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lilasamaaa · 2 days

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The night we met | Lando Norris x Reader

Genre | Fluff.

Word count | 2.6K

Warnings | None for once! Enjoy some peace.....

Author's note | This piece is the result of yesterday's poll! Another poll will be coming soon for y'all to decide what's next :)

"I'm really not sure if it's a good idea, Alice," she sighs, looking over at the bed where her friend is seated, behind her.

"What makes you say that?" Alice replies, arching an eyebrow.

"I have a list of reasons, actually," she states, pulling out her phone.

"You and your damn lists!"

"I know you hate them, but they help me clear my mind," she says, clicking on a note.

"Alright, let's hear your reasons then," Alice laughs. "But I'm warning you, I'm going to dismantle them one by one."

"Okay," she starts. "Reason one is : I don't know him."

"That's kinda... the whole point of blind dates," her friend says, rolling her eyes.

"Well, you agreed to this. I did not. You know how anxious I get when I don't know people," she says, head low.

"Lando is a really nice guy," Alice says, coming close to her friend and stroking her hair. "I just know he'll put you at ease right away."

She takes a few seconds to think, biting the inside of her cheek. It's not the first time she's about to go on a date with someone she's never met before. Even though she doesn't know him, she's not really worried about Lando. She's more concerned about herself, to be honest. She's not a model of eloquence, doesn't consider herself particularly pretty. She's sure her date will do his best. What she's not sure about, is if she'll be able to overcome her own anxiety about the whole situation.

"Reason two, then," she says, focusing back on the note. "I don't know a thing about racing. What are we even going to talk about?"

"Well, something else. I'm sure Lando would be delighted to talk about something other than work for once," Alice replies, winking.

She wasn't lying, she thinks. She really has an answer for everything.

"Shoot me with reason three, baby," Alice says, letting out a laugh.

"Reason three," she replies, eyeing her friend. "Let's say I don't fuck up, which would be a miracle in itself, and we hit it off. How am I supposed to maintain a long-distance relationship? We're not talking about Brighton or Cambridge, we're talking about another continent. Several times a year."

"Well, I'm glad you're thinking so much ahead," Alice replies, earning a frustrated grunt from her friend. "There'll be plenty of people who are in the same situation as you. You can always ask for advice from other WAGS," she concludes, laughing.

"You're insufferable."

"Was there a fourth reason to debunk, or are we done here?" Alice asks.

"There is, actually. That's the last one," she says, staring at her phone. "Every time I've gone on a date like this, without having seen the guy... They were never really... to my taste," she begins. "So I've never kissed them, never went any further. But if I like him, what am I supposed to do?"

"What's the real question?"

"Am I supposed to kiss him on the first date? I don't want him to think I'm easy. Is it better to play hard to get and..."

"Wow, you're overthinking this," Alice says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't have any answer to give you. Just... Go with the flow. And if you're not sure about what to do, let him take the lead. Okay?"

An hour later, she's walking through the streets of Bristol, trying to calm her breathing, her thoughts, her already racing heart. She's checked the address Lando had sent her about ten times before leaving Alice's apartment. On principle, she takes out her phone, checking one last time. Her phone indicates that the restaurant is less than a minute's walk away, at the corner of the street she's on. There's still time to turn back, she thinks, before gathering herself. No. He doesn't deserve that.

In front of the restaurant, she casts a quick glance inside, checking if he's already there, before remembering that she doesn't even know what he looks like. Well, she has a vague idea. She's seen pictures on Alice's Facebook and Instagram over the years, but his precise features escape her. She remembers curly hair, beauty spots. Not much more. She's not sure if she would recognize him in a crowd.

She pushes the door and slips inside the buzzing restaurant, politely greeting the waitress who welcomes her.

"I have a reservation for two," she says. "The name's Norris."

"Ah yes, he's already here, in the second room. I'll take you to him," the waitress replies, flashing a smile.

Her heart stops. He's already here? She deliberately arrived fifteen minutes early to have time to settle down quietly, to gather herself. To wash her hands if they're too sweaty. This was not how it was supposed to go at all, she thinks, feeling the anxiety rise.

The waitress guides her through the tables to the small room at the back of the restaurant. On the way, her brain disconnects, giving way to total panic. I knew it was a bad idea, she tells herself, biting her lip. I'm going to make a fool of myself. The waitress suddenly stops, saying something that her brain doesn't comprehend before walking away and she looks up, meeting his gaze.

Oh, wow, she thinks, eyes widening. That man is too handsome for his own good.

"Hey, it's nice to meet you" he says, extending a bouquet of white tulips to her. "Alice said those were your favorites."

She smiles, taking the bouquet before burying her nose in it. Alice, you little sneak.

"Thank you so much," she replies, feeling her cheeks flush. "They're stunning."

Lando pulls out her chair before sitting back down, not taking his eyes off her. Feeling his gaze on her, she dives intensely into reading the menu. Or rather, she pretends to, because she's not even reading, just trying to avoid the attention the driver is giving her.

"You seem nervous," he states, still looking at her.

Feeling her cheeks turn red, she holds her menu higher in front of her face, hiding a little more. "Hey," he says, putting his finger on the menu to lower it. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just really bad at this," she replies, finally looking at him. "Dates, conversations, one-on-ones. It's not about you, I swear."

There we go, she thinks, head low. We've been sitting for ten minutes and I've already messed everything up.

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" he asks, and she looks up, furrowing her brows.

"What?"

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, that wasn't the intention," he says. "A romantic dinner may be a bit much for a first date. So, if you want to go somewhere else, do something else, it's not a problem."

"But... We're already sitting," she says, confused.

"It's no big deal," he replies, shrugging. "The restaurant is packed, they won't go bankrupt because we leave. We can just tell them we don't like anything on the menu."

She lets out a laugh, covering her mouth, astonished by the driver's suggestion.

"If you could go anywhere, a place where you feel comfortable and safe, where would you go?" he asks, his big eyes detailing her.

She thinks for a moment, looking upwards, biting her lip again.

"If we really had no limits... I'd go to the sea," she replies, thoughtful.

"Let's go then," Lando says, rising up and taking his jacket.

"What? Lando, we can't do that," she says, still sitting. "The good beaches are like, an hour drive away."

But Lando has already circled the table, jacket in hand, extending his hand to her.

"My car's parked outside," he replies.

She doesn't understand what's happening, so for once, she sets aside her brain and listens to her heart, grasping his hand and allowing him to guide her towards the restaurant's exit, the driver only stopping to explain briefly to the very understanding waitress that an emergency has come up and they have to leave, carefully slipping several bills in her hand as a tip - and as compensation.

Outside, Lando leads her to his car, their hands still intertwined, her heels clicking on the cobblestones. He opens the door for her and she slips inside, her heart racing.

"I've never done anything like this in my entire life," she says, staring straight ahead.

"You should never force yourself to do something you don't want to do, though," he replies, looking through the rear window to reverse, leaning indirectly towards her. His scent reaches her nose and she can't help but look at him closely, detailing every detail of his profile. His clear eyes. His beauty spots that remind her of constellations. The curly lock of hair that crosses his forehead.

"Does Ogmore work for you?" he asks, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Ogmore's perfect," she replies, eyes glistening.

They set off, and as the English countryside landscape passes by through the window, she notices that for the first time since she left Alice's apartment, she isn't feeling anxious. Her heart still beats just as fast, sure, but she suspects it's not really because of stress anymore. Lando rummages between their seats and eventually pulls out a cable, which he hands to her.

"I don't mind driving, but you're the DJ," he says, laughing. "Put on some music. Let me know who you are."

She grabs the cable before connecting it to her phone, scrolling through her Spotify playlist. So you want to know who I am, huh? she thinks, blushing again, before clicking on her favorite song.

The first notes of "I'm Outta Time" by Oasis resonate in the car, and Lando shoots her a surprised look.

"I actually love that song," he says, smirking. "What does it tell about you?"

"Well," she starts. "As you must be starting to suspect, I strongly identify with the idea that the sea is the only place that manages to calm me down, where I truly feel free."

"I'm with you on that one," he replies.

"And then... It's quite personal, but to me, the song's about someone who's lonely. Someone seeking comfort, a pillar, someone who can support them through everything. But also someone they'd be willing to let go out of love."

Lando turns his head towards her, and she gets lost in the softness and understanding reflected in his eyes. The song comes to an end, and she clicks on "On Melancholy Hill" by Gorillaz.

"I promise I'm not depressed," she says, meeting his gaze, while he lets out a laugh.

"This one's talking about the sea, again," he states.

"There's that," she says. "And there's this dreamy feeling. It's about frustration, about pressuring yourself to achieve big things, when maybe..." she stops for a second. "Maybe just being with your person is enough. Maybe there's no need for more," she finishes, looking out the window, troubled by the feeling of having said too much.

"I get it," he says, still looking at the road ahead.

"You do?" she asks.

"Of course. I'm not the last one to have dreams and goals, as you can imagine. But at the end of the day, when all that's over, what's left? What do you turn to?"

The rest of the journey goes on in the same way. She plays a song, explains why she likes it, what it makes her feel, what it reminds her of. Lando listens attentively, interweaving her narrative with his own anecdotes, sharing his thoughts, his fears. That's much more intimate than a restaurant, she thinks. But somehow, she doesn't mind.

Forty minutes later, a sign indicates that Ogmore is the next exit, and Lando turns onto the narrow road, which soon becomes a path. They leave the car in a parking lot, where only a few cars are parked before embarking on the sandy trail. Before them, the sun has begun to set, tinting the sky with orange, pink, and violet hues.

"Just in time," Lando says before plopping down on the sand. She sits beside him, closing her eyes. Absorbing the healing sound of the waves.

"Thank you so much for this, Lando. You have no idea how much it means to me," she says, feeling emotional.

They both lie there, side by side, without saying a word, lulled by the sound of the waves.

"Do you remember the night we met?" Lando suddenly asks, looking at the sky and the stars that the onset of night begins to reveal.

"What do you mean?" she asks, turning on her side to look at him.

"It was last year," Lando starts, as she furrows her brows, completely lost.

"I'm not sure I understand," she replies, confused. "I've seen you in pictures... But this is the first time we meet."

"Alice's birthday, in London," the driver specifies, and she dives into her thoughts, trying to rewind time. "You were wearing a black dress. Backless."

"I... I remember the birthday, and the dress," she begins. "But I don't remember you. Well, I remember Alice saying you had something come up," she continues, lost.

"I had a work function, couldn't get away. But I still stopped by, dropped off Alice's gift," he explains.

"I'm sorry, Lando," she says, embarrassed. "I don't remember seeing you."

"We crossed paths in one of the hallways of the bar. You were leaning against a wall, talking to someone... Jeff? Greg?" he says, closing his eyes as if trying to remember.

"Jeff? My boyfriend at the time?"

"Yes, that was him. You two were arguing about something, I can't remember what. The tone started to escalate, and you walked off towards the restroom."

"I remember that."

"I found myself in front of Jeff, and I told him, "You shouldn't argue with a pretty girl like that. She deserves better". He told me to fuck off, to mind my business, and left," he recalls, laughing.

"Wow, I had no idea," she says. "Him and I broke up like, four months after that anyway."

"I know. Alice told me."

"Why would she tell you that? It must not be of much interest to you."

"I'd mentioned to her that I found you beautiful. In fact, to be honest, I think I said you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen," the driver says. "So one morning, she texted me. Said something like... "She broke up with Jeff. Time to grow a pair."

"Wow," she says, laughing in shock. "I didn’t know that."

Silence falls. Neither speaks for several seconds. He, wondering if he's said too much. Her, wondering what she should conclude from the driver's words.

"So..." she starts. "When Alice told me that she had planned a blind date..."

"It was my idea," he says, meeting her eyes. "But we couldn't say that."

"Oh, my god," she says, laughing again. "I can't believe you two."

A particularly turbulent wave crashes at their feet, making them yelp and quickly stand up. They're suddenly face to face. Wrapped in a heavy silence. One that cannot last.

"So you did, then," she finally says.

"What?"

"You grew a pair," she replies as he bursts out laughing.

"You're not angry at me, are you?" he asks, taking a step forward.

"I'm... quite surprised, I won't lie. But I'm not angry, no. I've never had a first date like this," she confesses. "I've never felt so listened to, so understood... In so little time. It started off badly, and yet you... you made me feel like I could be myself."

"You can," Lando says, taking her hand. "That's all I want."

"Will you think I'm moving too fast if I kiss you?" she suddenly asks.

"No," he says, coming closer until their breaths meet. "I won't."

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #mclaren f1 #mclaren

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jinwoosungs · 2 days

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{ 159 }

proud to be yours.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

“do you mind turning on the news at 7pm? i have a press conference that i'm kind of nervous about...”

while you were in the midst of making breakfast this morning, jinwoo had come up behind you, casually wrapping his arms around your frame. he brings your back to the front of his chest while telling you his odd request. you giggle, and upon hearing such a delightful sound coming from your parted lips, jinwoo couldn't help but let out his own chuckle in response.

you bask in the vibrations felt with his laughter, swaying side to side with him as he kept his arms around your abdomen. jinwoo seemed to feel a bit playful when he presses several, audible kisses against your hair while gently nibbling at your earlobe.

the sensation of his teeth against your skin makes your laughter increase by a tenfold, with playful protests falling from your lips as you begged him to stop tickling you so much.

jinwoo finally relents after spending the next several minutes teasing and tickling you, keeping still as he gently turned you around so that you were now facing him. meeting his gaze, you play with the front of his suit and smile.

"what's this? you're dressed awfully nice for just a regular day at your guild. and really, i didn't peg you to be the nervous type in front of the cameras."

your boyfriend rolls his eyes at you, reaching down to grab a hold of your hand as he places it against his lips, kissing it momentarily before letting go. "sorry, i'm a little nervous about the conference promoting my guild. that's why... i'll feel so much better knowing that you're watching."

you let out a hum, smoothing out his suit once more while flicking away an imaginary piece of lint (just as an excuse to touch him more).

"if it means so much to you, then i guess i can watch your live conference." your voice was painted with feign disinterest, and you had to fight back a grin when jinwoo begins to pout at you. knowing that you were simply teasing him, he takes a hold of your hand once more before gently biting down at the side of your pointer finger, making you laugh even harder in response.

"alright alright, i relent. i promise i'll watch your conference with love shining in my eyes, only for you."

jinwoo flashes you a smug expression before leaning down to press a quick kiss against your lips. "much better."

his grey eyes look at the time settled on your digital clock, letting out a gasp before pressing one last kiss against your forehead. "damn, better leave now before i'm late!"

he takes quick strides toward the front door, "beru, watch over her until i return."

you felt something shift beside you, hearing jinwoo's most loyal shadow soldier's confident affirmation before disappearing back into your shadow. ready to lock the door for jinwoo, you saw him step out of your shared apartment before stopping.

"you promise to watch the news at 7?"

unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, you lean in to give jinwoo one last kiss before shooing him out of your shared home.

"quit worrying, i'll watch the news at 7, okay? now go, or else you'll be late!"

jinwoo's eyes shine with love for you before finally heading out, allowing you to watch his quickly retreating back as he left for work. only when he was gone did you finally go back into the apartment while shutting the door.

despite how you appeared almost nonchalant at the thought of his upcoming conference, a part of you was quite curious. why did it seem so important to jinwoo that you watch the conference live? surely, it was going to be the same as all the other handful of guild promotions you had seen in the past?

but you digress; sung jinwoo was not only a powerful hunter, but he had one of the most powerful guilds that existed in the entire world. and if he wanted your support, who were you to deny him of it?

especially since you had been together with him for close to 4 years now.

so you spent the day passing time, doing chores with beru's help while making plans for what you would make for dinner tonight. when there was nothing else to do, you would spend the rest of the time on the couch with beru, eating snacks while watching whatever drama was on.

as you trail your eyes toward the clock, you saw the time read 06:50pm and immediately changed the channel to the news. oddly enough, once you changed the channel, beru immediately disappeared back into the depths of your shadow.

"what? beru, you don't wish to watch your king speak?"

yet the former ant king does not answer you, simply staring at you from your shadow, purple eyes seeming to shine with excitement. as you were left pondering beru's strange behavior, the sight of ahjin guild's insignia from your periphery captures your attention. feeling your heart racing with anticipation, you grab your remote and turn up the volume.

hundreds of cameras flash while jinwoo stands at the podium, appearing confident as an almost cocky grin paints his features. seeing him standing so tall makes your heart melt in response for him.

"jinwoo, you've come such a long way... i'm so proud of you."

when he first started out as a hunter, he was meek and uncertain, lacking so much confidence while being labeled as the weakest. you remember those days you helped him heal while comforting him through his tears... remaining together with him not out of pity-

but because you genuinely loved him and wished to make him happy.

and now, you couldn't be happier at the jinwoo that stood before you right now, at this very moment.

"thank you everyone for coming to this important press conference... and allowing me the chance to speak my mind." jinwoo begins the conference, and you let out a dreamy sigh upon hearing his deep voice reverberating across the microphone.

murmurs were heard from the paparazzi, yet jinwoo remains unfazed, eyes flashing purple momentarily before returning back to its calm, grey hue.

"i want to take this chance to dissipate all the rumors surrounding my love life; specifically, the rumors pertaining to my supposed relationship with hunter cha hae-in."

your eyes go wide, feeling your heart beat faster in response as you leaned even closer to the t.v., practically on the edge of your seat as jinwoo kept talking. hunter cha hae-in being his partner in some high level raids had always been a sore subject for you, and despite how you always believed him when he said that she was nothing more than a mere friend and colleague to him, the fact that many news outlets labeled them as the power couple of the century did little to soothe you of your jealousy and heartache.

was this really happening?

was he finally announcing his relationship with you?

as if realizing your gaze settled on the screen, jinwoo flashes a kind smile to the cameras, taking a moment of silence that lasts for a few seconds before he begins to speak again,

"yes, i am not with hunter cha, rather... a woman who has been with me since the beginning. ever since i was a mere e-rank hunter..." he trails off while saying your name, and hearing him say those syllables like it was a reverent prayer made you smile in response, feeling happy tears falling from your eyes in heavy droplets.

he keeps his eyes on the cameras while leaning down to speak within the microphones. he says your name again along with the following words:

"i just wanted to tell you that i am proud to be yours, and that there is no one else i love in the entire world more than you."

after completing his statement, a mischievous smirk was seen settled against his features before he admits.

"also... sorry sarang, but this is actually a recording. you might want to answer the door right about now for your surprise."

the press conference then ends abruptly, flashing ahjin's guild insignia one final time before static was seen. your heart was pounding, forgetting all about the t.v. screen as you made a mad dash toward your front door, opening it-

only to see jinwoo directly in front of you, down on one knee for you as he reveals a gorgeous ring made from your favorite gemstone while decorated with tiny diamonds surrounding it. you gasp in response, feeling your tears fall even harder in response.

jinwoo doesn't meet your gaze just yet, still remaining with his head bowed while he spoke. "sarang, you and i both know that you are the absolute love of my life. you, who has been with me since i was barely a man- who had been with me when i was labeled the weakest in the world."

"you are the one that has seen me at my worst, so it's clear that you are the only one who deserves me when i am at my best."

jinwoo finally faces you then, with unshed tears shimmering within his glowing, purple eyes. "so please, will you do me the honors and marry me?"

you were filled with emotions now, unable to even speak as you could only manage to give him a nod with the tears still streaming down your face.

"y-yes, oh jinwoo, yes! i-i'll marry you!" you manage to tell him while letting out deep breathes of air, trying to calm down, but struggling miserably.

he smiles brightly at you, standing back to his full height as he takes the engagement ring outside of its box, sliding it against your left ring finger while letting out a shaky sigh.

"it's a perfect fit..." you notice the way jinwoo's breath hitches, and you knew that he was doing all he could to not cry, making your heart melt in response.

letting out a sigh of his name, you stand on the tip of your toes, reaching his lips in a sweet kiss. you bask in the way jinwoo's lips perfectly slot against yours, allowing your now fiancé to wrap his arms around you in a tight manner, feeling grateful to be able to share the rest of your days with him.

a.n. - lmao alternate title to this story would be 'when he doesn't screw up his proposal and leaves the ring in his other coat / suit.' 😂

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

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rileyglas · 10 hours

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The List ~Pt. 8 - Change~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: Fueled by alcohol and emotion, you muster the courage to confront Alastor about his feelings toward you. During a heated discussion, more truths come to light. The rules you’ve lived by for so long begin to change as you learn more about who you are meant to become. This will be a night to remember.

Themes: The usual angst, this part does contain SMUT, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, Lucifer is a cunning shit, slow burn, and of course 18+

3.9k Words

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Seven.A Part Eight (You're on it!)

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

You freeze standing in front of the door to the radio tower. A million questions run through your mind. A million scenarios play out. A million possibilities of what you were to expect in the next few minutes. It was second nature by now to prepare for the worst. You deliver three loud bangs against the wooden door that echo through the hall. Every logical thought screams for you to leave but the liquor rushing through your veins keeps your feet planted.

No response. There’s not even a shuffle on the other side. Should I knock again? Maybe he went to his room? You raise your hand to knock again when you hear the click of the lock and knob turning.

The figure before you is almost unrecognizable. Of course it was Alastor but his usually clean pressed suit was replaced with wrinkled slacks and a button down, mostly undone. His hair disheveled in every direction and his eyes had black circles underneath. How does he look even worse than earlier?

“Alastor -” you breathe in shock.

His eye twitches at your voice, “Leave.” he tries to close the door.

You slam your palm against the door to keep it open, “No!”. I didn’t make it all the way up here just to leave without a fight. A snarl crosses his face. He steps aside to allow you to enter. Walking in you see an unusual mess of paperwork along with the rest of his suit pieces thrown frivolously around the room.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of such a late night visit dear?” he sneers as he locks the door behind him. And just like that, every conversation you planned on the way up suddenly leaves your mind. Wait shit…no no no not the blank brain.

“I’m waiting.” he growls, stepping closer to you, annoyed by your lack of reason to be there. You turn away from him and blurt out the only things your alcohol fuzzed brain allowed, “He wants me to leave here to go stay with him. He promised he would protect me and keep me safe and I don’t know if I want that and his touch feels so wrong and – and - all I wanted was to run to you.” You wince from how horribly jumbled your words came out.

A warmth runs up your back and you feel Alastor on your neck. The smell of liquor taints his breath. You stand quietly, bracing for his retaliation. “Please….say something.”

He places his hands on your shoulders. Every muscle tenses from his touch as he speaks, “He wants you to stay with him? To cage you within his own walls?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell him all your little secrets?” he continues with an unsettlingly calm tone. “Y-yes.”

“Did you enjoy his hands on you? His lips against your skin?”

