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russellsppttemplates · 2 days

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It is what it is (Lando Norris)

It takes Lando a while to notice how you always assume he has something else to do whenever you need his help

Note: english is not my first language. It's slightly angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ is this good, is this bad? I'm not too sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to the lack of quality time between a couple

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Look at you, beautiful girl", Lando twirled you as he stepped inside your bedroom, noticing you were getting ready, "are you going somewhere?".

"Yes, I have an appointment at my optometrist", you smiled, "Anna should be here soon to take me".

"Is it a joint appointment?", Lando squinted.

"No, you muppet", you giggled, "my optometrist needs some exams on my eyes, so I have to today because that's when the ophthalmologist is there and they recommended that I had someone take me there because they want to dilate my pupils and, depending on how it goes, my sight might be a little affected for a couple of hours", you offered, making sure you had everything you needed to take.

"You could've told me and I would've taken you", Lando added, accepting the kiss you placed on his lips.

"I thought you had a meeting this afternoon", you reasoned.

"I do, but I could have moved that around a little and fit everything into the schedule", he reasoned back.

"It's okay, don't worry about that", you mused, "That's Anna - bye, handsome!", you kissed his lips one last time before making your way out and downstairs to meet your friend.

The ride to the office wasn't long, you and Anna taking the time to catch up and learn about the new gossips she had to update on you.

"And how's Lando? I haven't seen him in a while", Anna stated after you sat in the empty waiting room waiting to be called.

"He's been busy lately - he has a meeting today with the team, they're also launching a new collection for Quadrant and they're investing a lot in the social media content, so he's been busy recording a lot of videos and stuff", you offered, never shy whenever it came to talk proudly about your boyfriend's achievements, "and we're also on the countdown for the season to begin, so there's training and meetings and all that".

"Sounds like a busy schedule, no wonder why I haven't seen him - I'm surprised you even see him at all", she joked, grabbing her phone once she remembered she had something to show you.

You were surprised yourself at every bit of time you were able to spend with Lando, as lately it had become near impossible to do so apart from sleeping in the same bed, and even that was rare as he was often travelling between Monaco and England on a weekly basis.

"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?", the doctor called you before you stepped inside the exam room, starting with the procedures.

The check up itself didn't take long despite the twenty five minute wait for the drops to dilate your pupils, "Don't forget your sunglasses, Y/N!", the secretary reminded you before you stepped outside.

"Thank you, have a good afternoon", you smiled before tapping Anna's shoulder, "Give me your arm so I won't trip", you mumbled.

"Is your sight that bad? The doctor said it should be good enough", Anna worried as she was about to open the door.

"No, it's fine, but if I'm clumsy on any good day, imagine how probable it is for me to fall on some stupid step or raised cobblestone", you argued as you both chuckled, making your way to her car.

Before you went home, your friend stopped by the pharmacy to get you the relief eye drops you'd have to follow the medication regimen with for the next few days, stopping by your favourite bakery so you could enjoy some sweet pastries.

"Can you even read these prescriptions?", Anna asked as she read the regimen you had to comply with.

"Stop making fun of me, you say that as if I'm almost blind", you swatted her arm before reading - trying to - the words, "fucking hell, am I?".

"I can barely read them myself, Y/N! They're so tiny I don't know how they give these to eye patients! Is Lando going to be home soon? That way he can help you with this", she suggested.

"Can I even see the time? At least that", you mumbled as you looked at the large numbers on your phone, "he'll probably take a while still - I can set the alarms on my phone and I'll memorise the different drops", you tapped your head.

Once it was all settled and you assured Anna she was fine to go home and you'd be perfectly well on your own, you walked her to the door before going back to the living room as the sun was no longer shinning outside and you could lay down on the sofa.

The nap you were taking was cut short by the door being shut, making you rub your forehead before an alarm rang. Getting up to head to the bathroom where you kept the supplies, you found Lando taking his trainers off.

"Hi baby, how was your appointment?", he asked as he put the footwear away.

"It was good, need to go and apply my drops", you smiled, turning the light on and grabbing the right box of medication.

"Is that what the alarm was for? I thought we had gotten a new security system I was not aware of", Lando joked as he watched you wash your hands.

"Yes, these instructions are so small to read that Anna thought it would be best to have alarms so I wouldn't mess it up since it's still a little bit blurry", you mused.

"Do you want me to do it?", Lando offered.

"No, it's fine - I'll have to do this for the next 48 hours anyway, so I might as well get used to it", you stopped talking so you could apply them, almost holding your breath until the drops fell.

"My lovie", Lando whispered on your ear once he felt it was okay to approach you, hugging your mid section from behind and kissing your neck as you put your hands on top of his.

You were adding the finishing touches on the present wrapping, the shiny gold string fiddling between your fingers as you tried to tie a bow with it around the paper bag handle, when Lando stepped inside your home office.

"That's looking pretty", he mused as he handed you the tape you were looking for on your desk.

"Thank you", you offered before placing the sticky piece down, "the bag is quite plain and even though the present inside is what will get her attention, it should come in nice wrapping".

"Who is this for?", Lando asked.

"It's for Maya's birthday tonight", you smiled, admiring your work.

"Is that tonight? Fuck, this week has flown by", Lando cursed, "I can't make it - will you let her know, please? I'm sorry I can't go", Lando pouted, "if she has to pay for having made the reservation with me in it, let me know and I'll pay my part!".

"I had already told her I'd be going alone, so she made my reservation without a plus one", you mused, remembering the conversation that came around the time of booking the venue.

Lando was leaving late in the afternoon for a trip with Max, Ria and some of the Quadrant athletes, so like you predicted, he couldn't attend the dinner with you.

"Oh", Lando offered.

"Max told me about your plans and when Maya told me the date, I assumed you wouldn't be able to go", you explained with a tinge of sadness and conformity in your voice.

"Well, it seems you guessed right", Lando chuckled despite the uneasy feeling on his chest.

You seemed sad that he wouldn't be able to join you, but at the same time you didn't? Lando put the topic at the back of his mind for now, heading to the bedroom so he could pack the last minute things.

"I was thinking of wearing this dress", you said once you joined him inside a while later, taking the steamer out of your drawer and setting it up to get out any kinks and wrinkles.

"That one is one of my favourites on you, but then again, they all are, I think", Lando mused, kissing your cheek as you waited for the steamer to be up for use.

"Figured it would be a little cold out tonight, so I chose this one, and that coat over there", you pointed.

"You'll be the most beautiful in that room", your boyfriend complimented, pecking your lips before he let you continue your task.

A couple hours later, Lando found himself restless as he scrolled through the posts and stories of Maya's birthday dinner, "Ria", he called, "what would you think if your partner made plans without you because they figured you wouldn't be able to go anyway?".

Ria exchanged a look with Max and Tara before she spoke, "did they ask me if I could go?", she offered.

"They didn't, but truth be told it's not like you have given them much to believe that you could join them", Lando mumbled the last part.

"I think I'd be a more 'it is what it is' at the start if I saw that it was something out of their reach, but I'm not sure I'd put up with it if it was genuine disinterest from them", Ria explained.

"It's not disinterest! They're just busy and shit at organising their schedules", Lando groaned defensively.

"Okay, okay", Ria calmed the room down once Max squinted his eyes at his bestfriend, "then I guess they would have to make sure they do better", she shrugged, "is everything alright?".

"Yes, yes, sorry for snapping just then", Lando offered her a tight lipped smile.

Everyone carried on with what they were doing before the existencial question, Max seemingly as stuck on it as Lando, "is this an hypothetical thing or are we calling people by their names and working this out?", he whispered to Lando.

"It's fine, just a loose thought I had there", Lando grumbled.

Lina 🤎

Hi, Y/N!

You won't bother, don't worry - I think I miss having someone other than my boyfriend to talk to 😅

Would it be okay if you visited in the afternoon? Our morning routine is still a shitshow (literally and figuratively), so we would appreciate it if you came after her first nap, around two pm?

One of Lando's older couple friends had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and while you were dying to meet their baby boy as soon as he came earthside, you were respectful of their adjustment period so you waited for them to be up for visitors and were ready to comply with whatever schedule they offered.

"It smells nice in here", Lando commented as he stepped inside the kitchen, "what delicious food are you making and can I please have a bite?".

"I made a little tray for us, but the big one is to take for Lina and Theo - I can imagine they don't have much time for cooking, so food is welcomed by them", you smiled, setting the cheese grater down once the measurements were like the recipe stated.

"Are you going to visit today? I have some streaming with Max scheduled for this afternoon", Lando added.

"Lina told me that this afternoon was the only time they could handle some visits - you know how it is with new parents and newborns and all of that -, I didn't want to change their schedule when I have some flexibility with my schedule", you explained, "I'll give the little one a big kiss from you, then?".

"Well, in that case, I should give you two big kisses then - one for you", he kissed your lips once, "and then this one for the little one", he smiled before kissing you again.

You shared lunch in a semi comfortable silence, Lando telling you a bit about the stream they would be doing and you sharing some work updates from your end.

When Lando gets a text in the middle of watching Max send his virtual car to the curb, "who might that be that's brought such a big smile to your face?".

Lando checked the photo to make sure the baby's face was covered despite his friends having already posted him, tuning the phone to show the camera, "Y/N met our friends' baby boy for the first time", Lando gushed.

"That's the little nugget", Max cooed, "she looks very happy with a baby on her arms", he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you met him already?".

"No, I haven't yet! She could only go this afternoon and we had this so...", Lando tsked, admiring the picture one last time before setting the phone back down. The baby was perfectly nestled on your arms, hiding his face on your chest as you looked down at him with a big smile on your face.

Now that he thought about he, he hadn't seen such a big smile in quite some time, and he was really starting to believe he was the reason behind it. He was absent, more than usual and more than the standards of your relationship considering his job.

The air had shifted around you once you came back from meeting Lina's little boy and Lando could only pinpoint it to the subject he thought about earlier.

"Lan, did you hear what I said?", you asked as you showed him another picture of you touching your noise in the little boy's.

"It's just... are we okay, baby?", Lando questioned. Even though it seemed like he was the only one that felt there was something wrong - different at least -, surely you had noticed it too.

"What makes you say that?", you asked.

From the serious tone, your boyfriend mentally slapped himself. Whatever it was, he was on the wrong and you had indeed noticed it too.

"I've noticed you don't ask me for help with stuff like driving you somewhere or accompanying you to places, which is fine if you want to do things on your own, I'm not saying you can't have your own independence, you know I'm not controlling you in that way - obviously! Fuck, I'm rambling! What I mean is, I have been taking notice that you just assume that I'm not available, and your assumptions are not unfounded, and it makes you sad, and I myself am upset that it has reached this point", Lando stated.

"It's not great, I can tell you that, but we knew it would be like this, your schedule is not the regular nine to five - it is what it is, Lan", you argued.

"But it's not, not all the time anyway! I want you to know you can always count on me!", Lando stated, "Y/N, you are one of my priorities and I never want to let you down - I'm going to make sure that from now on I spend more time with you and that I'm by your side a lot more", he rubbed your palm, "damn, I was so stupid, I'm sorry, lovie".

"Lando, these things happen", you attempted, "now we can work on it".

"You can count on me for little and big things in life - you need to go to the post office? I'm there helping you put the letter in the box. Dinner with your friends? I'll find it in the schedule to go and I don't care who I have to tell no to!", he pointed his finger, "I never ever want you to feel like you don't belong in my life or like I don't want to be involved in yours, Y/N - I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to notice it".

"It's in the past", you smiled, pecking his lips softly, "now, look at this cute little nugget, he's so cute, we have to go there another day so you can meet him, and I think Theo won't mind another traybake".

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fluff

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 3 days

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Hey sex witch, as a cis man who is both into spontaneity and safe sex, what is the best way to carry condoms around safely and practically. I've seen advice again keeping them in a wallet or pocket, but those seem to be the only practical options to ensure you have some on you when needed?

Is there a better way to carry these?

hi anon,

I applaud you for your dedication to figuring out the safest way to be spontaneous!

first, let's discuss why, exactly, pockets and wallets are less than optimal for condom storage. there are two primary issues here: the risk of jostling, and temperature. the latter is pretty simple; condoms don't like to be stored in warm environments, and right up against your hot little human body unfortunately qualifies. prolonged exposure to warmth can break condoms down and make them less effective, which is not a good time for anybody, which rules out pockets right away.

("Makenzie aren't they made to literally go on a hot little human body" yes, and they do not stay there for very long when they're in use. this is the difference between going for a little walk when it's hot out vs standing outside in 80 degree heat all day every day.)

okay, so what about storing condoms in your wallet and just not keeping the wallet in your pocket? now we've reached our second issue, which is that getting battered around too much can also degrade the effectiveness of your condom. I'm not saying you should never, say, fill a piñata with wrapped condoms, a thing I did last night, but if you're jostling around your condom in between all of the things in your wallet that you use on a regular basis then we might be entering the danger zone.

so: what's a discerning condom-user to do?

if you're not carrying your wallet on your immediate person and can provide your condoms a little room of their own within the wallet, I don't hate that. I also realize that men are disadvantaged here re: having somewhere else to keep the wallet; broadly speaking y'all are given less options for functional ways to carry around your accoutrements and that's bullshit.

outside of the wallet, maintaining a discreet secondary billfold that's just for condoms may be a good idea. especially if you also keep a little lube in there? deeply sexy thing to have, in my personal opinion. I've also heard of people using empty tins for breath mints or similar such items for their condom storage, which I like a lot. if you open this thing to reveal it's full of safer sex options the panties are hitting the floor.

I also want to say that short term wallet storage - for instance, popping some condoms into your wallet when you're heading out to a situation where sex is a possibility - will not do you harm, as long as you have the presence of mind to remove them promptly and return them to a location in your home where they are not getting jostled or being exposed to any particularly high or low temperatures. (also, crucially: do no keep them in your car, for the aforementioned temperature reasons.)

if you want something that will be suitable to have on hand long term, ready to rumble at any moment even if you did not leave the house expecting to bone down, that's when it's time to start exploring your options for small containers that could make suitable condom housing. get creative with it. get silly, even.

#sex edventures 2024

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leclerc-s · 10 hours

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karma - part seven

series masterlist // previous // next

ollie bearman IS SHE PREGNANT? ARE YOU PREGNANT??

liam lawson who's pregnant?

yuki tsunoda WHO'S HAVING A BABY??

max verstappen me. charles is the father.

natalia leclerc i can't believe this is how i had to find out my husband is cheating on me.

sebastian vettel what the hell is wrong with you two?

max verstappen well that depends how much time do you have?

natalia leclerc ooh too much.

daniel ricciardo we don't have enough time to go over everything.

ollie bearman WHO'S HAVING A BABY??

arthur leclerc AM I GOING TO BE AN UNCLE?? TELL ME I'M GOING TO BE AN UNCLE?

kimi räikkönen🤰🏻??

natalia leclerc

arthur leclerc i may have just told maman she was going to be a grandma...

natalia leclerc ARTHUR LECLERC WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!!

arthur leclerc CHARLES YOUR WIFE IS PLOTTING MY MURDER!!

charles leclerc MAMAN IS CALLING ME ARTHUR!! YOU DESERVE TO DIE!!!

ollie bearman I'M GONNA BE A BROTHER!!

liam lawson to a dog oliver. ollie bearman IT'S A BABY LIAM!! MY BABY BROTHER!! AND DON'T CALL ME OLIVER, LAWSON!!

yuki tsunoda awww when can i meet the baby??

daniel ricciardo aww what a cute baby.

sebastian vettel all this drama for a dog??

charles leclerc not just a dog seb!! his name a leo and he's our baby!! according to twitter he's now your grandchild.

kimi räikkönen ha! grandpa!

max verstappen aww, thank you for naming your dog after me.

natalia leclerc HE'S NOT NAMED AFTER YOU VERSTAPPEN!!

charles leclerc leo leclerc just sounds better than anything else.

max verstappen oh be quiet we all know you named him after me. i'm going to tell everyone you named him after me.

daniel ricciardo he's already started telling people.

natalia_leclerc posted new stories

since apparently i'm pregnant, enjoy my ultrasound picture. i've got my mother-in-law calling me because arthur told her i'm pregnant. pretty little boy. this is a picture of our baby after birth.

liked by natalia_leclerc, sukiwaterhouse, sebastianvettel and others

charles_leclerc welcome home baby leo 🤍 🤍 🤍

tagged: natalia_leclerc

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user1 HIS NAME IS LEO? THAT'S SO FUCKING CUTE!!

natalia_leclerc that's our baby boy.

charles_leclerc i want a girl next. a real one. maxverstappen1 please remember that i share a drivers room wall and a hotel wall room with you two. natalia_leclerc ooh more reason to make you miserable. don’t enjoy it too much verstappen

user2 i demand content with roscoe and leo.

sukiwaterhouse you just had to tie her down someway didn't you?

charles_leclerc WE'VE BEEN DATING FOR FIVE YEARS! WE'RE MARRIED! I DIDN'T TIE HER DOWN!!

rileykeough i demand to meet baby leo as soon as possible.

natalia_leclerc of course love of my life. charles_leclerc i am doomed to third wheel my entire marriage. joris__trouche welcome to my world. i've been stuck here for a long time.

user3 aww they're parents now!

user4 parents are parents guys!!

user5 aww what a cute puppy!!

landonorris sir, that is our child now. he is the grid's child.

charles_leclerc back off, that's my child. not yours. alex_albon you could never become albonpets so suck on that leclerc

olliebearman i demand to meet my sibling!!

user6 when the heck did they adopt ollie? user7 probably somewhere between bahrain and abu dhabi last year.

liked by charles_leclerc, rileykeough, olliebearman and others

natalia_leclerc baby leo with a gift from baby ollie 🤎

tagged: charles_leclerc, olliebearman

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olliebearman my baby brother!!

charles_leclerc my sons!!

arthur_leclerc SHE'S STILL TRYING TO KILL ME!!

natalia_leclerc YOU TOLD MAMAN I WAS PREGNANT!! YOU GOT HER EXCITED AND I HAD TO BE THE ONE TO TELL HER WE GOT A PUPPY!! athur_leclerc PLEASE STOP!!

user8 aww that's the cutest baby boy ever!

user9 bless ollie for getting baby leo a stuffy

rileykeough i demand you bring him over the next time we see each other

natalia_leclerc yes, of course my love.

user10 cutest family ever.

user11 the puppy belly!! it's cute!!

user12 oh the puppy belly is so fucking cute!!

alex_albon i will steal that puppy if you bring him to the paddock

natalia_leclerc well now i'm now i'm no longer letting him tag along. georgerussell63 BOO!! BRING THE BABY!!

maxverstappen1 you named him after me!!

charles_leclerc STOP SAYING THAT!! maxverstappen1 you did!! admit it!! user13 the couple's quarrels stay on the track guys! user14 i don't know how kimi puts up with them

sebastian vettel for the love of god. the next time someone asks you about sainz. do not answer the question.

charles leclerc the people have a right to know how i felt!

sebastian vettel by saying, 'once mattia left it was only a matter of time before he left' is not a good look charles.

natalia leclerc but did he lie?

sebastian vettel you zip it, you're next.

max verstappen all she said was, 'i'm glad that fraud is gone.'

natalia leclerc and in my defense, i was talking about mattia.

sebastian vettel kimi, please deal with your drivers.

kimi räikkönen did they lie?

daniel ricciardo i personally think this is great.

yuki tsunoda i know oscar has let out a sigh of relief.

arthur leclerc what is his problem with oscar? someone on twitter said it was because oscar posed a threat to carlando. i think they're right.

liam lawson i saw that it was because he wants his job at mclaren back.

natalia ruiz he hates oscar because he hates me. that is my son!

sebastian vettel you're all children.

ollie bearman okay grandpa. kimi räikkönen 😂😂

taglist: @vroomvroommuppett @charlesgirl16 @someoneintheworld @iconicbookstore @evans-dejong @minmira95 @d3kstar @lollie0024 @magical-spit @rockyhayzkid @weekendlusting @ironspdy @namgification @moonyzsworld @emilyval1 @lorenakaspersen @spilled-coffee-cup @butterfly-lover @blushmimi @lovely-blackinnon @six-call @bingewatche @vroomvroom95 @lesliiieeeee @fletchingarcher @casperlikej @minmira95 @nichmeddar @chezmardybum @nikfigueiredo @buckybarnessweetheart @scuderiadevils @bellalilo @landonorizzz @sargeantdumbass @seesaw-it @evie-119 @doodlehunz @dark-night-sky-99 @si1ver06

not taggable: @janeholt3 @Fall-bambi @leanneg97 @asparklysoul @gemnetjournal @mgmoore @itscrzy @alymeddar @raavadakedavra @solidalibi @bi-bitch-bi @a-beaverhausen

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¡leclerc-s speaks! can you tell at what point i decided i didn't want to write for every race and decided to summarize it? and of course i had to include little leo somehow!!

