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fernandopiastri28 · 3 days

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you love me (i really do) ~ lando norris

~ part 1 ~

warnings: drinking, angst

Everything came back to her now about that night in a flash, the night Lando got a podium in Singapore. It had seemed like a blur in the moment, since the celebration had been so quickly swallowed up by endless shots, blaring music, too much touching, and the way Lando’s touch felt hot and heavy all over her.

He’d wanted to celebrate it, that’s obviously why he was crazy drunk- his eyes bright with the sort of excitement only a champion had. He’d been so happy, soaking up every moment of attention that blared on him. Sure, Carlos had won the race, but Lando had been enjoying each second like he was the one taking home the first place trophy.

The photos and videos seemed endless. There was him getting out of the car, his toothy grin, the way his face lit up in pride as he raised the trophy high above his head. Each scroll past the photos felt like more of her restraint being chipped away at her body.

Her situation had become so direly drastic to the one she’d found herself deep within only a matter of hours ago. Her surroundings went from the blinding neon lights of the club, to the sudden dim shade as her head remained buried under layers of thick blankets. Her neck craned at an uncomfortable angle to look at her phone screen as her thumb idly swiped through twitter. It seemed like a bad dream, a bad hangover at that- all regret with all good memories just narrowly out of reach.

Seemingly, the whole platform had been going crazy over the ‘CarLando’ podium. The memory of seeing it first hand was beyond hazy for her, but seeing the photos now- it must’ve been the best of his career. Standing on the second step next to his best friend, champagne coated his face in a glimmering sheen under the luminous night light celebrations.

Each new piece of media that appeared on her timeline caused her resolve to falter slightly more, being steadily replaced with the desire to bombard his phone with strings of apology texts. She shouldn’t have walked out on him, she shouldn’t have left without an apology, she shouldn't have ignored the three times he’d tried to call her presumably just after he’d woken up in an empty bed.

But she also shouldn’t have slept with him.

He was her best friend and not even a day ago, he was on top of her, all over her, inside her. Who’s to say when he did it with her would’ve been different? It was likely the exact same as every other time for him- have a good race (sometimes even if it had been a shitty one), get drinks, wait for a flock of attention from girls, give the most basic of compliments, ‘ you have beautiful eyes,’, ‘you’re fucking gorgeous in that dress,’, and wait for them to fall to their knees for him- literally.

Maybe it would wash over, maybe he’d be fine by the Japanese grand prix, Qatar at the least. He’d be fine, he always was. He somehow managed to consistently pick himself back up after each bad race, getting over a one night stand would be much easier than that.

Right?

Japan was the race directly after Singapore, and she didn’t attend. Lando wasn’t going to miss her, she’s pretty sure of that. After the initial few calls he’d attempted to make to her the morning she left him in the hotel, he’d gone seemingly radio silent. He was posting regularly on instagram, liking stupidly immature tweets, even hinting towards big upcoming projects for quadrant. He was.. normal. Unaffected clearly.

She took a flight to Australia, reckoning it was just about the safest place she could escape from Lando. The Australian grand prix was way back at the beginning of the year, and unlike his teammate, this wasn’t even his home, and he had no reason to go there.

She could camp out here for as long as she pleased- or at least until the middle of march when the 2024 Australian grand prix would be taking place. From the 24 of september until the 20 of march (give or take a few days), she had just about 6 months to sort herself the fuck up with him, or just escape somewhere else.

Trying to ignore all the information and blast of new media as the Qatar grand prix approached was near unignorable. McLaren was clearly confident about the track, and they believed that even under the unideal conditions of the track and the surrounding environment, that the cars were designed to fit each aspect of the Lusail Circuit.

And she wasn’t necessarily purposefully ignoring anything Lando related- in actuality she sometimes found her fingers hovering over a new interview of his. It was refreshing to see him happy, looking a whole lot better than she’d been feeling the last few days. So when her calendar pings as a reminder that qualifying was happening at 7 am, despite the stupid hour she’d need to be awake for it- she watched it anyways.

Lando narrowly ended in 10th after his lap times were deleted. Oscar suffered the same fate, but still had the advantage of being 3 places ahead of his senior teammate for the sprint shootout. Unfortunately he suffered again in the sprint shootout, Oscar starting in pole position while he came narrowly behind in second. Considerably an impressive feat, but for someone who wasn’t satisfied if he was not very first- Lando couldn’t have seemed more disappointed.

The sprint was worse for him afterwards, dropping from 1st to 2nd as Max took his spot. Oscar retained his pole, keeping his pace throughout the whole race to eventually take home his first win (even if ‘ it wasn’t a real race’) as a rookie. Lando, once again, was not thrilled. After being in the sport for 5 years, he was still chasing the high that would accompany a win.

On the day of the actual race, Lando performed only slightly worse than Oscar- the two of them securing the second ‘McPodium’ of the season with Oscar on the second step and Lando in third. Beneath the sheer exhaustion, near matching grins spreaded across both of their faces as they proudly held up their trophies. There was no doubt that Lando would every let the fact that his rookie teammate got win before he did- that much was evident in all the post race interviews.

There were certainly moments where she contemplated sending him a message, congratulating him on another podium to add to his collection. It did feel wrong though, appearing again out of nowhere when he achieved something notable. She didn’t want to come across that she’d only be there for him when he was successful. In actuality, she really just wanted to be back in his life. Surely a week without contact wouldn’t end the multi-year friendship they had.

But after all, a lot can happen in one night. Maybe Lando would gradually just turn into a distant memory of hers- somebody that she once knew.

At COTA, Lando secured his fourth podium in a row. He’d gotten 2nd in Singapore, 2nd in Japan, 3rd in Qatar, and back up to 2nd in America. This time, Oscar doesn’t join him on the podium, Lewis does instead. Two multi world champions- one a recent 3 time champion, the other with 7 titles- and Lando right there next to them. He’d be next, she was sure he would be.

It’s quite the sight, the three men stood up on their respective steps. Lewis- the past of formula one. The man who ruled the sport for years, taking home win after win. Only challenged by the very race winner of Max Verstappen. He was the face of formula one for the time being, and likely could be for the following few years. There were only a few talents in the sport who had the potential to fight Max for those future titles- and Lando was certainly one of them. He had a good car, a teammate who could challenge and push him to be a better driver, he had the determination- the drive to win.

Mexico wasn’t anything to write home about. She tried to not watch it, getting an icky feeling each time she saw Lando on screen because the only place her mind would go to was how sweet his mouth tasted. It seemed that the only thoughts that would flood her brain each time she saw anything related to him, her body went into a sort of remembering state when all she could think about was how she’d felt that night. He ended in 5th, so maybe she should’ve just not watched the race. His face was hardly shown beyond a clip of him just before getting onto the car, and then in the post race interviews. At least she didn’t stay up all night thinking about it.

Brazil on the other hand was a race worth watching- Max in 1st, Lando in 2nd, Fernando in 3rd. The gap between Alonso and Norris is insane, especially given Fernando was a 2 time world champion with more than 20 years of experience. He’d be next, she knew it. He’ll be a world champion soon, and her only wish was that she’d be smart enough and brave enough to reach out with congratulations. She also hoped that he’d be happy to receive one from her.

Notably the worst race of the season is Las Vegas, given that Lando crashed on Lap 3. He slammed straight into a barrier, his car almost flinging backward with the power of hitting a wall at 180mph. It was the only race she didn’t want, but hearing about it afterwards sent a cold sweat down her back. A sharp inhale filled her lungs and her hand stayed attached over her gaping mouth. She didn’t check how bad the crash was initially, and wad glad when she heard he was out without any injuries.

Finally, the season finale in Abu Dhabi occurred. After such an intense season (that she’d shamefully tuned in for more than she would’ve liked to admit post Singapore), it was almost a relief when the race ended, because of the realisation that she wouldn’t have to hear about Lando for a few months, until preseason testing at least.

With the slight friendship (and possibly to be further blossoming) she’d managed to accumulate with Oscar, she’d found out the Brit was basically doing a world tour over the winter holiday. Places such as Bali and Vietnam, then all the way over to Finland- or an adjacent. She’d be safe, the only two drivers who would be in the same continent as her would be the two actual Australian drivers- Liam in New Zealand if he counted in the f1 drivers realm.

So she took the few weeks she had off of work- which wasn’t ever really solid as it seemed her career was all over the place, she took those solid-off holiday weeks to venture out to familiarise herself better with Australia. Sydney- she knew well, Brisbane maybe even more so. Melbourne the most due to attending the grand prix there every year for the past 6 seasons. But in all her time spent in Australia, she’d never truly gotten around to exploring Western Australia.

So she did what any right minded person visiting Perth who had connections to F1 would do- she reached out to Daniel and asked for any recommendations for her holiday. But instead of simply giving her a list of places to eat, shops to visit, sights to see, he straight up invites her to spend a week at his farm.

Yep, Daniel Ricciardo, farm owner.

Obviously, she accepted the invitation due to lack of other plans and pure interest about what a f1 driver of over a decade could possibly need a farm for. So the next day, her legs awkwardly cramped up in between her suitcase and the back of the passenger seat in the taxi. Her fingers idly drummed against the window as sparse pellets of rain hit against it. The sun blared down through the glass despite the rain- clearly a perth summer was no joke when it came to heat.

The timing of the car finally slowing down just in front of Daniel’s farm/house/home situation perfectly aligned for when her phone died. Manoeuvring her feet out of the tight squeeze where her suitcase was crushing her legs was her first problem, actually picking it up to carry out of the car was a whole different one. Once again, luckily for her Daniel was standing at the door, his signature grin lighting up his face.

After a tight hug and a quick exchange of the past few months they hadn’t seen each other for (the time post SIngapore), he picked up her suitcase with ease and lugged it inside. The inside of his house was nice, beautiful even. That was expected for a millionaire- but it wasn’t the typical too much money, not enough actual taste , it was classy and elegant, while maintaining a certain homely charm.

“This is beautiful, Dan,” She murmured, shaking her head back as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. He barked out a laugh as he kicked off his shoes, 2 scuff marks on the ground ruining the otherwise picturesque place.

“Thank you,” He grinned, “I try my best- or more so Heidi does,” Ah, that made more sense. Not that Daniel didn’t seem capable of designing a nice place, but the fact that it was actually his girlfriend made a whole lot more sense.

Nudging her shoes off and over to join next to his, she gently stretched out her limp to relieve the formed tension in her back, “Heidi does a fantastic job then,” Her eyes travelled around the living room, taking in each piece of wall art and decorative choice.

Daniel’s dirtied socks glided smoothly along the marble floors, “Can I get you a drink?” He hummed, one hand on the kitchen island to steady himself as the other opened the fridge door. He grabbed out a beer can for himself and so out of pure convenience and not wanting to seem ‘fussy’, she asked for the same.

The harsh, bitter taste of beer abused her throat, an unpleasant and unwelcome decision at only 3 in the afternoon. On the other hand, getting her first drink down then meant that as the night progressed further, and drinks got heavier- she’d be somewhat prepared from such a light percentage drink.

The rest of the evening was spent outside on the balcony, sipping beer and discussing the end of the season- how it had felt to get back to racing for him since the last race she’d actually seen in person was in Singapore where he’d been replaced with Liam.

They spoke briefly about Liam at that, Max too- mainly his dominance that season, partially about him as a person in general. They moved to speaking about Oscar’s rookie year, and then unsurprisingly, the topic landed onto Lando.

Finally, in the last hour before midnight, with her legs tucked up to her chest, she looked to her left where Daniel was in a rocking chair next to her. “I hooked up with Lando in Singapore,” She murmured, her index nail scraping along the condensation lined glass where only the last few drops of her whiskey-coke remained. “We hooked up and then I just left him there,” Daniel’s eyebrows shot up, his lips parting in shock.

“I knew that,” He eventually exhaled, his words completely different from his surprised reaction. “LN told me pretty much the day after it happened, and for the following weeks too,” Shit, that felt awful to hear. Part of her had wished that Lando had magically stopped caring the day after it had happened- she wanted it to be easy on him unlike how it was for her. It was her decision to have left, he shouldn’t have to continue to feel so deeply affected.

The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes deepened as she looked down, a comical laugh escaping her lips. “Why’d you react like that then?” Her lips feel cold as her throat remains hot from the intense burn of the vodka shots they’d stupidly taken a few hours prior. “You looked.. shocked,”

“I was,” He admitted, downing the last of his drink before resting it on the corner of his armrest, the corner of the glass hitting the wood with a clink. “ I am , I’m shocked you’re actually admitting you just abandoned the bloke after a night together. He thought you would never mention it again- never speak to him again,”

The edge of passive aggression in his voice is noticeable even to the most clueless people. It made her squirm in her seat, the palms of her hands get sweaty, and a bitter taste filled her mouth. Daniel wasn’t the type to ever get mad with anyone, or even be any bit confrontational, so the way he was speaking to her seemed so out of Ricciardo fashion.

“I know,” Her voice was barely a low hum, self disappointment pulsing through her body. “I’ve felt like shit ever since- if that means anything,” When her eyes lifted off the wood panel of the balcony fence and towards Daniel, he was looking far out towards the night sky.

His gaze met hers though, his bottom lip grazing under his teeth. It was strange seeing him that serious. “Doesn’t really mean too much to me, I think Lando needs to hear that,” Yeah , apologising to Daniel wasn’t going to do much was it? Lando was the one she’d left.

“He actually cares?” Her voice came out more surprised and untrusting than she’d expected. The scrunch of his eyebrows and twist of his lips in confusion gets her to keep talking. “Yeah, like.. I guess I just assumed it would be just like any other hook up for him,” Her hand carded through her hair, pushing it off her forehead.

“He cares more than anything,” Daniel murmured, a slight laugh attached to his voice. He wasn’t mad at her at all, fully understanding her scepticism about how real the younger driver’s feelings were. “I know he doesn’t seem as if he cares about each girl he gets with- but he cares about you,” Their eyes meet in a sort of sad and poetic way.

Daniel knows better than anyone the way she feels toward Lando, how she’s felt towards the Brit for years. Up until that night in Singapore, she’d waited for the day she could look at her best friend and not feel the most excruciating twisting in her stomach and cracking of her heart because he was the one thing she wanted, and the one thing she couldn’t have.

“In Vegas when he crashed, he asked for you,” The Aussie's voice had lost its humour, any sense of fun from earlier in the night having fully faded away. “So many times. He was hysterical, couldn’t understand why you weren’t there to hold his hand,”

Holy fucking shit. She wanted to cry, a tightening sensation formed in her throat, becoming painful to swallow. “I should’ve been there,” She bit down on the inside of her cheek, the sharp metallic taste of blood spilling onto her tongue. “I fucking should’ve reached out when I heard,”

He squeezed her hand tightly, his thumb squishing her hand up to reach the tips of his index and middle. “You had no way to know, you weren’t expected to be there either. You have your own life, Lando needs to know that,” She can’t shake it from her head though. “You’re not in the wrong, you don’t owe him to be there whenever he needs comfort. I think he just needs to know you’re not angry at him,”

Angry? Why on earth would she be angry? Lando hadn’t done a single thing wrong to her, she did owe it to him to be there when he crashed, when he was scared and alone. “Yes I do,” Her eyebrows drew to a pinch, a look of frustration clouding over her vulnerable near crying expression.

“ You don’t”

I do, Daniel. You don’t get it. I left him, I left him there alone straight after-

“He told me he loved me,”

That got a genuine look of shock from the Australian. “Shit. I didn’t know that,” His voice got breathy and harsh around the edges.

“Yeah.”

“Do you love him back?”

“Yeah.”

His hand left hers, moving to rub over his face. “Jesus,” It was so quiet between them that the noise of the near midnight light breeze was louder than either of them. “Does he know that?”

The muscles in her neck tensed with a deep swallow of the spit gathering in her mouth. Gross. “No. I don’t think he knows I heard him either,” She’d never felt more shameful. Her mind had been so fuzzy with alcohol and lust that it had just been too much. “I didn’t think he was serious. I didn’t think he could seriously love me,”

God, she needed to shut up before she began bawling her eyes out to Daniel.

“Why not?” She didn’t quite know how to answer his question. There were probably a million and one things she could give as half arsed replies to why she didn’t believe she and Lando should be together. The distance, constant travelling, lack of affection and physical ties. But Daniel could see right through her, he could see her lies.

“I’m just nothing like the girls he’s been with before. I didn’t- I don’t understand why when he could have absolutely anyone in the world, he’d want me,” She corrected herself, feeling far more vulnerable then she’d ever allowed herself to be in front of anyone before.

They’re no longer looking at each other, both too focused at staring up at the stars above them. “You make him feel safe. You’re the only one he’s always felt like a real person around. He’s not a race car driver with you, he’s not famous with you, he doesn’t have to perform and impress you, to you- he’s Lando, he’s your best friend. And to him, you’re home,”

It’s difficult to form a single thought after that. So after the conversation pulled to a complete close, they both agreed it was late and they needed their rest. With a suffocating hug and reassurances that she’ll be okay, they parted ways- Daniel into his own room and her into the spare bedroom. His snores seeped into her room, yet they weren’t what kept her from sleeping.

