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messylustt · 1 year

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obsessed ( simon says… ) — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : scream maybe you shouldn’t have picked up that call, or chose to play that game. but there’s no backing out now, even if ethan’s requests…escalate.

contents : knife play. making out (ofc). dub con. sexual ‘simon says’ game. possessive ethan. wc 3.2k.

pt one pt two pt three

“simon says…touch your knees.” ghostface—ethan—says through the phone.

you scoff, bending slightly down to touch your knee. “both of them. put me on speaker.”

you do as he says, resting your phone on the kitchen bench. to a neighbour you probably looked stupid, touching your knees in your kitchen.

“how many rounds?” you ask, awaiting his next request.

“until i get bored.” ghostface answers, as you clench your teeth. “simon says, take off your jacket.”

you remove your jacket, resting it beside your phone, as you lean against the counter. “i’m going to easily win this, ethan.”

“i wouldn’t be so sure.” he chuckles. “simon says, tie your hair up—in a ponytail.”

you shake your head in confusion, but do so, wrapping your hair tie around your hair. “you're gonna get bored easily.”

“will i?” he probes. “simon says, turn off the lights.”

you narrow your eyes.

“chickening out?”

you scoff, turning to the large light-switch, flicking down. you get enveloped in darkness, with the exception of the moon shining outside. “good.” Ghostface speaks as you walk back to your phone.

“simon says, grab a knife.”

you halt. “what?”

“simon says. grab. a. knife” ghostface repeats. you gulp. ethan said he didn’t want to kill you. god, he wasn’t gonna make you kill yourself…was he? you wouldn’t do it, obviously. but still, it’s hard to think of Ethan as someone so sadistic.

you walk to your knife block, picking out a reasonably large one. you spare a chuckle. “are we going to spar?”

“i’m not in your apartment.” he responds. “yet.”

you suck in a breath. “alright, next request.” you're feeling stupidly assured. and you’ll soon realise how stupid your assurance is.

“simon says, go to your room.”

you grab your phone as you make your way through your dark house. “you’re not in there…are you?”

“wow, you really don’t listen to a word i say.” ghostface says, as you reach your doorway, you reach to flick the light switch when he stops you. “keep it off.”

it’s probably better this way. easier to imagine that this isn’t happening at all. you walk further in. “shut the door.”

you continue, ignoring his request. “simon says, shut the door.” ghostface reiterates impatiently. you hold back a smirk as you rere back to shut your bedroom door.

“this is a game, ethan. not just you ordering me around.”

“mm,” ghostface hums slowly. “simon says,” he bites out. “sit on your bed, facing the door.”

you hold down your questions of confusion, as you slowly take a seat, rubbing your hands down your jeans, as you keep the knife placed beside you. “ethan, what's the point of this—”

“feel free to back out. but that means you don’t win.” you knew he was baiting you, manipulating you, but you needed to win. you sit straighter, trying to appear more confident. you had to have the group's own knowledge of ethan, before he hurt any of them.

“next request.”

ethan is smirking on the other line, excited for what was to come next. you were just so committed to helping your friends, such an admirable quality. but how far would you go for them?

“simon says…take off your shirt.”

there's a moment of silence as a thought you stupidly hadn’t thought of hits you. it was idiotic to think ethan wouldn’t use this game to his advantage. he had kissed you—three times now. you take a breath, before lifting the hem of your loose top. you hear a small, almost inaudible intake of breath on the other line. you're still in your bra, of course. it’s like you're wearing a bikini top…just more lacy, you think to yourself.

“alright—”

“take off your bra.” ghostface—ethan—cuts in.

you tilt your head. “what was that?”

you can hear him growl in irritation. “simon says; take off your bra.”

“i feel like there should be a request limit. you could carry this on forever. it's a little unfair.” you tease the clip of your bra, popping it, but keeping the cups to your chest.

you hear ethan scoff on the other line. “fine. i get 20.”

“20?” you raise a brow. “i’d say more like 7. you’ve already used a few.”

“jeezus christ.” ghostface groans. then it hits you. why was ethan so eager for you to remove your bra? he can’t…see you. you gaze around your room, looking for security cameras. you stop on one directly above your bedroom door. you narrow your eyes at it, and you catch ethan chuckling.

“yes, i can see you, y/n.”

you straighten, cursing yourself for not seeing the obvious. of course he was watching you.

“i’ll settle for 15.” ghostface says. you look away from the camera, mulling it over. “fine, 15 requests, but you’ve already used some.” you hum, counting in your head. “about 9. you have 6 left.”

ethan clenches his jaw in slight annoyance but answers anyway. “fine, 6.”

you feel satisfied, confidence filling you again. you can get through 6. “you haven’t completed my 9th request.” ghostface says, making you glance down at your still covered chest. you harshly breath, cursing under your breath, and ignoring the way your lower stomach heats up.

you slowly drop your bra, trying not to curl into yourself. “your 10th?” you quickly ask.

there's a moment of silence on ethan’s end, as you assume he’s just watching you. “ethan?”

“so impatient.” ghostface breathes. “simon says…touch you breasts—play with your nipples.”

“i feel like that could be two requests.”

“no it fucking isn’t— touch yourself.” the impatience in his dark voice has you reaching for your breasts. you ignored the pull of your morals, telling you how wrong this was. this was to help your friends.

you squeeze your breasts, the cold air having made your nipples turn hard. you brush your thumbs over your peaks, trying to swallow the shudder. you can hear heavy breathing on the other line, as you pinched your nipples, rolling them between your fingers. pleasure shocks shoot through you, but you do your best to ignore the want to relax onto your bed. you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction, or that view. though you're sure the view is nice enough as is.

you then lower your hands, away from your tits, and hear him groan. “11th?” you breathe, trying to hide your growing breathy tone. christ. the heat had spread through you, pooling down into your panties. you gulp.

ethan’s breath’s are heavy on the other line as excitement courses through him. “widen your legs, touch yourself inside your jeans.” then he quickly corrects himself, gulping. “simon says…do that.”

you hold back a scoff, as you drag your hand down to the zipper of your jeans. “slowly.” ghostface warns.

you slow your movements, unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down. you widen your legs, as you support yourself back with one of your hands, the other sinking into your panties. “simon says—tell me how wet you are…and why.”

you suck in a breath. this was the last thing you wanted to reveal to him. “be honest.” you can hear ghostface—ethan—shift over the phone. his tone is still modulated but way more breathy. you gulp down your pride and speak.

“i’m s-soaking.” your finger grazes across your clit.

“through your panties?”

you nod in response and ethan growls. “why?”

you had to say it. “because of…” you gulp. “because of you.” you're rubbing your clit now, as your pleasure begins to override your pride and morals.

you hear a breathy choke followed by a gulp. “what about me?”

“that's— more than your request.”

ethan has to hold back from marching into your apartment, grabbing your throat, and finishing you off himself. orgasm wise, not death. soon; he thinks to himself as he palms his dick through his jeans.

“simon says, finger yourself. insert two pretty fingers.”

your pussy is weeping and you're scolding yourself for it. you shouldn’t be turned on by a fucked up version of a children’s game, especially when its controlled by a killer. this situation was a mess, and you hated that you were soon becoming one too.

you pass your clit to insert two fingers, making your hips shudder against your duvet. you bite your lip to hold back moans, as you begin to finger yourself, your legs spreading wider for better access.

“fuck,” ghostface whimpers, as your head lolls back a second before you try to recompose yourself. “s-simon says, taste yourself.”

you hold back a whine as you remove your fingers, your body feeling empty. you raise your hand, to see your two fingers glistening in your arousal. “lick them.” he demands. you raise your fingers to your mouth and wrap your lips around them, by your knuckle. you suck and use your tongue to remove your wetness.

ethan is falling apart on his end of the line, as he watches your eyes slightly roll. you're trying to stay as composed as you can be, and watching you slowly crack has made ethan’s dick needy.

“last re-request.” you stutter out, as you remove your wet fingers.

there’s a pause, the air feeling incredibly tense.

then… “simon says…open the door.”

you freeze, staring at the wood, closed and now eerie. shit. ethan was right outside… wasn’t he? you had thought about him coming to your apartment after…all that. but that doesn’t mean you're anymore prepared.

you look at your phone to see that he’s hung up. you stand, looking at the knife. you grab it, taking a breath, and ignoring the pressure of an unfinished orgasm between your legs. you hesitate, all the possible; good and bad; swirling around in your head.

then it’s immediate…

ethan is opening the door, grabbing your jaw and wrists, pushing the knife away from him while also pulling you towards him. you stumble, your naked breasts hitting his clothed chest. you hiss as your nipples graze against the material. ethan is holding your cheeks between his fingers as he shuts the door behind him with his foot. he’s holding your wrist with the knife in your hand out to the side, his grip strong and unwavering.

“don’t tell me you were about to stab me?” ethan mocks, tilting your chin higher up to meet his gaze.

the moonlit atmosphere is making him look almost ethereal, if it weren’t for the crazed look in his eyes. he pushes you closer to your bed, making the back of your legs hit against it. he presses himself into you, as he gets the knife out of your grip.

“why did you ask me to get a knife if you didn’t expect me to use it?” you ask, as ethan stares down at your tits. he shoves you onto the bed, before hovering over your body.

“when i asked you to grab a knife i didn’t have harm in mind.” ethan hums as he brushes the flat side of the knife across your cheek, the cool metal making your shiver. he then leans closer, shifting the knife to reach one of your breasts. you stiffen. you should feel scared and you do, but not as much as you should. another feeling is creeping up on you fast, the burn between your legs still extremely prominent.

“e-ethan” you gulp as you feel the cool metal brush across your nipple. you unintentionally arch as a whimper leaves your mouth. ethan grins as he breathes across your lips.

“you don’t know how hard it was to stay put as I watched you touch yourself.” ethan darts his tongue out to lick your bottom lip as you whimper against the playing knife. “i wanted my hands to be feeling you, licking your taste of my own fingers.”

you shudder, as ethan moves down to wrap his mouth around your free nipple. the contrasting temperatures make your eyes roll.

“you looked so edible doing what you were told.”

“i-it was a game.”

“that you played very well.” he praised, as he licked your nipple. you jolt, your back arching off the bed.

“i thought you’d be more difficult, since you never seem to listen to me.” ethan speaks to your skin. “but look how obedient you are right now.”

“i’m not, your just— oh.” you moan ethan bites your nipple. pain an pleasure shoot through you.

“i’m sorry i didn’t quite catch that.”

“you mother—” you cut yourself off as the knife grazes your throat. still in use of the flat side, but the sharp edge is still seen as a threat to you. you gulp, as ethan notices your nearly fearful eyes.

he reaches your face again, looking down at you as he brings the knife away. his elbows are by your head as he cages you in. your breathing is rapid, and your body is on fire.

“your scared of me?”

“no I’m not.”

“just a little bit.” ethan says softly. He then kisses your lips, a gentle brush, making your head spin. “i’d never hurt you. you know that right?”

you focus on ethan’s eyes as he watches you. he then leans down to your ear, his hand reaching down to the top of your jeans. “i only want you to be writhing in pleasure, y/n.”

ethan then pulls down your jeans. over much better morals you slightly raise your hips. ethan smiles, as he tosses your pants to the side. he’s now kneeled on the bed. your legs between his open ones. he’s looking down at you with a tilt to his head. then he brings the knife into your vision.

you gulp as the metal lowers to your pussy. but ethan only cuts the material if your panties, pulling them away to leave you bare.

ethan then pulls his top over his head. you hadn’t expected Ethan to look so… you hope your not fucking drooling. ethan grins down at you as he unbuckles his belt.

you shudder as it makes a snap at how fast he removed it. he then unbuttons his jeans, but stops to move his legs. he now sits, both feet on the floor as he ushers you over by a head tilt.

ethan grabs your hair, and that’s when you remember you tied it up. ethan asked you to tie it up.

he pulls you to the floor as you fall to your knees. “fuck.” ethan breathes as you look up at him.

“you were prepared.” you say, talking about your hairstyle.

ethan smirks. “i’m always prepared. though, the bigger question, is are you?”

ethan pulls his cock out of his pants, as it stands tall and proud. you gulp, wide eyes staring. ethan’s hand tightens around your ponytail at your expression. “you don’t know how long I wanted you like this.” he hisses out. then he brings you closer, your mouth millimetres from where he needs.

your breath hits the tip of his cock, as his breathing shudders. “christ.” he moans as you finally wrap your lips around him. so delicate at first, just kitten licking the pre-cum off. ethan’s hips buck up desperately. And you finally sink down onto him. your cheeks hollowing out.

“oh— fuck.” ethan moans as you begin to bob your head up and down. ethan’s hold around your ponytail tightens and loosens depending on the pleasure that wracks through his body.

“god, look at you. drooling all over my c-cock. Shit.” ethan gulps. “you look so fucking pretty, so pretty.” he whines out as your pace picks up.

you then deep throat him, gagging around his head. ethan’s mouth hangs open in pleasure as sweat glistens his forehead. “how are you— fuck— how are you so good at this?” ethan musters, through his pathetic moans.

then a blinding pleasure shoots through him, as he thrusts his hips into you.

breathing hard you lean back, swallowing and wiping your bottom lip. ethan feels dazed as he stares at you. shit, he’d never orgasmed so hard.

he reaches forward to wipe away a spot you missed. you then grab his finger with your teeth, sucking his cum off. “y/n—“ ethan chokes out.

ethan then swiftly grabs your chin, pulling you up to stand as he swings you back onto the bed, underneath him. he crawls atop of you, his pants now gone, as he rips a condom packet between his teeth. rolling it onto his dick, he grabs your thighs, pulling you closer.

he’s directly in front of your lips when he speaks. “where did you learn that?”

you gulp. “you’re a little too good with your mouth.” ethan speaks, each letter hitting your lips. “can you show me again—what you did with you tongue?”

ethan then pushes the tip of his cock into you. you gasp as you grip his shoulders. “h-how?”

ethan leans closer to your mouth. “imagine my tongue is my dick, and show me.” he whispers the last words before he kisses you.

you were rather experienced with giving him head. how many other guys have felt what he felt? he kisses you harder, pushing himself all the way in.

you moan into his mouth, but he stays kissing you, swallowing all the sounds escaping you. “show me.” he says again breaking away for a second.

he wanted to know exactly how skilled you were. he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, as you panted. but you do as ethan says, and lick the tip of ethan’s tongue. ethan has to hold down whimpers as the feeling of you around his dick sends stars into his mind.

you move your tongue to trail down his as you kiss him harder. you keep swirling and circling as ethan tries to not let his eyes roll. he breaks always from your mouth a second to thrust hard into you, making your nails scratch down his shoulder blades.

“fucking hell y/n.” ethan breathes against your open, panting mouth. “you do know what your doing with that tongue. who the fuck else has felt it?”

“w-what?”

“your tongue—who else has felt it?” he speaks harsher as he thrusts into you.

your a mess, a whimpering mess underneath ethan. “tell me.”

“a f-ew guys.” you manage to say in-between thrusts.

“a few guys huh?” ethan hits your g-spot harder, making you writhe underneath him.

“i need names, y/n.” ethan breathes. “fuck.” both your highs are so close.

“i don’t remember— t-them all.”

“or are you just too fucked out to think, right now?” ethan’s pacing has turned somewhat sloppy as his orgasm is at arms reach.

“god, y/n. cause i can’t have boys walking around with an experience of you. they’ve touched you. touched what’s…mine.”

you moan, trying to reach for your orgasm. ethan groans as he feels his cock twitch. “my girl, right?” he breathe-hisses. “my girl—all for me.” he kisses you, just as his high hits, yours not far after.

your both panting as the pleasure slowly falls away in waves.

“shit.” you mutter. either because of how good that felt, or because you’d just fucked a ghostface.

“i—” you gulp. “i won.”

ethan chuckles. “you’d win if you did all of my requests.”

your brows furrow, as heavy breathes still escape you. He leans down to speak to your lips again. “the last one. i told you to open the door.”

“i—” you pause, remembering. you hadn’t opened it. you hesitated and ethan had had to come in instead.

your eyes grow wide as ethan grins. you’d lost. your friends…

“but don’t worry,” ethan begins. “maybe if you ask nicely i might stab them somewhere they can heal.”

#. ( archived )#the ethan effect #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry #jack champion x y/n #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion smut #scream #scream 6 #scream smut

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earthtooz · 1 year

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x : MORE :*+ﾟ

in which: rin's not happy with your decision to sleep on the couch.

warnings: cliché lol, 1.1k, hurt/comfort, gn!reader, unedited + ooc!rin towards the end, a lot of metaphors but hey one cliché leads to another.

a/n: this is practice for me to a) get back into writing and b) remind u guys that i am still writing luls, enjoy!! reblogs r vv appreciated, but this quality is actually so ass.