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #karma series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc

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bethanydelleman · 2 days

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Something about this whole Lydia thing confuses me a little .

Why did Darcy act alone ? Why didn't he inform Mr Gardiner of his involvement since the start not after the situation is settled ?

When he asked Lydia to leave Wickham, why did he expect her family to receive her when the whole town knew ?

I kept reading posts about how noble Darcy is for asking her to leave him. But honestly just because he does not care about reputation does not nobody else does. Heck, the whole family would suffer from social isolation, he is basically ruining what's left of the girls's chances of marrying well. He is not destroying just his own chances of marrying Lizzie, but with almost any gentleman she would ever come across. What was he thinking ?

At least, while married to Wickham, she has her reputation restored and she can go to balls and parties, if she leaves him she would be banished somewhere far away and for the extroverted loud Lydia, this is HELL.

And if he wanted simply to recover her, shouldn't he bring a relative alone so they would help convince her, surely that would help.

Honestly, the only sensible thing Lydia had done is refusing to leave him.

Darcy acted alone because he didn't trust Mr. Bennet to be a responsible adult so he waited until Mr. Bennet had returned home before approaching Mr. Gardiner:

But Mr. Gardiner could not be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him till after the departure of the former.

which, good judgment there, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bennet sucks.

As for the other thing, Darcy doesn't know what is going on in Meryton, he doesn't know that Mrs. Bennet is stupid enough to scream their bad news all over town. This whole affair could have been hushed up if Mrs. Bennet had half a brain cell. Lydia has family in London, they could have easily pretended that Lydia went to visit them.

Either way, I think in Darcy's mind, being married to Wickham is the absolute worst outcome for any woman. He hates Wickham and he knows all of Wickham's faults. To him, a sixteen year old being stuck with that sad excuse for a human being, forever, is worse than death or a cottage. Lydia didn't agree, but I don't think she's smart for that decision, she's short-sighted. And I'm pretty sure at this point that Darcy would marry Elizabeth either way, he'd probably prefer to not have Wickham as a permanent brother in law.

As for Lydia and the family's reputation, there must have been options or else Darcy wouldn't have given leaving as a choice to Lydia. He is very rich and very well regarded and everyone in Meryton now knows that Wickham is awful. So Darcy says she was kidnapped and is completely innocent and he saved her. Fortunately for the Bennet family, they never go to London, so this gossip will not spread far either way. No one knows who they are. Darcy marrying Elizabeth will give the Bennets the same reputation boost that it did in the original timeline. Lydia may need to lay low for a while, but having two very rich brother in laws can only help her marriage prospects down the line.

As for bringing a relative, I assume Darcy would have done that too if he thought it would help. As we know, it wouldn't have.

#question response #pride & prejudice #jane austen #mr. darcy #lydia bennet

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cheriladycl01 · 2 days

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The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 6

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!

Credit to macrazylive for the GIF

You were scared to be anywhere right now. You couldn't go home, and you no longer felt safe in London. The reason you weren't at Free Practice or anything else was because you'd not only missed your first plane but you were in the police station.

Someone had broken into your house and many notes had been left, the death threats had increased in your DM's after the picture of you and Lewis and your house had been trashed.

You were so shaken, you didn't know what to do when you first found your house like that. You didn't know who to call or where to go, you were completely alone. You called your dad not really knowing who to go to.

He was over in half an hour to find you sobbing on the floor of your apartment. He was the one who phoned the police and phoned ahead to your team explaining that you wouldn't be there with them. And to potentially prepare fo you to not race.

You'd been quick to shut that down, saying you'd make it for qually just not the free practices as the police needed you today and by the time you could get on the next flight to Miami FP2 would be well underway.

This is why you'd turned up to the track so tired.

You also didn't feel safe anywhere at the track when you were there. Everywhere you went it felt like someone was following you or that someone was going to do something.

That's why you'd also remained so close to your team and tried to go as undercover as possible.

You didn't feel like you could go home to your parents as it was an impact to them and even though Fred Vasseur had offered to accommodate you before Spain you also didn't want to impede on his personal life.

You thought the only option was hotel hopping until the Spanish GP but that didn't seem financially possible.

So you phoned the one person you thought might be able to help.

"Hello?" you sigh into the phone from your Miami hotel room.

"Hello?" the thick Spanish accent comes through and you sigh relieved you had the correct number.

"It's Y/N, L-Lando gave me your number!" you explain and you can hear the rustle of some sheets before he replies.

"Mmmmm, what did you need hermosa?" he asks with a yawn, and you bite your lip in anticipation not wanting to ask him the question.

"Can we talk, in your room please? I need to ask you something!" you say and Carlos instantly can tell this is serious.

"Of course hermosa, room 407!" he says and you hang up. He was a few floors above you, so you took the lift up to the fourth floor. It was a short ride but you were legging it out the door the minute you could, eager to see Carlos.

You stand outside the room, a second of hesitation before you lightly knock. You are about to knock again, worried he didn't here you when the door swings open and you are pulled into the room.

"What's going on with you ...!" he asks looking at you and for the first time since the incident your eyes start to fill up with tears. You pull him into a hug and the way his arms encase around you made you feel safe and secure.

It was this incredible kind of bear hug.

"I-" you start but your words physically don't come out.

"Take your time its okay!" he says guiding you to the sofa in his room and making you take a seat.

"I need somewhere to lie low before the Spanish GP, i was hoping if it's not too much to ask if I stay with you?" you choke out and he looks at you in shock.

"This isn't me saying no, so don't take this the wrong way. But why? What's going on. Everyone is worried about you!" Carlos pushes and you nod, knowing it was better to tell him what happened. That's what the phycologist in the police station told you anyway.

"My house was broken into... and there were notes in the house that were death threats and my DM death threats have increased since the whole me and Lewis picture ..." you sniffle looking up at him and he pulls you into a hug again.

"What do you mean broken into, what notes?" he asks and you hand him your phone that had all the pictures for evidence.

"Holy shit!" he breathes out.

"That's why i missed out all the free practices, i missed my flight and was in the police station submitting a report... I'm so scared and I don't feel safe anywhere anymore" you explain tears coming to your eyeline. Carlos looks you dead in the eye, holding both sides of your face before pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

In the moment, needing that comfort you lean closer fully taking him in.

He pulls back and you smile.

"Y/N, I will be there for you whenever you need me! You can stay with me as long as you need to. I promise no questions asked" he offers holding one of your hands in your lap, holding an intimate sort of eye-contact with those puppy dog eyes of his.

"Thank you Carlos, I can't thank you enough!" you smile pulling him into a hug.

"Could i - stay for the night. I'm scared to be alone in my room!" you say awkwardly feeling like you are asking for too much.

"Come on. Lets get you to bed!" he smiles pulling you into him and walking over to the bed. You were already in pajamas so you settled into the bed, facing where he would get in and lay down.

He lays down under the covers next to you, facing you as well. You both just look at each other in a calm understanding.

"You are so beautiful!" he smiles pushing some hair behind your ear. You cant help but blush and close your eyes to try and control your breathing at his warm touch.

"Are you so sure we can do this mi amore?" he whispers at you a teasing tone in his voice, and you can feel the blush on your cheeks rise even higher.

God, if you were going to be living with this man and his family how would you survive.

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one fanfiction #formula one #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #cs55 fluff #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 fic

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oftenwantedafton · 2 days

Text

the long way home | steve raglan x female reader

inspired by @arkarti ’s ongoing fanart series

rating | explicit

words | 4.7k

cw | sexual content

ao3 link

It’s the worst sort of luck, breaking down in the middle of nowhere.

The only saving grace is that it happens in the early morning, just after sunrise. You walk that dusty interstate road for what feels like hours. You have cowboy boots on that are meant to be flashy, not really proper footwear. Your heels are killing you and the sand that decorates the barren landscape feels like it has seeped into every pore and crevice. You can taste it, feel its grit in your hair and on your skin. The sun beats down and you’re grateful that you at least have sunglasses to shield your eyes. You’ve got your hair pinned up but it doesn’t really help with the heat much. You’re drenched in sweat that makes your tshirt cling to an even wetter bra and your skirt drags against damp thighs with every step. Sheer misery and yet you plod on, because you can’t—won’t—go back where you came from. There is just the promise of something more, moving forward.

You think you hear an engine and turn your head. The road has that shimmery haze to it, making it difficult to discern if there is anything moving over that lift of pavement you’d navigated awhile back. It’s getting larger, closer, so you decide it’s not a mirage after all. The vehicle is the same color as the ground you’ve grown to detest trodding over, a bland beige shade with a slightly darker interior. You grind to a halt and the sedan slows and pulls onto the shoulder, the tires dipping off the asphalt and onto the dirt.

You’ve been taught never to pick up hitchhikers, but not what to do when faced with the prospect of being one. Your steps are cautious as you approach the parked car. You haven’t gotten a good look at the driver yet, not that that was any clear indication of their intentions. Looks could be deceiving. Anyone could be dangerous.

The man—you can see it’s a male now, behind the wheel—leans over and cranks the handle of the window around, the glass descending and disappearing from view. He’s got a long sleeve shirt on which seems a poor choice given the climate, but you can feel the cool waft of air that emanates from within. The car has air conditioning. You find yourself taking an involuntary step closer towards that promised land. To be away from the sun. To feel a cool breeze. You’re not sure you can resist that kind of temptation.

“Need a ride?” It seems a foolish question. Of course you did. You’re hardly out for a leisurely stroll. “That was your car back there, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, she quit on me.”

“That’s a shame.”

The man’s voice is pleasant. You like the sound of it. There’s a rasp to it, combined with something else that’s difficult to describe. You notice he’s wearing a tie to go with the shirt. A traveling salesman, maybe? He’s got that demeanor. Smooth talker. Neatly trimmed facial hair, the same blend of salt and pepper as the rest. Glasses. Friendly smile that makes the lines around his eyes crinkle, becoming more pronounced. Dimples, too. You know you’re staring and you know it’s rude. You shuffle your feet, kicking up a little cloud of dust.

“I’m happy to give you a lift somewhere. I promise I’m not a serial killer.” He chuckles softly and you join him, relaxing slightly. The driver seems innocent enough. Maybe you’re just being paranoid.

Still you hesitate. You glance back the way you came. You look ahead. It all looks the same. So far to travel on foot. It was almost midday. The temperature was rising. It isn’t just about discomfort; it’s dangerous to your health, being out here like this.

“I’ve got water. Ice has melted by now, but…”

It’s the final shove you need. You lift the chrome handle and settle inside, cranking the window back up. The shift in the temperature is incredible. The shade. You murmur your gratitude. A thermos is pressed into your hands.

“Make sure you put your seatbelt on. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” You finish gulping down the drink he’s gifted to you. Best damn thing you’ve ever tasted. You hastily jerk on the nylon strap, securing it over your shoulder and across your waist, the buckle settling into place with a satisfying click. You offer to return the drink, secretly glad when he insists you finish it.

You drain that container so fast your stomach aches. The ice hadn’t melted that much, actually. You keep the leftovers in your mouth, allowing them to dissolve. You squirm a bit, your feet still uncomfortable.

“Take those off, if you want.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry if my feet stink. I wasn’t planning on walking so much in them.” You bend and tug each one off, sighing in relief. Your bare feet curl against the shallowly carpeted floor mat. Sheer bliss, except those tender spots you’re pretty sure might be forming blisters. You’re not going to prod them just yet to verify.

“Thanks again for giving me a lift.” You introduce yourself.

“No problem. I was heading in this direction anyway. No reason not to. Put the radio on if you want. Or take a nap.”

You’re not sure sleeping is the best idea right now, as weary as you are. The man is still a stranger. So you opt for the first choice, fiddling with the dials until you find a station with a decent signal. Not really your type of music, but at least it’s background noise. You let your head tip back into the cradle of the head rest. Your eyes shut. You’re only going to rest them for a moment.

You fall asleep.

***

You jerk awake, suddenly aware the vehicle has stopped.

There’s a definite trail of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. You swipe at it hastily, straightening in your seat, your eyes darting around frantically. You’re suddenly thinking of the drink you’d been offered. Drugged? How stupid and careless can you be?

No. You’re mistaken, surely. Just tired. You can see you’re at a gas station. He’d stopped at a gas station. Nothing wrong with that.

You struggle to shove your feet—yes, those are blisters, a matching set for each foot—back into your boots, depressing the button to release the seat belt’s buckle, the restraint making a little whining sound as it retracts back into its plastic casing mounted on the side of the car. You push the passenger door open and it creaks in protest. You’re not about to pass up a chance to use the restroom, as vile as it probably is, and grab yourself a drink and a snack.

The man giving you a lift emerges from the store, and you realize then just how tall he is, mostly legs that go on forever. He’s got a rolling sort of walk that draws your attention to his hips. Your cheeks flush and you force yourself to look at somewhere safer, fixing back on his face. There’s a piece of cherry licorice between his teeth, shiny red twined ropes tucked through a barrier of even white, the pocket of his shirt bulging with what looks like a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of soda in hand. “Hey. I was going to wake you, just wanted to give you a chance to rest a bit more. You were really worn out.”

“Yeah, I guess I was.”

“Want something from inside? My treat.”

“No, I…I got it. You don’t mind waiting?”

“Not at all.”

“Th…thanks. I won’t be long.” You duck inside the shop to get a key for the restroom. It’s attached to a comically large piece of scrap wood. You unlock the restroom door and push it open with trepidation. Okay, not terrible. Seems relatively clean. Certainly not the grossest you’ve seen. No paper towels in the dispenser, but at least there was toilet paper. Even soap in the pump on the wall. Definitely could have been worse.

You return the key and peruse the aisles quickly, aware the man is still waiting for you. You decide water is still the best for hydration, opting for a package of mini powdered donuts for a snack. Not the healthiest option, but hey, you think you’ve earned it considering the day you’ve had.

Back inside the sedan, you slide the seatbelt back into place. You shove your feet free of the boots again and crack the plastic wrapper off the water bottle. It’s one of those ones with the nozzles you pull up and down to open and close it. You take a long pull and get started on the donuts. Your companion has made short work of the candy, chewing and staring at nothing in particular. He reaches for the pack—cigarettes, just as you’d suspected—in his shirt pocket and pulls the bit of red plastic tab that marks where to unravel the wrapper. He glances over at you as if to ask if you mind and you shrug. It’s not really your place to tell the owner of the vehicle you’re in if he can or can’t indulge.

He leans and pushes in the cigarette lighter on the dashboard, slotting one of the paper rolls between his lips while he’s waiting. For a time you sit in companionable silence, you nibbling on your donuts, your fingers and lips already dusted in powdered sugar, while the older man lights the end of his cigarette and takes a deep inhale, sighing the smoke out of the open window. You’re surprised he’s a smoker, honestly; his teeth look too pearly white for that. Maybe it was something he only did rarely, when the mood struck him. Traveling with a young female hitchhiker, perhaps.

You demolish the contents of the package in your lap embarrassingly quickly. You’d been starving. You lick the white coating off your fingers and lips and feel the man’s eyes on you as you crumple the plastic packaging in a tight ball. He points to the center console, where the lone vacant cup holder holds spare change and a faded looking receipt, the other occupied by his soda. You deposit your trash there and take another sip from your bottle, staring out the window. The engine rumbles to life. You hear the window crank being rotated and you copy the man, closing your own. The cool air soon returns, drafting welcomingly over your skin. The car is moving again. You’re on your way once more.

***

When the sun starts to go down, things feel different.

Maybe it’s because the radio signal has finally gone out of range. You tire of working your way through bursts of static and finally shut it off.

You wonder if the driver is getting tired at all.

He doesn’t seem it, his eyes focused on the road his headlights reveal, his posture still straight and upright. You don’t know how he maintains it. You can’t stop squirming, trying to get comfortable. Your ass hurts and your legs are cramped and you just want a shower and any even remotely flat surface that can serve as a bed.

“You never mentioned where you wanted to go.”

His voice startles you. It’s been so long since either of you has spoken. You’d forgotten how his sounded. That pleasant gravel drag.

“Hurricane. But I know that’s still a ways ahead. I don’t expect you to take me all the way there.”

“What’s in Hurricane?”

“Not what. Who. My sister.”

He grunts. “I’m going to Hurricane as well.”

“Really? Why?”

“That’s where I live. Where my business is.”

“What business is that?”

“Restaurant.”

“Really? Which one?”

“What do you think about stopping here for the night?” He gestures and you look through the windshield, seeing the lights of a motel glowing like a beacon against the growing darkness.

“Uh, yeah. I guess so.”

The turn signal taps in a rhythm that sounds a little too rapid, matching your elevated heart rate. You’re feeling nervous again. Mistrustful, although if the man had wanted to take advantage of you, he certainly could have done so before now.

He pulls into one of the empty spots in front of the office that shares a similar bit of crimson neon to match the motel’s vacancy sign. You speak before he exits the car, feeling pressured to say something before this continues any further.

“I’m grateful for the ride, and I know you’ve been nothing but kind this far, and I appreciate it. I might…I might just see if my sister can come pick me up tomorrow. I hope you’re not offended.”

He pauses, his fingers still curled around the door handle. “If that’s what you want.” You nod. “Alright, then. I guess this is where we part ways. Good luck to you, miss.”

“Thanks. You, too.” You’re suddenly feeling guilty. He really was just a nice guy trying to help a stranded woman out. He didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. “Maybe I’ll visit your restaurant, leave a generous tip for—” The door shuts and you cease talking. Well. That was one way to end a conversation.

You pull the boots back on and exit the car for what you think will be the final time. Your traveling companion is already inside, speaking to the man behind the counter. You can see the rows of keys with red tags hooked on the wall behind him. The man turns and pulls two down while the driver scribbles into a book on the counter. There’s a faint jingling of bells to announce your arrival, and the man passes you without a word.

“I need a room please. Single.” Your eyes glance down at the log book. You can’t read the signature of your benefactor. He still hasn’t told you his name.

“You’re all set, miss. Paid up by your friend there.” He waggles his eyebrows and nods towards the door.

“Oh, he’s not…”

“No?” The smile on the man’s features is far too suggestive. You grab the key off the counter, turning to leave.

“Sign the book, please. Then you can go to your room. Or your friend’s. Both paid for, so it’s all the same to me.” Another smug smile. You hurriedly scrawl your signature and exit the office, feeling your cheeks burn.

Your heels are loud on the decking that lines the front of the motel rooms. You glance down at the number printed on the tag, a chipped white six greeting your vision.

Your steps slow when you reach the correct door. The sedan is parked in front of the door beside yours. Of course the motel manager has given you rooms next to each other. Of course he has.

The man is apparently already inside the room, the car empty. You insert the key in the lock and shut the door, sliding the chain across. You close the blinds and turn to survey your surroundings. About what you’d expected. Dated furniture that felt straight out of the seventies. A carpet that badly needed to be replaced. You hoped there weren’t bed bugs. Gross.

