#and „it wasn’t easy back then to have a relationship like this. it was complicated“

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Maybe pt. 12

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

Election Day is here and brings new complications for you and Norm.

Part 1 Here Part 6 Here Part 11 Here

Part 2 Here Part 7 Here

Part 3 Here Part 8 Here

Part 4 Here Part 9 Here

Part 5 Here Part 10 Here

You and Norm sat in the Vault 33 common area, surrounded by the buzz of activity that always accompanied election day. Red, white, and blue American flags adorned the walls, colorful posters adorned the walls, and the air was filled with a sense of civic duty and anticipation. It seemed like every corner of the vault was plastered with posters, each bearing the face and promises of two of the three candidates, Woody and Reg; Betty’s face notably missing among the sea of posters. Their slogans screamed for attention from every surface, vying for votes with promises of better food rations, more recreational time, enhanced security measures, and a better tomorrow. The room around you was loud with conversation, laughter, and the occasional debate as friends and neighbors discussed their choices as you and Norm settled in to people-watch. 

"Happy Election Day!" Chet proclaimed as he approached, his voice ringing with cheery and patriotic fervor. "Best day in the Vault, right?"

Norm piped up first, “I can think of a few better days.” 

“Well, obviously, it doesn’t compare to Christmas, but it’s a close second. Nothing more important than exercising our civic duties.”  

You smiled at Chet's enthusiasm but couldn’t help but share a different perspective. “It would be a little more interesting if we didn’t already know the outcome.” Convinced Betty Pearson would be elected Overseer once again. “You know, Chet, dissenting is actually the highest form of patriotism.” Wouldn’t that be a surreal sight? 

Chet’s face twisted in confusion. “Dissenting? What do you mean?”

Norm decided to chime in. “She means not voting.” He turned to you with a knowing look. “You know that would never happen.” He imagined if anyone in the Vault decided not to vote, they’d just round them up and encourage them to cast a ballot. 

Chet’s eyes widened, and he looked genuinely appalled. “Not voting? How can you say that? It’s our duty to vote, to make our voices heard!”

“See?” Norm remarked, a slight smirk on his face. “Absolutely no one would go for that.”

You shrugged, “A girl can dream.” Rising from the picnic table, you realized the time. “Alright, I better be off. Enjoy your day off, boys,” you said, kissing Norm goodbye and waving to Chet before walking off.

After you left, Chet turned to Norm with a curious expression. “So, things have evolved pretty quickly between you two, huh? Fill me in.”

Norm smiled, “Yeah, we’re officially an ‘item,’” confirming Chet’s suspicions. 

Chet grinned, clearly happy for his friend. “I’m not surprised. I had a feeling you had a thing for her long before you admitted it.”

Norm chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess it was pretty obvious, except to us.”

The conversation paused slightly, and Chet had something on his mind. He hesitated momentarily before finally asking, “So, have you two, you know?”

Norm raised an eyebrow, catching the implication. “Yeah, we have.” He decided against his better judgment to just entertain his cousin’s inquires. 

Chet nodded, his curiosity piqued. “How was it?”

“Definitely not sharing that,” Norm replied, shaking his head.

“That bad, huh?” Chet frowned, placing a consolatory hand on Norm’s shoulder. “Don’t worry; it gets better with practice.”

Norm laughed. “It wasn’t bad, far from it actually, but I’m not telling you the details of how I spent the night with my girlfriend.”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s what us guys do,” Chet said, playfully punching Norm’s shoulder. He then proceeded to fill Norm in on what happened with Stephanie before the two of them showed up at his doorstep for their expedition to Vault 32.

“See, too much information,” Norm gagged, referring to Chet's detailed account of the situation with Stephanie.

Chet laughed, suddenly remembering, “Oh, I’m supposed to meet Steph!”

Norm nodded. “That’s fine. I need to check in on something anyway.”

The two friends parted ways, and Norm used the bustle of election day as a cover to sneak back into his office terminal. Your earlier comment about the predictability of elections gave him something he wanted to check. The Vault 32 logs might have been off-limits, but he still had access to the ones in 33. Sitting down, Norm accessed the vault terminal and began searching the personnel records for those who had been transferred between vaults. He clicked on the names and started to notice a pattern.