A lump forms in your throat as you shake your head, “N-No.”

Alastor walks around you to stand at his desk, looking out the tower window. “Didn’t we agree you wouldn’t leave the hotel without me?” His voice is smug, exuding his usual radio filter.

Is he stupid?

You scowl, frustrated by his sudden cockiness, “That deal was broken when you decided to be a self-serving, ignorant asshole.”

“Oh my dear, I don’t know how you’ve managed to climb the ranks like you have. Your emotions make you weak, make you sloppy. I have much to teach you.” He says coolly still facing the window.

Oh, okay so he is stupid.

You choose to ignore his comment. “This was a mistake.” you mutter just loud enough for him to hear. Turning on your heel, you head back to the door and reach for the handle, but black tentacles spring up to stop your exit. What the hell!? "Don't do this Alastor." you warn through gritted teeth.

“Come here, please.” There’s suddenly no static, no ringing. You stand your ground and try to leave again only to be pushed back by his dark appendages. “Please.” He repeats, bleak and emotionless. Rolling your eyes with a sigh, you walk across the room and stand next to him, keeping your gaze out the window as well. A familiar comfort washes over you being this close again, but the ache in your chest outweighed any relief. You stand together in silence. Both looking over the city for a long while.

Hesitantly you speak, barely rising above a whisper, “You’re wrong you know. Sure, there’s sadness, depression, anger, selfishness – those weaken the soul. Break you down more than any fall into Hell.” You feel his eyes turn to you, but you stay locked forward, “I would never expect you to understand, but there are some emotions that can empower even the weakest souls. That is how I’ve climbed.”

Rule #4 T̶̷̸̸̸̸̶̵̴̸̶̴̶̷̴̶̸̸̸̵̷̵̵̡̝̙̰̓̌̈̚u̴̶̴̵̷̵̷̸̴̵̴̶̴̵̴̵̷̷̴̸̸̶̶̬͍̯̓̎̈̑ͅř̴̷̷̷̵̴̶̴̸̶̶̶̸̵̴̴̴̷̵̵̴̴̷̲̼̭̱͛̏͠n̶̸̵̶̷̷̴̷̵̷̴̵̷̵̸̶̷̸̴̶̷̴̴̛͓̝͎̱̈́̆̐ ̶̷̷̸̶̷̸̶̷̶̵̴̸̸̴̸̷̷̴̶̵̴̵̦̥͉͔̎͐̾͆ỳ̷̶̵̸̷̵̶̵̵̸̶̶̷̷̷̶̶̸̵̷̶̸̴̥̜̝͆̈̕͜o̴̸̵̶̵̷̶̸̶̴̵̵̴̸̷̶̴̴̶̵̷̴̷͖̯̥̟̍̾̒͠ú̵̵̷̶̴̴̴̷̴̵̶̸̵̵̴̴̶̴̵̷̷̸̵̳̣͔̳̽͊͌r̸̵̴̶̶̶̴̸̸̷̶̵̶̴̸̶̷̵̴̴̶̷̴̬͚̳̜̔̉̍͝ ̸̵̷̶̵̴̵̸̸̶̶̶̸̶̸̶̸̵̸̷̶̷̸̠͚͓͆̈́͌̕͜ẅ̶̵̶̷̸̷̷̸̸̷̷̵̵̸̶̷̴̸̷̷̶̶̴̛̮͓̖́̏̀͜e̴̷̴̴̷̵̴̸̸̵̶̵̶̴̶̸̴̸̸̸̷̷̴͉̮͉͓͑̏̈̐ą̵̶̸̶̴̶̶̵̴̶̴̵̶̴̵̶̵̵̶̸̷̸̶̮͍̱͗͆̚͝k̵̶̶̸̶̴̵̴̷̵̵̴̸̴̴̷̷̸̶̷̸̵̷̺̻̯̜̅̉͒̈́n̷̶̵̴̸̵̷̴̸̴̷̵̵̵̴̶̴̶̶̸̶̶̴̰̫͔̺͑͂̇̍ȩ̴̴̵̶̸̷̸̷̵̷̶̴̵̴̷̷̷̶̸̵̶̶̶̭̹̙͐́̔͘s̸̷̸̶̶̵̷̶̶̶̷̸̶̷̴̵̸̸̵̸̸̸̷̳͔̦̼̐͂̉͌ş̶̶̷̴̵̷̷̸̸̵̷̴̷̸̸̶̸̸̷̸̷̶̵͚̠̺̉͂̒͝ ̵̵̵̷̵̵̶̷̴̵̵̵̷̵̵̷̸̶̸̴̴̶̵̨̟̬̣̇̓̂͝i̷̸̷̵̶̶̴̵̶̶̵̸̸̸̸̵̶̴̸̵̸̵̸̥̦͈͛̾̂͜͝ṉ̷̶̶̸̶̷̸̶̷̷̷̵̶̶̴̸̴̸̵̵̷̶̴̣͓̳͂̉̿̓ț̴̶̴̴̴̷̸̷̶̴̸̶̴̶̷̸̷̷̷̵̵̸̵̨̪̩̍̒́̐ò̵̵̴̶̷̶̷̷̴̶̶̶̶̶̸̷̶̴̶̷̵̵̴͔̭̙̿̈́͌͜ ̶̶̵̸̶̴̷̷̵̸̸̵̶̴̷̵̸̷̴̵̷̵̷̢̹̖͍̊̄̀̓s̵̴̷̸̸̸̵̴̵̶̴̶̷̵̸̸̷̷̸̷̷̵̷̙̮̭̰̀̽͋̓ẗ̷̵̷̷̷̷̶̵̶̴̸̷̷̵̸̵̸̴̵̴̷̴̸͎̗͉̹́̇͌͝r̷̸̷̶̴̶̴̶̸̵̸̷̶̴̶̴̶̷̶̶̵̸̸̮̭̺̘̀̃̍͆ȩ̷̶̴̵̴̴̴̴̷̸̵̴̷̴̷̴̵̷̵̷̸̴̷̭̤͙͒̂̇̈́n̴̴̶̵̷̵̵̷̵̸̷̴̴̵̶̶̵̴̷̴̶̷̵̢͙̪̩̈́͊̔͘g̵̴̶̴̶̷̷̶̵̴̸̷̶̶̴̴̶̷̶̴̷̵̵̝̘̩̪͒͋̕͝t̶̸̸̷̸̵̷̵̵̷̵̵̶̸̸̴̷̸̴̸̵̴̶̳͚̘̪͐͑͝͝h̵̶̸̷̶̴̷̶̸̵̷̵̸̷̴̴̵̴̷̸̵̴̸̡̭̝̤͂́͆̿

He holds his gaze as another long silence passes. In the past his stare always felt heavy, as if he was trying to find every flaw or insecurity you could possibly have but tonight, he didn’t burn into you. Tonight he was soft and present.

“I think I’m beginning to understand such sentiments.” He mutters. “Look at me.”

You shake your head and look to the floor. “I can’t play this game with you. It was never just about power to me. I need you to realize that.” The last few days you cried so much you didn’t think you could produce any more tears, yet here they are again, stinging just behind your eyes.

“I had every intention of keeping us nothing more than mutual partners, to only feed from the power we could create. I did what was necessary to keep you close.” Alastor gently takes your hand, intertwining your fingers in his, “But I never expected — I - I didn’t think — This is not a game to me.”

He doesn’t get it. Your hand jerks away from his. “You have a shitty way of making me believe otherwise.”

A frustrated grunt leaves his chest, “I knew the moment Lucifer met you and felt the power you held, he’d try to take you away. His reaction from seeing us together made it all the more obvious. As much as I hate to admit it, that insolent King is far from stupid.”

“You actually think he feels threatened by me? Or you?” You shake your head in disbelief, “It’s Lucifer, THE fallen angel…the fuckin’ devil himself! He doesn’t need anything. Why would he bother being so open, s-so vulnerable? The man practically crumbled to me. He even compared me to…to Lillith.” “How bold of him.” He grumbles unamused, “Do you really think he would say such things to someone he didn’t know could – “

“He kissed me, Alastor. He kissed me like - ”

“Like he loved you?” he scoffs at the statement. You watch his body grow with rage, “You want to talk about playing games? Are you so blind to not see he’s the one playing you!? You’re weaker than I thought falling so easily to someone like him.”

Hot tears flow down your face, though you can’t decide if it’s out of anger or hurt. “I’m not weak!”

“Then start acting like it!” His eyes begin to flicker black and red as static floods the air, continuing to grow into his demon form.

“It’s not weak to want to be wanted by someone who doesn’t have intentions to….just use me!” You find yourself screaming at the demon, flames starting to surround you. Why can’t he see past his own selfishness…

Alastor goes quiet as he comes down from his form. He beams an arrogant smile at your tear-soaked face, “Silly girl, he wishes to keep you in his castle. To keep you as his pet. He might not need your power but if you think he actually wants you without some ulterior motive, you’re naive and foolish.”

“FUCK YOU!” Having had enough berating, you turn away to leave but his large claw catches your arm to pull you back into him. “What Alastor!? What else could you possibly have to say to me!?”

He leans against his desk and pulls your body between his legs, “Do you not remember what I said the first time we made a deal? Together, you and I could become more powerful than the King of Hell himself.” You tilt your head, “Okay and?”

“Use your head for once! What all powerful being would be willing to risk the possibility of being overthrown? Angel or not, he isn’t invincible. He can’t hide his fear of the potential we possess.”

The lightbulb finally fires in your brain. Of course...

Rule #1 B̸̶̵̵̷̴̴̷̶̶̶̨͎̈́ę̴̶̸̷̵̷̸̵̸̴̴̜͊̋ ̸̷̴̸̶̷̵̷̴̴̴͔͙̈́͠o̸̸̸̵̸̷̵̷̶̸̸̲̟̐̀p̶̸̸̴̸̴̵̵̵̴̵͍̞̒̂e̵̴̴̵̸̶̸̸̷̵̶̩̊̑ͅň̸̴̸̶̶̵̴̴̴̶̶̥̕͜ ̴̴̸̴̵̷̷̸̷̶̴͇͙̐̎t̸̷̸̴̵̶̷̴̴̴̷̡̝̂͆o̵̵̴̴̴̷̴̶̸̶̸͚͉̍͌ ̵̶̸̷̶̵̵̸̶̷̸̛̱̗͝t̸̵̷̷̸̶̴̴̷̴̸̗͎̎͑r̸̵̴̴̶̶̵̸̴̴̷͙̣̉̑ǘ̵̴̶̸̸̴̸̶̷̷̸̯̦̓s̸̸̶̶̵̸̸̶̵̸̴̩̰̍̿ṯ̷̶̴̶̸̵̷̴̴̴̴̛́ͅ,̸̷̸̶̸̵̵̴̴̶̵̡͍̈͑ ̶̴̷̴̸̷̵̵̴̴̴̣̤̾͝b̸̵̶̵̵̸̵̶̴̴̶̛̜̹̀u̵̵̶̵̷̷̸̶̸̷̵͈͈̎́t̵̸̷̴̶̵̵̶̷̶̵��̞̔̚ ̴̸̴̷̷̷̶̷̵̷̶̞̯̋̚n̴̶̵̷̴̷̷̴̶̴̶̳̮̎̈ȩ̵̶̴̵̷̴̵̸̶̵̴͍̀̑v̵̷̸̸̸̵̴̵̷̶̴͔͗͝ͅe̴̷̷̵̵̵̵̸̸̵̵̡̤͋̀ř̵̴̸̵̷̵̸̷̵̶̴͈͘ͅ ̴̸̷̶̵̷̶̸̵̶̵͖̟̔̃d̷̷̵̷̴̶̸̷̶̵̵͈̘͐̔o̷̸̵̷̴̵̵̵̶̸̵͕̙͊̌ ̴̴̴̵̷̷̸̶̵̷̴̜̜̅͘s̷̴̴̵̶̵̶̴̵̸̷̬͈̏̍ò̴̵̴̸̸̶̸̶̶̴̶̫̠̀ ̴̴̷̴̶̸̷̴̵̸̶̯̼̃̓b̷̷̴̶̶̷̶̴̶̵̶̘̹̐̈́l̷̵̸̸̵̵̴̸̷̵̴͎̫͂̉i̷̷̸̶̸̶̵̵̶̵̷̤̪͗̾n̶̴̷̷̷̶̵̶̵̸̶͉̺͑̚d̵̶̵̵̵̴̷̷̸̵̴̖̠͐̉l̶̷̸̸̷̸̴̵̴̵̴̖̘͆͌y̶̶̵̷̵̴̴̴̸̸̵͇̆̾͜

You hang your head in embarrassment by the horrible realization. If you could shrink down to the size of an ant, you would. I should have known better… “He wants to keep us apart so we have no way of rising to power…he wants control. He knows what’s possible, doesn’t he?”

Alastor stays silent but his eyes give you all the answers you need.

You bury your face into his chest, furious with yourself for not seeing it sooner. “I’m so stupid. He got me to trust him and…I told him so much…I showed him…shit…he knows.” Alastor wraps his arms around you tightly. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh.

“You’re not stupid. I should have told you the morning of his visit instead of -.”

“No - I allowed my own desires to cloud my voice of reason. I want to help…to protect those who can’t do so for themselves. But fuck, for once it was nice to feel wanted for who I was, not just what I could do…” you admit sheepishly, surprising even yourself with your words.

Alastor’s hands affectionately cradle your face. His thumbs softly wipe the tears that remained on your cheeks, “I want you. My body aches and pulls to you. I want to be powerful with you. I know I’ve made you feel like you were nothing to me when in reality, that couldn’t be farthest from the truth.”

“Then say it.” You say plainly as your eyes dart between his. He cocks his head trying to understand your demand. “Tell me the truth. Look at me, swear on your mother’s soul, and tell me the truth.” You needed to hear it from him. You need the words to leave his mouth.

He lets go of you and stands up straight, “Husker talked with you, didn’t he?”

Uhg Husk isn’t going to hear the end of this…

Frustration bubbles in your chest, “Don’t pin this on him! You just said -”

His lips press into yours forcefully and you melt into his arms. You’ve craved this feeling for so long that you didn’t dare reject him. Static begins to pulse through your body like never before. Opening your eyes, you see pink and green light surrounding you both. My power has never radiated like this with him. It only should only happen when — oooh fuck I get it now…

Rule #2 Ḑ̸̵̵̴̴̴̴̵̷̷̸̴̷̴̸̴̴̷̷̵̷̫̩̼̃͐̃͐͜͝o̵̴̶̷̸̶̶̴̸̶̵̷̴̶̷̸̷̴̷̴̷̞̗̣̟̖͐͂̽̊͐n̴̶̶̷̸̸̴̵̷̵̶̵̸̵̷̴̶̸̴̴̸̻̤͍̺͋͐̀̈́̂ͅ'̵̴̵̶̴̵̵̸̶̸̸̷̷̶̵̷̵̵̷̴̶̢̫͖̱͑̆̽̌́͜t̶̴̴̶̴̶̸̶̴̶̸̵̴̴̴̴̷̶̵̵̷͕̼̦̠̘̽́̾̄̈́ ̷̷̶̵̸̶̵̶̷̸̸̵̴̸̸̵̸̷̶̶̶͉̹̰͙͔̈́̂͐̆̌b̶̵̴̸̷̸̷̴̷̴̵̸̴̵̶̴̸̷̸̵̸̲̝̖̦͚͗̿͊̎̌ȩ̸̵̴̶̵̸̵̴̴̷̸̴̶̵̴̷̸̷̵̴̵̩̦͎͇̃͌͐̔̕ ̷̶̶̸̸̶̶̴̶̵̷̸̴̸̶̶̶̷̷̸̶̹̬̙͎̲̉̈͆͆̏a̸̴̶̶̴̵̸̷̶̴̷̴̴̸̷̷̵̶̷̷̶̙̣̹͍͙̒̏́͘͝f̸̴̷̶̸̴̶̸̴̴̶̶̴̶̶̷̶̶̸̸̶̨̡̧̻̯̐̓̐͑̈r̴̵̶̴̸̷̵̸̸̵̸̸̷̶̷̷̵̶̸̷̴̭̩̪̞̻̈́̄̆̔̎ả̶̸̵̵̶̶̴̸̸̴̷̶̶̷̶̶̴̵̵̶̶̢̡̦̖̠̾͑̾͂i̷̶̶̷̸̶̵̵̶̴̸̴̴̴̸̴̷̸̸̷̵̪̩̜̗̦͂̔̂̓͝d̸̴̸̸̸̸̶̵̴̸̶̴̵̸̶̷̴̶̶̶̵̰͚̪̺̥̒́̏̍͠ ̵̶̶̸̵̶̴̴̶̶̸̷̸̵̸̴̵̸̶̸̶̧̰̠͎̪͋̋̒͋̿ẗ̸̵̸̵̸̸̴̸̵̷̶̷̷̶̸̸̷̴̷̸̸̳͇͕̜̟̒̓͌̈ȍ̸̵̶̷̴̸̸̸̷̸̴̵̵̸̵̵̴̸̴̶̷̖̳͔̭̖̄͊̐̆ ̷̸̶̴̷̶̵̸̵̶̷̵̴̶̸̶̸̴̸̴̷̲͎̩̣͂͛̂͜͝͝ṣ̴̶̴̸̸̴̴̶̴̶̵̶̶̴̵̵̴̶̵̷̵̨̠͔̮̑͂͗̑̔ḫ̶̵̶̶̵̴̴̶̸̵̶̴̸̷̵̶̴̷̶̵̶̡̨̻̼̿͛̈́͌͘ö̶̶̵̴̶̸̵̴̴̴̴̷̷̴̷̷̶̴̴̶̴̞̲͙͉̬́̈́́̓͝w̸̴̶̶̶̵̸̸̷̶̵̴̴̷̶̴̶̵̴̶̶̝͎͓̼̤͐̆͊͊͐ ̴̶̶̷̶̶̴̴̶̷̸̴̷̸̶̵̷̵̵̶̵̡̻̪͍̙̈́̇͗̂͐y̶̸̶̵̸̴̸̶̴̷̶̵̸̷̶̷̶̸̸̴̵̦͕̲̱̥̾͗͊̋͠o̴̵̵̴̴̵̷̴̸̶̸̵̶̷̷̴̴̸̷̶̷͈̻͚͙̔̎̀̎̕͜u̶̴̸̶̷̶̵̵̴̸̶̸̵̴̷̸̶̵̷̸̵̻̥̩̭̿͗̐͆͌ͅr̸̷̴̵̶̵̸̶̴̷̶̵̴̴̵̵̸̶̶̷̵͖̙̼̝̝̃̽̊͗́ ̴̷̶̵̸̴̸̵̵̷̸̶̴̵̵̵̶̶̶̵̷̧̥̥̫̭͑̈̆̔̈p̵̴̴̸̶̶̸̴̶̴̸̷̸̶̵̷̸̶̴̶̷̺̰̪͎͓͋̆̄͆̕o̷̶̴̸̸̶̵̸̴̵̸̷̸̴̵̴̴̵̵̵̸̹̟͔̱͉͆̀̐́̈́w̶̸̵̵̵̸̶̷̸̵̴̸̶̴̷̴̸̷̶̵̸̼̣̘̖͐͋͑̂͝ͅȅ̷̷̵̶̶̵̶̵̶̷̴̸̷̵̵̷̸̷̸̶̵̛̼̩̭͓̍̅͊ͅr̵̸̸̶̶̷̶̶̸̶̸̸̸̷̶̴̸̶̴̴̷̨̻̹̪̽͛͒͝͝ͅ

He breaks the kiss to rest his head against yours, panting from the sudden passion, “I swear…on my darling mother’s soul…I love you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Alastor’s face twists with a mixture of regret and embarrassment, “I’ve made it a point to be ruthless and unwavering. I thought showing anything more would label me weak. When I returned to the city feeling such foreign urges…I thought I was going mad.” You smirk trying to hide the pure joy rushing over you, “Is that Alastor or the copious amount of liquor talking?”

“Probably both.” He chuckles through a smile you swear could split his face in two if it went any wider. Your hand runs under his open shirt and across his chest playfully, “Oooo what other confessions can I get out of the great Radio Demon?”

Alastor huffs at your sudden confidence, “Oh - ho darling don't push your luck. Terrible of you to take such advantage of me in this state.” Your lips curl into a half-hearted smile, but doubt continues to flood your thoughts, “You say you love me - but your words have failed me before.”

He grimaces, “After seeing you with…him…the pain of possibly losing you consumed my mind. I went to see a good friend of mine who was able to put things in a new light. I believe the words she used were, ‘Words are cheap, but actions, they speak for the truth’.”

Time to test my luck as usual. “Then show me.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead and trails down your face, stopping at your lips. “Are you sure?” he asks breathlessly. You nod and push against him with enough force he has to brace himself against the desk. He swiftly returns your passion and draws you flush with his body. As he deepens the kiss with his tongue, you feel him spin and lift you up on his desk - slotting himself between your thighs.

Your hands dance up his body, impulsively undoing the last few buttons of his shirt before pulling it off his shoulders. You break the embrace as you feel the scars that riddled his body. “How -?”

“I didn’t become who I am without some loss, my dear. Does it repulse you?”

“Never.” Entranced, you ghost across each mark making him shiver. Desire crashes over you seeing his body react to your touch. Your fingers continue to flutter over his skin to the small tufts of red hair that trail down his stomach. Stopping at his belt, you lift your eyes to his, “This isn’t like before Alastor. I can’t handle any more disappearing or deals or secrets. Are you ready for that? Are you certain I am what you want?” Your words seem to plead rather than question him.

He pulls your hips into him as he lays you back on the desk, trailing kisses down your jaw. “You’re all I’ve wanted for a long time darling.” he purs into your ear, voice dripping with lust. Is this really happening?

You let out a yelp when his claw abruptly slices down your shirt. He’s too impatient, too deprived of you. His eagerness continues to fuel the heat growing between your thighs. He chuckles as the buttons of your shirt scatter across the room, “Nothing a trip to the tailor can’t fix.”

He begins to pepper kisses across your collarbone, down your sternum, and over your stomach, pulling soft whimpers from your lips. A devious smile crosses his face as he unbuttons your pants and slides them off your legs along with your underwear. He stands himself between your thighs once more, “Utter perfection.” he breathes. The sudden sound of his belt being undone and ripped from its loops sends goosebumps across every inch of your exposed skin. Last chance to - no…I want this….we need this…

You feel his hard warmth start to slide between your folds. He groans from contact, “It seems you’re already begging for me, darling.” Propping yourself on your elbows, you look down at his length as he teases your entrance. Alastor notices your worried expression, “Take a deep breath and relax, I’ll go slow.” He slowly begins to push himself into you and his mouth falls on yours, begging to catch every moan of pain and pleasure.