You stride over to the bathroom. Chipped sink. Chipped toilet. Chipped tub too, but you don’t really care. You crank the faucet and let the water pour out, hastily reaching to plug the drain. You’re finally back out of that accursed footwear. Your clothes pile on the floor. Maybe not the best idea, but you’re too desperate to get into the tub just then.

It’s heaven. Sheer bliss, submerging yourself in that basin. You spend a long time soaking, letting your body temperature decrease. Scrubbing away the dirt that has clung so stubbornly to your skin. Rinsing your hair twice. You linger until your fingers prune and then you unplug the drain and turn on the shower, rinsing off a final time. You don’t have anything clean to sleep in, but you’ll survive. You’d wash your clothes in the sink, but it will take time to dry them. So back on the shirt and panties go. You leave your bra and skirt draped over the shower curtain rod. Fuck those boots.

You put the television on low volume and flip back the flower patterned coverlet. Well, it seemed insect free, anyway. You sink onto the mattress and pile the pillows together behind your head. You don’t hear any noise from next door. The room on the other side looked unoccupied, and the driver’s…well, maybe he’d just gone to bed.

He’d paid for your room. You had to thank him, at least. Damn it.

You slide back out of bed, returning to the bathroom to slip on your bra and skirt, cringing when you view those hated boots again. Fuck it. You’ll risk going barefoot. Knowing your luck you’ll step on a rusty nail and get tentanus, but fuck it.

You open your door, startled when you see the man standing outside. He’s leaning against one of the deck posts, smoking again. The end of the cigarette glows in the darkness.

“Thank you for paying for my room. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I’m aware.” He barely spares you a glance, blowing a stream of smoke and flicking the ashes from the end of the cylinder pinched between his fingers.

“You should let me pay you back. There’s a liquor store just down the road.”

“I noticed that.”

“I’ll treat you. Pick your poison.”

His eyes focus on you again, his gaze lingering on your bare feet. “I don’t think they’ll let you inside like that.”

“I’ll put the boots back on,” you grumble.

The man hums thoughtfully. “Tell you what. I’ll go get something and bring it back here to share.”

“But then that’s you doing me a favor again.”

“Yes.”

“So then I’ll owe you even more.”

“I’m not keeping track. That’s you doing that.”

You chew your bottom lip. “Why did you pay for my room?”

He shrugs, taking another drag. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”

You don’t have a response for that. Everything the man did just made you feel more and more ashamed for doubting his intentions.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I…beer is fine.”

“Then beer it is.” The remains of the cigarette land on the pavement and the man steps off the deck, grinding it beneath his heel. “I’ll be right back.”

You nod, settling into the one of the cheap plastic chairs beside a small circular table that served as a patio set. You can hear the faint hum of insects, or maybe it’s the neon signs. It’s still hot. The pleasant effects of your bath are already fading.

True to his word, the man returns with a case, setting it on the table and sitting across from you. He’s loosened his tie so that it drapes in a lazy knot around his neck. It doesn’t look like he’s sampled the motel’s plumbing just yet. He rips a hole through the carboard box and hands you one of the bottles before taking his own. Chilled, and already sweating. You wrap the hem of your shirt over the cap and twist it off. You take a sip and hear the satisfied sigh of your companion as he does the same.

“You didn��t tell me your name,” you say, fiddling with the metal cap with the crimped edges, spinning it on the table’s surface. There isn’t much room with the beer case there.

“It’s Steve.”

“Steve,” you repeat. “Steve what?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“In case I decide to look you up. You know, to pay you back.”

He waves a hand in the air dismissively. “You didn’t see what I wrote in the logbook?”

“Your handwriting is atrocious.”

Steve clutches his chest, sucking in his breath dramatically. “I’m deeply offended.”

“You’re not. Why won’t you tell me? Is it a big secret?”

“Maybe. Maybe I’m a celebrity, just trying to live like the common folk.” He takes a pull from the bottle.

“Yeah, sure. Just like the rest of us losers.” You pause. “You’re handsome enough to be an actor. Got the voice for it. I can kind of see it, actually.” The compliment slips from your lips before you can think better of it.

“Flattery, now? I don’t think my heart can take this much stress.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Probably.” He finishes the bottle and reaches for another.

“So out with it, Mister Movie Star. What is it?”

“Raglan.”

“See? Was that so difficult? Nice to meet you, Steven Raglan.”

“Not Steven. Just Steve.”

“Okay. Just Steve.” You finish your bottle and colllect another. “How come you’re so chatty all of a sudden? You didn’t say five words to me all day. Are you that much of a lightweight?” You gesture with the beer bottle.

“Hardly. I was concentrating on the road.”

“You could’ve talked more.”

“I apologize for not making your ride more entertaining.” He stands, resuming his position leaning against the post again. You rise as well, noting you are the actual lightweight, already feeling a bit lightheaded. Blame the empty stomach. You pad over to stand beside him. “I thought you wanted privacy. It’s not my place to ask for details about your life.”

You consider that. “You think I’m being nosy.”

“No. Not really.” He swallows another mouthful of beer. “You don’t trust me.”

“I…I’m being cautious. A woman stranded in the middle of nowhere should be, don’t you agree?”

“Of course.”

“If it was your wife, or daughter…”

He smirks. “Clever way to source the information you want. I’m no longer married. Children are grown. It’s just me. The handsome movie star, all alone.”

“Okay, okay.” You nudge his arm playfully.

“What about you?”

“Single as a Pringle,” you quip.

“That’s a new development, isn’t it? What you’re leaving behind.”

“Am I that transparent?”

“I’m good at reading people.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

You pull the now empty bottle from his hands and place it along with yours down on the table, selecting two more. You hand one to him and take a long sip from yours. They’re going down so smooth. You don’t even really like beer all that much. It’s making you feel warm and you hate that, but you like the buzz and you like the company, too.

“Okay, since you’re so insightful, tell me what I’m thinking right now?” You fold your arms across your chest, smirking after issuing the challenge. You’d meant it to be playful, but the look he gives you as he turns to face you holds no humor. Those blue eyes capture yours and trap them.

“You’re hoping your sister is more welcoming than you remember, because when you left, you weren’t on the best of terms. You’re hoping you can find a job soon and get back on your own two feet again. Relying on your ex so much was a mistake. You hate asking for help, even if you need it desperately. You—”

“—Stop.” You cut him off. “Don’t…don’t say that. You don’t know that. You don’t know me.”

“Alright.” Another shrug. He swallows more beer.

“How do you know so much?” Your voice is soft.

“I told you. I have a way with people.”

“You should be a fortune teller. Or one of those televangelists. Spouting prophecies that are actually real.”

“I despise religion. And I don’t predict the future. I just…understand people. Their motives. Even the ones they’re too ashamed to admit to.”

You’re not sure how to respond. The conversation is shifting, no longer light and comfortable and teasing.

“That’s why I don’t talk much. People don’t like hearing the truth,” he concludes, polishing off the rest of the alcoholic beverage he’s clutching. “I’m going to say goodnight now. It’s been a long day. Again, good luck.”

“Wait.” Your hand clutches his sleeve. “Let me…let me try it. What you just did.”

“You think you know all my secrets? Okay, I’ll indulge you. Go ahead.”

You lick your lips. “You’re coming back from somewhere you didn’t want to go, but you’re not exactly eager to get home, either. You’re tired of your business. You’re probably good at it, but it’s boring. Monotonous. You’ve always played by the rules. You long to break them, just once. See how the other half lives.”

His mouth curves slightly. “A nice attempt. But way off. Goodnight.”

He’s back at his door, hand reaching for the brass knob.

“You’re name isn’t really Steve Raglan.”

His fingers freeze. You see his shoulder blades stiffen beneath the dress shirt. He turns back to face you. Smiling again, but this one is darker, less friendly. “Good. That’s good. Clever girl.”

“What else have you lied about?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

You take a step closer to him. “Tell me now.”

“Why don’t you just ask for what you really want instead of playing this tedious game?”

Your mouth gapes, then snaps shut. “I don’t know what you’re…”

“This,” he breathes, dragging you to him, his lips touching yours.

Any protest you might have murmured dies. You melt against him, sink hands into hair that feels as dusty as yours had earlier, clutch handfuls of the rumpled fabric of his shirt that had undoubtedly started out the day crisply pressed and neatly tucked. He tastes like the beer he’s just consumed and the cigarette from earlier and you savor it all, letting him lick your mouth open for discovery. You’re shoved against the door and it strikes you again how tall he is, how much he towers over you. Those large hands already display more finesse than anything you’ve previously known, stroking over every curve, mapping each sensation. You hear the doorknob rattle as he fumbles it open, keeping you secured, not letting you tumble back into the sudden void at your back. His room is dark and he shoves you down onto the bed that’s still made. You wonder what he’d done while you’d been lingering in your own bathtub for all that time.

He’s at your neck and you’re at his pants and somehow you manage the belt and the fly while your skirt is lifted, panties tugged down. You’re not thinking about anything other than the need screaming between your legs, hot and damp and urgent, whimpering when you feel his cock pressing against your entrance. You’re not even sure if he’s shut the motel door in his haste to be at you.

He slides out of you almost as soon as he’s begun—you’re so wet and slippery—and he grabs your hips and shoves you back, leaning his body weight against you, and this time he fills you to the hilt. You wrap your legs around him and roll your hips to match his momentum, your mouth brushing facial hair before reconnecting with his lips. You’re fucking a stranger that lied about his name and you don’t care; it makes it better somehow, not really knowing. You don’t want to get caught up in details, in feelings again this soon. This man can be anything and everything and if it only lasts for tonight that’s fine, too.

His mouth tucks beside your ear and he whispers to you in that wonderful rusted voice of his, the hand slithering between your bodies stroking you just right, lighting those nerves up. He’s urging you to let go and you do, your body taut and then ragdoll limp as he pumps you full of his own release. You’re sticky, sweaty, pressed against him but you remain there, tucked now beside him, panting and spent and feeling better than you have in a long time.

You’ve nearly drifted off to sleep when you hear his voice again, or perhaps this is merely a dream, asking if you need a ride for the remainder of your journey.

You offer an affirmative answer, then inquire the last of your drowsy thoughts, asking if he might take the long way home.

You don’t hear an answer, already asleep. But that’s alright.

You can ask again in the morning.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #divider @cafekitsune

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seriouslysam8 · 15 hours

Note

Hey Sam, I saw you write about that one-shot of Harry jumping through the veil after Sirius and I wondered if you already published that one somewhere or if you are still writing it? If it’s the latter would you mind sharing snippet?😇 I am really curious now

It is not published. I started it around... fuck, maybe a year ago? So, you can tell, I never finished it. I had only a vague idea of where I was going with it. Then, I had other stories to write and just kind of... never finished it? I don't know if I ever will finish it. It's just been sitting in my WIP folder forever. You guys don't even know about half the stories in that folder just sitting there, collecting dust. I need to get plot bunnies out of my head or else I can't focus on what I'm working on.

Anyway, it's called Looking Glass.

“You’re Harry Potter?” Sirius asked.

Harry nodded. “Yes, my parents are Lily and James Potter. They named you my godfather.”

That seemed completely mental.

“Why would they name me godfather?” Sirius pressed.

Harry swallowed visibly. “Because you and my dad were best friends.”

Sirius wanted to laugh. Him and James Potter were best friends? They fucking hated each other.

“I’m not even friends with James Potter, let alone his best friend,” Sirius said in a soft voice.

The kid jumped back, jerking his limbs away from Sirius as though he had burned him. “Is that what’s different here? Who… whose my godfather then? Wait, am I even alive here?”

Sirius shrugged. “I don’t know but I know the Potters had a baby boy named Harry. Their supposed friend kidnapped the kid and brought him to the Dark Lord fourteen years ago. He murdered the kid, so I’m not sure how you’re here if you really are Harry Potter.”

Harry’s chest heaved. “What?”

Sirius squinted at the kid. “Unless he didn’t murder the kid and you’re the kid… but why would he connect you with me?”

“Sirius, I don’t think I’m meant to be here,” Harry whispered. “I just… I wanted to save you. Do you, do you think my Sirius is here?”

My Sirius.

Sirius stared at the kid like he had never seen anything like him before. The story seemed outrageous. Alternate universes. Him being friends with James Potter and godfather to his kid. It seemed like an impossible life to lead. Except the kid was staring up at him like he expected him to fix things, like he relied upon Sirius.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Sirius whispered, trying to wrap his brain around what was happening.

Harry took a step closer to him, his big green eyes staring up at him. “Will you help me? Will you help me find my Sirius?”

Sirius’ lips parted.

“You’re the only one I trust,” Harry whispered. “No matter what universe I’m in.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “That’s probably not the smartest idea, kid.”

Harry blinked up at him. “Why?”

Sirius don’t know what possessed him to do it. He raised his left arm, pulling up the sleeve of his dress robes. The Dark Mark shined brightly on his forearm, nearly glittering despite the poor lighting in the room. Harry stepped back, his eyes widening at the sight of the Mark.

“Tell me, does your Sirius have the Mark as well?” Sirius asked in a cool tone.

Harry shook his head. “No, he… he hated Voldemort,” he croaked, his eyes snapping up to Sirius’ face. “Why?”

Sirius pulled his sleeve down, not taking his eyes off the kid. “Because it was what was expected of me. Tell me, are the Blacks not aligned with Voldemort in your world?”

Sirius dove head first into the alternate universe explanation. The kid seemed to uniquely trust Sirius in a way he shouldn’t.

Harry only stared at Sirius. “They are… but you weren’t. You ran away from home when you were sixteen. You couldn’t take it anymore.”

Sirius snorted. “Where the bloody hell would I have gone?”

“The Potters,” Harry whispered. “You said you were always welcome at the Potters.”

Again with the fucking Potters.

“What I don’t understand is why I’m even close to the Potters,” Sirius snapped. “You said James Potter is my best mate?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, since you were eleven. You shared a dorm together, along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.”

The wheels spun in Sirius’ head. “Wait, I was in Gryffindor?”

Harry frowned. “You mean you weren’t here? Were you…?”

“Slytherin,” Sirius said in a dull voice.

“So, you never became friends with my dad or ran away or, or were named my godfather…” Harry whispered, his voice cracking. “And you joined the Death Eaters? Do you, err, do you believe in all that stuff too?”

Sirius stilled at the question. Truth be told, he never fucking cared about blood status or any of that tosh. But he had been forced to pretend to care. He had hurt people, killed people, all in the name of blood purity because he had no choice.

“No particularly,” Sirius admitted, shoving his hands into his robe pockets.

“Then, why’d you join?” Harry asked, his brows furrowing.

“I didn’t know I had a fucking choice,” Sirius seethed.

Harry swallowed. “My Sirius is part of the Order of the Phoenix.”

Sirius’ face pulled. “For real?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, you were since you left Hogwarts.”

Sirius didn’t know what to say or to think. But for some reason, he trusted the kid was telling the truth. There was some odd pull he felt towards him, almost like he cared for the kid even though he had never met the kid before.

“And you think your Sirius is somewhere in this universe?” Sirius clarified.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I just assumed because I showed up here that he would have as well.”

The door opened behind Sirius. Harry looked beyond him, his face instantly paling. Feet stomped and Sirius turned around slowly to come face to face with James Potter.

Potter grabbed him by the front of his robes and slammed him against the nearest wall. All the air left his lungs at the rough impact. Harry screamed ‘stop’. Robards only shut the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you playing at, Black?” Potter seethed.

Sirius only saw red. Best friends, his fucking arse. Maybe he should doubt the kid a little more.

“I’m as confused as you are,” Sirius replied through clenched teeth. “Get your hands off me.”

Potter didn’t. He shoved Sirius tighter against the wall.

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mermaidgirl30 · 7 hours

Text

✨Slip Into Me: Part 1 Saved Before Dusk✨

QZ! Joel x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Kofi

A/N: This just stumbled upon me when I was driving home from work this week, so I wrote this in about a day. I’m still not sure how I feel about the first chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for giving this a read for me! (I cannot keep up with tags, so be sure to go follow my notifications blog if you want to be notified when I post @mermaidgirl30-updates)

Chapter Summary: You run into trouble with one of the FEDRA soldiers, but a broad, handsome stranger comes along and intervenes.

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapter Tags: QZ! Joel, outbreak au, FEDRA soldier tries to attack reader, Joel steps in and saves reader, soft Joel, a bit of pining and a little flirting, eventual smut in next chapter, no use y/n

Word Count: 6.1k

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The Boston QZ is grimy, filthy, overrun with FEDRA soldiers who stalk and parade up and down the city of turmoil. Their tanks fill the streets night and day, ordering people around as if they were their own personal slaves. The buildings are rundown, furniture tattered and torn, bodies filing in and out day after day just trying to survive off the little ration cards they collect every week.

It’s not a place you wanted to stumble upon, not a home at all. But this was where you’d stay for now because your group was all gone, killed by feral raiders who murdered your friends in cold blood. You were the only one left, untouched in an infected world. You were lucky to make it out alive, but at what cost? You sure as hell didn’t want to stay here in this cage. But you guess it’s better than being attacked by infected or murdered in your sleep.

They offered you a little apartment, ration cards for a hard day’s work cleaning and organizing weapons for FEDRA. You don’t trust any of the soldiers, don’t dare look them in the eyes most days, only when you have to. Maybe one day you’ll make it out of here alive, but for now this place is giving you shelter, food, running water, electricity. It sure beats living on your own out in the woods somewhere where no one else can defend you. You’ve learned to be on your own, but that doesn’t mean you like it.

The air is warm as dusk draws near, the summer heat stifling even as you walk through the shade. Your shift is over, dinner gone and finished, so now it’s time to go back to your cold, lonely apartment. Maybe tonight you’ll actually get some decent sleep instead of waking up screaming from nightmares of distant times. You still see faces of loved ones you lost get murdered by infected and raiders, friends starve to death, companions freeze to death. You don’t know how you made it all this way, but you did. You had to stop holding on to the past, it wasn’t coming back for you.

You swipe your fingers against the cool bricks of falling apart buildings, making your way through the narrow alleyway that’ll lead to your apartment building. Just as you pass a stairwell on the side of the brick building, a dark shadow makes its way toward you.

You freeze, stopping dead in your tracks, fingertips still tracing the rough bricks. There’s a tall FEDRA man walking toward you. Navy blue pants, combat boots, a camouflage vest strapped tight to his chest. He looks menacing. Piercing blue eyes narrowing your way, coarse blonde locks that look like pure ice, a large scar running down the side of his dirty neck, and fists locked tight at his sides.

“Hey, girl. What do you think you’re doing out here all alone? Up to no good I suppose?” he asks as he stalks toward you like a hungry tiger, eyes locked with yours as a smirk meets his chapped lips.

You back up to the brick wall, feeling like you could sink like jello into the dusty cracks of the brown faded bricks. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. You’re trapped like a helpless little mouse. “No, I’m just trying to get back to my apartment.”

“Sun’s about to go down, shouldn’t be out so late in the day close to curfew. You’re up to no good, aren’t ya? Trying to sneak around and steal some ration cards?”

“No, I…”

“Don’t lie!” He bites back, jaw seething as he pulls your wrist and clamps down on your skin. It feels like wires setting your nerves on fire, like he’s ripping through your delicate bones.

“Please, I’m only trying to get back. Let me go,” you beg, using all your might to get out of his tight grip.

“I don’t think so, love. Thieves get searched, and I’m gonna search you till I find what I’m looking for,” he snarks.

Before you can fight your way out of this mess, he spins you around and pins you to the wall, slamming your face into the sharp bricks as you cry out in pain. He crowds your body, digging his fingers into your hips as his other hand shoves your face against the searing surface. You can’t break free, can’t fight your way out of this. He’s too strong, too overpowering. You’re completely helpless.

“Please, stop,” you whine, feeling a warm tear slip down your cheek.

“No, I don’t think so, doll. Think I’ll stay right here between your…”

Before he can finish his sentence, you hear a deep gruff voice growl behind you. “Get the fuck off her, Seth.” You feel the soldier’s weight being dragged off you, hear the sounds of a body being thrown into the side of the opposite wall.