“are you sure you want to sleep out here tonight?” rin’s voice asks from the hallway entrance, slight concern laced in his tone as he watches your backside set up on the couch, fidgeting with the pillows and blankets.

“yeah, i’m positive,” you answer, not turning around to look at him; something rin frowns at.

“oh…” he mutters, leaning awkwardly on the wall as he scours his brain to try and find something to say. “really?”

“yes, really.”

“won’t you be uncomfortable?”

“i’ll be fine. it’s not that bad here.”

“if you’re sure.”

silence cuts the conversation with a cold knife, leaving the two of you in the suffocating quiet, one that stops rin from instigating further conversation despite how badly he wanted to continue. because if he shuts up then that means he has to leave, but he doesn’t want to leave you alone. he wants you to come to bed so the two of you can sleep peacefully together and not (what feels like) eons apart where he can’t hold you.

“are you going to go to bed? it’s getting late,” you ask, no hint of hostility at all in your tone as you shuffle under the covers, disappearing from rin’s view completely.

he bites the inside of his cheek, disheartened at your eagerness to see him go. “oh, right. goodnight.”

he lingers for a second longer, waiting for a ‘goodnight’ back, or even better, an ‘i love you’, but neither comes and rin feels his chest contract.

rin didn’t mean for the argument to escalate, he didn’t mean to sharpen his words and pierce you with them, he didn’t mean to hurt you to the point that you didn’t want to sleep beside him.

as he slowly makes his way to your shared bedroom, your absence on your side of the bed hits him even harder. it’s cold. it’s empty. it’s void. rin loathes it.

you’re not faring much better, replaying the argument in your head over and over again as the small, coffee table lamp illuminates the room with a warm yellow. each replay of the memory just twists the knife further and causes a new batch of tears to wet your eyes.

you hate this. you hate feeling weary around rin, you hate feeling like you need to walk on egg shells around him from now on, you hate feeling like he doesn’t value you the same way you do with him, you hate these new revelations coming to your brain as you reflect on your relationship-

“you’re still awake?” a voice comes from the hallway.

leaning up onto your elbows, you blink in shock at the new figure making itself known. thanks to the lamp, you can see rin from where he stands, and you can see the confusion in his eyes.

“uh… yeah,” you say.

“why are you still up?”

“i was thinking. why are you still up?”

“i…” rin hesitates for a second, “i wanted to check up on you.”

your heart flutters at his shy confession. “i’m fine, thank you.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

“why, are you not fine?”

no, he’s not. he wants you to come back to bed, he wants you to reassure him that the two of you will still be okay, he wants you.

“no,” lies rin. “i’m okay.”

the soccer player regrets his words instantly.

“that’s good. i’m gonna sleep now and you should too, you have a big day tomorrow.”

but rin can’t sleep. not without you beside him because otherwise, the bed is too vacant and too chilly and reminds him of the life he used to live too much.

and he’s scared that he’ll have to go back to living like that if you’re not there beside him, petrified that you’ll leave in the middle of the night because you’ve realised that he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you.

instead of confessing that, the dark-haired merely sighs, the words lodging themselves in his throat. “okay. i’m off.”

you reach over to turn off the lamp, engulfing the room in darkness with a single click. “goodnight, rin.”

“i love you,” rin confesses, but it’s too quiet and too breathy for you to hear, so there’s no response. he hopes you know.

so, he retreats back into the barren wasteland that is your shared bedroom. he misses you. he reaches over to your side in hopes of being to feel some remnants of comfort.

30 minutes later, rin wakes again after weaving in and out of consciousness and he’s sick of it. it’s 1:10am and he only has five hours until he needs to get up. decisively, he throws the cover off of him and makes his way to the living room, intent on this trip being his last one.

it’s dark in the living room and rin can’t find it in him to turn on a light and disturb your slumber, so after adjusting to the dark and mindlessly patting around, he eventually threads his arms underneath you. he lifts you up so effortlessly, driven by determination and love as he walks to familiar path back to your shared bedroom.

he settles you down gently and the last thing rin remembers before drifting off is the warming feeling of content as he pulls you into his arms.

the following morning, you rouse to the sound of a blaring alarm; the one rin always uses because otherwise gentle alarms won’t coax him successfully. your lover shuffles beside you, shutting the clock off with a groan before wrapping an arm around you again, pulling you into his warmth.

wait.

you raise yourself up onto your elbows, dazed and confused. weren’t you meant to be on the couch?

“don’t go,” rin murmurs, snaking his arm up to wrap your shoulders instead, gently guiding you down to the mattress, “sleep.”

“how did i get here?” you ask and rin stiffens before pulling you in to his chest. “rin, i’m being serious.”

“you were always here.”

“don’t lie to me.”

“i’m not lying, so let’s sleep.”

you’re sick of his shit. “itoshi rin, i swear to-”

“i carried you back here, now shut up. i only have 10 minutes before i have to get up and get ready.”

“i think i’ll go back to the couch, actually,” you say jokingly.

“not funny.”

“i think it’s plenty funny.”

he frowns, wrapping himself around you even tighter. you don’t hug him back, but you’re here and that’s all that matters to rin. you didn’t leave like he thought you would.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, “for last night. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“it’s okay, rin, we can talk about it later.”

“we’re okay right?”

“of course.”

“you… you won’t leave. right?”

“i would never. why would you think i would?”

“just being stupid, i guess.”

“better you than me.”

he huffs, letting the conversation die to silence.

you speak up again, “i love you.”

rin feels a weight lift off his shoulders. he can breathe again.

“i love you more.”

#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you #rin itoshi x you #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabble #itoshi rin #itoshi rin bllk #blue lock

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cherryredstars · 8 months

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hello cherry!!

I really love your work, and I was wondering if you could do a second part of Miguel being CEO (In the job description)

I'm very sorry if I don't express myself well, English is not my first language

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut with Some Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Vibrators, Penetrative Sex, Mirror Sex, Slight Slapping

Summary: Don’t accept gifts from your boss…or wear it.

A/N: I made an alternate version of this (basically part 1.5), so let me know if you guys want me to post that one!

Word Count: 3K (Not Edited)

Reverse AU Part 1 Part 1.5

It was extremely unprofessional.

That’s what you thought when Miguel passed by your desk the morning after your little… moment in his office. He gave you a fleeting smirk as he placed a medium-sized black box right in front of you. A deep blush spread across your face, unable to meet his eyes while he stared at you for a few minutes before walking away and shutting the door to his office. An uneasy feeling filled your stomach as you watched the door before sliding your eyes over the box.

It was the type of box someone would get clothes in for Christmas, only pricer and better quality. A pretty silk ribbon held the lid and bottom together, in a matching matte black color. Carefully, you pulled at one of the ends, the bow easily unraveling. When you took the ribbon off, a deeper blush spread over your body as you saw the words engraved into the cardboard.

Stamped on the box was the name of the popular lingerie store in the shopping district. It was a store you passed by daily on your way to and from work, and a store that was most definitely out of your price range even with the gracious salary you had. Your hands instantly slapped over the words, leaning over your desk to see if anyone was coming or if Miguel was making any move to leave his office. When the coast was clear, you hesitantly sat back down.

You cleared your throat nervously, staring at the box before giving into your curiosity. As gently as possible, you lifted the lid of the box, face slightly hiding behind it to obscure your view. An exhale leaves you as maroon tissue paper covers whatever is inside. You take another deep breath before leaning forward and lifting one flap of the tissue paper. A surprised gasp leaves you, staring at the 3 pairs of lacy underwear in the box.

Each panty is made from lacy material, making them slightly see-through. When you run your hands over them, they’re delicate to the touch and you can tell its high quality stuff. Each one is a different color. The first is a set of white panties to replace the ones from yesterday that Miguel claims to have no idea about. The second one, a deep navy blue that is fairly similar to the navy blue of Miguel’s favorite designer suits. And lastly, a blush color that rivals the one across your cheeks.

You’re so caught up in just marveling at the contents of the package, that you don’t realize Miguel is standing in front of your desk until he starts speaking. “I take it you like them?”

You’re instantly jolted and clumsily try to cover up the panties and close the box. You’re sure if someone saw your face, it would be a damn near perfect color match to one of those pairs of panties. You shyly look up at Miguel clearing your throat and leaning back in your chair to create more distance between the two of you. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A lazy smirk spreads against Miguel’s face before he shakes his head in amusement. “I was calling you into my office, but you didn’t seem to hear the buzzer.” He hums, eyes trained on the black box he gifted you. You can tell he’s tempted to say something by the way his mouth straightens and his brows furrow slightly, but he ends up not commenting on it and continues what he was saying before. “I was going to tell you that the charity fundraiser is this weekend, and we have to attend to meet the new potential merger.”

His words make you want to grab the box on your desk and slam it against your head a few trillion times. It’s no secret that both you and Miguel hate the monthly fundraisers. Okay, that sounds bad. Both you and Miguel are happy that somewhere over a hundred grand gets donated to great charities, it’s just the whole business aspect of it you hate. Having to sit around with smiles that are so fake that they cause the muscles of your cheeks to ache, listening to some old CEO who is in dire need to retire spew on and on about very old fashioned beliefs, and the undercooked batches of pasta they serve at the venues are barely anything to gush about.

Miguel can sense the discontent rolling off of you in waves, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “Do you need a dress or shoes? It’s the Unique charity this year, black-tie event as per usual.”

A heavy sigh leaves you and your finger traces the edge of the box. You mentally go through your closet, trying to remember if you have any appropriate dresses that you haven’t worn in previous years. You come up blank, an oncoming migraine forming at your temple. “I’ll figure something out.”

Miguel gives a displeased hum, knocking his fists against your desk. He leans away, fixing the sleeves of his button up and ruffling his hair. “No worries, I’ll have LYLA send you authorization for my business card and a few dress and shoes options.”

You’re about to protest, but the sound of his phone ringing interrupts you. Miguel rolls his eyes as he sees the contact, answering it and turning away as he grumbles out a greeting. He walks towards his office and turns to give you one last nod before entering. A deep sigh leaves you and you close your eyes as you lean back into your chair. You squint one eye open, eyeing the box before stuffing it in your bag with a huff.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!”

You run around your small apartment, nothing but a towel covering your body. Your hair is the only thing done, going for an easy blow drying and curling. You groan when you see the pile of laundry in your room, rummaging in your panty drawer to find nothing but a few that are in desperate need to be thrown away due to their worn out state. You’re on the verge of crying when you see the black box thrown carelessly on top of your other drawer.

You bite your lip, nerves swallowing your being. You weren’t ever planning to wear them, I mean they’re from your boss for god’s sake! But really, you have no choice. With an annoyed groan and exhale, you grab the box and grab the navy blue pair, the color matching the color of your dress. You hastily slip them on, rushing back and forth between your bathroom and your bedroom to do your makeup and get dressed.

By the time you finish the struggle of zipping up your dress, your phone rings with Miguel’s number. You grab your phone and your purse, answering as you slip on your heels. Miguel’s gruff voice echos as you press the speaker option and unlock your door. He grumbles that the driver is outside your house and you hum in acknowledgement as you check your bag for everything you need as you shut the door behind you after locking it. You rush down the hall and into the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently as you wait to reach the ground floor.

Once the doors slide open, you’re speed walking to the exit and instantly spotting the sleek black car right against the curb. Miguel stands by the car door, a loud ping ringing from his phone that causes his brows to furrow. He looks up at the sound of your heels, that furrowed look still on his face as he eyes you up and down. You copy his facial expression, asking him what’s wrong. He only looks back down at his phone, dismissing whatever it was and opening the car door for you.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

You have no idea how you got here.

The second you and Miguel entered the venue, the both of you had down a flute of champagne and gone through the agonizingly long process of greeting every current and future business partner that was present. Everything was going fine, your fake smile was yet to ache and the desserts looked promising. That was until, of course, a sharp zap ran up your spine as you felt something vibrating against you.

You had choked on your words, trying to play it off with an abrupt sip of alcohol and a strained laugh as you conversed with some of Miguel’s business partners while he dismissed himself for a quick run to the bar. It had been sudden, maybe a trick played on you by your own mind, until it started again. But this time, it was more intense. You had hurriedly excused yourself, making up some excuse before dashing towards the bathroom.

You rushed through the door, sighing in relief when no one else was inside. You hurried to the counter of sinks, leaning your elbows on the surface as you bent over and hissed. The vibration, that was most definitely coming from your fucking panties, just seemed to be more intense as you shifted from leg to leg and clenched your thighs to relieve the feeling. A struggling whimper left you as you lifted your head to look into the mirror, jumping when you see Miguel leaned against a bathroom stall and staring at you. You must not have heard him enter through the foggy mess in your head.

You instantly snap up, legs crossed as you turn around and clutch the edge of the counter tightly. You open your mouth, about to scold Miguel for being in the women’s bathroom, but another desperate whine leaves you as the vibration around your clit focuses on the perfect spot from your new stance. Miguel’s brow raises as his eyes ghost down your form, catching the way sweat begins to break on your hairline. A lazy smirk crosses his face when he pulls out his phone from his dress pants, tapping around it a few times before you slouch.

A sense of relief fills you as the strong vibrating stops and your clit is given a break. A heavy sigh leaves you, head tilting down before the realization hits you. Your head instantly snaps up, your wide eyes meeting Miguel’s mischievous ones. Of course. What else would he do but give you fucking vibrating panties. Your eyes trail down to his phone, watching as he taps it with his thumb again and suddenly the vibration is back. Your body tenses up again, and you watch helplessly as Miguel walks over to you.

He presses his hand into the front of your dress, directly over your panties. The pressure of his hand makes the vibration stronger, and a choked gasp leaves you. Miguel hums, feeling the strong vibrations through your dress, his eyes moving to your face. “I didn’t think you’d ever wear ‘em.”

That makes two of us, You think as your eyes squint into a glare, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent a noise threatening to spill out. Your hands come up to hold onto Miguel’s wrist, trying weakly to take his hand away. He only chuckles, pressing his hand harder against you before taking it away. Your hands fall from him, insead returning to grip on the counter when he turns you around quickly. A wave of deja vu hits you when he presses down on your lower back so your chest is fully pressed, his hands hurriedly gathering your dress so the surplus of fabric bunches around your waist.

His hand skims the center of your underwear, two fingers pressing against your clothed clit. A moan leaves you as the vibrations grow stronger under his fingers, your hips squirming to get away. Miguel’s hand tightens around your waist, making it harder for you to move. He watches you from the mirror, enjoying the concentrated and tortured look on your face.

“You know,” Miguel starts lazily, fingers starting to draw slow circles on your clit, “You never answered my question before.” A loud gasp leaves you and you hiss out his name after his hand comes to give your clit a firm slap. “Do you like my gift?”

A weak sound leaves you as you bite your lip. Your hips try to press into Miguel’s hand when he starts his slow circles again, crying out when he removes his hand completely. You hear the rustling of a belt buckle and pants, your gasp in sync with the hiss Miguel lets out when he presses the head of his cock into your panties. The vibrations play against his head, his hand holding his base as he rubs himself up and down the length of your panties. His eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as he enjoys the feel of your increasingly wet panties and the vibrating.

His hand pushes your panties to the side, his cock falling forward to poke at your glistening entrance. Even though the vibrating panties aren’t directly over your clit, you can still feel them from their place right besides it. Your own eyes flutter shut, moaning at the feel before Miguel’s hand grasps your face from behind. His large hand squishes your cheeks together and your eyes flutter open to see his face right besides yours in the mirror. Both Miguel’s and your eyes meet in the mirror, his demanding while yours are hazy.

His tip slightly slides into you and you groan. Miguel’s hold tightens on your face when he pulls out. “Answer the question, preciosa.”

A weak nod leaves you, a puff of air escaping your nose as you lean your hips back to grind slightly against Miguel’s cock. A strangled grunt leaves him and His eyes fall down to where you’re grinding before looking back at you. His breath is hot against your cheek, causing shivers down your spine. “Don’t look away. Just watch.”

Without warning, he slams into you. A loud scream leaves you, eyes threatening to roll back as you watch him. His eyes are dark and focused on where he thrusts brutally into you, your body sliding closer to the mirror before he pulls you back towards him. You make a weak attempt to talk, stuttering out something about the door before he grunts and replies it’s locked. It does little to conceal your worries. As if sensing it, Miguel’s hand slides up to your mouth to cover it, muffling the noises you’re letting out.

The only sounds that can’t be muffled are the soft, wet sounds that come from his heavy balls hitting against your wet heat. You’re so wet that you’re coating him, a stickiness connecting his balls to your cunt as he thrusts. Your eyes roll back and a harsh slap is thrown against your cheek. Unfocused eyes meet Miguel’s angered ones, his thrusts turning harsher and more punishing as he looks at you disapprovingly.