Your walls clench from the sudden but welcomed sting. He stills to allow your body to adjust to his size. “Too much?” he asks. You shake your head, “No, keep going.” He continues to push into you, hissing into your neck as he bottoms out against you. You can’t remember your previous experiences from when you were alive, but you were positive you’ve never felt this level of fullness or satisfaction.

You wrap your legs around his waist and tangle your hands into his hair, giving a firm pull at the base of his antlers. “F-f-fuck –“ he mouths while rolling against you, craving friction but not daring to push until he feels your body relax. You buck into him as a silent plea to keep going. He begins to pull out at an agonizingly slow pace, groaning gravelly praises each time he drives back inside, “That’s it.” “Deep breaths cher.” “Give in to me.” He was completely controlled, each stroke deep and intentional.

“Al –“ You cover your face to muffle your moans, surprised by how dazed you’re already becoming. Each thrust you feel him hitting a spot that sends mind numbing electricity through your body. He moves your hands away from your face, “No hiding - it’s just you and me.” His voice is laced with a sweetness you’ve never heard from the demon before.

It isn’t long before the tension in your lower stomach builds. He draws you up against him and grips one of your thighs, putting you in a position that allows his pelvis to grind into you as he quickens his pace. Your fingers dig into his arms to steady yourself.

You throw your head back with a guttural moan, your noises are pure music to Alastor’s ears. He can’t resist breathing sweet words into your neck, repeating how good you look like this, completely filled by him, no one on your lips but him. In between his admirations, he runs his teeth across your throat, nipping and sucking little marks to claim you that much more.

His gentle whines across your skin bring you that much closer to release, “Alastor…please…more…”. Any self-control he was holding onto snaps at the sound of your pathetic pleas. Feeling him pull out completely, you protest under your breath. He turns you around and bends your body over the cold wood of the desk. A dark groan rumbles in his chest as his hand slides up your spine and his fingers thread into your hair. He pulls you back gently to lean into your ear, “You want me to show you how much I love you, cher?”

Without waiting for an answer he jerks your head back to crash into you from behind, filling the room with an unholy mixture of your cries and the sound of your bodies connecting over and over. Your back arches from his grip pulling you deeper into his thrusts. Any control he had with you before is long gone. The demon loses himself as your walls tightly massage around him and your sweet sounds feed his desire.

His free hand wraps around your body. You cry out again feeling his fingers start to massage your aching bud. Your nails dig into his desk and tears begin to stream down your face from the intense stimulation. “D-don’t…p-please…I’m.. – ” you pant nearing the edge of your high. Looking back, you watch his antlers grow.

“Say…my name….a-a-AGAIN!” he stammers between breathy grunts. Unable to hold back any longer, you bow back into him, feeling the tension in your stomach finally snap, “Oh God, Alastor!” you gasp. Every muscle trembles beneath him as your body welcomes the long awaited release.

He plunges deeply once more to feel you spasm around him. “There’s no God here, cher.” He growls as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making his name fall from your lips once more. Hearing you scream his name pushes him over into his own resolve. His body stutters, filling you with every drop of him. You bask in his whimpers as he rides out the high.

Your body collapses on the desk. Alastor lies on top of you kissing every bit of skin he can reach. You hiss as he runs his tongue across the fresh blood trickling from your shoulder, “No one will have the pleasure of tasting you again.” His chest rumbles against you. He continues to drag his lips across you, remaining inside to take in your body just a little longer. For the first time in weeks your mind is blank, entirely present in the moment, drinking in every second of his body being one with yours.

“Stay still dear.” he commands, grudgingly pulling out and away from you. The cold air from his sudden absence makes you shudder. You let out a breathy giggle at the feeling of his warmth trickling out and down your legs. Alastor returns and starts to run a cloth between your thighs, “I admit, I quite enjoy you like this.”

“What? Vulnerable and naked?” you tease.

“Unequivocally mine.”

You turn around to wrap your arms around his neck. “Say it one more time for me?” He rolls his eyes but happily obliges to the request, “I’ll say it a million times if I need to - I love you.”

“I love you, Alastor.” Rule #3 K̸̷̵̴̸̸̸̵̵̵̵̸̷̶̶̵̷̴̶̶̴̫̩̻̗͚̇͆͑̈́̀e̴̶̷̷̶̷̷̶̵̵̶̵̵̶̶̶̵̴̷̷̷͙̪͔̫̣͛͐̎̀͝e̵̸̷̵̷̴̸̸̸̷̷̷̴̵̶̴̷̴̵̵̴̢͈̬͍̺͗̌̒̆͝p̵̷̷̴̷̸̶̶̵̵̷̷̴̶̶̷̷̵̷̸̸̧̛̦̤̼͚͋̅̄͝ ̷̸̸̸̴̵̵̷̵̶̷̴̵̷̸̷̵̵̴̴̸̺̳͚̩̤́̓̈́̇̌t̷̶̸̴̶̴̵̴̷̸̴̸̸̷̸̸̸̶̶̶̵̤̣͙̫̹̃̉̌͂̂h̴̸̸̶̷̷̶̶̵̸̷̶̵̵̵̴̶̴̷̶̴̡̘̯͖̝́̽̌̌̏ȏ̵̴̸̷̷̷̵̴̴̶̵̸̸̷̸̶̵̶̶̸̸̱͍̞̉̓̚͜͝ͅs̶̵̴̷̸̸̵̸̵̵̷̶̵̴̷̶̷̷̴̵̴̢͙̹̯̗̾̒̃͒͝ȩ̶̴̷̵̴̸̴̸̶̴̵̵̵̵̸̵̷̵̵̴̵̧͇͙̠́̑̈́̊̄ ̷̵̵̸̵̷̷̶̶̶̷̸̸̴̴̸̵̸̵̸̸̧̦̘̖̺̔̀̂̌͛y̸̵̶̶̴̶̸̴̸̴̶̸̷̶̴̶̸̸̸̴̸̢̘̼̗̰̌͒̕͝͠o̸̴̶̸̵̶̸̷̴̸̶̶̷̴̸̶̷̴̷̷̶̡̨̖̭̠̊̾̆̓͗ų̵̶̸̵̷̶̴̸̵̵̷̴̵̶̶̴̷̶̷̶̷̙͕͚̰̀͆̔̉̌ ̴̸̷̶̴̷̴̶̴̶̶̵̸̸̸̵̸̴̴̴̴̤͍̤͖͎̐̐̑͆̕l̶̸̵̶̶̷̷̸̷̵̶̴̶̴̶̵̸̶̷̴̶̡͇̦̩̰͋̈͊̈́́o̸̶̸̷̶̶̸̴̴̶̴̶̷̶̵̸̴̶̸̸̶͕̜̟̥̼͐̐̀̈́̐v̸̶̴̸̸̷̶̷̷̵̵̷̴̶̸̷̸̶̵̴̴̟͙̩̝̭̒̒̋͘̕e̵̶̵̶̴̸̴̶̶̷̵̷̸̶̶̴̵̶̷̴̵̺̬̩͔̺̓̾͆̕̚ ̶̷̶̷̴̶̶̸̷̷̴̴̷̴̷̶̴̵̸̸̴̨͈̣̩͕̉͋̎̿̀c̶̸̶̵̵̴̴̴̷̵̷̶̷̴̴̴̴̷̸̵̵͓̳̘͓̬͐̐̈́̌̈́l̸̶̸̷̴̷̴̷̸̵̷̷̵̴̷̷̷̵̸̵̴̢͎͍̻̈́́͊̚͜͠o̸̵̷̸̷̷̵̸̴̴̶̸̷̷̴̶̸̷̷̸̶͇̻̣̯̖̐̿̕̚͝s̴̷̸̷̷̴̵̴̴̶̵̷̵̸̴̴̵̶̷̵̷̛̠͍̳̥͔͆̐̃͝ë̶̵̴̷̵̵̷̷̸̸̸̴̶̴̶̸̵̴̷̴̷͈̳̙̟̥́͑̔͘͠

Green and pink light reflects off the walls once more as you kiss him, bodies vibrating from the connection. He grins against your mouth, “Your power grows darling. You’ll need to learn to control it if we are going to keep this up.”

You groan at the thought, “I’ll add it to my list of things to do tomorrow.”

Alastor nods and walks over to a chair where a few of his shirts were laid over the arm, pulling one on himself and tossing you another, “This should suffice long enough to make it back to our room.” You slide the shirt over your shoulders and let out a sigh of relief seeing it was long enough to hit mid-thigh. Last thing I need is someone in the hall seeing more than they want.

Without thought you inhale the intoxicating smell of his cologne that still lingered on the material. Every worry you had could wait until tomorrow. Right now, you selfishly only wanted to live and breathe Alastor. You begin to button the shirt but freeze at the realization of what he said, “I’m sorry, did you say our room?”

A hand presses against your lower back, “You don’t actually expect me to let you too far from me again, do you cher? Your things have already been moved. Now, shall we?” He beams as he picks you up, carefully minding that you remain covered. Like second nature your arms slink around his neck, “I can walk you know, don’t give yourself that much credit over what just happened.”

He starts to make his way out of the tower, “I wouldn’t be so smug if I were you dear. I’ve been without you, craving you, for a long time. This is to save your energy for when we make it back to the room.” His tone was playful, but you could hear the underlying threat.

Two can play that game. You mischievously start to gently bite and kiss his neck while whispering taunts in his ear, “Looks like the scary Radio Demon has lost his self-control.”

That comment combined with a solid bite to his neck is his breaking point. Before you make it to the door the world spins out and back in. You feel yourself fall back forcefully against the silk sheets of his bed. Looking down you see Alastor hungrily climbing over you with feral eyes. He growls through a toothy smile, “Want to say that again love?”

I don’t think I’m getting any sleep tonight.

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone @phamtasic @ohnah2022 @eris-norwega @kaylopolis @littlebluefishtail @little-slyvixen @laudrawin @qu1cks1lversb1tch @diffidentphantom

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firelordsfirelady · 14 hours

Text

X. Breaking Free

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess?

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 1081

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here.

I sat at the desk in my room as I guided the pencil strokes on the piece of paper. The lines and curves I made slowly began to resemble someone kicking the air in front of them. Chewing on the end of the pencil, I debated which element to add to the end. As I stared at the drawing, I found the stance similar to a move Zuko had used during one of our training sessions. The muscles in my hand moved on their own accord as they effortlessly guided the pencil to draw a fireball coming from the kick. I was debating if I wanted to add shading to the picture when I heard some commotion.

I emerged on the deck to find the crew smiling as they walked around to their stations. Iroh stood by the railing as he sipped from his cup of tea.

“Y/N, my dear, how are you feeling?” Iroh gave me a wide smile as I approached his place by the railing. The crew around us rushed to get the ship ready to leave.

“I’m feeling okay.” I shrugged before Zuko approached us with a victorious grin on his face. I felt the color drain from my face, but I placed a smile on my face as the Prince came to stand with us.

“We have set course for the Fire Nation.” Zuko’s words were full of excitement, and I felt my heart shatter as I digested his words. I fought the heartbreak at the thought of him being excited to return home to someone else.

“I believe this calls for cupcakes.” I clapped my hands together. Looking between the two Firebenders, I smiled as neither of them had the chance to say anything before I added, “No objections? Good.” Respectfully bowing to Zuko and Iroh, I casually walked away until I was below deck and out of sight. Walking into the kitchen, I told Shisam that I wanted to use the kitchen for a while to make cupcakes for everyone.

“Do you want a hand in making the cupcakes?” Shisam asked. “I don’t bake much, but I did bake for my daughter’s birthday every year.” I gave the man a smile as I nodded my head.

“If you would like to.” Shisam smiled as he grabbed some mixing bowls. Together, Shisam and I mixed enough batter to make enough cupcakes to feed the entire crew. As the cupcakes baked, Shisam told me about his ten year-old daughter back home and all the things they enjoyed doing together. After the cupcakes were done, Shisam offered to deliver the cupcakes to the crew’s quarters. Smiling in thanks, I fixed a plate of cupcakes for Zuko and Iroh. I left the rest of the cupcakes for the kitchen staff to enjoy as they came in to work on preparing dinner.

My footsteps were light as a feather as I walked to Iroh’s door with a plate full of my cupcakes. I could hear a faint discussion behind the door. I paused at the door before I knocked

“Don’t you think your return home might be…surprising to your father?” Iroh’s voice was laced with concern.

“What matters is that I have proven my honor to my father.” Zuko’s words were said with such conviction. “Nothing else matters more than that.” My heart’s muscles painfully contracted in my chest.

“What about Y/N?” The mention of my name made my breath catch in my throat. “What do you think will happen with your engagement?” Zuko scoffed at Iroh’s concern for me.

“Father will probably withdraw his approval for this marriage.” Zuko’s bitter words felt like a dull knife pierced through my heart.

“You are the master of your own destiny, Zuko.” I swallowed the ache in my chest before I placed a forced smile upon my lips and then knocked on the door.

“Iroh?” I asked in an innocent tone as if I hadn’t just overheard their conversation. The door in front of me opened to reveal a smiling Iroh. I looked over Iroh’s shoulder to find Zuko standing with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The Prince refused to meet my eyes, and I quickly shifted my attention to Iroh as I held out the plate of cupcakes to the older gentleman.

“Y/N,” Iroh tried to greet me in a lighthearted manner. “What gorgeous-looking cupcakes. I hope they’re as tasty as they appear.” Iroh’s words did little to ease the pain I felt, but I placed the plate in his waiting hands with a smile on my face.

“Who else do you know that makes better sweets?” I forced a light laugh from my chest. “Do let me know what you rate them at dinner?” I asked as I slowly took a step backward. He nodded his head in response.

“I look forward to it.” Iroh said, and I bowed to the two of them before I turned on my heel and walked away. As I heard the door to Iroh’s room shut, I stopped to lean against the wall of the hallway. A shadow moving in the corner of my caught my attention, and I looked over to watch as Zuko’s door closed. I could feel my pulse in my head as I quietly walked over to the door and listened to the sounds of someone moving quietly within. Summoning every ounce of bravery I had, I threw open Zuko’s door and found a young Airbender standing in front of Zuko’s desk. He held a small leather journal in his hand. The color drained from my face as images of the previous Avatars flashed before my eyes. Blinking away the images, the Airbend held a finger to his lips.

“Zuko--” I yelled out as I shifted into an offensive stance. A blast of air blew me at the wall behind me. I heard Zuko shout as my head hit the wall and the world went black.

There was a soft mattress supporting my body when I slowly regained consciousness. I let out a soft groan as my body ached.

“We have set a course for an outpost nearby.” Zuko’s somber voice came from beside me. Slowly opening my eyes, I found Zuko staring at his feet as he sat in the chair next to my bed. “You need to rest.” “Don’t worry, Zuko…we will find the Avatar….” My words were slow and quiet as my eyes fluttered close and I gave away to a dreamless slumber.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @junieshohoho @0kauy @coolgirl458 @hypnoticbeing @angelruinz @preeyansha @playboygeniusphilanthropist @ssonniiu @chi-ara @hagridshaircare @stell404 @kyo-kyo1 @hagridshaircare @herondale-lightworm @simonsbluee @nadlx33333 @nerdisthenewcool

#avatar imagine #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #destined to be yin and yang

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muchlov3ashley · 1 day

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𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓣𝓸𝓸 𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓵~ (𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸’𝓼 𝓥𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷)

Au! Actor!Gojo x Singer!R

______________________

Yachting with Gojo is fun, but when any guy slightly tries to get close to you.. his blood boils? Wonder why? What are you to him?

Fluff! Smut! Angst! Fake-dating! Enemies to lovers! Drug use! She fell first he fell harder!

Previous chapter

______________________

𝓒𝓱3-𝒮𝒶𝓁𝓉 𝒜𝒾𝓇, 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝑜𝑜𝓇, 𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒..

Sarori come into the kitchen after showing you her fifth bathing suit she tried. You looked up from the counter. Nipping your finger skin a little with the knife you were using to cut fruit. Your started sucking on your finger due to the pain. Looking up observing Sarori.

“That’s the one!” You told Sarori. Sliding the fruit from the cutting board into a container. “Yuji’s gonna love it.” You teased winking at her. Her face became filled up with blush. “So uh what are you going to wear?”

You both walked to your room. You pointed to the 2 piece bikini on your bed One pink and blue. “Well I was thinking one of these.” You said while going to your night stand applying a bandaid on your cut. Sarori stepped a little close to observe them. “This one.” She pointed to the blue one. “I think gojo will like that one.” She teased back. Your face heated up, but you took her advice hoping a little that it’ll be true.

______________________

You parked at the parking space of the dock. Putting your beach bag on your shoulder holding the tinfoil container filled with mixed fruit. Peaking over to notice a pink haired boy. “Hey yuji.” Yelled Sarori. He waved towards you and hugged Sarori. Leading yall down a pathway to the dock.

Your face lit up amazed at how big the boat actually was. You stepped on the boat to see the familiar faces and some new ones. Greeting everyone near by. When Geto came up to you. “Nice to see you Y/N.” He hugged you in a friendly way. “Nice to see you too, I brought some fruit.” You said handing him the tray. “You didn’t have to Y/N-.” Suguru got cut off by another familiar voice. “But it’s very appreciated.” You felt a warm hand on your waist turning you around to face him. “Glad you came Y/N.” Said Gojo hugging you.“Oh. It was my pleasure thank you for inviting me.” You said a little hot from the blush rising up from Gojo being close to you. “You look very-.” Gojo said before being cut off by a buff guy with a man bun. “Gojoo go tell them to start the boat.” He nodded walking off. You pouted wanting to hear what he was going to say. Walking to sit by Sarori. Now chatting with the group around you.

______________________

The boat stopped Finally making it a shallow part of the ocean. Almost everyone got into the water beside a few people. You sat on the the the foot rest part of the boat dipping your toes in the water. With a notebook in your thigh brainstorming song ideas.

When a brown haired boy came to sit by you. “Hi nice to meet you, I’m Haibara, I haven’t seen you around here?.” He said. “Nice to meet you too, I’m Y/N, Gojo’s costar.” You said extending a hand, he shook it gently. From a distance Gojo had been watching with a scowl on his face. For some reason seeing you so close to another boy made his blood boil. He felt he had to do something show him you were with him. “You must be the pretty actress, singer Gojo had been mentioning.” You face heated at the thought of Gojo mentioning to others about you. Before you could say anything Haibara was pushed into the water. You reached over bending down, with a hand reaching out towards him to help him. Haibara declined looking behind to see Gojo giving him a “fuck off look”. “Oopsies. My bad it was an accident.” Said Gojo in a low tone. Peaking at your backside and your ass while you bend down. “Are you okay?” You asked Haibara. “Yeah, it all good accidents happen.” He said swimming off. Sarori started swimming towards you.

You sat back up. Elbowing Gojo’s stomach. “Was that really an accident.” You said to Gojo. “Ouch, I swear it was.” He said trying to hide a the pleasure in his voice. You just rolled your eyes. “Plus you’re gonna be dating me soon. So it’s best not to give any guy an idea.” He leaned towards your ear. “Maybe I should mark you that way everyone knows your mine.” He said softly. You started heating up from the comment.

But before you could reply. Sarori tapped on you leg. “Y/N come and get in water.” She said. “Mkay but come put sunscreen on my back.” You replied. Pulling out sunscreen from your bag to hand it to her. When a hand snatched it from you. “It okay Sarori I can do it.” Replied Gojo. You hesitated but didn’t wan’t to take away from Sarori time. You nodded. “I’ll be there In a second, Sarori.” You said. She nodded and swam off.

Gojo started applying it. Just like he imagined it you skin was soft and smooth. You bit you lip holding back gasps from the pleasure you felt from his warm and gentle hands. “Do you want me to put some on your back.” You asked a little a gasp escape. Gojo heard it and scared smirking feeling pleased with himself. “Mhm, yeah.” Replied Gojo. You scooted behind him. Applying the sunscreen rubbing it on his back in messaging motions. “Fuckk- right there Y/N.” He said. Your face heated up, a thousand of dirty thoughts running through your head. You started messaging in the same spot. “Here?” You asked . “Yes right there.” He groaned. “Uh, just tell my when to stop.” You said trying to brush off the dirty thoughts. “Mhm, that’s good you can stop.”. Realizing he might’ve made you uncomfortable. In reality he didn’t want stop. He wondered a little what else you could message so good. You also wanted the know the same but knew it was wrong.

______________________

He got up climbing down the stairs on the yacht into the water. You follow by a few seconds later. Swimming around. Now you were all by each other. “Let’s do chicken fighting.” Suggest Yuji. You saw people starting get on top of eachother. You would play just didn’t know who to ask because you’re new to the group. When suddenly you felt someone lift you up. “Is it fine if you’re partner.” Asked gojo. You were now on his shoulder. “Mhm sure.” You said quietly surprised. Gosh this man just can’t leave you be a moment without making you blush.

“Ready set go.” Announced Yuji. You weren’t normally a “try hard” but for some reason you felt competitive right now. And you ended up winning. Gojo lifted you up and everyone started clapping others teased you saying you two were cheating. During the time he lifted you up his hand accidentally slipped to your rear end. You gasped and he accidentally dropped you. You fell into the water. Rising up holding onto his shoulder as he held onto your waist. Coughing out water. He lifted you up onto the foot rest to sit. Climbing out off the water onto the yacht going to look for a water.

When hand appeared holding out a water. You thought it was gojo. “Thanks Satoru.” You said grabbing the water. “It’s Suguru.” You rubbed your eyes. They were still a little foggy. Oh. “Glad to see you two warming up to each other.” Said Suguru. “But Y/N you’re only warming up to him as a coworker right?” You sat there in silence not knowing what to the answer was. Because your heart liked him than that, more than a coworker. “Look Y/N you’re a bright and talented girl, right now Satoru will only get in the ways of your goals. As much as I want to see my best friend happy. He has a lot of issue going on with him. Deep down Satoru is an empty man, filling up the emptiness with luxuries, sex, and substances.”. You gulped. “You’re the type of girl who wants something serious, “live in the moment” and commitment. He isn’t, hes has a “live fast and die young” mindset , and commitment isn’t in his apart of that.” You felt you stomach ache. “But why?” You said in a shaky voice. Just as Geto was about to speak. you felt a towel wrapped around you.

______________________

“Are you good Y/N?” Asked Gojo. “Yeah I’m just cold.” Geto said goodbye leaving you two alone. Looking around to see no one. Feeling a vibration on your thigh. Looking down at your phone to see a text from Sarori and also-

[incoming Call] Dad 💕

[6:45] Sarori 🤍: I left with Yuji. I’ll be home soon tough :).