You spin around and freeze, watching a stranger punch the soldier’s face with bruised knuckles. The soldier spits blood from his mouth, but the other man grabs the edge of his navy collar and pins his back against the brick wall.

“Think you’re a tough guy, Seth? Think it’s alright to put your filthy hands on her? I’m sure she didn’t ask you to, so mind your fuckin’ manners and keep your goddamn paws off her,” he growls, spitting up into the soldier’s wide eyes.

You don’t know what to do, what to think. All your brain can do is eye the back of the man who saved you. He’s tall, so very broad, wide shoulders, tousled dark curls that probably feel like silk. His green flannel is rolled up to his elbows, exposing cascading veins that drape down his tanned skin, ending in massive calloused hands. His dark jeans are faded, worn brown boots covering his feet. He looks like your knight in shining armor, your saving grace. Why he saved you, you don’t know. But you want to find out, now.

The soldier laughs in his face, but he only grips his collar tighter as he sends another punch to his swollen eye. When he spits more blood, he turns back to your savior and laughs casually like he didn’t just get beaten up. “Fancy meeting you here, Miller. Say, you ever find those cigarettes and drugs we sent you out for?”

He clenches his jaw, releasing his collar so he can push the soldier again against the wall. “Ain’t got nothin’ for you, Seth. You want some, you can give me more ration cards,” he hisses.

The soldier laughs, shaking his head back and forth. “Five,” he wagers.

“Ten,” the broad man demands with narrowed eyes.

He raises his hands in defeat and sighs. “Fine, ten it is. Just hurry up with my order, will ya?”

The other man slaps his face, hard. You can practically hear the split of a rubber band snapping against skin. The soldier cowers over, holding the side of his mouth in pain as he stands back up slowly. “Tell me to hurry up one more time, and I’ll break your jaw,” he seethes. “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready, Seth. You’ll be the very last.”

He narrows his cold blue eyes, pointing a finger accusingly at the man who saved you. “Better watch it, Miller.”

“You threatening me? I shouldn’t be the one that’s careful, you be careful. Wait till Tess hears about this,” he growls with furrowed eyebrows.

Seth backs up all wide-eyed and bruised, like he’s afraid of the name Tess. Before he can get anywhere, the broad bodied man nods his head to him. “Get out of here, and don’t mess with this girl again. Got it?” he growls with the bite of his scowling jaw.

Seth looks over at you and nods before he runs off in the opposite direction, clutching his vest like it’s the only thing keeping him at bay.

He huffs out a deep breath and turns to you, furrowed eyebrows turning into a contemplative, concerned expression. Your eyes go wide, taking in the front of his face for the first time. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Dark brown eyes that look like pools of honey hone your vision, sweaty, tanned skin glistening in the fading light of day. His dark beard is threaded with silver, a strong jaw set with plush lips that half open when he looks at you. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and he’s so fucking broad. You decide then that his eyes could kill, they could devastate anyone in their wake by how beautiful they are. Warm chocolate eyes flecked with wisps of honey brown. Absolutely breathtaking.

“You alright there?” he asks with concern lathered in his voice, careful with his large steps as he walks up to you.

“Oh, I’m… yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, suddenly forgetful on how to take deep breaths. Your heart is racing wildly, you swear it’s about to fly out of your chest.

He reaches out, but stops himself. Instead, he just points out the left side of your face. “Your face. You’re hurt,” he says with a scowl, clenching his hand into a tight fist at his side like he’s furious at the soldier for hurting you.

Your hand shoots up to the side of your face, and that’s when you feel it. The blood, the aching feeling of having your face bashed into the hard bricks. “Ahh, fuck,” you whine, hissing when you try to brush your fingertips over the swelling area.

“Here, c’mon. Follow me. I’ll get ya taken care of. I’ve got supplies back at my place. Can fix ya up in no time,” he offers as he nods his head for you to follow. You stay put, weighing your options. You don’t know this man, but he saved you, so he must be safe.

He takes a few steps forward and turns back around when he doesn’t see you following. “You comin’?” he asks with hope in his brown eyes.

You take a moment to breathe and then nod, agreeing to go with him. “Yeah, lead the way.”

You follow after him, letting him lead you away from the narrow, dark alleyway. When you get on the sidewalk of the main street you notice he walks on the outside of you, like he’s shielding you from any other soldiers who might give you a hard time. You don’t know why he does it, but you owe him a huge debt now.

You cross your arms over your teal t-shirt, looking up at the tall man who saved your life while he leads you to building two where he must live. You’re about to speak, but he beats you to it. “You know, you shouldn’t be out alone when the sun’s about to go down. A bunch of no good soldiers swarmin’ the streets here. What were you even doin’ out?” he asks, turning to a stairwell where he leads you up to the second floor.

“I was just heading back to my apartment. I got a late start with work today, had some things to finish up.”

He hums, looking back at you with furrowed brows. “Next time walk back with someone. Seth ain’t the only lowlife soldier. Gotta be more careful,” he tsks as he takes out a golden key in the pocket of his denim jeans.

You sigh, feeling as if he’s somehow blaming you for not knowing the safety rules around here. “Look, I’m new here. I didn’t know any better. I was just trying to get back to my place. I didn’t… I didn’t…”

“Whoa, hey. S’alright. Nobody said you did anythin’ wrong. I’m jus’ sayin’ watch yourself. Alright?” he asks with his hands raised, like he means no harm.

You drop your guard and sigh. “Sorry, just a little on edge,” you mutter.

“Don’t blame ya one bit. Now, c’mon. Take a seat at the table. I’ll get you a warm washcloth,” he instructs as he opens the rusted red door, the hinges squeaking while you make your way into his little apartment.

He shuts the door, and you take in your surroundings. The walls are covered with chipped white paint, the kitchen tiny, a little solid wooden table surrounded by two brown dining room chairs. The living room is open, a sunken leather couch with a broken coffee table sitting in the middle of an old, threaded blue rug. White satin stain coated curtains cover the glass window, and light shines dimly throughout the small apartment. It’s worn down, but it’s cozy enough.

You make your way over to one of the chairs, slowly pulling it back as to not make it drag across the hardwood floor. When you get comfy in the back of the chair, you watch Joel disappear into the other room, listening to the trickle of a running faucet while the bathroom light shines down the narrow hallway.

You fidget your fingers together, tapping your foot nervously on the dusty floor. You’re in his apartment, the man who just saved your life. And he’s tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome. His looks could surely kill a man with just the gaze of those dark flecked eyes. He had danger written all over those honey colored eyes. Eyes that could eat you alive.

He comes back down the hall a minute later, tan washcloth in hand, flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, corded veins skating all the way down to his massive hands. You’re nervous just by those large, thick fingers grasping the washcloth. You wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. Maybe like burning fire, hot charcoal, extreme heat rushing off his rough fingertips. He might feel like wildfire.

He pulls up the kitchen chair across from you and grunts when he sits, like his whole body hurts from the weight of working in the summer heat of the QZ. “Look up for me,” he requests, sliding his chair a tad bit closer to yours, enough to brush his knees against yours.

You gasp when his fingertips meet your skin, his hand cupping your chin and turning your injured cheek to where he can reach you. You were right. His fingers do feel like wildfire, calluses gliding against your smooth skin as he gets a good hold on you. It’s almost enough to send you jolting from the chair.

“This might sting a bit. Jus’ hold still,” he says gently, a deep voice escaping behind plush lips. You wince a little when the warm material meets your wound, but you relax when he gives you that certain look that says be still.

You hiss a little at the contact of the warm cloth across the scrapes on the side of your face. He makes eye contact with you and asks with those deep brown eyes if you’re okay, stopping his movements for just a second before you nod and let him continue.

From here you can see how clear the dark flecks in his eyes shine, a faint red scar above his right eye, silver threaded coarse beard that looks almost soft to the touch, and pink lips that look so inviting. He watches you study him, his own eyes flicking back and forth from your injury to your eyes, silently assessing you with a wary stare.

You see it in his eyes, he’s curious about you, maybe interested, but he doesn’t give much away. You see pain behind those dark irises, a worn body just getting by in the QZ day after day. You don’t know him, but you can tell this much. He’s reserved, quiet, careful, a man that keeps his guard up. You’d like to see behind those walls, if only for a moment. See what all he’s really been through.

After a couple more seconds of silence he finally talks. “You new here? Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”

You nod, watching him trace the edges of the warm washcloth across your cheek. “Yeah. Just got here a couple weeks ago,” you murmur, clenching your jaw when he rubs against a really sore area of your cheek.

“What the hell brought you here?” He says it rough, like he can’t believe anyone would ever dare come here by their own will.

“Raiders attacked my group. I was the only one left alive, and I just sort of stumbled upon the QZ gates. One of the soldiers found me and offered me a place here.”

He hums, dark eyes assessing you slowly, sliding down your body briefly as something twists in your stomach at the sight of him really taking a good look at you. “M’sorry ‘bout your group, but I’m more sorry you ended up here in this hell hole. FEDRA runs this place, and none of ‘em are remotely friendly. Especially Seth.” He spits the name out like it’s poison on his tongue, and you see he can’t stand the man that attacked you.

You purse your lips and ask him the same. “And you? Why are you here?”

He drops the washcloth from your skin, clenching his jaw as he stares with a hardline drawn on his forehead, shaping wrinkles across tanned skin. “That’s a long story that I don’t feel like answerin’ right now.”

Before he brings the lukewarm washcloth back up you grab his wrist, preventing him from lifting his arm further. He stares at you, eyes partly narrowed, challenging you to ask him again. “At least tell me where you’re from. Your accent, are you from the south?”

He leans back in his chair and sighs, nodding his head slowly. “Came from Austin, Texas. And you?” He raises his thick eyebrows like you owe him the same gratitude of telling him where you’re from.

“California. Northern part,” you answer, listening to him hum once again until he brings the washcloth back to your temple.

“You’re a little far from home ain’t ya?” he asks quietly while he brushes the soft material over your face.

“Unfortunately,” you mumble under your breath. Another flick of those pools of honey your way and you see a hint of concern, maybe even sadness buried in those flecks of darkness. He seems to have so many layers to him. You want to unravel them, unfold every piece and dig into his past, his present, his mind. And maybe you’ll get there, one day. Maybe, just maybe…

You suddenly realize you don’t even know his name, how have you not asked him yet? You heard the soldier say Miller. Maybe that was his last name.

You pick at the fading denim of your jeans and raise your eyes to his hesitantly. “Your name. I didn’t catch it.”

Another brush to your raw skin, and his soft brown eyes meet yours. “Joel Miller. And your name is?” he asks with a piqued interest, raising his eyebrows slightly. You tell him your name and he says it back to you slowly, another flick of his dark eyes over your body. Like he’s memorizing you entirely. Your name, your shape, your essence. It makes the room sticky and hot at the sight of his eyes exploring you, even if it means nothing.

“Joel…” you repeat, slowly spilling the syllables off the tip of your tongue.

“That’s right…” He says your name again slowly, like honey dripping off his warm tongue, every murmur and gruff sound making you a bit dizzy.

“You’re gonna be alright. Might bruise up a bit, but nothing that’ll last long. Gonna be sore tonight, jus’ clean it good and keep it dry. Ain’t gonna scar over,” he says as he nods to your face.

He cups your chin again, turning you slightly to him as his calloused fingertips brush a strand of hair behind the slope of your ear, breathing down your neck as you finally smell him. He smells woodsy, summer sweat kissing the air, cheap whiskey filling your senses. Then he looks deep in your eyes, one hand falling slowly to the top of the table, fingertips curling over the scratched wood, his jaw flexing as his eyes travel down to your lips for just a second, a breath in time. And suddenly you’re frozen in place, waiting for something to happen, something that shouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t, he’s not…

Another soft graze of his rough knuckles to your cheek and then the front door slams open, sending both of you back in your chairs.

“Joel! Got some information for you about the drugs we gotta… Oh.” She stops in the doorway, eyes wide as she looks at you, surprised Joel has company. She’s tall, thin but built with muscle. She’s strong, long brunette hair, and hazel eyes clouding her vision.

“Joel Miller has company? Who might this be?” she asks curiously, slamming the door shut with a bang as she folds her arms over chest and nods your way.

Joel introduces you two, and you quickly learn her name is Tess. “Nice to meet you, Tess,” you say with a small smile, your arm resting on the edge of the table.

“Likewise. What happened to you? Looks like you got knocked up pretty good there.”

“It was Seth. Fucker had her pinned against one of the alleyway walls and was givin’ her trouble,” Joel spits as he flashes his incisors Tess’s way.

“That piece of shit. Wait till I get a hold of him, gonna make him wish he never saw the light of day,” she scoffs.

“He’ll be running for the hills, Tess,” he chuckles as he places his meaty hands on top of his large thighs. “What’d ya need?”

Tess leans up against the fading wallpaper and throws him a pack of chewing gum. “Found this when I was outside the walls today, but just wanted to check in about tomorrow. Wanted to go over the plans before we head out in the morning. I can come back later though and discuss it.”

Tess’s hazel eyes wander over to you, and she gives you a welcoming smile. “So, how long have you been here? Not long because I would’ve noticed a new face.”

“Just a couple weeks. Just getting settled in,” you reply as you play absentmindedly with your hair.

“Where do they have you working at? I can always stop by, give you some tips, show you around the area. I’m sure you could use a friend.”

You nod and smile up at her. “Yeah, thanks. They’ve got me working down at the weapons station. Cleaning and sorting and whatever else they tell me to do.”

“I see. I’m sure that gets redundant and boring, so maybe I can show you a thing or two to not lose your mind in this shithole,” Tess replies, making her way over to Joel.

“You’re lucky this one was around,” Tess says with a firm slap to Joel’s back, stifling a grunt from him as he pushes Tess playfully in the arm. “Joel can be a real pain in the ass, but he’s sure nice to have around.”

“Yeah yeah, shut up. Thanks for the gum,” Joel chuckles as he pushes the pack of Spearmint gum into the pocket of his jeans.

“Sure thing, handsome. I’ll see you later.” She waves and gives you a nod before heading out the door. “Welcome to the Boston QZ again.” Tess makes her grand exit and shuts the door loudly, her footsteps fading into the distance.

You twist your hands in your lap, suddenly overstimulated by the presence of an intimidating woman who clearly gets her way in the QZ. You wish you were stronger, braver, more outspoken like her. And clearly she knows how to pull Joel’s strings. You’re not jealous of her, only slightly envious that she has Joel hooked around her finger.

“She seems nice,” you say slowly, looking over at Joel as he laughs at your words.

“Yeah, she ain’t too bad. Trust me, she’ll be having Seth shakin’ like a dog out in the freezin’ rain,” he chuckles.

You laugh at his words, but suddenly you’re asking something you shouldn’t be. “Are you guys like… together?” you ask nervously, gulping down the rest of your words as you hold your breath like you’re underwater.

“Me and Tess? Nah,” he laughs, shaking his head at the mention of it. “She’s my neighbor. But we work together, she’s my partner. We smuggle things for FEDRA.”

“Smuggle things?” you ask, confused by what he means.

He leans forward and places his hands on the table. “Yeah, smuggle things. Items, sometimes people, whatever they need. We go out on a bunch of missions. Searching abandoned buildings, makin’ trades, doin’ deals with folks around here and for some of the soldiers. Kind of an easy way to get extra supplies and ration cards.”

“So you’ve got sway with the soldiers here?” you ask curiously.

“More or less. Tess is the one with the real sway, but I guess you can say people kinda fear me. They don’t really mess with me. Hell, they know not to.” He knocks his knuckles against the edge of the table, and you reach up to scratch your face, wincing when you forget how god awful sore it is.

“Shit, I forgot about my face,” you whine, gripping the edge of your denim tight as you sink your nail beds into your thigh.

“Careful there, try not to mess with it,” he warns softly, bringing back the cool washcloth to your scratches. You sit back and let him tend to your wound, watching how careful he's being with every swipe of the cloth to your fragile skin.

He’s close again, close enough to where you can smell him, inhaling the woodsy scent as summer sweat mixes with the pinecone scent. You could get drunk off the smell, and you really hope it’ll stick to your clothes when you’re back in your apartment, alone with your delusions of having his large hands all over your skin.

You watch the way his large biceps cling against his flannel shirt, like he’ll rip the soft material at any given moment. His knees brush against yours, fingertips grazing your jawline like the edge of a soft feather, enough to send tingles down your spine.

“Is it just you here?” you ask while he holds the damp cloth to your cheek.

“Jus’ me,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking back to yours.

“Do you have family around. Anywhere?” you ask cautiously. His jaw clenches, and his lip quivers while he analyzes the question, figuring out if he wants to answer or not.

He sighs, “I’ve got a brother. Tommy.”

“Here?”

“Nah. Haven’t talked to him in years. Last I heard he was settling in Jackson, Wyoming,” he mutters, clearly annoyed about the topic of conversation.

“Why don’t you go find your brother?” you ask, conflicted if you should continue the questions.

“It’s complicated,” he grumbles.

“What’s so complicated?”

“He’s halfway across the country.”

“So?” you say mockingly.

“So? That’s a hell of a ways to go to find someone that I’m not sure even wants to see me,” he says with gritted teeth.

“Joel, I’m sure he wouldn’t be upset. What makes you think he wouldn’t want to see you?”

“We got into a bad fight, and we weren't agreeing on some things. Turns out we wanted different things, so I told him to leave, and he went. Followed some fireflies, hell if I know how long he actually stayed with them,” he scoffs, digging his worn boot into the wooden floor.

“Fireflies?” you ask with wide eyes.

“That’s what I said,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, getting annoyed with you already, but you just keep talking.

“Oh, that’s… well, that’s something. But I’m sure he’d want you to try to reach out. Would you go, if you thought he would? Do you have any other family?” you ask intrigued, pulling yourself to the edge of the seat.

He leans back and drops the washcloth to the table, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “You sure do ask a bunch of questions, don’t ya?” he huffs, crossing his arms as a hard line maps across his forehead.

“Well, I’m just saying. If I had family still alive I sure as hell would go find them, not stand back and watch them slip away from me! I fucking wish I had mine!” Your words come out louder, harsher than you mean to, and Joel’s just sitting there, staring at you with wide eyes and an expression you can’t quite read.

The room is suddenly silent, only the sounds of your labored breathing and teary eyes fogging up the room. You shouldn’t have snapped, shouldn’t have thrown that back in his face. You shouldn’t have pried, now look what you’ve done. “Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

He opens his mouth partially, big brown eyes lathered in concern holding your gaze. He looks like he understands your pain, maybe just a fraction of that. But he doesn’t share it with you. “S’alright. Don’t gotta apologize. Think we both jus’ over shared a little too much.”

You nod, biting your tongue from saying anything else stupid. What’s wrong with you? “Yeah, guess so.” You take a deep breath, hearing him scrape his chair back while his left arm rests on the edge of the table.

You see it then, a black military watch clasped to his wrist, the glass broken and arms not moving on the watch. It’s broken, just a mere memory of some sort that you want to unlock, but now is not the time.

“Think I should get you back to your place,” he says in a deep voice, one that says he’s finished talking about family matters.

“Yeah, okay,” you say quietly.

“Where are you stayin’ at?”

“I’m in building four.”

“Alright then. That ain’t too far. C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Make sure no soldiers give ya a hard time,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Joel, wait.” Before he can push himself up, you rest your hand on top of his, feeling his warm skin simmer underneath yours.

He stares at your hand on his, ticking his jaw nervously as his brown doe eyes fall back on yours. “Thank you, for today, for saving me.”

“It was nothin’, don’t mention it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand out from under yours, memorizing the way his hand feels like fire underneath yours, mourning the loss of his skin on yours.

“I owe you.”

He looks at you with a serious gaze, his thick fingers clamping down on the material of his flannel. “Don’t owe me a damn thing, sweetheart. I’d do it all over if I had to.”

Oh.

