good?”
“Six is great.” You smile back at him, lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners and his mouth lifts slightly higher on the right.
“Coach!” Sarah yells, making you jump.
“Guess I better get out there,” you say, shifting nervously.
“Yeah, I’ll uh…I’ll see you later?” He asks.
“Looking forward to it.”
——————
To your surprise, it’s not Joel that picks up Sarah that afternoon, but another man with familiar brown eyes and dark curly hair. You grab your folder from your bag as Sarah greets the man, flipping through the pages until you’ve found her emergency contact form.
“Hey there,” the man says, a grin lighting up his face. “I’m Sarah’s Uncle Tommy.”
You shake the hand he’s held out towards you and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you. Mind if I check your ID for alternate pick up?”
“Go right ahead,” he replies, pulling a worn brown leather wallet from his jeans and handing you his ID from its contents. “Don’t judge the photo, alright? It’s old.”
A younger version of the man in front of you is pictured on the card, his curly dark hair buzzed short and a grim expression on his face. You note the name THOMAS MILLER beside the picture and check it against Sarah’s emergency contact form.
“Thanks, Tommy,” you tell him, handing back the ID. There’s a brief silence where Tommy seems to be assessing you.
“So…,” he says, rocking on his heels, “you’re the girl that’s got Joel all tangled up, huh?”
You blink. “Uh—“
“Uncle Tommy! Let’s go!” Sarah shouts from the parking lot.
“Hold your horses!” Tommy yells. He gives you one last knowing smirk. “Have fun with Joel tonight!”
You watch him jog over to the truck and get behind the wheel, Sarah waving at you as he pulls out of the parking spot. You wave back, but your mind is stuck on Tommy’s words, the implication of them having your stomach doing backflips.
——————
Joel’s fingers fidget with the straw wrapper, ripping it into small pieces that build in a pile on the laminate table while he waits for you to arrive for dinner. He’s still not sure what this is all about and that uncertainty has had him stuck in his head to the point where Tommy was giving him a hard time at work about it.
“Let me know if you need me to stay with Sarah overnight,” Tommy had said as Joel checked himself in the hall mirror one last time before leaving the house.
“It ain’t like that,” he grumbled back, but there was no changing his brother’s mind.
“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”
The bell above the diner door rings with a new customer, pulling Joel from his thoughts. You’ve just walked in wearing a dress, a far cry from the soccer shorts and t-shirt he’s seen you in every day this summer. His gaze is pulled to the tantalizing glimpse of your chest he gets from the deep neckline and the way the fabric swishes against your thighs as you approach.
“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure,” Joel says, giving you what he hopes is a confident smile but he’s almost certain it’s more of a grimace.
A silence settles over the table as you both look at the laminated menus like they hold the secret to the universe. The waitress swings by and takes your orders - chocolate chip waffles for you and a medium rare burger for Joel.
“How’s Sarah doing with the camp?” Joel asks.
“She’s doing great. Easily one of the best players I’ve got this year,” you reply.
“Good that’s…good. You used to play for UT, right?”
“Yep, starting forward until I tore my ACL,” you tell him. “Now I coach because you can take the girl out of soccer but you can’t take the soccer from the girl.”
“That’s impressive,” Joel comments. “Is coaching your full time job?”
“No, I work in marketing for an instrument production company.”
“Really? You play anything?”
“Some guitar, a little piano. Nothing crazy. Do you?”
Joel laughs. “Been a while, but I got a guitar stashed away in a closet somewhere.”
The waitress returns with your food, setting the plates in front of you and asking if either of you need anything else before leaving the two of you to your meals.
Joel is a few bites into his burger when you set your fork down and say, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. You’ve sent me a picture of your dick.”
Joel nearly chokes, sputtering for air around his burger and grabbing his Coke, desperate for relief. He chugs the beverage, tears in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” You ask, wide eyes full of concern.
“No, I’m not okay, what do you mean I’ve sent you a picture of my dick?” He hisses, looking around the mostly empty diner.
“About a month ago I went on a date with that guy I ran into at the ice cream place, Jeremy? We met on a dating app so we were messaging through there and he gave me his number at the end of the night,” you say quickly. “And I texted the number with some…racy photos. And messages.”
Joel feels the rising panic in his chest. No, there’s absolutely no way that random number could have been you. There’s no way he sexted his daughter’s soccer coach.
“I didn’t find out it was you until you texted me about Sarah being sick. I still had the chat with your number,” you finish, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. Joel watches with building dread as you tap on the screen and set the phone on the table, sliding it toward him.
You’ve opened the chat with him, the innocuous messages at the bottom about Sarah missing camp giving way to photo attachments he doesn’t dare click on but remembers vividly. He looks up at you.
“I…I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have replied, the messages weren’t meant for me.”
“I’m not mad,” you assure him. “A little embarrassed, maybe. But also…can I be completely honest?”
“Of course.”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your messages.”
Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You…really?”
“Yeah. And knowing it’s you…,” you say, voice trailing off. Your eyes are dark, a little smirk playing on your lips that has Joel’s cock twitching with interest. “Well, that makes it better.”
“It does?” Joel asks. You nod, picking up a bite of waffle with your fork, a moan of appreciation leaving your lips.
“It does,” you confirm.
Joel turns around in the booth and flags down the waitress.
“Check, please!”
——————
After paying for dinner, Joel walks you to the parking lot, his broad palm on your low back directing you to where his truck is parked.
He’s got you pressed against the passenger door, his chest grazing yours with each breath he takes. He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. His gaze grows dark as you dart your tongue out, flicking it against the digit.
“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he says. Gone is the man who was mortified to find out he’d been sexting you and in his place is the man behind the screen. “You wore this little dress because you knew exactly what you wanted, isn’t that right?”
“Maybe,” you murmur. “You don’t like it?”
“Mm,” he hums, “Ain’t a matter of not likin’ it, trust me.”
His hands grip your hips, the fabric bunching in his fists as he moves a thigh between your legs. The sudden friction of his jeans, even through the barrier of your underwear, has you gasping.
“Joel,” you whimper, grinding over the muscle of his thigh. He kisses along the length of your neck, lips right over your racing pulse. “Come on, take me home.”
“You can ask more nicely than that,” he says, hands guiding the movement of your hips, forward and back, across his thigh. You moan, louder than you intended, too loud for the parking lot of a busy diner at dinner rush.
“Please, sir,” you whisper. “Please, take me home.”
“Cum on my thigh and we can leave,” he replies. “Leave a nice little wet spot on my jeans and then I’ll take you home and make you scream my name as loud as you need to.”
Joel’s lips capture your own, swallowing the curse that was ready to spill from them at his demand. His kiss is rough, demanding, his stubble scratching your skin and his tongue tangling with yours as your hips continue to rock over his leg. You dig your fingers into his hair, holding tightly to him while the knot of need in your belly tightens.
“Come on, baby,” he says when he lifts his head, lips still pressed to your neck. “Make a mess, come on.”
You go still in his hands as your orgasm washes over you, your muscles stiff as your pussy pulses desperately over his thigh. Joel pulls you in for another kiss, this one slow and sweet to bring you back to reality.
When you’ve caught your breath, he steps back, adjusting the skirt of your dress back over your thighs. He looks down at his pants and then back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. You look down, face heating with embarrassment as you notice the dark patch of denim.
“Get in the truck, baby.”
——————
You give Joel directions to your apartment, his warm hand on your thigh the whole way there. Your nerves are buzzing beneath your skin again, the effect of your first orgasm wearing off and your desire building rapidly with each mile closer to your apartment.
He parks in the visitor parking and you move to open the door, but a tan arm reaches across and tugs it shut. Confused, you watch Joel jump from the truck and jog around to the passenger side to pull open your door and hold a hand out to you.
You’re laughing as he helps you from the truck and shuts the door behind you, your giggles persisting as you lead him upstairs and his arms circle your waist while you try to unlock your door. He hustles you across the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him and flipping the deadbolt.
“Bedroom?” He asks.
“End of the hall,” you reply.
Joel pulls you along behind him, a man on a mission. Once inside your room, you flip on your bedside lamp and Joel steps in close, framing your face in his hands and giving you another kiss that has the butterflies in your tummy going wild.
His fingers are curling into the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body and breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His lips are back on yours while his hands map your curves, calloused fingers catching on soft skin and making goosebumps erupt in their wake.