Transferred from Vault 31, elected Overseer in Vault 33.

He saw it repeatedly. Each name he clicked. 

Transferred from Vault 31, elected Overseer in Vault 33.

Over and over, the same pattern emerged until he reached the present day. Hank MacLean. Transferred from Vault 31 and elected Overseer 2271-2297.

Norm leaned back, his heart racing as the realization sank in. If Betty Pearson won again, every elected Overseer would come from Vault 31; it would continue the unbroken chain of Vault 31 transfers, becoming Overseers in Vault 33. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. It was a running joke in Vault, voting for the member from 31, but for it to happen every election over 200 years of Vault 33 history seemed an impossibility. 

Norm’s mind raced with questions. Why was Vault 31 so influential in Vault 33’s leadership? What was the connection? And most importantly, what did this mean for the future of their vault? Determined to find answers, Norm knew he had to dig deeper. As he logged out of the terminal and prepared to leave, he knew one thing for certain: this election day was just the beginning.

_____________________________

Norm couldn’t wait until you got off work to share what he uncovered, so he headed straight to Steph’s place to share his unsettling discovery with his additional accomplice. When he arrived, he found Chet busy entertaining Steph’s newborn with a rattle, trying to keep the baby occupied while the single mom finished her shower. 

“You don’t think it’s weird we always elect an overseer from Vault 31?” Chet looked up, slightly distracted by the baby. “What do you mean?” “They did the same exact thing in Vault 32,” Norm explained.

 Steph’s singing drifted through the background, a gentle reminder of her presence amidst their conversation. Chet pondered Norm’s question. “Honestly, no. By all accounts, Vault 31 has more resources and a better education system, and you know they’ve got that phrase.” Norm knew it well and finished the sentence in a mocking tone. “When things look glum, vote 31.” 

“Shh,” Chet whispered, looking around like someone might overhear them. “It’s a powerful slogan.” 

Norm looked at him in disbelief. “You think 200 years of coincidence comes down to a slogan?” Chet shrugged. “I don’t know, Norm. It’s like asking why everyone prefers jello-cake to apple pie. I don’t know why; they just do.” 

“So if it’s not at all worrisome, why are we whispering?” Norm challenged. Chet sighed, “Because we just snuck into a vault filled with dead bodies. Not to mention Steph’s from 31.” 

As if on cue, Steph appeared, freshly showered and wrapped in her Vault bathrobe. She looked surprised to see Norm. “Oh, hello, Norman.”

 “Steph,” Norm nodded, “I was actually just heading out. We’ll pick this up later,” he said to Chet. “Sure,” Chet responded, giving Norm a nod. 

Norm stopped as he was about to press the door release and turned back to Steph. “Steph?”

 “Yes?”

 “How’s Vault 31 different from here?” She paused, thinking. “What did your dad tell you?” 

“Not much, actually. That’s why I’m asking.” 

She considered it again. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the mashed potatoes were a little better?”

 Norm sighed. “That is  what my dad used to say.”

 “Must be true then,” she said with a haunting smile. 

“It must be true,” Norm echoed, feeling the weight of her words as he left. 

As Norm walked back to his quarters, an announcement blared over the Vault system intercom. The microphone crackled, and Betty’s voice echoed through the loudspeakers. “Hello, Vault 33. In my first edict as Overseer, I will be hosting a Vault-wide meeting about the future of Vault 32 tomorrow at 10 am. See you there.” 

_______________

Norm’s thoughts raced as he continued his walk. He didn't get a chance to speak with you about his discovery; you had been stationed for an additional shift to perform maintenance on the Pip-Boy servers last night. Extra shifts were unusual for you, and Norm had a nagging suspicion that someone was keeping you there on purpose.

 He managed to catch up with you as you walked to the meeting Betty had called. You mouthed, “What do you think this is about?” as Norm approached. He shrugged, just as uncertain. “No idea.” 