His jaw twitches, amber eyes glowing into yours, a sudden tension filling the room. It feels a lot like longing, understanding, some kind of connection. But the spark of it snaps when he pulls back his chair and stands, nodding for you to follow him. “C’mon, let’s get you back before we break curfew.”

He leads you out of his apartment, down the rickety stairs and steers you through the winding buildings, avoiding FEDRA’s eyes on the main road. His fingertips brush against yours as he walks briskly next to you, staying near and looking every which way as to not have another run in with a soldier.

The city is musty, old brick buildings barely staying intact. Military tanks litter the streets while old broken down cars sit to rot around the QZ. You stay close to Joel, keeping quiet as he concentrates on getting you back to safety.

You should be grateful to him, you are grateful. He saved you, even though he really didn’t have to. He took care of your wounded cheek, made sure you got back to your place safely. You were eternally grateful for the broad man that showed you kindness when no one else did in this godforsaken city. Joel was a good man, as far as you could tell.

He leads you to your building, the one with the number four painted in white on the side of the old bricks. Your room is the first door on the right, a chip right next to the jiggling door handle.

You turn around and face him, leaning up against your solid oak door as you look up into those dark brown eyes you’ve grown accustomed of thinking about too much. “Thank you, Joel. For everything. Really, I owe you.”

He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled curls as he smiles a crooked grin your way. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, sweetheart. You gave me company, I’ll call that even enough.”

You swallow, nodding his way. “Alright then. I guess I’ll let you get back before they catch you outside your apartment.”

You turn around and twist the door handle, pushing it open until he stops you in your tracks and places his fingers around your wrist. “Wait a second.”

“Huh?” you ask, whipping back around to find him digging inside his back pocket and retrieving a little switchblade in his hand.

“Here.” He stretches his arm out and holds out the knife, nodding for you to take it. You just stare at it, your mouth open wide without even taking a step forward to take it.

“Well, go on. Take it.” He steps forward, brushing against your knuckles as he pries your fingers open and drops the knife in your palm, closing your fingers over the switchblade so you have no option but to keep it.

“Oh, no. Joel, I can’t. This is yours,” you argue.

He tsks your way, clicking his tongue and urging you to listen. “Keep it, I’d feel better knowin’ you had somethin’ to defend yourself with. Ya know if someone tries to mess with you again. Jus’ be careful with it,” he instructs.

You open your palm and assess the bronze blade, tracing the cold edges, watching the glisten of the sharp tip reflect off your eyes. You close it up and slide it in your pocket, looking back at Joel with a wide smile. “Thanks, Joel. You didn’t have to.”

“I did and stop thankin’ me. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Jus’ want you to be safe is all,” he murmurs, his deep voice carrying through your ears as he pushes his hands nervously in his jean pockets.

“Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out in a mere whisper, but he hears you through the hot wind that blows against your hair.

“Jus’ watch your back, okay? It ain’t easy around here, and you can’t trust anybody.”

“What about you?”

He knits his brows together and gives you a tight lipped smile. “You can trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He cups your chin, rough fingertips meeting your soft skin. It almost feels electric, like his fingers are magic, and maybe he is. That’s what he feels like.

His eyes hover over your lips for just a second, peeling them back up to meet your wide eyes. He’s got a soft side to him, something someone would miss if they weren’t looking close enough. You have a feeling he doesn’t let his guard down with just anyone, but with you he did, if only for just a few seconds.

He drops his hand from your chin and steps back, keeping his eyes aligned with yours. “Guess I’ll see ya around,” he says, stepping back away from your apartment.

“Yeah, guess you will,” you breathe.

He nods your way and gives you a small smile. “Have a good night, trouble.”

“Trouble?” you question, laughing at the accusation.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Trouble,” he chuckles as he makes his way back through the narrow buildings, disappearing with one more glance your way, capturing the deep brown eyes that look your way, memorizing them, burning them in the backs of your eyes so you can remember every fleck and sparkle of those sweet honey eyes.

You walk into your empty apartment and close the door, kicking off your shoes and dragging yourself to your falling apart mattress. You collapse into the cool white sheets, closing your eyes and replaying every glance, every touch, every word of you and Joel’s time together. You don’t know what’s come over you, but you clearly have fallen for the broad shouldered man with beautiful brown eyes.

Maybe the QZ wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it wouldn’t end you like you thought it would. Maybe just maybe Joel would be your saving grace. Maybe those honey glazed eyes would haunt your dreams until you saw him again. And that’s exactly what happened that night. All you saw were crystal clear brown eyes and tousled curls tracing through your fingertips, sheets drenched in the summer sweat of him. You knew then that you were fucked.

Tags: @milla-frenchy @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @aurorawritestoescape @akah565

@rav3n-pascal22 @keylimebeag

#joel miller #Joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #post outbreak joel #outbreak!joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller pedro pascal

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pinky-mouse · 2 days

Text

The Sorrow of The Blue (Prt. 2)

Note: Sorry if this is very erratic looking. (T-T)

“You can’t just—just abduct random people!” Pearl squawked, her hands grasping at her hair as if she were ready to rip it out. Knowing her, she probably was.

“I didn’t abduct anyone,” You reply, a little taken aback by everyone’s reaction. Your face becomes crestfallen as you look around you. “I just wanted the human to meet you all. He was so wonderful to me, I thought that I should share his wisdom with you all.”

Before Pearl could get another incoherent stammer out, the door to the house swung open.

“Blue!” Greg frantically rushes out of his coastal home, his son Steven following behind him.

You smile again, looking hopeful as you bend down to look at him at a more suitable level. “Hello again, Greg. It’s been a while.”

“Hi to you too,” He nods, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead as he looks at the older man next to your form. “Blue, you can’t just take whoever you please.”

“I didn’t take him, he came willingly.” You replied softly, your eyebrows turning upward with disappointment again. “He didn’t protest at all. And he reminded me so much of you, I thought you two should become acquainted.”

Everyone around you, minus Steven and the older gentleman who you had not taken the time to know the name of sighed and shook their head.

“What’s the matter?” You ask wearily. You felt so isolated and alone all of a sudden. You’ve done something wrong again, haven’t you?

The lump in your throat returned, and you couldn’t swallow it down. Your droopy eyes began to dampen, and unbeknownst to you, the environment around began to envelop in the blue embrace of your persistent despair and hurt.

“I’m sorry,” You murmur, large tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, please don’t look at me like that…”

No matter how many times you’ve (accidentally) affected the gems with your sorrowful energy, they’ve never gotten used to it. It was like an anchor, weighing them down to the furthest depths of the dark and cold ocean.

And that was just a crumb of your pain. Even though your ability was so strong, you still bore the brunt of it all. Nobody could understand— fathom your agony.

Except Steven. “It’s okay,” He said quietly to you, snapping you out of your daze. His hand, which was so small in comparison to your giantess figure, pressed against your cloak. “you’re going to be okay, Blue. Just tell us what happened.”

You wiped your eyes, your lips parted slightly in awe at how quickly the boy took you out of that pit of self deprecation. He was so much like Pink. You almost shed a few more tears before you shook your head.

No, answer the question. You told yourself. Stop crying, that’s enough. You’ve done enough harm already.

“I was traveling through the human cities. And I found myself in a dark little place called Gotham City.” You say slowly, as if you can’t remember what you’ve done or have been to.

“I felt so…so helpless there. There’s so much suffering there, and I couldn’t bear to witness it anymore. So I found somewhere quiet to rest.” You look for the man you had taken with you from New Jersey all the way to Beach City, a place near Ocean City, Maryland.

You don’t seem him anywhere.

“Where is the human?” You question, your eyebrow raising as you look around him. Just as you had gone from bashful to distraught, your attitude was quickly souring. “Where has he gone off to?”

Greg was missing as well.

Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and Steven watched you get yourself worked up silently.

Your fists clenched at your sides. “Why will none of you answer me? Where is the human?”

“He’s with my dad, inside.” Steven speaks up, his hand never leaving the fabric of your garments. “Don’t worry, he’s just helping Alfred get back to his family.”

“Family?” You repeat, your own hands loosening. “Alfred, his name is Alfred. How peculiar. You humans have the strangest names.”

“Uh, sorry?” The fourteen year old apologizes sheepishly, not sure what else he could say.

Garnet shifts, her hand going up to adjust her silver shades. “You,” She begins in her cool tone. “took the butler of Bruce Wayne.”

Everyone goes silent, the only things being heard was the sounds of the waves softly crashing against the shore and the seagulls flying overhead.

“WHAT!?” Pearl wails as Amethyst snorts. “YOU KIDNAPPED A BUTLER!?”

Even Steven gasps. “The billionaire?”

“What, what’s happening?” You ask. Is there supposed to be some significance to this? You don’t get it. “Bruce Wayne? Who is that?”

“An elite, very powerful businessman.” Pearl breathes, she looks as if she’s going to faint.

Amethyst chimes in. “Yeah, we’re probably going to get into a lot of trouble when he gets here.”

Despite everything that’s happened with Steven and the Crystal Gems, a majority of people outside the city didn’t know they existed. At all. So you kidnapping the servant of a prestigious human man was going to blow everyone’s cover.

“I’m sorry,” You sigh, running a hand down your arm. You didn’t have the energy to cry. Or do anything else, really. “I’m very sorry, everyone.”

“We-we’ll figure something out, don’t worry!” Steven says encouragingly. You almost smile, had it not been for the way he immediately turned to the others with a look of worry.

Of course he was looking at you like that. Like you were pitiful. You were.

You needed to leave, you’ve done more harm than good at this point.

As you went around to the back of the house, you shrunk your form so that you were no longer as large and problematic as you had once been.

You had no clue how long you had been sitting on that large rock, letting the ocean water splash against the hem of your clothings. You still didn’t crying you refused to.

You held your head in your hands, a headache worming its way into your body. Whispers etched themselves into your mind, and your chest tightened.

The only thing that brought you back to the real world was the yelling coming from Steven, and as you lifted your head, you heard his words more clearly.

The boy was running to you, his hand outstretched and a look of fear on his face as he cried, “No! Don’t!”

‘Don’t, what?’ You wanted to ask, but before you could get the words out, before you could turn your head to see who he was pleading to, you felt a piercing stab in your stomach.

You looked down, mouth agape as you saw the sharp blade sticking out of you. Just you blinked, your mind catching up with your eyes, you went *(Poof!)*

And your gem splashed into the icy waters of the ocean.

#dc universe #steven universe #blue diamond #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #nightwing #dc robin #red robin #red hood #batman #batfam #crystal gems #steven universe crossover

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subsystems · 2 days

Note

Do you have any tips for system mapping as a polyfragmented system? Every time we've tried to make one we've just gotten overwhelmed by how many parts there are and how much we don't know

Hi anon! I have some advice based off of my own experience. I hope it will work for you (I'm sorry if it doesn't, though). First, I want to stress that it's okay if you can't create a perfect system map. I've never been able to make one that felt 100% correct, and I've tried many times!

Being dissociative can make it quite difficult to understand what's going on internally. You might have a hard time understanding yourself as an individual part, let alone understanding the other parts in your system. On top of that, your system might have some complex inner organization, like subsystems or parts-within-parts. Don't even get me started on how amnesia can make this all even more confusing, too!

So, remember to cut yourself some slack when it comes to system mapping. Your struggles with it are completely understandable!

Tips for System Mapping When Your System is Confusing as Hell

Make your own template.

A lot of pre-made system mapping templates contain things that don't apply to everyone, aren't important to everyone, or not everyone knows enough about their parts to answer. Some designs might not fit how your system functions. So, if pre-made templates don't work for you...don't use them! Try making your own!

When it comes to your own template, I think it's important to be mindful of your current stage of recovery. If you don't know a lot of things about your parts, that's okay -- that's where you're at in your recovery right now. In that case, you probably shouldn't create a template that requires you to write down a ton of information. Allow yourself to include your confusion and questions into your system map!

Think about what you want to keep track of when it comes to your parts. What would be the most useful things for you and your therapist to know? Yours will probably look different but here was the template that I settled on:

Does the part have a name?

Do they feel younger or older than the body?

What are they associated with?

Anything else?

And here's an example of how I would fill this out:

Does the part have a name? I don't think so

Do they feel younger or older than the body? Much younger

What are they associated with? The color yellow, puppies, childhood, abandonment, crying

Anything else? Likes puppies and drawing, sometimes buys candy without our knowing, unsure if this is one part or actually several

Get messy with it.

I understand the desire to have a neat system map. I've always wanted to have a perfect list of all my parts, all the important details about them, maybe organized into some sort of chart too. But these things doesn't always capture the complexities of being dissociative and having parts. Sometimes, you got to get messy.

I feel like the closest I ever came to a system map that felt the most "right" was in my therapist's sand tray. I picked out different figurines to represent my parts, placing some closer together than others. I would also move the sand, making big and low hills beneath and between parts, burying some things, cutting lines around other things. Something like this picture, but way more chaotic:

You can do this at home. You don't even need sand or figurines. You could grab some objects from around the house or outside, print or cut out pictures, grab some paints, scribble on paper, sculpt something out of clay, etc. Pick out something to represent certain parts or feelings or situations. Place them wherever, move them however, just let it kind of unfold naturally. Then take a picture of it and/or write about it (so you don't forget)!

Maybe put the trauma stuff somewhere else.

You'll probably feel tempted to record trauma memories and triggers associated with parts -- but it's probably best to write that stuff down somewhere else! You want your system map to be something that all parts can look at. Try not to jump-scare them with trauma that they may or may not know about yet.

This won't apply to everyone but, in my own experience, including stuff like this in our system map triggered our avoidance. Not only did it make creating the system map harder, it also resulted in some parts destroying/hiding what we wrote as a way to protect themselves and other vulnerable parts.

Aaand that's all I have to say, I think. Good luck with your system mapping, anon! - Sunflower

#actuallydid #dissociative identity disorder #actuallypolyfragmented #actuallytraumagenic #actuallydissociative #actuallycdd #complex dissociative disorder #system mapping #did support #sunflower posts

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dsireland86 · 2 days

Text

LOVESONG

Nicholas Ruffilo x Reader

18+ for smut, language, and angst

"However far away I will always love you However long I stay I will always love you/Whatever words I say I will always love you I will always love you"

TAGS:

@somewhere-diamond, @philomenie, @pathion, @acciobuckybarness

Lovesong

“Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am home again/ Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again.”

The constant dragging of the pen across my skin doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would. Nick was right when he told me I'd be fine. I watch him, how he easily guides the needle over my skin, following the lines of the words painted on my arm. It’s a simple tattoo; simple words in simple writing, but it’s the meaning behind them. It’s what it represents that makes me smile. I look up at Nick and watch his expression, so serious, so focused, and smile, grateful that he's mine.

“There, finished,” he says, turning off the pen and removing his gloves. I bring my arm over and grin when I see the finished product. It’s perfect. I have no intention masking the tears forming behind my eyes either because if there’s anything Nicholas knows best about me it’s that I get emotional when it comes to him, so I leave them, letting them softly slide down my cheeks. The words carry a deep meaning for me and Nick ever since we listened to the song they belonged together. It was the first time we kissed, and that first kiss led to many sweet, hot make out sessions and moments of realizing that neither of us wanted anyone else. They were the bridge that connected our hearts together and reminded us of the truth; that we would always love each other. Looking up into his pale green eyes, he slid his hand over my cheek while holding my stare, smiling.

“I love it, thank you baby.” Grinning, I pull Nicholas into me, giving him a gentle kiss, but the more he leans into me, the more greedy I become. Our tongues meet and dance together as I grip the corner of his shirt with my one good hand and cling to him, never wanting to let him go. If I do, I might stop breathing. “How can I be so fucking attracted to you by just you laying in chair like this,” he mumbles against my lips while climbing on top of me. Giggling, I welcome him, opening my legs wider so he can lay into me and when he does I instantly feel complete. The pressure of his swollen length, hard against my heat, stirs the fire in me that is yearning to ignite into something unstoppable. Nick’s breath is shaky, telling me he’s thinking of things he probably shouldn’t be, but rubs noses with mine anyway, caressing the side of my face with his long, tattooed hand. He creases his brow in frustration, trying to find a stimulant for the friction between his own legs. I want to be that stimulant so I encourage him by arching my back and thrusting my sex against him. “Why am I so freaking in love with you,” he grumbles and lowers his lips to my neck. I arch my head back further to give him more access and moan as he continues rubbing against me. “I could write poems on your neck with my lips; that’s how much I love you.” I feel the low rumble of a growl against his chest as his lips slide across my neck.

“You just love the idea of me,” I joke.

“No.” Nicholas pulls back and looks at me. “No,” he says again, caressing the side of my face again. "I do love you,” pecking my lips. I can’t help but smile a little and pull him down with my one good arm, and kiss him, hard.

“I love you too; so much that I can’t even explain it.”

Nick’s eyes have always been the focal point for me. They were the first thing I ever noticed about him. They way they look at me, see me, they just make me dive right into him, head first with no regret. We stare into each other for a moment and just when I think he’s about to get up, he lifts my shirt up instead and begins to drag his hands over my belly and under the waistband of my leggings, making me gasp. He looks up at me with a smirk and tugs at my leggings, until he has them partially down.

“Nick, what the fuck!” I’m so scared someone’s going to catch us.

“Relax, Y/N. We’re good. It’s late. No one’s coming back tonight.” He gets up off me and pulls the privacy curtain that loops entirely around his work space closed.

“Better,” he asks? I nod, giving him a shy smile. “Are you going to leave me like this?” pointing towards my bottom half. Nick pulls out his phone and my eyes grow wide. “Don’t you dare, Ruffilo,” I scold him. But he just smiles and snaps a few pictures of me before I’m able to do anything. “For memories sake,” he smirks. “No!” I cry, throwing my head back, laughing. Leaving me exactly how I am, Nick begins to clean up my finished tattoo, working carefully, but quickly so we can continue where he left off. After covering it properly and removing his gloves, he slides over to me on his rolling stool and removes my leggings entirely. Spreading my legs and exposing my soaking wet pussy to his eyes alone, Nicholas licks his lips and whistles. “Really, We’re doing this here?” Not that I minded. I just wanted to hear him tell me how badly he wanted me. He looks up at me and grins while grabbing his phone and after a few seconds of waiting, our song begins to play over the bluetooth speaker.

My heart stops beating and the feeling that swallows me up is indescribable. “Nick,” I whisper as “Lovesong” by the Cure plays, filling the room with a haunting aurora. “Relax my love. Embrace the feeling,” he says convincingly, rising to his feet and pulling me down until my ass is partially off the chair. He sinks to his knees as I grip the sides of the chair in anticipation of what’s about to happen. When his tongue licks up in between my folds a loud, unintentional cry escapes me, and as he begins to work up my pussy, I embrace the feeling rushing through me like he told me to and refuse to hold back any sound or word that wants to escape.

“Shit baby, fuck,” I moan, feeling Nick’s tongue plunge deep inside my opening. Between the lyrics being belted out by Robert Smith and the way Nick is fucking me with his mouth, my arousal is climbing quickly to its tipping point. “Y/N, I fucking love you so much, you know that, right?” I look down at Nick and the way he’s staring at me, mouth glistening with a mixture of my juices and his spit have me all kinds of crazy. But I nod, too out of breath to say anything. He smiles while running his finger through my slit and I hear him moan the second he dives back into me, eating and devouring everything he wants. “You’re mine to touch,” I hear him say in between the cries for more that spill out of me. “No one else's.” He slides two fingers at a time inside me, causing me to thrust into the feeling of them sliding between my walls as his tongue continues its electrifying assault. The sounds he’s making are edging me closer.