“Get on the bed,” he commands. You turn, crawling onto the mattress slowly, a wiggle in your hips. You look over your shoulder at the older man and find his gaze fixed on your ass. He grins. “You remember what I said last time you teased me?”
“No. I think I need a reminder,” you tell him. He huffs, shaking his head.
“Teasin’ me and gettin’ mouthy? Think that might earn you a punishment.”
Joel palms the cheeks of your ass, pulling them apart in a rough grip that has you gasping his name. His fingers dig into the flesh, the ache of them already making your head spin.
“Five ain’t enough, but it’s all I’ve got the patience for right now,” he says. His tone changes as he asks, “You got a safe word? If I need to stop?”
“Apricots,” you say easily. He tilts his head. “It’s from a TV show. New Girl?”
“Never heard of it,” he says. “Alright, apricots it is.”
He pulls your panties down, leaving them around your thighs. His thumbs spread you apart and the vulnerability of this position, your ass in the air and everything spread for him, by him, has you feeling like you’re on fire.
“Pretty little pussy,” he murmurs. “But I already knew that. Because you’re a dirty fuckin’ girl who sent me pictures just because I told you how to cum. Ain’t that right?”
“Mhm.”
An open palm lands on your right ass cheek, hear blossoming on the spot as you gasp, lurching forward. His hands pull you towards him and he presses down between your shoulder blades, your back arching.
“Don’t move,” he commands. “That was one. You count the next one.”
Another smack across your other cheek, more sharp pain that shifts into dull ache as you mumble, “Two.”
He doles out two more in quick succession, each other making your pussy clench with need. You’re drooling into sheets, a whimpering mess as he runs his fingers through your soaked folds and lets out a deep groan.
“Baby, you’re soaked,” he says. “Fuck, one more, okay? One more and then I’ll have you wrapped around my cock.”
You nod your head, bracing for the final blow across your sensitive skin. The sting of his palm as it lands makes your eyes roll back, the line between pleasure and pain so blurry you don’t know which side you stand on.
His hands leave your hips and without the support, you slide flat to your belly. Distantly, you register the opening of your nightstand drawer and the sound of Joel rummaging through the contents, followed by the muted thump of clothes being discarded to the floor.
Joel maneuvers you to your back in the center of the bed, pulling your panties off. “You did so good, sweetheart,” he praises. You smile at him.
“Do I get a reward now, sir?” You ask.
“‘Course, baby. Good girls get what they deserve.”
His hips press between yours, his cock sliding through your wetness and catching on your clit. He positions the thick head at your slick entrance, pressing in the slightest bit. You take in the sight of him, his broad chest held over you by strong arms, the muscles of his neck tense.
Joel slides in slowly, your body accepting him gratefully. The stretch borders on painful but the fullness has you digging your nails into his back, a moan falling from your lips. It feels like ages before his hips as flush to yours and all you can feel is Joel Joel Joel.
“Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours. “Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good.”
He pulls back slightly, thrusting forward with a sharp snap of his hips. As he starts to set a rhythm, he sits up on his knees, lifting one of your legs up with a hand on the back of your thigh and pressing it to the side. The position opens you up further, letting him get impossibly deeper, and all you can do is allow him to use your body to his liking.
It’s not long before you’re screaming his name, as promised, the knot of pleasure in your core pulling tight and getting ready to snap.
“You gonna cum again for me?” Joel asks, breathing labored as his pace doesn’t falter. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock. You’re such a good fuckin’ girl, I know you can do it.”
“Joel!” You shout, that last thread snapping as your orgasm rushing through you, stars bursting behind your eyelids as they snap shut with the force of it all. Your pussy clenches around him, his hips stuttering and growing sloppy until he’s pressing in deep with a groan of your name.
He collapses on top of you, a heavy weight but not an unwelcome one as you both try to catch your breath, sweat cooling between you. After a moment, his softening cock slips from your body and he rolls to the side, gathering you to his chest.
“Holy shit,” you whisper.
“Yeah,” Joel whispers back. He sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed and grabbing his jeans, pulling his phone free.
He taps on the screen and brings it to his ear, a distant ringing audible through the speaker.
“Tommy? Yeah, everythin’s fine,” Joel says when his call connects. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you stay with Sarah tonight? Shut up,” he grumbles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be back in the mornin’. Thanks, brother.”
Joel hangs up and you raise your eyebrows at him.
“You’re staying?” You ask.
“Yeah, baby. I ain’t finished with you yet,” he replies, pressing a flurry of kisses to your face, neck, and shoulders, sending you into a fit of giggles.
——————
1 Year Later
“Alright, great job, girls! Let’s get your snacks,” you shout as your summer league girls jog towards you from the field following their third tournament game.
The girls crowd around the cooler that Joel’s prepared, grabbing small bottles of Gatorade or water and a bag of orange slices. They lounge around the sidelines and you step up beside Joel, bumping him with your hip.
“Thanks for the snacks,” you say. He grins at you.
“‘Course. Gotta take care of my girls,” he replies. He pulls one last bag of oranges from the cooler. “And one for coach.”
“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask, looping an arm around his waist.
“What can I say? You texted the right wrong number.”
Joel Miller Masterlist
1K notes · View notes
edenesth · 4 months
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The Way to His Heart [1]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Teaser | Fic Masterlist | Part 2
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Park Seonghwa.
As pretty as it may sound, that name was known across the nation as the intimidating military general trusted by His Majesty, the King, to lead the royal army.
For those who have not had the privilege of encountering him in person, the assumption might be of a rugged and perhaps middle-aged individual, given his extensive experience on the battlefield and high military rank. And those who have met him will know that his beauty was just as deadly.
But there's more to it – his renown extends beyond the confines of martial prowess. The general has garnered a reputation for scaring away all potential marriage candidates. His cold nature isn't limited to the battlefield; it extends to his personal life, affecting even the people closest to him.
In essence, Seonghwa was not a figure most people would look forward to meeting at all. If anything, most tended to avoid him like the plague. His name alone was enough to instil terror, be it in enemies, common folk, or even nobles.
But he was more than fine with it.
The general took pleasure in the fear that gripped anyone crossing his path. He had no interest in being loved or admired. The bloodshed inherent in his job brought him ample satisfaction, and the accompanying title and wealth were merely added perks.
One thing that irked him more than anything else was the King's relentless insistence that he should marry.
You see, he lacked the capacity for love, having grown up devoid of any such affection. All he cared for was his own survival. He understood, more than anyone, that trust was a rare commodity on this earth. Those close to him always harboured their own motives. The concept of genuine love or care was as good as non-existent in his dictionary.
His parents, if they could even be called that, abandoned him by a dumpster outside an orphanage. Born prematurely and deemed likely to die soon, they left him for dead. However, his determination to survive surpassed all expectations. He fought through the years and emerged as the person he is today.
Seonghwa's entire childhood was marked by brawls fighting for survival and to earn a living. But then fate took a turn when a perceptive military soldier scouted him, recognising the untapped potential within.
Rising from the bottom, his borderline cold-blooded character propelled him swiftly up the ranks, achieving remarkable progress within just a couple of years. His notoriety soon echoed in the ears of the King, and almost in the blink of an eye, he ascended to become one of the youngest generals in history.
And that was how he learned, through the hard way, that one would have to be useful in order to be valued. He has seen enough to understand it was a dog-eat-dog world.
The King favoured him solely for his skills, his servants stuck around for the generous pay, and every potential spouse presented to him was merely interested in his wealth or title.
This time would be no different.
"Seonghwa-yah, you're not young anymore, my boy. It's time for you to get married and have a few kids. Otherwise, who would succeed you? It would be such a shame for your bloodline to die with you." His Majesty said, a concerned frown creasing his wrinkled forehead.
The general lowered his head to conceal the smirk on his face. See? That's exactly what he meant. One would be foolish to believe that the King genuinely wanted the best for him; all the old man cared about was ensuring the continuation of his legacy.
Before Seonghwa could present another argument, as he always did, the King raised a hand to halt him, "That's enough; you have rejected all my previous proposed matches and deliberately scared off some of your betrothed as well. I may have been too lenient with you. This time, you will get married, and that's final."
He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration, "But, your Majesty—"
The King shook his head, "Seonghwa, you will be stripped of your title if you do not cooperate."
That was enough to silence him.