[5:30] Dad 💕: Hey Darling! I want you to meet my girlfriend. Just let me know when you’re available. ❤️

“Can’t I take this?” You asked Gojo, he nodded getting up. But only sitting in a nearby table, keeping watch on you. Answering the call.

“I’m good dad, look I can’t talk right now.” You muttered clutching your fist. “No it’s fine I’m happy you’re happy. I’ll call you later Kay?” You said a littler tear running down your cheek. Putting down your phone. Gojo reappearing sitting down by you.

“What wrong Y/N?” He said looking at you. You sighed “Nothing just something silly.” You replied fighting back the urge to burst. “I’m sure it’s not silly, you can tell me.” He said holding your chin, for you to face him. His eyes were bright, the pretty sunset hit his face perfectly, and he had assuring presence to him. You turned away looking at the waves of the ocean. Letting a few tears escape. “It’s just my dad, he has a girlfriend. It just reminded me of my mom. It’s been years since her ..” you paused for a moment tears now obviously streaming down your face. Gojo put a hand on your cheeks wiping away the tears. “Death, I’m just a little uncomfortable with my dad having a new partner. But I really do want him to be happy.” You said. Gojo put a hand on your hand moving his thumb back and forth.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I don’t know how to comfort you properly.” He pulled you into a hug. Your head on his chest feeling his pulse, somewhat fast?. “It’s fine can we just stay like this for a little more?” You said admiring the sunset. “Yeah of course.” He replied. Enjoying the peace for around 5 mins. When a notification went off on his phone. But you both just ignored it. Enjoying the peace. When another notification went off. You pulled back from the hug. Looking at the ocean lost in your thoughts. He grabbed his phone turning it on the silent button tossing it to the side.

He use his fingers to make you face him. “Feeling better, princess?” He said wiping any wetness off of your face. “Mhm, thank you.” You replied. “Satoru..” You said. “Yeah princess?” He said bitting his lip, he loved the way you said his name. “What did you wanna tell me later?” . “When?”Gojo replied. “Uh. You said you look very, but never finished what you were going to say.” He leaned into your ear. “I was going to tell you look very pretty, but right now I wanna tell you, you very look beautiful. Blue suits you very well, princess .” In your mind you thanked Sarori.

“You mean it? Or are you just teasing.” You asked. “How could I not?” Gojo replied. Fuck this man was gonna be the death of you, you thought. Sinking back into reality. This man was gonna be your coworker for atleast a year. It’s best to not give into that temptation. “I should go.” You said getting up. “No whyyy princess.” He groaned. “I have work tomorrow.” You lied. But he could see right through you. “Lairr tomorrow is Sunday, no one works on a Sundays. Cmon stay a little longer.” You wanted to agree, but remembered Suguru’s advice. “Sarori had an argument with Itadori, I wanna be there for her.” You lied. He could feel you were lieing but he just agreed. So he just nodded.

“Thank you for today Satoru, I had fun.” You said hugging him enjoying his warmth. “Goodnight princess glad you came.” He said hugging you back.

______________________

You walked back your car exhausted. Feeling a the a little throb in your chest. When you saw a figure leaning on a light pole at the parking lot smoking. “Suguru? What are you doing here?” You said leaning on your car. “I like smoking near the waves it’s calming.” He shrugged.

“I have a question.” You said. “Mhm what’s up?” Suguru replied lighting another cigarette. “Is there any chance he’ll .. commit? You know like atleast try?” “Can’t say for sure. Maybe some love with change that. And honestly you’re different, from what I’ve seen he’s never acted around some other girl like the way he does with you. when he looks at you his eyes a filled with pure happiness and affection.” You heated up at the way he described the way gojo looking towards you. feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“But look I still think it’s better off keeping boundaries, and staying purely as coworkers, in reality he does impulsive things, he’ll hurt before he can be hurt, especially after-.” Suguru paused feeling he said to much. “Especially after what Suguru?” You asked. “Well he was getting serious with a girl once, he wanted to give it a try. But she ended cheating on him… with his dad. After that he tried a few more relationships but he was either to over protective or he cheated on them.” He said in an unpleasant tone. “Please Y/N, just make the best decision.” Suguru said walking off.

______________________

𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸’𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥

He was back home alone.. leaving just him and his thoughts. He got into his shower, his bones ached a little. Letting the water drip on his body , just in his thoughts. And you were the only thing on his mind. The way you rejected staying with him a little longer, the way you messaged him, the way your plush soft thighs felt on his shoulders, your beautiful giggles, and that little gasp you let out while he applied lotion, the way your ass felt when he accidentally let one of his hands slip.

“Fuck.” He groaned. Seeing his member harden. Slowly but surely moving him hand down his body until he was holding it. Biting his lip. Giving his member long strokes and vigorous pumps use one of his thumb pressing on his throbbing tip leaking of precum. Thinking about your how you would jerk him off. Imagining your smaller hands moving up and down him, telling him he was so big. another long fast stroke. He found himself letting a loud moan of your name slipping out of his mouth. Eyes clenched shut as he relished in the feeling of release .. thinking of you and only you. He groaned, Cum spilling onto his shower tiles.

He finished cleaning up going into his room seeing his phone ring.

[incoming Call] Yuji

“What’s up?.” Said Gojo. “Look my girl left her purse, on the boat can I just pick it up real quick?” Asked Itadori. “Yeah go ahead I’ll just tell the boat crew, Sarori right?” Said Gojo using a towel to dry his hair. “Yeah duh..” replied Yuji. “Glad to know yall made up.” “Huh made up..? what do you mean?” Asked Yuji confused. “I thought yall had an argument.” Asked Gojo. “Huh no we didn’t. We were just chilling.” Replied Yuji. “Hmm must be thinking of the wrong person then. Anyways I told the boat captain, go ahead bye.”

Now he was confused was it a mistake? Or did you just flat out lie. Did he make you uncomfortable. Was he rude? Or .. Was there another guy, you were seeing.? “Fuck it.” He said grabbing his car keys, he needed an answer.

______________________

Ch4 Preview || Why did you lie to him? Pushing back your feelings for your costar is for the best right?

A/N || uhh sorry for yapping so much. And for the wait! Anyways bye! Gonna go start on ch4 :))

Please Repost and @ me . Like and follow so I know you’re liking the series! Feedback Too Very appreciated !

Love yall! 💋

Taglist || @sakui1 @sanriosatoru @gh0ulkz

Next Chapter!

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bluebelledmoon · 3 months

Text

"The Final Photoshoot"

gabriel agreste was soon found being strangled by a blue feathered boy after this was released

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months

Text

You Came, You Called || LN4

Summary: when strangers follow you from the nightclub there’s only one person you want to call.

Warnings: angst, threatening behaviour, fluff

WC: 2.4K

Lando stirred at the sound of his phone ringing on the bedside table. There were few people who could get past the ‘do not disturb’ setting that came into effect after midnight. With bleary eyes he reached for the phone and cringed at the bright light in his face but the sight of your name chased away his exhaustion.

It had been 162 days since you last spoke to him. It had been 162 days since he had ruined everything. He regretted his foolishness for every single one of those days and his stomach flipped at the thought of hearing your voice.

“Hey,” he answered, a flinch following as his voice cracked from lack of use while he slept. He quickly cleared it before trying again. “Hey.”

“Hey, baby.”

Alarm bells rang in his head and he sat up straight. Had you called the wrong man? That thought soured in his mouth.

“I’m on my way home.”

It wasn’t your unsteady voice he was focused on but the male voices that sounded far too close for his liking. “Aw, don’t call your boyfriend. We only want to talk.”

“Where are you?” Lando was already pulling on a pair of sweatpants and grabbing the first shirt he came across. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you whispered with a tremble in your tone. “I miss you.”

“Tell me where you are, sweetheart. I’m on my way.”

“Come on, gorgeous, it’s just a bit of fun,” a man called out and Lando saw red when he heard you choke back a sob. He knew the sound because he had been the reason for it before, and it had haunted him ever since. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“I’m heading towards Chocolat Boutique, please hurry.”

“I’m coming, sweetheart. I’m on my way.” Lando was already racing down to the garage and jumping in his McLaren. The engine roared loudly in the underground space before he tore out onto the street. “Keep talking to me, okay?”

The small store would have closed hours ago, but it was down the street from Jimmyz nightclub which was where you probably had been. He didn’t even know you were in town, and he didn’t have a right to know your whereabouts anymore.

“I’m scared, Lan.” The pain echoed around him as his phone connected to the car and played in surround sound.

“I know you are, but it’s going to be okay. I’m almost there, I promise.” He didn’t care about speeding tickets or running red lights. He flew through the narrow streets as he was forced to listen to the cat calls.

“I didn’t know who to call,” you admitted as you tried to walk faster but your heels hindered any escape. The three men were getting closer but they were in no hurry as they prowled both sides of the street to herd you along.

“You can always call me, love,” Lando swore, taking the last turn fast enough for the tires to squeal in protest. “And I’ll always answer.”

He found you on the footpath clutching your phone to your ear, hand cupped over the microphone as you spoke to him. Fear had widened your eyes and your normal stature cowered under the gaze of the men behind you.

Twisting the steering wheel, Lando skidded to a halt beside you and threw the door open. You had seen him angry before, when races don’t go his way, but this was beyond anger. Waves of rage rolled off him as you leapt into his arms, your trembling form finding itself molding perfectly back into his body. Two puzzle pieces slotting back together.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he soothed as he cradled the back of your head and glared over your shoulder. “You’re safe now.”

He might not have been the most imposing figure but you knew Lando was strong and regularly had boxing lessons for training. You had no doubt that if anything escalated he would use every lesson to protect you, but the cowards shrank back into the shadows of the shops.

“Let’s get you home.”

You were in such a state of shock that you didn’t see Lando wince at his mistake. You hadn’t called his apartment home for 162 days, not since you packed your bags and left. But right now you longed for that place where you had felt so safe and secure, tangled in his sheets and he curled his body around yours.

He opened the passenger door and reluctantly stepped out of your embrace to guide you into the seat. The doors locked as he started the engine and you exhaled a heavy breath of relief when the street was left behind.

Tearing your eyes away from the tinted window, you looked at Lando properly and saw his disheveled appearance. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“I’m not.” He took his eyes off the road for a second before reaching over to take your hand. “You’re freezing.”

He couldn’t tell if you were shaking because you were cold or if it was the adrenaline leading to shock. Dropping your hand he reached behind your seat to grab a hoodie that was always left in the car. The material was soft and smelled like him as you pulled on, inhaling deeply at the familiarity of the scent.

“I miss stealing these,” you whispered as you buried your cold hands into the front pocket.

Lando chuckled at the admission. He missed seeing his hoodies on you and asking if you knew where his favourite ones were. You would lie and he would smile at how terrible the attempt was.

“You can steal that one, if you want. I have too many now that they don’t mysteriously disappear.”

The car pulled into the garage and you found the space where your car used to park now filled with a pretty Lamborghini. A new sense of sadness hit that of course everything could be upgraded and replaced. “You can take me to my hotel. I wasn’t thinking clearly, you probably have company.”

His lips turned down at the thought and he shook his head. Lando understood why you would assume that, after all it was the reason you had left. What he had thought was harmless flirting had wrought destruction on his relationship with you. He knew he should’ve deleted the messages as soon as they were received but a moment of weakness when he was away from you led him to reply.

He betrayed your trust and he had regretted it ever since.

“There isn’t anyone,” he said as he parked. “There isn’t anyone ever, just to be clear.”

You mulled over his words as you stepped out of the car and accepted his hand, trading the warmth of the pocket for his palm. You kept hearing the insinuation echo with each step in the empty garage.

“Did you go out alone tonight?”

You shook your head. “Ana felt sick so she left. I should have gone with her.”

“So why did you stay?”

You weren’t ready to admit there was a slight hope you would see him so you just shrugged. It was Saturday night in Monaco and Jimmyz was the place to be - especially for a handsome, single man like Lando. You hadn’t wanted it to be this way though.

“I stopped going there after…a couple of months ago,” he said as he unlocked his door.

“Why? You loved that place.”

“I loved going with you,” he corrected. “I got to hold you and dance, show you off to everyone. When I went back, everyone just wanted to use me.”

You could imagine the women fawning over him and the men trying to be his next best friend. Sex or money, it was all they wanted from him.

“I’m sorry, Lan.”

“Lan,” he chuckled, following the light down the hall to his bedroom. The blanket was tossed aside and his charging cord was half hanging from the wall, a testament to how quickly he had left his bed to rescue you. “No one else calls me that anymore. It’s always Lando Norris, full name, so fucking weird. It’s Lando Norris getting out of his car. Oh, look, it’s Lando Norris scratching his nose.”

You laughed at his impersonation and sat at the edge of the bed. It was such an innocent thing but it brought back a million memories made in this room and he was seeing them all too as he stood frozen.

“Are you going to stand there all night, Lando Norris?”

His eyes traced your lips that mocked him before he shook his head of the thought that entered his head. Going to his wardrobe, he grabbed a loose shirt and tossed it to you before turning his back. “That’ll be more comfortable to sleep in than your dress.”

You laughed to yourself as he turned away, despite intimately knowing every inch of your body, until you found his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. His tortured eyes dared you to tell him to look away, but they begged you all the same. Maybe you were feeling grateful for the rescue, or maybe it was just an old habit that you held his gaze as you rose to your feet and let your dress fall to the floor with his hoodie.

His eyes darkened and he groaned, but the sound woke him up from his stupor. “I’ll go sleep on the couch.”

“Wait.” You took a step towards him as he stepped towards the door. “Please stay.”

He heard the fragility in your tone and the residual fear from the evening creeping back. He knew it was a bad idea but he couldn’t find the words to voice them as he gripped the door handle.

You watched his fingers release their tight hold before he nodded. “But please put the shirt on,” he pleaded as you tested his self restraint.

It was summer and the air still held warmth despite the early hour, but you dutifully pulled it over your head and climbed into the sheets. Lando waited until you were completely covered before he walked around to his side of the bed and curled up at the edge.

You both lay in silence, back to back, watching the shadows on the wall as the minutes ticked away. Lando was like a heat seeking missile and he was fighting an internal battle to keep from rolling over and curling his body around yours. You had always loved physical contact, it was comforting to be wrapped in his arms.

You knew he was awake and uncomfortable.

He knew you were awake and uncomfortable.

A few more minutes passed and you could no longer pretend he didn’t exist, or that you didn’t want the comfort he could give. “Lan?”

“Yeah?” His response was instant and you felt the bed shift as he rolled onto his back.

“Stop being weird and just cuddle me so we can get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You giggled and reached blindly for him. “I am already.”

Your hand found his arm and he shimmied across the space until it curled around your waist. His knees tucked behind yours and his breath warmed your neck as he whispered, “I’m sorry. For everything. I know you hate me, but-”

“I don’t,” you interjected, twisting your neck to look at him in the dim light. “I did, I really did. But I don’t anymore.”

“You should. I hurt you so bad. I deserve your hate.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and looked away as you admitted aloud what you had known for a while. “I can’t hate you, Lan, not when I still love you.”

Lando froze still behind you and you weren’t sure if he was even breathing. “You still love me?” Disbelief, wonder, hope - it was so saturated in that question.

“I thought something terrible was going to happen to me tonight so I called you in case it was the last time I could. I didn’t want ‘I hate you’ to be my last words to you.”

Lando’s gut clenched at the thought and his arms tightened around you, crushing your back to his chest. “I wish you called sooner, I would come day or night to get you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do,” he said sadly. “Every weekend for the past five months I wonder if you are out drinking and clubbing. I know it’s not my place, and I lost all right to know where you are, but I need to know you safe, sweetheart. It kills me to think that there might be someone else looking out for you, because that was my job. It should still be my job, to protect you, because I love you too. I never stopped loving you.”

You squirmed in his arms but they were too tight to move. “Lan, I need you to let go of me,” you murmured.

“I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t give up on us.”

“Lan.”

His breath was shaky but he released his tight grip on you, despite his desire to keep you close. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

He started to pull away but you finally had room to move and followed. “Lando! Come back, you muppet. I just wanted to see your face without breaking my neck,” you laughed.

He paused, a little from appearing between his brows. “Let go…oh…” His eyes lit up even in the dark room and he bundled you back into his arms. “Muppet is my word.”

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent. “I stole it too, like your hoodies.”

“I was a muppet so you can have it this time.” He pulled back so he could find your eyes. “Where does this leave us?”

“You broke my trust.” You felt him deflate at the words. “But when I needed you, you came.”

“You called.”

Your chest felt light with emotion those two words brought and you combed your fingers into his dark curls. “I don’t know where this leaves us but what I do know is that I really want you to kiss me.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Now? Are you sure? It might just be the adrena-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Lan.”

He didn’t need to be told a third time.

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n

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studioghibelli · 4 months

Text

always yours- a joel miller x reader

summary: joel has carried guilt with him his entire life, especially after losing you many years ago. you were young and naive, and joel was cold and distant, a match that simply wasn’t meant to be. (so he thought.) when he and ellie finally make it to wyoming, he’s in for the surprise of a lifetime.

warnings: joel pov for a bit, pining, so so much pining, ellie and joel dynamics, a lot of angst, various flashbacks throughout the story, guilt is one of the main themes of this piece of writing, a rather large age gap that is the center of joel’s guilt, a very brief mention of joel having sex with another woman (tess), post outbreak, and of course- smut. (allusion to m receiving oral, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, f receiving oral, some dirty talk.) mdni

The smell of pine swirled lazily in the air, the promise of a fresh snowstorm making its way through the tree line like the wafting scent of slow baking cookies. The white ground crunched beneath Joel’s leather boots, imprinting the shadow of their soles into the thick wintered earth. With each step his bones ached, shoulders heavy with the fate of the world.

Behind him, a figure trucked lazily behind, giggles occasionally filling his ears.

“What’re you up to back there?”

“Hey, hey. Check this one out, Joel. Why did the can crusher quit his job?” There was a long moment of silence. “Because it was….. soda pressing. Ha! Get it?” Ellie jogged closer to Joel, nudging him with her elbow. “Do you- do you get it, Joel?”

A heavy grunt escaped the man. “Yeah, I get it.” A tooth pick hung loosely from his lips as he glanced down at the girl, a slow roll of his eyes following.

“Want to hear some more?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Okay. Okay… that’s fine.” Ellie cleared her throat, humming as she took in the world around her. “I do have something on my mind. Something real heavy.”

Joel looked at her, his eyes glossed over with a hint of concern. “What is it?”

“Last week I….I-” Ellie paused, sniffling a bit, feigning a look of guilt. “Last week I called someone a watering hole, but I swear I meant well!”

Joel stopped, his jaw clenching momentarily before he met the gaze of Ellie who, in the midst of her terrible joke, was choking back a roar of laughter. He sighed out, shoulder slacking, before giving in to the chuckle stuck in his throat.

“Okay, okay. That wasn’t half bad, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re laughing! I made you laugh! I know you liked that one.”

“I did. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Joel shook his head with the hint of a grin teasing against his mouth. “Now quit with the shitty jokes, alright? You’ll miss the scenery.”

Ellie saluted him sternly, giving him a thick nod. “Aye, aye, Captain!” She declared.

Joel sucked in a thick breath.

You were staring at him, with your big, beautiful eyes, gnawing on a stale, unseasoned piece of venison jerky. The flickering flames of the campfire in front of you illuminated your face with glimmering sheens of orange, blanketing the hue of your skin with crimson and gold. A sunset, personified.

He stared at you, long and hard, analyzing every inch of you, taking in your beauty. He wanted to drown in it. The softness of you lips, the apples of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. Joel wondered how smooth your skin was, how the curve of your waist would feel against his calloused palms, how the heat of your breath would feel fanning against his throat. His eyes dragged down to your small hands, eyeing your manicured nails. What shape would they imprint upon his skin?

“Who the fuck made this shit, Joel?” You guffawed, rubbing your eye with your free fist. “I hate jerky. Tired of it!”

“Well, you’ve just never had good jerky. Before the end times, we had lots of good brands. Jack Link was pretty popular. Was my favorite.” Joel looked at you, a stray curl falling against his forehead as he set the paper bag down. “Ever heard of them?”

“No. Never. When…. all this happened, I was too young to remember. I’ve got no memories from that time, honestly.”

It was a simple statement. One that shouldn’t have made Joel’s stomach clench and turn. Yet it reminded him. It reminded him of his age, of your youth, your naïveté. His chest tightened with the deep feeling of wrongness, the bitter taste of guilt like bile in the back of his throat.

“Don’t, uh, don’t remind me.” Joel mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You, none the wiser to the war raging on in his mind, laughed sweetly, saluting him lazily as you finished the last of your venison jerky. “Aye, aye, captain!”

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

“Heyyyy!”

Joel’s neck snapped towards the noise, where Ellie stood still, leaning against the thick trunk of a pine tree. “Huh?”

“Dude, you were just standing there. Like a fuckin’ statue. You okay? I thought you were dying.”

Joel rubbed a scruffy cheek, the thick bristles of hair irritating his fingers as he stared into the distance, taking in a deep breath before resuming his walking. “I’m fine. Let’s jus’ keep goin’, onwards and upwards. Should be there in a day or so.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Ellie kicked a stray pebble in front of her, jogging every so often to meet the long strides of Joel.

In front of her, Joel was lost in deep thought.

He felt the ache of remorse tugging at his heart. A reminder it still worked. A reminder he was still human, still alive and breathing. A human, a man, who hoped and yearned and craved and cried. A man who loved. This remorse, this pain, this guilt, that had corroded away at his soul piece by piece, kept him stable and nailed to the ground. It was a nudge towards the idea that perhaps after all these years of killing, after the taste of blood and haze of destruction, perhaps his heart was still capable of something good, something right.

Joel thought he was right, when he did what he did. Even with the tsunami of tears threatening your eyes, even with the quivering of your lip, the tight furrow of your brows, the embarrassment on your face- even with the sheer look of pain and betrayal that you wore like a masquerade mask- Joel felt that what he did was for the best. That the line in the sand he carved with his own bare hands would help you in the end.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel warned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t look at me like that, girl.”

“Why?” There was a shrill crack to your syllables, a dejected figure emerging from the shadows of your mouth. “Does it make you feel bad? Am I hurting your feelings?”

“This is worse enough as is. I don’t need you flashin’ them puppy dog eyes at me. Ain’t gonna change a thing.”

“So you just used me. Fucked my mouth until you got what you wanted. And now what, Miller? Now what? Gonna ignore me? Gonna start doin’ runs with Tess again like there was nothing between us?” Venom dripped from your incisors as you took a step towards him. Your tears, your sadness, the heavy weight of your heart had been replaced with rage. Burning hot rage. It consumed you until it was oozing from you, spilling from your eyes, your mouth, your nostrils. It was you.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m goin’ to do. ‘Cause you’re right, kid. There wasn’t shit between us.”