Lando was.

She swore she could hear him everywhere, even smell him. She wanted him laying down right next to her, his arms around her waist as she slept with her head on his chest. He was the only thing that could calm her down, make her mind shut up for a bit so she could just rest.

Her head had begun pounding and her mouth became infinitely dry from the excessive drinking, so with a struggle to stand up straight, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and her clammy hands gripped onto the handrails as she took each step one by one.

Passing through the kitchen, she grabbed a glass out of a cabinet and poured a glass of cold water. She chugged it down eagerly, getting a refill before heading into the living room to sit on the couch and drink the rest. As the couch became visible to her poor sight, she saw a figure sitting at the end further away from her. A mop of curly hair was on top of the figure’s head- Daniel.

Clearly he’d been unable to sleep like she had. Maybe he felt lonely too. Heidi was back in Portugal over the winter break, so he hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. He was probably in a similar boat as her right now.

She felt so empty after the past few weeks, and the hug she’d gotten from him only a few hours hadn’t quite been enough, so she set her glass down and stepped closer. The noise of her glass hitting the table grabbed the shadowed figure of Daniel’s attention, his head turning to face her. “Daniel,” She mumbled weakly, sprawling onto the couch next to where he was sitting and wrapped her arms loosely around him.

When he didn’t hug her back, she whined and dug her head into his chest. “Please Dan, I need a hug,” Her voice sounded so desperate as it hit her ears. “I just.. I want my brain to shut up for once, I- I’m just so tired,”

“I’m not Daniel,” Her heart pounded in absolute panic. Her chest rose and dropped quickly as she attempted to think of all the possible explanations. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be an intruder. God, how had she been so stupid as to not switch on a light or anything before practically hurdling herself at this guy? If she died right now, it was all on her for being a thoughtless idiot.

But in a moment of clarity where her mind considered who could possibly be at the house that wasn’t an intruder, she scanned through each person Daniel knew with curly hair and a British accent. Lewis? Didn't have curly hair. George? Also without curly hair. Ollie? Too young for Daniel to be friends with.

Oh.

“Lando?” A sharp exhale left her mouth as his name slipped out. She twisted her head to look up at him, his features only slightly visible in the near pitch black room. Sure enough, big green eyes and plump pink lips stood out to her. Her face crumpled, her heart thrumming in her chest. “ Lando”

He clearly had recognised her too, his lips parting as his expression softened. His eyes felt like a million knives jabbing into her, his intense stare mapping out her whole face. The smell of his cologne was harsh on her senses, yet was the most comfort she’d had in months.

“Why are you here?” Her tone sounded accusatory, which clearly wasn’t intentional. The comment landed poorly, his expression contorting strangely. Not helpful .

“Spontaneous Australia trip,” He didn’t owe her an apology, but something was nagging at him to stay, to engage in the conversation. It was the most he’d seen of her in nearly 4 months. He couldn’t even begin to express how good it felt to hear her voice after so long. “Came to visit Dan, maybe Osc next. Dan always tells me if I’m ever in the country I can just come over.. so” He trailed off when she didn’t reply, and his mouth clamped back shut.

Just as it seemed he would get up and leave, his actions tense and rigid around her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Quiet. Her mind finally went quiet. It was so peaceful for once. “I’m so sorry for everything,” Her voice was hardly a whisper, her mouth slightly muffled by the thick fabric of his hoodie. “I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for not contacting you, I’m sorry for ignoring you when you tried to call,” Her breaths became more frantic, tears piling up in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“I’m sorry for- for hurting you, I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” Her mouth and lips were so painfully dry, her tongue darted out to wet her lips before forcing out the final apology. Just as she was about to, his mouth opened as if he was about to talk. “Don’t say it’s okay,”

She knew him well enough to know exactly where he was going. He would apologise for absolutely everything that had ever happened to him, even if he wasn’t the one in the wrong. “Most of all,” Her throat tensed as he stared her down intensely. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you back.”

His lips shaped into a huge smile after a few seconds of emotionless shock, as if the news was the most impossible thing he’d ever heard.

“And you shouldn’t forgive me,” She shook her head insistently. That was another thing hse knew about him, he was the most forgiving person ever. She could absolutely ruin his life a million times and with a single ‘ I’m sorry’ , they’d return back to being best friends.

“But-”

“You can’t,” Not only did she not believe she deserved his love, she didn’t believe she deserved any sort of forgiveness from him, much less for him to still love her after all this. All she wanted was for him to not have any hurt from the whole ordeal anymore.

Lando tilted his head, his bottom lip tucked under his adorably gapped teeth. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” His eyes seemed impossibly bright despite the darkness, “Cause I want to love you, and it seems as if you love me too,” His right hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her chin.

That was correct, she still loved him more than anything. She could fight those feelings away, give him all the excuses under the sun as to why she wouldn’t be with him- but her heart and mind wanted different things. Logically, dating a formula one driver who’s whole life revolved around travel and constant adrenaline- her life that consisted of a lot of mundane jobs and chilling at home, they just clashed .

The illogical part of her, the part that was thinking with her heart, believed that nothing would be better than to attend races, watch from the grandstands, and kiss him after each race. She could comfort him if he had a bad race or quali, she could be there to celebrate with after a podium or even a win.

Right now, and maybe always, what her heart wanted was significantly outweighing what she thought was good for her. “Yeah, I do love you,” It didn’t feel or sound weird like it had when she’d told Daniel about it the night before. It felt good, really good. Very right too, because in all of her years of friendship with Lando- ever since she’d realised her feelings for him- she hadn’t ever admitted to herself that she loved him.

But of course she did, it was clear as day. If she ever heard of anyone ‘liking’ someone the way she ‘liked’ Lando, she’d know immediately it was love.

Her confession felt even better when she saw how his face managed to light up even further.

There was more she could’ve apologised for, and she could easily keep going, but she was quickly shut up with two lips pressed up against her own. Lando tasted just as sweet as he always did, a tinge of mint presumably from gum earlier on.

Her lips didn’t adjust into the kiss at first, until he began to pull back and her lips secured over his bottom one, keeping him there. It took a few moments to warm up to it, but her mouth starts moving in time with his. It’s so quiet in the living room that the only noise is the quiet hums and sighs they both let out. “I’m really sorry,” She murmured again

His hands moved to position her body to be straddling him, not necessarily to make the kiss sexual, but to make the angle more comfortable. “I forgive you,” His teeth tug on her bottom lip, drawing out the kiss for longer. He grinned against her lips, kissing her softer over and over. “And I love you,” He murmured again. “So- please- stop- apologising,” He kissed her in between each word, trying to push forward his point.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, “Okay,” Her cheeks felt hot to the touch, painted a darker shade of rosy red with each kiss. “Sorry,”

Lando groaned, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her in for more kisses. “For each time you apologise, I’m gonna shut you up with kisses,” He threatened, nudging her cheek with his nose.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna keep saying sorry then. Sorry, sorry, sorry” He kept his promise, kissing her after each and every apology. “Mmm, yeah. Sorry,” Her fingers slid into place in his mess of curls, tugging gently to keep him in place for each kiss.

“Bad idea.” He clicked his tongue, tilting his head to avoid her kisses. “No kisses till you stop saying it,”

That worked.

“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise,” She held out her pinky finger to further the promise. He kissed the tip of her finger and then held it tight.

“Good,”

“ Good ,” His lips slotted back into place with hers, his hands resting on her hips as hers tangled further into his hair. “You’re so pretty,” He hummed, licking into her mouth with slow and calculated moves.

“Hmm, you’re prettier,” Her whole body felt hot, but so cosy on top of him. She hadn’t quite realised how tired she was until that very moment, her words slightly slurred and her eyes heavy. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking away exhaustion.

He shifted underneath her, tucking his hands under her thighs to help wrap her legs around his waist. “Arms around my neck,” He whispered, intentionally keeping his volume to a minimum so as to not wake her up more.

Her body felt limp as she rested all her weight onto him. He lugged her upstairs, opening the door with one hand as his other arm remained around her waist. “Lannnn,” She whined as she pressed more kisses to his neck.

“Yeah baby?” He murmured as he laid her down on the bed, her body heavy and weak as it hit the mattress. “What’s up?” Her arms dropped down to her sides as they unlinked from around his neck.

“Stay,” It wasn’t a suggestion or question, more an incredulously desperate request. “Please, want you to stay,” She tugged at the hem of his shirt, wrapping it around her fingers.

He gave her a knowing look before nudging her over in the bed, crawling under the sheets next to her. “You’re not going to walk out this time?” He raised his eyebrows, his teeth poking out over his bottom lip when he grinned.

“I’m gonna say it,”

“Don’t” His voice went serious.

“I’m gonna say it,”

“Do.. not.. say.. It,”

“..Sorry,”

Lando let out a long groan, hauling himself half on top of her to smother her with his arms. “You are such a pain in my ass,”

“You love me,” She pecked him, fighting back sleep just so she could keep kissing him

“I do love you,” He caved and removed his arms, placing them on either side of her face to corner her and kiss all over her flushed face.

“I love you more,”

“Not possible,” He tutted, “And you need to sleep- now,” He nuzzled into her neck, his nose bumping against her ear.

“I just wanna stay up kissing,” She scrunched her nose up, her lip raising in disappointment.

Lando’s laugh was breathy against her skin, his hand idly swiping across her stomach to maintain some sort of touch. “Tomorrow. We’ll spend all of tomorrow kissing- I promise,”

That was satisfactory enough. She stared up at the ceiling, a complete different scenario from when she’d done exactly this last time with Lando laying on her. This time, there wasn’t a single cloud of doubt in her mind. She knew how much he loved her, she felt right being so close to him, not worried for how things might change between them and if it would be awful the day after. She just needed to keep faith and keep communication.

As she felt her eyelids getting too heavy to keep hers open, she swiped her hand over Lando’s forehead to push his hair up and place a kiss there. He looked up at her slightly, and with a smile, “Oscar lives in Melbourne,” He looked confused, probably thinking that he was mishearing her from lack of rest. “Huh?” His voice all deep and scruffy from sleep.

“The flight from Perth to Melbourne is over 3 hours- you can’t really just pop down the street to go visit Oscar,” Lando laughed weakly at that. He shrugged, wiggling up closer towards her so his chin was over her shoulder.

“He’ll come visit- he’ll be ecstatic to know that we’re on good terms again,” Her hand drifted up under his shirt, her thumbs pressing into the joints of his back.

“Oscar and ecstatic are two words that absolutely do not go together,” She mused, a complete disconnect from her mind and whatever her hand was doing. All she knew was that Lando was enjoying it based on the noises he was letting out.

“A half smile may dance across his mouth at the joyous information,” God , Lando had such a strange way with words.

“You’re weird ,”

“You love me,”

“I really do,”

#formula1 #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #f1 2024 #lando norris

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worldofkuro · 1 day

Text

Painted Smile

Painted Smile VI

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: It's a long chapter because it's Alastor's Point of View from the beginning until the end of Chapter IV. There is dark theme here, like racism, blood, dark thoughts. But I guess you know about it, it is about Alastor's story ! Please enjoy and tell me your thoughts, if you like having a long chapter about Alastor's thoughts.

“ Do you promise to be a good boy bébé?”

Alastor smiled at his mother and nodded. He would always be good for his mother, even if he didn’t like what he was supposed to do. Today, his mother had invited an old friend of hers, someone she used to know before she married his father, and this woman would bring her child with her, hoping that they could play together. His mother was so excited.

He didn’t care about them, but if his mother was happy, he'd put on a show.

He went into his bedroom to be sure everything was clean, but mostly to be sure that his secrets were kept safe. He took his journal, where all of his thoughts were written down. He hid it under a pile of clothes, if his father were to fall upon it, it would be a disaster and frankly, he didn’t want to get into another beating.

He lifted his head up as he heard noises downstairs. So the parasites have finally come. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled brightly. Easy. He tried different types of smiles before going downstairs quietly. He has learned not to make noises when he was walking, sometimes he could walk behind his fathers without him noticing.

And there you were. He tilted his head as he saw you took a photo and stared at it. You didn’t even sense him, you weren’t paying attention to what was going on around you. Your life must be so easy.

“ Do you not know that it is rather rude to touch others' belongings?”

He stopped himself from chuckling as you jumped, surprised. Heh, too easy.

“And it is rude to come unannounced behind a lady!”

A lady? His mother was a lady. Always proper, always smiling… You? You were… a naive, uninteresting girl so far. He did say to his mother that he would play nice… But he couldn’t help himself.

“ I see no lady.”

He wanted to laugh at your expression. How strange. You were giving him your reaction without faking it. In this house, everyone was faking it to make it out alive, even his Mother, faking a smile so his father could be “happy”. And when the emotion wasn't faked, it usually meant that problems were on their way. But you, you just expressed your expression out loud, without fearing it could put you in trouble. How strange.

He turned his head toward his mother who introduced you both. He was ready to go shake your hand but you came toward him and kissed him on both cheeks. The only person who kissed him like this was his mother. Who did you think you were ? His cheeks flushed with anger but he contained himself, not here, not in front of his mother… You wanted to play that game? Alright.

He waited for both of your mothers to go back in the kitchen before stepping closer to you, his face near yours. Hah, how you liked it when someone came too close toward you. He stared at your eyes, your eyes that seemed to say so many things, things he couldn’t comprehend, that he couldn’t grasp because he… he wasn't like you.

“ It’s rude to look at someone face this close!”

He almost coughed, you were the one who kissed him first but now HE was the one being rude? He easily made a lie saying he needed to be close to see. He saw your eyes relax and you almost seemed sorry. Were you watching him with pity? Oh no, he wouldn’t accept it. He’d prefer seeing you angry at him than watching him as if he was some kind of helpless kid who couldn’t fight for himself.

“ But now that I have seen you up close I can clearly say… I see no lady.”

He smiled when he saw your angry face.

----

Your parents were really curious about him. He didn’t really want to talk with them but he put on his mask and talked about school and other boring stuff. He almost lost his calm when he felt you kicked him in the shin. He stared at you as you were beaming with pride and joy because you were now the centre of attention. How naively cute.

His mother always told him to never hit a girl but… If it was an accident ? And you were the one to begin this war. He kicked you on the same spot you had kicked him. His smile widened when he saw you spilled your drink on the table. You were panicking so much and you had every reason to be.. if his father were to be here. He stared at you, drinking. You were a living experiment with your emotions shown so easily. You were still naive… But a tiny bit interesting.

He stood up from his chair when his mother invited you both to play outside. He walked in front of you but he was looking at your shadows which made it so easy to dodge your so-called kick. He looked at you with a beaming smile when he spotted your face. You seemed so surprised.. and a bit impressed.

“ So unladylike.”

He watched you as you stuck your tongue to him, he was sure you were thinking he couldn’t see you. How funny. He let you go toward the swing and watched you as you went higher and higher with each swing. He walked toward you as you closed your eyes and arched your back toward the ground. You seemed so light, like you could just fly at any moment. Now he was curious.

“Jump.”

You didn’t seem keen on jumping, saying things like you could hurt yourself or dirtying your dress. He kept his smile but felt kind of disappointed. Oh well, maybe you weren’t interested.

Or maybe you were!

He stared at you as you jumped when the swing was in its highest spot. He opened his mouth as he saw you, almost floating in the air, you seemed so free, so alive, so colourful, so… out of reach. He wanted to drag you down in hell with him. In his personal hell. In his life. Why were you so happy and he was–

“ Wow! Did you see that Alastor ! I did it ! Haha ! That was super amazing !” you laughed. He looked at you, you were looking at him like you wanted him to be proud of you. You were beaming, you were… cute. You just jumped off a swing because he dared you to do it and you did it. No question asked. Most of the people would have said they didn’t want to play with him and left. But you stayed. Strange…

He tried to suppress his laugh when you dared him to climb the tree. So easy. Once he climbed it he watched you. Now you were the one on the floor while he was near the sky. He looked at you as you watched him, impressed. It made him feel something so he decided to tease you once again.

“ I should thank you, now that I’m here, I don’t have to see your face.”

“ My face is pretty !”

Yes, it was.

“ Pretty ugly.”

“ Alastor !”

You played all afternoon, you always had another game to play, another riddle to solve. Your mind was always thinking about something new… But then you put your hand on his eyes and said that you had a great time with him. What kind of manipulative game was that? Saying a secret, trusting the other person to hold their tongue and never breathe a word of what you just said? How could you be so naive ? Life wasn’t fair. Sharing secrets would make you weak. Never reveal your scars, your secrets or your emotions.

He asked for another game, not wanting to see your face. Did you know that he could see everything in your eyes? Was that why you said your secret with a hand in front of his eyes, so he couldn’t see if you were in pain or happy?