Once everyone had gathered, Betty led the group toward Vault 32. They stopped in front of the newly cleared-out entryway. Betty began, “Thank you for coming, everyone. It is important for us all to see this place together—as a community, as a family—so that we can heal together and rebuild together.” 

Chet, standing close to Norm and you, leaned in nervously. “What is happening here?” he whispered to Norm. He wasn’t particularly keen on returning to the Vault filled with so much death and decay. Betty didn’t hear him and continued. “I spoke with the Overseer of Vault 31, and we agreed that these vaults of ours are too sacred to leave empty. Which is why I’m announcing a resettling campaign. Some of us will stay home to rebuild 33. Others will move into Vault 32 in the coming weeks to start anew.” 

With her remarks finished, she guided the group into Vault 32. The sight that greeted them was a complete 180 from what you, Norm, and Chet had seen a couple of days earlier. There were no decaying bodies, no blood on the walls, and all signs of neglect had been meticulously cleaned up. The atrium, which had been filled with the stench of death, now looked pristine, almost welcoming. Fresh coats of paint now adorned the walls, and if you didn’t know any better, you might be standing back in Vault 33. You couldn't believe the sight before you. It made you question what you had seen the other day. Was it real? Had your mind played tricks on you? 

You glanced at Norm, whose face mirrored your disbelief. Norm leaned in, whispering to you, “This doesn’t make sense. It’s like they scrubbed away everything overnight.” Chet looked around, still unnerved. “I don’t know, Norm.” The three of you tried your best to remain inconspicuous, but the more you walked around, the more difficult it became. 

As the members of 33 poured out to the hallways to examine the Vault, Betty continued her speech, oblivious to the trio’s whispered concerns. “Together, we will turn Vault 32 into a new beacon of hope, just as Vault 33 has been for us. This is our chance to build something better.” The crowd murmured in agreement, excited to begin the work, but you and Norm exchanged uneasy glances. Something was definitely not right. The eerie cleanliness of Vault 32 felt like a cover-up, a facade hiding the grim reality you had witnessed.

Norm separated from you and Chet, heading up to the Overseer’s office; as he arrived in the hallway, he noticed the stark difference from the scene they had encountered previously. There were no bodies hanging from the ceiling, and the office itself looked identical to his dad's, save for a Vault 32 flag hanging in place of the Vault 33 one. But there was one other major change that caught his eye: the overseer’s terminal, where he had found the information about his mom’s Pip-Boy, was now broken into pieces on the desk. This was a sign someone knew they had been there the other night; he was sure of it.

Norm leaned over, his hands propped up on the desk, eyes scanning the office, taking in the changes. He was startled when he felt hands on his shoulders and turned to see Betty standing behind him.

“Find anything interesting?” she asked, her voice calm but with an edge that made Norm's stomach knot.

Norm swallowed hard, trying to hide his unease. “Great job cleaning up,” he said, attempting to keep his tone casual.

Betty looked saddened, shaking her head. “The raiders destroyed so much. But not our spirits,” she finished triumphantly.

As she turned to leave, Norm called out, “Betty?”

She paused, turning back to face him. “Yes?”

“When my mother died, what happened to her Pip-Boy?”

Betty's expression softened. “It was buried with her.”

“How are you so sure?” Norm pressed, his voice barely steady.

She stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Because I buried her myself. Me and your father.” She gave him a gentle squeeze before turning to leave the room.

Just as Betty left, you caught up with Norm, noticing his distant expression. “Are you okay?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

Norm turned to you, forcing a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” But the doubt in his eyes betrayed his words.

_____________________________

You and Norm returned to his place, the tension between you palpable. Norm was eager to disclose the information he had found out, but as he watched you pace the floor of his living room, he began to second-guess his decision. You were visibly distressed about the possibility of being relocated to Vault 32, and Norm, for once, was trying to be the optimistic one. Maybe you didn’t need the added weight of Vault 31's secrets and Betty's seemingly thinly veiled threats right now.

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration evident on your face. “I can’t believe they expect us to just move to Vault 32 like it’s no big deal. After everything we saw in there…” You stopped pacing and looked at him, your eyes filled with uncertainty and fear. “What if they separate us?”