Ellie’s humming brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any thoughts, before she broke the silence with a dreadful question:

“Did you ever have any girlfriends, back at the QZ in Boston?”

“Told you not to ask me any questions like that.”

“I know, I know. But it seems like things with you and…. with you and Tess were weird. I remember what she said, how she never asked you to feel what she felt.” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping ahold of the straps on her backpack. “But, you know, it got me thinking. If someone as cool as Tess liked an old fart like you, some other chicks would have had to, too. Right?”

Joel sighed a deep, tired sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Me and Tess…. we weren’t. We- just. No. Tess and I, there was nothing there.”

Ellie held her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Geez, no need to throw a bitch fit, asshole.”

“Watch it.” He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his rifle. “But there was one girl.”

“Really? What was she like? What was her name? What did she look like?”

“Slow down, Ellie, slow down. Way too many questions. I’ll answer one. One! So pick wisely.”

Ellie walked in silence for a moment, rubbing her cheeks in thought as though she had a beard. She nodded with a sense of finality, catching up with Joel’s long strides. “Why did you like her?”

Why did Joel like you? Why did he love you? What was so special about you that Joel, a man concrete in his stoicism, a man lost in his own selfish, distant ways, could crumble at the sheer thought of you? What was so special about your sparkling eyes that made his chest pound? What was so special about your soft voice that made his jaw slack? What was so special about your gentle touch that made his body shiver?

How could a giant such as Joel Miller come crashing down at the feet of someone like you? Someone so pure, so happy, so kind and thoughtful? How could Joel have ever let something like that happen? How could he have been such a fool?

“Hello? Earth to Joel.” Ellie waved her hand in front of Joel’s face, eliciting a groan.

“Um…” He scratched at his chin.

“When I was a little girl all I wanted, the one thing that mattered most to me in the world, was to go to the zoo. My momma used to tell me all these stories. How you could touch the stingrays, feed the giraffes… But you know what I want to see most of all? The gorillas.”

Joel was staring out the window, keeping watch as you shuffled through the drawers of the abandoned room, looking for extra stuff that could be worth smuggling. His eyes scanned the road, but he was mostly interested in listening to you. Quickly and slyly he turned to look at you.

He saw the glimmer glistening through your gaze, the smile lines crinkling ever so slightly at the corners of your eyes as your pretty lips turned up into a big grin. Your face was aglow with passion, your heart pinned proudly to your sleeve. You were the exact opposite of him when it came to that, it only drew him closer, like a moth to a flame.

“The zoo? I went to the zoo. Took my daughter all the time to the one in Austin. Never saw a gorilla though, not up close. Just on the Animal Planet.”

“Animal Planet?”

And there it was, that familiar twinge of guilt. “Yeah. It was a TV Channel.” Joel explained with a grimace, his voice soft and quiet. “You, uh, you find anything good yet?”

“Nah. Just a half empty box of condoms and some bandaids.”

“Condoms? We could use those.” Joel explained, turning to you quickly.

A look of surprise crept on to your face. You hoped you hid the butterflies erupting in your stomach well enough. Surely it was a slip of tongue, you thought- Joel was never forward like that.

Realization soon dawned on his face when his words finally settled in. “Not….. not us, I mean. For- for trading. Could get some ration cards. The, I mean- I would never be…. I- Uh.” A guttural noise of defeat escaped him as he slumped into the wall, groaning deeply against the palms of his hands that his face was now buried in. “Forget I said anything.” Joel seethed through gritted teeth.

“You sure do have a way with words, cowboy.” You teased. A beautiful laugh, one that haunted Joel, escaped your chest as you threw the box of condoms towards him. “There you go, lover boy.”

“Her laugh.” Joel finally broke the silence, his eyes secured to the track in front of him. “She was always laughing. Real happy, curious, always day dreaming. She was….”

“The exact opposite of you.” Ellie filled in, laughing to herself. “Man, she sounds great. And she liked you back?”

“I said one question a day.”

“But-”

“No buts. You can ask another one tomorrow.”

“Well, can you at least tell me her name?”

Before Joel could stop himself, the syllables of your name rolled from his tongue. He hadn’t spoken it out loud in years. He promised himself he wouldn’t, not after losing you. But it escaped him quicker than he could stop it, like a dog running from its cage, sniffing its way to freedom.

Ellie repeated it to herself. “That’s real pretty.” She hummed in approval, and Joel continued walking, his eyes stirring with the burning hot threat of tears.

Angry, regretful, bitter tears.

“Have you seen her anywhere?” Joel was pacing his room, frantically throwing supplies on to the bed. “Did she- did she say anything? Where she was going? What she was doing?”

“Joel.” Tess’ voice rang through the air. “Joel.”

“What? I need to get to her, God dammit.”

“She’s gone, Joel. Said she left four days ago. You won’t be able to find her.” Tess rested a hand on his shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking up at the disheveled, broken man before her.

“This is all my fault.” A single sob racked through his body as he fell down beside her. “Putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger would have been the exact same thing. She’ll die out there, Tess.” Joel buried his face in his hands as he fell back, jaw clenching in unison with his flaring nostrils as he sat and stewed in the crashing waves of resentment. “She’s going to die, and I won’t be there to protect her.”

Teas traced her hand down the broadness of Joel’s back, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Better move on now, we have work to do. If you’re going to get over it someday, you might as well do it now.” If there was one thing Tess wasn’t going to do, it was sugar coat things. Especially not for Joel fucking Miller. “So get up, stop crying, and do your fucking job. You got it?”

That night Joel drunkenly fucked Tess with her face in the pillow and ass in the air, and the whole time he imagined it was you.

Dusk was soon approaching by the time Joel had rolled out his and Ellie’s sleeping bags. The canvas of the sunset was being torn apart by sparkling stars, the moon illuminating the snow covered trees surrounding them. It was a quiet, peaceful night, shrouded with the sort of yearning and hope that only came once the sun set.

“Can we start a fire? Please, Joel?” Ellie was shivering beneath her sleeping bag, pulling her jacket tighter to her chest.

“Use my bag. I’ll take watch while you sleep.”

“We’ve been walking for like, a hundred hours. You need sleep too. Nobody will find us here. We’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.”

“You don’t know that. Now take my bag or stop whining.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he sat against the tree, the light of the lantern illuminating the hardness of his face.

“Okay, geez. Don’t have to be an asshole.”

“Go to sleep, Ellie.”

Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never liked sleeping, for many different reasons. The lack of control, the possibility of danger, the lurking nightmares about his past. But most of all, he hated sleeping because they brought him dreams of you.

In the beginning, when he had you, dreams of your body, or your face, of your voice- they were all welcomed. He would wake up in his mattress, bathing like a cat in the golden rays of sunshine, and would go about his day slightly less grumpy. Not a changed man, by any means, but how could a man be completely cold and detached after a visit from an angel?

But now these dreams were different. He would wake, not quite remembering them in their entirety, but always feeling the heavy burden of loss thick in his mouth, like phlegm during a nasty cold. For the rest of the day he would think of you, unable to shake the memory of your face away from his mind. You had branded him like a cow at the slaughterhouse.

Joel knew he was yours forever, always yours, despite the pitter pattering footsteps of guilt that followed him around like a needy child.

Tonight, he dreamed of his past memories with you.

“Oh, this is a good one.” Joel hummed out as he turned the record player up ever so slightly. “This is Nat King Cole. My mom used to play his stuff while she was cookin’.”

Sometimes I wonder how I spend the lonely night,

Dreaming of a song. The melody, haunts my reverie,

And I am once again with you, when our love was new.

“He’s got a nice voice.” You quipped. You swung your legs off the desk, walking towards him before extending your hand.

He looked at you like you were crazy. “What’re you doin’?”

“Dance with me.”

“Dancin’ is a dangerous game. I ain’t no good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. Come on. Just dance with me, cowboy!” Your giggles ignited the air with sparks of comfort, warming Joel’s body through with the familiar pang of affection he so often suffered from when he was around you. He thought on it for a moment before letting out a long sigh.

“Fine. But if you tell anyone about this I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Spank me? Come on, just live a little. If it was actually the end of the world none of us would be here. So be alive and human with me tonight, and dance.”

Joel stood, looking down at you as his hands found your body. He rested one palm against the small dip of your waist, his other finding your hand, quickly engulfing it, wrapping around your fingers like a blanket. You swayed, barely shuffling your feet, a smile of contentment washing across your face.

“See?” You hummed. “This is nice.”

He stayed silent, swaying with you to the crooning voice of Nat King Cole. Joel sucked in a sharp breath as your cheek rested against his chest. He ran his hand down to the small of your back, instinctively pulling you closer.

And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song,

Besides the garden wall when stars are bright,

You are in my arms, a paradise where roses grew

Though I dream in vain…

“Joel?” You whispered, craning your neck to look up at him.

His eyelids fluttered open, lips parting ever so softly as his eyes met yours. Chocolate irises, flashes of gold glittering within them, drunk every inch of your face up, memorizing you as thought it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Hmm?”

“Will you kiss me?” The question escaped you before you could think, your eyes slightly widening at the boldness which preceded you.

Joel stopped swaying. He looked down at you, a thumb slowly tracing across your cheekbone.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I- I wasn’t thinking.” Your face was hot with embarrassment, and your hand on his shoulder quickly dropped.

Joel remained quiet as he gently grabbed your fallen hand, moving it back to his shoulder, up towards his face, until you were cupping his cheek. “You really want me to?” He asked softly, curiously, his thumb gently running across your lower lip. You nodded without hesitation.

He leaned forward, the curve of his nose brushing against the tip of yours as he moved both of his hands to hold your face, eyes open and staring in to yours, as though he were trying to make his way through your soul. A stabbing breath hitched in the back of your throat as you gently pressed your body to his, lips mere centimeters away.

“Joel…” You whispered softly.

He paused right before your mouth, eyes now full of remorse, wide and guilty like a petulant child who had just been caught red handed. When he spoke, you felt his moustache tickle your cupid’s bow.

“I… I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Do you not like me?”

“That’s not the issue, darlin’. It’s the… opposite of that, actually. But I just- I… I gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow with some more ration cards.” Joel pulled away from your body, rushing to the door.

“Joel, wait. Joel!” But before you could stop him, he had already left. Your heard his footsteps soon disappear, left with nothing but the scratching vinyl.

In my heart, it will remain

My stardust melody

The memory of love’s refrain.

Joel awoke with a violent jerk, to the bitter smell of coffee and the bright warning of morning light.

“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Made you some coffee!” Ellie smiled at Joel as she dug her heels into the dying fire, handing Joel the metal cup of brown liquid.

“I told you no fires, Ellie. Someone could see us.”

“It’s fine. It’ll be okay. And if anyone comes and tries to hurt us, I’ll use my super slick Ninja skills I learned on ‘em! Promise! Now drink your nasty bean juice and let’s get going.” Ellie rolled up the sleeping bags as Joel stared into space, sipping his coffee before dumping the rest of it out.

“How long was I out for?”

Ellie shrugged, walking beside him as they made their way towards the open valley. “No clue. But you were muttering to yourself. Woke me up.”

“Was I? Mutterin’ what?”

Ellie looked at him, a small, sad smile playing on her mouth. When she said your name, his stomach turned. That beautiful name. That terrible, awful name that haunted him at every corner. It crept through his mind like a ghost, in and out of the hallway of his memories, refusing to ever leave.

“Weird.” Joel finally said, after a long, thick, uncomfortable silence. “Let’s…. let’s head out now.”

An hour or so had passed, hiking through the forest towards the open valley, before Ellie realized Joel had been whistling. She had never heard him whistle before. And, like always, her curiosity got the better of her.

“What is that?” She asked.

“What’s what?” Joel answered, looking around to try and pin down what she was talking about.

“The song you’re whistling. What is it? I like it.”

“Oh.” Joel hadn’t noticed he had been making any noise. “It’s called Stardust. An old song, before my time even.”

“Who’s it by?”

“There are a few renditions, I can’t remember who did it first. My favorite version was by Nat King Cole.” Joel explained, clearing a makeshift path through the jutting branches and scratching leaves.

“I’ve got my one question, you know.” Ellie stated with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “About her.”

“M’kay. Make it quick.” His voice grumbled out lowly like an over worked furnace, eyebrows tight together as he walked ahead of her.

“Where’d she go?” Ellie finally mustered up the courage to ask the question, slowly looking at Joel’s back. She noticed how it stiffened at the question, and for a moment she regretted ever asking anything.

But Joel’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What do you mean?” He finally choked out, clearing his throat.

“Like, if you liked her so bad, why isn’t she with us? You’ve protected me all this way. I-… I can’t imagine the lengths you would go for someone you actually liked.” Ellie joked, trying to lighten the air, the air which had suddenly grown so chewable, so thick and stuffy.

“I don’t hate you, kid.” Joel mumbled, rubbing at his face. “She, uh, she left. While I was out doin’ a run with Tess. Just up and vanished. No note, no nothin’.”

Ellie could feel the pain radiating from Joel, although she couldn’t quite pin point it in his words. He was good at hiding things like that. You don’t spend months with a person and not pick up their habits.

“How long ago was that?” She asked quietly, softly.

“‘Bout three years before I met you.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” Joel muttered. “Now, no more questions until tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Ellie grumbled, watching her feet as she walked.

“Joel!” His name tangled through the air, breathless and wanting. His ear was pressed to the door, hand on the door knob. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering.

Your legs were spread open, jeans halfway down your legs, panties to the side as your middle finger lazily rubbed circles in your clit, your free hand kneading against your exposed breast, chest flushed with the hot hand of want. No. Of need.

You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Slick curls pushed back, lips turned into a scowl, bulging arms chopping at the thick log of wood like it owed him something. You remember the rage swirling in his eyes, dark and angry, knitted brows tight and bold. Why was he so god damn hot when he was livid?

“Oh, God. Fuck.” Your whimpers filled his ears, well- his good ear, at least- and Joel felt his jeans beginning to tighten.

Something overtook Joel. Something primal, something instinctual, because before he had a chance to think, he was barging in to your room, mind empty with thoughts only of you, of your pleasure. You jumped with a squeal of surprise, face coated with embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to try and cover yourself up. It was a fruitless attempt, because Joel still saw exactly what he wanted to see. You.

“Joel! Oh God. Jesus Christ….. how-how much of that did you hear?” You wanted to cry. To deteriorate into a pile of rubble would have been your best option. Anything to not have to deal with his gaze. Stern, unreadable, dark. Your heart was slamming against your chest.

“I heard enough.” He whispered, slowly stepping towards you.

You blinked the forming tears of embarrassment away quickly, propping yourself up better on your elbows, finally garnering the courage to look up at him, right in his eyes. A long, deep, sensual gaze steaming from him.

Joel reached for you hesitantly, his hand gently grabbing your knee. A rough thumb traced circles into your skin, smooth and vanilla scented from the lotion he had smuggled for you on a particularly boring run. He watched the way your skin pricked with goosebumps, the way your leg leaned in to his touch. You wanted this. He knew, looking into your eyes, so soft and tender with desire, that he was the only thing on your mind.

“Please,” you whispered, voice shaking in the dimly lit room. “Please touch me, Joel.”

When he finally gathered the courage to lean forward, when those horrible thoughts of shame that so often plagued him had been pushed to the back of his mind, he heard Tess shouting his name in the distance.

When Joel saw Tommy for the first time in ages, he could barely contain himself. He embraced his little brother, tight and hard, feeling the familiar heat of tears welling in the pits of his eyes.

As dusk soon pulled across the sky, Tommy made sure to tell Joel which house would be his. “House 37! Two lefts and a right.” Tommy reminded him, as he jogged away to meet Maria.

It was only until he reached the movie theatre that Tommy realized he gave Joel the wrong number. Oh well, he thought to himself, Joel will figure it out.

The hot water cascaded down Joel’s back, steam dancing through the air, covering him in a warm blanket, the smell of vanilla body wash filling his nostrils. Vanilla. It reminded him so much of you. Of that night, the night he almost had a taste of you. You were so close, yet still managed to remain just out of reach.

Joel was so preoccupied with his thoughts of you, you, you, that he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs open.

• • •

It had been a particularly long and exhausting day for you. You had been posted a mile south in a rundown factory, keeping watch for Raiders as a group of workers focused their abilities on turning the old building into a new extension of your town.

Maria wanted to turn it in to a greenhouse and new horse stable. With the newest colt in town, Shimmer, she figured horse breeding could be a bright part of their future, and if it grew well and but enough, they could extend further out into the wilderness.

Well, that was Maria’s dream. But you had seen how slow these workers went about their business, how they often broke into fights and managed to forget their tasks entirely. How Maria had ever cultivated this place…. well, that was beyond you.

Your thoughts were full of Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

He was a hard worker. Persistent and tenacious, strong and able, stern and forthright- he was everything you wanted in a man. He was just like the knights you would read about, yet he had a twinge of anti-hero that always enticed you, always pulled you in closer.

Thinking about Joel was always draining. You missed his laugh, gritty and low and never that frequent. You missed his hands, well worked and scarred. You missed his eyes, deep and mysterious and full of something that you could never quite pin point.

After these long day dreams with him at the forefront, it left you craving a life you had never gotten to live with him, a life you had never known.

By the time you reached your house it was dark, and your feet ached from the long trek. You felt much older than you actually were. Taking your boots off, you noticed the hallway light upstairs was on.

“Weird.” You whispered to yourself, ultimately shrugging it off as you switched it off, walking to your room.

The door was shut. Double weird. You lived alone, and almost always forgot to shut your door.

The bathroom door was ajar, and you saw steam swirling out of it, yet the shower was off.

“Okay, what the fuck.” You hissed, reaching for your knife. You had already turned your gun in. Hand to hand combat…. well, that would have to do, even if it wasn’t your strong suit.

Behind the closed door of your master suite, you hear someone opening up drawers. “God dammit, Tommy!” You heard a muffled snarl, and your eyes widened.

You dropped the knife, clattering against the carpet with a faint cling, as you brought your hands to your head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be him. Surely not.

You rarely spoke to Tommy. You heard he had a brother named Joel here and there, but you never asked. Never gave any part of yourself away. To the people of Jackson City, you were quiet and reserved- kind, always- but haunted by something.

No, by someone.

Your hand was shaking. The metal door knob was cold on your palm, shivers coursing straight down your spine. With a quivering lip, you barely had time to turn the handle before the door flung open, thoughts of self defense and protection miles away.

A figure, huffing with annoyance, stood in front of you. A white shirt stretched taut against a broad chest, sweatpants hanging on a low waist, a bundle of dirty clothes resting in his arm. His arm. His familiar, tanned, muscular arm.

Joel.

Joel. Joel.

The syllable rolled around your brain, head empty as you gathered the courage to slowly look up at the man. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise as he stared at you. Both of you stood, in the midst of a proper western stand off, the air stagnant around your bodies.

Neither of you said a word. How could you? What was there to say? You blinked rapidly, rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to spook the apparition of Joel Miller away. Surely it was a ghost. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind. Perhaps the end of the world had caught up with you.

You went to speak, but a gargled mess of noises were all you could come up with.

Before you had a chance to correct yourself, he had scooped you up in to the tightest hug of your life.

Joel’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, pressing you close to his chest, while his right laid across your back, his large hand pressed into the back of your head. You grasped ahold of him, fingers digging into his skin as you tried to make sense of what was going on.

Before you could catch them, tears were flowing from your eyes, staining his shirt with a puddle of wimpy cries.

“Shh.” He cooed, voice shaking. “I’m right here. I’m here.” Joel held you as though you would vanish if he let go, slowly falling to the floor with you tightly pressed to him. He cradled you in his lap, strong arms secure and steadfast around your body. Joel wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

When you finally looked up, you saw his own cheeks west with the ghosts of previous tears.

“Oh.” You whimpered, touching his face gingerly. “I haven’t seen this face in so long. Look at you.”

“Look at you.” He countered, thumb tracing down the apple of your cheek. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”

“How… are you…. you’re the Joel Tommy mentioned? How could I have been so stupid.” You whispered, shaking your head.

“How long have you been here?”

“Two years. Managed to find a group of mercs, travelled with them to Kansas City before FEDRA got ahold of them. I was the only one to escape and, somehow, I found myself in this place.” You explained, his face now cupped in your hands.

His lips looked so tantalizing. The thing you wanted most in this world, right in this moment, was for Joel to kiss you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.

Joel looked down at you. He knew that look. Knew those emotions in your eyes, knew the way you looked when desire overtook your being.

He was so tired of being scared, so tired of the shame and guilt that followed him like smoke.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, taking a thick gulp.

You nodded slowly. “Kiss me.”

And he did. It was just as you had always imagined. Soft and sweet, deep and passionate. Your mouths molded together as though they were two puzzle pieces created for each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt…. perfect. The way you had dreamed it would.

You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, arms thrown around his neck as you beckoned him closer, his palms pressed firmly into your sides as he held you in place. You both knew you weren’t going anywhere.

You parted your lips as his hungry tongue swept against you, gently exploring your mouth, tasting your spit, the minty residue of your now thrown away gun mixing with his mouth. Joel groaned as you shuffled, and you felt the bulge in his sweatpants where his cock was getting harder and bigger.

You had seen his dick before. Once. When you both stumbled to your room drunk and you had given him a blowjob. The best blowjob of his life, as Joel remembered. He had held you by the hair, barely touching you except a gentle brush of his hand down your cheek after he had finished down your throat. You remembered how his eyes had engulfed you, how you watched as he seared the image of you on your knees into the recesses of his memory.

That was the closest you two had ever got, the farthest he had ever dared to go. And even then, it was selfish of him. He went to bed under the heavy blanket of ignominy, and he swore he would never do it again. He was drunk, Joel assured himself, it wasn’t like he….. loved you or anything. Right?

But now, with his tongue searching your throat and his hungry hands feeling their way around his skin, with the way your clothed bodies moved in harmony against the scratchy carpet of the hallway floor, what else could it be? Lust? No. Lust doesn’t last like this. It sizzles away at the prospect of someone new. No, no. You both knew what it was. Love. But you both too fearful to admit it.

“Joel.” You whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, the way it so sweetly rolled off your tongue.

“Yes?”

“Take me to bed.” Your words stuttered against themselves as you took in a heavy heave of breath. “Take me to bed… and make me yours.”

Joel swallowed the tight lump dangling at the back of his throat. He had two options. One, say no and push you away. Two, give in to his deepest desires and fall further into this love he had tried so hard to forget.

The last time he chose one, you ran half way across the country.

He was a smart man, Joel. He knew exactly which one to pick. No more would he run.

He scooped you up into his arms wordlessly, carrying you to your neatly made bed. Your hair splayed across the white pillows, your doe eyes staring up at him, full of yearning, full of want.