He looked at you as you proposed a game of hide and seek. How cute. He would find you. He was a master of “hunting”. He closed his eyes and counted until fifty. He could already hear where you were going as you ran toward the forest. He smiled as he made you think he didn’t know where you were, he waited some time so you could be so sure of yourself you wouldn’t see him come.

And there you were.

“ Found you.”

You ran.

But what shocked him even further was that he couldn’t catch you. It was like you were flying through the grass, you weren’t watching where you were putting your feet while he was watching the floor, dodging the puddle of mudd, jumping over the branches that would have made him fall. He watched as you ran, he wanted to catch you. He didn’t know why, maybe to prove something to himself.

It seemed like it was time to say goodbye, he didn’t even see the time passing which was surprising, he always knew what time it was, knowing when his father would come back. You came toward him, you seemed sad.

“ Well.. Goodbye…”

Were you really sad ? How cute. But if it was the last time that he saw you, he would rather see you smile.. And , well , he wasn’t going to see you again right? He could tell you a secret. He covered your eyes.

“ I had fun and… you are pretty.”

He went to his mother as he watched you and your family leaving his house. When he went back home, his mother was watching him with an expectant smile. He tilted his hand, smiling at her, she seemed to have had a great afternoon, he was relieved.

“ Did you have a great time Alastor?”

He froze for a second. Did he? He stared at his hand, the hand that didn’t manage to catch you. Well, you were like a fresh breeze. Needed but short. He would have to live once again without feeling it.

“ Yes, I had a great time.”

—----

Alastor was doing his homework in the kitchen while his mother was cooking. Most of the time, his Father was away all week because he worked far from home, so his boss would give him a place to stay to avoid doing long travel. Which meant, when it was the weekend, his Father would do nothing but lay around in the house and if he had a bad week, well.. Let’s just say that his body remembered those days.

There, done!

He stood up from his chair, now that his homeworks was done, he could go and listen to his radio. He went to his bedroom and sat on his desk, listening to the radio until he heard noises downstairs. He didn’t remember his Mother telling him that they would have guests over… And then he heard them. Your footsteps. What was that feeling? His heart was beating louder as your footsteps were getting closer and closer.

He smirked when he heard his door open, did you really think you were being quiet ? He stayed silent waiting to feel you closer to him, and once he saw your shadow, he opened his mouth.

“ How rude, entering a boy’s bedroom without permission.”

“ I see no boy.”

He smiled as he approached his face towards yours making you blush. He didn’t know why, but he was… content seeing you in front of him with all of your emotions written across your face.

But he didn’t like this thought.

The fact that just your presence could make him feel things. You didn’t have the rights. That would mean that you had the upper hand on him, playing with him. No, you couldn’t know.

“ Why are you here?”

And there it was. You looked like a kicked puppy. He didn’t like it. He clearly didn’t like it. You were cute like this but he’d rather see you smiling even if he didn’t like what it made him feel. He suppressed his need to sigh at your face. You stuck your tongue at him, trying to hide the fact that he hurted you. You really were the cutest. Didn’t you see that he already saw your heartbroken expression? Seems like he needed to make things right. He touched your shoulder but you didn’t move. You were such an obstinate brat. He really was trying to be nice ! He sighed. Well…

He covered your eyes, smiling when he saw you flinching and spoke.

“ I didn’t expect…to be content to see you today.”

Your smile was really blinding. He wondered if you were aware of it? How could you smile so easily without fearing that you showed too much emotion? How could you trust him not to use the information you just told him with your smile: You liked being with him.

He was almost worried for your future. He looked at your hands as you raised it toward his face, clearly trying to cover his eyes. You really liked to touch him, didn’t you? He helped you as he took your hand and placed it in front of his eyes. Now what?

“ I wanted to see you too.” you confessed.

…

So that’s what it was.

He wanted to see you too.

How could you speak so freely? He took your hands off him and stared at you, maybe if he stared long enough in your eyes, he could get an answer. The only answer he got? He didn’t flinch when you kissed his cheeks not because he was scared but because didn’t feel the need to push you away. How strange…

He smirked as you told him about making him food. So you asked about him. You didn’t forget about him. Interesting..

He tilted his head as you ordered him to dance. He could dance, his Mother had teached him, he couldn’t wait but show you. He gave you a big smile and held his hand toward you but you went off script. You took his hand and just started to jump around, holding his hand. You encouraged him to do just like you but he was so confused. Was that dancing ? Maybe it was your way of dancing… Well, it was chaotically cute.. But let him show you how it’s done.

He took your hands and twirled you just like his Mother taught him. You seemed impressed once again, he really liked that. He didn’t know why but he wanted you to keep on watching him like this. You let go of his hand and walked toward his bed before throwing his pillow in his face. He didn’t expect it. He stared at your laughing face. You thought you were funny huh?

He took the pillow and ran toward you, pinning you on the floor and hitting you softly with his pillow. “ Rule number one, never drop your guard.” He hitted you with his pillow. “ Rule number two, I’m the strongest here.” he hitted you once again. “ Rule number three, give up.” He smiled as he watched you trying to sit up. You were really trying to get away ? He held the pillow above his head and then he saw it.

Your gaze fell on a bruise from his father. Ah, were you going to ask questions? What excuses should he invent this time? He tried to help his mother but failed? No, it was impossible. As he was swimming through his thoughts you took his hand, placed it on your eyes and began to talk. You talked and talked and talked, you really couldn’t stop huh?

But he listened.

To every word.

He stood up and helped you when he heard his mother calling you downstairs. He followed you to the sofa and sat down, listening to your mothers talking. Seemed like you weren’t as patient as him, he could already see boredom settling on your face. But then you ran off the living room saying stuff about a kitty. He smiled at the ladies and went outstairs, staring at you and the cat. This bloody cat who was always hissing at him…

Maybe if he stopped affraying it, the cat would calm down? Huh…

He came closer and as expected the cat began to hiss but then it hurted you. He stared at your bleeding hand and took it in his. You were trying so hard not to cry. Why? You’ve been showing him every single of your emotions since you have met, why would you hide something that he wanted to see? Why did you not want to share yourself with him? He didn’t remember the last time he or his Mother cried. What would you look like? Without even being aware he dug his nails in your cut making you scream. He stared at you, you didn’t seem angry at him, but confused.

“ Don’t be ashamed, you can cry. I… I think I want you to cry.” Now he was the one being confused. Why would he want to see you cry? Because that means you trusted him enough to show yourself at your weakest. You began to cry, louder than necessary for such a little cut. But he let you. You were crying in front of him without feeling ashamed. You trusted him not to hurt you even more. You were an open book for him, a book he wanted to keep on reading.

But he’d rather see you smile.

He opened his mouth, ready to make a joke but he froze once he heard his voice.

“Alastor.”

He kept you against him. He remembered his Father hitting him because he was crying, he needed to hide your tears from his Father. He didn’t deserve to see you in that state. He didn’t trust his Father and neither should you.

“ Why is this chick crying ? For God’s sake, what have you done boy?”

“ The cat scratched her.”

“ This stupid cat… I’ll shoot it next time.”

He stared as the man went inside the house. It was going to be a hard night… He didn’t want to explain everything to you about his Father, you didn’t need to know. All you needed to know was how to be safe from this man. He covered your eyes with his hand.

“ Never cry in front of this man.”

He didn’t let go of you until you nodded. Then he took you to his Mother so she could clean your cut. Better safe than sorry.

Before leaving you told him about the pizza that you made with your Mother. He sneaked with you to the kitchen, he knew that his Father would eat all of the food you made so he wanted to share it with you before it could be stolen from him. You were so eager for his feedback, he almost wanted to say it tasted bad but after what he did to your hand he decided to be honest and made the promise to cook you something next time. You beamed and kissed him on both cheeks before leaving with your Mother.

—--

He was so excited.

His Mother had told him that you would have a sleep over while his Father wasn’t home. It was perfect! He also had another game he wanted to play with you. His Mother had bought him a microphone thanks to his good grades at school. He wanted to do a radio broadcast with you. He wanted to share his dream with you just like you shared your emotions with him. He was in his bedroom, re-reading his note to be sure that everything was perfect. He asked his mother to do his hair like adults, so now his hair was slicked back. He looked at himself in the mirror. That would do.

“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.

His grin got even bigger. He opened his bedroom door and stared at your outfit. You were cute, as always. You kissed him on both cheeks, like usual and he tugged you inside his now radio booth!

“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he shoved you on a chair. “ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You gave him a big smile and began to introduce yourself even saying he was the best radio host of all New Orleans. He couldn’t help giggling, you were playing your part perfectly. Maybe when he would have had his own radio station he would invite you as a very special guest.

He kept talking as you read the notes he had just given you, he kind of expected you to fumble but once again you surprised him. You were natural, talking about what was written on his notes but then you went off script and made him laugh. You were amazing.

He kept doing his part as the radio host, explaining about why your sleepover has to be delayed to this day. You didn’t ask much more information but was happy he punched the boy who badmouthed his mother. Calling her such a disgusting word…

You both kept playing, sometimes he would forget about your presence, but when he noticed that his voice was the only thing he could hear he would turn toward you, ordering you to talk. You had a pretty voice, why not use it?

Well, he didn’t expect you to raise your voice against him when he said he couldn’t understand people liking sweet things. You were so convinced that there was something wrong with him for not liking sweets. Well, shouldn’t you feel appreciated ? You were the sweetest thing he ever laid his eyes upon and he kept you by his side, didn’t he? He closed his eyes still smiling as you kept blablating with his Mother’s laugh echoing in his bedroom. He liked it. He really liked this moment, if he could, he would like to record this moment so he could play it again and again.

After his Mother’s departure he went toward the letter he wrote with questions for you. You thought the game was over? Think again.

He asked you many questions, well of course the questions weren’t from him, but from the audience ! You answered to all of them honestly and there came the last one. He took the letter and read it to you.

“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?”

He could see your answer in your eyes before you even opened your mouth. He already knew what you were about to say. He already knew. But he was waiting eagerly so you could say those words he desperately needed to hear. Say it, say it, say it…

“ He is the best!”

Yes, and so were you.

And you needed to know it.

He tugged you downstairs saying you needed to sing or the broadcast couldn’t end. He sat in front of the piano as you were flustered with his microphone in your hands. He smiled at you and then closed his eyes. He wanted you to feel powerful. But first, he needed you to be less insecure about your abilities. So the first lesson would be: singing.

And sing you did. When you stopped being a coward and really sang like the singer that you were, he couldn't help but open his eyes to admire you. Even if some of the notes weren’t the best, you were giving it your all. You were giving him all of you at that moment.

He couldn’t be more proud.

You were the best.

He couldn’t stop himself from crushing you against him as he said goodbye to your audience. Everything was perfect, you were here, his mother too and there were smiles on every lips.

—--

“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile, holding a plushie. He was behind you, waiting for his Mother's command. Truthfully, he didn’t want you to go to sleep with his Mother right away. He still had other games he would like to play with you. As soon as his Mother accepted, you ran into his bedroom with him following you. You were on his bed with this…

“ What is it ?”

“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.”

He listened to your story. So you didn’t know how to swim, he would have to train you. You shouldn’t have so many weaknesses, it was dangerous. But then you started talking about how your deer plushie was protecting you. What were you saying, were you so tired that thinking was too difficult for you?

“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”

“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?”

Did he want to try to squeeze a plushie? Not really. Not at all.

“ How can he protect you?”

You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !”

Once again , you were looking at him with those eyes he couldn’t refuse anything. He suppressed a sigh and squeezed the deer against him and closed his eyes. It has your scent. He could feel himself relax. Yeah… It felt nice. If he were to hug you like this, would you also be this soft? He was getting taller than you, have you noticed it? Maybe one day, he would be able to hug you just like this plushie? Would you feel safe in his arms? Or would you try to run away?

“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?”

Our.

He opened his eyes, staring right in your soul. Ah, you were panicking. Did you think he didn’t like that you use “ our” instead of “ his” ? You were so cute!

“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”

You both laid on his bed, he still held the plushie against him. He really needed to find him a name, names are important. He listened to you blablating about how he was supposed to take care of the deer. It looked like a fawn for him but whatever.

“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, with no trace of fatigue on his face, he was used to not sleeping, because of nightmares or just because he needed to be aware of what his father’s doing in the house. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow.

“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.”

It was his job to protect you..? He would do it. He would protect your smile, he would protect your dazzling eyes that seemed to never lose their sparkes.

“ … So, do I need to hug you?”

“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”

Does he want to?

He covered your eyes with his hand. Within the next five minutes you were asleep, he took off his hand and stared at your face.

Did he want to hug you?

He looked at the fawn in his arms. You were cuter than your plushie, so that made you huggable. He touched your cheeks with his finger but you didn’t move. He nudged you with his feet but you stayed asleep. You must be feeling very safe to sleep like this. He would awake at any noise in the house.

Did he want to hug you?

He wasn’t touching you but he could feel your body warm from here. Were you too hot? Did he need to take off the blanket ? But maybe you liked being warm? You were so problematic, did you know that? He stared at the ceiling, he knew he wasn’t going to fall asleep soon…

Did he want to hug you?

He put the fawn between his body and yours, whispering in your ear. He hoped you would stay asleep, he didn’t want anyone to witness what he was going to say.

Did he want to hug you?

“ Yes, if you hug me back.”

—-----

He was blushing as his Mother was asking him if he slept well. She had a teasing glint in her eyes, she must have seen! When he woke up, he had you in his arms. He quietly left the bed, leaving the fawn with you.

“ Alastor, this was a very cute scene!”

He didn’t care if this was cute, it was embarrassing ! He hid his face in his Mother dress. Could she just forget about it?

“ Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.” she kissed the top of his head with a beaming smile. He smiled at her, his mother seemed happier since she found your mother back. He liked it. He decided to go back to his room to see if you awakened but what was surprising was that he saw you with his microphone, talking with the fawn. How could the fawn protect you, it looked like you were the one protecting it with the way you were holding it against you. You were so strange.

“ I knew you would play with it.” you blinked at him. He looked at your bed hair and couldn’t help but smile. You looked silly like this ! “ Eamon told me you were using the microphone.” You tilted your head.

“ Who ?”

“ Our deer. He needs a name, don’t you think?” he stroked your plushie’s head while mumbling “ even if he looks more like a fawn than a deer…”

“ He is a deer ! I’m sure you never saw one !” you huffed as you squeezed Eamon against your chest.

“ Actually, I did when Father took me hunting.” he tilted his head as he saw your horrified face. Why did you take a step back?

“ You killed a deer ?”

“ No, I saw one. And most of them have brown fur, not like ours who have a white one.” Why did you seem so confused?

“ But… Why is your father taking you with him.. to hunt..?” you asked, confused.

To kill of course.

But he couldn’t tell you that. His father wanted him to be a man, and man went hunting. His father showed him how to kill while threatening him.

If you don’t want to end up like this, shut your trap.

When he first went hunting , he was terrified but now, he would just stare at the dead animal wondering if he will be the target next time. So far, he was alive. How lucky ! But once again, he couldn’t tell you that, could he? Would you be worried for him?

“ It’s not for little girls, that’s for sure. You wouldn’t bear it.” He teased you.

“ Hey! I saw things too, I’m not a little girl!”

Did you? Were you like him? Did you see things that made you reconsider your morals? Did you see things that made you throw up? Did you see things that made you want to run away and never look back. Did you–

“ My father tried to eat my mother one day.”

…

Now, that was horrifying.

—--

You went downstairs to eat breakfast as he went to the bathroom to wash up. He stared at his body. The bruises were no longer on his body, that was nice. He went to the kitchen and sat next to you. Strange, you were looking at him like you knew something that he didn’t. Did his Mother tell you what happened ? No, she wouldn’t. So why–

“ Next time, we should have a sleepover at my house ! I could show you my room !” you smiled excitedly.

He tensed. He would love to go to your place, being able to see your house. How did you decorate your room? But he couldn’t leave his Mother alone with his Father. What if he decided to come back drunk and beat his mother while he was enjoying himself, free of worries, at your place. No, he couldn’t. He looked at you and there was the kicked puppy stare…

“ I… I don’t like leaving my mother alone at home.”

“ But we will choose a day where your father is home!” you nudged him, trying to coat him to come with you at your house. “ Please Alastor… I really want you to come.” you pleaded as you held his forearms with your small hands. “ You don’t want to..?”

I want to.

He bit his lips, he wanted but he couldn’t. Wasn’t it the meaning of his life? Wanting without having the power to be able to do what he wanted. Fortunately, his Mother had sensed his discomfort and she offered to come with him for your next sleepover.

He relaxed. Yes, like this, it would be perfect.

The day went on as you both “gossiped” as his Mother called it. But unfortunately, it was time for you to leave. You asked Eamon to take care of him and then you asked him to take care of Eamon. You were cute but as asked, he would take care of your Fawn.