“Fuck, Nick, I want you, please. I want you on me, in me,” I pant, moaning when his fingers start pumping faster. I grind harder against them, pushing them knuckle deep and coating them with the wetness that only Nick can create in me. “That’s it, love, push that sweet pussy hard against my fingers. Soak my fingers and let me see those juices drip down my wrist just for me.” My thighs are shaking. Nick notices and takes a moment to stop and plant sweet kisses inside of them, biting tenderly at the warm flesh. I can’t hold back my moans. I don’t care if the whole street can hear me. The way Nick is making me feel is worth it. “God, Y/N the way you cry for me is so beautiful. I wanna hear more of it.” His mouth finds my entrance again, and this time he doesn’t hold back. “I want to make you cum for me baby.” I can’t deny the heat spreading under my skin or the fire in my abdomen that I feel. I know I’m close. “Nicky, fuck baby I’m almost there. Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I beg him, reaching for the back of his head. My fingers find his hair and I tangle them in his messy bun, pushing his face against my cunt and locking his head in place with my thighs. His one hand locks around my calf and squeezes hard while the other one is pumping in and out of me at a merciless rhythm. With my heart racing and my muscles tightening, I grip Nick’s hair and start to moan louder, begging him not to stop as my arousal comes crashing into me, finishing me off on such a high that tears slip from the corners of my eyes and down to my ears. I’m breathless and my head is slightly spinning when Nick stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can’t hold back any longer,” he confesses, undoing his belt and letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor. “I want you… here…right now,” pulling me down a little more and lining his swollen cock with my sex.

“Seeing you between my legs is so fucking hot.” Nicholas raises his eyes to me and grins big, and then without warning, slams himself into me like a savage dog. His lips part, exposing his teeth making the feeling of the ridges on his cock buried deep in me more intoxicating than before. I urge him on, panting and moaning his name along with words barely audible, watching the euphoric expression on his face take over. He throws his head back, holding my legs wrapped tightly around him and continues to pound into me, taking from me everything that makes him feel like a man. “That’s it my love, say my name as I fuck your tight little pussy that holds me just right.” He looks down then lays into me, kissing my lips with so much hunger I almost can’t breathe. Gripping his shoulders, I squeeze, digging my nails into the flesh covered by his black “My Chemical Romance” shirt. “Nicky,” I moan, unable to finish my thought. He picks up his pace, thrusting into me at a frantic pace. My walls are fluttering around his cock as shockwaves grip my body. “Y/N, fuck baby you’ve got me almost there. Keep moaning for me, keep crying,” he growls, throwing his thumb over my clit and circling it as quickly as he can. I cry louder for him as my own climax explodes all around me and it proves to be enough for Nicholas as he quickly shoves the front of my shirt up, pulls out of me and releases his cum all over my stomach, shuttering and moaning out the rest of his orgasm. “Holy fuck, Y/N,” he nervously laughs. He milks himself one last time before placing a quick kiss on my lips and backs away to pull his pants back up. I lay there feeling utterly spent and out of breath, but feeling completely satisfied. Nick comes over with a towel, wiping up his mess and cleaning me off. Apparently, he put “Lovesong” on repeat because it starts over for a third time. But this time we sit across from each other and listen to the words together.

As we clean up and get ready to go home, we talk about how we’re adding tonight to the box of secret memories that include all the hot and heavy make out sessions in the book store where I work.

It’s a favorite place of ours. On weekends when I’m not working we get expensive coffee, dive into gothic authors like Poe and Walpole, and listen to The Cure on Nick's old Discman while sharing earbuds. I nestle in close to him with his arm around me and we share a book that I always let him pick out. It makes him happy and that’s all I want; to see Nicholas happy.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

We intended to spend the rest of our lives together and add more secrets to our box. But soon after Nicholas left with his band for a two month tour things started changing for me. My dad got really sick. So sick that we had to move hours away to be closer to the hospitals that were trying everything to save him. I didn't have a choice in anything that happened and it didn’t seem fair. Nick and I tried all we could to make the long distance and work schedules work, but with his constant touring, the outbreak, and my dad's sickness getting worse, life suddenly came crashing down all around us. It left us both broken, hurting in ways we never thought were possible for us. It ended us. I was the one who chose to walk away first because it was too painful to continue digging into wounds that were trying to heal. Everytime Nicholas left for a tour or to fly out to California, he took a piece of me with him, until eventually, I didn’t even recognize who I was anymore. I was done feeling that way. Our box of secrets eventually got buried, and possibly forgotten about at least for Nicholas. That’s what I always told myself on the days where I longed and ached for him. It was the easiest way to deal with it. If he didn’t care then why should I?

Eventually the pain passed and eventually the hurt faded, but I never got over Nick and the fact that I was the one that ultimately ended us. I carried that guilt with me everywhere. Especially with the success of his band. Bad Omens was everywhere and it seemed like no matter where I went I saw all four of their sweet faces or heard Noah’s incredible vocals that I knew he busted his ass to accomplish. He certainly wasn’t the boy in Folio’s garage screaming his head off anymore.

They had made it and they were living everything they talked about living and wanting during all those late nights I would spend with them in Nick's basement, all of them high or wasted. I was proud to have been there from the very beginning, watching them grow and conquer shit as a band and as individuals. But I was heartbroken to not be there now and often wondered, many times, if any of them still thought about me, especially Nicholas. The words tattooed on my skin with the memory of what happened after were a constant reminder of my stupidity. But I chose to pick up the broken pieces of life anyway and carry on living despite the pain. I had to fight even if it hurt.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“However far away, I will always love you

However long I stay, I will always love you

Whatever words I say, I will always love you

I will always love you”

I moved back a few months ago. With Dad’s death and Mom refusing to leave where his last moments with us were, I decided it was time for me to spread my wings a little. I missed my old home, the town, and the memories, and since it wasn’t too far from Mom, I signed a two year lease on an apartment right down from the old bookstore where I used to work. It closed about a year and a half after I left when the owners passed away. One died right after the other, possibly from a broken heart. The idea that one couldn't live without the other was beautiful, sort of like an “Annabell Lee” kind of thing. I could still hear Nick’s quiet voice when he told me how beautifully morbid my mind was after telling him it was my favorite poem of Poe's. I saw a different look in his eyes that day; the dark green hoodie he was wrapped in bringing out the soft green in his narrow orbs. The way they stared at me felt as if he might’ve been thinking about forever. Maybe he was. Needless to say that afternoon was another memory for our box of secrets.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Our fingers tangle, weaving in and out of each other’s as I sit between Nicholas’s legs, my head against his chest. There’s a soft silence between us once I finish the poem and gently close the book, laying it down next to me. The only thing we can hear from our small cozy nook tucked away in the back of the bookstore is the soft shuffling of a customer’s feet or the ringing of the doorbell indicating movement coming in or going out.

Nick places a gentle kiss on the side of my head. “Your mind is morbid, Y/N, but beautiful,” he states, stroking my hair away from my forehead and releasing a light chuckle. I lay my arms to rest on each of his legs that are covered by his favorite pair of black jeans; the ones with the holes in them. They’re my favorite too because they give me access to places only I’m allowed to touch. Massaging his thighs, I slide two fingers through the holes, feeling the warm flesh buried beneath them and I hear a subtle groan slip through his lips. It makes my toes tingle. “I know, I can’t help it. But I think it might be a reason you like me so much,” I say, smiling as I feel his thigh muscles flex then relax and he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “It’s not the only reason I like you so much,” he muses. Nicholas lays his hands over mine as I continue to rub his legs, craving to feel more than just the little spot beneath my fingers. He leans down and runs his moist lips up my neck, leaving traces of small kisses as he goes. I clench between my legs as my core tingles with the familiar feeling I get everytime I’m close to Nick like this. I know he’s trying to work me up just as much as I am him. I close my thighs and the cool wetness of my arousal that soaks my panties rubs against my skin. I moisten my lips and whimper, shifting and purposely pushing hard against Nick's swollen cock. “Shit,” he mumbles, sucking in a light breath through his teeth

I knew where this was going, and as long as we were quiet, we'd get away with it. I remove my fingers from the holes and move them further up his slim legs, closer to where his hardness is pushed against my back. He twitches against me, causing me to giggle and wiggle against him some more. Nick’s breath hitches in his throat. “Two can play this game you know,” he croons, acknowledging my actions while taking a bit of my ear between his teeth and sucking it as I softly cry out. His hands snake around me and one finds the bottom of my throat; thumb and finger finding the perfect points to quiet me as the rest wrap around the sides, restricting my airwaves. The other one trails over my thigh and dives right into my warm center, gripping it, rubbing it, and shamelessly slides two of its fingers knuckle deep inside me. I want to moan, but Nick tightens his grip on my throat. “Shhhhhh…. You need to be a good girl and stay quiet. If you do, maybe I’ll let you cum on my dick instead of my fingers,” he whispers. My chest rises and falls quickly from the overstimulation of Nick’s fingers that are slowly and mercilessly moving in and out of my wet cunt that’s been hungry for him all day. My choked moans only encourage him to go faster, creating that coiling feeling all over my sensitive bundle of nerves. “Nick, I wanna cum so badly,” I whine weakly as the heart spreads under my skin. But the only thing I hear in return is the panting sounds coming from behind me.

Nick is totally getting off on what he’s doing to me and the thought alone makes me clench around his fingers. My arousal is at its peak and Nick has managed to build my pleasure up in such a way that I’m about to set a record and cum for him after only a few minutes of his foreplay. But just as the heat begins to pool in my lower back and abdomen, telling me I’m about to, he stops, pulling his fingers out of me, leaving me empty and whimpering for his touch. His grip on my throat loosens and I relax against him. “Fuck, Nick,” I hiss, my body limp in his arms. I hear him chuckle and feel the deep vibration in his chest. “I told you if you were good I’d let you cum on my dick, so get up here,” he insists, lifting me up. Excitedly, I sit up, turning around to face him. The hard bulge between his legs shows me just how well I can satisfy him and I can’t resist the temptation to run the palm of my hand over it applying the right amount of pressure. Nick releases a pleasurable groan and lays his head back against the wall.

“You sound like you’re hungry for something, my love,” I whisper through a quaky breath. I can feel those pangs of excitement inside my walls again that are craving Nicholas and everything he can offer me. From the sweet and fun sex, down to the rough and dirty, he knew my body like he knew the chords to his music and he knew what to do and how to work it to his benefit.

“I’m starving for you to slip me inside you. He is hungry, baby.” he admits, rubbing his crotch, trying to find some release from the friction. The desperation in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed and I suddenly want to give him everything he wants. Brushing the hair out of his eye, I look into his soft eyes and straddle him and start to rub my aching sex against his cock. His hands find my hips, pushing me further into him.

“God bless woman, if this is what reading a little bit of Poe does to you, then I wanna read his complete works and fuck you until you’re screaming my name.” Nicholas grips my bottom and pushes me harder against him until I can feel the discomfort penetrating the tender flesh of my clit and making me whimper some more. “It wouldn’t take long, that’s for sure,” I admit, wrapping my arms around his neck. I raise myself up, shoving my breasts closer to his face, and he nuzzles in between them with his nose. Without a word he lifts my shirt and pulls the cup of my bra down, releasing my nipple to the coolness surrounding us. His teeth quickly latch on, nipping and sucking it, making it harder than before, and eventually takes the whole breast in his mouth. I moan and grind on him, praying he doesn’t stop anytime soon. “Fuck me, right now, Y/N,” the tone in his voice filled with desperate urgency. Nick doesn’t have to repeat himself. I climb off him and undo his pants and help him slide them off and in one quick tug he has mine off. “Wait,” he says before I climb back on top of him. I look down to see a sly look covering his face. “Hand’s on the wall,” he orders, taking my legs and pulling me closer to his face. I grin, licking my lips and closing my eyes as I do as I’m told. I know what I’m about to feel is going to take me over the edge and I hope I can remain quiet.

“Your pussy is a work of art, Y/N,” Nicholas praises, sliding a finger through my wetness. I suck in a huge breath and bite my lip to stay quiet. “Look how wet you are for me baby. So needy, ready for my cock to disappear into your body and stretch you, ripping you apart until you’re shaking and spilling your juices all over my dick. Fuck, love.” Nick’s words have my legs trembling and it takes all my effort to keep myself up. I quietly moan, throwing my hand over my mouth and biting the inside of my finger to keep from crying out in desperate need for him. “Nick,” I moan against my hand. He slips a finger in me, prodding me, then slides his tongue over my lips, licking up and moistening my pussy with his spit. “Nick, fucking dammit, I can’t,” “Fuck me, Y/N,” he demands, knocking my legs until I collapse in his arms. I grip his cock and bring it to my entrance, sinking down on it until it completely disappears inside me. The pressure fills me, and the fullness of him claiming me is making me desperate to feel more. “Oh my god,” Nick cries into my neck, grabbing my hips to push and pull me against him. “You like claiming what’s yours, baby,” I ask, pulling up off him until just the tip of his cock is touching my walls. I circle it for a moment before sinking back down on him, watching his expression fade into pure erotic ecstasy. “You know I do,” he answers, breathlessly. Nicholas groans deep in his throat, tightening his grip on my hips until I’m sure he’s leaving bruises. My hands grab his neck as I begin to grind and rock against him, slowly and sweetly at first, but picking up the pace as the climax in both of us continues to grow. “Oh god baby, that’s it. Ride me Y/N. Grind on me until we find that spot that’s going to make you cum for me.” The warmth that’s created by the two of us starts to make us sweat and I cling to Nick as if my life depends on it. I’m in love with him, intoxicated by everything about him.

“You're so beautiful, love,” Nick gushes. I smile and lower my lips to his, hiding a thousand words of love for him, hoping he’ll taste them one by one. “If the universe took you from me I wouldn’t rest until I found you again,” Nicholas whispers in my ear as his teeth graze the outer lobe. I pick up the pace of riding him gently while his lips find the soft flesh of my breasts. He wraps his tongue around them and takes the nipples between his teeth, nipping them gently enough to get the rise out of me he’s looking for. I seethe, bringing my hands to the back of his head to keep him there as I push my overstimulated, soaking wet pussy further onto his throbbing cock; the deep ridges and crevices massage my inner walls as I continuously move back and forth at a faster pace.

“I think the angels aren’t happy when they look at us,” Nick says, gripping my hair and tugging it back just so he can kiss my neck the way he wants to. He lingers on one spot a little too long, leaving behind his mark of ownership that leaves me beaming with pride.

I'm too overwhelmed with what's happening between my legs to think about anything else except how good Nick is making me feel and how it's getting harder to suppress the cries dying to escape. I bite my bottom lip and fall into his shoulder. “They don’t get to feel you cum like I do.” He pushes in harder, pushes deeper, hitting that spot that he knows is his alone. “Nick, you’re ma…” I can't finish my thought as a deep cry fills the back of my throat. My body is on fire. The familiar heat is pooling in my lower abdomen and I can feel my climax coming quickly. “I’m what baby,” he purrs, reaching his hand down and using his thumb to apply the right amount of pressure on my clit as he circles it. I moan a little too loudly, earning Nick’s hand over my mouth. “You want to cum for me?” he growls, clenching his jaw and tightening his grip on my waist. I nod quickly as a single tear slips down my cheek. Nick removes his hand from my mouth and replaces it with his mouth, his tongue slipping inside mine and claiming every part of it his. “Then cum for me, Y/N. Tell me I’m the only one who has your soul. Not the angels, not the demons; only me.” And I did. I cum so hard on Nicholas leaving ungodly marks on his shoulders that I’m left in tears. Nick kisses the side of my head as I relax into him, breathing heavily as he rests his hands on my back and drags his fingers up and down my skin.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

I wiped the tears that had unknowingly fallen. Those memories of Nicholas were so beautiful to me, yet were the death of me each time I brought them out of their box. I missed him; my soul was slowly dying for him.

The windows of the old bookstore were boarded up but not the front door. The bell that rang out each time someone walked in or out was still on the front, rusted and out of use. Inside was dark and I could vaguely see dust covering bookshelves that had been left behind just like the memories of Nick. I looked down at my arm, running a finger over the words that were slowly starting to dull, and smiled at the thoughts. Wiping my face, I continued my walk home, pulling my phone out the moment it vibrated. I stopped, frozen in time. There was a text message… from Noah. My hands started shaking and my heart started racing. At first I thought about just deleting it without reading it, but then I realized that wouldn’t be fair to Noah. He didn’t do anything. So I opened the message, never prepared for what I was about to read.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s Noah. I know it’s been like forever since we’ve talked, but I came across your number, at least I hope it's still your number, and thought I would reach out to you and see how things have been. We're planning a trip home to visit some friends and family and it made me think of you. (Yes, some of us still consider you family). Did you ever move back once your dad got better or are you still living at the new place? I hope he’s better too by the way. You’ve been on my mind so much lately. I don’t know why. Maybe it's because Nicholas brought you up for the first time in so long when he played some chords to a Cure song. He seemed to have gone somewhere else while playing it. I think he might’ve been thinking about you. He smiled when he was done, and I swear I saw tears, but then got up and left the room before any of us could ask if he was okay. Anyway, I really hope this is still your number, but if not, well at least I tried. If it is, I hope you'll text me back soon, please 🙏.

-Noah

“This is a horrible stupid idea,” I sighed, mentally screaming at myself for choosing to do this. After hours of debating and overthinking I replied to Noah's text. He kept his word and texted me a week later when they arrived, giving me the address to the air bnb they were staying.

So here I was slowly driving down a street I didn’t know, searching for a house that was bigger and prettier than anything I’ve ever been in, and praying I didn’t throw up.

“Holy shit,” I cried, stopping in front of a white three story country style house surrounded by some large oak trees and a massive porch that wrapped around most of the house. It was beautiful.

There were other vehicles in the driveway so parking there was out of the question. I took it as a sign I should turn around and leave and was about to when my phone vibrated.

“Park anywhere”

-Noah

“Shit,” I huffed. Wait. Was Noah spying on me? I narrowed my eyes and stared out my windshield, looking for any sign of him and stopping when they rested on his tall lean figure waving at me from a window on the top floor of the house.

“What the fuck, Sebastian, seriously,” grumbling as I parked the car by the curb. I sat with the engine still running, rubbing my temples in hopes to levitate the pounding headache I had due to stress and my tightly clenched jaw since leaving my house. Coming here was a really bad mistake and I was about to throw the car into drive and leave when a knock on my window startled me, causing me to jump. I looked up and saw Noah, smiling down at me with that same beautiful smile of his. It was contagious. I smiled back and took a deep breath as Noah opened the car door for me. I stood before him, taking in how much he’s changed in four years. “Your hair,” I breathed, surprised at how good short hair really did look good on him. “Yeah, look!” He lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I have a neck; who knew!” Noah’s eyes widened and he chuckled at his own joke, making me huff a small laugh, grinning.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you really came. Come here, give me a hug,” he sang, holding his long arms out to me. I willingly fell into him and wrapped my arms around his waist, taking a deep breath once I laid my head on his chest. “I’ve fucking miss you, Y/N,” he confessed, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Life’s been crazy and so many things have changed, but you’ve never left my heart. I’m so sorry I never stayed in touch like I should have.” “No, don’t do that, Noah. It’s not your fault; it never was. It was never anyone's. Only mine. I made the choice to leave.” Noah pulled me back and looked at me, confused. “What do you mean it was your choice? Nick said he was the one who ended things.” I didn’t have time to respond when a familiar voice from the past came ringing out behind us, swallowing me up in a clenching grip.

My spine tingled, hell my whole body tingled as my heart began to race. My once calm nerves were now making my hands shake and the tears I promised myself I wouldn’t show started to seep from my eyes as I clenched my teeth, trying to muffle my cry. “Noah, what are you doing? Who are you talking to?” Nicholas’s voice was like rain in a dry desert; the desert being my heart. It quenched every part, bringing every buried memory and feeling back to life again. “You didn’t tell him I was coming?” asking Noah softly. He looked from Nick to me, shaking his head. “Shit,” Noah cursed. “What?” I looked up and turned around, running straight into Nicholas’s chest. “Y/N?” He took my arms, holding me away from him. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him, afraid that if I did I would shatter into a million pieces. “What the hell, Noah, why is Y/N here?” The tone in Nick’s voice made me think he was upset that I had shown up. I cursed myself for coming, for believing that enough time had passed between us. My breathing became erratic and I felt like I might pass out. “Y/N, hey are you good? You okay?” Slowly I shook my head. And then I broke. Like a dam backed up for centuries, the tears and all the pain I’d held in for years came rushing out, causing my knees to grow weak and making them buckle. Nick caught me just in time, slipping his arms underneath mine and pulling me into his chest. He smelled just as good as I remembered, but with more cologne and whatever it was drove my senses wild. I continued to cry and Nick continued to hold me, one arm tightly closed around me and the other caressing the back of my head.