He had worked tirelessly to reach his current position; it would be stupid to jeopardise it all over a refusal to marry. The whole idea seemed utterly outrageous; the old man must be senile to be threatening him over something so trivial.
But what choice did he have?
None.
"Fine, as you wish." The general sighed.
His Majesty's demeanour swiftly changed, breaking into laughter and applause, "Oh, that's wonderful! We already have a perfect candidate for you anyway. The Minister of Military Affairs has offered his eldest daughter's hand. I'm sure she would make a lovely wife for you."
"Has he now? How thoughtful of him."
Seonghwa wasn't stupid; he recognised that the minister harboured resentment regarding his recent ascent in the ranks. The old fool was undoubtedly anxious about preserving his own position and was actively exploring ways to subdue the younger man's progress, going to great lengths just to keep the general from outranking him.
As the assembly with the King concluded that day, Minister Jang was quick to intercept Seonghwa before he could exit the palace, "General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her." The elder man remarked smugly.
"Oh, I'm sure I will." He sneered, shrugging off the minister's hand before storming off.
Arriving at his estate, a servant approached the general with a tray of tea, "Welcome home, master," Having suppressed his anger for too long, he couldn't hold back any longer. He smacked the tray out of the poor woman's hands, growling, "Get out of my goddamned sight this instant." She bowed repeatedly, apologising profusely as she picked up the tray and the broken cup before scurrying away.
He slammed the door to his study open, nearly scaring the living daylights out of his only trusted aide, Jongho, "S-sir, is everything alright?" The assistant asked tentatively.
Seonghwa grumbled as he kicked his desk aside to sit in his chair, "The King demanded that I get married and even threatened to strip me of my title if I refused. I need you to dig up some information on Minister Jang's family; that man is up to something."
Jongho bowed once and rushed off to do as he was told, "Will do, sir."
Glaring at his desk, he clenched his fists at the thought of his future wife. Considering her hateful father, she likely resembled him. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He was more than ready to face the likes of her, having successfully scared off a few spoiled brats before.
More unbearable to him than the King's incessant pressure for him to marry was the presence of irritating little pests, manifested in the form of noblewomen from wealthy families—the entitled sort who believed they were superior to everyone else.
All the encounters he had experienced so far were with that particular breed. If given the chance, he would gladly eradicate every single one of those seemingly useless, good-for-nothing individuals. Without a doubt, his wife-to-be would be another one of those insufferable girls.
Be prepared, wife. Life is about to become quite exhilarating for you.
"Gather around, kids. I have news!" Your father announced as he entered the family estate, cheerfully wrapping his arm around his second wife, your stepmother.
"What's going on, father?" Jinah asked, eagerly joining her two sisters, Jinhee and Jinjoo.
The man let out a tired sigh when he realised you were nowhere in sight, "Where is she?"
Jinhee scoffed, "You mean unnie? In her cage, of course. This is a family meeting; why would we need her around?"
The minister directed a nearby servant, "Fetch her to the main hall; I have an announcement to make." The three sisters and their mother exchanged intrigued glances, wondering what this unexpected proclamation could entail.
Staring numbly out of your tiny room window, you ponder the meaning of life. What was the point of being born if every member of your own family shunned you? To be fair, only your father is family; your stepmother and stepsisters are mere outsiders. Yet, even he hasn't bothered to treat you as such.
Your mother might have been the sole person to ever love you, but you couldn't possibly be sure. Unfortunately, she hadn't been alive long enough for you to remember much about her.
Could she have had any love for you, even when she herself lacked affection from her own husband?
That, you'll never know the answer to.
You've heard that your father had no choice but to marry your mother for political reasons and that your stepmother had been his mistress at the time. When your mother finally fell sick and died, he seized the opportunity to marry the harlot and take in all three of her bastard daughters.
Life has been nothing but hell ever since.
No one has treated you like a lady from a noble house; not even the servants were allowed to do so.
All you could remember was pain.
Endless pain all throughout your childhood.
In fact, the pain still persisted until this day, you felt it acutely in the numerous spots on your body, each a testament to the beatings you endured regularly as punishment. And those punishments were often for things you didn't do—blatant lies told by your stepsisters that your father used as an excuse to unleash his wrath.
Excluded from all family activities, even meals, you survived on leftovers and were confined to your quarters with nothing to occupy your time. It felt as if you were treated worse than the estate's servants, receiving only enough sustenance to keep you alive. You were more like a punching bag, there solely for their tormenting pleasure.
No one would acknowledge you in this household. You were as good as dead until one of your family members wished to have some fun, your misery providing the best entertainment.
So, imagine your surprise when you were summoned to the main hall for an announcement. Why does your presence suddenly matter? The curiosity gnaws at you as you reluctantly make your way to the gathering, wondering what twist of fate awaits you this time.
Cowering shamefully, you faced the evident disgust in your stepmother's and stepsisters' eyes as they took in your shabby appearance.
You struggled to figure out where to sit.
Approaching the only available seat next to the youngest, Jinjoo, you trudged over timidly, only for her to intentionally spill her cup of tea on the chair, "Oops! My bad, unnie. I guess you'll have no choice but to stand." You wished the ground would swallow you as everyone around snickered into their fists.
You looked over to your father, hoping he might stand up for you, only for your heart to sink in disappointment as usual when he averted his gaze with a clear of his throat, "Alright, now that you're all here, I have news to share." He announced, leaving you standing awkwardly in the corner, unnoticed and unwanted.
"Something interesting happened at the assembly with His Majesty this morning," Your father announced, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him, eagerly awaiting the big revelation of this announcement, "The King has pressured General Park to marry once again, and this time, he was serious."
You noticed the expressions of your stepsisters turning fearful at the mere mention of the famous general.
"I figured it would be good to establish a connection with the general, considering his powerful standing in the military. So, I offered my daughter's hand to him in marriage."
Your stepsisters all gasped simultaneously.
"Father! How could you do such a thing to us?! Haven't you heard? That general is a monster! He scared off all of his previous fiancées. Do you have any clue how he'll treat us?" Jinah screeched tearfully.
But her mother calmed her with a sly smile, "Oh, you silly girls, why did you think your elder sister is here for?"
Oh.
Remaining rooted to the spot, you took in the shocking news. Your supposed family cheered at the announcement, their excitement palpable.
"Oh, unnie! You're finally making yourself useful for once!" Jinhee laughed, and your father nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "That's right, my dear. You've always struggled to find a purpose in life, haven't you? Perhaps you'll grow to love your new life with General Park. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."
Everything turned into a blur as they celebrated what felt like your demise. Dismissed to your quarters, you retreated, letting the weight of the information sink in.
You had heard of General Park; how could you not? He was only the most feared person in the entire country.
Perhaps, in a twisted way, that could be a good thing. If he were to end your miserable life once and for all, it might be a mercy for you too.
After all, you had had enough of this life.
On the day you were set to marry Park Seonghwa, you were puzzled to find a group of servants sent to your quarters, armed with some of the finest clothes you'd ever seen, "What is this?" You questioned, eyeing the luxurious garments with scepticism.
The head of the maids sighed, "Young miss, you are marrying as the eldest daughter of Minister Jang. Surely, you have to at least look the part, yes?"
Oh.
That made sense.
Of course, it was all to make your father look good. Who would care about you?
Resigned, you sat like a doll as they worked on enhancing your appearance, transforming you into a vision of refinement. You observed their extra effort to conceal the remnants of bruises and scars from years of torture.
"All done." The head maid declared as they turned you around to face the mirror. As your eyes met your reflection, you failed to recognise the person staring back at you. You hadn't known you were capable of looking... what do they call it? Beautiful?
But this was only temporary.
You couldn't possibly fool the general forever with makeup. Sooner or later, he would see just how ugly and broken you were underneath all these artificial lies. And he, too, will be just as disgusted as everyone else. When that happens, you are mentally prepared for all the possible outcomes.
How much worse could it get?
After all, you had already endured a lifetime of hell. Surely, the torment couldn't be as severe as what you had experienced all these years... right?
One of the elderly servants, always watching you from a distance with pity in her eyes, approached you as the others dispersed. Her frail but warm hand landed on your shoulder as you met her gaze through the mirror.
With a kind smile, she nodded encouragingly, "I hope you find happiness out there, young miss." You didn't know why your eyes grew wet at those words as you watched her leave with the rest. The unexpected warmth in her gesture lingered, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignited within you.