—-------

He was in the forest with his Father, holding a rifle. It was a familiar feeling to hold the weapon in his little hand. He was used to it now. He was walking, alongside his father who was making so much noise, how could they hunt like this?

“ Here, be a useful brat, shoot it.”

He shot the partridges which fell down near him. Should he be afraid of himself ? He couldn’t feel anything as he watched the life leaving the animal’s eyes. It was almost boring, he was stronger so he won. It was that easy.

Would you be scared of him?

He stopped himself. You were the first real friend he has ever made. If you were to see him like this, would you be afraid of him? Would you let him explain? He turned his head toward his father as the man pointed to a deer not too far. He could shoot it. It would be easy.

But then he saw your face. He knew this deer wasn’t the one who saved you but this time, for you, he would not kill it. He knew you wouldn’t forgive him.

“Alastor, shoot it..!”

He just stared at the beautiful beast not too far from him. He stared into its eyes as the animal saw him before running off. How he envied the animal right now…

He heard his Father before feeling the punch in his face.

Ah, today it was going to be harder than usual.

“ You brat!”

A kick in his stomach.

He wondered if you were sleeping right now? You always fell asleep so easily, he was almost envious. Maybe next time, he’ll ask you how you manage to find the sweet relief of falling asleep.

“ How useless!”

Another kick in his stomach.

Ah, his Mother was going to be so sad once she saw him. Maybe his Father would let him wash himself up in the water?

“ You nigga !”

Aand there it was. That disgusting word. He felt his Father grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged him toward their home. His Father threw him inside his bedroom, Alastor’s head hitting the wall.

Seemed like his mother was out buying groceries. Good, she wouldn’t have to see that. He stared at his Father, smiling. The man took off his belt and began to hit him on his back, forcing him to lay on his belly. Alastor stared in front of him and saw Eamon, staring back at him. He didn’t know why, but he moved. He stood up as his Father shouted at him to stay in his place. He took the plushie against him, keeping his back toward his Father but he stayed standing.

His father hit him on his back with his belt once again but Alastor didn’t fall on the ground. He crushed the plushie against him as he closed his eyes.

It was going to be over soon. He would see you this weekend, you would play together, you would show him your neighbourhood, you would give him something sweet to eat.

He opened his eyes and saw with sadness that Eamond was dirty with his own blood. He touched his nose, oh yes, his father did punch him in the forest. Aah, he needed to clean it before you came back.

His back felt wet and stinky. Was he sweating that much? Normally he could handle it better? He sniffed.

Ah, blood.

He didn’t remember when he passed out but when he woke up, Eamon was still in his arms.

“ ça va aller mon bébé, regarde Maman.”

He looked at his Mother, her smile wobbling. He just closed his eyes and squeezed Eamon, the plushie didn’t have your scent anymore, but it has his blood’s.

—---

He didn’t know why, but each week his Father would hit him with his belt on his torso or back even when his Mother was begging for him to stop. He had to go to school with bandages all over his body but his face. But he never cried, nor asked his Father to stop. He would just think that soon, you would come and the Hell he was living would come to a pause. Each time, he was thinking.

Next week.

But you never came.

It’s been almost a month. Did something happen to you? Were you sick? Maybe he could ask his Mother to see if you were okay? He was on his bed, clinging to Eamon, his back was hurting so much he almost wanted to bite off his hand from the pain.

But no, he just stared in the void, losing his smile. And then, a thought struck him.

Was killing a human any different than an animal?

His eyes widened, but before he could deepen his thoughts on the subject, he heard footsteps downstairs. Yours footsteps. It was you. He was sure of it. He heard the door smashed open, well, weren’t you full of energy today?

“ So unladylike. I could recognize your footsteps anywhere.”

He frowned when he didn’t hear any witty come back from you. Well?

“ I.. I made your favorite dish..” you whispered, your voice trembling with each word as you tried to speak out loud.Why did you sound like that? “ Can… Can I see you?”

You wanted to see his pathetic self right now? You really had a bad timing, you’ll have to work on it, really.

“ No.”

“ Please…” you begged, it sounded like you were crying, why were you crying?. “ I was so worried… My father told me what happened–”

“ What did he tell you?” His voice was colder than usual. He didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want anyone to know.

“ That… That you went hunting with your dad and–” you approached the bed and flinched when you felt his hand covering your eyes. So you were crying, he thought. He could feel your tears wetting the palms of his hands. “ Because of your father you- you have been hurt.” you cried, holding his wrist with one of your hands. “Alastor, I was so scared..!”

Me too, I was so scared.

“ Keep your eyes closed.”

He couldn't help himself. He hugged you. You were finally here. Hell was over for some time. He wanted to see you so bad. He wanted to see you…

“Yes, I wanted to see you.”

“ Are you hurting?”

“ No. Remember Rules number two: I’m the strongest here.”

He smiled as he heard you laugh. Yes, everything would turn out nicely. He just had to be more careful. To be more observant. He would be the strongest for you. You’ll never have to worry for him to the point of crying. Nobody would keep your friendship from you. He sighed in relief, you were here…

“ I want to see your face.”

Mhn.. Well, as long as it is just his face. He stepped back and smiled at you. You didn’t have to worry.

“ Be my guest.”

His smile widened when he saw your confused face. You must have thought he would have injuries on his face heh?

“ You said you wanted to see my face, not my injuries.” he smiled cunningly at you while holding Eamon against his chest.

“ Why do our deer have pink…red spots on him?” you tilted your head, stroking its fur.

Ah, right. His Mother had tried but she couldn’t wash all the blood he had lost on the fawn each week. Were you going to be upset ? He didn’t protect your fawn even though he told you he would take care of it. Were you going to be disappointed in him?

“ I’m sorry. I bled on him.”

He watched as you sat next to him and gently kissed his cheeks, resting your lips against his skin. Did you know it was the spot his father had punched weeks prior ? Of course, you wouldn’t know. He only could feel your lips, the pain in his back wasn’t there anymore. He squeezed your hand. He missed you… He missed this…

“ I missed you.” you both said.

He smiled softly, as you began to explain all the week he has missed. He felt his heart soared when you explained how you had made a scene so you could come and see him. He had to tease you, because if not, he felt like he would explode with happiness. You have missed him, his presence was something you wanted, he was important for you.

Unfortunately, you had to go.

Well, Hell is forever, right?

He went downstairs, keeping his hand around yours. You seemed so worried. He looked at you after your mother asked about his well being. Why were you so quiet ?

“ I promise, I’ll see you soon.”

“ You promise? How do I know if you are going to be sick, or injured once again?”

Oh that’s why.

You were so cute. Unfortunately, he couldn’t promise to never be injured again, he would be breaking his promise tonight. What kind of promise could he conjure that would make you both ties to each other forever.

“ Let’s make a deal.”

He approached his face close to yours and kissed your forehead. You blushed and he couldn’t feel bad about it, red suited you.

“ You always kiss me good morning, so now, I’ll kiss you goodbye. Now, you owe me a good morning kiss.” he smiled at you teasingly as he took a step back. “ Do we have a deal?”

Please, say yes.

“ Deal.”

He smiled, now he knew that even though he would suffer because of his father, you would always come back to him, healing him without being aware of it. You were his special.. Something. You were the one painting a true smile on his lips. You were his special person.

Tag List: lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @boogiemansbitch @sodavizz @tessemerick @slytherin4ever

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magics-neptunes-things · 2 days

Text

Comfort

Hi guys!

It was Cata's birthday tuesday, so here is a little something for her :)

It's from a request too, I really need to sort them x)

Also please Barca, win today i need it.

Enjoy!

TW : Lost, angst.

There you are. The first lost of Barcelona for this season. It’s coming at the first moment of the year honestly, you would have preferred to lose against another Spanish team than to lose against Chelsea during the Champion’s league. You still have another game to win and go to the finale, but it would be at London and pretty hard. You already know it.

Looking around you, you saw that all of your teammates are gutted. Lucy is sitting on the ground; Ona went straight to the locker room and Alexia let another players comfort her. For your point, you just stay up where you were when the whistle whistled. Your hand on your hips, you weren’t looking at something special at first.

Until your eyes went on the silhouette of your girlfriend. Cata is sitting on the ground, a little like Lucy unless that she’s leaning against the goal post. Her knees bent against her and her arms surrounding them, she has her eyes fixed on her feet.

She seems so sad that you forget almost immediately your proper sadness. Walking slowly in her direction, you try not to ignore the other people talking to you. When you reach Cata, you kneel in front of her.

“Hey” you say quietly, putting your hand on her arm.

She looks briefly at you, before shaking her head. You know that she feels guilty about the lost, but you think that every single player of the team has that feeling. You don’t say another word, getting on your feet again before helping her to get up too. You don’t want to have to do the post-game interview, so you take another way to go to the locker room.

Of course, the general mood is awful. Nobody’s talking, nobody’s looking at each other. It’s so tense that you propose at Cata to go take a shower at your apartment to go home sooner. Cata agrees with a nod, still not talking. Knowing how much she’s bubbly, happy and smiling usually, it breaks your heart.

You say goodbye to your other teammates, grabbing Cata’s hand to take her with you. Hiding under her hood, she’s still silence. People forget sometimes that she’s only 22 years old, Cata forget sometimes too you think. She’s always way too hard with herself.

You manage to get to your car without meeting fans or journalists, you usually take time to talk with the people coming to see you, but today your girlfriend’s happiness is more important than anything else.

“You want to put some music?” you ask at your girlfriend when you are on your car.

She nods, taking your phone in her hand before looking at something you both will like. You’re not really hard to satisfy honestly, as long as you can concentrate yourself while driving. When Cata put your phone down, you take her hand in yours, squeezing it lovingly.

She looks at you and make a half-smile, which isn’t so bad. You interlink your fingers and take the way of your apartment. Cata doesn’t ask you where you are going and when she realizes that you’re going to yours, she doesn’t protest either.

“Do you want me to cook something?” you ask softly when you’re home.

Cata just shakes her head, sitting on a stool in your kitchen, where she followed you. You put a bottle of her favorite Prime in front of her and try to cross her eyes before talking again.

“Pa amb oli?” you propose.

“With white onions?”

She raises a hopeful look on you and you can’t help but smile. This meal, coming right from her natal island of Mallorca is like her comfort food. You kiss her cheek softly before turning to the fridge to prepare two plates of the dish. You like it too; the first time you try it, it was when Cata took you in Mallorca to meet her family. You loved every single thing coming from this island, maybe because it’s linked with your girlfriend, who you are really fond of.

You are deep in your thought, rubbing the tomato on the bread with an ability that would have made Alexia proud, when you feel Cata’s body against yours. Hiding her face in your neck from behind, she hugs you so tight that you have the impression that she wants to come under your skin. Literally.

You smile and keep cooking, thankfully you don’t need to move a lot around the kitchen for this dish. When you are finished, you turn around in her arms and take her face between your hands. Looking at her with attention, you try to choose wisely your words, not wanting to hurt her. Or make her feel more terrible that she’s feeling right now.

“You know that we didn’t lose because of you, right?”

She frowns, not answering. That’s exactly what you thought. Right after she sights and look away, you softly pat her cheek to drag her attention in you again.

“I’m serious. No one play good today, unless maybe Alessia. We were all too scared to lose, maybe too tired too. We have 90 minutes left. We can win and go to the finale.”

“I don’t think Jona will put me on the goal again” Cata sights, shaking her head.

“Why that?” you frown.

“I didn’t have a clean sheet. In the World Cup when Misa play bad, she went to the bench for the next matches. Vilda didn’t hesitate for a second.”

“Yeah, well first don’t compare that asshole to Jonatan please” you hiss, hating hearing that man’s name. “And if goalkeepers were benched every time, they let a ball pass the net, we won’t have a lot of them on the pitches.”

She shrugs, not really convinced by what you are saying. But you don’t insist, knowing that she needs some time to figure out all of this. You chose to give her plate and follow her wherever she wants to eat. She chose your balcony, from where you have a good view on the sea and the port.

And, when you see that Cata ate her meal in five minutes, your smirk and push your plate in her direction. The goalkeeper raises an interrogator gaze on you before smiling when you signal her that she can finish your plate.

After that, she takes the dishes in the kitchen without hearing your protests that you can help her. Then she comes back, takes you from your chair in her arm, making you squeak in the process. She laughs and you can only smile. You love hearing her laugh.

When she throws you on the sofa, you already know the end of the evening. Endless cuddles in front of TV. She puts Netflix on before laying on top of you. You let her do it, drawing smalls drawing on her skin, under her top.

“I love you” she mumbles out of the blue, several minutes after.

“I love you too” you smile, kissing her head in a weird angle.

She smiles when she sees you doing it, raising herself a little to be able to kiss you right on the lips. She strokes your face with her thumb, and you find yourself blush under her gaze. It’s quite intense but you love it.

“Thank you” she whispers, almost shyly.

“What for?” you ask with curiosity.

“For being you. And have take the time to learn with my mom how to make the perfect Pa amb oli.”

“All the best for the best” you smirk.

She rolls her eyes before kissing you again several times. Just like you were losing some interest in the film you were watching and getting maybe a little too work up, she stops and smirk before laying on you again.

“You’re the worst” you groan.

“Oh? I thought I was the best?”

You can hear her smile in her voice and you roll your eyes. You don’t answer though, but you know that she knows what you think. She’s the best and you are definitively way to in love with her to be mad at her.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #cata coll x reader #cata coll #cata coll imagine

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disasterfandoms · 2 days

Text

Sick Buckley || An Evan Buckley Imagine

Request: “Can you do one please where buck is sick and you take care of him please.”

A/N: hi! This is my first imagine I’ve written in a long, long time, so I’m sorry that it’s short! I hope everyone enjoys it!

TW: mentions of puke/gagging

If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, shoot me a message! I’ll eventually remake a taglist form and re-set up everything for this blog, might just take me a minute.

It was never a good thing to hear the sound of your boyfriend, Buck, running to the bathroom at three in the morning. You sigh and rub your face as you hear the gags and sounds of his groans echoing through the apartment.

Getting up, you patter your way to the bathroom, silently rubbing his back as he continued to be sick, grimacing as it started to sound particularly painful. You moved away from him after a few moments, going to grab a wet wash cloth to place on the back of his neck, and then another so he can wipe his face after he was finished.

”Sorry,” Buck whispered, as he hadn’t wanted to wake you. He gratefully took the washcloth, wiping his face, but didn’t make a move off of the bathroom floor.

Shaking your head, you mutter, “No apologizing, you’re sick.” Giving him a small smile, you run a hand through his hair. You wish you could take the illness from him, but for now the best you could do was try and help him through it. “Now,” you continued, “Bathroom floor, or back to bed?”

”Floor,” he grumbled, resting his head against the toilet seat. He could feel his stomach churning, and he knew it was going to be a long night.

Nodding, you go and grab his pillow and his favorite covers, as well as some water for him for when he felt ready to take a few sips. You brought them back to him, rubbing his back as you got him settled into the makeshift bed.

“Thank you,” you heard Buck whisper as you had started to go back to bed.

”For what?”

”Taking care of me,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

”Always, Evan,” you smiled, “I love you.”

”I love you too,” he murmured, watching as you went back to bed, happy to have someone who would always help him.

#9-1-1#Evan Buckley #Buck #Evan Buckley imagine #buck imagine #9-1-1 imagine #911 #911 imagine #evan buckley x reader

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allysunny · 2 days

Note

Hi! Can I pls request dating headcanons for Bale Batman with a female reader who used to works as his assistant but now helps Alfred with batman related work? Like reader is not a superhero but helps Alfred with his duty? Also reader is a very sunshiny person, kind and loving? Thank you ❤️

Lover's Liaison

Pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 5.7 words

Warnings: Lots of fluff, workplace relationship, kissing and making out, lots of fluff, lots of pining, idiots in love, suggestive themes and one mention of oral sex but nothing too explicit, use of the word "Batmanning", this was written on the span of 3 weeks so I'm sorry if it sucks or isn't coherent?? Not proofread omg I'm so sorry! If I forgot anything, do let me know!!!

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Oh my god!!! I finally got around to write this one request that I got mixed up a few weeks ago!!!! I love this dynamic so much and want this man to be my boss only for me to bring him coffee and massage his shoulders omg...

As stated in the warnings though, I am in the middle of my final evaluations and exams, so this was written over the span of like,, 3 weeks. I apologise if some things are not coherent or repetitive, I am trying my best but uni is kicking my ass.

Anyway, I'm sorry it took so long anon!!!! I hope you enjoy this <3

Being Bruce Wayne’s assistant meant a lot of things.

It meant you sometimes pulled all-nighters when your boss decided 8 hours of work simply wasn’t enough.

“Ah, I'm so sorry, but I'm busy that day,” you said sheepishly after Mr. Rivers from Accountancy asked you out for dinner.

“Come on princess, can’t you tell your big boss to give you a free night? A pretty thing like you shouldn't have to work that much. C’mon, let me show you how a real man should treat you.” He said, cornering you against a desk and inching his hand closer and closer to your waist.