“I told you to watch. Keep your eyes on the mirror or I'll stop.”

A sound of protest leaves you, mumbling out sorry repeatedly as you try to keep your eyes focused on the mirror. The view is shaking from the way your body jolts with each pump of his hips, but he doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it makes him go faster and try to see how shaky he can make your vision and your legs. His hand gives you one more smack to the cheek before covering your mouth again.

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out and that hotness is forming at the bottom of your stomach. Miguel’s is fast approaching too, the sensation of your tight, warm walls sucking him in and the slight vibrations running through your walls from the vibrating panties. His hand leaves your hip, moving in between your legs and moving the shaking fabric back over your clit. The angle is awkward, trying to find it under layers of falling fabric from your dress while he’s hammering his cock into you. But eventually he gets it, and you instantly fall apart.

Your scream is muffled by Migue’s hand, your body shaking as you clench tightly around him and gush all over his cock. Miguel lets out a curse, his thrusts stuttering and becoming clumsy. You call out his name weakly, and he’s gone. He stills with a deep groan, filling you up with his warmth. You both stand there for a moment, basking in the aftershocks of pleasure before you start suffering from overstimulation from the still vibrating underwear.

You weakly cry out to Miguel, who hurriedly turns on his phone and kills the vibrating. A deep, grateful sigh leaves you as you slump forward. A small moan leaves you when Miguel pulls out, reaching up to the tissue paper dispensers to wipe you and him down. He rebuckles his pants, pulling your panties back in place and your dress down. You flinch when the drenched fabric meets you, half expecting for it to start vibrating again. Instead, another piece of paper tissue is dabbed against your face and neck as Miguel tries to rid your skin of sweat without fully removing your makeup.

A grateful noise leaves you before you stand up when Miguel steps back. When you turn your head towards him, a soft kiss is pressed to your cheek. Miguel strokes the spot with his thumb, eyes trailing to yours before he looks away and moves towards the door.

“Not going to steal my panties this time?” You can’t help but call out, hands still gripping the edge of the sinks tightly.

Miguel turns with a teasing smile and shrugs. “Nah, you can keep them this time. Just make sure to wear one of the other pairs to work on Monday.”

A deep flush flows across your face at his innuendo, watching as he unlocks the door and slips out. A deep sigh leaves you as you turn towards the mirror again, an annoyed noise leaving you as you spot imperfections in your makeup. You open your bag, working on small touch-ups as you think back to what occurred a few minutes ago. A small smile crosses your face and you shake your head before you head to follow Miguel back out for another hour of socializing.

Just benefits of the job.

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wtfsteveharrington · 24 days

Text

after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors.

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?”

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago.

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off.

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.”

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there.

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?”

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.”

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him.

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused.

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief.

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out?

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least.

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are.

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off.

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.”

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too.

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream.

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him?

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess.

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone.

Oh he’s so fucked.

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.”

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late.

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work.

He had to.

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen.

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?”

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.”

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.”

And you laugh.

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions.

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now.

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today.

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems.

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg.

And he stops looking there.

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them.

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away.

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing.

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss.

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again.

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen.

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes.

His cheeks are hot.

Fuck is he blushing?

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you.

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you.

Okay fine, it is.

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground.

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop.

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor.

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up.

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different.

“You good, Chef?”

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat.

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.”

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything, Chef.”

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.”

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders.

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back.

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious.

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief?

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.”

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.”

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor.

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you.

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him.

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well.

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video.

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #so many versions of his name #🤍: the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #♡: carmen berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear smut #the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy smut #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you

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tokoumaru · 1 year

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★ liyue boys' voicelines about you!

feat.childe, zhongli, xiao tags. headcanons, fluff, gender neutral reader, established relationships (for childe and zhongli) word count. 1.9k tw. mentions of fights on childe's part and light injuries on xiao's part.

synopsis. genshin impact boys and their in-game voicelines about you!

voicelines series. part 1: liyue, part 2: mondstat, part 3: inazuma, part 4: sumeru

childe/tartaglia

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

(Y/N)? You mean my assistant? Are they finishing up the paperwork I assigned them? Tell me comrade, what might they be doing on this fine day? It's been such a long time since I've last seen them! What do you mean you saw us together by the harbor just last night? Well, aren't you quite keen... To tell you the truth, they're one of my most formidable opponents. They're quite adept at the bow- not as adept as me of course. As for why we spend so much time together... heh, they just so happen to be a close ally of mine.

More About Tartaglia: Closest Companion (Friendship Lv. 5)

There isn't many you can trust while working in an organization like the Fatui, *sigh* especially when most your coworkers are cunning Harbingers. Aside from being my assistant, (Y/N) is one of the only few people I can trust wholeheartedly. They've accompanied me throughout the many battles I've fought, and though they might not be as great of a warrior as me- a given, they're quite the entertaining sparring buddy... when they start getting serious, I can't help but feel a few tingles crawl my back when I see their malicious eyes directed at me.

More About Tartaglia: Childhood Friends (Friendship Lv. 6)

Morepesok was just a small village, everyone knew of each other and their grandparents... (Y/N) had been my only friend back then, before and after I ventured deep into the abyss. Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon just love them! Though, I have to admit I do get a bit jealous of my siblings when they steal their attention for quite awhile. Aside from my family, they may be the only good memories I have of that seaside town. Every spontaneous battle I win, every rash decision I make, they're somehow always there to make things better... the taste of victory could never feel better without them by my side. I'm truly thankful that they've stuck by me for so long... I'll protect them no matter what.

About You: Lovers (Friendship Lv. 10)

(Y/N)... my lover? You could tell from the sound of my voice when I was talking about them? Hah, was I too obvious? Well, It wasn't like I was trying to hide it from you, comrade. It's true, we've been lovers for quite awhile now, and I wouldn't have it any other way! They're quite the sweetheart, I'm sure I've told you about how they accompanied me throughout my entire life. Hmm... You don't get how they could stay with someone like me for so long? What exactly do you mean by that, comrade? Simply put, it's because they love me and I love them of course! And if they do happen to think of leaving… well, as if I'd let that happen. Comrade, one day I will conquer the world, and you'll see my dearest (Y/N) right beside me. If it just so happens that they aren't there to see it... I'll make it so that there won't be any world, person, or god left for anyone to conquer, and not even you can stop me.

zhongli/morax

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

There is a small flower shop of the highest quality residing in the outskirts of Liyue Harbor, there lies a quiet but passionate vendor that goes by the name (Y/N). Ever since I had surrendered my duties as the Geo Archon, they have helped me acclimatize to 'mortal' life greatly. Though I may have overseen Liyue's growth to prosperity from the very beginning, there are still some mortal nuances that are lost on a being as old as I am. I truly appreciate their presence and ever-lasting kindness for a newcomer such as I.

More About Zhongli: Favorite Places (Friendship Lv. 5)

I often spend my days at Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, working there as a Consultant for those departed. Although, in rare moments in which I am freed from my duties, you may also find me at Third-Round Knockout or Xinyue Kiosk enjoying a few Liyuen delicacies. Hmm? (Y/N)? The flower shop right next to Wanmin Restaurant? Ah, yes... perhaps I do spend a generous amount of my time there… Just how exactly do I spend so much hours in such a quaint flower shop, you ask? Well, there is only one possible thing one can do in a such a shop— that is to purchase flowers of the most beautiful kind. For who? ...It seems you're quite the curious individual, my friend.

More About Zhongli: The Past and the Future (Friendship Lv. 6)

Although I've resigned myself to 'mortal' life, the memories of acting as Liyue's longstanding Archon are ones that I can never bring myself to leave in dust. There is a flower shop on the outskirts of Liyue Harbour, I am sure you have seen me frequent the quiet place beforehand... May it be Violet grass, Qingxins, Silk flowers, or even rarities such as Glaze lilies, you may find it there. For someone who has lived as long as I have, each object- each flower- has become a reminder of times long ago. Whenever I visit the serenic shop, I cannot help but halt and reminisce about friends whose memories, both pleasant and unpleasant, only live in the flowers they used to love... Deciding to live as 'Zhongli', even if the task may pose to be quite difficult, I have promised to put these matters behind me, such as my contract dictates... Though, looking up from the nostalgic flowers to see (Y/N)'s auspicious smile never fails to remind me that, perhaps, there may still be more to discover for someone such as I, who has possibly witnessed everything there could be.

About You: Lovers (Friendship Lv. 10)

As the longstanding 'God of Contracts', there are many contracts that hold great importance to me. Though, in the centuries I've lived up until now, there is one that reigns above all. The contract with my dearest (Y/N) is one that I hold most close to my heart. What sort of contract, you ask? It is one where only the closest of partners can enact, in mortal terms you may call it 'matrimony'. For someone who has lived through a millennium, I was quite hesitant to proceed with this sort of contract, after all, it was a contract that requires one to dedicate a life's worth of time. However, once I saw (Y/N)'s optimistic eyes at the slightest mention, perhaps I already knew of their answer. Since then, there has not been even the slightest feeling of regret at my decision to dedicate my mortal life to them. Each moment I spend with my dearest is one I will treasure greatly. They listen to each of my long tangents about the history of Liyue with ease... It would provide great relief if I were to spend my last moments in this world by their side.

xiao/alatus

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

(Y/N)... It's hard not to know of a persistent mortal with such great tenacity. Unlike other mortals, they seem to lack a sense of danger and most especially, a sense of boundaries. Hmph... their irritating gesture of offering me a plate of Almond Tofu every night is not necessary for a Yaksha such as I, who does not need sustenance to live. They truly have no respect for the ways of the Adepti...

More About Xiao: The Ways of the Yaksha (Friendship Lv. 5)

As the last remaining Yaksha, it is my duty to conquer the demonic spirits that plague the outskirts of Liyue. This responsibility is one that I have been assigned to from the moment I had been saved by Rex Lapis. Though I've dealt with the subject of death for centuries, the karmic debt it brings me only weighs heavier on my shoulders... Yet, that tenacious mortal... (Y/N)... why is it that the weight of my debt disappears in the uncommon moments I speak to them? Tch... it doesn't matter. The karmic debt I’ve accumulated is my burden to carry. A mere mortal could never alleviate nor withstand it... especially not a fragile one such as (Y/N).

More About Xiao: Human Emotions (Friendship Lv. 6)

I'm far from human. I can't make much of human emotions... why does that mortal- (Y/N), go such great lengths to form a bond with me? I do not understand why they persistently come back to Wangshu Inn after I've deliberately ignored their advances... There was one night where their absence caused me a great amount of trouble. At the balcony of Wangshu Inn, the table in which they had often offered me their Almond Tofu was empty. At the same time, I had sensed a great deal of demonic energy at the mountains of Qingyun Peak. Tch... That fragile mortal was caught up in a losing fight between two Mitachurls. How could they be so stupid. I was about to leave once I had ascertained their safety, yet with such audacity did they grip my wrist just to simply give me a single Qingxin flower. How childish. The gesture was completely unnecessary, it was only burdensome. I cannot save them from danger each time they decide to offer me a measly item. This flower tied to my belt? Hmph. I... forget it.

More About Xiao: Human Emotions II (Friendship Lv.7)

(Y/N)... Why does their presence stir such a storm within me. Yakshas have no need for trifling pests such as emotion. I can't fathom why I… greatly desire their company. Hmph, I have no time for such distractions when the perpetual battle I face continues on... Yet, why does the weight on my shoulders only grow heavier when I continue to ignore their presence? Traveler, as you are the closest to mortals, tell me, what must one do to get rid of this burdensome feeling… I can't? What do you mean, I can't? You mean to tell me... the only way to rid of this emotion is to face (Y/N)? Tch. Impossible. A Yaksha who is burdened by a great weight of karmic debt could never sit next to a fragile mortal such as themselves. It is my duty to protect the citizens of Liyue, not bring death upon them caused by my karmic debt. Me? Worried? Ha. Do not judge adepti by your mortal ideals. I am only doing my duty as a protector of Liyue.

About You: Lovers/Companions (Friendship Lv.10)

The mortal concept of emotions- especially love, is something foreign to a Yaksha such as I, who has only known death. The night in which I asked you what I was feeling for (Y/N), Morax- or as he now goes by- Zhongli, had travelled to Wangshu Inn. He had come by just to inform me of his 'matrimony' with a mortal... it had stirred such confusion within me to see such a soft look on his face. Tell me, was that what I looked like when I spoke of (Y/N)? Before he left, Morax told me that it wouldn't hurt to indulge in mortal desires now that Liyue was capable of standing on its own... Although I am an inhumane Yaksha, the feelings that arose whenever I saw (Y/N) were too intense to dismiss... When they asked me to be their 'lover', there was nothing else I could do but agree. Do I regret it? Hmph. Adepti such as myself don't feel emotions akin to regret... perhaps they may feel emotions such as love, unfortunately.

a/n. tbh this was so hard to write... HELP it was very hard to try and make these voicelines actually sound like them! i had to actually use my brain for once... I TRULY APOLOGIZE IF IT WAS OOC (heavy on xiao)! HELP i think its obvious that xiaos my favourite... but it was also because I didn't know how to make him have a loverasdhjsds. also whenever I typed in the phrase about you I couldnt help but start singing the 1975's about you hehe

#✧.* genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #childe #childe x reader #childe imagines #childe fluff #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #zhongli fluff #xiao #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #xiao fluff

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eldritch-thrumming · 3 months

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what, like it’s hard?, pt. one

“it’s just that… if i want to win a seat in congress by the time i’m thirty, i need to find someone who’s serious about my career. not some little elementary school teacher that cares more about his students than what he’s wearing on my campaign stops,” tommy tells steve, as they’re sitting in quite possibly the fanciest restaurant steve’s ever step foot in. the menu hadn’t even included any prices.

“but… i’m seriously in love with you.” steve feels like his whole world is falling apart. just last week he’d been so sure that tommy was getting ready to propose. he’d introduced steve to his family—they’d spent a week out on martha’s vineyard for a family reunion at which steve had met tommy’s great-grandmother, hands laden with rings as she’d winked when tommy had asked for a private conversation. steve had been so sure that conversation was about the family ring.

“and i love you too, baby, but look. you don’t want to have to leave your students for half the year to come on the campaign trail with me, do you?” tommy asks, not even really looking at steve. he continues to just eat his stupid dinner as if he’s not ripping steve’s heart out at this very moment.

and steve can’t help but think how silly this all is, because it’s not like tommy’s actually running for anything right now. steve doesn’t even teach yet, beyond the two days a week he does his student teaching. they’re only 22, they haven’t even graduated northwestern with their bachelors degrees! but tommy’s saying these things as if they’re all real, right now.

“and i’m off to harvard next fall. it’s not like we’ll stay together while i’m there and you’re still here, right?”

and the thing is, steve had actually thought he’d be going with tommy to boston. they’re both set to graduate in the spring, steve with his degree in education and tommy with a dual major in pre-law and political science. they hadn’t really ever talked about it, but they’d been together since the beginning of their sophomore year. so yes, steve had thought they’d still be together when tommy started at harvard law.

but now steve’s starting to feel extra stupid.

“so… what? you’re breaking up with me?” steve starts to feel his chest tightening, like he might cry. he can’t believe that two hours ago he thought he’d been getting ready for a proposal.

“don’t think of it as a breakup, stevie… think of it as a conscious uncoupling. we’re just moving in two different directions. i’ll be at harvard law next semester and you’ll be…” tommy gives him a look of slight disdain—steve has never seen tommy look at him like that. waitstaff? sure. his driver? absolutely. but it’s never been directed at steve before. “well, you’ll be teaching snot-nosed six year olds. we’re on different paths.”

and that’s what truly makes steve’s blood boil. his passion for teaching and education is one of his greatest qualities and he’d thought that had been part of the reason tommy loved him. he didn’t realize that tommy loved him in spite of that. he’s not gonna let some asshole like tommy montgomery hagan iii tell him he’s no good.

so he doesn’t respond. he just takes the linen napkin off his lap and throws it on his half-eaten steak dinner and marches out of the restaurant.

tommy doesn’t even follow him out.

~*~

“oh steve… i’m sorry,” robin says to him about an hour later while steve lays his head in her lap on their dingy couch.

“it’s not even that he broke up with me,” he explains through tears. “it’s that he basically said i was worthless. like i couldn’t do anything better than teaching. as if teaching isn’t even an admirable profession! where would he be without his teachers, huh? isn’t this all about going to stupid harvard? what does he think the professors there actually do? knit?”

“is this a bad time to tell you that i always kind of hated him?” robin says, maybe trying to get him to laugh. but it kind of surprises steve. he sits up, knocking her hands from where they’ve been carding through his hair in the process.

“you did?! no, you didn’t.” he searches robin’s face for a moment and then sighs. “why didn’t you say anything? you could’ve saved me a whole lot of wasted time.”