“Shhhh, love it’s alright. It’s okay.” Hearing my pet name fall from his lips and the sound of his voice as soothing as before brought to me peace. “Noah, do you want to explain this?” I felt the deep rumble of Nick’s voice against my cheek as it laid against his chest. “No, not really. I think I’m just gonna go back inside. Bring her in when she’s ready, okay. I’ll explain then.” Just like that I found myself alone with the ghost of my past, only it wasn’t really a ghost at all. This time it was the real thing.

“I don’t understand. What are you doing here, Y/N? How did you know we were here?” Nick didn’t let me go, but continued holding, making me feel the safest I’ve felt since the last time he held me. “I don’t either, Nick. I don’t know what I’m doing here.” I began to briefly explain everything that happened after Noah first reached out to me, never once looking at his face. If I did I would fall apart again.

“So you being here is all Noah's doing?” “Yeah, pretty much.” We were both silent as we stood there in the street holding each other. For a moment it felt like old times. “Hey.” Nick spoke softly, raising my head with a finger under my chin. I closed my eyes, refusing to look at him. “Do you hate me so much that you can’t even look at me?” “I don’t hate you Nick!” I shrieked, flinging my eyes open only to be met by his intensely heavy green orbs. “God, Nick,” I breathed, taking in his appearance, noticing all the little changes of maturity that graced his once younger face. “Four years looks incredible on you.” Nick’s eyes twinkled as they darted between mine. “I could say the same about you. You’re still just as beautiful as the last time I saw you.” His face instantly fell at the mention of that day. I quickly wiggled out of his grasp and took a step back, clearing my throat. Nick continued to gaze at me, but I could no longer keep eye contact. “I try not to think about that day,” I lied, crossing my arms. “Funny,” he said, coming closer to me. “That's all I can think about.” My eyes darted to his. “What?” “You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” Nick scoffed. “I don’t care if you do or don’t. It doesn’t change that it’s the truth.”

My brows drew together, wondering how his confession could be true. “How come you didn’t stop me then? Why didn’t you come for me?” “Would it have changed your mind if I did?” He reached over and touched my face, dragging his calloused fingertips down my cheek. I briefly closed my eyes and took a deep breath, opening them as soon as I released it. “Y/N, your mind was made up; you made your choice and I wasn't it. What was I supposed to do?” Even then I could see how badly I’d hurt Nicholas. As soft and sweet as he was, he had somehow managed to harden himself to the cruelness of my choices. But that still didn’t change how the thought of him not fighting for me, for us, cut me like a thousand papercuts. “You could’ve at least tried Nick. My mind wasn’t in the best place then. I wasn’t capable of making the right choice, but I felt like I was forced to otherwise,”. I stopped, realizing Nick wasn’t following what I was trying to say. “Otherwise what?” “You know what, never mind. Just forget it.” I dropped my arms to my sides and walked to my car, about to open the driver's door. Nick’s large hand came down on the corner of the door, baring it from opening.

“I’ve never been very good at letting go, Y/N. I didn’t want to let you go. But the moment you came to me with that frightened, confused look in your eyes, I knew you were already gone. You’d already made your mind up about what was best for you and no matter what I said, it felt like you were looking for an excuse to leave. So, I let you.” Nick pressed his body against the back of mine, pinning me between him and the car. I wanted nothing more than to turn around, pull him into me, and kiss him like I was dying and he was the only thing keeping me alive. “I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it. You were my everything, Y/N; you promised to stay with me forever.” Tears were pouring down my cheeks and my shoulders shook as I wept. Nick laid his hands on them squeezing them slightly. “Everyday after you were in my head when you weren't supposed to be, haunting me, reminding me of everything I lost. And the worst part about all of it was I still loved you; I still fucking love you. I still fucking want you like nothing else and I hate myself for it. My life felt empty without you in it, but eventually I had to get used to it.”

I turned around, my lips almost meeting with Nick’s. I wanted him to kiss me in the worst way. I wanted him to grab me and ravage me like a starving animal. “I want to fucking kiss you so badly,” he confessed, as if reading my mind. He placed both hands on the car on either side of my head, leaning in until his lower body was pressed against me. There was no way out of this. I was cornered. “I wanna be inside you again, the only place where I felt love.” I groaned through tears and laid my head back against the car. Nicholas lowered his lips closer to my neck, running his nose along my skin. “I would’ve given anything to taste you again, Y/N, to feel your walls clench around my dick and the way your nails ran over my skin.” I could feel his hardness against my leg and I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. “But I couldn’t find you. You walked away and never looked back.” Nick backed up, tapping his fingers on the roof of the car. He stared at me. I saw all the different emotions running through him like the colors of the rainbow, confusing him in the worst way. “I’m so sorry Nick. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just trying to make it hurt less; for both of us.” “Yeah, well you did a pretty bang up job of it. You lied to me. It was so bad I began to wonder if you were lying to me all along since it was so easy for you to give up on us the way you did.”

His words stabbed me in the heart. “Look, I screwed up alright! I know I did.” I shoved Nick away, no longer able to deal with the hurt, the painful reminder of how I destroyed our love. “But I never once lied to you. I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit, Nick, but loving you was different. Loving you made me a better person. You made me a better person.” “Then why the fuck did you give up on us, Y/N! Why were you so quick to throw us away when the first storm hit?” “Because I was fucking scared, Nick! My dad was dying and my entire world was starting to fall apart. I thought that telling you we were over would’ve made walking away easier, but it didn’t. After I left I had hoped you would come for me, that you would fight for me and convince me that we were stronger than the storm, but you didn’t, Nick. You let me walk away and knowing that made me think you didn’t care as much as you said you did. So maybe you were the one lying.” Nick stood there wide-eyed and tense. He didn’t blink, allowing the tears to pool at the bottom of his eyes. “I had to finally come to accept the fact that you didn’t think we were worth fighting for which made these words hurt all the more,” raising my arm to show him the tattoo he marked me with all those years ago. Nick swallowed and finally blinked, letting the tears fall, but quickly brushed them away. He reached out and took my arm, running his thumb over the words.

“However far away, I will always love you, however long I stay, I will always love you, Whatever words I say, I will always love you,” he read softly. “Yeah,” he hummed. “I guess we both lied then.” The ice in his tone was enough for me to know the truth. Our love was completely dead. Without looking at me again, Nick turned around and walked back towards the house. I could only stand there in shock, wondering what to do next. It was like I couldn’t breathe, the air around me suddenly too heavy for my lungs. “I didn’t mean to ruin your life Nick. I know I made a mistake and I own up to it, but so did you. You fucked it all up just as much as I did. When are you going to accept your part in letting us die? When are you going to admit you were wrong and take some of the blame off my shoulders?” Nick stopped and listened to what I was saying, but then as he continued walking towards the house my heart fell to the bottom of my stomach. I got in my car and left, stopping at the liquor store and buying the biggest bottle of rum they had.

“Whatever words I say, I will always love. I will always love you.”

The next few days were hard. Feeling like I’d been injected with Novocain, a numbing feeling followed me everywhere I went and I felt comatose, never wanting to wake up and face reality again. The butterflies that had once fluttered and made me feel so in love had died, making the shattering of my heart breaking the loudest quiet ever.

I took a few days off from work, stayed home and did my best to get life together, but it didn’t go over so well at first. But after three straight days of screaming and crying, waking up still drunk, and passing out over the toilet, I managed to wake up sober, take a shower, and clean my apartment. I was on the road to recovery.

I taped over the words on my arm, hiding the constant reminder of pain I no longer wanted to deal with. Instead of trying to face it anymore, I ran from it, burying it so deeply down inside me and forcing myself to feel indifferent about it. But those words were the last and only thing I had left of Nicholas and no matter how badly they hurt, they needed to stay. I deserved the punishment.

Five days after my encounter with Nick, I sat down in my living room with my Chinese takeout and a handful of things to watch on Netflix. I chose quickly and snuggled into my blanket with great anticipation over the first bite of food. But before I could take that bite, the buzzer for the outside intercom rang, informing me that someone was looking for me.

“Who the heck can that be,” mumbling to myself as I got up off the couch, adjusting my sleepy shorts as I made my way over to the intercom. Completely irritated, I pressed the button. “Hello, can I help you?”... … … … “Hello?”.... … … … “Okay, look, if this is a joke,” “Y/N?” I gasped, throwing my hand over my mouth. “Nick?”.... I did my best to mask the surprised cry in my voice before pressing the button. “Nick, are you still there?”.... …. “Yeah,” he answered, his voice cracking. “Y/N, can I come up?” “Yeah, Yes! Absolutely, I’ll buzz you in.” I hit the button instantly, jumping over to the closest mirror to check my appearance. I looked fucking horrible, but I didn’t have any time to fix my face before there was a soft knock on the apartment door. I wasn’t prepared for this. I wasn’t ready to face Nick again. But I didn’t have a choice. Nervously, I undid the locked bolt and opened the door, but when my eyes fell upon Nicholas, all of that nervousness faded.

“Holy shit you look beautiful,” Nick exclaimed, a different tone than days before. The expression on his face was sincere, making my heart flutter, but I’d never felt more uncomfortable as I did standing there in my sleepy shorts, and a rough looking complexion. “You’re crazy,” admonishing him while resting my cheek on the side of the door. “Can I come in?” His green eyes twinkled at me “Gosh, yeah, sorry,” I apologized, backing up to let him in. I caught the scent of his cologne as he walked by, and it hit my senses like a brick, making my heart beat even faster. “This is a really nice apartment. How long have you been here?” I closed the door, locking it behind me. “Um, about seven months, I think. I moved back about a year after my dad passed.” I crossed my arms over my chest, lowering my eyes away from Nick’s. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” Nick admitted, sympathetically. “Don’t be,” I assured him, shaking my head a little. “How could you?” “I don’t know,” he shrugged, giving me a lopsided grin. “It’s fine Nick, really. He went peacefully. That’s all that matters.” “Still, I should’ve been there.” There was deep regret in his voice. “How did you find out where I live?” I asked, drawing my brows together, narrowing my eyes. “Oh, Noah said you told him. ”Did I? If I did I didn’t remember. Nick looked around the apartment, eyes wandering over everything, but quickly stopped on something familiar on the wall nearest my bedroom.

Carefully making his way over, he stood before some pictures, eyes fixed on the images before him. His mouth twitched and he gave a half-smile. “There are so many,” his voice quivered, showing off just how nervous he really was. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets with his arms locked tight against his sides. “Where did you find them all?” I stood beside him, staring at the wall of my “Annabelle Lee” picture collection. “Some I printed and made myself, others I found online,” answering him sweety. I bit my lip, too apprehensive to tell him about my favorite two. “Y/N, this is awesome. It reminds me of that night in,” turning his head to face me only to find me already staring at him. We were transfixed instantly, staring at each other with the same longing and hunger as that day in the bookstore. He moved a little closer to me, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth.

I clenched my jaw, trying to suppress the sexual tension that was quickly rising inside me. My body knew exactly how to respond to what my eyes were seeing Nick do, as that all too familiar arousal flooded my core and sent all the tingles to my toes. I crinkle my nose, earning a dark chuckle from Nick. I knew then that he knew exactly what he was doing. “Those are my favorite,” I blurted out, trying to distract him from the tension building between us. His eyes quickly shifted elsewhere as he turned to look at where I was pointing, narrowing his eyes to get a better look. “Are those,” he asked, suddenly roused for a different reason, pointing to the frames. I nodded, breathing nervously. “I bought the book before I left. I thought that maybe if I I had it, it would feel like I had some of you with me, and I wanted as much of that feeling as I could get. I still want that feeling.” The last part came out mumbled, and I hoped Nick didn’t hear it as I played nervously with my fingers, too scared to look up at him. After a long silence, Nick cleared his throat. “I know you hated me, Y/N, and I don’t blame you. I had to keep leaving when you needed me to be there to support you, love you through all that was happening with your dad. But it was all out of my hands. I was being pulled in two different directions, and I didn’t know what to do or how to handle it, so I did the best thing I knew how to do; close up and shut down. It wasn’t right; I know that. It wasn’t fair to you.”

I started to cry, feeling dreadfully guilty, and dropped my head in my hands and quietly sobbed until my hands were completely wet. “I didn’t hate you, Nick. I don’t hate you. I love you so freaking much. But loving you was slowly killing me. I did what I had to do to survive and that was to say goodbye even though I didn’t want to,” my voice faded as I finally looked at him. His expression was grave, the past eating away at his mind no doubt. “I never wanted to walk away from you Nick. I never wanted to give us up. Every night and day I was forced to fight my battles without you, pretending I was strong when I was really falling apart. Trying to explain to you what was happening became difficult because what I was going through couldn’t be seen, only felt. All I wanted was your arms. All I wanted was to see you to know that everything was going to be okay. But I couldn’t have that. And then the fucking pandemic hit and, well.” I took a breath, in hopes to calm myself. It felt so good to get it all off my chest, but at the same time I knew I was hurting Nicholas by throwing too much at him. It was evident on his face.

I took a risk and reached out for his hand, sighing with relief when he took it and entangled his fingers with mine. “I took the easy way out, Nick, I know that. We could have saved us if only I had fought harder. But you want to know the worst part about it all?” Our eyes locked together. Nick clenched down hard, trying his best to keep his emotions closed, but I could see it in his eyes that he was starting to break. “You never came after me, Nick. You never tried to stop me, to convince me I was making the wrong choice. And because you didn’t it was enough to convince me that I wasn’t worth fighting for. That’s what broke me.”

Nick squeezed his eyes closed, bringing his fingers up to dry them, while still clenching the other ones around mine. It was a death grip that I was so grateful for.

Nick kept my eyes as he moved in closer until he couldn't resist the madness building up around us anymore. He looked down at me, muttering “fuck it” under his breath while his eyes were are on my lips. He moved so quickly I couldn’t keep track of his actions as his hands closed around my waist, pulling me into him. The feeling of his thick hardness hot against my aching sex had me screaming inside for him to have his way with me, to do to me whatever he wanted as long as he knew I wanted him forever. And then he kissed me and it was the best kiss ever in my whole life. The way he pressed his hand to my shoulder blade to arch me into him, the way it started slowly, just his mouth on mine and his tongue begging for entrance. We stayed that way for a long time until I looped my arms around his neck. He shifted and shoved me up against the wall, leaning into me and pushing my thighs open to make space for himself until we were flush against each other. Soft whimpers fell from my lips as I absorbed Nicholas like a sponge, wanting absolutely ever part of him. His hard grunts and deep growls of satisfaction over the attention he was receiving was empowering and told me he wanted what was happening just as much as I did.

My heart was beating like a drum against his chest at the feeling of his hand trailing up the skin of my thigh and under the cotton of my sleepy shorts. They gave him the perfect advantage to claim what had been waiting for him the past few years. I moaned, grabbing his wrist before he went all the way. “What?” he asked breathlessly, eyes full of lust. I blinked a few times, making sure this was real, and relaxed the grip on his wrist. “I want what’s mine,” he demanded, voice deep and raspy. He kissed me again, slipping his hand behind my neck and pulling me in to get deeper. Arching my back, I thrusted my sex into the bulge between his legs, feeling the cold wetness of my juices soaking my panties. “I want to feel my fingers between your lips before I sink them so deep into your perfect little cunt that has always belonged to me and hear the way you sigh and let my name spill from your mouth.” Nick’s fingers skimmed my pussy, causing me to gasp and grab the front of his shirt between my clenched fists. His soft perfectly “v” shaped lips trailed up and down my neck as his tattooed touch between my folds made my knees weak and almost give out. “Oh, Nick, please,” I whined, pushing in on his shoulders. He pulled back, his eyes blazed with a fierce hunger. “Please what, Y/N? What do you want, love?”

Placing my hand over his, the one nearest my opening, I kept perfect eye contact with him as I guided his hand to where I desperately needed it to be. “This,” he affirmed, slipping two fingers at a time inside me. I sucked in a deep breath at the feeling, brazenly grinding down on him. “Fuck, Nick!” I cried out as he slowly pushed and pulled in and out of me. “That’s it baby girl, grind on my fingers. I can feel you, uh fuck yeah,” Nick encouraged me, burying his face in my neck. Picking up the pace, he held me tightly up against the wall, breaking apart every barrier I’d put up since the day I said good-bye to him. “Like that? Is that it? Is that the spot, love,” Nick urgently asked the louder I moaned the closer he got to my g-spot. I quickly nodded, furrowing my brows and bit my bottom lip, clasping my hand over his to feel the way he was fucking me with his fingers. “I’m addicted to the way you’ve always gotten wet for me, baby girl, the way I fill you and make you cum for me.” he praised me, pushing in harder and making me moan again. “Fucking hell, Nick,” I cried throwing my head back against the wall. “I want your cum on my fingers, love. I want it to drip down my hand.”

My cries grew louder the closer Nick brought me to my climax. I was a weakened mess for him. “Nick,” “Yeah, baby?” “I’m sorry I walked away. I’m sorry I said goodbye.” Tears seeped from my eyes. Nick slowed his pace inside me to wipe them away. “However far away, I will always love you, however long I stay, I will always love you, whatever words I say, I will always love you,” “I will always love you,” I echoed. He caressed my face and kissed me. “Nick, I need you inside me,” I whispered in his ear, feeling the deep rumble of his approval against my chest. Before I realized it, Nick had me in his arms, carrying me into my room and laying me on the bed. He undid the button on his jeans and unzipped, yanking them off and revealing his hardened cock, dripping with the silkiness of his pre-cum. I groaned in want as he slipped my shorts and panties off. Without a word, Nick spread my legs and positioned himself overtop me, and lined himself with my entrance. He rubbed his tip through the wetness of my folds, and slipped inside me, spreading me open for him. Pushing in and out sweetly but with the kind of aggression that always made me cry his name, I dug my nails into his tanned flesh, gripping his shoulders, holding him close. “Oh god, fucking, Y/N,” Nick groaned, instantly pounding into me at a brutal pace. “You’re still so fucking tight, love.” “There’s been nobody since you.”

He pushed himself up off my chest, looking down into my eyes for clarity. “What? Are you being serious?” I nodded slowly. “I didn’t want to forget your touch, the color in the feeling you always gave me. I wanted to hold on to it forever.” Nick groaned, lowering his forehead to mine. “And it’s okay if you didn’t do the same. I understand,” clarifying that I wasn’t angry. He began to move unhurried, taking his time to stretch open my inner walls and make as much room for him inside as he could. I sighed, moaning loudly at the feeling of having him inside me again. “I don’t fucking deserve you, Y/N,” Nick confessed, thrusting hard into me and grunting loudly. “Yes you do. We deserve each other. You’re the Poe to my Annebelle.” He gave me a wide smile before grabbing my leg and holding it against him, fucking into me in a new position that hit the very spot I’d been craving him to hit. “Right there Nick! Fuck! Don’t stop, baby!” “That’s it, right there? You’re gonna make me fucking cum if you keep screaming like that.” I made no attempt to mask my cries that quickly turned into slight shrills. “Fuck, love, keep crying for me baby girl, I’m almost there.” “Nick, I’m cum….,” I cried as my orgasim hit me like a tidal wave, exploding inside me and making me see stars. Nick shoved my shirt up to my throat before pulling out of me and spilling his seed all over my belly and between my breasts.