You watched with hawk-like eyes as he slid his shirt off, moving to do the same before Joel stopped you.

“No. I want to undress you myself.” You swallowed thickly at his command, nodding as your neck grew hot with desire.

When Joel was left with nothing but his boxers on, you drunk his image in. A small tuff of hair rested above the hem of his underwear. His belly was soft, and stray curls of hair dotted across his broad chest. His shoulders were strong, broad, welcoming.

You looked up into his face, eyelashes fluttering.

He had a few more wrinkles, a lot more gray in his hair. There were a few more scars etched into his skin, a darker tint to his eyes. He had aged. But so had you.

You had always liked your men older, anyways.

Joel Miller was the man of your fucking dreams, and he was standing nearly naked in front of you.

“Up.” He motioned for you to sit up and you did without hesitation. A smile crossed his mouth as he cupped your cheek. “So good for me.” Joel murmured, slowly peeling your shirt off.

“For you.” You whispered with finality.

He nodded, eyes twinkling with….. happiness. Joel worked the lace of the leather boots you wore, carefully pulling them off your feet before sliding his hands towards the zipper of your jeans. He watched your face as he slowly unbuttoned them, stripping them from your legs. He watched the way your lips parted with desire, the way your eyelids shut as the feeling of his hands grazing your skin.

“Look at you.” Joel whispered, and you met his steaming gaze. “So beautiful.” He learned forward, pressing a kiss to the hem of your underwear. “Lay back for me, honey.”

You did as you were told, shivering as his warm hands pried your legs apart. He stared at your clothed pussy, the patch of wetness showcasing your arousal. Joel chewed on his cheek as he drunk the image in, taking in a sharp breath as he discarded your underwear.

And there you finally were. Open and exposed, laid bare for him, and only him. Joel slid down on his stomach, inching his way towards your cunt as he reached forwards, using his thumb to slowly trace down your outer lips.

You shuddered, taking in a deep breath of as your hands snaked to his head, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching his finger slowly move. You saw him spread you open, you pink, wet pussy on display for his searing gaze.

“Ain’t that a sight.” He hummed out. “This all for me?” His voice was smug. He knew. And you knew he knew.

“All for you.” You admitted, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

“Bet you taste real nice, too.” Joel leaned forward, extending his tongue as he swept it flat across your clit. This made you whimper out, your grip on his hair tightening. “Just as I thought. Sweetest thing I ever had.”

Your head fell back onto the pillows as he wrapped this lips around your swelling clit, sucking softly at the button. He was holding back, his movements teasingly gentle. You were squirming for him, nails digging into his scalp, your breath begging for me.

Joel pulled back, much to your dismay, and rubbed his middle finger against your entrance. He slowly pushed it in, grunting quietly.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, honey. Can’t wait to feel you stretched against my cock.”

“Oh, God. Joel, please.” You murmured, watching as he resumed his tongue against your clit, swirling and flicking. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders, where you hadn’t even realized you had propped them up.

Joel chuckled against your pussy, savoring the sweetness of your arousal, letting it coat his tongue like sugar. He lapped at your clit, middle finger slowly hitting up against that spot, coaxing you closer towards an orgasm.

“If-if you don’t stop Joel, I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Babydoll, that’s what I want.” He responded smugly, sucking harder at your clit.

“B-but I want to cum on your cock. I-I’ll be too sensitive.” You explained, hips grinding as your fingers pulled at his curls even more.

“We’ll see about that.”

Joel added his ring finger into your pussy, pushing and pumping into you, wanton noises of filth filling your ears. You cried out his name, right on the brink of orgasm, as Joel continued his same movements, never daring to stray or pause.

“Joel. Joel! Oh, fuck. Joel. God dammit. Joel, I’m cumming!” You were sure the whole neighborhood could heard but you weren’t half fussed about that at the moment. All you knew was his mouth was drawing you in to the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.

Tears pricked your eyes as he rode out your climax, his mouth never leaving your clit. His fingers slowed down to a halt, yet his mouth never left your cunt.

You whimpered, trying to push him away from your sensitive pussy, but Joel didn’t let up. He grabbed your thighs, relishing in your moans as he made sure to lick up every drop of your cum, every inch of your wetness. He wanted the flavor of your pussy to be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life.

You collapsed onto the bed as he slowly pulled away, leaving a hot kiss to each thigh.

“Was that nice?” Joel asked smugly, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shut up, asshole.” You teased, a soft laugh escaping you. “Oh.” You murmured to yourself once you saw the bulge tenting at his boxers. You reached forward, gently grabbing it with your small hand. “Looks like we should do something about this.”

Joel hissed in a sharp breath of air, watching with intent as you tugged off his boxers. He kicked them off, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. He was thick, long, sexy- his cock could have been in a porn magazine, to be frank.

“Yeah, we should do somethin’ ‘bout this.” He had climbed on top of you, hands cupping your head as you glanced up at him with a tantalizing look stuck deep in your eyes.

“Yeah, we should. Fuck me, cowboy.” You whispered, resting your hands on his cheek. “Fuck me like you missed me.”

“I did miss you.” Joel admitted, almost shyly.

“I know.” You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a soft breath of air as he slowly began filling you up, allowing you the time to grow accustomed to the way he felt inside you.

“‘Course you do.” He snorted through gritted teeth, filling you completely up to the hilt.

You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you held him to your chest, smiling up at him softly. “Feels so good.”

Joel buried his face in your neck, slowly moving his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’…. so fuckin’ good for me. A god damned dream.” His words were hot, guttural, melding in to your skin like paint on a canvas.

You shuddered, dragging your nails down the length of his back, resting them on his ass. His movements grew harder, wilder, every inch of his throbbing cock deep within your walls.

“Christ, Joel.”

He groaned against you, propping himself up on his palms to watch your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned forward, lips pressing to yours in a burning kiss, igniting your body aflame.

“Love how you say my name.” He whispered as he pulled away from your mouth.

“Joel.” You mumbled, a teasing grin cascading on to your face:

With a smile of his own, Joel’s hand traced across your neck, down your shoulders, fingers tickling the skin of your arm before he reached your hand. Joel held it in his own, lacing your fingers tightly within his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

His thrusts were steadier now that your eyes were on each others, hand held tightly in his own as he took the feeling of you in. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way your body felt tight on his. He pulled away from you, sitting back a bit as he held your hips, fucking himself in to you.

“Touch your clit.” He ordered, eyes darkening. You swallowed, lowering your hand to your pussy, where you did as you were told. You shivered. “Rub it.” He whispered, voice soft.

You rubbed it, your middle finger circling your swollen clit tenderly.

“You’re going to cum one more time for me. Okay?”

You nodded obediently, gently placing your free hand on to his arm. “Okay.” Your voice was sweet, angelic. It made Joel’s cock twitch, an animalistic grunt soon following.

He looked on with hungry eyes as you played with your pussy, stretching it out for him. You both watched the way his cock filled you up, the way the lips of your pussy strained against him. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something so big could even possibly fit inside you.

You resumed your masturbation, fingering at your clit as he pumped in to you.

“That’s a good girl, rubbing your clit for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmured, eyes glossed over with desire.

“Gonna cum for you again.” You warned, hips bucking.

“Yeah? Cum on my cock, honey. Paint it with your pretty cum.”

That’s all it took to send you over the edge. Your back arched off the mattress as your second orgasm washed over you, vision blurring white. Joel grabbed ahold of you and pulled you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you, pumping up into you as you shivered and shuttered against him. You chanted his name like a mantra, crying out against him.

You were eye level now, and Joel has you by the jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I’m gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill this little pussy up.” He whispered, forehead resting against yours.

“Cum inside me.” You begged, hands moving to his shoulders as he fucked your body on to his cock.

Joel groaned, primal noises filtering out as his dick convulsed inside of you, his hot cum painting the inside of your cunt. You moaned at the feeling of being properly full, grinding against him gently as you sat on his lap, your arms holding each other close and tight.

When his orgasm had subsided and you both fell against the soft mattress, you were still entangled with one another, his dick still stuffed inside you.

You stared at one another as though you had never known anyone else, eyes searching, reaching for the soul, sparkling with love, swimming with adoration.

His fingers traced down your back, resting on your thigh as he brought you closer.

“I’m sorry I left.” You whispered, your hand resting on the side of his neck. “I… I didn’t know what to do with all of it.”

“All of what?” Joel asked, voice deep and quiet.

“All of the love I had for you.” You sniffled, nuzzling your cheek into his. “Have.” You corrected.

“Have?” A smirk was tugging at his voice.

You took in a deep breath, bravely nodding your head. “Have. I…. you know I do.”

Joel rested his head against yours, looking down at you. “I’ve always known.”

A moment of silence fell over your bodies.

“I don’t think it’s goin’ anywhere, either.”

“Good.” Joel whispered, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I want it. All of it. ‘Til the day I die.”

“It’s yours, Joel. Always yours.”

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saksukei · 8 months

Text

simon ‘ghost’ riley has a crush on you

masterlist | subtle things he does for you | simon my love

simon’s feelings hit him like a truck, as if he's a deer caught in the headlights. he only comes to realize it in the heat of the battle, chests heaving up and down as the two of you hide behind a wall for cover. you tell him to reload first and it's something so insignificant, so minute and yet it pieces things together for him. so he does what his first best. swallow the lump in his neck, ignore the swelling of his heart and focus on what’s next.

except

he sucks at it and boy is it evident.

it is so subtle though, subtle enough for it to slip under everyone’s radars including yours. except, captain price is no fool. he's known simon long enough to see the little change in his demeanor when you enter the room. how simon immediately sits up right, in his best posture, giving you a firm nod of acknowledgment.

how simon always looks your way, always. even when you’re not looking, he’ll still check what you're doing, where you are. it’s not intended to be creepy, it's just a form of reassurance that you’re alive, that you’re okay, that he has another chance to confess. (also the type to lean against the door frame and observe you)

what’s shocking is that even during his infamous cigarette breaks, he chooses to hang out with you. he adores the fact that it’s comfortable silence between the two of you. and more importantly, it contains the two best things he needs, silence and you. “what a view” he thinks to himself.

moreso, the lieutenant’s eye for detail is insane. simon is incredibly nuanced, he can notice when your mood is off, when you’re hurt, irritated or whatsoever. he tries to deal with the issue silently, like handing you a bottle of water, leaving a seat for you beside him, ensuring that he does most of the paper work and so on.

simon reacts at the speed of lightning if he notices you’re hurt or in range of fire. he remembers the one time he ran, grabbing you by the waist to make sure you don’t get shot. your small frame clinging against his, your body weight almost nothing to him and he felt lightheaded. he desperately wanted to keep you in his arms but he settles for asking, “you holdin’ up fine?” as he lets you out of his grip.

he enjoys bantering with you so much. such snide and snarky remarks all the time. from “what? can’t handle a little teasing from your superiors?” to “you know it's bad manners cussing behind your lieutenant’s back,” to “thought you were tough?” to “all that back talk, why don't you come and prove it?” he absolutely loves the reactions you give him.

moreso, when he begins getting more and more comfortable, he invites you eat lunch with him as opposed to with the rest of the soldiers. adores the fact that you both can converse without having eyes on the two of you. “plans for lunch?”

oh and of course, the most difficult moment of his life, when you reached forward on your tippy toes to fix his balaclava, simon thought he’d have a heart attack. took all of his strength to not lean forward and press a kiss to your forehead. “looking alright now?” he jokes, you can almost hear his smirk.

he hates the vulnerability, he does. but what he doesn't hate is the fact that it's you. it's you he’s being vulnerable with. and he repeats it to himself every night that you’re the best choice anyway.

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roosterr · 8 months

Note

hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲

if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3

the 141 when you have amnesia

note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3

wc: 2.8k

warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad

ao3

[part two]

price

✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.

✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.

✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.

✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.

✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.

✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.

✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.

✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.

✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.

✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.

✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.

✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.

✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.

✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.

✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.

✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."

✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.

✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"

✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.

✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."

✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.

✹ "been together for nearly seven years."

✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."

gaz

✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.

✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.

✹ he couldn't stand it.

✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.

✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.

✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.

✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"

✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.

✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.

✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.

✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.

✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.

✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.

✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.

✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.

✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"

✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"

✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.

✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.

✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"

✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"

✹ "please, i love you…"

soap

✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.

✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.

✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.

✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.

✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.

✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–

✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.

✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.

✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.

✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.

✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.

✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.

✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.

✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"

✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.

✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.

✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.

✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.

✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"

✹ "i'm sorry, i… i dont remember you…"

✹ nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.

✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.

✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.

✹ "why don't they remember me?"

✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.

✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.

✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.

✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."

ghost

✹ simon would be destroyed.

✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.

✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.

✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.

✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.

✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.

✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.

✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.

✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.

✹ "who… who are you?"

✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.

✹ no.

✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.

✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."

✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.

✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.

✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"

✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.

✹ you really did forget him.

✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.

✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.

✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.

✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.

✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.

✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.

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steddiealltheway · 9 months

Text

(So, idk if anyone has ordered or seen the Scoops Ahoy costumes from Amazon or whatever, but the shorts for Robin are tight and short. But the shorts for Steve are like the ones seen in the show. Which leads me to this thought…)

Steve’s first day at Scoops Ahoy is… alright?

Actually, it’s pretty miserable.

Scooping ice cream is way harder than it looks. And for some reason he can’t get that perfect rounded shape. It just comes out in pieces that he has to mash into cups and balance on top of cones.

Plus, he’s pretty sure his coworker hates him.

Her name is Robin, and she scowls and dramatically points at her name tag when he asks for it. To make matters worse, they apparently went to high school together, but he doesn’t have the vaguest memory of her. (To be fair, they did not run in the same social circles with her being in band and even theatre and with Steve being “King Steve.”)

But for some reason, she loves to poke fun at him especially when he fails to get any girl’s number. It’s like the Harrington charm radiates through his hair which is blocked by the stupid hat.

But what he really notices only an hour into their eight hour shift is the way she’s tugging at her shorts. She digs her fingers under the elastic band around her thighs as if trying to stretch them out, and she’s constantly trying to pull them down as they begin to ride up.

And really, Steve not trying to perv or anything, but she’s make quite a bit of a fuss with the whole thing, cursing under her breath and obviously really uncomfortable.

So, when the store is fairly empty, Steve turns to her and asks, “Do you want to change shorts with me?”

For the first time, Robin laughs. Loudly. She even snorts at the idea. But her laughter quickly dies down when she realizes Steve isn’t laughing. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah. You look uncomfortable. And hey, I’ve worn way worse to basketball practice, plus I had to wear speedos when I was on the swim team.”

Robin’s nose scrunches up. “Gross.”

Steve puts his hands on his hips and huffs, “Do you want to switch or not?”

She takes a few seconds to stare at Steve, clearly suspicious of an ulterior motive. But then, she curses and starts tugging at elastic band again. “Okay! Fine. But we’re not getting change in the same room.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he heads to the back room. “I wasn’t suggesting that.”

In the end, Steve is left to change in the damn freezer storage area while Robin gets the whole break room. But he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he sucks it up and doesn’t complain. (Although he really really wants to.)

He waits for her to knock on the door to signal she’s ready, looking down at the shorts. They’re not horrible, but he can understand why Robin was uncomfortable - as they’re already stretching over his ass and thighs while starting to ride up beyond mid thigh.

Even after she knocks, Steve asks, “Ready for me to come out?”

He thinks he hears her laugh about that for some reason before she answers, “Yeah!”

He steps into the room and glances down at her new shorts momentarily before nodding. “Better?”

Robin smiles slightly and nods before heading back out to the main area.

Steve follows behind her. “Hey, they gave me two pairs of these. I can give you the extra pair to wear and keep during our next shift together.”

Robin turns to him and narrows her eyes. “What are you asking for in return?”

“Nothing,” Steve says, eyebrows furrowed. He hopes she understands that he really means it and won’t hold this over her head like an asshole.

She just stares at him for a few seconds before almost wondrously saying, “Huh.”

Luckily, she seems to relax for the first time since their shift started.

After this, the teasing from before has less of an edge to it, but it becomes relentless. Steve almost thinks that maybe this is the start of a wonderful friendship. But Robin would never want that from him.

He only changes his mind about this later when Eddie Munson walks into the store while Steve is cleaning the tables. He accidentally knocks over a napkin and bends over to pick it up, feeling his shorts ride up.

When he stands up, he’s met with a pink faced Munson who stares at him - or rather his ass - with wide eyes.

“See something you want to sample?” Steve asks honestly a bit against his will because it’s part of the Scoops Ahoy greeting. (Only for some reason, he’s unable to get any other part of the greeting out.)

Eddie’s pink face turns red as his eyes snap up to Steve’s. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he quickly breathes out, “I need to leave.”

When the boy practically runs out the store, Steve naturally glances over his shoulder at Robin, trying to gauge if she just saw what he did.

She’s already laughing behind the counter saying between bouts of laughter, “See something you want to sample?”

Steve huffs and feels a blush rise to his cheeks. “Shut up,” he mumbles out, throwing the napkin away before returning behind the counter. “I’m never asking that again.”

But as Robin continues to laugh, Steve can’t help but join in a little, wondering if maybe she would like to be friends and if Eddie will ever come back.

So, maybe his first day wasn’t pretty miserable or just alright. Maybe it was perfect.

#platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #scoops ahoy #brief steddie #<- never have I used that tag before #eddie munson

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girasollake · 4 months

Note

Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.

She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date

Thank youuu!

✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧

(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x

told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it

i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.

‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’

‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’

¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.

‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.

‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’

‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.

SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’

You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.

‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.

‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’

Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.

You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.

‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.

‘Of course.’ You smiled.

‘I have a question.’

‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘

‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’

‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’

‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.

Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.

‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.

‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.

‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’

‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.

‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.

‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.

‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’

‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.

‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.

His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.

He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’

You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.

‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’

‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.

‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’

The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.

He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.

He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.

‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.

‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.

‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’

‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.

‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.

You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’

‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.

Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.

‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.

He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.

‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.

His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.

‘I lied.’ You mumbled.

‘What?’

‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’

‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’

‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’

‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’

‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’

‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

@ girasollake 2024

#imagine #x reader #🤍 - girasollake writing event ☾ ⋆*#theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott smut #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x fem!reader

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lovifie · 3 months

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 4: Midnight Snack

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.5K words

Warning/Notes: Soap x Reader, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, messy make out

This is the video from where the photo is, if you haven't seen it, You have to and if you have already, you are welcome.

The drive back to base seems neverending.

Once Price and Ghost managed to get you to stop crying and to breathe normally. The three of you pack the essentials, and by that, I mean you were hugged to Ghost like a koala while Price got what he could save from your house into a bag pack.

Most of your clothes were ripped or cut, so in the end, only some pieces of underwear, a couple of shirts, some pants and the pyjamas you were wearing were safe. Plus your jacket and shoes that were behind the door.

And that is how you found yourself now. Sobbing, sitting in the middle of the back seat, bag pack on your lap, Simon’s hand on your knee from the passenger seat as Price drives.

“Tomorrow morning, you are going to call your job, and tell them that you are going to take a couple of days off, okay?” Price asks looking at you through the rearview mirror. “And we will take everything you need, we will buy clothes, find you a better place to stay, anything you need.”

You shake your head feeling the tears come back and you hide your face behind your hands as you start to cry again. “I can't.” You cry. “What can't you do?” Simon asks turning his head to look at you.

“Miss more work days, I have already taken too many. I can't afford to lose more.” You mumble whining out of mental exhaustion.

“Hey, stop. Don't get carried away, alright?” Simon says rubbing your thigh. “Let's not think about that right now, tomorrow tell your boss the situation. Tell them that your house was broken into, that you need a couple of days to get everything in order. Depending on what your boss says, we'll work from there. Alright, birdie?”

You nod weakly as you focus on taking deep breaths. When you finally arrive, both men get out of the car and Price opens the door for you. You step out still holding your bag tight, either men try to take it from your hands and walk along between both men.

Their hands find their way to your back, Price to the bottom and Simon to the top, reassuring shielding you from the chilly breeze of the night.

“How about a cuppa?” Simon asks looking at you, a smile visible in his eyes, and you can't help it but to give him a weak smile back nodding. “Then, we will find you a room so you can sleep as much as you want.”

Sleep does sound amazing, taking into consideration that last night you had little sleep and you have been on the move ever since.

Price and Simon walk you to a lousy room, many recruits sitting together. The mess hall, you figure. In the middle of the room, there are a couple of sofas, and you quickly recognise Soap and Gaz, sprawled together in one of them looking at Gaz's phone.

Most of the soldiers that are finishing their dinner, or just enjoying each other company before going to bed look up when they hear the door opening. Their gazes linger for a second too long on you until you can feel Ghost throwing them a warning sign in the form of a look and they peel their eyes away.

Gaz and Soap look up when they hear the door open, and just for a second, they smile at you before they furrow their browns when they see everyone's expression.

“What happened? How come the wee lass so spooked?” Soap asks sitting straight and patting the seat between him and Kyle.

Price’s hand on your lower back softly pushes you forward to sit down before he answers: “She’s still a bit in shock, Soap. We’ll talk about it later.”

You sit down between Soap and Gaz, backpack still in your hands, and pull your knees up hugging your legs. Gaz points to your backpack and asks: “You sleeping over tonight? You should definitely sleep in Soap’s and my room. Ghost and Price have their own individual ones, but they snore.” He whispers the last part pulling a little smile from you.

You lean your head on Soap's shoulder when he lays his arm on the couch behind your back. The man is a living furnace and shortly after you find yourself seeking more contact.

Price sits on the second sofa in front of you and just a second later Ghost appears back, cup of tea on hand, as he gives it to you. You take it from his hands, yours still shaking just a little bit as you do, and you rest it on top of your knee for support.

Kyle's hand find its way to your other knee giving it a light squeeze. “How's your arm, luv?” You look at your elbow and shrug your shoulder. “I haven't even had time to check it, good I think, it hasn't bothered me.”

“You didn't get hurt today, did you?” Price asks focusing on your face after doing a quick check-up of you. You shake your head: “No, a headbutt on the ceiling if anything.”

Price nods, satisfied with your answer and shakes his head at the sergeant's questioning look. You look down to the tea, thoughts getting to you. You saw your neighbour get arrested, and if he had gotten free they would have told you. So it must have been someone who works for them, and if he wasn't arrested already is because they didn't really know who works for them.

“What are you thinking about, birdie?” Ghost brings you back to reality with just a question. “Am I safe here?” You ask, with a shake in your voice.

“Yes.” Price's answer is concise, full of trust in his own word, leaving no room for doubt. “As long as you are with us, nothing and nobody is getting to you.”