You looked away uncomfortably, silently praying for him to sense your discomfort and walk away. You didn't want to hurt his feelings or make him mad. You were afraid he’d take it out on you, or worse, on Bruce, by causing harm to his company - and you couldn't have that.

“Mr. Rivers, I – “

“Chet, please. Do call me Chet.”

“Mr. Rivers,” you repeated, pressing uncomfortably against the desk, not wanting the man’s hands on your body. “Please, this is hardly appropriate. I must go back to my office, and – and – “

“I’m sure your boss will understand. You can’t possibly tell me he’s hired you for your skills now, can you? He understands you’re a pretty girl. Surely, he should've known someone would snatch you up, hm?” Mr. Rivers’s grin was catlike, in the worst way possible. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and tears welled up in your eyes at his insinuation. Surely that was not all Mr. Wayne had hired you for, right? He complimented you on your choice of clothing, sure, and he’d once or twice gifted you pieces he said he knew you’d look lovely on. But he had also more than once commended your work ethic, thanked you for your efficiency and praised your skills. He valued you as an employee, not just someone he could look at. Right?

“Actually, Mr. Rivers, I employ all of my workers based on their skills,” a voice boomed behind the accountant, firm and unwavering. Chet Rivers turned around only to be met with Bruce Wayne’s hard, stony gaze. “And it seems I clearly must've made a mistake with you, because if I had known you’d be treating my employees like this – especially my personal assistant, I wouldn't have allowed you to set foot in Wayne Enterprises. You disgrace my father’s memory by engaging in this type of behaviour inside the company he built.”

Mr. Rivers scrambled to find a reply, only to stutter a few times and shake his head, at a complete loss for words.

“Out. Now. I want your office cleared by the end of the day.”

“But – But Mr. Wayne, I – I have been in this company for years, I – “

“If your office isn't cleared by the time the clock strikes five, I will personally ensure you will never land another job again and carry around a note claiming you are a known sexual harasser. Are we clear?” Bruce said, eyes darkening.

“I – Sir – “

“The clock is ticking. If I were you, I'd make quick work of packing.”

With a few more incoherent words, the now ex-employee was out the door, and Bruce was slowly walking up to you. He gave you enough space to walk away, should you want to, but kept at a friendly distance, should you want him.

“Are you okay?” He asked in that sweet voice reserved for his closest people – you.

You nodded quickly, rubbing your arm in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn't want it to come to this, to you firing him. It really was nothing – “

“Nonsense. He was harassing you. You told him you weren't interested and yet he still pursued you. He should've known ‘no’ is a complete sentence and left you alone. Understood?”

You nodded once again, looking at the floor. Bruce walked even closer and lifted your chin up with your fingers, forcing you to look at him – and yet his grip wasn't bruising. It was soft, feather-like. Bruce touched you as if he was afraid you’d vanish right before his eyes. Maybe he was.

“It’s not your fault that he acted like an ass. Got it?”

Another nod.

“Say it for me.”

Your heart would always follow Bruce Wayne. You couldn't refuse anything from him, and so you found yourself whispering a soft “It’s not my fault”, which earned a smile from him.

“And you’re an amazing worker. You’re efficient and smart, and extremely kind. You're the best personal assistant anyone could've asked for. I hired you for your skills, not your looks. You're extremely competent. The only competent worker around here.”

You chuckled, familiar with that line.

“Understood?”

Another curt nod – this one more confident.

“Say it for me. Please.”

“I’m extremely competent.”

“That’s my girl.”

He then seemed to snap back to reality and let go of your face, stepping back.

“I’ll be in my office for the rest of the afternoon. If you want to, you can have the rest of the day off.”

This caused you to shake your head and smile confidently at him.

“No need for that. Gotta make sure I do my job, right? Otherwise, who else will?”

Bruce chuckled at this, and it made your heart flutter. “Exactly.”

“You haven't eaten yet, so I thought…” you shrugged, handing him the plastic salad containers.

“What would I do without you?” He asked, looking up from his computer to be met with the most dazzling smile.

“I’m not sure. But I'm glad I can help.”

“You eaten yet?”

“No sir, not yet.”

“Join me.”

You didn't have to be asked twice. You found Bruce’s presence relaxing, calm. You liked to be around him. Lunch breaks, just like overtime, allowed you to truly meet the man behind the suit, and you cherish that time with all your heart. It also allowed you to take a good look at him, at his handsome features, his strong jaw and hard eyes that could turn soft within mere seconds. At his lips, so often pressed into a straight line, but also capable of saying the kindest of words.

Unbeknownst to you, he also took these moments as an opportunity to drink in your beauty. The lovely curve of your face, your sweet lips that managed to brighten up his days, be it with your words or your laughter, the eyes he always looked for when he was nervous, the body he so wished to pull close and worship.

He was completely whipped by you. And yet he had no idea how to go about it.

He couldn't just ask you to date him – he was Bruce Wayne. Whoever he dated would be dragged into the public light, and he didn't want people prying into your personal life the way they did to his. Worse than that, he was your boss. He didn't want to taint his company's image by appearing to be some sort of creep who harassed his workers into sleeping or being in relationships with him. He was the boss, of course, and could smother any and all rumours and make sure his company’s image remained the same as his father would have wanted it to be, but most of all, he wanted to protect you. From the scrutiny of coworkers and papers and crazy paparazzi.

Little did he know, you’d go through all that trouble for him.

“Be mine,” he said, forehead touching yours as you caught your breath. “Please, be mine. I’m crazy about you, and I can’t keep pretending I’m not. You’re such an incredible woman, so brilliant and bright,” he mumbled, fingers drawing patterns on your skin. “I’m crazy about you. I know I shouldn’t, because I’m your boss, but I just can’t stop thinking about you. I know that I’m asking a lot from you, and if you’re not interested, then you can just say no. We can forget this has ever happened, and it won’t change the way I see you at work. If you want to quit, you can also do so, and I’ll give your next employer the best of recommendations. But,” Bruce lifted his finger to brush a strand of hair away from your face, “I just had to let you know how I feel.”

Although only a few seconds had passed, your silence seemed to extend for hours, and Bruce was ready to carefully put you down on the ground and throw himself off his window, never to be seen again. But when you placed both your hands on his cheeks, gazing into his eyes with a tenderness he hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing in years, he felt hope blossom within him.

“I am yours,” you replied softly, afraid that words louder than those would burst the small bubble of happiness you were hiding in. “I’ve been yours since the day I stepped foot in here. You have my heart, Bruce Wayne. All of you. The smart you, the cheeky you, even the arrogant you that sometimes belittles subordinates over their incompetence – but quickly makes up for it with heartfelt apologies, because that is what your parents taught you. But most importantly, you. The real one. I’ve been yours since day one.”

Bruce offered you one of his beautiful smiles, the genuine ones that had your stomach flipping over itself and leaned over again. You welcomed his kiss with a sigh of content, and a soft sound that sounded awfully a lot like a moan, which had Bruce grip onto you tighter and kiss you a bit rougher. He was tugging at your pencil skirt, and you were just about to make quick work of his tie, when the door to his office burst open.

Without a second thought, Bruce quickly covered your legs with his arms, and hid your face so whoever had just walked in wouldn’t be able to look at you. It was the least he could do to protect you right now, but it was either that or nothing.

“I see you’re quite busy, Mr. Wayne,” Lucius Fox’s voice boomed through the office, a cheeky tilt to it making it known that the sight before him was amusing rather than scandalous. “I’ll return later, if you want me to? Or perhaps, not at all. What if I fax you?”

Bruce chuckled and nodded towards his employee. He could feel your quickened heart rate speed up under the gaze of someone else, and while he felt sorry you two had gotten caught, he couldn’t hide just how adorable you looked, clinging to him like that.

“That’d be perfect, Lucius.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Miss.” Lucius said your last name before leaving and closing the door behind him. When your boss took one good look at your face, he felt the heat on your cheeks and neck, and laughed before pressing a kiss below your ear.

“How come Lucius came in here without knocking? Where the hell is my assistant?”

You smiled sheepishly and ran your fingers through his hair – something you’d always wanted to do. “I don’t you,” you mumbled. “Bet she’s slacking off.”

“I must disagree,” Bruce quipped back, “She’s the most hardworking woman I’ve ever met. No way she’s slacking off.”

“Then she’s probably making out with her boss.”

“Only because he’s crazy about her.”

“She’s crazy about him too.”

Life was perfect ever since.

You couldn’t be seen together for obvious reasons, but that didn’t keep Bruce from stealing you once or twice. Extended lunch breaks, pre-company meetings meetings, post-company meeting meetings, you name it. You’d be on his lap, lazily kissing his frown upside down, next to him, helping him with contracts and files that had been sent incorrectly (and that he could easily fix by himself, but he loved having you near him, and you loved to help), and once or twice he’d had you on top of his desk with him kneeling before you, or sprawled on his couch with he laid on top of you, helping him with that he claimed to be a performance check.

After a few rumours broke out that you had slept your way to the top, you asked Bruce to quit the company. The women in the company, who faked their sympathy and niceness to you because they were utterly jealous of your position as Bruce Wayne’s assistant scowled once you walked past them, giggling and calling you names. You’d tried to ignore them at first, but after the fifty-second “Whore”, you were a sobbing mess, crying on Bruce’s shoulder and begging him to fire you so you wouldn’t have to deal with that any longer.

How typical of you, Bruce thought. Willing to lose your job so someone else won’t have to, even if that someone else’s behaviour is unacceptable. He knew your reasoning though, knew that if he were to fire said women, it’d backfire on him, and all the rumours would be confirmed.

It was a terrible idea really.

But he was also Bruce fucking Wayne, and such things did not matter to him. So instead of firing you, he made his intentions very clear in front of pretty much the entire company at a special anniversary dinner, by kissing your breath away. You were stunned to say the least, when he loudly introduced you to everyone as his lovely girlfriend and said that should anyone have a problem with either him or you, they should take it upon themselves to talk to Bruce personally.

Later that night, he held you tightly in his arms and kissed your forehead, promising that he would never hide you or your relationship from the world ever again. You, on your hand, promised to not listen to the tabloids and the paparazzi.

That was the first time you confessed your love for him, which he eagerly confessed back, before he was tugging at your clothes and his lips were pressed to your neck.

One night, as you were leaving a restaurant with your friends, you were pulled to a dark alleyway and held at gunpoint. The attacker, a man you did not recognise, told you to call your rich boyfriend and started going on about how much he wanted for you. Bruce did not pick up, which made you panic, and made the attacker get even angrier. But before he could do anything about it, a dark figure emerged from the rooftop above you two and knocked the man to the ground.

You’d never seen Batman up close, but he was as intimidating as everyone made him out to be. He tied the man up, called the Gotham Police Department, and you could make out his gruff voice saying something about a Chief Gordon. He then looked at you, and you felt so small, so vulnerable, so weak. Here you were, an insignificant nobody, being saved by Batman. Batman, of all people, who probably had more important things to do other than rescue nobodies like yourself.

But the gentleness in his voice as he asked, “Are you okay?” snapped you out of your trance. Gone was the intimidating vigilante. Before you, stood someone who seemed to care about you and your wellbeing. You nodded and told him you were a bit shook up. He asked you to tell him exactly what had happened, and so you did, carefully going over all the details. Once you mentioned your boyfriend’s name, Batman seemed to wince. You did not understand why.

He took you home, and although you couldn’t quite tell what, there was something in Batman’s presence that made you feel safe, cared for. It was familiar, comforting to be near him. Like you’d known him all your life.

Bruce, on his hand, was freaking out. You’d been targeted because of him. Him. Him. Him. You were going to get hurt because of him. And he’d pay whatever fortune he had to just to keep you safe, but if you’d gotten hurt, he would never be able to forgive himself.

He spent a few more minutes outside, to make it less suspicious, and tried to act surprised when you told him how Batman had saved you.

You hid the details from him though, simply saying you were going to get mugged. You didn’t want to worry him – he was too preoccupied about your life together as it was, trying not to track down whatever assholes wrote those nasty pieces about you in the morning papers, and trying to focus on you instead of the photographer three tables down whenever you went out for coffee.

The two of you were idiots, really, trying to protect each other at all costs.

It only took a few days after the assault for Bruce to break, though. He told you everything, spilled all his secrets about Batman as if he were a sinner in church confessing all his sins. You were shocked, to say the least, but it all clicked in your head quite quickly. The comforting presence, the gentleness in Batman’s voice, the safety – it was all Bruce. Of course it was.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, “Please forgive me. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been there…”

“But you were,” you took his hands in yours, gripping them tightly. “You saved me, Bruce, and that’s all that matters. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re going to be fine.”

“It’s not safe for you. If anyone finds out about me, they’ll use you, they’ll get to you, and – “

“You managed to keep your identity a secret all this time. I’m sure you’ll be able to keep doing it.” You leaned towards him and kissed him softly. Bruce responded in kind immediately, taking you in his arms and kissing you with the passion of a man madly in love. His hands roamed your body, fingers deftly remembering every curve and arch and every place that made you whimper against his lips and tighten your hold on him. Within minutes, you were laying on your back, fingers tugging at Bruce’s hair as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you, promising – no, swearing to keep you safe forever and ever, declaring his devotion for you.

Some weeks after, he popped a question. Not quite the question, but a very important one nevertheless.

“Quit your job.”

“What?”

“Quit your job at Wayne Enterprises. I can take care of you. I will take care of you. Everyone knows we’re together, and as much as I don’t care about the nasty rumours and petty comments, you’re way safer here.” Bruce took your hand across the couch and rubbed circles on the back of it, thumb brushing against your knuckles. “Alfred and I found out who the attacker was. Remember Chet Rivers?”

“The accountant?”

“To say he was angry would be an understatement. He went after you because he knew it would hurt me. I won’t have this happen again. I love you so much and I appreciate everything you have done and continue to do as my personal assistant, but if this job puts you in harm’s way again, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

You offered him a sympathetic smile. It was so like your boyfriend to put you first in every situation.

“And what would I do?”

“Anything, as long as it wasn’t too dangerous.”

“I think everyone in Gotham knows me by now, Bruce. And according to your paranoia, that’d pose a threat.”

Bruce rubbed his jaw pensively and you scooted over, sitting on his lap and facing him.

“You worry too much,” you mumbled, stroking his cheek.

“Is it so wrong if I want to keep the love of my life safe?”

“Not at all. But I also need to live, you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just – I can’t stand the thought of losing you. You’re far too precious for that, and I’ve lost so many people – “

You interrupted him with a kiss, a tactic you found quite effective most of the times. He hummed and his breathing slowed as he relaxed.

“If it makes you feel better, then fine. I’ll quit.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I’ll find something else to do. Maybe I can even help Alfred around, you know. Be Batman’s personal assistant. You think he’s hiring?”

This earned a chuckle from Bruce, and a very tight hug.

“I’ll put in a good word for you.”

He did! And you got the job.

At first, you thought being Batman’s personal assistant (a title you wore proudly, even though it annoyed Bruce – after all, this had been achieved so you wouldn’t have to be anyone’s assistant, so you wouldn’t have to work) would be boring, but you quickly got the hang of it and, of course, excelled.

You tracked down which materials made his suit lighter, which ones made him faster, which ones weighed him down. You made lists of the combinations you and Bruce had come up with, to provide him with the perfect bland of speed and lightness, without making him too unprotected.

You took over Alfred’s position, giving the old man some respite as you communicated with Bruce through the intercoms, looking out for him, reminding him to take breaks and occasionally teasing him with the usual “Wanna guess what I’m wearing?” talk – Bruce would never admit this, but it made him patrol the streets quicker, eager to get home and find out just what you were wearing – or weren’t.

Most of the time, Bruce would beg you to go to sleep after he went on patrol. Most of the time, you wouldn’t hear any of it. You wanted to help your boyfriend wash the day off him, rub his sore muscles and kiss his forehead gently as he relaxed against your hold.

“What’re you still doing up?” he asked once, looking over at your figure on top of his bed. Instead of sleeping, you had your nose buried in some book you’d always wanted to read but had never found the time to.

“Waiting for you,” you mumbled, looking up and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Shouldn’t have done that. It’s late.” Bruce walked over to you, and you smiled lazily, lifting your arms so he would scoot over next to you. He did so, clad in a pair of shorts, his batsuit (courtesy of his loving girlfriend) long discarded.

“Didn’t want you to come home to an empty house. Wanted you to come home to a smile.”

“Coming home to you is enough,” he chided, playfully touching your nose.

“Bath?”

“Please.”

You prepared a quick bubble bath and got in after him, sitting with your chest pressed against his back as you washed his hair, massaged his scalp, and rubbed his sore shoulders and back. Bruce groaned a few times, finding your touch something close to a miracle.

“On your right – fuck, right there.”

You giggled at how his words sounded out of context, and got your thigh pinched in return.

“Hey!”

“I can tell you’re being dirty. Stop it.”