“Oh, holy shit,” Nick growled, milking himself until he knew he was empty, before rolling over onto his back. Finding my hand with his and entangling our fingers like he used to do, we laid there for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence. Eventually, Nick cleaned me up, wiping off his mess before scooping me up and tucking me in under the blankets. “You’re staying aren’t you,” I asked sleepily, eyes already closed. I felt the bed dip and Nick's warm body slid into mine. “I’m already here,” he whispered, taking me into his arms. “And I promise I won’t leave. Ever,” kissing my hair. “Me too, Nick. I will always love you.”

#nicholas ruffilo #nick ruffilo x reader #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fic #bad omens cult #bad omens

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lessdyke · 17 hours

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anon who asked about your ass being raped. Since you had it happen multiple times I think the most memorable one is a good starting place

i mean... obviously the first time was quite memorable. it's the one that fucked me up for life <3

my cousin was kind of a stalker when we were kids. hed always find ways to touch my breasts or steal a kiss or watch me undress etc etc but he was friends with my unhealthy stoner friends and we would hangout a lot. fast forward to this one party, yes? he says he'll drive me home after so I can just get as high as I want. when we're going back, he parks in the middle of nowhere and makes me suck his dick. for a long long while. he also pulled me out of the car and was about to rape me when some shit lot up in my head and i offered him my ass instead. he gets insanely horny at that (we were both virgins) but he comes right when he's starting to push his dick inside my anus and well I ended up convincing him to just go home already.

shit fucked me up if course. i would abuse alcohol and get high at all times. spent entire months without seeing him or hanging out with our common friends until one of them convinced me to go over to his house for a small gathering. cousin wasn't supposed to be there be he popped by when they told him I came by. i was drunker than ever in my life. he started groping me with everyone around, as if he was claiming that I was already his. at some point he's bragging about how he fucked my ass and that I offered it to him. no one believes him so he says he's going to demonstrate.

so there I am, about five male friends 'round me, none of them stopping my cousin when he bends me over on the floor and starts to put his fingers in my ass. i was v into some of those friends so when they all started collectively groping me it felt v v nice. got fingers in my mouth gagging me, my nipples twisted and pinched, my soaked labia parted and photographed... and then my cousin actually penetrates my ass. with everyone cheering him on, taking pictures, getting excited. he doesn't fuck me long, but he comes a lot in my ass. everyone wants to see what he's left inside me. I think I remember them saying someone wanted to be next, and that got my cousin a lil possessive so he started pounding my ass again so no one could do it.

i was wasted through it all. but. in the morning, I wake up sore and with faint memories of what they'd done to me all night. i still feel slightly soft and open back there. my cousin was sleeping next to me, and when he wakes up the first thing he does is start to finger my ass again, making fun of how easy I am and how slutty my ass is. this time, I consciously open my legs for him. i let him fuck my ass first thing in the morning, and I end up liking it. it isn't rape anymore. he doesn't come much, but he climbs up my body and asks me to lick it off his softening dick (he just pushed it into my mouth before I could even answer) and that makes him hard so he pounds me into the mattress one last time.

i don't go out neither with him or our friends again. i only ever see him during Xmas anymore, and now fortunately he's married so his focus is entirely somewhere else. but still. that is the guy who raped me in the ass as many times as he could through my adolescence. wish I didn't have to see him anymore.

#sorry it took long to answer #I didn't have much time to write all this xd #lgetsd #dykebreaking #breeding toy

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takes1 · 1 day

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For a request, would you be interested in a bully Dabi x male reader (maybe in a college AU or something. You can decide if you want it to be in the LOV instead)? Reader is constantly picked on and demeaned by him, but one day maybe in a private area reader is cornered, some suggestive content goes on/maybe noncon depending what you want to do, and the reader speaks up when the situation almost goes too far (and normally he is quiet. He’s that nerdy kid afraid to disappoint his parents/and a virgin. So he is scared of what was going on in that scenario.) After, you can decide what goes on from there!

Also to add, my bad about asking make characters. I did read the rules but had no idea what afab of amab means, should of looked it up before asking lol 😂

you're okay! no worries :) i really liked writing this, it's very different from my other stuff. i'm so sorry this has taken so long! will write a part 2 soon and probably end it there!

warnings. barely sfw, slight noncon themes, creepy vibes

details. male!reader / college au / frat au / inexperienced!reader / loser!reader / corruptionkink!dabi / loser!reader / degradation / praise / power play / slight noncon / yandere!dabi / 1.2k words

🤍 scenario series. more dabi and others here.

more links. my ao3 / dabi headcanons / requests open

"No, mom--,"

You almost tripped over your untied shoelace for the third time in the past two minutes but continued to ignore it. Stopping to fix it was scarier than getting a face full of dirty cement.

"No, it's-, okay, uppercase L, did you try the uppercase L yet?"

A rush of adrenaline plumped your veins for a fleeting moment and you gripped your cracked phone like a lifeline. The sound of shoes other than your beat-up Vans scraped across the sidewalk. You turned and there was nothing but the drip of residual rain from gutters, and some trash brushing by a garbage can.

Of course, a Mcdonald's wrapper would be responsible for your fatal heart attack. Or your mother, who didn't understand how to capitalize a letter on her keyboard to enter her bank password.

There was another half mile to your dorm building. When she called you halfway through your journey back from your last late class, you were relieved to have something else on your mind other than the threat of seeing a Brother around.

Pledge Week was Hell. Actual Hell. This must've been your divine punishment for being such a giant fucking loser your entire life-- a cruel joke from God designed to say, 'Look at this dumbass! He's paying hundreds of dollars to get hazed for a week, then ostracized for the smallest hope of feeling like he's a part of something!'

"It's the left side, mom. It says shift on it," You sighed.

This was the first week you hadn't commuted home for the weekend. With no social skills to bank on, there was nothing to do on the weekends except drive two hours home. At least you could be comfortable there. Not necessarily wanted, until they had a technology issue that required a Cybersecurity major -or just any person with brain cells- to fix, but you had your own quiet room.

It didn't change the fact that the Brothers of Alpha Sigma Phi betted on you to join them as a joke. You didn't have any connections or lineage like the other Pledges, but it was funny to pick the scrawny kid and see how long he'd last.

You didn't know how you lasted this long. It was a sort of tolerance that you built up, because Alpha Sig gave you something to do, somewhere to be.

A semester as a Pledge; running errands, attending parties but not allowed to drink, getting shit on at every turn because that was just the culture here and you thought, maybe after you graduate to become a Brother in a couple of days, you would have some real friends.

Another thudding sound of footsteps much heavier than yours. This time, they didn't stop, and neither did you.

The orange glow of streetlamps every 15 feet became markers for your sanity. Only nine more to go before you were at your building.

Your stomach was in your throat. The hand in your pocket clutched your knife.

"You got it?" Your voice was uneven but your mother didn't notice. You wished she would stay on the phone longer, but there was nothing else to talk about.

Even the other seven Pledges didn't associate with you. If they did, they got screwed with more. This week had become a sick kind of lonely, fast.

It was like clockwork. As soon as your phone left your ear, a voice much closer than you anticipated shocked your muscles still.

"Hey, Pledge," It was by far the worst Brother imaginable; the one who seemed to take personal pleasure in your torment above anyone else, "The fuck do ya think you're talkin' to?"

You kept your hand in your pocket. Pulling a knife on him would erase all progress, possibly even make this whole semester's worth of work useless, but you weren't about to surrender your only line of defense when you weren't sure if it would get violent.

Dabi was deceptively glittery under the streetlamp. His piercings gave you something else to look at to avoid eye contact.

"My mom--," You could barely get your words out.

"You're not supposed to speak to anyone this week," He lowered his voice and approached slow because he knew you wouldn't move.

Narrowed eyes watched another student on the other side of the deserted street.

Two years ago, Alpha Sig had been under an investigation for hazing (rightfully so, you could imagine), so the older Brothers were careful about what they said and did in public. In private, everything was still on the table.

So far, the worst thing you were forced to do was the bottling line. This was an activity where they made you and the other Pledges stand in a line to drink an entire bottle of various combined liquors. Each of you had to drink a fair amount, or the last man had to drink whatever was left. You were the last man.

This was already after a knowledge test about the fraternity. If a Pledge got a question wrong about the history of Alpha Sig, he was forced to drink.

Eventually, they made you drink whenever somebody else got a question wrong because you were answering everything correctly.

You had never thrown up so violently at the end of one night before. You weren't sure how you made it back to your dorm, but you woke up at 3 in the afternoon the next morning and didn't bother going to the rest of your classes.

"That includes calling your mommy," Dabi mocked, close enough to be in striking distance.

Every Pledge knew to stay far away from this crazy bastard. He was joked to be so masochistic that he was the one responsible for the investigation in the first place.

But he sought you out so much you had almost seen him every day this week. Enough to count every piercing on his face, wonder what each of his tattoos meant and why he had so many.

He took a glance down to your hand.

"Whaddya got a hard-on or something?"

You shot your hand out of your pocket, knife-less, defenseless, and embarrassed, sparking a smirk across his face.

Your dick was not hard right now, but it wasn't opposed to getting off at the thought of Dabi's big hands, among other things.

It was worth wondering if they could all tell. You weren't flamboyant, but you supposed that not being straight wasn't their only reason to shun you.

You wondered if they knew about Dabi's equality tattoo, a small but mighty symbol under his arm that you managed to get a glimpse of at one party after staring at him too long. He made you his personal servant many times for that problem throughout the semester.

It gave you the chance to pick up on things that weren't so traditional about him.

In truth, it only made your staring worse because you were certain he was more similar to you than anyone would care to think.

He closed the distance between you and sized you up while you put your hands behind your back. You couldn't believe you had forgotten to until now; that was what your class was supposed to do when a Brother called on them.

Dabi's breath was warm and minty on the side of your face when he muttered, "You're gonna show me your dorm, Pledge."

A big, strong hand shoved you hard. Back into the direction you had been walking. There was not much you could do now, other than shakily guide him back to the one place you felt safe.

taglist:

none. reply to be added for part 2!

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angeart · 17 hours

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hhau rescue rambles - part II

>> part I here // hhau masterpost here <<

The hermits are here to take Scar home but Grian is gone and Scar can’t leave without him, even if the others would promise to look for him. (They won’t find him, they won’t, they won’t. Scar knows how vast these forests are. He knows how many hiding spots there are tucked away if one knows where to look.) (They don’t know where to look.)

They’re not listening to him. He’s half-feral and panicked and desperate, barely making any sense. He keeps saying he needs to find Grian, but he looks half-crazed, clothes stained by a huge amount of blood and—

If it looks, a little bit, like he’s just in frenzied denial of some grief? That maybe something happened and Grian isn’t here anymore? The world is permadeath, after all. The rescue party isn’t sure what to think.

Of course they promise to look for Grian. Of course they’ll try. But first, let’s get you somewhere safe, Scar.

Scar panics and backs away and says he isn’t going anywhere until they find Grian. He’s so so afraid they’ll take him away and he’ll never find him. (He keeps imagining that wretched scream he heard that very first day he found Grian, a year ago. How close of a call that was.) (He thinks of finding him after the mimic incident, barely surviving. Wounded and bloodied and ready to collapse.) (He thinks of Grian sobbing as he begs Scar to never leave him again.)

He can’t leave him behind. He can’t.

He won’t.

He’s done everything he can up to this point and if this is his last fight? Then damn it, he’s going to go out swinging. He is going to find Grian. Even if he has to fight his saviours. (They’re enemies if they’re trying to separate him and Grian—)

He growls and lashes out and his vex magic comes through. The hermits are stunned and a little bit afraid and a whole lot confused. They’ve never seen him like this, hair white and claws ready to tear. (Cub, especially, is terrified of this development. Knowing that if Scar pushes himself too far in his vex form, he could die.)

They try to placate him, calm him down, reassure him. They try to get the damn teleportation bracelet on him. They keep telling him they can take him home, it’s okay, Scar, it’s okay.

It’s not okay.

He isn’t leaving without Grian, and he isn’t trusting anyone else with this.

So he runs.

He runs from his friends—from people he loves with all his heart; people he thought he’ll never see again. Runs from the promise of home and safety and this hell being finally over.

He runs, because he can’t take the salvation if he can’t share it with Grian.

Everything’s a bit of a blur as he rushes through the forest, looking for something to tell him where Grian is. He’s fully in his vex form, senses sharp and heart panicked, calling out, desperate for Grian to reply.

There’s no answer.

Scar sees it, then: a handful of ripped-out feathers and blood.

His heart jumps into his throat, but he laser-focuses and starts following the trail. The world feels askew around him, his steps urgent, his breaths hovering near growls that want to threaten the whole forest if anything dares to hurt Grian more. (He hopes Grian’s still out there.) (He has to be. He has to be—) (Why is he not replying to Scar’s calls, then?)

Scar’s aware that if he can follow the trail of blood, so can others. He needs to be better than them. Faster. (He needs to be a better hunter than them.) He knows that if he’s following the trail now, maybe someone already followed it. (He tries not to let that thought in. That he might be too late.)

He’s trailed by the hermit rescue party. They scramble in his wake, trying not to lose him. They lag behind, losing sight of him, but Cub staggers to follow his vex bond with Scar, like a tether, trying to hold down the swell of warning anxiety at the fact that Scar is in his vex form. Scar looks feral, he lashed out and ran from them, clothes stained by blood and hair white—

Them following just makes Scar feel hunted. His instincts go haywire and put him more on edge.

He keeps going.

He keeps calling out, too. Uncaring that he’s attracting every hunter in the vicinity. He can take them. He will happily attract them to himself if that means they won’t go after Grian instead. (The fact that he’s searching for Grian gets a bit tangled up in him. The fact that if he succeeds, he’ll just be bringing the hunters to Grian fails to quite register. He’s not thinking very straight.)

Hermits hear those wails, echoing through the forest. He sounds like a wandering spirit.

Inhuman.

Lost.

Grian is hurt. Hand pressed against the spot on his side that bleeds, he sits curled up, pressing himself into some bushes for a moment of reprieve—just a moment, just a little bit, please, please.

He hears Scar’s calls from far away. He hears them, and his heart tears itself to pieces.

He is terrified and hurting, and it feels dangerously close to a despair-filled memory.

He tries to shield himself from it. There’s a reason he ran. There’s a reason why Scar should stay away from him. He can’t— He shouldn’t— He—

Scar draws closer. Grian can hear his sobbing and heaving. His pleading, so heartrendingly desperate. “Grian please. Grian answer me.”

Grian finds himself cautiously standing up, every muscle taut. His heart is rabbity fast, fear clogging his throat.

He doesn’t mean to answer. He really, really doesn’t mean to. (He needs to keep Scar away.) Yet a distressed chirp slips through anyway, like a terrified call, begging for Scar.

The sound of it pitches something in Scar. His sobbing changes to panic and dwindling hopefulness. “Grian…?”

There’s a tinier chirp then. Scared. Still involuntary.

Grian is so so afraid and he should know better, but a part of him is desperate for Scar.

The moment he sees Scar, though, the futility rips through him. No. He isn’t meant to— Scar shouldn’t be near him. Because Grian’s been gone so shortly and yet the hunters have already found him. He’s already gotten hurt. He is a beacon.

He can’t stay near Scar. It’ll get Scar hurt.

It’ll get Scar killed.

(Everything good that stays near Grian dies—)

He needs to get away from him.

He backs away. Tells Scar, in a wobbly voice, not to approach.

Scar doesn’t care. He needs to get to Grian. He needs to get to him, they can go home, this can all be over.

Running on some faulty reasoning, Grian tries to get away. It’s useless, he is in no state to outrun Scar—he can’t bring himself to fly and he’s bleeding, dizzy on panic—but he feels like he needs to try, anyway.

His feet feel heavy beneath him, the world unsteady. Scar is behind him and Grian’s heart begs him to stop, turn around, and burrow into his arms. (He can’t he can’t he can’t—)

It takes only a couple of steps for Grian to trip over some roots, the world as cruel to him as ever, sending him plummeting harshly down in a rough tumble of leaves and limbs and feathers. A pained, fearful yelp gets punched out of him on impact.

Scar’s next to him in an instant, kneeling down and gathering him in his arms. Crying as he buries Grian in a hug, terrified he might try to run again. Frantically telling him, “Grian, it’s over, it’s over, we can go home— Please—”

Grian’s sobbing against him, held in place, unable to understand what Scar is saying. He just wants Scar to get away from him and stay safe. (Grian can’t be safe. He’s been doomed from the start. He’s been doomed this whole time.) (He’ll end up like that bird. Dead, with wings ripped off—)

The words “it’s over” mean nothing to him. All he manages to choke out is, “There is no— There’s no home anymore.” They’ve had their safety ripped away from them over and over again. They’ve been showed that they can’t have a home anymore; this world will not allow it. Nowhere is safe. Nowhere is safe, as long as Grian’s wings are bright violet and attached to his spine.

Scar insists, a series of reassurances, words tripping over each other as he tries to keep his hold on his voice. He says they’ll be okay. He says they don’t have to run anymore. Please, Grian, we can go home.

But it’s not a concept that exists anymore for Grian; it refuses to register in his mind, words sliding right off him, incoherent.

What he knows is this: he failed to protect Scar, and they don’t have a home to go back to, and Grian is sure the hunters are about to show up, any second. He’s so tired and terrified, and he needs Scar to be shielded from this fate. He needs him to be safe.

Scar isn’t letting go of him. His grip is firm as he continues to plead with Grian. He doesn’t want to be rough, he’s never been forceful with Grian, but he can’t let go now. Even as Grian paws at him and tries to push him away.

Grian’s crying so hard; his efforts to get free are all frantic and urgent, yet half-hearted. (He wants to give in and bury himself in the protectiveness of Scar’s arms.) (He wants all of Scar’s promises to be true.)

And yet something tips askew.

Because Scar’s never been forceful with Grian.

He was always so gentle. He’d never grab him like this, with so much force. So much insistence.

Grian is hit with a dizzying, nauseating thought. Is this a trap? Is this a mimic?

Grian starts chirping. More of those distressed, scared noises as he can't get free of Scar's grip.

It’s the first time ever that Scar won’t heed Grian’s requests to be let go. Not even if Grian says it hurts. He won’t let go he won’t he won’t. He’ll drag him home if he has to.

Grian’s scared and confused, all his thoughts are jumbled, running on rampant trauma responses and unadulterated panic. He can’t deal with any of this. He keeps trying to wrangle free and push Scar away (is it even Scar???), begging him to let go, but it’s so horribly weak. It’s almost nothing. He just chokes on sobs and hyperventilates. (He feels caught.) (He feels like Scar will get killed because of him.) (He doesn’t know what’s happening.)

It’s awful. It’s wrong. It’s— It’s not what it’s meant to be.

This should be easy. This should be the best day ever! They can go home!

Instead, it’s like a panicked final showdown and Scar feels like it’s him against everyone. The hermits weren’t listening to him (Grian needs him, he needs him, he needs him), and now Grian isn’t listening to him either. (He can’t comprehend what Scar’s saying at all, and isn’t that so heartbreaking?) (Scar is desperate to get through to him. To calm him down enough so that this could be anything more than Scar forcefully holding him as Grian chokes on panic.) (The kind of panic he should never feel in Scar’s arms—)

Voice breaking, Scar pleads, over and over again. Please, Grian. Please. It’s okay. It’s okay, we can go home, we’ll be alright. It’s me. It’s me, I got you, we’re gonna be safe.

It’s the kiss he presses to Grian’s hair that tips the scales a little, just enough for Grian’s chirps to mute, his sobbing drifting off into softer cries. He goes limp under the affection, still terrified, still trembling and choking on air, but now he’s pressing himself against Scar instead of trying to get free.

“G, do you understand what I’m saying?” Scar begs in a wavering voice, unbecoming of his feral appearance. He holds onto the magic prickling along his skin, alert for any sort of danger, anything that so much as tries to approach and hurt Grian. His hands are still clawed. His hair is still white. His veins are still stuffed with unending desperation.

Nothing is over yet.

It should be. It should be, but it isn’t.

Not yet, not yet.

The hunters find them before the hermits do.

[—TBC—]

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