“babe, you were so gooey-eyed for that guy, nothing i said was gonna change that. a crowbar couldn’t have pried you away from him. but you have to know he was an asshole.” when steve stares at her blankly, she huffs. “steve, he used to offer to cover the whole tab when we went out. how often did he ever actually pay, even for his own drinks? he made poor jonathan cry the last time we were all here for game night, just because jonathan asked for clarification on the rules for pictionary.” steve is still staring at her. “he tried to stiff argyle by offering him a flight on his dad’s private jet instead of paying for his weed and we all know he doesn’t even have access to the jet. dude was cheap as fuck and not even nice about it.”

steve thinks about it. it was kind of true. tommy was a horrible tipper—steve usually laid down a couple of twenties when they went to dinner together when tommy wasn’t looking. he can remember more than a few times where the guy had sent their food back even though it had looked perfectly wonderful to steve. so… okay, maybe robin had a point.

steve tells her as much, then adds, “but he was always nice to me.”

robin snorts. “are you kidding? he’s stood you up so many times i can’t even remember all of them. remember that time he said his first impression of you was that you weren’t as hot as your pictures? who says that to the person they’re dating?”

steve groans and lays his head back down in her lap.

“okay, so maybe you have a point about that too. but i was gonna marry him, rob. what do i do now?” he knows he’s whining, but he feels just a little bit entitled to it right now.

“i don’t know, babe. get over it, i guess. welcome to the world of us singles. it sucks out here.” steve can hear the fondness in robin’s voice as she says it, but still. it does sting just a little.

they sit there in silence for a while, with robin running her hands through his hair again. it’s so soothing that he almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks again.

“hey, you know what would be super funny?” she’s laughing a little as she says it.

“what?” steve had been dozing just a little and his voice sounds muffled by fatigue.

“if you got into harvard and just showed up on the first day. imagine the look on his face.”

steve laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. like he could get into harvard. plus, he’s got teaching to think about. he doesn’t have a place yet, but he knows he’ll get one soon.

but as he sits there with robin’s hands stroking through his hair, he begins to daydream about how shocked tommy would be. about how he’d have no choice but to eat his words when steve proves himself by getting into one of the most competitive programs in the country. about how good it would feel to prove the bastard wrong.

“robin?” she hums in response. “you’re a goddamn genius.”

~*~

“dingus, are you sure you want to do this?”

the spring semester starts in three days. it’s their last semester at northwestern and there’s nothing but great big darkness on the horizon of steve’s future. he hasn’t slept in two days, busy studying, thick workbooks piled around around him at the kitchen table. he knows what he must look like, over-caffeinated with bruises under his eyes.

“i’m sure.” steve has his lsat exam in one week. “i have to take the exam this week. apps are due by march first.”

“no, steve, i don’t mean taking the test. i mean applying at all. it’s clearly more stress than it’s worth. do you even want to go to law school?” robin sounds concerned and normally steve would think it’s very sweet, but currently it does nothing but irritate him.

“i could,” he responds grumpily.

robin sighs. “i just mean… is this worth it?”

steve looks up then and sees her biting her lip, clearly worried about him. he puts his pencil down and stops the timer on his phone, giving her his full attention.

“this isn’t just about tommy.” robin gives him a skeptical look and it’s his turn to sigh. “it’s really not. maybe it started out that way, maybe it was just a stupid joke to get revenge on the asshole, but now it’s more than that. it’s proving that i can do something unexpected of me.” he swallows. “no one even believed i would get into college. i was just some stupid jock in high school who’d never amount to anything. and then i got in to northwestern and i was so shocked and happy. but i found out that my dad had actually pulled a bunch of strings. so i hadn’t gotten in on my own merits. he didn’t think i could. but now…” he runs a hand through his hair nervously. he’s never said any of this out loud before. “he’s not around now. there’s no one to help me. no safety net. if i can do this, it’ll prove something to me. something that maybe i don’t really believe yet.”

he expects robin to say something about external validation being a corrupting force and identity built on academic achievement being solely a losing game, but she doesn’t. instead, she sits down across the table from him and picks up a workbook.

“okay,” she says. “what do we have to do?”

~*~

“mail here?” steve calls out when he hears the front door close behind robin.

there’s a moment that feels like a pause. “yeah, it’s here.”

steve practically sprints from his bedroom to his living room. robin holds a single white envelope in her hand. steve all but snatches it from her.

his fingers move to rip it open, but then he hesitates. he thrusts it back towards robin. “i can’t,” he tells her. “you do it.”

her eyebrows shoot up. “you’re sure?” steve nods. he watches her rip the envelope open, bouncing on his feet. she scans the page and then she’s smiling.

steve grabs the paper from her. “oh my god?!” he yells. “oh my god!”

robin practically jumps into his arms. “179, baby! harvard law here we come.”

~*~

even after such a successful run at the lsats, there’s still the little matter of actually getting in to the school. steve’s only experience with the academic application process was with undergrad and it appears that applying for anything beyond a bachelors degree is an entirely different ball game. he’s so out of his depth that he’s forced to turn to grad school message boards for advice and tips of how to get in. it seems like everyone else is applying to a hundred different schools while steve’s only applying to one. he learns this is a terrible strategy for planning one’s future, but that doesn’t really matter to steve. for him, it’s harvard or nothing.

there are so many different parts of the application that it makes steve’s head spin. there’s the statement of purpose and the personal statement—the difference between those two requires robin’s careful and slow explanation about three separate times. then there’s the writing sample and the application and the recommendations and the transcripts and and and

but with robin’s help, steve completes each component and successfully sends his materials by the day of the deadline.

steve’s never been a patient person. no one on earth would accuse him of that, so even he can tell that he’s getting on robin’s nerves every day as he practically pounces on her when she returns from collecting the mail.

and then one day, finally, at the end of april, she comes through the front door and clutched in her hand is a big, thick white envelope emblazoned with the words ‘harvard law’ in bold, beautiful crimson red.

~*~

“last chance to back out,” robin says smiling as she swings herself up into the passengers seat of their rented u-haul.

“nah.” steve returns her smile as he slides his sunglasses from his hair onto his face. “let’s get out of this dump.”

and with that, they leave their first apartment behind, headed to the coast.

[wanted to finish this completely before posting but my benadryls kicking in and i have no self control. eventual steddie, promise! no tag list for this one, sorry!! it’s giving me anxiety on the other one lol absolutely not edited, if u see a typo no u don’t. i wrote this on my phone in a feverish frenzy. also, i originally invented someone for the role of warner but then i was like ‘IDIOT!!!!! why would u not choose tommy?????’ so if there’s a name in here that shouldn’t be, no there isn’t.]

#the not as hot as ur pictures thing is a real thing my ex said to me after we’d been together for like six months lol called me ugly 😭#legally blonde au #steddie #steddie fic #steddie legally blonde au #this will EVENTUALLY be steddie if i write more lol #robin buckley #steve harrington #platonic stobin #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #i’m setting it up!!!!!#eddie will be a bartender not a law guy sorry!!!! lawyer!eddie just don’t feel right to me #steddie fanfiction #steddie blurb #guess what i watched tonight #well i also watched mean girls lol #here have this half finished thing #i wanted to finish it before posting but

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satoruwiki · 3 months

Note

Naoya nsfw and sfw relationship headcanons pleeeaasse . He's a terribly guilty pleasure and not many people write him (probably because he's a toxic sh*t)

omg anon you’re so right bc who would want an absolute toxic misogynistic fuck of a man (me, i do/j) i was supposed to post this yesterday but i forgor, sorry! btw i may or may not be working a second version of the atrocious fic i did a few days ago abt him… if its of anybody’s interest…

͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏ ♡₊˚ Naoya is the type of man to…𓈒 ˚ ⟡

content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; glimpse of the horrors you’d be going through as his partner lol

n/a: i’m making more content for naoya than my glorious blue eyed king lmao ;-;

these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

sfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… spoil you rotten. Not because you deserve it—maybe you do—but because one of Naoya’s biggest weaknesses is his pride and reputation, and yours affects his. He can’t have his gf/fiancée/wife wearing low-quality or average clothing, you have to look worthy of him (at least on the outside). So he will gift you kimonos made with the finest fabric and the finest accessories to pair with. If you’re smart enough, you might be able to take advantage of that and manipulate him to buy you whatever you want, but you better be kissing the soil he walks on afterwards.

Naoya is the type of man to… be overprotective and ridiculously jealous. You won’t be able to go out by yourself. Not without him being there or at least one of his servants, what if another man tries to have a conversation with you? What if you flirt back? He doesn’t trust you or anyone but himself. He has to make sure you aren’t fooling around. Besides, you’re so weak—or at least that’s what he thinks—you need someone to protect you. What if someone disrespects you? He can’t let that slide, the only one allowed to treat you poorly is him.

Naoya is the type of man to… secretly like your praises. He won’t tell you, of course, but he does like having someone recognizing his strength—the main reason he’s so protective of you, trying to look like a knight in shining armour—and how great he is on his day-to-day basis. He will be pissed whenever you get mad at him and don’t praise him. He won’t say it directly nor apologize for whatever he did, but you might find an ‘apology’ gift on your side of the bed. If it’s a mistake you did—which to him is always going to be your fault—an easy way to get him to be in a better mood is stroking his ego with lots of praise.

Naoya is the type of man to… expect you to be the perfect wife. Naoya is a very demanding man, he expects nothing but perfection. He expects you to always look pretty, cook, and clean, like your typical traditional wife. Being a conservative man, he will expect you to not speak when gathering with the other clansmen—or outside in general—unless you’re allowed to. It’s for your good, he’d hate for you to embarrass yourself.

Naoya is the type of man to… only marry you for benefits. In matters of love, he is quite unfeeling, however, to maintain his position as the head of the Hei, he must get married and have offspring. This burden, as he would call it, is likely to be done through an arranged marriage. Just because you were chosen over the other bachelorettes doesn't necessarily mean you're at the same level as him—you will always be below him, and perhaps unworthy of him to his eyes—but you're definitely better than the rest, or at least you were the prettiest one. You might be of use to him.

nsfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… degrade the hell out of you. Naoya’s degradation IS NOT for the weak. If he already treats you relatively poorly daily, it gets worse when he fucks you. He’s also going to fuck you rough, so don’t even try to ask him to go slower, he won’t comply. Don’t worry though, he might make sure that you cum (even to the point of overstimulating you) as it boosts up his ego, it makes him think he’s so good he can have his partner squirting for him and begging for more—this is only when he's in a good mood though, otherwise, he couldn't care less if you cum or not.

Naoya is the type of man to… head push you on purpose for you to gag on his dick. He likes the messy and filthy look on your tear streaked face and drool running down your chin, it makes him want to shoot his load on you (which he will).

Naoya is the type of man to… slap you, during or outside sex. Naoya is very ill-tempered, he’s prone to get physical and slap you (just look at how he used to bully maki and mai) or have angry sex with you. Whether it was your fault or someone else’s, he’ll blow off some steam fucking you stupid, and expect you to have bruises frequently.

Naoya is the type of man to… punish you while fucking. Like I said before, Naoya is very prone to angry sex and will punish you as he fucks you. Expect lots of choking, spitting, clit and face slapping and probably your ass bruised as well as your scalp, he wont take in consideration of his strength and yank it hard.

Naoya is the type of man to… use you as his cum dumpster. He doesn’t care if you’re in the mood or not, that’s what you’re there for, basically. He just got back from a meeting with the clansmen and he’s stressed? Get on your knees and suck him off. He's mad? Bend over or spread your legs. You better not object or make any sort of complaint, just take it like a good girl. Chances are that you end up pregnant (because he’s the type to forbid you from using birth control), he hopes it's a boy or he’s gonna blame it on you. (even if he’s the one responsible for the baby’s gender but ok)

Naoya is the type of man to… have a feet kink. I literally have no explanation for this one, just look at his face and tell me he does not have a thing for feet 😭

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #jjk smut #jjk naoya #headcanon #jjk hcs #naoya x you #zenin naoya #naoya x reader #naoya zenin #naoya smut #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk zenin

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nwjn-z · 10 months

Text

ꕥ﹐ KYLE BROFLOVSKI．﹗﹑

₊ ⊹ ⪩⪨ ┆What it is like dating Kyle Broflovski headcanons.

warning(s): nsfw, swearing

author’s note: kyle girl till the day i DIE

⎯⎯⎯ ☆

SFW☆

-Kyle is the type of boyfriend that is in love with you and only you this man is so love sick

-Kyle tends to take a more dominant role in the relationship, not necessarily in a sexual way but just in general

-Like he ties your shoelaces for you, grabs things for you that you can’t reach, carries your bag at school for you, follows the sidewalk rule (having him walk next to the road instead of you), and helping you with school work

-he’s also always tidying you up through out the day like wiping your mouth, fixing your hair, and fixing your shirts for you.

-i also feel like he also uses this as an excuse to touch you like he’ll pat the back of your bottoms as if he was dusting something off just to touch your ass

-Kyle is also very possessive and gets VERY jealous

-if he sees you on your phone he’s the type to be like “who are we texting😊”

-he has lots of insecurities that make him think you’re gonna leave him for someone “better”

-he just doesn’t want to lose you :((

-His love languages are acts of service and quality time but he also loves physical touch

-he loves holding your hand, kissing your knuckles, stroking your hair, cuddling in private, and stroking your side while he holds your waist.

-He spoils you absolutely rotten he can’t help it, Kyle is the type of person who shows you he loves you by taking care of you in anyway he can

-ie. buying you whatever snacks you want, giving you massages, cooking for you, driving you wherever you want, and just basically never letting you lift a finger to do anything

-never lets you open any door yourself

-you are passenger princess/prince ALWAYS

-he would literally make all his friends sit in the back if you’re going out with them. always makes sure his baby sits shotgun

NSFW☆

-Kyle is pretty vanilla and doesn’t really have any kinks all he really wants to do is please you

-although…he is a family man at heart and has a HORRIBLE breeding kink, constantly whispering in your ear about how “you’ll make such a good mom” and how “you’re gonna look so pretty pregnant”

-Kyle is also a very making love kind of person, he needs to have feelings before he fucks

-he’s such a giving lover he always puts you first

-on a normal day = sweet and soft sex, when he’s mad or stressed = rough sex

-his favourite positions are missionary and doggystyle

-missionary because he loves being able to see the cute faces you make while he bullies his fat cock into you while holding you like glass <3

-and doggy for when he’s angry or stressed and needs to let off steam by fucking you senseless

-Kyle can get rough in bed and I’m talking ROUGH, like leaving bruises

-hes a pretty strong guy who doesn’t realise his own strength

-LOVES receiving head, it feels so good and you look so cute trying to please him

-imagine Kyle grabbing a fistful of your hair guiding you down his length while saying things like “Fuck yeah baby just like that” and “Making me feel so good baby”

-just seeing you look up at him with the cutest doe eyes through your lashes gets him weak

-he feels so big and important when you go down on him he loves it sm 🫶

#🎬 — nwjn z!#south park #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #south park x reader #kyle broflovski headcanons #kyle x reader #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski x you

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sykestarot · 6 months

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what attracts people to you?

1-2-3 (left to right)

I do not own any of these images

Hi guys I'm back for this weeks reading! Thanks so much for all the love on the other post it really means a lot! I hope these messages resonate as well. Thanks for stopping by yet again! :)

Pile 1

"Just wondering when you said I'm beautiful, was I being lied to?"