You look at his face, almost as if expecting him to burst laughing at you for trusting them. A voice in your head screams at you not to do it, you barely know them. But you thought you knew your neighbour and now he's trying to kill you, so.

You nod and take a sip of the tea. Warming you inside and letting you relax just a bit.

“How about a distraction?” Soap asks smiling at you. “Have we told ye aboot the time Gaz fell from a helo and was hangin’ from a rope like a yo-yo?”

“Fucking hell, Johnny. Shut up!” Gaz complains laughing next to you.

The time went a bit more smoothly when Soap decided to talk about everyone's embarrassing stories, you could still tell he wasn't telling everything, keeping the classified information for himself, but still telling enough to have you laughing, gasping and asking with interest as he told.

By the time you finished your tea, you were already in a greater mood, the attack from today moved to the back of your head. Price lends you a hand to help you stand up while Ghost takes the empty cup from you. Gaz and Soap keep their word to share the room for the night against Price and Ghost's complaint that they should let you rest alone. Until the words “I don't really want to be alone.” leave your mouth and that's the end of the bickering.

Soap and Gaz barracks are quite simple, two single beds against opposite walls, two desks, two little bookshelves and two closets. Almost as if there was a mirror in the middle of the room if it wasn't for the little trinkets and details on each side letting you know the right bed was Soap's and the one on the left was Gaz's.

After a quick rock, paper, scissor championship, it is decided you will be sharing Soap's bed. And since you are already in your pyjamas, you get inside the bed quickly, ready to be done with the day. Soap lays behind you, hugging your middle and dropping a kiss to your temple. “Sleep tight, bonnie.”

A ray of light erupts from the bathroom door that is practically closed, almost as if whoever closed was afraid the click of the door closing would wake you up. At first, you don't think most of it, Soap must have gotten up to pee. But then you listen, and it doesn't sound like that's what he is doing in the bathroom.

Little grunts can be heard as well as the sound of skin hitting skin. You stand up from the bed, curiosity taking control of your body and walking you to peak at the door. You shouldn't, you really shouldn't. But once you lay your eyes on him, you know you are fucked.

Soap is barechested, leaning against the sink with a hand supporting him while the other strokes his dick. He has his eyes closed, head low with his mouth open slightly, and small grunts and whines leave his lips.

The grey sweatpants slightly lowered, allowing you to see the curve of his lower back as well as what you trust is the girthiest dick you have ever laid your eyes onto. The tip looks red, hungry for release, pearls of precum dripping from it making your mouth water.

There is a turmoil of thoughts in your head, you keep repeating to yourself that you need to place some distance between yourself and these men. But the moment any of them show any skin or any emotion of want towards you, you throw yourself at them.

Three times have you gone through this, your mind telling you is a bad idea and your pussy pushing you at their arms. This time is not different, and before you know it, you are inside the bathroom locking the door making Soap jump.

“Steamin’ jesus, bonnie.” He says shoving his dick inside his pants and turning his back at you to hide his tent. “Knock before entering, lass.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, not feeling sorry and you slowly walk to him. “I just wanted to help…”

“What? What you me-” He gets cut mid-question when he feels your hand grazing his tip, pressing your chest to his back and surrounding his waist with your arm. You use a hand to feel his abdomen and the other to softly caress the length of his dick inside his pants.

“But I can go back to bed if you don't want…” You say looking at the back of his head. “Don't you dare.” He answers grabbing your wrist when you try to take it back and he looks at you over his shoulder.

“Ye dinnae have to do it if ye dinnae want… but if you want, I'll take anythin’ ye throw at me, bonnie.” He says turning around and cupping your face after lowering his pants again to free his erection. “I had to run to the bathroom cause ye were rubbing yer arse against me on yer sleep, I was about to explode.”

“Well then, I think it's only fair I fix it, right?” You ask looking at him cheekly. He leans down and kisses you smiling into the kiss. Little groans slide into your mouth as you stroke him and you can feel his hips thrust softly into your hand as well.

For the last two days these men have only but given to you, and as much as you have enjoyed every single second of it, it is about time you give back.

You pick Soap's hand from your cheek and push it up to your hair. “Make sure to keep my hair away from my face, all right?”

He looks at you confused but quickly gets the idea when you kneel before him. He quickly brushes your hair back with his finger, doing a ponytail at the back of your head and groans deeply when you give a kitty lick to his tip.

You pop his tip inside your mouth sucking softly as you circle it with your tongue. Stroke the rest with both your hands, unable to reach your thumb with your index because of the girth and slowly bobbing your head up and down.

Soap stays mumbling curse words under his breath, low enough to not be able to hear him and you wish you were not hiding in the bathroom and could hear him scream. You think back to when Price ate you out, did he get as turn-on satisfying you as you are getting doing it to Soap?

He opens his eyes to lock into yours and you look up to him through your lashes as you start to get more inside your mouth.

“Fokin’ hell, bonnie. Keep looking at me like that and I'm not gonna last a second.” He says struggling to keep his eyes open.

You chuckle inside your head, and keep getting closer and closer to his hipbone. You must praise Soap's self-commitment to not cum, even though you can feel the grip on your hair getting tighter. When you feel his pubes brush against your nose you pull back taking a breath and look at him. When you lock eyes with each other, you smile and say before opening your mouth: “Fuck my throat, Johnny.”

For a second you get scared that Soap will just cum as you speak when you physically see the shudder that goes through him. But then he grips your hair back making you look up to him and he kisses your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Spit, drool and precum all mixing between your tongues and when he draws back to talk a threat of spit connect your lips. “You are going to fucking kill me, lass.” He mumbles and stands up to full height.

He doesn't let go of your hair and when you stick your tongue out he slaps it with his cock. “Gonna fuck yer throat raw, bonnie. Bite if it gets too much.” He smirks before shoving his dick down your throat in a single thrust and beginning to fulfil his word.

“Fuck, bonnie.” He says slurring his words between moans. “Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking lass, so, so good, fuck.”

Your visions get blurry with the tears from fighting your gag reflex, your hands rest on Soap's thighs and you can feel them flex with each thrust. If it wasn't for your pants you know you would be literally dripping on the floor, never did you though it could turn you on this much. But seeing Soap becoming such a mess, not being even able to speak, just mumbles and curses leaving his mouth.

“Let me cum inside, bonnie, please. I wanna see you drink it, please, please, bonnie, please.” He begs looking at your face with a pained expression, and almost as if he was waiting for your answer when you slightly nod he grunts and you feel his spent travel down your throat. He stays like that for another second and finally pulls out, you open your mouth showing him your work and he smiles as he bends down to kiss you again. “Fucking beautiful, love.”

The next morning you are woken up by an alarm and just a second later a door slamming shut. “I call dibs on the bathroom!” Kyle shouts making you jump.

You turn around on Soap's arms, nuzzling your face on his chest and sighing satisfied. “Eejit” Soap mumbles with his chin resting on top of your head.

“Do we have to share the bathroom the three of us?” You ask against his chest.

“Ye didnae seem to mind sharing it with me last night.” He mumbles back and you feel his chest tumble with a laugh.

“Aw, shut up, Johnny.” You say chuckling and yawning. “What time is it, anyway? I feel like I slept just two hours.”

“0540, not too far off to be honest.” He answers and when your half-sleep brain processes what time it is you look at him as if he has just insulted you. “What?”

“Why the fuck are we up before 6 in the morning? Like, seriously, the fuck?” You ask grumpy as you sit up pulling your legs over Soap's torso. He caresses one of your calves and flexes his arm resting his head on his hand. If you were not so bothered to be awakened so early, you would admire his physique.

“This is the military, love.” He says smiling. “Ye look like an angry kitty.”

You pull the pillow from under his head and hit him with it making him laugh. “Do we need to be ready before six?”

“Yeah, actually, that's when we are supposed to have breakfast. We are meeting Lt. and Price there.” He says taking the pillow from his face. “Ye should get dressed.”

You groan standing up and picking your bag from the side of the bed. You pull your clothes out, and notice that you can barely form a full outfit; you sigh and sit on the floor looking at Soap who is now on his side, elbow on the bed and head resting on his hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and says: “That's all ye packed, lassie? I thought ye were staying more time.”

He stands up, walks to his closet and picks something from inside just to throw it to your head. An uf sound leaves your throat and you pick it up to see it, it is a sweatshirt with MacTavish written on the back. “It is cold this early in the morning, we don't want ye freezing up. Get dressed.”

He bends down to drop a kiss on your lips leaving you a bit stunned and enters the bathroom without knocking making Gaz protest from the inside. “Stop screaming, it's me. I'm just giving the wee lass some privacy, Gaz.”

You chuckle to yourself and quickly get dressed, putting on the only pair of jeans you have, and a weird t-shirt from some kind of ad you used to wear to sleep, feeling really grateful it is covered with Soap's sweatshirt.

“What are you doing here, luv?” Price asks standing up when he sees you enter the mess hall following Soap and Gaz. “Everything alright?”

The expression on your face must be portrait-worth because you can see even Simon's eyes twirl with a smile.

“What do you mean what I'm doing here?” You ask looking at Price, until you hear a little snickering coming from both Gaz and Soap and you finally put two and two together. You turn to Soap and when you finally make eye contact with him, he burst out laughing.

“I'm sorry, bonnie. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to waste it.” He says raising his hand in false innocence. He tries to side-hug you, but you move quickly raising your chin offended and walking up to Price. “I'll fetch ye breakfast as a peace offering, all right, love?”

“That's the minimum you can do!” You exclaim still offended and stick your tongue out to him as you sit between where Ghost is sitting and where Price was sitting, him following you.

“Sorry about that, love.” Price says rubbing your tight. “I told them muppets to let you sleep in today. Did you at rest good?”

Gaz sits in front of you with a smirk, and you don't know if he knows, but you are sure that if he does he will snitch on you so stay on edge making sure not to break eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I did. The bed was surprisingly comforting, and Soap was a weighted blanket so.” You answer still looking at Gaz. You can feel Price's questioning look and Ghost's smirk.

“So Soap was comfortable?” Gaz asks smiling.

“Yeah, quite comfortable.” You answer.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

You don't know how, but he knows.

“Is that why you followed him to the bathroom when he went in the middle of the night?” He asks.

Fucking Garrick.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You respond looking at your nails.

“I'm talking about when you into the bathroom and helped-”

CLANK

Soap puts the tray of food in front of you just in time, cutting Gaz's claim and starts to enunciate the food he bought. “I got ye coffee cause it's obvious yer not a morning person, I brought ye toast, some fruits and a little cereal cause I didn't really know what ye wanted. And I bought ye chocolate pudding.” He says putting the little cup on your hands, giving you a kiss on your head. “For sucking my dick so good last night.”

Gaz bursts out laughing, happy that he didn't even need to tell anything, while Ghost chuckles under his breath and Price sighs rubbing his forehead.

“I think there is a conversation that we definitely need to have.” Price announces. “For everyone's sake.”

Hiii 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

Taglist:@pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3

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rad-batson · 1 year

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Headcanons of Tim and Damian’s Love/Hate/But-Mostly-Begrudging-Love Relationship (They’re My Babies)

They will take EVERY opportunity to be a little bitch to one another

Tim: “Don’t get too close to me. You probably have rabies.” Damian: *actually bites him*

Damian tripped Tim once, which started an all out prank war that lasted several months. It only ended when Bruce walked into a glue trap and couldn’t reach his phone to call for help. But he couldn’t figure out who put it there so they were both grounded. (It was Tim.)

Tim teaches Damian to finish his vine references when Bruce tells them they need to “bond.” They proceed to try and speak in exclusively vine references and TikTok sounds during patrol. Bruce benches them for his own sanity.

Damian: “I’m not touching you” *gets pushed down the stairs*

Tim: “I’m not in your room” *gets hit in the face with a book*

Tim calls Damian short even tho he’s only like two inches taller for quite a bit of time (and Damian never hears the end of it after Tim’s growth spurt)

Family Game Night could go in one of two ways: they’re opponents and spend the whole night one-upping each other OR they team up and wipe the floor with everyone else’s pieces

Damian: “Just trust me.” Tim: *remembering that one time Damian tried to kill him* “Okay.”

Tim: “Don’t ask questions.” Damian: *recalling the multiple genocidal Tim variants* “Whatever.”

During one Wayne Gala, they make up this game called Freestyle Checkers where they choose guests as their “pieces” then subtly manipulate them into walking to their opponent’s side of the ballroom without talking to someone from the other team or they’re out. No one can know that they’re part of a game or their opponent wins by default.

Bruce is proud of them at first for being more sociable during galas until he realizes what’s going on and immediately loses five years from his lifespan.

Both have attempted to fake their deaths to get out of the same school project

They’re both notorious for stalking people to get information instead of just…ya know…asking like a normal person. So they’re bound to team up one day.

Like maybe it’s Bruce’s birthday soon and both are like “No, I’m getting him the better present,” but then they run into each other in the vents trying to find out what he wants and they end up trading secrets. Just brotherly things

Tim: “I need you to follow this guy for me. I think he’s our culprit.” Damian: “I would rather die than take orders from you.” Tim: “I’ll buy you that fancy oil painting kit you want.” Damian: *already changing into his Robin gear* “Where is he?”

Tim makes Damian play the dumb, helpless kid in all of their covert operations, which pisses Damian off until he gets so good at it that he uses it to his advantage and annoys the hell out of Tim when they’re paired up for public appearances

“God, he’s so annoying.” “Yeah, totally.” “What the fuck did you say about my brother?”

Damian is the only person who can get Tim to actually sleep for once. No one knows how he does it, but the strongest theory so far is blackmail

Tim “I’m ignoring Bruce’s instructions because they failed the vibe check” Drake and Damian “I can totally do this mission that requires four people on my own” Wayne teaming up behind Bruce’s back and immediately getting into deep shit but somehow making it out alive with the bad guys behind bars.

During one of said missions, they thought they were going to die and said “I love you” to one another. After they survived, they silently agreed to never mention it again.

Damian gifts Tim a new board that he designed for his birthday. It took weeks. Tim cries

#tim drake #damian wayne #batfam #dc #dc robin #red robin #robin damian #batfamily #incorrect batfamily quotes #they love each other #dc universe #damian al ghul

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).

7k words, new-ish established relationship, lots of fluff between angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, reader calls him aaron mostly

༺༻

The security for Aaron's building is weird. Weird as in extensive, intimidating, and extremely intricate.

You'd really wanted to minimise his stress — the whole reason you're here is to bring him a forgotten sheet of paper that must've slipped out at your kitchen table from one of his case files because you don't want him to have to make up a new copy — but you're too scared to go in.

You pull your phone out reluctantly and dial in his number, eager to hear his voice even if the security detail a few feet away are freaking you out.

"Hotchner."

"Hi, handsome," you say softly.

There's a small pause. For a split-second a nightmare situation runs through your head, his low voice asking, Who is this?

"Hi, honey."

You beam so wide it aches, forcing a pleased little breath from your mouth.

"What do you need?" he asks.

"I'm outside of your building but I'm too afraid to come in. I'm not sure they'll let me. I need a badge, right?"

"You're outside."

You pick at the hem of your sweater, a loose thread marring your otherwise pretty outfit. You'll admit to dressing up unnecessarily to see him. Nice clothes, your most subtle perfume.

"I found something confidential this morning, a piece of paper. I didn't read it, I promise."

"You really shouldn't be here," he says.

Your smile abruptly drops. You press the phone closer to your face and wait, hoping he's not talking to you. When it's clear that he is you cringe, the silence pervasive and the most awkward it's ever been with him.

"Sorry." Your apology is quick, quiet. "I thought it would be easier for you. I didn't mean to… overstep."

"It's not that. It's busy. Would you hang on to it for me? Maybe I can come and get it tonight, bring dinner."

You love how he says it. It's not a question, not an assumption. And it's a relief. If he wants to see you on a night where you hadn't planned to get together, he can't be mad at you for being here.

"Yeah, please. If you want to."

"I want to. Okay?"

Not for confirmation, it's shorthand. You okay?

"Yeah. Okay. Have a good rest of your day, handsome."

"Bye."

You like to think you can hear the sound of his phone clicking shut, imagining him at his desk in one of his neat suits with a case file open in front of him. You're not sure on the specifics of his job but you know he looks good doing it, and you also know he's very, very busy. You don't take his clipped goodbye as anything but efficiency.

Maybe you should.

—

The next time Aaron inadvertently hurts your feelings is in person.

Compared to him, you wouldn't say you're an incredibly exciting character. Your day job is tame, your hobbies are invaried. You like to watch TV, see movies, you enjoy people-watching. When you hold that stuff up to his job, his profiling, and his hobbies (seriously, who likes triathlon?) you feel rather immature.

You know deep down that hobbies are hobbies and that your job doesn't define how special you are, but when you're with someone like Aaron who lives and breathes his profession it can play with your head.

"Is there something interesting about my shirt?" he asks, a murmur under the sound of the TV.

You look up from the hem of his nice button down and smile, a half-smile. You want it to be more genuine than it is. "Don't you already know?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can tell I'm…" You frown, dropping the starched material of his shirt from between your fingers. "I've given myself up, haven't I?"

"A little," he concedes sympathetically.

You huff your defeat and let your cheek fall into his chest. Nice to seek comfort from him, nicer for him to give it to you, his arm rising from behind your shoulders to hook around your neck.

"I'm not profiling you," he says, voice close to the top of your head, "I'm wondering what you're thinking."

You relax under his touch, his big hand settling in the curve of your neck. A semi-hug. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his front completely, your unhappy thoughts dissolving with any tension and leaving only a want to kiss his stupidly nice neck.

"It doesn't matter," you say.

"You sure?"

You lift your head from his chest. He has to lean back to meet your eyes and he does it unflinchingly, a bemused smile playing on his lips.

"I'm good. Better, if you would…"

"Yeah?" he asks quietly, leaning down, down.

You can't withstand his charms. He knows exactly how to get you, his smile and his eyes, his lashes kissing in the corners as they close.

He's imposing in the best way, a heavy presence that overwhelms you. All you can think about is the way he nudges his nose with yours to encourage your head back and the heat of his lips as they touch your own. His arm tightens behind your head.

You try to rise onto your knees, hands vying for his neck and his pitch dark hair. You're doubly pleased when you feel his mouth turning up into a smile, a mirror of your own.

"Slow down," he chides gently.

You're about to say something unlike yourself, something loud and brash. Speed up, Hotchner. You're hopped up on the giddiness that comes with being close to him. You're just about to say it when his phone rings.

He gives you a short, hard kiss.

"Hotchner."

You sit back in his lap, his hand sliding to the small of your back to keep you close as his face clouds with confusion. You attempt to climb off of him because you're not a sack of sugar — you're probably giving him numb thighs — but he won't let you.

"Garcia," he says eventually, "is this an emergency?" His tone makes it clear to you that whatever it is Garcia is saying, it's far from an emergency.

His hand climbs up, over your shoulder. You shudder as he tugs your earlobe, a mild and thoughtless gesture. You're so busy shivering you almost miss his playful eye roll.

"I haven't changed my mind. Yeah. Thanks for the invitation, but I'm perfectly happy where I am tonight."

Whatever Garcia says makes him laugh. If you weren't sitting as close to him as you are you wouldn't have heard it.

"Have fun. Bye," he says succinctly. He snaps his phone closed in one hand, the other dropping from your ear to your shoulder. It's heavy with a remorse you can't allow. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," you assure, tilting your head toward his hand and pretending to size him up. You don't know how to profile, but you're a good guess.

"You're not telling me something."

"No?" He blinks in surprise.

"No. You've been invited somewhere with your work friends, and you usually go. Why not tonight?"

"I think that's obvious."

"You don't have to flake on your friends for me, Aaron."

He smiles as you say his name. "Like I told Garcia, I am perfectly happy where I am."

You hide your face in his neck lest he see your doped up smile. "You have nice friends," you murmur, working your hands under the hem of his shirt.

"I think you'd love Garcia after the infinitial terror."

"I think I would too. She's good to you, after all. Makes me like her… Maybe one day we can all go out for drinks."

You don't have to be a profiler to feel the way he tenses.

"Yeah," he says. It sounds very much like Probably not.

That's a strumming hurt. Aaron is so nice, so so nice, and he treats you like you're gold dust. He does all the movie boyfriend stuff like flowers, silver earrings on your birthday (with tiny diamonds!), dinner reservations at dauntingly fancy restaurants. And he does stuff you didn't know men did, like calling you near every night to make sure you had a good day, and praising even your smallest achievements, and leaving notes in places he knows you'll find them on hard days. You don't know how he knows when days are hard, he just does.

You'd figured all of this stuff meant he must really like you, might even love you though he's yet to say it, and that's why his lack of enthusiasm stings.

Why doesn't he want you to meet his friends? He's obviously very proud of what they do at the BAU. They're not the issue.

It's you.

You cuddle him as a pit forms in your chest.

"You're tired?" he asks.

Funny how it's his comfort you crave when he's the one who's hurt your feelings. You're a little lopsided being upset with him, and you know if you tell him how you feel he'll try to make it up to you, but you're too afraid of the other alternative — a fight. Right now his arms are a sanctity you wouldn't trade for anything. You hope he feels the same.

You're not sure anymore.

"Yeah," you say roughly.

Your eyes burn as he pats your back. "Let's go to bed, honey."

You'll just… have to prove you're someone worth showing off.

—

Your plan, loosely titled 'Get Aaron Hotchner to Show Me Off,' is going about as well as you'd thought it would.

If Aaron doesn't want me to meet his friends there must be a reason. You've been thinking about it and it can't be a coincidence that he hadn't wanted you to return his paperwork a few weeks ago. That must've been something significant.

But what?

You start with your hair. Aaron has expressed a lovely and heaping handful of times that he thinks you have pretty hair. He plays with it often, usually when he's limp and tired from a long day. You've always taken care of it. Now you're going to the extreme — hair masks, hair appointments you can't afford, anything to make it look perfect.

It doesn't work toward the plan, though your boyfriend certainly notices.

"Your hair," is the very first thing he says when he sees you, stopping only in his smiling assessment to kiss your cheek in greeting.

"Is it okay?" you ask, turning your face to one side.

"More than okay. Do you want to go in?"

So it's kind of a bust. But that's okay, you weren't expecting to get a haircut and magically be invited to team dinners. You persevere, and eventually you forget the plan for the night when Aaron promises to show you how much he likes your new look with a hand at the small of your back.

Phase two, your clothes.

You dress as nicely as you can but you're no fashion guru and you can't afford an entirely new wardrobe. You get a bunch of magazines and look for fall staples. What's in this year, and how do you style it? You buy a couple of pieces that fit your budget and try to work around them.

Aaron's favourite are the new corduroy pants. They aren't a great fit.

"They're too tight," you lament, pulling the fabric from your thighs where they hug snugly. They're a desaturated sort of burgundy, not bright by any means but a good 'pop of colour'.