“Not at all,” you replied, “’m super clean right now.”

After you were both cleaned, Bruce took it upon himself to rinse you and wrap you in your fluffiest of towels. You were nearly asleep to be honest, eyes darting close every few seconds. Thankfully, your boyfriend would not let go, helping you stand up straight and keeping you from falling to the side.

You were extremely exhausted, and Bruce blamed himself for that, but he couldn’t lie – seeing you wait up for him, to make sure he was safe and sound warmed his heart. He hadn’t felt loved like this in a long time, and every day he woke up and thanked whatever deity was looking over him that he got to wake up next to the woman he loved.

It was domestic, in a way.

And it wasn’t like anything had truly changed – after all, you were still taking care of Bruce Wayne, and he was still taking care of you. It was only your circumstances that had changed. Instead of an office, you worked from home, your new home, Wayne Manor. Instead of bringing him coffee, you’d help Alfred around with cooking and busied yourself with your hobbies during the day, so you could help your husband with his duties at night.

And on his hand, Bruce protected you by protecting Gotham.

Don’t get me or him wrong – he didn’t spend all his free time Batmanning. He spoiled you rotten, taking you out for coffee dates and strolls in the park. Often, you’d find little gifts on your bed, just like he used to do when you worked for him. Only this time, they were a bit more personal. Your favourite books and candles, bracelets with his initials, dresses that left a lot to the imagination, pieces of lingerie for his eyes only to see.

But most importantly, you loved each other. More than words could express. You were the light in Bruce’s light. The reason he got out of bed and downed expensive wool and linen suits during the day, and dark Kevlar ones at night. The reason he smiled more often, the reason he had began to believe in love again. Without you, the billionaire was sure he’d be lost in life. Surely, he must’ve done something great in a past one if he now had you in his arms, in his bed, in his life, in his heart.

These were the thoughts running through Bruce’s head as he held your hand. You were both sitting at a restaurant you’d wanted to try for years (“Bruce, please, I beg of you, just get us a reservation at Dorsia,” you’d whined one afternoon, trying to argue your case with a series of convincing kisses to his neck – and how could he deny you, with arguments like those?), having the time of your life as you told him about your day.

Bruce loved the sound of your voice. He’d let you speak for hours on end, about whatever topic you wanted, if it only meant he could listen to you.

In fact, he didn’t need to do any of the talking.

That night, he only had one question to ask of you, the weight of the small box inside his pocket filling him with both excitement and dread.

He only hoped you would say yes.

He needn’t worry.

If the smile on your face after he kneeled was any indication, your thoughts mirrored his.

You could not wait to spend forever together.

A/N: And that's it!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed this!!!! I'll also take this opportunity to warn y'all that this will be my last Bruce piece in a while! I have other requests pertaining other characters, and honestly, I feel like I'm getting a bit exhausted with all the writing I've been doing for him.

I don't want fanfiction writing to become a chore, so I'll be focusing on other characters for now in order not to lose this spark!!! I hope you guys enjoy those pieces as well <3

Stay safe and have a wonderful day ahead!!!!!!! <3<3<3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight fanfic #the dark knight fanfiction #nolanverse #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x fem!reader

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seraphimnoir · 10 hours

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don't call me | S. REID

summary: spencer finds himself on the verge of relapsing, surrounded by symbols of neglect and chaos around him — in a moment of desperation he calls his only hope.

warnings: mentions of spencer's addiction, betrayal, non-bau!reader, spencer is on break(?), fem!reader, reader only referred to as 'her' & 'she'

genre: angst

authors note: first fic wooeeee yeah! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. the ending kinda sucks but WHATEVER!!!!!!!! by da way not proofread (may have grammatical errors LOL)

There were piles of brown snow on the pavement, scattered by the cars, but on Saturday at noon it rained, the drops immediately froze, and the whole city became a frozen palace. Spencer went out to buy newspapers at the little booth next to the dimly lit café, he narrowed his eyes as he realized that he didn't want to go home — to the crumbs on the table, to the unmade bed, the coffee-drenched Physics textbooks, the scattered mail and the unfinished note for his mother. He jumped over an ice block on the sidewalk with newspaper in hand and made his way into the café. At this hour it was empty, only the bearded man behind the counter and the what looked like a ten year old Siamese cat were present.

He made his way to the counter and cleared his throat, gathering the pennies from his bag to pay. "Black coffee, please." he said as he looked at the man. The barista silently nodded as he put in place the coffee cup he was cleaning, his eyes fluttering towards the coffee machine. Spencer placed the coins at the counter as he waited for the coffee.

He looked at his watch. Seemingly lost in thought for a second — but his mind quickly rebooted as the carton cup of steaming black coffee was placed Infront of him. He gave a weak smile and took in the cup carefully. He didn't wait for the change, nor the receipt. He lunged out of the cafe. He looked at the cup of coffee, a look of disgust overcame him as he realized what he had ordered. He never drank black coffee, it was always too bitter for him. But today he hoped that the dark chocolate charcoal would drown out the urge to get his fix.

He passed by an old black phonebooth with plastered obituaries, campaign posters and scribbled graffiti. He coughed almost silently and looked at the numbers on it, some of them almost invisible. He picked up the receiver and dialed the six digits. She picked up on the third ring. "Good day," he said. "is this the library?" he continued, his voice calm and collected.

"Who's this? Spencer, is that you?" she said, as she propped up her receiver with her shoulder, her hands busy with the stack of papers.

Spencer was silent. He shifted the receiver to his left hand, took a sip of the bitter coffee and sighed. "Where are you calling from?" She asked, not a tinge of emotion in her voice.

"From the city" Spencer answered and squeezed his cup a little tighter. He looked down at his feet, his hairs drifting to his forehead. She were silent, only the clicking of the pen and the papers could be heard. "Are you here?" he stuttered out. A sigh escaped her lips "Yes, I'm here."

"Please, let's see eachother." his voice guilty and full of desperation. the grip on the cup and the hot liquid inside made his hand burn slightly. "Now?" she questioned, her voice monotone.

"Now." he continued. And he realized why he shouldn't have called. If she told him "no", he would not bear it. He had lasted so long with no word from her, but now he was going to break down. He moved the receiver slightly away. Her voice came to his ears very far away. "What did you say?" he asked nervously. the wind hit his neck, making the strands of hair on it stand up.

"Spencer, we cannot. Don't call me again, okay?" she said, her voice hitting the last word. Spencer stood at the photobooth — dumbfounded, as if time had stopped. The awkward silence was followed up by "Hello? Are you there?"

"Okay," Spencers voice cracked. He hung up the phone. The street was brown and dirty. The facades of the buildings were wet. The buzzing of the city continued. Taxis were waiting down at the intersection. He imagined that a huge bouquet was in his hand and not a — now almost cold coffee, he imagined that it was a summers day, and he was going to her house — like he used to do after he came back from a case. He roamed the streets as he finished his coffee, throwing away the carton cup in an almost overflowing trashcan, his mind re-enacting different memories. But the pulsing in his veins and the voice on the back of his head couldn't stop thinking of the needle — the one thing that could save him from his misery.

His hand came in contact with the door handle, his keys wiggling vigorously in the keylock. He entered his apartment and took off the purple wool scarf that he threw on the couch, the bag was left on the table. He sighed and stood upright by the window and looked out. It was dusk, it had started to snow again.

His heart sank further. The empty ache that lingered deep within him roared harder. The craving that refused to be ignored — it called out his name. He sank to the floor, clutching his cardigan as tears began falling down.

The snow outside continued to shed, the streets soon were hugged by a new icy embrace of the snow. The buzzing on the streets continued. The world didn't end today.

#spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #bau #criminal minds angst

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ivonhart · 3 days

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a lil teaser for my nanami x fem gojo!reader part 1 to see if ya’ll are liking it so far

if ya’ll want me to continue writing this just know this mf is gonna be LONG - probably my longest post yet

please note that this is not proof read yet so ignore any possible mistakes🧍

if you have any ideas or suggestions please don’t hesitate to comment because this is my first time writing for jjk and it’s characters (if I remember correctly when Satoru was young that mf was a butthole to “weak” people so he’s gonna be a lil bit of a dick sometimes in the flashbacks btw)

enjoy 🔥🔥

The day Satoru Gojo was born became a day that would be celebrated for centuries to come in the Jujutsu world. The child born with both the Limitless and Six Eyes was revered almost as if he was a god within the Gojo clan due to the fact it has not happened in over four hundred years. So, when the mother of Satoru claimed to be with child a year later, the expectations were set to the heavens.

Throughout the months, as the mother’s belly grew in size, whispers of what the child would possess filled the halls of the estate. Perhaps, they too, would be blessed with the Limitless and Six Eyes. Two children with the abilities would be a revelation to the world for it had never happened before. But, the moment you opened your eyes it was clear you were…nothing.

You held no ounce of cursed energy and the joy of Satoru’s birth was quickly tainted by yours. And your childhood would hold no good memories to reflect on. Nor any good relationships with those in your clan. Now, you found yourself staring at the entrance to Jujutsu High. Although you lacked cursed energy, your father would never allow you to live a normal life.

“Despite the fact you hold no cursed energy, I will not allow you to be anything other than a sourcer. I don’t care if they make you fight them blind, you will not be anything else.” You weren’t sure why he made you take this path. Maybe he could take credit if you do manage to survive into adulthood. The first sourcer with no cursed energy coming from the Gojo clan would solidify just how strong they were. Or maybe he just sent you here to die. With a sharp inhale you pulled your shoulders back, latched your hands together against your tailbone and walked into the campus.

You were introduced to the two other first-year students after being led to the main building for the start of the tour. The first boy was named Yu Haibara. You took note of his overwhelmingly positive demeanor as he introduced himself. His wide eyes sparkled with a thousand stars and a smile that was almost as bright as the sun. He was so positive, in fact, that it made you uneasy. Never in all your life had you been on the receiving end of such sheer excitement and interest in you and what you did. “Enough, Haibara. You are making her uncomfortable.”

Those were the first words you heard come from the second boy’s mouth since being here. He was somewhat lanky in comparison with blond hair that dropped down his face. After his comment, Haibara was quick to apologize which earned him a simple hum from you. “And you are?”

You asked towards the blond. “Kento Nanami.” You nodded slightly before saying your first name. Haibara’s eyebrow raised. “That doesn’t sound like your surname.” Nanami watched as you stared at him with an almost emotionless expression. Since he first laid his eyes on you he took note at how rigid you presented yourself.

Like if one hair was out of place on your head something bad would happen. And your outfit…despite the heat that hung in the air you were showing no skin aside from your head and hair. Your shirt reaching to the bottom of your chin and your hands covered with gloves with solid tights covering your legs. Everything about you intrigued him.

He didn’t tear his eyes away from you when the second-year students entered the room, resulting in him catching the way your shoulders tensed up. “WELCOME LIL’ SIS!” Haibara’s eyes almost popped out of his head at the sight of Satoru Gojo. Little sister? Was all that ran through Nanami’s mind as he kept an unwavering eye on you. “Wait!” Haibara’s snap towards you. “YOU’RE A GOJO?!” You clenched your jaw…hard at the sight of the white-haired boy.

It was inevitable that you would cross paths with him, but you didn’t think so soon. Satoru sauntered over to you with a black-haired boy and brown-haired girl not far behind before throwing his freakishly long arm across your shoulders. “Suguru. Shoko. This is my little sister.” Ever since Satoru entered his teenage years he decided he only wanted to address you like that. You believed it was just something he would do to get underneath Father’s skin, because you knew Father never allowed him to call you his sister.

You didn’t bother to look at Satoru’s friends as you stepped out from his hold with a sneer. “Don’t call me that.” You bit back in a harsh whisper. Though, you knew the others heard because suddenly the room was filled with a suffocating tension. With a sharp huff and dismissive wave towards Haibara who got close you retreated towards Nanami. As you came closer, the boy noted how your demeanor completely shifted. Your once straight shoulders were slumped in on themselves and your head hung low. As if you were trying to disappear into yourself.

The tour went by in a blur and it wasn’t long until you found yourself silently walking alongside Shoko Ieiri towards the girl dorms. She wasn’t like Satoru, she was quiet, but not in the way Suguru Geto was. Not a shy quiet…just a nonchalant quiet. “Soooo…” Shoko’s drawn out ‘o’ echoed throughout the hallway. “Sato–” “Don’t.” Your tone was sharp as you snapped at the upperclassmen. A small smile tugged at her mouth before she responded.

“I don’t think that’s a very appropriate way to speak to your upperclassmen.” She almost regretted the joke she made as she looked back at you. Your eyes were hard as stone, filled with pure hatred at the sheer idea of Satoru Gojo. A sneer pulled at your lips as you clenched your fist together. Truth be told, Shoko was always curious about the younger Gojo.

Satoru would mention you from time to time, but only to drag you down in order to boast about his own powers. “I still can’t believe my father is sending my little sister here. She’s such a weakling! She doesn’t even have cursed energy.” Shoko remembered how he laughed with such glee at your expense. She could only imagine how it was like for you when he still lived at the estate. It was no wonder why you held such hostility towards him. Shoko didn’t need to see much to pick that observation up.

“Just show me to my room and leave me the hell alone.” With a small hum, the girl turned on her heel and resumed walking down the hall. You almost pushed Shoko over to get into your room and without as much as a ‘thank you’ you slammed the door shut. You could feel your chest grow tight with the need to cry. Seeing Satoru after so long brought back memories you wished you could forget.

“‘Toruuu, where are we going?” You asked through laughs of glee at the idea of spending time with your older brother. You never saw him much in between your training and you rarely had chances to talk with him. So, when he came into your room and began dragging you, claiming he had a “surprise” you couldn’t fight the joy that filled you. “You’ll see.” You didn’t know at the time that his smile wasn’t one of happiness and his laughs weren’t fueled by joy. He pulled you all the way to an abandoned house within the forest some ways away from your home. “I found this old house.” His sparkling blue eyes shot around the living room as you entered with a cheek-splitting smile. “I thought we could…make it into a little hang out area.” You felt your heart swell at the idea of spending more time with your brother and with quick nods you agreed. “That sounds so fun, big brother!” He turned to you with a large grin. “So, to get started I need you to get something from the cellar out back. The previous owner left some cool stuff that I’d like to use to decorate this place.” Without any fuss you turned tail and raced out towards the cellar. You had no reason to trust your big brother and you wished nothing more than to make him happy. Quickly, you opened the cellar doors but you couldn’t help but hesitate at the unease it sent through your body. The air that came from inside was hot and stuffy, and there was no light at all…but you wanted to make Toru happy. You wanted to make this place your hideaway. So, with a deep breath you descended the stairs in search of a light. BANG! A yelp escaped your mouth at the sound and sudden darkness. Someone closed the cellar doors. “Toru?” You slowly turned around and with your hands in front of you you began walking. “Toru? The door closed!” “Yeah, and it’s staying closed.” His tone took a complete 180. Before you spoke with enthusiasm, but now his words dripped in hatred. “W-What do you mean? Toru, I’m getting scared.” At this point you felt your heart rate speed up and your body heat to spike. You could already feel sweat run down the back of your neck. “You’re nothing but a weakling and I hate weaklings!” Your shin hit the first step up towards the door as you began to cry. Unfortunately for you, your heightened emotions manifested itself into something you had yet to learn existed. And the very first time you ever felt one touch you was when it sank its large claws into your stomach, causing you to let out a blood curdling scream within the darkness of the cellar.

hope this peaks someone interest

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagine

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alkaline-wtr · 11 hours

Text

WE WILL SURVIVE

- - CHAPTER 3 - -

Graves x reader Description: Reader makes an unexpected new friend and makes it through the city. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Graves x reader, Ghost x fem!reader, survivor!reader,angst, gore, violence, explicit language, weapons, mentions of death WC: 4.5k

My Masterlist

** I FINALLY DID IT!! I pulled an all nighter to finish this! I'd like to first apologize for this chapter taking SO long... I honestly couldn't get my ideas straight but 4 rewrites later and I'm actually pretty proud of it. I was worried about this chapter being too long but I decided I'd rather it be long and decent than rushed and awful. This one is more of a filler chapter to give some more context and backstory but I wanted it to still be entertaining. Also, this IS still a Ghost x reader! Don't worry! He's just going through some stuff ya know? Lastly, to the Graves haters!! as a former Graves hater myself, I encourage you all to give the man a chance because, writing this chapter single handedly changed my mind about him. Anyways, strap in it's a long one. Hopefully the wait was worth it. I can finally sleep! Enjoy. PS: if you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist please let me know.

<< PART TWO

You kept your eyes down, hugging the flashlight to your chest. The fear in your body caused you to tremble. The last time you had been face to face with someone on a road, you almost died, and this time, Ghost wasn't here to bail you out.

"Well, what do we have here?"

The stranger spoke in an enthusiastic tone. You looked at the toe of his boot nervously.

"Come on, sweetheart. Get off the ground."