Norm bit his lip, struggling with his decision. He wanted to share everything with you, but he feared adding to your worries. “They can’t separate us. I won’t let that happen.”

You sighed and sank onto the couch, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "I can’t stand the thought of us being apart.”

Norm sat down beside you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Norm hesitated for a moment before deciding to hold off on the full truth for now. “It will be fine, I promise.”

#fallout tv series #norm maclean #norm maclean x oc #norm maclean x reader #fallout series #fallout #fallout amazon #vault tec

[lichtecht]

PART 22

of the dfk audiobook translation

@cnka

Narrator (audiobook): Uli gathers all his courage and steps in front of the assembled class.

Uli: „I want to say something!“ Uli: „I can't take this anymore! You all think I’m a loser. But I’m not! I’ll prove it to you tomorrow at 3 at the city wall. That I’m not a loser!“

The class mutters among each other. Uli jumps down from the desk and leaves.

The Externs walk past Uli's friends and yell another "Loser!" at them.

Narrator (audiobook): Meanwhile, Jo has checked her phone. She is shocked.

Jo: „They’ve deleted everything!“ Matze: „What, seriously?!“ Jo: „All of our work, our film! Everything we’ve shot, this- oh, I’ll kill these pigs. We need to take revenge, we need a plan!“ Martina: „Jo, I don’t know. What’s the point of that?“

Jo: „They have destroyed everything! Our entire film, everything we’ve worked on! You can’t be this indifferent to it.“ Martina: „I’m not indifferent to it. I just have more important things to do. I need to study.“

Jo: „Study? Are you really serious? Your only problem is if Bökh likes you!?“ Martina, yelling: „Boah, Jo, ey, you have no idea at all! Just shut the hell up for once!!“

Narrator (audiobook): Martina storms furiously out of the room. So does Jo shortly after.

Jo: „There’s really nothing but idiots here! Shitty jerkwater town!!“

[Note: this is the best translation of "scheiß Kuhkaff" I could find...]

Narrator (audiobook): A helpless Matze is left behind.

Matze: „So much for 'us Internals stick together'.“

SCENE CHANGE

[Note: I can translate the song lyrics if you want to.]

Narrator (audiobook): The next day. Matze walks into his room and meets his friend, who is about to leave with a helmet and climbing ropes.

Matze: „Hi, Uli.“

Narrator (audiobook): But Uli ignores Matze and gives him a bodycheck before he storms out of the room.

Narrator (audiobook): It’s not an easy time. Everyone seems to be fighting their own small battle. Not just the kids, but also Robert. The meeting with Justus has stirred him up a lot and torn open old wounds.

A montage of different characters while the song plays.

Martina lies on her bed with her school books and cries.

Robert is on a walk along the lake.

Matze plays with a little boxing toy and eats biscuits.

Narrator (audiobook): Jo seeks conversation with the Nichtraucher and knocks on the door of his wagon.

(knocking)

Jo: „Can I come in?“

Narrator (audiobook): Shortly after, Jo is playing on Robert‘s piano. He sits next to her and listens.

Jo plays the last chords of the song on the piano.

Jo: (sighs) Jo: „I feel like I don’t belong here.“ Jo: „Like, in Kirchberg.“

Jo: „I mean, they’re all little Spießers here.“ Nichtraucher: (chuckles quietly) Jo: „The Externs anyway…“ (sighs) „And the Internals are shit too.“ Nichtraucher: „Yeah?“ Jo: "Yeah, I mean, you’re better off on your own too after all. Don’t meet Bökh and stuff..." Nichtraucher: (heavy sigh)

Narrator (audiobook): Robert sits down on the couch and lights himself another cigarette.

Nichtraucher: (long sigh) Nichtraucher: „You know, Jo- life is like that sometimes. People disappear and then they’re just gone.“

Jo: „How? Something like that has a reason. Why did you never want to see each other again?“ Nichtraucher: (sighs.) „His mother was sick. Very sick. It wasn’t easy back then either, a friendship with an Internal. It was complicated.“

Silence.

Jo: „What happened?“

Silence.

Nichtraucher: „My wife died.“

Silence.