Happiness?
You weren't sure you even knew what that word meant, but perhaps you'll learn the meaning of it outside of these walls. These walls that felt so much like prison all these years, it's almost funny how it was supposed to be your home.
Truthfully, you didn't think you'd ever live to see the day you would be allowed to leave this wretched place. Caged in here all your life, does anyone even know of your existence?
Perhaps not.
Well, now they might.
Heading to the entrance of the Jang estate, you carried little belongings, close to none.
Your family stood around, excited to see you off. The devious smirks on your stepsisters' faces faltered slightly at your transformed appearance before they scoffed, "Who would've thought? Guess you could actually fool someone looking like that. Just wait till he realises how useless you actually are." Jinhee sneered.
But Jinjoo snickered, "Oh, I'm sure she'll be useful in certain ways."
Jinah burst into laughter at the implication, "Oh yes! Give us plenty of nieces and nephews to play with, yeah?"
Your face burned with humiliation as they made fun of you, as they always did, "That is if she's strong enough to survive him in the first place." Your stepmother muttered, chuckling slyly.
Your father took a step toward you, "There's no time to waste; now get going. Don't you dare make me look bad."
You bowed before turning to leave, but a surge of courage prompted you to look back at your father one last time, croaking, "Father... have you truly never cared for me at all? For my happiness?"
He clenched his jaw, his response cutting, "Don't make me laugh; you and that mother of yours have only ever been a pain to me."
That hurt.
Why did it hurt?
It wasn't news to you. But still, it hurt.
"You want happiness? Find it with him then."
« Preview of Part 2 »
The night before the wedding, Seonghwa lifted his gaze from his scrolls to find his aide arriving slightly out of breath, "Have you found anything, Jongho?"
The assistant nodded after bowing, "Not much on the rest of the family; everything about them is just as known by the public. However, I did uncover more information about the eldest daughter, your bride."
The general straightened in his seat, "What about her?"
With a frown, Jongho continued, "It seems not much is known about her, despite being the eldest. She's the only daughter of Minister Jang's first wife, and no one has seen her set foot out of the estate since her mother's passing. Most sources claim her to be a mystery."
Seonghwa smirked, leaning back in his chair, "She must be quite precious for her father to keep her hidden all these years. Oh, I'll treat her well, all right. Get the head maid to prepare her quarters."
Jongho nodded curtly, feeling a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the sarcastic grin on his master's face.
"Only the best for future Lady Park."
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I just want to emphasise that this is NOT a sequel/prequel or extension to Seonghwa's part from my 'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series. This is a completely different story taking place in an entirely different universe.
Also, while this may be in the Joseon era, I do apologise if some of the details may not be historically accurate. After all, this is only a work of fiction, so please enjoy!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts, feedback or reviews! I love hearing all about it! <3
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
707 notes · View notes
smutoperator · 8 months
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Get It Like Boom Boom Boom
Kim Chaewon x Male Reader
Tags: anal, creampie, dirty talk, dominant woman, facefucking, grinding, multiple orgasms, ruined orgasm.
Word count: 2839.
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Chaewon is a girl with not many moments for herself. Between her hectic schedules and her tough job as a leader of one of the most famous new kpop groups, pleasure is hard to come by. However, she always manages to get some deserved escapes from such a strenuous schedule. Tonight she wants it to be one of those nights where she leaves all the stress behind her and just gets to enjoy herself.
"I'm in need of a thrill I haven't experienced in a long time", she told herself. Searching her phone she finds your contact. You hadn't met Chaewon since the moment Iz*one became a page in kpop's history. Since then, she had switched agencies, debuted under a new group and rose to new levels of fame. She was busy and never called you, That is, until this day.
You got surprised when you got her message. "I want to come to your apartment, have some fun you know". You thought she would have just forgotten about an old fling she hadn't seen in years, but it wasn't the case. As you learned, Chaewon always remembers everything.
You had a tough day at work, tired and trying not to sleep, you waited for Chaewon. The night passed by: 7 PM, 8 PM, 9 PM, almost 10, and she hadn't showed up. Maybe she was just pulling a prank on you, but then she finally arrived, wearing a sultry black dress that caught you by surprise. You were still wearing your work attire as you were so tired you couldn't even take it off. "How are you doing?", she asked. "Better than ever", you lied to her. "That's nice to hear", she replied.
Chaewon quickly made up for the wasted time as she unbuttoned your shirt and sit on your lap. "Let's make it even better", she said, gripping her nails against your torso as she slid her hands down your body. It wasn't long until she unbuttoned your pants, revealing your massive member down there. Chaewon grabbed your cock with both hands and started smiling, eager to take on your full length. She took one lick from the bottom to the top and released a little cute moan, before taking it in her mouth. You quickly got aroused, despite looking extremely sleepy.
Chaewon took that cock down her throat, reminding you of how good her blowjob abilities were from the get go. You could only admire as she took it balls deep until gagging, then picked up the pace as she jerked you off. The way she slurped all over it quickly sent shivers down your spine, as she took it again deep in her throat. Chaewon got bragged about her skills, telling you "I should have made you wait even more for that, so easy". She was both being a cocky sucker and a cocksucker to you.
"Fuck my face", she told you, as you thrust upwards into her pussy-esque throat. Dok dok dok dok the sound of that pole hitting her deep in the hole. Chaewon took a deep breath and released your cock, screaming "HOLY FUCK YEAH!", sucking it even harder and not caring if you were to cum right there. However, just as she sensed you were getting close, she said "See you tomorrow" and abruptly left the room. You were confused, maybe she just wanted a little fun, what if she was lying to you? But you just had to resign yourself to sleep.
Just as you sensed your clothed penis being touched by a piece of fabric, you heard a familiar voice. "Wake up", it was Chaewon, sitting herself on your morning wood. It was definitely worth the wait as your cock looked much fuller than yesterday, and you had recovered your energies.
"I wanna see if that's good enough to destroy my ass", Chaewon told you. What a difference from that girl you met years ago that asked you to be gentle because your cock was the first she took up her ass. Now it's like breakfast for her, just a regular part of her sex diet. "You looked rusty last night, maybe you were just beginner level", she mocked you. "No I'm fine", you told her. "I'm not so sure you're strong enough to take on me again", she trashed talked you while grinding her clothed pussy against your hard dick, taking off her bra and moaning softly.
Chaewon turned back and asked again if you were strong enough. You replied positively to her. "Then show me", she shot back, grabbing your cock and restarting to suck it off just like the day before, this time giving you a panoramic view of her ass in lingerie. "Look at this big fucking cock, it's gonna look so good in my ass", she said, before deepthroating you.
"Fuck it deep into my throat", she ordered you as you pounded even harder and deeper inside it. Chaewon had a throat of steel it seemed, as she could take all those poundings while barely gagging. "MORE", she screamed as she coughed on your veiny prick. "Punch it in there, daddy". Gagging, sucking, spitting, jerking, Chaewon did them all with your cock. "You love it on my whore mouth don't you?", she kept provoking. "Look how I am such a nasty fucking slut with this dick daddy", she said, turning you on to fuck her face even harder.
"I want every inch of it in my asshole, hit it just you hit the back of my fucking whore mouth", Chaewon teased you. "God I want this fucking cock inside me so bad, shove it deep in my ass daddy", she kept saying, giving you tender kisses. You put her back facing the sky, taking her panties off and preparing her for the pounding. Chaewon got on all fours and tilted her ass to the sky and shoved it in your face, twerking it as you were eating her bunghole. "I know what you fucking want", she said.
As you tongued her anus first with deep movements then going rapidly up and down, Chaewon told you to keep going, "Shove that tongue in my asshole", she said. Chaewon now lost all her composure, looking like a mess in distress. "Oh yes daddy", she uttered alongside many loud moans as you kept showing your tongue and even sniffing your nose up her butthole. You spat in her shitter, a move that drew lots of approval from this little whore. "Spit in there, daddy, get it warmed up for that big cock". Many could only wish to taste her forbidden fruit, but you were the lucky one taking it fully.
And indeed, a few spits was all you needed. Her hole was very tight but once you managed to get your tip in, it engulfed your cock like a black hole engulfs light. "Bury that hard dick inside me", Chaewon ordered, and was quickly served. "Now we are talking, make that asshole yours daddy", Chaewon said alternating between moans and screams that only got louder. "Give it to me", she said.