The sound of your racing heartbeat filled your ears as you allowed your eyes to wander upward. The barrel of a rifle was inches from your nose, aimed at the asphalt below. It was relieving to know that the man wasn't actively threatening you. You took that to be a good sign.

The beam of light in your face was too bright to see the person's features.

Getting impatient with your silence, the man lowers the flashlight.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

His tone of voice suggested that he was annoyed with your reaction.

You slowly pull yourself to your feet. He seemed to be of an average height, taller than you. The man was blonde and had a fair complexion.

"What's your name?"

He raised an eyebrow. His tone remained almost lighthearted as if none of this had phased him.

"Y/n."

Your response is cautious. You kept your voice low. Your eyes searched him for any movement. The feeling in your gut was uncertain. He seemed authoritative yet approachable... possibly unpredictable.

"Well y/n, you're welcome. It seems I saved your ass back there."

The man's demeanor was cocky, and he was a bit full of himself. He swings the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and puts out a hand for you to shake.

Something about his personality seemed intense. You hesitated to offer your hand but when you did, he gripped it firmly, pulling your wrist down briefly in a simple shake.

"Names Phillip Graves. You alone?"

You nodded eyeing the gun on his back. Phillip flashed a charming smile.

"Where are you headed to?"

He seemed to be full of questions, you couldn't quite decipher whether that was good or bad.

Unfortunately, he was the only other person around and didn't seem to immediately want to kill you. Something within you told you to give him a chance, it's not like you had options.

"I was just trying to make my way through the city." You admitted.

Phillip nods posing his hands on his hips.

"That's bold, for someone alone, especially of your... stature."

You couldn't help but glance down at yourself a little offended.

"I just mean, you don't seem to be the survivalist type." He adds.

You brush off the comment and change the subject.

"Are you alone too?"

You question. His bright smile returns, making his blue eyes crinkle at the edges.

"Been solo for quite a bit now. Although, Maybe that has changed."

It came out more as a statement than a question. He was arrogant and as much as his cocky attitude irritated you, you weren't going to turn down the company. Unfortunately, he was right you weren't the survivalist type.

You sat atop a large pickup truck. Your legs crossed beneath you. Phillip had called it 'keeping watch' but you thought he just wanted you out of the way.

You rested your hands on your ankles. Phillip is kneeling on the driver's side of the car trying to get the truck to start.

Breathing out a bored sigh you lean over the edge of the roof to check on his progress.

"Any luck?"

The blonde man leans back resting an arm on his bent knee.

"Afraid not."

He groans stretching as he stands back up Brushing his hands together to knock off any dirt.

"Looks like we'll have to walk."

Glancing up at you, his hands coming up to rest comfortably on his hips.

"Where to?"

A hint of confusion and curiosity in your voice.

Phillip waved his hand in a gesture that said to come down.

You stretched your legs out sliding your backside down until your shoes hit the bed of the truck. His hand pressed gently against your back steadying you as you climbed out.

"Well, I wouldn't mind heading into the city. It's more dangerous, but I know a place we can find some real firepower."

The idea gave you a bad feeling. Even though that had been the original plan, going through the city was the last thing you wanted to do. Now with Phillip around to watch your back, you felt no need to chase after Ghost anymore.

You continue to think for a moment. A trip through the city wasn't the worst idea, considering your lack of supplies. Slowly, you nod in a hesitant agreement.

"Okay, I guess that could work." Unsure of your response.

"Great! We can head out in the morning. It would be too dark right now."

Phillip shuts the door and walks to the back letting down the tailgate. He sits down, letting his legs hang off the side and pulls the rifle around to his lap. You watch him for a moment. He seemed content.

"How long have you been on your own?"

You question. Phillip turns to look at you. Surprisingly, the smile doesn't leave his face, but you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

"Ah, I don't know exactly..."

He sighs and turns to face forward again as if thinking how to continue. You join him on the tailgate, pulling your legs up and tucking them underneath you.

"I had a group, some people I've known for a long time but... they left me behind. Although, they had good reason."

His shoulders fall in a dismissive shrug.

Curiously, you wanted to push the subject further but before you could ask more, he changed the subject.

"Well, you better get some sleep... I'll be lookout."

His eyes meet yours in a way that told you it hadn't been a suggestion. Scooting yourself deeper into the truck bed, you shrug your backpack off your shoulders and use it as a pillow. It took a moment to adjust to a comfortable position. You lay back with a sigh.

In your line of sight was the mess of short blonde hair on the back of Phillips's head.

"Goodnight." You spoke.

The words were soft and laced with nervousness. Worried about trusting a stranger while you slept but even more worried, he'd be gone when you woke up.

Phillip doesn't respond but you can see his slight nod of acknowledgment before closing your eyes.

The orange sun lit up the cool morning. It had only been a few miles of walking to reach the exit ramp that brought you directly into the city. The large buildings towering above you were nearly in ruins, windows broken, areas were burnt, and the streets were littered with shrapnel. You make your descent on the ramp. There is a row of tire spikes you have to step over and cones blocking the lanes.

You'd remembered the news reports back in the small towns warning not to enter the cities. For days the gruesome news reports showed the traffic on the highways, and the bodies of those infected lining the streets but, this had been the first time since the outbreak began three months ago, that you had seen it all firsthand.

The smell of morning dew wafted through the air as Phillip led you under an overpass. You looked on in awe at the grim scene ahead.

"Come on. We're almost there."

Phillip stated, eyes scanning to make sure it was clear for you to cross the street.

The two of you continued deeper into the city. Finally, reaching a chain-link fence.

"What is this place?" You asked.

He had gone closer to the fence and checked its stability.

"It's a military camp."

He answers, turning to you.

"They had troops set up in the cities to try and minimize the spread."

He gestures for you to come over.

"We're going to climb the fence. You first."

As you approach, he pulls your bag down your shoulders. Phillip tosses it over the fence and helps boost you up.

Perched at the top of the fence. You take a moment to look out over the camp, some of the infected were wandering around at the far end. Fear filled you like a hunger in your stomach as you continued down quietly.

Phillip tossed his own bag to the other side of the fence and leaned the rifle over the top for you to grab. You take it in your hands, watching over your shoulder cautiously as you wait for him to climb.

The thud of boots hit the pavement beside you and Phillip pulls the riffle from your palms.

"Let's go."

He leads you quietly to a large green tent. Following closely, your gaze lingered on Phillips's back. Taking in the sight of his cautious stance as he crept forward. Much like Ghost, he had great awareness.

You shuffle quietly under the tarp it is more humid underneath than you'd expected. Both of you split up within the tent in search of supplies.

The tent was lined with cots. Small metal chests rest at the ends. Some were stripped completely of their blankets, and some even missing mattresses. One cot had a duffle bag on it. It was empty besides a couple pairs of socks and a tee shirt.

You dump the clothes out and take the bag moving to the next bed. Stepping cautiously with your heels to stay silent.

Phillip finishes searching his half and comes over to see what you had.

"Just this and a pocketknife."

You respond holding up the duffle bag. He nods,

"Found this,"

He holds up a couple of half-empty bottles of water.

You frown.

"There isn't much here, maybe someone beat us to it?"

Phillip shakes his head. The wrinkles in his face stood out with the furrow of his brow.

"That isn't likely... Let's check the other tents they'll have better stuff."

You follow him down to the entrance of the tent. As you pass a cot at the end of the row you feel a tug at your ankle.

The shock sent you to the ground with a gasp. Snarling sounds grow louder as a corpse crawls out from under the cot. You turn yourself around trying to back to your feet but the corpse's grip is stronger than anticipated.

He pulls you a bit closer sending you flat on your stomach. You grunt as you use all your force to try and kick him away, but the angle of your body puts you at a disadvantage.

Phillip reappears at the entrance concerned when you aren't behind him.

"Shit, Y/n!"

He runs over pulling the rifle off his shoulder and using the blunt end to smash the corpse's head. The cracking sound of the skull makes you cringe. His grip loosens and you're able to scramble backward. Phillip hits him a couple more times making sure it's completely limp before helping you up.

"You okay?"

You rise back to your feet with a huff.

"Yeah, let's just finish searching and get the hell out of here."

Phillip pats your back before leading the both of you back out of the tent. You take in the site of the ravished camp. Tents littered with bullet holes, blood coating the entrances, and a circle of chairs around an ashy fire pit where a couple of bodies lay. The whole sight was gruesome, and the horrific scene was only intensified by the silence.

Phillip marches forward stabbing a blade into the back of a corpse's head. Another comes from the tent to his side, and he turns taking it out too.

You still couldn't fathom how people were just okay Killing so instinctively.

Phillip turns to you gesturing you to keep following.

The tent containing food was by far the worst. It smelled awful. Between rotten produce, decaying bodies, and moldy bread. It was the equivalent of a dumpster in the hot sun. You covered your nose to keep yourself from retching. Phillip however, didn't seem to be affected by the smell. You tiptoe passed an overturned table. Buzzing flies cut through the silence as they swarm a mess of bodies.

The two of you searched the entire tent from top to bottom, coming out of it with a few varying cans, a couple more bottles of water, and a handful of MRE packages.

The rest of the camp was pretty much the same. Infected wandering about, a few water bottles, lots of blood, and not much else. It wasn't until you reached an arsenal that Phillips's eyes lit up.

"Jackpot!"

He drops his bag on the ground stepping further inside to inspect the weaponry.

"I wasn't sure how much would be left here."

The tent had been looted to some capacity but, there was still plenty here to arm ourselves with. As he held a rifle looking down the scope and checking the magazine you turned to look inside a crate. You lifted the wooden top to peek inside startled when Phillips's alarming voice called out.

"CARFUL Y/N! Those are explosives. Don't touch anything!"

Suddenly you weren't feeling very secure, the thought of being surrounded by crates of explosives that could all go off and kill you at any moment... was unsettling, to say the least.

You heed Phillips's warning and stay still in the middle of the tent.

A pair of camo pants fall in front of you. Phillip had tossed them at your feet.

"Put those on." He commanded.

You raise an eyebrow glancing from the cargo pants up to him,

"What? Here?"

"I won't look. Just put them on."

He insisted, turning his back to you completely while he continued to check out the crates. You undo the button of your jeans and pull them off before slipping into the camo pants. They were a bit too large for you.

Phillip turns again without a word. Looking down at a pair of combat boots.

"These too."

He hands you the boots. You were hesitant to replace your sneakers. However, you knew the worn soles wouldn't last much longer with all the walking you'd been doing.

"Take this," Phillip says.

As you finish lacing up the boots, he turns to you, handing you a large rifle similar to the one strapped to his back. You shake your head holding it out an arm's length away from your body. Phillip had already turned away to grab another gun.

"Uh... No, I don't think I should have something like this."

Phillip ignores the remark as he picks out a couple more things from the arsenal. He walks back to you chuckling at your awkward resistance to holding the weapon.

He takes it back and props it against a stack of crates.

"Relax. You shouldn't be afraid of a gun in your own hand. Besides, if you're going to survive in this world you're going to need them."

You try to counter but, Phillip raises his hand signaling you to stay quiet, and kneels in front of you.

"Lift your arms."

You put your arms out to your side watching as Phillip wraps a black belt around your hips. The belt had sandy-colored straps attached to it. With a thick plastic holster slot for a handgun.

"Widen your stance a bit."

You step out, jumping a bit when you feel Phillips's hands on your inner thigh. He buckles the holster around your leg before moving his hands down to cuff the ends of the pants above your boots. His touch is light.

His rough hands begin working away at your boots, tying them tightly and wrapping the laces around the top before tucking the remaining strands against your ankles.

You clear your throat nervously as Phillip stands back up.

"Lookin' good!"

He smiles proudly. His hands rested again on his hips.

"How does it feel?"

You turn your leg a bit as you look down at the military get-up.

"Weird," you reply.

Phillip chuckles and walks back over to the crates.

"You'll get used to it. These will be much more efficient than jeans."

He walks back over holding a large knife covered by a leather sleeve. He reaches down to attach it to your belt opposite the gun holster.

"Now let's look over what we've got."

He grabs your backpack and turns it over kneeling to rummage through your belongings.

He looks over the pistol Ghost had given you.

"Didn't take you for a gun owner," he says setting it to the side.

"Oh... I uh- I'm not. I found it."

Your thoughts wandered back to your fight with Ghost. You still felt guilty about driving him away but, look at how Phillip had been helping. You thought. Maybe it was for the best that Ghost left.

You watch as Phillip splits the food and water rations, moving everything to a tan tactical backpack he'd found. The unnecessary items, like the dim flashlights, and the hammer you'd collected were left in a pile on the ground.

He packed the duffle bag you'd taken from the tent for himself, filling it with ammo, extra weapons, and other equipment.

With his hand outstretched he hands you your new bag. You pull it on over your shoulders, fiddling with the little buckle on the front clicking it over your chest. Admittedly, you felt pretty cool being geared up with all this military equipment.

Phillip straps on his own holster, looking over a pistol before slotting it on his thigh. He steps in front of you holding the pistol from your bag. He had a box of ammo tucked under his arm as he clicked the magazine into place flipping the safety on.

He reaches down to slide it into your holster and steps back placing the box of ammo in your hands.

"If you're going to keep guns on you, Then, you're going to need to learn to shoot."

Your eyes widen in surprise as Phillip throws the duffle bag over his shoulder and grabs two identical riffles.

"What? I- I don't know if-"

Phillip holds his hand up to silence you again.

"Don't worry. I'm going to teach you. Here."

He hands you the rifle once again and heads out of the tent. You hesitate to follow, eyeing the little black flashlight Phillip had left out of your bag.

Something inside you couldn't bear to leave behind Ghost's flashlight. Even though it wasn't necessary now with all the new stuff Phillip had gathered, you decided to take it anyway. Opening one of the velcro pockets of the cargo pants, you place the flashlight securely inside.

The afternoon sun was high in the sky as you leaned over the ledge of an apartment building. The rooftop looked out over the city streets littered with infected. You watched them wander below as Phillip prepared your rifle.

"You ready?" He asks.

You step away from the edge taking the rifle from his hand.

"Do I really need to do this?"

You'd been nervous about this idea. You'd never been a big fan of guns and since the outbreak, you'd gotten by just on your ability to run and hide. You hadn't had to kill anyone or anything so far and weren't ready for that to change.

Phillip stands behind you, positioning your arms to hold the rifle properly against your shoulder.

"Now, always remember... The gun has some kickback. So, keep steady. Watch where you hold it on your shoulder you don't want to hurt yourself. Only aim the barrel with the intent to kill and finger off the trigger unless you plan to shoot. Got it?"

You nod and Phillip steps to the side crossing his arms over his chest.

"Alright, keep your finger off the trigger for now and get a feel for aiming. Look down your sight and line up your crosshair with their heads."

Phillips's instructions were clear but, you were left with so many questions about his life before the outbreak.

"Focus. You want to always aim for the head. Every second counts... Making that a habit will save you one day."

You take a deep breath tightening your grip on the rifle and tilting your head to look down the sight as Phillip had instructed. The movement is slow as you scan the street, trying to line up the cross hair with the head of one of the corpses.

After a few moments of practicing your aim, Phillip gives his next instruction.

"Okay, next I want you to line up your crosshair just like that, but this time pull the trigger."

Your heart pounded in your ears, you were not fond of the idea, to begin with, and now you'd have to do it. Finally, you would have to take a life... Even though you knew the infected were dangerous and no longer human, it didn't sit right with you. They used to be normal people just like you. What would be left if not your humanity?

Phillip waited patiently as you built up your courage, taking in deep breaths to calm your nerves. You scan the crowd again. Your crosshair stopped on the forehead of a woman. You watched her shuffling forward. Her colorless eyes looked straight ahead.

It took all your strength to pull back the trigger. The attached suppressor stifled the loud bang you'd otherwise expected to hear.

You were jolted backward. You'd missed your shot at the woman and gunpowder filled the space beneath your nose. Letting out a loud gasp you let your arms fall from their position, gripping the rifle tightly at your waist.

"It's okay," Phillip reassures.

"Try again, keep your stance tight. You'll need to put a bit of strength in it."

You nod, taking a few more deep breaths to calm your racing pulse.

Raising the rifle again you steady your feet aiming down the rifle once more. Slowly scanning, looking for the same woman as before. Once your crosshair lands on her, you take another deep breath and brace yourself for the impact.

Your finger squeezes the trigger. The bullet whizzes through the air landing on your target.

The woman's lifeless body drops to the cement. Adrenaline fills your veins and guilt settles in your stomach. It was a conflict of emotions, excited that you'd succeeded but sad that you'd shot a person.

Phillips' encouraging words broke you from your thoughts.

"Yes! Great job Y/N! Do exactly that. Go again."

The night settled over the city. An orange light illuminated the space around you as you watched the roaring flames of the crackling fire. Phillip had decided it was best to spend the night up here after a long session of gun training.

"You did a good job,"

Phillip says, sitting down across from you.