(2 of swords (rx); ace of cups; 5 of swords; 4 of swords (rx); queen of pentacles; 2 of cups (rx)) I’m feeling for you pile one that you don’t believe that you’re attractive at all, energetically or physically. Like people would always prefer someone else other than you. Quite literally how the song title is opposite, you believe people are only attracted to the types of people who are opposite of you. Which is so obviously not true because so many people are attracted to you. I don’t know if you think more people value stability over spontaneity. But your cards imply that you are a free spirit and people love that about you. Not only are you a free spirit but you also are hard working. You aren’t one of those people that says they're a free spirit as an excuse to do nothing. I’m feeling that you carry this abundant energy of like “I want it, I got it”. And people just want to stay in that energy. You also have a resilience that people see and it makes them admire you but also want to learn from you. Your energy is truly so beautiful. I see that you might have long hair with beautiful waves to it. Perhaps you’re tan or have a darker complexion. You’re the type of person who loves doing hikes and smelling the fresh air outside. I also see beaches and a boho style to you. Lots of whites and vibrant blues as well. Perhaps you’re Greek or some type of southern European. I see that you also have doe eyes and people find them to be mesmerizing. As well as your smile. I don't know why you don’t think you’re attractive because the vibes I'm getting are that you’re a stunner!! I hope one day you can learn to appreciate the qualities in yourself that others see! Signs : Athens, Greece, kitties, pasta, the smell of pine orange and vanilla, woven hats, big sunglasses, kites, hang gliders?, laughs, melted ice cream, strawberry scents, lip gloss, glitter, flamingos, Sagittarius

Pile 2

"She's got a halo around her finger around you" (The world; 5 of swords (rx); the high priestess; knight of pentacles (rx); 9 of wands (rx); the hierophant) Pile two you are my pile that knows people are attracted to you and use it to your advantage. Which is so real of you but also so slay. And this is not to say that you use your beauty to gain things in a negative way. It’s more like you know the cards that you were dealt and you’d be damned if you didn't use them. I feel like this is my Scorpio pile. Something about you is mysterious and that entices people to want to get to know you better. I feel like you are like a real life siren. The way you speak or the tone of your voice ensares people and draws them right to you. You also have a fated energy or destiny really plays a role in your life. To the point where people want to be in your life because they think they might be able to get some of whatever you have. You might also be witchy and cast spells or work with guides to make things go your way in life. You co create with spirit for sure. I feel like you guys have a contrasting appearance, like pale skin dark hair, or darker skin and lighter hair. I feel like your eyes are piercing like they are hunting prey and people love feeling like they are hunted by you. I see you being very chiseled whether that’s in the body or the face. You have a striking appearance for sure. The kind that people do double takes on the street. You might get a lot of losers who want to talk to you because your energy and appearance are so intoxicating. I also feel like you’re overall just very bold. Perhaps Aries as well? I also feel like anything said in this reading you already know about yourself lol. Signs : Osprey; Seahawks (football); Megan Fox; vampires; red lisp; metal; silver; motorcycles; the twilight saga?; Jennifer’s Body; clubbing; latex; Washington State; black hair; blue eyes

Pile 3

"I know she's gonna break my heart"

(8 of cups; 7 of wands (rx); page of pentacles; the moon; the hanged man (rx); the lovers) You, my pile three, are the heartbreaker, soul stealer, sad girl pile. People are attracted to you because people want to fix you, not necessarily that you need to be fixed to be honest. It’s more in the sense that you don’t care about them more than you care about yourself. It’s like they want to teach how to love or be the one that changes you. Which to me is so funny because it’s not that you don’t know how to love it’s that you don’t love them lmfao. You don’t entertain many suitors or people in general and so when you do give people your energy it’s special. However with how selective you are it makes people want to know more about your inner world. But you come off so nonchalant that people want to get a reaction out of you. You have the potential to feed people’s hero/savior complex if you actually like them back. I also feel like your sense of style is alternative or goth and that’s also what brings people to you. I’m getting retired emo’s or lil peep/suicide boy fans. Perhaps your taste in music also attracts people. I feel like you’re social media and the way you present yourself really gets people wanting to know you more. You’re very mysterious but I'm getting in more of an Aquarius or Pisces way. I feel like you like having dramatic makeup on or you have a very out there style. I keep seeing, like cyber goth or emo. I’m not super well versed in those genres of style so I hope you get it lol. Maybe you have lip rings or eyebrow piercings. Anyways you’re very unique and that’s what attracts people to you. I also feel like you’re always doing cool and new stuff and people are attracted to you because you’re a trendsetter in a lot of ways. Maybe you have a following on a social media platform? Idk I feel like people watch you via the internet. Signs: anime; jjk; tik tok; silver metals; lip biting; rilakuma; pastel pinks; black; stripes; oversized sweaters; skirts and thigh highs; leg warmers; big chunky shoes; platform boots; johnny guilbert?; music holds importance here

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starkwlkr · 1 year

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Could you do one where Ruby is dating someone and she really likes him and Charles approves of him but Ruby finds out that he was only with her to get to her dad and she blames her dad for the fame and hates that he’s famous but they make up :)) Sorry it’s long i love your writing❤️

don’t fall in love | charles leclerc

ruby defender until i dieeeee‼️‼️

Ruby adored her boyfriend, Mason, with her whole heart. At just sixteen years old, Ruby had declared Mason the love of her life. Y/n thought that was a bit too early for her to even think that, but Ruby was convinced that she and Mason were going to end up married. She was blinded by love. She couldn’t tell that their relationship was always a one sided love, that Mason saw her as just Charles Leclerc’s daughter. Even her twelve year old brother, Mathéo, could see that Mason only cared about one thing and that was fame.

Growing up, Ruby’s every move was captured by the paparazzi. It was the downside of having a famous father. She learned to ignore it, but sometime it was just too much. Mason saw it as an opportunity to ‘make a name for himself’. He was counting down the days for when he went from ‘Ruby Leclerc’s boyfriend’ to ‘Mason, Charles Leclerc’s son in law’ or something like that. For him, it would be a dream to be part of the Leclerc family, so when he was finally invited to his first F1 race, he posted it all over social media.

It was during the British Grand Prix that Ruby finally found out the horrible truth.

She had picked out a cute outfit wanting to impress Mason. The boy didn’t bother giving her one compliment all day. She brushed it off thinking he was tired from the flight. Mason’s ‘tiredness’ was long gone once they entered the paddock. Photographers recognized Ruby and called her name out. Mason took the opportunity to put his arm around her shoulder and fake a smile.

“Where’s your dad?” Mason asked as they walked towards the Ferrari hospitality.

“I’m not sure. I think he’s in the garage.” Ruby replied.

“Let’s go say hi. I want to wish him good luck before the race.” Mason practically dragged Ruby towards the Ferrari garage.

Ruby said hello to the Ferrari engineers while Mason dragged her by her hand to where Charles was. He was talking with Y/n, who held Mathéo’s hand since he was shy when it came to race days.

“Papa!” Ruby greeted her father with a kiss on both cheeks.

“Hey, man. Good luck. I’m sure you’ll get your points today.” Mason said to Charles.

Charles liked Mason. He was responsible, nice and most of all, he was respectful to his little girl. Good qualities for Ruby’s first boyfriend.

Y/n had noticed that Ruby tried to talk with Charles, but Mason kept cutting her off. She was 50/50 on Mason. He seemed like a nice guy, but as Y/n got to know him better, his true colors started showing.

“Maman, can we got to the roof? I like it better there.” Mathéo asked.

“Of course, my beautiful boy. Ruby, want to join your brother and i on the roof?” Y/n asked her daughter.

“Uh, let me ask Mason if he wants to go.” Ruby replied, but she could barely get Mason’s attention. He was too busy talking about tyres with Charles. Ruby felt embarrassed. She couldn’t even get her own boyfriend’s attention.

“We’ll be on the roof,” Y/n said to Ruby. She turned to Charles, who definitely payed attention to his wife. “Good luck, love. I love you.” Y/n kissed Charles’ lips then kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Mon amour. And where are you going, mon petit garçon?” (My little boy) Charles looked at his son. “Take care of your maman, okay?” He kissed Mathéo’s forehead. Mathéo nodded and hugged his father. Soon, the mom and son were on the way to the paddock roof.

“My mom and brother are going up to the roof. Would you like to go? It’s a great view. You get to see the pitstop-” Mason cut off Ruby.

“Can’t we stay in the garage?” Mason asked.

“We can, but-”

“Great. Hey, so what’s your next helmet design?” Mason went back to talking with Charles.

Ruby nodded. She looked around the garage she had been in a million times. Same team, same car, same tyres, same everything. At least she had Mason. (For now)

When the race started, she and Mason were handed their headsets. They watched as Charles had started on pole with Max right behind him.

Ruby had enough of racing. She had seen it on tv and in real life many times so she was a bit bored. Mason, on the other hand, was enjoying every second of it. When Charles almost made contact with Max, he shouted as if he was the team principal. Some Ferrari team members were even looking at him funny.

“It’s his first race.” Ruby whispered to them. She then looked at Mason. “Calm down. You’re getting weird looks.”

“Babe, it’s f1. You can’t calm down when f1 is involved.” Mason replied.

Ruby sighed. She took her headset off and walked to her father’s drivers room. She sat on the small bed and took out her phone. As she scrolled through instagram, she got a message from a school friend.

‘Isn’t this your boyfriend?’ They had sent a screenshots of Mason’s close friends list.

Team redbull? Secured paddock passes for life? Ruby had enough.

‘Ex-boyfriend. We broke up.’ She texted back.

‘Ok queen. Drag him’

And that’s exactly what Ruby did.

She knew Mason wouldn’t leave the garage mid race so she thought of the perfect way to get him out.

‘Hey, babe! Lewis Hamilton is outside! He says he wants to meet you.’

Lewis had retired from racing so using him was perfect. It didn’t take long for Mason to be right outside the garage wondering where Lewis Hamilton was.

“Hey, where’s Lewis? I want him to sign my phone case.” Mason said when he saw Ruby.

“He’s not here and he’s sure as hell not signing any of your shit.” Ruby glared.

“Okay we’ll I’m going back to watch the race.” Mason tried walking back into the garage, but Ruby stepped infront of him. “Babe, move. Your dad is still p1. We’ve got to support him.”

“You’re not going in. This is for the Ferrari family only, which you’re not apart of. Go see if that redbull girl will let you into their garage.”

Mason started laughing. “That’s what you’re mad about? Baby, I was joking! I’m a Ferrari fan all the way. Now, come on, let’s go watch your dad win.”

“No. You’re not welcome here or at any race ever again.” Ruby said. “Give me the pass and get out.”

“You don’t mean that, babe. You’re just tired from the flight. Take a nap and we’ll talk later.” Mason was about to put a hand on her shoulder, but she quickly punched his face. “What the fuck! Shit!” He held his bloody nose.

“I said get out!” Ruby yelled then ripped the paddock pass from his neck.

“You’re a fucking bitch anyways!” Mason yelled back as he walked away to the exit.

Ruby kept an eye on him until he actually left the paddock. She then noticed a few photographers and team members from Aston Martin and Alpine looking at her. “What?” She asked them harshly. They continued walking, afraid that Ruby might punch them next.

“Stupid boys.” She muttered as she walked to the paddock roof where she finally joined her mother and brother. She spent the rest of the race wishing she never let Mason make her fall in love. She hated herself for that.

“Papa! He won!” Mathéo jumped from his mother’s lap. “We need to see the ceremony! Let’s go!” The boy whined.

“You saw the ceremony last week, Mathéo! Nothing changed.” Ruby coldly said.

“Ruby Jules, apologize to your brother. Don’t be mad at him for being excited.” Y/n scolded the teen girl.

“What? It’s the truth. Dad is on the podium every race with uncle Max and uncle Carlos. It’s a stupid ceremony anyways with stupid trophies and stupid Ferrari.” Ruby mumbled. When she had enough, she got up and walked back down.

“She said stupid three times, maman.” Mathéo said.

“I know and don’t say that. You know grand-mère doesn’t like those kind of words.”

After the ceremony, Y/n had told Charles what had happened with Ruby so he told his wife he would talk to Ruby.

“It has to do with Mason so please don’t say anything . . . stupid.” Y/n whispered the last part since Mathéo was around and if she said it she would look like the world biggest hypocrite.

“Okay, I won’t. I’ll meet you at the teams hospitality.” Charles said and kissed his wife once more before leaving to find his daughter.

He was told by Fred that he saw Ruby enter his driver’s room so he headed towards the said room. He knocked three times before he opened the door. Charles saw Ruby sitting on a chair scrolling on her phone. She remained silent, clearly angry at everything.

“I saw you weren’t at the ceremony.” Charles said. “I didn’t see Mason either.”

“Mason can go to hell.”

“Okay, what did he do to my little girl?”

Ruby groaned. “He wouldn’t have done anything if it weren’t for you! Why did you have to be a f1 driver! You could’ve been an architect or a stay at home dad. Mason was only with me to get to you, dad. And not just Mason, so many people at school want to be ‘friends’ because of my last name. I should’ve taken mom’s last name.”

Charles watched as Ruby stormed out of the room, leaving the door open. He knew how being in the spotlight was for her. He tried to keep her away from the media, but it was impossible now that she was grown.

“Hey, Y/n is asking for you.” He heard an engineer tell him.

“Thank you.” He mumbled as he exited his driver’s room. He could feel a couple of stares from the team, but he ignored them. He spotted Y/n and Mathéo by his car since Charles had promised the boy he could sit in it. “She hates me. Again.” Charles told Y/n. “She said she’d rather have your last name than mine.”

“I’ll talk to her. Théo wants you.” Y/n sighed. She left Charles and Théo as she went to look for Ruby. An Alpine engineer had told her Ruby’s location, which was their teams hospitality. She entered and saw Ruby sitting by herself eating ice cream.

“Your father told me that you don’t like being a Leclerc.” Y/n sat beside Ruby.

“I didn’t mean it. I just . . . I just want something normal. Mason was only with me because of my famous dad.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Boys are jerks, believe me.” Y/n comforted the girl.

“Even dad?”

“Sometimes.” Y/n lightly chuckled.

“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to tell me not to tell him?”

“No, he knows.”

Ruby cracked a smile. “I feel like a jerk. I love being a Leclerc. I love my family, maman. What if dad hates me forever and then I can’t go back home and I have to live on the street?”

“You’re so dramatic, Ruby Jules, I can’t tell if you get that from me or your father.” Y/n said.

“Definitely both of you, but Charles is extremely dramatic.” She heard Pierre say as he placed a kiss on Ruby’s temple. “At least you don’t need a dna test for this one.”

“Why are you here?”

“You’re in the Alpine hospitality and you’re asking why I’m here?”

“Bye, Pierre!” Y/n practically pushed him away so she could continue her talk with Ruby. “Your father knows how much you love him and he would never put you on the street.”

“He might.”

“He won’t.”

“But he could.”

“He’s not.”

“But-”

“You kids are going to be the death of me,” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Sorry, force of habit, you know how uncle Arthur and I are.” Ruby apologized. “I have to find dad.”

Eventually Ruby did apologize to Charles for saying she wished she wasn’t a Leclerc. In the end, the family agreed that Mason was an asshole and Charles even managed to ban him from any race from both f1 and f2. Nobody was mean to his kids and Mason had crossed the line.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #anon #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 x reader #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc imagine

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padawansuggest · 6 months

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Okay so I want to make an arranged marriage AU for Obi-Wan/Jango. But like. Instead of it being all ‘neither of us want this’ it’s a contract that they both willingly signed and honestly it was obsession at first sight.

Lemme explain.

See, Stewjon (ruled by King Yoda and his mess of adopted kids, so adoption is very common on the planet and they don’t even mind that Prince Jango already has kids) is a peaceful little world that cares about arts, parties, and farming. It’s a mixture of fun and practical. Most Mandalorians think it’s kinda shallow, but fun for party weekends to run off to. A lot of New Mandalorians that still hate the republic send their kids off to school there.

Obi-Wan is 25 minutes late to the meeting and Jango is all ‘you know what, I can handle not having to entertain him, clearly he’s got better things to do Lmao, this marriage will be easy’ and then the next minute someone flings open the meeting room doors, and you can just SEE Prince Qui-Gon’s face fall. He’s been toting the qualities of his baby son for the whole time they’ve been there, talking about the art degrees the kid has (Obi likes painting and sculpting in canon okay) and Jango is all ‘that’s great, he can paint his own wedding armor I’m sure it’ll be lovely’ and about how Obi-Wan is great with kids and loves to read ‘that’s great, he can entertain my father AND son at the same time’

And then the door slams open, and in comes a wild looking Xanatos, physically dragging a snarling young man who’s trying to bite through Xanatos’s wrist.

‘DAD HES TRYING TO REMOVE MY HAND’

‘Oh my. He’s not normally so… violent.’

‘THATS A FUCKING LIE AND YOU KNOW IT’

Anyways, Obi-Wan is eventually soothed into submission when Jango, who can’t stop laughing, asks if Obi-Wan really finds him so distasteful, cause he can just leave if so. Obi-Wan, after pulling his slightly bloody mouth off his brother’s arm with an air of dainty sweetness, just licks his chops and mentions Xanatos told him the Mandalorians would take away his pet Varactyl because they wouldn’t want Boga running around the city.

Jango just laughs even harder and tells him he can have whatever big dangerous pets he wants to. Obi-Wan gets up to go meet his new future husband and inform him that he would like a nexu. Jango says yes but also gifts him a new virodagger that makes Obi-Wan squeal about how pretty it is.

Jaster expected them to leave the planet with a very tenacious plan for breaking off the marriage but instead Jango is sighing lovingly and telling his new beloved that they shan’t be parted for much longer. Lovesick strill pups at first sight.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #jangobi #give me an arranged marriage where they immediately decide it’s gonna be awesome #Jango thinks Obi is cute all covered in blood and lookin sweet #Obi wants to ride Jango’s face that’s a nice face #he’s also indulgent and has a nice laugh and willing to let him keep his girl boga so those are important too #but that’s a nice face right there #stewjon is now actually the kingdom of the Jedi lol they’re still Jedi just weirder #boga is their flower girl #she lets boba and omega ride on her back down the aisle #also Obi is very feral he nuzzles Jango in greeting like a cat #feral obi wan

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elliots-an-idiot · 1 month

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Heloooooooo!🙌 How ya doing? I hope you’re having a *lovely* day! Seeing as you’re opening your inbox, I’m just gonna…leave this here ;)!