As you stretched her shithole, Chaewon behaved more and more like a whore. "That dick is so big inside me, so good, so deep". The harder Chaewon told you to fuck her ass, the deeper you went, slapping her balls against her cunt and make her feel even more sensations quivering into her body. You spanked her asscheeks, your balls clapping against them as you went faster and harder inside her anus
"FUUUCK, YESSS, stuff me like that", Chaewon uttered. "Fuck me like a whore, slap those balls like boom boom boom", she said, asking for more just as you pulled out, she still on all fours. But not for long. "Please give me more", she asked. And sure you did, mounting on top of her like a bull, while she fingered herself to get even more stimulation. "I love how you shove those balls deep inside me", she told you, and then screamed the hardest moan yet.
"Stretch it wide open", she kept ordering, grabbing your cock with her hands and directing it inside her butthole. "God keep me fucking like this you're gonna make me cum", she told you. "Make me cum daddy, don't fucking stop", she said just as you hit her balls deep. Chaewon then stuffed two of her fingers in her pussy, fucking it herself and getting close to cum. "You are so deep in my ass, let me spread that asshole", Chaewon said, before releasing her juices into the bedsheets as you kept burying it inside her. "Daddy I can't get enough, my ass is so fucking full". Just a few seconds of you pulling it out already had her begging to shove it in. "Stuff me all the way up".
Boom boom boom got your balls slapping on her. "YES I'M CUMMING", she screamed, while twerking her ass against your hips to get that boom boom boom you were giving her even harder. The little mess, still recovering from her orgasm, pulled out and went straight up to taste her nasty butthole straight from your cock. You gave her no rest, fucking her skull just as she inserted her filthy mouth in your prick. "You taste so good out of my ass", she replied, followed by a succession of jerk offs and ordering you to shove it the back of her throat, her eyes rolling as her throat got smacked by your big sausage.
Chaewon spat on your cock, quickly asking "don't you love that sloppy tongue all over that cock daddy? Milking the shit out of it", she said as she started licking your balls like an insane slut. You told her to turn around and shoved it back in her asshole, well lubed by her excelled blowjob skills. Now she could only moan and scream as you kept stretching her. "That ass is all fucking yours daddy, keep stretching me like a bitch", she said.
You switched positions, taking her ass in a spooning position, where now you could see the reaction on her face every time you pumped her. As you started to finger her cunt, Chaewon quickly reacted "shove those fingers in my pussy daddy please, I love getting both my fuckholes stuffed. FUCK ME LIKE THE SLUT I AM". You kept going, now spitting on her pussy, to which Chaewon engulfed it like it was your cum filling her womb. That whore was insatiable, the more you attacked and destroyed her, the more she kept asking for it.
"Fuck me harder, fuck me like a little fucking slut, or just fuck me, I don't care", she kept telling you. "HARDER, HARDER", Chaewon was begging. She really wanted that boom boom boom sound of your balls clapping against her again, it was such a huge turn on. Once she got it, her already wet pussy started to cream even further. "BABY YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM AGAIN". You groaned as you keep shoving it, her telling lies about loving you beyond that throbbing member you were using to stretch her.
You kept pounding Chaewon, while also slapping her wet pussy and put your fingers on her needy mouth. "Keep going keep going, fuck me harder", she kept telling you, demanding you nothing but your best. "Fuck me up daddy". She was taking your stamina like no whore had ever done. "Don't stop, I'm gonna fucking cum", and she finally did, as you boom boom boom'd her ass once again. "That cock looks so good, that big thick yummy cock", she said. Chaewon set things straight, only praising you after you made her cum.
Chaewon spread her cheeks, showing you her gaped poop chute after the pounding you gave her. "Yes I love how you gape my asshole", she told you. "Look how I only spread that asshole wide open only for you daddy. I just came, and you're gonna make me fucking cum again". Chaewon kept getting sluttier and sluttier, but she wasn't done yet. "Fuck me harder baby, shove it up my guts, destroy me. I love those balls pounding against me. Fuck me like your little bitch", she kept telling you.
Chaewon took a break to suck your cock again, giving her classic sloppy blowjob. The little cocksucker shoved it balls deep, as you also dunked her head deep into your meaty pole. You kept fucking, but her throat just didn't bulge. "I want you to ride that cock", you told, trying to save your face against an insatiable Chaewon. She quickly sat on it and saw you thrust upwards against her asshole. But she didn't cave in easily, taking herself control of the ride and putting you on the verge of cumming, making you search for the worst thoughts deep inside your head just so you wouldn't give in.
"I wanna fucking milk it", Chaewon stated her intentions loud and clear, it was now a battle to not cum inside her butthole. You had enough of it and decided to take control, giving Chaewon a full nelson. But that only made her fire burn harder. "Slap those balls against me, spread that ass like I'm the biggest whore". "Keep it wide open", you answer back. "Yes use me baby, fuck that tight little asshole", Chaewon was quick and punched back. You spanked her cheeks, fingered her pussy, but nothing seemed to throw her out of her rythm. "Make my legs shake, fuck my asshole", she said.
You kept doing the work and pounding her down low but the one enjoying the ride was Chaewon, draining your energy while hers seemed endless. "Wreck that little asshole, fuck it hard, I can't get enough", Chaewon quickly pulled out and sat on your sweaty face, grinding that pussy and anus against your skin. "Yes daddy", Chaewon said as you ate both her fuckhole, quickly moving to another session of sitting on your hard cock, she wouldn't rest until you unleashed that white milk, and you knew that.
"Pound it up against me, that's your fucking asshole", Chaewon's incentives were hard to resist. "YES I'M CUMMING", Chaewon screamed as she released a fountain of squirt from her pussy, quickly recovering for another wild ride, and then speading her legs getting herself out to swallow your big dick down her throat. "I want more", she said as you spread her cheeks and gave her another full nelson. "Use my little fucking shithole, open me wide. Baby I need you to fuck me harder". Chaewon got out of breath as you pump on her harder than ever. "GET IT LIKE BOOM BOOM BOOM, GET IT LIKE BOOM BOOM BOOM", she started to sing like you were just a stage for her to perform. And what a performance she was giving.
"Come here", you told her. You had finally waived the white flag, putting her in missionary until you manage to cum inside her fudge factory. Chaewon knew it, telling how weak you were and begging you to be a real man and give her the biggest shot of semen she had ever got. She moaned as you put your finger in her pussy and kept going in and out of, according to her own words, gaped asshole.
"Pump it, pump it", she told you like a motivator. "Look at my whore eyes while you fuck me. Yes daddy, bury it in there, I'm such a fucking whore, my asshole is so fucking filled, my little pink asshole. Use that fuckhole, it's all yours". Chaewon couldn't stop talking, claiming her victory over you. "Tear me up, tear that asshole, fuck me like your dirty little whore".
You spit again in her asshole, Chaewon giving once again approval "you're spitting cause you wanna cum inside there don't you?". You finger her pussy, eliciting more moans from her "Don't stop, make me fucking cum again", she mandated. "HARDER HARDER I'M GONNA CUM", she screamed right after, her pussy sending a flow of juices right to your hips, her holes clenching and making yourself get close too.
"I wanna feel that warm hot load buried in my asshole. I wanna feel that cock exploding inside me. Give me every drop of that milky load, make me your cumslut, please, please, please", Chaewon said, and just like thar as she uttered those words, an explosion of sperm was felt hitting the depths of her shithole, your fully swollen cock giving in. Chaewon scooped it out straight into her mouth, swallowing that jizz like the slut she was. And just like that, it was over, it didn't even looked like it lasted under 40 minutes as you felt like she gave you a four hour fuck.
And if girls wanna have fun, Chaewon surely did after that.
My first smut. Maybe it was too repetitve but the point is simple: queen Chaewon getting fucked in the ass with many references from Le Sserafim's extremely milked hit mostly known as Get it Like Boom Boom Boom.
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withwritersblock · 1 month
Text
I Was In Love
~I Was In Love by Born Without Bones~
Author's Note: I think this may actually be my favorite song and one shot I've done so far :) oh also italics as always are flashbacks Summary: Luke and Y/N have a complicated history: Quinn is stuck in the middle of it Warnings: implied smut, swearing, some other things I probably should add but I'm not sure Word Count: 5,485 Luke Hughes x fm!reader
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He was only supposed to walk her back to her dorm building, but then it started raining. There was no way she was going to let him walk back to his dorm building with the pouring rain. So he stepped inside, it was innocent until it wasn’t. 