"You'll need a bit of practice, but I think you've got the hang of the basics."

Although encouraging, you couldn't push away the dreadful ache of guilt in your chest.

"That was the first time I'd ever had to kill one."

You speak up with a sad smile.

"Well..."

Phillip pauses, he gives you a look of understanding.

"I know it's hard... but sometimes we have to make those tough choices if we want to survive."

You thought back to Ghost again. Was his choice to leave you hard for him? Did he think he wouldn't survive if he stuck around?

"Phillip?"

You ask, almost hesitant to finish your question,

"How did you know about all of this?"

Phillip assumed you were referring to the guns and military camp.

"I was in the military... Before all this."

The answer hadn't exactly surprised you.

"The group you were with... Were they from the camp?"

He avoided eye contact with you deciding whether or not to answer you.

"No."

The answer was short and simple like he was holding back.

"But... back at the camp, you'd said that you weren't sure how much of the equipment would still be there. Does that mean you'd been there before?"

He sighed, it was obvious your curiosity had struck a nerve with him.

"Let's just say... I was in the city when it fell. It's not something I'd like to relive so, leave it at that... yeah?"

You had a lot more questions for him but, it didn't feel like a good time to push. So, instead, you changed the subject.

"Thank you."

Confused, Phillip raised his head looking at you over the fire.

"Without all your help... I probably wouldn't have made it today."

Phillip flashes one of his charming smiles. You were glad to see that he cheered up so quickly. He looked prideful even. Evidently, your thanks hadn't gone unappreciated.

"We all need help from time to time. It's like they say... Strength in numbers."

He explains. You smile back before letting your gaze fall. That rule may apply to all but Ghost. You thought.

Tag list

@yourfavbabigirl @keiraslayz @dcnocap207 @dustycrusty09 @ihavetwoholesforareason

#cod au #zombie apocalypse au #cw: gore #graves x reader #ghost x female reader #mw2 fanfic #graves x female reader #phillip graves #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw3 #alkaline writes #☑️mstlst

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sonderrealization · 1 day

Note

Hmmmmmmore vampire boyfriend please-

sorry this took so long to get to !! I'm very sporadic in my writings here :')

but anyway, here's a little NSFW scenario with him that goes deeper into the first time he tastes your blood. GN reader, no anatomy specified.

CW: oral (receiving), blood and blood drinking, period mention, arousal drunk vampire idk.

vampire boyfriend who, when he finally, finally gets to taste you, can't hold back.

he wouldn't dare do anything without your consent, but the moment you make it clear he can do as he likes, he's on you. lapping from the wounds he'd made on your neck, his hands reaching under clothing to touch your bare skin.

"you're....far too alluring for your own good, my dear." he breathes out, his fangs seemingly longer as he feels your reaction to his touches. "i-is that right?" you'd reply meekly, letting out small whimpers as you writhe under his ministrations... his hands soon moved to strip you bare of any clothing, how much your heart was pumping from his doing was driving him mad. nothing could get between him and his darling now, right?

"pesky cloth...always getting in the way." he'd hiss, making his way between your thighs, leaving trails of bite marks as he grew closer to your arousal. "you can't get any more divine, it's.... unbelievable, truly." even if you protested, if it became too much for your body to handle, he's far too deep to stop now.

"let me just...have my fill of you." he chuckled darkly, using his mouth where it belonged, teasing and pleasuring you like no mortal man could. his tongue was quick and touching just the right places, your arteries on either side of his head only egged him on... as did the song of bliss you sang. nobody else was allowed to hear, yes? nobody. "o-oh please, i- h-haah, just.. a little more, I'm so close-" you'd cry, and tug at his hair, and god did he love it when you did that.

your hands tangled in his hair, so desperate for release had him harder than he'd ever been, and once you finally, finally felt the snap of release, he took all he could get. swallowing it all, lapping up anything he was able to take. he'd look up for approval, a silent question of if he was good enough. well... of course he was. how many men can make someone to cum with their mouth alone? but he wouldn't stop there. no, no, of course not. he'd have you writhing, begging, convulsing and screaming his name over and over, until he felt satisfied. "sorry, darling. I just can't get enough, you can give me one more...and I'll let you go." he'd pant, knowing he'd be coaxing more than one more orgasm out of you. he was addicted to the way you sounded, the way you moved, the taste... oh, the taste. god forbid you're on your period, he'd never be leaving from between your thighs.

he was one who enjoyed pleasing you so much that undoubtedly he'd soiled his pants, cumming without even the faintest of touches.

and don't forget about the aftercare!! he'd be running you a bath filled with soothing perfumed oil and bath salts, staying as close as you'd want, neverending praises spewing from his mouth. "you did so, so good for me, darling. I know, I know, you're tired. but I'll take care of you to the end." he'd even cook you a meal and personally feed it to you, anything you'd want, he'd make it happen.

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

AN: and that's that for now, I hope this wasn't too badly written ;-; I haven't done something like this in a while so don't blame me too much...

should I give Vampire BF a name now, since he's become a frequent flyer? I'm open to suggestions if you guys have any.

#vampire bf #vampire x human #vampire fanfiction #vampire #vampire boyfriend #vampire oc #vampire character #vampire x reader #vampire oc x reader #vampire original character #vampire fiction #teratophillia #terato #monster bf #monsterfucker #monster x human #monster boyfriend #sonder writes

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catenby-perineum · 2 days

Text

Please note

I rolled out of bed to type this because it was weighing on me a bit.

I feel the need to explain this in depth but I really shouldn't have to so I'll toss a tl;dr at the end, I just feel like where I'm coming from is useful or something? I'm not sure.

I just wanted to say that over the time I've run this blog there have been some compliments I felt uneasy about. At the time I often accepted them; Even viewed them as positive things even if something felt off. But dwelling on why they felt off gave me plenty of reason to make this post.

I hold no negative feelings towards the people who offered these compliments because in each case it's been very obvious where they were coming from. Perhaps I'm too nice, but I don't feel negativity about it.

But some people seem to misunderstand what "any pronouns" means or how it interacts with their views of who they are speaking toward.

I have had tags slapped on my pics that amount to things like "#hnnnnnng I love girls/women" as they have misconstrued my acceptance of any pronouns to mean I accept others gendering me for themselves.

I do not.

I have had many people compliment and sext over my "girlcock" or "girlmusk".

I do not have these things.

I am nonbinary, I am agender, I have some fluidity in there but it's constantly bouncing between miasmas of gender rather than along the traditional binary, I am trans and happy about that- it hasn't been a fact I understood for long but I've enjoyed understanding myself more as a person than as a singular gender.

I have a cock, not a girlcock, to put it bluntly.

To put it more clearly, I feel "at home" in so many different terms- so many different titles and pronouns- because I feel myself within them. If someone calls me mistress or miss or sir or whatever I feel myself in that because all of gender feels like a part of my blurry agender identity. Effectively they are calling me by parts of my home or something poetic- I rolled out of bed for this.

But when someone points at me and declares me one thing, calling me a woman in an apparent attempt to show appreciation towards the varied body types that exist within the gender- to show respect towards trans women by what? Misgendering a nonbinary person? It feels like someone found me hot and wanted to label me so they could maintain their preferred sexual identity or something but that's an assumption and not my internal world to explore.

Gendering my body parts as if my acceptance of pronouns extends towards deciding how to label my body for me is the real kicker that has dug at me over time.

At first I took girlcock to be a rather sizeable compliment as it felt divergent from my past identity. People were taking an effort to not see me as simply a man, so that must mean we're going the right direction- I thought.

But as time has sat on it it's just remained uncomfortable and I've long since figured out why.

Pointing at me, a nonbinary agender trans person, and saying "Girl-bodypart" is still incorrect. It's still deciding for me and frankly it feels really weird being in such happy trans circles but still occasionally hearing that I'm a hot transfemme with a hot girlcock when that's not what I am. You can clearly see that's not what I am- it's in my damn name if you needed a reminder.

*sigh* I'm not even actually mad about it, I'm mildly upset I guess, but more in a disappointed and kind of saddened way.

In practice it's just made these "compliments" feel like someone saying you're the coolest ever- at the exact moment you step in a puddle in bare socks. You sure as hell don't feel cool right now and this just feels fucking off and will continue to for a while now, thanks.

TL;DR I am nonbinary and agender and trans and accept any pronouns, this does not mean you can decide I am a woman for the sake of praising me as a hot woman, this also does not mean you can gender my body for the same purpose- I will softly remind you that I do not accept others complimenting my "girlcock" as I do not have one. Thank you.

I guess in conclusion, girlcock fucking rules, trans people fucking rule, I am nonbinary and not a girl and do not have a girlcock, mine's just a cock, I'm going back to bed and love you all 💜

#ag-t

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wexhappyxfew · 1 day

Note

Oooh, those prompts sure do look amazing… the touch one??? I’m so unsure on which one I might be in a crisis….

Soo… after muuuch deliberation, may ask about nr. 17 (holding the other’s chin up) with my girl Carrie? (I have to stay loyal to her, though I love all the other Silver Bullets girls equally)

Thank you 💖

- Carrie anon

carrie anon my apologies for how incredibly late this is (along with the other prompts sitting in the askbox lol) finals season will forever be a struggle lmao. BUT! i'm taking a mental break and here we are with a piece for my beans, carrie x dougie, carrie anon!! :D VERY excited to post this, we get a bit more with carrie's feelings as she's pretty good at hiding them (but not great with hiding them lol). so please enjoy!!

bergie doesn't strike out

(a/n): for the carrie x dougie girlies because this prompt i enjoyed and i figured i'd add some more to carrie's background - a struggle to fit in, to feel wanted, in a time of war. yeah, she's going through it to say the least and in some way, we all can get why :'( please enjoy!

Carrie watched from behind her shot glass as James Douglass waltzed over to the congregating group of Clubmobile girls and talked his talk, pulling out his lighter and offering to light up cigarettes, only before making quite the show of winking and meandering away back towards where he had been previously stood with Hambone and Murphy. She watched him let out a barking laugh before pointing to their cups and nodding to the bar. And that's when he started waltzing over to the bar, where she was stood, rather enjoying her stare-down with her shot glass instead of having to focus on him.

"Carrie Achterbeg, haven't seen you in a minute." she heard him say as he approached - which albeit was the truth. She hadn't come out to one of these in a couple of weeks. After that awkward misunderstanding with one of the guys from the 418th - radio operator, kind eyes, but horrible ego - after he had tried to plant one on her, she didn't want anything to do with the flying club, drinks and pilots. Tonight though was different. And after those last few missions, she needed some sort of melancholy distraction, even if it were a shot or two stood alone at the bar.

"Aren't you a sight for sore ey-" Carrie glanced over at James Douglass and shoved him in the shoulder roughly before throwing back her shot and sighing.

"Don't finish that sentence." she managed out, coughing briefly and then looked at him.

"Dually noted." Dougie said, before leaning up on the bar next to her and watching the side of her face, "What's eating you?" Carrie let out a dry laugh and looked over at him.

"I should be asking you the same thing," she said, before lowering your voice, "struck out, huh?" Dougie raised a brow in her direction and she nodded over his shoulder.

"Tatty, Helen, Virginia…." Carrie said, "Christ, Dougie, you struck out and you struck out hard." Dougie rolled his eyes and leaned more against the bar and nodded to the tender.

"Struck out is a strong word to use in that sense-"

"Sure as hell is currently the right word-"

"There's other words-"

"Struck out is as good as it comes." Carrie said to him and he took the beer from the tender and sighed, before taking a long sip. She watched him for a moment, biting the inside of her lip and then glanced back at her empty shot glass.

She was just punchy, she wasn't in the best of moods, and James Douglass was beginning to grow on her in ways she hadn't expected nor entirely wanted. And her mind was trying to ignore it.

"Why haven't you been coming recently?" Dougie asked her as he casually sipped on his beer, eyes wandering out to the dance floor and then back to her, before grinning wide, "Hambone's been missing ya." Carrie sighed and then stood up straighter and pushed her hair behind her ears and glanced at him.

"Personal choice." she said and then shrugged as she looked out towards the dance floor again, "You missing me, too? You seemed real tangled up with those guys over there. Surprised you came over to say hello." She raised a brow at him and he shrugged her off. Watching him, she then turned, only to be stopped by his arm jutting out.

"Where you going?"

"Just taking a lap around," she said with a shrug, "talk to some people I haven't seen before, ya know, get eyes on everyone." He watched her, a mixture of adornment it seemed and surprise, as she straightened her jacket and then looked at him.

"Everything look good?" she asked him, holding out her arms like she was about to go off on her first day at school and wanted her uniform in check. Dougie held her gaze for a moment before he let his eyes wash down her form and then back up to her face again. Carrie watched him, her collar turning hot as he took a slow sip and let his eyes rest on hers again, that lazy smile growing on his face as he nodded.

"Good is a strong word-"

"Dougie, don't you dare." Carrie muttered, a small smile growing on her face as she shoved at his shoulder, and repositioned herself, hands on her hips and sighed, "Seriously." For a moment, they just watched each other and it should've felt awkward, but in all actuality - it wasn't. And knowing that he was looking at her that fondly almost made her want to stay and talk to him more. But she wasn't like that it seemed.

"You look great," Dougie said, his voice strained as he nodded, "don't let none of those fools do anything funny, alright?" Now, it was Carrie's turn to let out a laugh and raise her brow.

"Since when did you care?" she asked quickly, crossing her arms, "'Cause three weeks ago, I had that stupid radio operator from the 418th practically down my throat and you barely batted an eye." A few onlookers glanced towards the two and it took Carrie a few moments to recognize how loud she had gotten and suddenly emotional in her words. And why did she care if Dougie had barely batted an eye? He shouldn't have needed to. They weren't technically even friends, just a joke or two here and there, some teasing and good-natured tomfoolery, but nothing more. Why did she care that he should care? Carrie sighed. Dougie looked up at her with those big, slightly worried eyes and bit back his lip before nodding.

"Well, now that you've made me aware of that, maybe I will bat an eye next time." Dougie said, looking up at her as his fingers danced against the cool mug of beer, "Who the hell was it?" Carrie stared at him and then blinked slowly.

"It doesn't matter-"

"That's why you didn't come-"

"Dougie-"

"Because he had-"

"Dougie." Carrie said, stepping closer to him, and holding his gaze right in her own, her hand ghosting over his arm as if to latch onto him, but failing to do so, "Let it go. It's over now."

"You brought it up." Dougie said back quickly, but she stopped him with a shake of the head. But then she stood quiet for a moment and let her thoughts grow. She had brought it up. Almost as if she had wanted him to know. Because no one had known. Because she'd been embarrassed that she let herself think that maybe that was a good guy, someone she could live a life with and all he had wanted was a kiss. It was a stupid thought.

"Who was it, Carrie, seriously?" Dougie asked her as she balled up her fists and looked anywhere but his face, which she knew had a look on it that would make her lose it, "A guy from the 418th, huh? He ever heard about a thing called messing with the bull, you damn well be getting the horns-"

"Shh, keep your voice down!" Carrie muttered, bringing a finger in front of her mouth and looking at him with wide eyes, "He was just some jackass that thought I was there to have a good time and that was it." Dougie grew quiet as he watched her. Whatever it was between them seemed to simmer and they both seemed to understand in that minute what she meant. But she wouldn't dare actually say why she had even bothered kissing the guy, or why Dougie was looking at her like that.

"He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Dougie said, his voice softer than it normally was, that look in his eye deeper and darker, "I know a guy-"

"No." Carrie said, her cheeks scarlet, "It was just a stupid kiss, that's it. It's over. I just….I was trying to avoid the situation again and…." She trailed off. She was over talking about it to be completely honest. She looked up at him.

"I'm fine." she said with an honest nod, "Thank you for your…..concern." Dougie watched her, with a slow nod and licked his lips, like he was still digesting her words in their entirety. He didn't say much, he just watched her and she didn't entirely want to complain about that because for one, his eyes were some of the kindness she'd probably seen on this side of the world. And for once, they were eyes that looked at her in a way other guys didn't.

"Just…go have some fun," Dougie said quietly, "give me a look if a guy does something stupid, alright?" And she nodded and looked up at him, as he smiled softly at her, his eyes darting over her own endless blue ones, an abyss of dampened sea and darkened souls. Lost and harrowing. He leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice.

"Don't strike out." he said with a small chuckle and she looked up at him and brought her pointer finger underneath his chin and prodded him lightly to meet her gaze, before whispering back just as quietly.

"Bergie doesn't strike out."

#masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #carrie achterberg #james douglass #carrie x dougie #THEMMMMM #when you can tell they both want to say things to each other but they can't bc they've never crossed that line before #dougie saying she looks great and willing to defend her like bro i WILL just go cry in a corner fr #THEM #i will forever fangirl over these two bc they are absolutely INSANEEE #me yelling from the corner 'just say you like each other and get it over with !!!!'#this is earlier days of them knowing each other but the chemistry is all the same #please enjoy!

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