*leaves scroll*

What do you reckon the Dimis would think of forms of affection? Hand holding, kissing, cuddling, quality time, etc. do you think they’d approve of such displays in public, or just in the privacy of their room? A bit of good old fluff. Feel free to ignore it if it doesn’t take your pick!🙌

See ya :)!

🧁- anon

Hiii! This is an amazing ask :3 I love them so much and EAUGH I WANNA CUDDLE ALL OF THEM!!!! You said the dimis so I’m gonna include alcina :3 this is pure filthy fluff heheheheh :333

Content warning for minor (sfw) knife play. Also blood drinking…. They’re vampires.

The Dimitrescus preferences on affection with their s/o

Alcina 🍷

She enjoys being able to hold you, whether it’s on her lap while she works, or cuddled into her chest while you sleep.

Her hands are… well… gigantic. Which makes “regular” hand holding difficult. But she loves it when you intertwine your fingers with hers during particularly aggravating calls with Miranda.

She is, obviously, the big spoon. Which neither of you mind. She always holds you close to her while sleeping, she likes the feeling of protecting you. Shielding you from any dangers that may lurk outside of her arms.

She prefers to keep anything longer than a peck in private however. Unless of course, she’s showing someone that you’re hers. In which case you can expect to be lifted/pressed up against the nearest wall for her to make out with you.

She loves having her hair played with/her head scratched while laying with you, especially after a long/stressful day. She also likes having her back/shoulders massaged

She isn’t clingy like her daughters, but she loves being able to have you near her. When she’s working she likes to have you in her lap. You’re like a stress reliever to her.

She loves being able to lift and hug you, or lean down to press kisses to your head. She likes the way you look up at her after, it makes her feel like a goddess.

She loves it when you dance with her, you’ll often have dates in the castle, and her favourite place to bring you is always the opera hall. The two of you dance for hours, just basking in each others presence.

She always makes sure to reserve time in her day to be with you, no matter what. She even hung up on Miranda once after she “took too much of our time”

When she gets thirsty (not like that you horny bastard) she pulls you onto her lap and gently tilts your head to the side, she always peppers kisses down your throat before drinking from you.

She loves you so much, and makes sure you know that. Whether it be through words or actions, you always know how much you mean to her.

Some pet names she likes to use for you are dragâ (darling), iubire (love), little one, and pet.

Bela 📚

She, like her mother, loves having you with her while she works. She says your presence calms her during especially stressful days, your scent specifically helps.

She likes to have you on her lap, not during formal events or dinner of course. But when you’re reading together in the library she’ll pull you onto her and wrap her arms around you.

She loves it when you bury your head into the crook of her neck to press a gentle kiss to her throat, which normally leads to her squeaking and getting flustered. Only when you’re alone though, she thinks it’s “improper”.

She absolutely loves having her hair played with. Untangle her hair with your fingers? She’s a blushing mess.

She loves massages, getting them and giving them. You better believe homegirl is practically a professional at them.

She likes sitting next to you whenever possible, she always intertwines her fingers with yours. She loves being able to hold you, even if it’s subtle.

She has a busy schedule, to the point that she often forgets to eat. So when you walk into her office after a long day and offer up your neck? She practically melts, before hugging you tight and telling you how much you mean to her.

She normally hates giving you anything more than a gentle peck when in public, but please expect to be pushed up against the nearest surface as soon as you’re alone.

She loves it when you rest your head on her chest, or vice versa.

She’s bad with words, especially when you first start dating, but she always shows you how much she loves you. Her favourite way to do so is by taking care of you, bringing you a snack when she smells you getting hungry (blood sugar maybe?), or reading to you when you’re sad.

She loves calling you little one, darling, dragâ, and dove.

Cassandra ⚔️

Cassandra hates doing anything that could make her seem weak or soft in public. So hugs, hand holding, cuddling? Absolutely not.

She can and will push you up against the nearest wall to make out with you. She likes knowing that other people see, so that they know you belong to her.

But in private? You can’t convince me she wouldn’t love having her hair played with, and if you scratch her scalp? She will moan.

She’s not used to gentle displays of affection, especially at the beginning of your relationship. But after she warms up to it? She loves it, privately of course.

She especially enjoys having you sit in her lap while she’s sharpening her weapons. Often using your skin to test if they’re good enough, if she doesn’t smell blood as soon as she presses it up against you it’s not sharp enough.

She loves your blood, everything about it, so when she comes home from a particularly annoying hunt and finds you on her bed with your neck exposed for her? She growls before swarming right on top of you.

After drinking from you, she likes to lay on top of you and bury her face in your neck savouring your scent and taste.

Normally, if you’re alone, she likes to intertwine her fingers with yours or pull you onto her lap.

Shockingly, she’s incredibly clingy. Not so much as Dani, but still, very clingy. So if you’re especially busy or have to make a trip into town on any given day she’ll whine and complain until you get back.

She loves it when you trace her scars, she’ll often tell you the stories of how she “won” them to calm you down if you’re upset. She often tells you stories of her hunts, not only to introduce you to that part of her, but to analyse your expression for any hint of fear.

She often falls asleep on top of you, she likes how warm you are, and being able to protect you.

Cass is horrible with her words. Like. Horrible. Before you started dating she called you her blood bag… to flirt. She is b a d with expressing how much she loves you. So she shows you. She often kills maids who are rude to you and gifts you certain parts of them. After the fourth pair of eyes you had to explain to her organs weren’t exactly a gift you could keep. So she started bringing you teeth.

She likes calling you pet, little one, doll, morsel, snack,and (sigh) blood bag

Daniela 💌

She absolutely loves physical affection, and she truly doesn’t care what other people think. She constantly has to be touching you, or she will whine until she is.

Obviously, she’s the most clingy of her family, and the best cuddler. Like, are you sad? Bonk, Dani’s got ya.

You can’t convince me she wouldn’t love to sit in your lap to read, she loves it. She often reads aloud to you when you’re upset, and loves the same being done for her.

She loves it when you hold her, whether it be her hand, or her thigh, she constantly wants your hand on her.

She loves hugging you, like, absolutely loves it. She loves feeling your arms wrap around her and hold her to you, she says it makes her feel calm. I swear to the gods a hug from this girl could probably cure my depression.

She wants to spend as much time as physically possible with you every single day, which often leads to you not finishing your work.

When she’s particularly hungry, she loves pulling you against her before burying her head into the crook of your neck and inhaling as much of your scent as she can. She always marks you up before drinking from you, to show everyone you’re hers.

During the colder months, she enjoys nestling under a pile of blankets with you. Often giggling when you squeak at the feeling of her freezing hands against your sides.

She loves kissing you, it doesn’t matter to her who sees, all that she cares about if being able to feel your lips on hers.

She loves being treated like a princess, bow for her or twirl her? She is squealing and giggling in delight.

She loves spending time with you while reading, but, (when it’s warm enough out for her to go outside) she often drags you out to the garden to make flower crowns together.

She loves sleeping curled into you, with her arm flung around your waist and her head buried in your shoulder.

She like calling you more cheesy and romantic pet names, and expects the same from you. She calls you things like my love, dearest, sweetheart, little human, and her Knight. (If you call her princess she will melt)

That’s all! I hope you like this :3 thank you for my first ever ask :3

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #🧁 anon

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jjkamochoso · 15 days

Text

Pretty as a Picture

Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Fluff

When you’re exploring Marley with Levi and co., you find yourself enthralled with some new technology…

Warnings: cussing

When you and the others left for Marley, you had no idea what you were getting yourselves into. You were terrified that the outside world was going to be a vision of disaster and leave your high expectations completely unmet. However, when the boat began to dock at the port and you got a glimpse of the bustling city, you practically had stars in your eyes.

“Hange! This is so exciting! Look at all the new developments!” you gushed, taking in the foreign sights. They agreed wholeheartedly, rambling about certain things they had read about over the years that were going to be investigated today. Levi wanted to roll his eyes at your over the top excitement, but he had to admit he was very curious about life in Marley as well. As the boat started letting people off, you nervously ran your fingers over your outfit, desperately trying to straighten out the high quality fabric of your disguise.

“Are you trying to impress these people or something? Stop fussing. You look fine,” Levi said, leading the way off the boat without giving you a second glance. You looked at Hange, who just shrugged their shoulders and ran after Levi. You and the Survey Corps captain were in the newer stages of a relationship. You had known him for years, rising up the ranks together, and had shared a close bond for most of that time. Not too long ago, you both realized your relationship held the element of attraction for one another and after an awkward confession from the both of you, your deep companionship turned into a budding romance. It was all new territory for both parties, neither of you having much experience in the dating department, and the two of you were trying to figure out the right balance between your old selves and new title as lovers. You tried not to worry too much; Levi didn’t seem the type to break up with someone. If he chose to be with you in a romantic way after being your friend for so long, you’d most likely be together long after your bodies were consumed by the soil of your shared grave.

You hurried off the boat, your party waiting for you with anxiousness to get the trip started. On solid ground once more, Levi took his usual spot next to you. You smiled internally at the gesture. This relationship would have no hand holding (for the foreseeable future), but his closeness, akin to a guard dog, was better than that. Out of the corner of your eye came a flash and both of your heads whipped around to see what it was.

“Hange!” You pointed to the area from which it came, “What is that?”

“That’s a camera! It makes photographs like the one we saw in Eren’s basement,” they explained.

“So cool,” you breathed out. “What I wouldn’t give to have one.”

You suddenly found yourself being dragged over to the camera, Levi having an iron grip on the extra fabric of your sleeve.

“My partner wants one photograph, please,” he told the man working the contraption.

The man laughed a little, clearly figuring out you weren’t from the area. “One photograph, huh? That’s quite alright.” He turned to address you. “You can sit right here and pose.”

You nodded, slightly nervous but trembling with excitement as Levi handed the man the money.

“I’m going to count to three and when the flash is over, you’ll be good to go.”

You weren’t quite sure exactly what to do with your body as the man started his count but when you saw Levi watching you intently, you relaxed and broke out into the biggest smile. The flash went off and you were told to wait a few minutes for the photograph to be ready.

“Oh! Sir? May I please have one more? I would like one of my boyfriend,” you said, looking at Levi expectantly.

His eyes went wide, shaking his head. “No way. Your memory isn’t that shitty to where you’ll need one of these to remember what I look like, is it?”

You gave him the biggest puppy eyes and poutiest face you could muster. “Please, Levi? For me?”

He sighed, giving the cameraman more money. “Fine. But you have to be in it with me, brat.”

You cheered when he stood next to you, you on the seat once more, and you could tell he was nervous.

“Just relax and look at the circle in front of you. You don’t have to smile or anything if you don’t want, just think of a positive memory or place. That way it’ll look natural.”

As the man did his countdown, Levi frantically tried his best to look comfortable and right before the flash went off, he knew exactly what to do.

During your wait for the photos you heard commotion from the group about “ice cream” so of course you bounded over, Levi trailing behind you. When you got your hands on the treat, you took a big bite of it which was a huge mistake.

“It’s so cold! My teeth! Ouch!” you exclaimed, your mouth open as you tried to fan it out. Levi watched you complain to the teens that they didn’t give you a fair warning that it was freezing, a small smile on his face.

“Tch, give me that. You’re going to drop it,” he said, taking the cone from you. Learning from you the wrong way to eat it, he snuck a taste using just the tip of his tongue. It was cold, sweet, and a total waste of money—but if you liked it, he would gladly bring home the entire cart and the recipe. With plans to meet back up with everybody after you got your photographs, you and Levi headed over to the cameraman.

“That was very kind of you to let me get those taken,” you told him. “And I love that you did one with me. That means a lot, you know.”

“It’s no problem,” he muttered, eyeing every passerby so that they didn’t get any ideas of messing with you. His time in the Underground made it so that he hated being in large groups of people, crooks and crime always lurking about in those environments. He certainly didn’t want you to be swept up in any of it either, so his senses had been on high alert the entire trip. Thankfully that was the case or else right now you’d be splayed on the ground, grievously injured. Not from a criminal, but from some machine called a “car.” You two had to cross the street to get back to the cameraman but in your haste, you had forgotten there were technological advances you weren’t used to roaming around the city. You stepped off the sidewalk, chatting about something called a “balloon,” when a car came careening down the road, going much too fast for a busy pedestrian area. Levi had noticed it in the nick of time, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you out of harm’s way. He couldn’t even find it within himself to yell at the driver, too concerned for your well being.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hurriedly looking you over for injuries.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but,” you pointed sadly to the ground where your ice cream lost its life, “my ice cream isn’t.”

That earned a Levi eye roll. “Forget the food. If you keep up this carelessness, the photograph is the only thing I’ll have left of you after this trip.”

You sighed since he was right, as always. “I’m sorry.”

“Just pay attention. I’d hate for you to survive everything we’ve been through just to get taken out by some horse wannabe.”

You burst out laughing, Levi unintentionally lifting the mood. He never thought of himself as an overly funny guy but the way he had you gasping for breath after a hard hitting sarcastic remark would’ve made anyone certain he was a comedian.

The man with the camera handed you the finished products and you excitedly examined your solo one.

“Levi! Look! It’s my face!” You shoved the photograph toward him and he looked it over.

“It is, isn’t it?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement and wonder. He tucked it into his hat for safekeeping (and he kept it on his person every day after that so you were always together; it had miraculously survived the blast from Zeke). When you saw the photograph of the both of you, you were at a loss for words.

“We look so… pretty. Happy. Normal.”

Levi caught a glance and hummed in agreement. He was ecstatic that his actions translated well through the camera. When the flash was about to go off, he had placed his hand on your shoulder.

“What?” you had asked him, turning away from the camera to look at him, thinking he had a question. Instead, you were greeted with steel blue eyes that were gazing lovingly at you, while Levi’s lips were curled into a soft smile. He was the epitome of handsome and you had practically melted, lovesickness etched all over your features and the camera flashed, capturing it forever.

“I’m keeping this one since you have the other one,” you said, tucking it in your chest pocket. “Me and my shitty memory want to make sure we remember this forever.”

You nudged Levi in a teasing manner and he just shook his head. Finding your way back to Hange, you felt a sense of peace wash over you that you didn’t think would be possible in foreign lands, and that was all thanks to Levi. Even if you didn’t always express your love in the most conventional ways, he proved his loyalty and trust in you time and time again. You hoped your photographs would be preserved and serve as proof that the so called island devils weren’t evil after all—they were people, too. People who could laugh and smile.

People who could love.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi fluff #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman

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auteurdelabre · 11 days

Text

SO MUCH TO LOSE part 10 - dark!Joel x f!reader

rating: 18+

words: 7.5k

TW: HEAVY EMOTIONAL CHAPTER. MENTIONS OF TRAUMA. Allusions to oral sex, m receiving, allusions to f/m penetrative sex.

a/n: I told y'all this chapter's a doozy. Well it is, but maybe not for the reasons you think. . . To me its one of the most important chapters of this whole story.

series masterlist

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

-----------------------------

SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 10

You visit Maria the following week with a plate of cookies in hand. She’s the one to answer the door and you are relieved when you see that she is showered and dressed. Things must be improving. She brings you into a tentative hug when you arrive, urging you inside out of the fresh dusting of snow.

“Tommy has Douglas out for a little walk. I’ll make you a coffee.”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Just came to drop off some baking. I’m heading to Ellie’s later this week and needed to get some practice in. I haven’t done much baking lately and wanted to make sure I wasn’t rusty.”

You join her on the couch, watching as she wraps her hands tightly around her coffee mug. She takes tentative sips between munches of cookie. At the first bite she literally moans.

“This is so good.”

“Thanks. They were Charlotte’s favorite.”

Maria licks the crumbs from her lips before leaning back on the sofa. She’s always been slender and she looks almost as she did back before she gave birth, except for the small pouch at her lower belly. You think she looks better with it.

“Was Charlotte your daughter?”

“Oh no. I never had kids.”

“We’re you ever married?”

“Me?” you almost laugh. “No.”

“Oh,” Maria blinks and her mouth tugs to the side. “I thought you might be. You have a nurturing quality about you.”

“I think you give me too much credit.”

Maria grins, taking another bite of cookie. The two of you chat amiably a bit about the changing weather, of the way the inhabitants of Jackson City get along so well. Of how she feels the pressure of being Jacksons’ ‘First Lady’. Of how the bandits that fuck with the dam that supports the city stresses her daily.