She wasn’t sure how it happened but his lips were sucking the skin right above her collarbone as his hands were massaging her breast through the lace of her bra. She panted hard as she pulled her fingers through the thickness of his curls. 
He lifted his head and looked down towards her, a smile on his lips as he kissed her urgently. “Is this okay?” he asked as he looked deeply into her eyes.
“Very,” she muttered before she sealed her lips over his once more. She tugged at the hem of his black button up. He stood up as he began unbuttoning it, a wide toothy grin on his lips as he looked over her gorgeous frame. She bit her lip excitedly as he leaned towards her again, the shirt completely unbuttoned, his muscles in full view. He kissed her lips briefly before he flung the shirt away from his body.
Her hands wrapped around the base of his neck, running her fingers through his curls as he kept one hand beside her head as he was holding himself up and his other hand was gripping her hip.  He slowly pulled his lips from hers, meeting her gaze for a brief second as he began to trail wet kisses from her jawline and lower and lower on her body. He wanted to taste every part of her and she wanted to feel his tongue on every single part of her body. 
The rest of the night went by in a blurr. She never thought that her longest friend, her best friend, would be in her bed doing things she could only allow her mind to go. But he did and it was the best sex she ever had.
She woke up to see him already awake and staring towards the ceiling. She smiled softly as she looked towards him, but the frown on his lips slipped the smile off of hers instantly.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she rubbed her hand across her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he stood up searching the room for his shirt and pants that he came into her room wearing. His boxers the only thing covering his frame, “We were drunk, we shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry,” 
“Well yeah but what if we could be-”
He pulled his jeans up his frame, quickly buttoning them as he avoided her gaze. “You’re the last person I wanted to have a drunken hookup with, I’m sorry.” he said while shaking his head. He picked his shirt up from the floor as he covered his frame, “Can we talk about this later? I’m running late for practice,” he offered as he quickly slipped on his shoes and left the dorm room.
She sat up straight, feeling her eyes well up in tears. It was as if her heart completely shattered at that moment. All she has ever wanted was to be something more with Luke. She was madly in love with him and maybe that was her turning point, last night. She thought maybe that meant he was in love with her too.
That was five months ago. They never spoke about it again, rarely saw each other again. Luke had moved to New Jersey to pursue his dream of playing in the NHL. They only briefly saw each other during passing at school before he left. She avoided him the entire time and it felt like he was avoiding her too.
Except today was the first day that she was going to see him again. A few years ago, the older Hughes brother’s bought the lakehouse that was directly next to their longest family friends growing up. Y/N and her family. She was driving her own car towards her lakehouse, like she’s done since she was sixteen. Except the entire time she was filled with dread as her boyfriend, Kyle, was sitting in the passenger seat beside her. 
They had only been together for three months but her parents agreed to let him join and she was excited to spend the time with Kyle but also hating the idea that she would have to see Luke and Kyle in the same room.
She nervously tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as they pulled into her spot in the garage as it was big enough to hold two spots. 
“So these guys that own the place next door, are we going to be seeing them a lot?” Kyle asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Y/N widened her eyes slightly as she forced a smile.
“They should be inside right now actually,” Y/N mumbled as she reluctantly unbuckled her seatbelt. She didn’t want to see Luke again, except every part of her body felt weak knowing he was only a few doors away. 
“Good, I mean it’s good to meet them now,” he muttered as he pushed the passenger door open and climbed out of the car. She followed in pursuit. He waited for her at the door to enter her house with a kind smile. She returned it as she wrapped her arms around his chest giving him a quick hug.
“I’m excited to spend the next few weeks with you,” she mumbled against her chest. He kissed the side of her head before he pulled away. They stepped inside the house, “Can you actually put our suitcases and stuff in my room, right over there?” she asked, suddenly wanting to see the brothers by herself first. 
Kyle nodded excitedly before he stepped out of the door towards the car again. Y/N took a deep breath as she walked through the hallway leading towards her kitchen. 
The three boys were hanging out around the kitchen island. Quinn was sitting on a barstool chair holding a seltzer against his lips. Jack was sitting on the countertop staring at his phone. Luke was leaning against the countertop as he was snacking on some of the chips her mother probably set up for them.
“You guys do realize your house is next door right?” she said as she walked towards the kitchen.
Quinn turned around and smiled widely when he saw her walking towards the three of them. Jack hopped off of the counter as he chuckled. Luke turned his gaze towards her and looked as if he saw a ghost. He stayed frozen as he watched her walk towards them.
“Your mom buys the best snacks,” Quinn said excitedly as he engulfed her in a tight hug. “How’ve you been?” he asked as he rested his hand onto her upper arm, surveying her features. Jack jogged towards her hugging her tightly, she laughed as she rocked back and forth with him.
“I’ve been doing good, how are you guys?” she said as Jack pulled away. She glanced towards Luke, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she stepped inside the house.
“Off season started a bit early but otherwise we’re great, ready for some sun,” Quinn muttered as he pulled Y/N to his side again, Quinn looked towards Luke for a few seconds, “Lukey, are you going to say hi?” Quinn offered tilting his head to the side.
Luke shook his head slightly as he stood up from his leaning position and he took a deep breath as he began walking towards her and Quinn slowly.
“Well, actually I should go check on Kyle. Make sure he didn’t get lost,” she slipped from Quinn’s grasp as she started walking away from them.
“Kyle?” Luke let out. Y/N spun around to meet Luke’s gaze. She widened her eyes as she nodded.
“My boyfriend? Did my mom not tell you guys he was joining us for a few weeks out here?” she offered.
“Y/N?” Kyle called out from the back hallway. She forced a smile as she searched down the hall for him.
“Hey baby,” she said as she stepped into her bedroom, her voice echoing into the kitchen.
“Kyle?” Jack let out barely above a whisper, his face scrunched up in disgust. “Did you know she had a boyfriend?” Jack pointed his question to Luke. Luke crossed his arms over his chest as he shook his head. Jack stared towards him furrowing his eyebrows harshly, “Why are you acting weird?” 
“I’m not,” he mumbled before he started shoving more chips in his mouth. Quinn and Jack shared a look before they decided to drop it. 
Y/N and Kyle walked from the hallway together side by side. Hearing his heavy footsteps, Luke kept his gaze on the sour cream and onion chips in front of him as he continued to snack. Y/N nervously wrapped her arm around Kyle as she walked towards the kitchen.
“Kyle, these are the boys,” she muttered motioning towards them, “That’s Quinn, Jack, and that’s L-Luke,” she pointed out each of the guys individually. Quinn and Jack walked towards the pair, each of them forcing a smile. 
“Nice to meet you,” Quinn offered his hand and Kyle gladly took it. Kyle offered his hand towards Jack and he reluctantly took the handshake. 
Luke leaned upward from his leaning position as he slowly walked towards the small group. Y/N looked towards him, their eyes meeting for the first time in months. Her breath caught in her throat as she forced her gaze to meet Kyle. 
Kyle offers his hand to Luke and Luke shakes his hand with a polite smile. “You go to UMich?” Luke asked as he rested his hands on his hips. 
Kyle nodded, “Yeah, I’m on the wrestling team,” he smiled as he spoke. 
“That’s sick,” Quinn offered as he crossed his arms over his chest. 
The small group continued to talk to one another beside Luke. He kept watching Y/N, his longest friend, his best friend. The woman he loved, in a relationship with someone else. The last time they hung out crossed his mind, like it did a thousand times a day. 
He freaked out. He freaked out when he woke up with her back pressed against his chest and their legs entangled together. His heart swelled with so much happiness as he looked at her sleeping beside him that morning, except every other part of his body resorted to panic. 
His eyes meet Y/N’s gaze, scanning her features for any sign that she thinks about that night too. She clenched her jaw before she turned her gaze back to Quinn. Luke pulled his lips between his teeth as he dropped his gaze to the floor. 
“I’m going to go unpack my stuff,” Luke let out as his gaze met each person in the small room. Quinn pulled his head back as he let out a breathy chuckle. 
“You never unpack when we come here,” Quinn offered.
“Feel like using my dresser for once,” he said with a simple shrug before glancing towards Y/N one more time before he started walking out of the kitchen. 