Jo: „Oh.“

Silence.

Nichtraucher, quietly: „Justus knew her as well. But he didn’t get in touch.“

Silence.

Nichtraucher, almost whispering: „Maybe he didn’t care.“

Music softly fades in.

Jo: „I don’t believe that.“

#dfk 2023 audiobook translation #das fliegende klassenzimmer #das fliegende klassenzimmer 2023 #dfk #this is also one of my favorite parts btw. #when the girlies break up :( #jo and the nichtraucher bonding time :) #and „it wasn’t easy back then to have a relationship like this. it was complicated“ #am i crazy or does that sound kind of. yknow. 🏳️‍🌈 #like #young girl goes to older queer mentor after her breakup and he tells her about his ex #am i completely making things up here or???? #mine #this montage is so funny to me. “everybody is fighting their own battles” matze: biscuit time 🤗🥯🍰🍪 #but truly that scene with jo and the nichtraucher is so beautiful #it also just looks very pretty #the nichtraucher wagon seems so cozy 10/10

[omgeto]

☆ ONE OF HIS GIRLS — TOJI FUSHIGURO

summary: you were used to your on again, off again routine with your ex. content in being just one of his girls. until things begin to shift and he starts to make you reconsider having a relationship... with all strings attached.

w/c: 3.9k

cw: afab!reader, angst to fluff, exes to fwb to lovers, tojis a bit of a meanie but you’re a meanie too and you both love each other for that. plot with a small dash of smut so mdni!

an: listen to the weeknds “one of the girls” to see the vision. hope you enjoy!

the bass thumps through the air, reverberating in sync with the pulse of the dimly lit club. bodies move in a synchronised chaos on the dance floor, lost in the music and the allure of the night. neon lights paint the room in shades of electric blue and vibrant pink, casting an otherworldly glow on the scene.

amid the crowd, you move with an easy grace, your body swaying to the rhythm as you dance. the atmosphere is charged, and you relish the freedom it offers, the way the music seems to wash away all your worries. tonight, the world belongs to you, and you intend to make the most of it.

but not far away, toji's gaze is fixed on you. his normally composed demeanour replaced with a simmering intensity. he watches as you interact with another guy, laughter shared, bodies drawing closer as you shamelessly grind your ass against him. his fingers clench around his drink, the glass nearly cracking under the pressure of his grip.

toji has always been good at controlling his emotions, an expert at keeping his feelings hidden beneath a mask of indifference. but tonight, seeing you with someone else, it's a different kind of test. the anger that bubbles within him is a stark reminder of the feelings he's been trying to suppress.

as the song changes, the stranger's hand slides lower on your waist, and toji sees red. he downs his drink in one gulp and pushes his way through the crowd, his jaw clenched and his heart pounding in his chest. he reaches you just as the guy's fingers brush against your hip, his presence looming over the scene.

“fuck off” he demands at the guy you were dancing with, towering over the both of you. the guy looks to you for guidance, hoping that you’ll tell toji to fuck himself. but you give the stranger an appreciative smile, knowing that there was no way you could get toji to back down.

“what the fuck was that?” you interrogate toji, as the stranger stalks off.

“what the fuck was that?” toji mocks with a sneer, “what the fuck was this,”  he gestures to your outfit, and throws his arm in the direction of the stranger you were dancing with.

“it’s called having fun toji,” you argue, confused at his outburst, “what are you even doing here anyways?” you’ve barely seen toji since you broke up, and whenever you did see him it wasn’t in public.

“don’t play dumb princess,” he scoffs,, “don’t act like you didn’t know that this was my spot, that you didn’t come here just so i could see you act like a slut,”

“toji i-” technically he wasn’t wrong, you knew this was where he spent most of his time, but he hadn’t even crossed your mind since you didn’t spend time with him, outside of your bedroom.

“i don't wanna hear it.” suddenly he was tugging on your arm, dragging you somewhere. he was pissed. you could tell by the way his veins popped as he gripped onto you. 

“where the fuck are you taking me?” you ask, pulling back defiantly, “i’m not something you can just drag around.” 