“It’s a fucking nightmare some days,” she cites with a grumble. “Thank goodness for Tommy.”

“He’s a good man,” you tell her.

“He is,” she smiles indulgently before shooting you a lingering look. “What do you think about Joel?”

“How do you mean?”

“You do patrols with him, right?”

“Can’t say I was always his biggest fan,” she says, taking another sip from her mug. “But he’s grown on me.”

“Yeah.”

You hold in the scoff that’s already begun in your throat.

“My friend Jennifer seems to think he’s pretty wonderful,” you offer instead. “She was delighted to help him repair the window last week.”

“She the blonde one? Used to do textiles?” Maria knows everyone thanks to her position.

“Yeah.”

“Not his type,” Maria insists with a shy grin. “She’d eat him alive.”

Jennifer doesn’t seem like she would eat anyone alive.

“Joel is all harsh edges,” she explains when she sees your confusion. “He needs someone soft to balance him out. That Jennifer girl is hard.”

You don’t think that you would consider Jennifer hard and you don’t fight Maria on it because the conversation quickly turns to Jackson’s continued increase of population, the place swelling with new life.

“Plenty of single men,” Maria says with a quirked brow in your direction. You give a soft laugh.

“Not really interested.”

“Single women too.”

“No no,” you laugh again, cheeks pinking. “I like men, I just . . . I don’t think I’m the partnering type.”

You think of Luke and his sweet features and his muscled forearms. For him you could perhaps be the partnering type. Perhaps. The thought of romance appeals to you; it just doesn’t seem realistic at times. A crush feels fun and safe.

“You must have had your share of dates,” Maria insists. You can see her relaxing and you think she must be enjoying what she views as girl time. You think she must not have had much of it lately.

“Normal crushes and stuff,” you shrug. “But I was a late bloomer and then the outbreak started when I was a teenager so I didn’t have a chance for a lot of firsts back then.”

“Sex,” Maria nods.

“Uh yeah… that…” you say, trying to appear nonchalant. “And uh, kissing, dating, all that stuff.”

“But you did eventually,” Maria cites smiling.

“Sex? Oh yes,” you nod. You weren’t a monk or anything in your time before Jackson City.

“What was your first time like?” Maria settles back against a cushion, nibbling at her cookie looking at you eagerly. “I remember mine was all fumbling in the backseat of his truck before curfew.”

You laugh and think Maria must be starved for company to be intrigued by your limited romantic experience.

“Uh… fast,” you say with a laugh before allowing yourself to be transported back to that time. “He worked at one of the bakeries that I assisted in. I remember he had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen on a man. They were so blond you could only see them if he turned at a certain angle. He made me laugh. One night he invited me back to his apartment and… that was that.”

“How old were you?”

“Uh, twenty two, twenty three?”

“And you didn’t date after?”

“Nah, my family left that QZ kinda in a hurry.”

You aren’t expecting your voice to hitch on that last sentence, but it does. Maria grows somber, her dark eyes expressive.

“Can I ask why you left?”

You blink back the sheen of tears starting and gaze around the room, trying to land on something that will steel you. You find it in the small carving of a horse on the bookshelf nearby. You tell your story to that delicately made creature instead.

“We moved east through the QZ’s for about ten or eleven years. Stayed in a few of them before we’d pick up and keep moving to the next one. Hard to make connections and date with all that. I didn’t trust that I’d have the time.”

Maria looks like she wants to ask more when the door is opened and Tommy’s cheerful voice rings out announcing he and Douglas are home and ready for lunch.

“We have company!” Maria says cheerfully.

Tommy turns the corner to see you and he greets you. He wears Douglas strapped to him with fabric, snuggled under his large jacket. Jackson is sleeping soundly and barely notices when Tommy unwraps and hands him off to his mother.

Douglas squirms, his tiny head burrowing into Maria’s neck. She smiles and for the first time you’ve known her it looks sincere. There is a lightness in the house you realize, something that had been missing before.

“He enjoyed being out in the fresh air,” Tommy announces. “Everyone who saw him wanted to kiss him.”

“Tommy!” Maria looks horrified.

“But I didn’t let ‘em,” Tommy finishes, pressing a gentle kiss to his wife’s worried brow. “I’m gonna make some soup. You two want a bowl?”

“I’m alright,” you say. “I just brought by dessert. I’m actually heading over to Ellie’s to do some baking.”

“Joel’s letting you use his place to bake?”

You still, brows raised. “Uh… yeah. Is that… should I not be?”

“No, I’m just surprised,” Tommy admits after a pause. “I don’t think he’s ever let anyone in that house aside from me and Maria. Think the only reason he and Ellie don’t kill each other is ‘cuz she’s in the garage.”

“Oh.”

You don’t know what else to offer besides that.

Tommy nods and for a moment you see something in his expression, a pinched look when Maria looks away from him. You realize that Tommy looks harried, running a hand through his glossy curls.

“What’s up?”

“Nothin’,” Tommy replies too quickly.

You see the panic in his eyes as his gaze darts from his wife back to you. You understand immediately. Maria is doing well, if there’s something stressful in Jackson City he doesn’t want to bother her with it.

“Thanks for the tea Maria, but I better head out,” you inform them both.

Maria wraps you into a side hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other holding her son. You run your knuckles down his spine gently.

“Come back soon,” she whispers.

“I promise.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Tommy says, feigning manners. The two of you walk to the front door around the corner. As you toe on your boots you look up at him expectantly.

“Well?”

Tommy looks over his shoulder anxiously before dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper only you can hear.

“Rumor is Raiders were spotted by A Patrol this week,” Tommy says with a sigh. “Up by the traps.”

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Really?”

“Not positive. A Patrol isn’t always the most reliable. They spook easy and are overly cautious. But I’d rather that than the alternative.”

“Of course.”

“Just make sure you and Joel are extra cautious,” Tommy says. “I know you’re both responsible but, you know…. Just be extra responsible.”

You nod, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest as you make your way to Rancher Street.

///

You didn't really want to go to Joel's house today. But Ellie had found you last night heading home from The Tipsy Bison and had guilted you into it when she told you that Joel had brought back all the supplies needed.

You'd tried to sway her into baking at your place but only the burners on your oven work. You'd never really considered getting the main oven fixed, since you take most of your meals in the dining hall.

But in moments like this, you heavily regret that choice.

You feel like even your footsteps sound timid as they make their way up the wood steps.

Ellie is at the door, pulling it open before you can even knock. She must have been looking for you at the window, counting down the seconds until your arrival. The thought warms you. She gives you a broad smile that lights up her face.

"I got everything set up!"

She takes off down into the kitchen and you venture into the Miller home tentatively, still anxious about what happened last time.

A sound to your right draws your attention and you take in the tall form of Joel coming into the room. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater, obviously feeling the chill despite the cheery fire that roars behind him.

"Mornin'," he greets.

"Morning." You lick your lips nervously. "Thanks for letting me bake with Ellie."

"'Course. She's been looking forward to it for weeks. Can't stop talkin' about it.'

Joel gives you a whisper of a smile but the thing that really throws you about this interaction is that he looks almost nervous. You've never seen Joel look nervous.

He'd been so stiff after last patrol, not even saying goodbye to the group after you'd all disembarked off the horses.

It had been embarrassing. Him storming off like you'd all done something wrong. Only Jennifer seemed to still be under Joel's spell citing that watching him hammer the window would fuel her fantasies for months to come.

You're still really irritated with him but it's lessened slightly because his greeting isn’t hostile. You could almost relax if it weren’t for the intense way he’s staring at you.

You hear your name being called by Ellie in the next room so you toe off your shoes and head into the kitchen. She's got an apron on, borrowed from the kitchen or Joel because it's far too big for her small frame.

"Alright," you give her a warm smile as you enter. "You got everything?"

"Yep."

You place the bag you brought on the counter. You remove your own apron, baby blue with ruffles on the end. A recent gift from Jennifer who told you “since you’re a real chef you need your own apron”. You tie it as you speak to Ellie.

"So what I like to do is set up all my supplies on the counter just to double check I have everything. Nothing worse than being halfway through a recipe and finding out you you’re missing ingredients."

The sentence isn't even out of your mouth before Ellie’s opened up her cupboards and ice box and begun to take everything out. Flour, eggs, bowls, milk and more, all the items you gave Joel on the list. She places them on the counter before looking at you like a proud student.

"You'll need measuring spoons."

The two of you turn at the same time to see Joel standing by the entrance to the kitchen, lingering. His hands are in his jean pockets, standing like a chastised student outside the classroom.

"I brought some," you inform him, trying to hold in your irritation. You pull them from your bag, putting them next to the eggs.

You feel Joel's eyes on your back and you're sure he's silently judging you, eager to point out what you're doing wrong. You stiffen under the perceived scrutiny. Ellie must sense the change in the room because she whips around to shoot him a jeering look.

"Joel you don't need to supervise," Ellie says rolling her eyes. "We won't break the damn stove."

Joel looks at his feet mumbling something about needing to do stuff upstairs anyway before he's making his way out of the kitchen.

You go back to your lesson with Ellie who turns out to be a very focused student.

She asks smart questions, measures everything perfectly and takes her time. It's only when you put her in charge of cracking three eggs into the bowl that she gets frustrated.

"Fuck, it cracked wrong. Shell got in."

Her fingers pinch into the egg bowl, trying to grasp the fallen eggshell. Of course the viscous nature of the raw egg makes it impossible and it’s not long before she pushes at the bowl angrily, her face is set into a deep frown.

“S’fucking bullshit.”

"Happens all the time," you tell her kindly. "Don't stress about it. I’ll show you a secret my mom taught me and my sister to get ‘em out."

Ellie watches as you take the empty shell half still in her hand. Her brows knit in confusion as you lower it into the bowl, using it as a scoop. Unlike with her fingers, the egg shell piece floats easily into the makeshift scoop. You pull the shell from the bowl, tossing the mess into the garbage.

“Holy shit that actually worked.” Ellie smiles at this and it transforms her pale pinched features into that of a warm, approachable teenager.

You smile, feeling strangely proud. You’ve never baked with anyone else before, aside from the kitchen. But that was following the same boring recipes given by the head chef. You were usually boiling rice, cutting onions or apples. Baking is a different beast, a calmer, more relaxing one.

After that hiccup Ellie is more patient with herself. She's keen to learn about baking but she's very eager to talk to you about you. When you pop the formed pastries into the oven and set the timer she decides that now is the time to chat.

"What kind of music did you used to listen to before?"

Memories of Joel’s warning float in your mind. The reminder not to tell her too much. To make her long for a life that he can’t give her.

"Enough about me,” you deflect. “I want to know about you."

At this Ellie balks slightly, the smile wavering just a fraction before the mask is replaced and she nods. Her mixing increases but now her eyes are on the batter.

"Whadda you wanna know?"

"What was your life like before Jackson?"

"I was in the QZ back in Boston,” she says slowly, as if she's trying to make sure she doesn't give too much away. "Hated it."

"Parents?"

"Never met 'em."

"What brought you to Jackson City?"

"Joel."

She doesn't offer you more or less than that. You understand it, you don't push it.

"How'd you end up here?" She asks, mixing the dry ingredients.

You realize the stupidity of you asking her those questions. How easily you opened them to be doubled back on yourself.

"You asked me what kind of music I listened to before?" You smile, hoping that this will distract her. "I remember I saw Chicago about a billion times," you laugh. "I was obsessed. I listened to the soundtrack over and over."

"Chicago," Ellie says slowly as if trying to recall before a light seems to go on. "Oh, I've heard of Chicago. Joel likes ‘em."

Them?

It takes you a minute to understand what she's talking about. You finally answer giggling.

"Chicago the musical, not the band. The musical had great songs. And dancing."

"Do you dance?"

"Not very well."

Your dual laughter combines and you can't help but enjoy the sound. Ellie really does make you laugh. She reminds you of how life was before. When everything seemed new.

You can tell Ellie wants to know everything about your life before the outbreak. And you want to indulge her but Joel's words rub their imprint on your the inside of your skull.

"Hey I promised your D- Joel that I wouldn't keep talking about this stuff with you," you explain quietly. "He's worried it makes you want stuff you can't have."

"Jesus," Ellie says rolling her eyes. “Overprotective much?”

"No he's right," you insist truthfully. "I mean, I get where he's coming from. He doesn't wanna keep disappointing you."

"Joel could never disappoint me."

The timer goes off and you peer into the oven. The pastries are a golden brown. You smile before taking them out with the oven mitt. Ellie closes her eyes, inhaling.

"They smell so good."

"Just wait until you put icing on them," you encourage with a grin. "Delicious."

The two of you get to work making the icing while the pastries cool.

"It's gonna snow," Ellie comments out of nowhere as she peers out the window, mixing idly.

"Hate to break it to you, El, it's already snowing."

Ellie gives you a smirk along with her side eye. You don't know if it's from your sarcastic comment or the fact that you called her El.

"I mean I think it’s gonna snow a lot." She explains. "I heard some of the other kids talking about it at school."

"Huh," you offer noncommittal as you look at the consistency of the icing. "Wonder how they can tell."

"They said they could smell it," Ellie says with a grin, pushing up the sleeve of her shirt so that it doesn't drip into the icing bowl. "They said tha-"

You can't hear anything she's saying after that. All you can focus on is her now bared arm and the ugly bite mark. Blood rushes in your ears and you cry out before giving a blood curdling shriek.

“No!”

Ellie jumps, startled at your sudden screams. She throws herself back against the wall, eyes wide and glancing around as if she expects hordes of infected to come streaming in.

"What? What is it?"

You know she's never seen you be loud, never seen you scream and the sight must terrify her.

But all you can focus on is the clear outline of bite marks on her forearm visible after she rolled up her sleeves. The clear sign of an infected’s mark. She’s going to turn into a clicker before your eyes. She’s going to become soulless and inhuman and you need to go. You need to get somewhere safe.

Joel. He’ll be so devastated.

You can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel approaching the kitchen but all you can think of is escaping and getting yourself safe. You have to warn the town. You run towards the front door, your socks slipping over the smooth floor.

You're still screaming incoherently, your voice cracking as you lunge for the doorknob, tears in your eyes. Your hand closes around the brass knob just as two muscled arms go around your waist, pulling you back harshly. A hand covers your mouth and a deep voice is at your ear.

"Quit," he repeats, shaking you slightly in his arms. "Stop screamin'."

There's an increasingly paranoid thought that believes this was all a trap. A way for Joel to get his daughter fed. You feel it, Joel's arms wrapped around your entire body, pinning your arms to your sides. His body is warm and solid behind you, terrifying in its strength. It takes you to a time you've tried to forget.

"Get the fuck off of me!" You shriek against his palm, trying to wriggle out of his grip but he holds firm. You're screaming expletives, trying to kick out. You shake his hand off your mouth. "She's bit, Joel! I saw it!"

Ellie hasn't moved from where she stands cowering in the corner of the kitchen. But you can only imagine how soon it will be before she turns. You can't be here for that. You can’t watch that sweet girl turn into one of them.

"I know," Joel rumbles against your temple, hands still gripping you tightly.

"You know," you repeat and now a dread begins in your feet and floods the rest of you.

Joel knows she is bit. Joel welcomed you into his home knowing she was bit.

You are going to die.

"Let me go!"

High on fearful adrenaline you give a frantic kick backwards, elbowing into Joel's abdomen at the same time you thrust the ball of your foot onto his socked toes. Joel gives a strangled grunt and his arms loosen in pain momentarily allowing you a chance to break free from him.

You tug open the door and speed out without your boots. You feel the snow on the porch under your feet, freezing your toes immediately. You throw yourself down the porch stairs, feet slapping the wood as you hold back sobs. The street is deserted; the houses all empty as they usually are on bright Saturday afternoons. You go to cry out for someone, anyone, when Joel's arm bands around your waist.

You give a devastated howl of defeat before Joel is dragging your struggling frame back into the house, telling you to calm down.

Ellie is by the sink, her eyes on the ground.

But you still struggle, trying to get away from this house. Joel gives a frustrated growl before he pushes you up against the wall, pinning you there with his hips. His hands hold your wrists on either side of your head, pressing them into the wall.

"Stop fuckin' strugglin'," Joel seethes when you jerk against him, his chest pressing you so tightly to the wall you can't breathe.

"Please let me go," you beg brokenly as you continue to struggle in his arms. "Please I just-“

"She's immune," he rasps in your ear. "She's fucking immune! Stop!"

Immune. Immune.

"What?" You stop your screaming just long enough to twist your head to face him. "Immune? That's not possible."

But you’ve stopped struggling as hard.

You take a closer look at Ellie’s arm from where you stand, noticing that it doesn’t look particularly fresh. In fact it looks scarred. And yet something in you is still terrified. So terrified that you yelp when you feel Joel's wide hands go to either side of your face, forcing your face up and eyes to his.