“We should probably unpack too,” Kyle said as he rested his hand on her hip as he held her possessively to his side. Y/N nodded as the pair walked back towards her room, she spun her gaze around towards the back door that Luke walked out of.
Quinn and Jack looked towards each other awkwardly as they both started walking out of the back door. “They’re acting weird, right?” Jack asked.
“Very,” Quinn shot back as they walked out of the house back towards their own.
After another twenty minutes Quinn and Jack both barged into Luke’s room to see him actually unpacking his clothes and putting them into his dresser and closet. He had soft country music playing as he was pacing around the room putting things in random spots.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked as he watched his younger brother. Luke only hummed as a reply as he added his hoodies to a coat hanger. “Are you sure? You and Y/N never shut up when you two are together.” Jack observed. 
“We haven’t really talked these past few months,” he said as he walked towards his closet with the six hoodies he brought with him. 
“You guys used to never go a day without at least calling each other,” Quinn mumbled. 
Luke shrugged, “Things change,” he said keeping his gaze low and away from his brothers bombarding him with questions.
“What things?” Jack muttered. Luke shrugged his shoulders again.
Quinn furrowed his eyebrows harshly, “What, you guys hook up or something?” he asked teasingly, chuckling nervously.
Luke froze, his entire body stuck as he slowly met Quinn’s gaze for a few seconds before he shook his head. “No,” he let out barely above a whisper. He dropped his gaze again as his cheeks turned bright red. 
Jack’s eyes widened as his mouth dropped open as he shoved Quinn to the side. “When?!” Jack asked as he jumped up excitedly. 
“I said we didn’t,” Luke said as he nervously ran his hand across his chin. 
Quinn smiled widely, “Yeah but you're a horrible liar, Lukey. What happened? Was it bad or something?” 
It was the opposite. It was probably the best sex he’s ever had. It made him realize how much love he actually had for her as they didn’t just hook up. It felt like the start of something, a new chapter. A chapter where they were madly in love with one another.
“What? No,” he defended as he rolled his eyes.
“Then what happened?” Jack pressed.
Luke sighed as he shook his head, “I don’t know, I asked if we could talk about it later and we never did,” he took another deep breath.
“When did you guys-?” Quinn trailed off.
Luke threw his hands to the side, not wanting to talk about it any longer, “February, her sorority had some Valentine’s Day event we went to together. I walked her back to her dorm and we hooked up. Are you guys done asking questions?”
“No, dude, why didn’t you guys talk again?”
Luke clenched his jaw as he shook his head. His brothers were right, he was an awful liar. “I freaked out, okay?” he took a deep breath, “She’s my best friend and instead of telling her how I felt, I had sex with her while we were drunk. That’s a dickhead move. I just didn’t know what to say,”
“What’d you freak out about?” Jack asked.
“Everything was going to be different with her,” he let out while shaking his head, “I didn’t want to lose her, if I fucked things up and I fucked things up anyway. Can we please stop talking about it? I don’t want to be thinking about it while we all on the boat later,”
~~~
It was nine at night and the sun was already down but they were still hanging out on the boat. The music was loud to the point where you could only hear the person next to each other talk. Her parents were sitting and talking with Quinn and Jack as Ellen and Jim were talking with Luke. Y/N and Kyle were in their own world. 
Except every time Luke spoke, Y/N felt her heart flutter. She missed him, she missed him so much that it was physically painful. Her chest would ache hard at the idea of not talking with him.
Y/N kept her gaze on Luke, discreetly. “You okay?” Kyle whispered into her ear, pulling her gaze towards him. She nodded as she leaned towards him, kissing him briefly.
Luke was tuning out whatever his mom and dad were talking about as he saw Y/N kissing Kyle. He felt as though his heart shattered. He clenched his jaw as he dropped his gaze towards his lap. Quinn glanced towards Y/N briefly before he looked towards his youngest brother. He clenched his jaw as he shook his head. 
“You know,” her mother leaned towards Quinn, “I always thought Y/N and Luke would’ve ended up together.” Quinn's eyes widened as he looked towards her, “It just seems like they are growing apart. Breaks my heart,” she said as she tilted her head to the side.
“You don’t like Kyle?” Quinn asked, and she shrugged.
“He’s a sweet boy. He’s just not our Luke,” 
“I think we all thought they were going to end up together,” Quinn whispered towards her and she nodded. 
~~~
The next day, Y/N and Kyle stayed in bed for a few extra hours just basking in each other's company. “You know, I thought you and Luke were the closest? I mean being the same age at least,”
She was thrown off by the sudden subject change as her face scrunched up slightly. She cleared her throat as she nodded, “We were,” she started as she saw Kyle take in a sharp breath. “He was my best friend, but we had a falling out a few months ago,” she mumbled. 
Memories of the night in question flashed in her mind. His lips against her own as they were breathing heavily and grinding against each other's bodies. She recalled feeling her body fill with butterflies as he kissed her in the most dream-like way.
“What happened?” he asked. She looked into his dark brown eyes as she tried to figure out if she should tell the truth. Kyle nodded slightly as he took in a deep breath, “Let me guess,” he mumbled, “You guys had sex?” 
She clenched her jaw as she nodded slightly. “How’d you know?” she muttered as she met his gaze.
“I don’t know, it’s the way he looks at you; like he’s seen you naked or something,” he mumbled, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. She smiled softly as she rolled her eyes playfully. 
“It just made things awkward between us, we haven’t spoken since it happened,” she let out. He remained silent as he processed, “Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?” she asked.
“No, I mean as long as it was just sex. Like you didn’t have feelings for him, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, no-no feelings,” she mumbled.
~~~
She sat on the bathroom counter, his legs between her own. She adjusted the red heart around his neck that had her name written in cursive across it. “I never thought you would join a sorority,” he let out as he rested one of his hands on her thigh. She smiled as a chuckle fell from her lips. 
“It looks good on a resume,” she mumbled as she took a hold of a spray bottle and started spraying it onto his curls. His face scrunched up together as some of the mist hit his face. 
“This is tacky,” he continued, holding up the heart around his neck. She smirked as she took a hold of some of her own hair product and ran her fingers through his hair. “Do we have to wear these the whole night?” 
“Yes, Lukey,” she mumbled as she tilted her head to the side as she admired the work she did on his hair. “And until I get a boyfriend, you have to be my date to these things,” she said as she pushed him backwards slightly so she could hop off the bathroom counter. 
She adjusted the short black dress on her frame as she looked towards the mirror. She straightened out the red heart with Luke’s name. “What are we even going to do there?” he asked as he ran his fingers through his own hair. 
“Drink, dance, and take lots of photos,” she mumbled as she applied lip gloss to her lips. Luke eyed her lips as she added the clear gloss. “It’ll be fun,” she mumbled as she turned to meet his gaze. 
He huffed as he smiled, “You and I have different definitions of fun,” he mumbled. She rolled her eyes playfully as she took a hold of her phone and pulled out her camera. “Oh awesome, fun’s starting now,” he said sarcastically.
“You can be unbearable sometimes, you know that?” she let out teasingly as she wrapped her arm around the center of his back as he draped his arm around her lowerback. He pulled her tightly towards him. 
“Yeah, you too,” he shot back as he turned his head towards her with a teasing smile. She rolled her eyes as she snapped the photo of them at that moment.
“Smile,” she mumbled as she turned her gaze towards the mirror and snapped a few photos of them. Most of them are Luke glancing towards her the entire time. 
~~~
Later that night, Y/N stepped foot inside her own lakehouse, getting another drink from the fridge inside when she saw Luke sitting on the barstool beside her kitchen island. He lifted his gaze as he tossed a few chips into his mouth. His eyes scanned her body. Taking note of every single curve of her frame and how the two piece swimsuit showed every perfect part of her body. 
“Hi,” she let out as she smiled softly. He returned the soft smile as he sat up straight as she walked past the kitchen island.
“Hey,” he mumbled as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. They remained silent as she took a Truly from the fridge and cracked it open. She spun around and met his gaze. “Kyle seems nice,” he mumbled. She smiled.
“Yeah, he is,” she muttered as she brought the can to her lips. 
Their eyes remained connected as they remained silent for a few seconds. His eyes were soft and welcoming; he looked like he knew what she was thinking. All of things that have been left unsaid between them, it was as if their eyes were doing all the talking. Her heart went into overdrive.