"I know," he says.

You gawp at him, and when he gets his fingers on the buttons afterward, you break.

"You like them?" you ask worriedly.

"What makes you think I don't?"

"Besides how eager you are to get them off of me?"

He hooks two fingers in your belt loops and holds your gaze as he tugs them down. "I like them."

A good time, but still no dice. You suppose a new look, besides looking smarter, doesn't actually prove your merit as a girlfriend. Maybe he wants something a little more concrete before he introduces you to people. Maybe things aren't as good for him as they are for you, and he doesn't see the point.

That particular thought sparks a wave of panicked tears.

The next time you see him, it's like he can tell. You wonder if he has x-ray vision, some sixth sense for tear stains that he has yet to tell you about. He's been gone for a few days in St. Louis, and when he'd come back he'd spent the weekend with Jack, so it's a whole seven days since the last time you saw him and your worries have festered. Not even his doting phone calls had kept the thought at bay.

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend.

You open your door and there he is in a quarter zip with an overnight bag, matte suit cover draped over one arm.

"Hi," you say, unsure.

"Did I get uglier while I was away?" he asks seriously.

You startle. "No, of course not."

He smiles and meets you in the doorway, your head dipping back to accommodate. "I think I've had it too good," he says lightly, bringing a tentative hand to your cheek. "Are you okay?"

You're trying to work out what he means, and when you do your heart skips. "Handsome!" you say urgently. "Hi, handsome. No, you didn't get uglier, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, and-"

He kisses you. It's malaligned because of your parted lips, but it's good. You'd really missed him.

"You're definitely still handsome," you murmur.

"Doesn't count. I begged for it-"

"No!" you deny, lifting on tiptoes to give him another kiss and stop his slander. "It does count because you're always handsome, I promise. I think I slept too much and miswired my brain when I woke up."

"I don't mind that you didn't call me handsome," he says firmly, "now let me in. We have dinner to make."

"Right, sorry."

Aaron frowns at you, then. It's weird. He frowns at his phone, at the TV, at nothing, but he doesn't frown at you.

"Is something wrong?" he asks as you traverse down the hall. You hold your hands out for his suit and bag to take to your room and hang up, ignoring his question. He doesn't give them to you. "Is there?"

"No." You smile as you say it.

You're an awful liar, especially with him. He makes you more nervous than anyone because he's your boyfriend and because he's a literal human lie detector.

"You didn't even try."

You cover your face with both hands and groan dramatically, spinning around and away from him. You don't want him to see how flustered you are.

"Don't make fun," you beg.

"You're embarrassed."

"Teach you that at the Bureau, do they?"

You stop in the doorway of the kitchen, distracted by your own racing thoughts when suddenly there are two long arms needling around your waist and pulling you backward. You gasp a laugh and squirm uselessly to escape.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly.

You tip your head back, hands falling from your face in surprise. "What for, handsome?"

His laugh fans out over your face but when he speaks again there's no humour there, only sincerity, "For being gone so long."

"Well don't be. You can't exactly help it, Agent Hotchner," you hum.

"Oh, don't."

"Going out and saving the world takes time. I knew that when I met you, 'n I know it now. You don't have to say sorry."

"I'm not apologising for my work. I'm apologising that we've," — his nose presses into the highest point of your cheek — "been apart."

"I did miss you," you relent.

He presses his lips to your cheek. "I missed you too."

It's a nice distraction. You'd missed one another, and now you're together. You forget for a while what you'd worried, and only when he leaves again do you remember.

Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend.

You're not stupid enough to think Hotch is using you for anything, or that he's insincere. You're level-headed, though. His affection for you isn't necessarily permanent no matter how genuine.

You don't want to be overbearing. The offers start slow.

I can wash that for you. Of course I'm sure, I'm great with whites.

Maybe I could make you lunch tomorrow. You can take it in, spare yourself the federal cafeteria.

Yeah, I got them shined for you. They were looking a little dull at the toes.

"Do you want me to press these?" you ask.

Aaron looks up from where he's sitting in bed. You'd been out on a foray to the bathroom and have come to a stop by his bedroom door where a pair of black slacks hang in wait for the morning.

He pushes a darling pair of reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. "No."

"Are you sure? It won't take five minutes."

"I'll do it in the morning."

"I can do it for you, then. Just wake me up," you say, pushing back the sheets on the empty side of his bed. Your socked foot bumps his thigh as you pull up your legs. "What are you reading?"

He puts his book on the nightstand, takes off his glasses. It's too bad. He really suits them.

"I want to talk to you about something."

You laugh and slide down onto the flat of your back.

"What?" he asks, confused, the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes.

"It's unlike you to start that way. You always cut around the fat." You bring his bed sheets up to your nose and squint at him. "'M I in trouble?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"You know I care about you."

Your heart somersaults. That feels very much like a break-up opener, and he must see your anxiety on your face. He wrangles your hand from under the sheets and leans over you, his face in your eyeline, his fingers massaging yours until they ache in the good way.

"Do you know how much?" he asks.

"Is that a trick?"

"No."

You wait in case there's something he's going to add. When there's nothing, you pull the sheets to your chin and tamp down your perplexed pouting.

"Yeah, I know how much."

"I'd like to tell you how much." He pulls your joined hands toward his jaw. "I know I'm not always here, but I'm always thinking of you. In roundabout ways."

"What ways?" you ask. Self-indulgence.

Aaron Hotchner indulges you.

"I see," — he kisses your hand — "trees. I've seen a thousand trees, but when I see the bigger ones I wish you could see them too."

It's a dropping sensation, near uncomfortable, that's how gutted his confession makes you feel. "You do?"

"Sometimes women walk past me and I swear that it's you because they smell like your perfume. Flowers growing through cracks in the sidewalk. Lights through the jet window." It's the kind of stuff you like to point out to him when you're together.

He stares at you, a long, reassuring look.

He deserves a better reply, but all you can say is, "I think of you all the time, too."

"I love that you want to take care of me, but you don't need to wear yourself out."

You bite the inside of your bottom lip. So that's what this is about. Aaron has profiled you, and now he's being the gentleman that he is and assuaging your fears.

"I'm not," you say quickly.

He understands that you're saying I'm not wearing myself out rather than I'm not taking care of you. You are taking care of him, the best that you can, the best that he'll allow.

"I can press my own pants," he says, leaning down for a kiss. "I can shine my own shoes." He kisses you again. You screw your eyes closed as the warmth of his breath heats your cupid's bow. "I can do my own laundry." He pulls back, dropping your hand in favour of your neck. His thumb pushes against your windpipe gently, palm hot over your skin. "I'll accept the lunches, if you're sure you don't mind making them."

You feel as excited as you did the very first time he touched you, chest full of a dizzying pleasure, heart bump-bump-bumping a racing rhythm. His thumb strokes a lazy quarter circle into your neck. He can probably feel your pulse, see the way your eyes have blown.

"I love making them," you say, breathless in earnest.

"The team think I'm spoiled."

"You aren't spoiled." You're adored, you want to say. You cup his cheek instead. "You'd be spoiled if I brought them by everyday."

Aaron doesn't stay with you and you don't stay with him enough to make him lunch everyday. He might get one or two a week, and that's when he's home.

"Wouldn't that be nice," he mutters, his fingers pushing between your neck and the pillow underneath.

You hike up on to your elbows slowly to avoid headbutting him. "Well, I could."

His easy, loving smile flattens. "No."

"I wouldn't mind. My lunch break is super long and it only takes me ten minutes to get there. We could have lunch together."

"That's not going to work."

"Okay." You wish you could take it as calmly as he says it. You sound choked up. You are choked up.

"Sweetheart, the office is a war zone. Half the time I'm not there."

"I get it," you say, dropping flat onto your back again.

"Sweetheart."

"Handsome," you mirror, putting on your best unaffected smile.

You can't hold it very long, his concerned brows too much to deal with. You turn your head to the left and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, throwing at least half of your expression into darkness.

Aaron doesn't give up. Does he ever? He cups your cheek and pulls you back to face him.

"I can't promise any lunch dates. But I was thinking we'd go out for dinner next week, Friday," he begins hopefully, "somewhere nice."

It feels like an apology and you're desperate to take it.

"I don't need somewhere nice, s'long as you're there 'n not in Kansas, or Colorado, or Idaho, or New Jersey-"

He hums and drops his head until his nose lies against your own. "Gonna go through all fifty?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Hotchner?"

"I love your voice," he says agreeably.

Disarmed, you let him charm you, and you let him push it all out of your mind. Plan foiled, your fears fall on the backburner for a third time.

—

His fourth rejection is the first that feels entirely intentional, though you won't know until later.

Mostly because Aaron pushes you.

Far from cruel, the two of you are actually out walking in the city when he forces you into an alleyway, your fancy drink sloshing down the front of your sweater.

You laugh in surprise and almost roll your ankle, hands clinging to his coat to stop an unfortunate fall.

"Holy shit, Hotchner, learn to be a gentleman," you say as he presses up against you. "What are you doing? I'm soaked, you're gonna ruin your sleeves."

He kisses you hard. It's a surprise, your head jumping back against the wall to find his hand already there to protect it.

It's worth noting that Aaron is a sweetheart in practically every aspect of life. He once apologised after having walked in on you changing, which is ridiculous because most of the nights where you're together he insists on getting you some sort of undressed (even if it's just to help you into your pyjamas).

Needless to say, he's never kissed you like this. Your emotions spike so suddenly you laugh into his mouth, a girlish peel of giggles that you'll regret afterward but can't stop for the life of you.

He shushes you. "Sorry," he whispers, as ill-composed as you've ever heard him. "Sorry, just-" He cuts you both off with another bruising kiss.

Your laughter fades into sighs and little gasps for air. Somewhere near the alleyway opening a group of people pass by, a jovial series of cheers and friendly laughter trailing behind them. Aaron presses you further into the wall behind, and slowly, slowly winds down. Weirdly, you think his last couple of pecks feel sorry, softer and sweeter.

Your lips buzz.

"Why'd you buy me that fancy drink if you were gonna tip it all over me?" you ask good-naturedly when he finally pulls back.

"You looked too nice today." His deadpan voice wars with the smile on his face. "I'm sorry. We'll go find you something to change into."

"Was it really that important that you kiss me right then?" you ask, feigning disdain.

He looks out toward the main street again. "Yes. Where do you want to go? There's a Nordstrom."

You take a sip of your drink, unsurprised when he takes your hand and starts to lead you toward the department stores. "Have you ever been inside of a Nordstrom?"

"I'm sure I'll figure it out."

—

The fifth time is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Or the brick. It feels heavier than a strand of straw. It's technically already come to pass, so it's an invisible brick.

You're out for coffee by yourself which really means you're out for something sweet, bundled up in a coat and scarf to fight the night-time chill.

"Thank you," you tell the barista, accepting your drink and receipt with a smile.

You turn around and almost walk straight into a pretty dark-haired woman with really nice hair. You make a note to tell Aaron about it when you see him next, not because he'll care but because he likes to hear what you've been thinking about. And right now, all you can think about is her feathered bangs.

I want nice bangs, you think offhandedly.

"I'm sorry," you say, trying to move around her.

She steps into your path.

"Sorry," you say again.

She's squinting at you, thin eyebrows peeking out from behind her hair. "Sorry, have we met?" she asks.

You try not to be too hasty, but you're not sure you've ever seen her. You stare at her as she stares at you, and you get a tiny inkling of familiarity, but it's gone as quick as it comes.

"I'm really sorry, I don't think so," you murmur, tilting your head to one side.

She bites her lip, let's it go. "Oh!" she says excitedly, voice bright with triumph. "Oh oh oh! I know who you are, you're Hotch's mysterious girlfriend!"

Your smile turns quizzical. You know nearly everybody calls Aaron 'Hotch'. Whenever you try it he either gives you the silent treatment or covers your mouth with his hand.

"I'm Emily Prentiss, I work in the BAU," she explains rapidly, shoving her purse under her hand to offer it for a handshake.

You do the same and shake her hand. Introducing yourself feels awkward. She knows you. You don't have a clue who she is. Only-

"Oh, I know who you are now, I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" you say contritely. "I've seen photos of you and the team together. It's really nice to meet you."

She nods. "It's nice to meet you too. I have to say, we've been dying to meet you. We even have a betting pool on what you're like, because Hotch barely says a thing about you."

You try not to look as devastated as you feel, re-wrapping your fingers around your cup. "No?"

"We didn't even know what you looked like until we saw you the other day. We came looking to say hi and you'd disappeared."

You lick your dry lips. "The other day?"

"Yeah, last Friday. We were out for impromptu drinks, celebrating a case. You know, you should come with sometime. It would be fun."

Emily talks each word with an undertone of good humour. She's stunning, bubbly, and her hair flows around her face with every movement.

"He really doesn't talk about me?"

Emily drops into girl code niceties, backtracking. "I mean, not too often. We catch him smiling at his phone and hear your voice sometimes when you call. He seems happy. Well, happy as Hotch can seem." She swallows. "He's a private creature."

He doesn't talk about me.

You pretend to check your watch.

"It was really good to meet you," you say, voice airy with a feigned nonchalance.

"Yeah, of course. Super nice," Emily says.

You smile at her. It's more like a grimace. By the time you're outside of the coffee shop you're too upset to care, a humiliated shock of tears brewing behind your achy eyes.

You hold your cup to your chest and unzip your purse to tuck the receipt inside, trying to maintain some control. There's a folded note inside, thick cardstock quartered.

You take it out. Your fingers tremble with offended adrenaline.

You're beautiful.

Short, sweet, extremely Aaron Hotchner. Too bad you can't believe it.

Emily Prentiss being out and about means the BAU are done for the night, though whether your workaholic boyfriend got the memo is anyone's best guess. You're not sure if it's better or worse if he's in work when you call. You're so upset that you can't help yourself.

"Hi, honey."

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" you ask, staving off tears with all your willpower.

"I wouldn't write it if I didn't mean it. That one took you a while to find, I was-"

"Are you sure?"

"...Are you okay?"

You glare up at the dark sky rather than answer, blinking hard to force down your tears. You really don't wanna cry, but it's been a bad day and meeting Emily has made it worse. No matter how hard you try to think otherwise, all signs point to Aaron being ashamed of you. Embarrassed to be with you. He's hiding your relationship from everybody.

"Am I- Is it my clothes? My job?"

"What's wrong with your clothes?"

"You tell me, detective."

You're getting angry. He's- he's lying, or he's messing with you. He's making fun of you. At least that's how it feels.

"Where are you right now?" he asks. You can picture him shrugging on his suit jacket, putting his files in order to come and meet you.

You don't want to see him. "I'm at the coffee shop by your apartment. I actually ran into somebody, and I'm feeling very well-informed." A first tear bumps down your cheek. You ignore it.

"I don't understand."

"I don't understand! What am I doing wrong?" You bite your tongue in last ditch efforts to remain intact, but the tears won't hold off any longer. You swallow a sob. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Nothing, honey, nothing is wrong with you."

You wipe your wet face with mean hands.

"Stay where you are. I'll come and meet you."

"No. I don't wanna see you."

"Honey-"

"Leave me alone, Aaron."

You hang up. You walk for a while, feeling as though steam is rising off of your flushed skin with every clumsy step. It had been a short phone call and already you can't remember what you said, all you can feel is angry, and then that runs out and all you can do is cry.

You've never felt incredibly attractive. Aaron makes you feel better than that — he has the uncanny ability to inspire self-confidence with a loaded look alone. He can smile at you and your skin feels like it's glowing.

So why doesn't that translate? If he thinks you're so pretty, why does he insist on hiding you away?

Because that day, he'd seen his friends. He could've introduced you but he took you down the alley and kissed you so you wouldn't be seen. That's not too busy: That's secretive.

That kiss. You fooled yourself into thinking you must've looked irresistible. Fuck. You went home that night thinking you were the best thing since sliced bread.

"I'm so stupid," you mutter, sniffling.

Your self deprecation is muffled by the sound of a slowing car. You don't look up. There are two possibilities for who it is, and you don't want to deal with either.

The car parks and then you do look up. Despite how mad you are you're not suicidal, and Aaron's given you extensive coaching on sex trafficking.

It's him. Shocker.

You're half-expecting him to reprimand you. You didn't look up until I parked. You know it takes five seconds to snatch and incapacitate someone?

He looks haphazardly put together. Suit jacket on but tie loosened, he rounds the hood of his car and joins you on the sidewalk. You don't want to play games with him. He really doesn't need it, he didn't sign up for it, and drama isn't your style, but you're sick of this.

"You want to tell me what you're thinking?" he asks, standing an amicable two feet away, hands at his hips.

"I'm really mad."

"What else?"

"I'm thinking," you say, looking down at your cold hands, "that you… That you're…" You rub your cheek into your shoulder to hide a fresh tear. "I don't know, Aaron. I'm thinking lots of things."

"Do you want to think about them in the car?" he asks.

Do you want to talk about it?

You don't want to talk about it. You don't like crying in front of him on a good day.

You're pretty sure he'll combust on the spot if he knows you're walking home alone in the dark and distracted.

You get in the car. He has the good sense not to touch your shoulders like he normally would.

You buckle as soon as you've closed the passenger side door. "I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at your knees.

"Let's forget that, for now." He turns the key but doesn't pull out. "Tell me what's upset you and I'll explain."

"I met Emily Prentiss."

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye.

"She told me that you don't talk about me. Ever. That they didn't even know what I looked like."

You know he's listening but he keeps his eyes on the road, and you chance a look at the side of his face. He doesn't seem mad.

"I don't talk about you often," he says. "But that doesn't mean never… It's true that they didn't know what you look like."

"Until last week, when they saw us together and you pulled me into an alley so they couldn't see me."

"Yes."

Your lower lip trembles. "Do you see why that would upset me?" You're asking genuinely.

"Yeah, honey."

Your head jolts up. He's diverting his gaze from the road to you intermittently, offering up a regretful grimace. The oncoming headlights splash over his work worn face.

"Then why are you doing this? What's so wrong with me that you won't even admit we're together?"

"Nothing is wrong with you. I'm not ashamed of you," he says firmly, volume rising.

"Then why?"

His eyebrows pull together. "You're the best person I've ever met that isn't my son, and I selfishly don't want to share you yet. I also don't want to scare you off."

You pull your sleeves over your hands and turn in your seat, wiping your damp cheeks as he continues.

"My job is hard, and it's dangerous. It has jeopardised the safety and wellbeing of people I love before. So no, I'm not eager to introduce you to my world. The more intertwined with my life that you become, the more danger I put you in, and…" The car slows down again. He turns to look at you. "And I like that I'm the only one who knows you like this.

"I have been hiding you. I have. But it was a," — his tone turns wry — "misguided attempt at keeping you all to myself. Safe, and to myself."

You're finding it difficult to be mad with him.

He's finding it difficult to maintain his poker face. A fat tear rolls down your cheek and you're not sure what it's made of, fatigue or relief or plain hurt, whatever it is he doesn't like it. He pulls over.

You hold still as he pinches the tear off of your chin.

"How long have you felt like this?"

"Like what?" you ask wetly.

"Like this." He opens his hand against your cheek. It encompasses your face; you lean in, hungry for reassurance.

"I don't know."

"This is why you changed your hair. Your clothes. And started making my lunch."

You cover his hand with your own. "I actually really like making your lunches."

You stare at each other until suddenly you're laughing, sniffly, short of breath. Aaron joins in soon after. He always sounds so surprised to be laughing.

"I'm glad," he says when your laughter has abated, pinky and ring finger caressing down the slope of your cheek. "I really like having them. Rossi can't hide how jealous he is."

"They know about the lunches?"

His mindless petting pauses. "They know about the lunches. You're not a secret. I'm… selfish with the details. I'm selfish." Aaron takes back his hand. "I'm sorry."

You take as deep a breath as you can. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Mm. Can we go home?"

His eyebrows jump and swiftly smooth again. "Yeah, we can go home." He chucks your chin and gets the car moving again.

You watch him drive.

When you get home, he doesn't mind reassuring you some more. Actually, it's like he needs to do it. You'd love to say that it's overkill and that his low murmurings of praise are unnecessary, but you can't.

"You're lovely," he says seriously across two plates of pasta. Again through the mirror when you're brushing your teeth, and again when you've curled into his chest for the night. You're lovely. Nothing that needs hiding.

You hear him on the phone early in the morning, half asleep.

"Hey, Dave. Yeah. Okay. Uh… No, that's fine." He laughs under his breath. "Yeah, if she was awake I'd ask her to make you one. I think she would… Okay. See you in forty."

You bury your tired face into his pillows and beam.

—

Aaron's office is terrifyingly hectic. You can see already that the bullpen is full to bursting with agents, including but not limited to his special team of profilers. There's the distinct smell of coffee, sharp and burning, and then the underlay of printer ink, new paper.

You can't believe you're here.

You're not brave enough to introduce yourself to his team, and half aren't at their desks anyways. You hover in the doorway until somebody needs to get past you, taking a reluctant step inside.

You shouldn't wait for Aaron. You should be brave. You're a grown up, and you're bringing your grown up partner his very grown up lunch. You'd wanted desperately to do this. The least that you can do is do it by yourself.

You've scrapped most of the fall staples but kept the burgundy pants Aaron likes so much at his request. They feel insanely tight on your thighs, as does your collar. In fact, the room has definitely shrunk since you got here.

Like an idiot, Aaron says your name loud and clear, standing with a hand on the railings at the top of the instep. You hadn't even noticed him emerging from his office.

His voice demands — commands — attention. People turn in their seats, first toward him, and then toward you.

All eyes on me.

You don't run but you don't walk either, weaving through desk chairs and people looking a mix of busy and curious.

"You're being cruel," you say as you approach him, a brown paper bag held close to your abdomen.

"Hi, honey," he says. He wears a knowing smile, all dark and tall and handsome as he starts down the stairs to meet you.

"Don't punish me."

"Is that what you'd call this?" he asks, hand quick to clasp your shoulder, glueing you in place so he can kiss your forehead.

And yes, this is what you'd wanted. The doting boyfriend not just at home but at work, too.

That doesn't mean it isn't really, really embarrassing.

"Is everyone looking at me?" you murmur.

He slips his arm behind your shoulders to walk you up the stairs. "Yes." His voice drops lower. "At one place specifically, I imagine."

"What part is that, Agent?"

He laughs and opens his office door to beckon you inside. "Don't start."

༺༻

my first hotch fic omg. i did a big character study beforehand but i doubt it's entirely in character, hotch is a difficult character to write for! (and im only at season 4). but this was so fun and he's hot so it's worth it. if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging! i promise it makes a difference to me (and also i love seeing what people thought). thank you for reading!! ♥

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