"Everything is okay," Joel tells you in a husky rasp. "You're safe, I promise. I've got you. You're safe."

His eyes are locked with yours as he says this and you don't know how those words work their way into your body, but they do. The same way they wind around you as you allow yourself to get lost on patrols with your mouth on him. That sense that someone else is in charge, someone else is protecting you.

You're safe.

Your entire frame goes boneless in his arms and when he finally releases your face your head drops to your chest. He continues to press you gently against the wall with one heavy hand holding you there.

"What if it's slow acting or -" you whisper quietly, "or what if you can still pass it on with saliva or-"

"The dogs don't detect it," Joel tells you, his hold on you not lessening. "Ellie and I've shared drinks plenty a' times. She's immune."

You stare at the girl at the table, her entire countenance shifted. You can see the devastation, the fear and anger floods out of you immediately, like a deep sigh. You sag in Joel's arms, feeling as he slowly loosens you.

"She's had it for months," Joel tells you, no longer pinning you to the wall.

"Months?"

You're still stunned by the developments but it doesn't stop your eyes from traveling over to Ellie. You see now that tears are slipping off the end of her nose as she silently cries. She’s pulled her sleeve back down, covering the scar.

Your heart immediately breaks because it's you who did this to her. This girl who trusts so few. You treated her like she was a monster.

"Ellie I'm sorry, I just..." You trail off, your heart still beating wildly.

But Ellie has tears in her eyes, her neck blotchy. She's raced to the garage, slamming the door after her. You flinch at the sound of it.

Then it’s just you and Joel in the quiet kitchen.

"How long have you known?"

"Since I met her," Joel explains quietly. "Was bringing her to the fireflies with a friend in exchange for a battery. Rumor was there was a cure."

"Guess not if you're both here," you say absently, missing the pain in his dark eyes when you say it.

"Not a lot of people know about it. We'd like to keep it that way."

You nod, your mind whirring. You realize you've never seen Ellie in anything but long sleeves. Never seen her wearing bracelets or anything that would draw her attention to her arms. She’s been hiding in plain sight. You think of the friendships she hasn’t made, the way she keeps to herself, the hostile way she is with most and it all clicks into place.

"We were thinking of gettin' her a tattoo to cover it up,” Joel continues. “Haven't found anyone to do it yet."

You nod again, eyes falling on the pastries now lying squashed on the floor, the warm berries oozing out onto the wood.

“I’ll take care of this stuff,” Joel mutters, dropping to his knees and starting to pick up the supplies you brought. You think of how excited Ellie had been to recreate the pop tarts, how devastated she’ll be when she realizes they’re all ruined.

"I- I think I should go talk to Ellie."

"She doesn't wanna talk. Trust me."

"Just lemme try."

Joel looks as if he's about to protest but you're already walking quickly until you've reached the door to the garage. You knock gently.

"Ellie? It's me. Please don't be upset ... I was just startled."

There's a pause, then a sniffle that makes your heart lurch.

"Can we talk? Please, Ellie?"

You hear shuffling and then finally the door to the garage is opened a crack and you see Ellie peering through. Her eyes are swollen and red, the end of her nose pink. She glares at you through the small slit in the door.

"Fuck off."

"I just want to explain. Just let me explain and then I promise I'll leave."

She doesn't move, doesn't attempt to close or open the door. She just stands there like some sentry.

“Five minutes. That’s all I need.”

"You think I'm a freak."

"I don't," you insist, palm on the door as if you could transfer your emotions by osmosis to her. "Ellie I was having fun right before all this. I really was. Can we talk? Please? I want to explain properly."

Ellie’s glossy eyes scan your body and with a labored sigh she steps back, opening the door and allowing you entrance.

"Come in."

You follow her into the warm space, watching as she drops onto her made bed. Ellie hugs her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as you look at her. Ellie's eyes drag from the floor up to your face and you see her chin trembling as she holds in tears.

“Can I sit?” you ask motioning to beside her on the bed. She nods, shuffling to give you room to perch there.

“I know you’re not gonna come back after this,” Ellie says, eyes wide with a quiet pleading as you look over at her.

“Of course I am.”

“No you’re not,” Ellie says shaking her head and rubbing angrily at her eyes. “You’ve seen my arm. You think I’m a fucking freak.”

"Ellie I swear I don't think you're a freak," you emphasize as you shuffle on the edge of her bed. "I was just... That bite took me back to a really scary time."

"Yeah," Ellie says with her chin balanced on her kneecap. "No one wants to think about... All that stuff."

You see the desolation there in her eyes. She's hurt and even though you didn't mean to do it you did. You feel responsible for her sadness. Your eyes go to her closed door, wanting to make sure you have privacy before you turn back to her.

"Ellie, can I share some stuff with you?"

"Yeah.”

"It's not happy stuff," you tell her.

"Figured." Ellie shrugs again like it doesn't matter. Like she's seen it all. Maybe she has, but you doubt it. She doesn’t make eye contact with you.

“It’s just. . . I’ve never told anyone this stuff before. Ever.”

Ellie’s eyes go to your face now. She can see how serious you are and she straightens slightly. She goes from being hunched and holding her legs to sitting cross legged across from you on the bed.

"Okay..." You take a sharp inhale. “So, I was about your age when Outbreak Day happened. I was with my Dad and my sister. My mom was visiting my Aunt in Wyoming-“

“How come?”

“Ellie you gotta let me get this all out quick okay?” you say gently. “No interruptions.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you breathe deeply again. “She was visiting my aunt because my aunt was getting a divorce and my mom wanted to support her. Anyway, about ten years ago my dad and my little sister and I were travelling between QZ’s. We were looking for my Mom because my Dad was convinced she was still alive and she’d be out in this direction.”

You swallow; hating talking about this but knowing that Ellie deserves this truth. So far she looks intrigued, her eyes wide.

“So one night we were exhausted. We’d been travelling for days and we were low on food and water. We see this old cabin and it looks like it’s abandoned. We figure it’s a good spot to hunker down and get some energy before we keep going.” You exhale a shuddering breath.

“Except it wasn’t abandoned. It was a trap set up by this group of Raiders. I called them The Group. They killed my dad and they were gonna kill me and my sister when one of the guys had the bright idea that they could use us as bait.”

"Bait?"

Ellie seems to remember she’s not supposed to say anything because she ducks her head slightly.

"Yeah. they made us go into new places first," you explain detached, as if you’re talking about another woman in another life. "So if there was anything dangerous it would get us in enough time to give The Group a chance to escape.”

Ellie is staring at you wide-eyed, all her teenage ambivalence lost as you detail the most terrifying years of your life. You omit lots of the more gruesome details and you definitely don’t tell her about Rock River.

"Once they hung me from a tree," you tell her, trying not to sound emotional. It's not hard. Years of hiding how that part of your life affects you makes you good at it. "They tied me to a rope and hung me on a branch to attract clickers."

"Jesus."

"Yeah," you nod. "It worked really well. There was a big group and they piled underneath me, trying to grab at me, their mouths all black and their teeth gnashing and...” you stop yourself when you see Ellie’s eyes widening. “Anyway, The Group got ‘em all and managed to get some good supplies in the town because of it. I just... It just left me kind of..."

You wince when you realize you’ve trailed off, your focus blurred.

"The point is that when I saw your arm it just all came flooding back and I reacted out of instinct. Not because I think you're a freak. I could never think that about you.”

Ellie is quiet, digesting all that you've told her. You think you hear a creaking outside her door, but you're not sure. Your attention is drawn back to the girl who’s eyes hold such a myriad of emotions; pain, empathy, fear, anger.

"How did you end up here?"

You think about not telling her. But it feels so good to be getting some of this information out, like you’re coughing up a thick black piece of flesh that’s been festering in your lungs for years, making it so you can now finally breathe.

"One guy, Chiyo, he joined up with our group a few years after I was taken. He owned a shooting range before everything.... You know…. Well, he'd broken his ankle in a recent raid and couldn’t really move much. If we hadn't come upon him when we did he probably would have been killed by another group of raiders. But as it was he had this giant stash of weapons and The Groups ranks were thinning so..."

You trail off, thinking of how you'd come upon him first when you and The Group got to town. How the leader you thought of as Red due to his hair (you never learned their real names), shoved you brutally by the shoulder.

Always the bait.

But after what had happened only the week before you didn’t care anymore. Red pushed you and you entered willingly, your feet not even dragging as you walked. It was either be shot by one of The Group attempting to escape, or see what resided inside the shop with the boarded up windows.

Chiyo’s gun was trained on you the second you walked in. The way you held your hands at your eye level when he told you he was going to shoot.

“I’m gonna blow your head clean off if you take another step.”

And suddenly you’d decided that you were done. You were so tired. And at least this way it would be quick and it would be away from The Group. And so you’d taken another step towards Chiyo, hands still raised.

You can still recall the furrowing of his thick brows and the lowering of his weapon as he stared at you.

"You want to die?"

You hadn't answered him but that had been answer enough for Chiyo. He'd hobbled over to you, dragging his lame leg, dark eyes fixed on your face.

"I'm not gonna hurt you."

And when he'd said it, you'd believed him.

You remember the way you'd convinced the rest of The Group they needed someone like him. A crack shot, you told them. You'd had no idea of knowing if it was true. But there had been warmth in Chiyo's eyes that was missing from the rest of The Groups. Something that you clinged to in the coming months.

"Thankfully he was a really good shot,” you explain. “He joined up and we stripped his shop of his guns and eventually his ankle healed thanks to the medic in The Group and he was suddenly part of the team.”

“Was he nice to you?”

“Yeah. He was really kind. Whenever they used me as bait he insisted on going with. He said it was so we could save me for really bad missions, but I knew it was to protect me. They let him get away with it because he was such a good shot, I think. Everyone liked him. When the rest of The Group was asleep we'd talk by the fire. Chiyo was afraid of horses," you tell Ellie with a small smile. “Was about the only thing he was afraid of.”

You don't tell her everything. You don't tell of the tender way he fucked you in the wee hours of the morning before The Group rose most mornings. How he whispered that he missed his dead wife and would never dishonor her memory by kissing you. But you hadn’t minded, you understood and you’d both been gentle with each other.

You’d enjoyed getting lost in the sensation of him. Of his cock in your mouth, of your cunt stuffed full of him. The rhythmic sensation of sex that took you out of your body and away from your every day horrors.

You remember how he would hold you, tears sliding onto your collar as he spilled himself onto your belly whimpering his dead wife’s name. How he would thank you over and over with your hand at the base of his skull, mouth against his shoulder while you quietly sobbed your own gratitude.

"After a few months he told me he was escaping. He'd heard about Jackson City and that's where he was headed. He wanted to bring me to see if we could find my Mom."

"Holy shit,” Ellie breathes. “Where is he now?"

"He didn't make it," you tell her tightly.

And now the shield is back in your voice and eyes and she must sense it. Ellie doesn’t press this, seems to understand that there is more there. With a teenagers’ sensibilities and a teenager’s romanticism she asks you her next question.

"Were you in love with him?"

Chiyo is a faint memory, a watercolor blur if you think about him in too much detail. When you try to recall things like the scar over his left eyebrow or the dragon tattoo on his inner thigh. But these are just pieces of him. They aren't him.

When you think of Chiyo there is a warmth. But it's the warmth that comes from having a benevolent savior. One who never told you that you were in his debt. Yes, you cared for him. Of course you did. He was gentle and he was kind and his heart was soft.

"No," you say firmly. "He was nice though and I cared about him. Probably as close to love as I'll ever get."

You and Ellie are quiet for a long time.

“I tried saving a bit boy once,” she finally offers. “His name was Sam. Tried rubbing my blood on him. Thought it would save him. It didn’t. He turned and his brother had to kill him before he killed himself.”

You don’t allow yourself to cry. You know that isn’t what Ellie needs right now.

“I’m the reason so many people are dead,” Ellie explains when you say nothing in return. “My Mom died having me. Riley… Tess… Sam…Henry... Ellie’s voice is doing that same detached thing yours does. “Sometimes I honestly think it would be better if I was never born.”

You can’t help the way your arms leap out in front of you to gather the girl into your arms. She tries to fight you on it, flinching from the contact before your unrelenting arms pull her into a tight squeeze, tugging her into your lap. Angry tears slip down her red cheeks, her cries breaking free as you wrestle her into a bear hug.

“I’m so glad you exist, Ellie.”

And then all the fight is gone from her body and she’s sobbing quietly into your shoulder, her tiny frame shaking. You hold her against you, wanting your adoration and affection to move through your body into hers so she knows how much she’s wanted.

“The world would be so much worse without you in it,” you assure her honestly. “You’re special, Ellie. And not because you’re immune. Because you’re smart and brave and funny and you make people like me feel like we’re worth something.”

Her arms wrap around your neck, face in your shoulder and she allows you to continue holding her, rocking her gently in your lap as if she were your own teenage daughter.

“And yes you’re stubborn and you can be annoying,” you add, trying to lighten the mood. “But there’s no one I like talking to as much as I like talking to you. You made me look forward to breakfasts in the dining hall because it meant I got to speak to you.”

“You’re just saying that,” she sniffles, arms loosely circling your neck.

“You don’t like liars, right?” You remind her. “Well I’m not lying. Plus, I know Joel loves you and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that loves many people so you must be pretty great.”

Ellie gives a shallow huff of amusement in your shoulder.

“And I know Maria and Tommy adore you just as much if not more than I do. And if you opened up a little more with the kids around here I know they’d love you just as much as we do because you’re a wonderful person. The world would be so much worse without your light, Ellie. You bring light to the darkness.”

You continue rocking her for several moments, waiting until her sobs turn into hiccups and then gentle swallows. Finally she pulls back from you, almost embarrassed at the emotional display. She shuffles back onto the bed, picking at the loose string hanging from her pillow.

“I think I’m cursed.”

“Hey now that’s not true,” you insist. “I’m here aren’t I? How is that a curse? If anything it’s a blessing.”

She gives you a weak smile that you return.

“C’mon, let’s go and finish the pop tarts.”

“We’ll have to start all over again,” Ellie almost whines.

“Then I guess I’ll be staying here a little longer.”

Ellie wipes at her blotchy face, running her hands down her cheeks before nodding and standing abruptly. You two make it back into the kitchen, surprised to see Joel standing there. His broad shoulders ripple as he works on something in front of him, his back to you.

Ellie sails over to him, her eyes wide when she sees what he’s done. “Wait are those the pop tarts?”

“Yep.”

“I thought they were ruined.”

“Yours were,” Joel shrugs, spreading icing onto one of the homemade pop tarts. “Mine went okay.”

You feel as if you’ve been physically pushed.

Joel baked?

Ellie snags one of the still warm pastries from the plate as Joel starts running the cloth over the counter and wiping the crumbs into the sink. You look at the joy on Ellie’s face as she takes a bite.

“Holy shit, Joel, these are so fucking good.”

“Language,” Joel admonishes over his shoulder, though there’s nothing harsh in it. He turns around, hip resting against the counter.

“I’m gonna have you do all my baking,” Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him. “I’ll just be your taste tester.”

You want to grin at this but all you can do is stare at Joel and the soft way he’s smiling down at Ellie. This open look of adoration you so rarely see. Like there’s this secret Joel inside the mean Joel shell that the privileged few witness.

Joel could never disappoint me.

Joel seems to feel your eyes on him because he blinks over at you, dark eyes darting around your face. His expression is unreadable, but there’s nothing cruel or cold in it. He’s just looking at you, almost as if he’s trying to figure you out as well.

“Well looks like we’re all set here so I should go,” you start awkwardly, suddenly feeling strangely light headed. Joel steps towards you, brows rising.

“You could stay for a dr-“ Joel begins, but you’ve already made your way to the front door, pulling on your boots and jacket.

Your hands are trembling for some reason and you think it must be all this emotional turmoil you’ve shared with Ellie. It has you feeling vulnerable and exposed and you want to escape home to the safety of your bed, away from soulful brown eyes and soft smiles.

“Ellie you wanna grab breakfast before patrols?” you ask, studiously ignoring Joel who stands next to her looking at you. You don’t want her to think you’re rushing off and forgetting about her.

“Sure,” Ellie says brightly before motioning to the plate of pastries. “You want any of these to go?”

“Nah, you enjoy them,” you insist with a flash of a smile. “You worked hard.”

You don’t look backwards as you rush out the door of their home and down the sidewalk of Rancher Street, convinced you can feel Joel’s dark gaze on you the entire way.

-----------------------------

secondary a/n: The other parts I wanted to include in this chapter were gonna bloat this installment into over 10k and I wasn't even finished so I had to break it up!

CHAPTER 11 SPOILERS BELOW THE JOEL

in chapter eleven there be smut.

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