Her eyes tried not to admire his body. His abs were prominent as well as the strong arm muscles. She took a deep breath as she rested her hands onto the counter. 
“How’s the NHL?” she asked. His eyes widened as he smiled softly.
“It’s amazing,” he mumbled, his eyes squinting slightly.
“You were fun to watch,” she let out as she met his gaze. He tilted his head to the side, a toothy grin on his lips.
“You watched the games?” he asked, genuinely shocked. She nodded dramatically. 
“You are still my best friend, Luke, Of course I was going to watch,” she mumbled as she met his gaze as she walked closer to him. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he looked away from her. 
“You seem happy,” he mumbled, unable to maintain eye contact with her. 
“Yeah, yeah.” she let out while shaking her head, “You too. I mean you’re living the dream, right?”
All he could do was hum as a reply as she was only a foot away from him and his chest was aching as he felt a magnet pulling her towards him but he tried to refuse the feeling and the desperation. 
“Why are you all alone inside? We’ve got an amazing bonfire going,” she asked as she leaned against the countertop. 
He couldn’t tell her the real answer. The real answer was that he had spent twenty-four hours watching Y/N and Kyle snuggle together and he was getting tired of it. He couldn’t breathe watching them because he wanted to kiss her cheek. He wanted to be the one holding her tightly. He wanted to be the one who loved her. He had to walk away and collect his thoughts.
While outside, Quinn was laughing at something Jack said when Kyle walked up to him. “Hey man, can I talk to you about something?” Kyle asked. Quinn’s smile slowly faded as he glanced towards Jack before he stood up and followed Kyle towards a secluded part of the backyard. Quinn nervously crossed his arms over his chest as he met Kyle’s gaze. “I’m gonna ask you a question and you’re going to not sugar coat anything,” Kyle asked. Quinn nodded.
“I’m not blind, alright? I know that your little brother has feelings for Y/N. She told me about what happened between them a few months back but she said that she didn’t have feelings for him. Is she telling the truth?” Kyle asked. 
Quinn took a deep breath as he licked his lips nervously. “We’re all close with Y/N. Jack and I have always treated her like she’s our little sister. Luke-” 
Quinn took in a sharp breath, “Luke’s been in love with her since he was eleven. He never wanted to act on it because he was terrified of losing her. Y/N was harder to see if she felt the same. Well, until they were like fifteen and they started cuddling all of the time. It was as if they constantly had to be near each other or the other one would implode. She dragged him to all of the school dances and sorority events.” he explained as Kyle was getting impatient.
“Look, they're avoiding each other because they are afraid of getting hurt. Which is causing them to get hurt anyway. You seem like a great guy, who would’ve been perfect for her. But there’s a lot of history between them that can’t be ignored,” 
Kyle remained silent as he took a deep breath. If he was being honest, he knew she wasn’t all in. He wasn’t even all in on the relationship either, it didn’t hurt to hear as much as he thought it was going to be. 
“I appreciate it, man.” Kyle mumbled as his gaze looked past Quinn to see Luke and Y/N walking out of the house together. Kyle let out a dry chuckle, “Can you tell her why I left? I’m going to pack my stuff and call an Uber.” Kyle mumbled. 
“What? You sure?” Quinn asked.
“Like you said, they’ve got history. I’m not stepping between that,” he said as he looked towards Y/N and Luke again. “Make sure they end up together, alright?” he said before he walked towards the house discreetly. 
Quinn stood still, his gaze on the dirt beneath his feet. “What the fuck just happened?” he asked himself as he walked back towards the bonfire. 
After another hour, Kyle was long gone and Y/N still had no idea. “Alright, you guys we’re going to go to bed, see you guys in the morning,” Her father expressed to everyone, the parents all went to their own lakehouse leaving the boys and Y/N alone. 
“Where’d Kyle go? Have you guys seen him?” she asked the three of them as she was starting to get a little worried. 
Quinn’s eyes widened as he cleared his throat, “He left,” is all he said. Luke perked upward at the mention. 
“What?” she let out.
“He-uh-he’s not as comfortable as he thought with you and Luke’s history. So he left,” Quinn said as his voice progressively got quieter. Luke kept shifting his gaze between Quinn and Y/N. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly as she leaned forward. 
“Did he tell you this history exactly?” she questioned, glancing at Luke for a second. 
“He might’ve,” he mumbled, glancing towards Luke, “Kinda already knew about it, though.” 
Y/N eyes flashed red as she turned her gaze towards Luke. “Can I talk to you?” she asked, standing up and walking towards Hughes's lakehouse. Luke’s room was on the second floor and his parents room was on the first. In her lakehouse her room was directly next to her parents. 
Luke slowly stood up from his seat, “Thanks,” he said sarcastically as he followed Y/N. Jack and Quinn shared a glance before they looked back towards the dying flame. 
Once Luke stepped into the house, he saw her already storming up the stairs towards his room. He took a deep breath as he skipped several steps to follow her faster. She walked into his room and began to pace back and forth. Luke shut the door behind him.
“You told Quinn!?” she called out. 
“An-and Jack, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to! You know I’m a bad liar,”
“What did you tell them exactly?!” she questioned.
He stayed quiet for a second as his heart was loud in his ear, “Quinn made a joke about us hooking up and I-I didn’t deny it that good so they found out. I told them that we just didn’t talk afterwards, we were just avoiding each other,” he explained.
Her mouth fell open as she nodded slowly. Her tongue pushed to the side of her mouth as she spun around to look away from him for a brief second. 
“Do you remember what you told me the next morning?” she asked, her voice quieter.
He met her gaze and squinted his eyes slightly, “That I was running late to practice and if we could talk about it later?” 
“Before that,”
He thought about it for a second, he replayed every second of that morning in his mind but the words were not coming to his mind. She took a deep breath as she clenched her fist and unclenched it. “You said that I was the last person you’d ever want to have a hookup with. Like-like it was embarrassing to have sex with me,” 
His eyes widened as he felt like punching himself in the chest. “Oh my god-no that’s not-”
“You hurt me, Luke!” she shouted towards him, her eyes welling up in tears.
 “I thought-I thought,” she shook her head again, “I don’t know what I thought but that was horrible to hear. Especially from you! You were supposed to be my best friend.” she shouted towards him. 
“That’s not what I meant!” he said loudly, “That not what I meant,” he let out softer as he stepped towards her, almost reaching out to touch her. 
“You know, I cared a lot about Kyle! We could’ve been something great. He was sweet and charming and he would’ve never said that to me but you-you ruined that!” she shouted as she stared deeply into his eyes. The tension was rising between them as they were only a foot apart.
“Well, if you care about the guy so much why aren’t you going after him?! Huh? Why are you standing here, shouting at me?!” he countered, getting closer to her face. She clenched her jaw as her heart was beating hard against her chest. Her skin felt hot as if steam was leaving her body. 
“I don’t know!” she shouted back as her eyes looked deeply into his eyes. His eyes were staring hard back towards her. 
“You didn’t deserve our first time together to be a drunken hook up,” he expressed, taking another step towards her. “You deserved roses and candles and all that sappy romantic shit not some dorm bed we barely fit on,” he continued as he scanned her softening features.
“Luke-”
“I couldn’t tell you I loved you, I couldn’t tell you because I was scared I was going to lose my best friend. And then I fucked up and lost you anyway,” he explained as they were mere inches apart now. “You deserved better than that and I couldn’t face it,” he mumbled. 
She leaned towards him, urgently kissing him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she felt her body jump against him. 
He quickly took a hold of her lower back pulling her towards him. The tension between them only increased as their lips remained connected sloppily.
She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her bare thighs against his body rushed goosebumps against her skin. 
He delicately laid her down onto his bed as his lips pulled away from hers briefly, admiring her features from the very short distance.
“I love you too,” she mumbled as she ran her fingers through the ends of his curls. He pecked her lips briefly before he leaned fully away from her. “Where are you going?” she asked barely above a whisper.
“We’re not doing this now,” he muttered as shook his head. He stood up from the bed and walked towards his closet to give her some clothes to sleep in. Instead of the swimwear still covering her frame.
“Why not?” she asked, pouting slightly. He smiled widely as he tossed her one of his hoodies and a pair of shorts she left at his dorm several months back. 
“Candles and roses,” he mumbled as he covered his frame in one of his hoodies. She smiled widely as she began to put on the clothes he handed her.
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