“tonight you are.” he practically growls at you, “now move your ass.” 

your night was taking an unexpected turn, this wasn’t something you did with toji – not in public anyways. your relationship was complicated. you dated for a while but you both knew that it wasn’t working, but you just couldn’t let all of each other go. 

so you created a new routine, one where you could ditch your feelings and use one another for what you were good for. if one of you needed each other it was simple. you’d call, fuck, and go straight home. but tonight, he was off, the way he was bodying people through the crowd his hand still firmly placed on your wrist as he drags you along.

the air feels charged with an unspoken challenge, a silent dare to resist him. yet, despite your defiance, there's something thrilling about his possessive hold, about the way he refuses to let you slip away.

he brings you to the bathroom of the club, practically flinging you against the sink,  hiking up your dress and landing a fat smack on your ass. his hand was stretched across your neck, using it to force you to see your face in the mirror in front of you.

his fingers run over your folds, you were already soaked “no panties, you really were planning on being a whore tonight huh.”

“no i-” 

“i’ve let you get away with a lot of shit, y’know that right?” he mutters, spreading your legs wide so he could fit right behind you, he pulls out his dick and rubs it across your wet slit.

“t-toji, someones… gonna see,” you force out, trying to glance at the bathroom door but toji had your head stuck in place, keeping your eyes trained on the mirror.

“and? do you think i fucking care…” he taunts, continuing to tease you with his dick only entering with just the tip, his precum mixing into your pussy, “don’t know why you’re becoming shy now, you were happy to be a slut out there.”

he rams his dick into you, thrusting hard, making sure that you could really feel him. toji was thick, you both knew that, he’d usually stretch you out with his fingers or his tongue before you fuck, but tonight he was merciless. the pain you felt when he entered brought tears in your eyes, you felt dazed, drunk on the dick that was ploughing straight into your pussy. you couldn’t help but fuck him back, throwing your ass back on his dick as he pushes in and out of you. you were desperate. wanting to feel him even deeper than he already was.

“see look at you,” his mouth is at your ear, your eyes meet directly through the mirror, “all fucked out on my dick, and you say you aren’t a slut.”

“I’m not i-” you try and catch your breath but toji hips slam into yours in quick succession, making it hard to gather your thoughts. 

“fuck princess,” he curses, loving the way your cunt clenches around him, “you’re taking me in so well.” 

“Its t-too much toji…” 

“I don’t care. you can take it,” he was too much, stuffing you full. you couldn’t think straight. his relentless fucking had you clenching your eyes shut, holding down on on the sink for dear life. he was practically punishing you, drilling into you with no remorse as he presses his fingers on your clit. “don’t cum until i say so.”

“but toji, ‘m close, im gonna…” you moan, you could feel yourself about to cum, your body trembling as you grind against his dick. 

“this pussy’s mine y’know. i say when you come. i say who gets to fuck you. i-” toji twitches inside of you, cupping your tits as he brings you closer towards him. his cum sprays inside of your walls, with you creaming on his dick. his cum leaks down your thighs, and he thrusts back into you, as if to keep you filled. 

“fuck,” he murmurs, he swiftly pulls out of you, shoving his dick back into his pants, leaving you there a dripping mess. there was something unspoken between the two of you, you were used to fucking rough, but this time was different. the way toji stared at you, treated you, was different. 

“are you just gonna leave?” you interrogate, all worn out as you see him heading to the exit of the bathroom.

“well, you got what you wanted.” he shrugs, “do you need a ride home or somethin?”

“what is with you tonight?” you question, caught off guard by his nonchalance, “what was that?” you couldn’t deny that you were happily fucked but you and toji have been in the same space on many occasions without their being any form of jealous outburst from him.

“don’t try and act like you didn’t come here tonight wanting this outcome,” he chastises, “what did you really expect?”

“i didn’t expect you to do this whole ‘im gonna fuck you in the bahtroom and claim you as mine,’ jealousy act,” you argue, pulling your dress down as you step closer to him, your face inches from his as you whisper, “oh my god, you were jealous.”

“jealous? of what exactly?” he counters defensively, “if i recall correctly, you weren’t even focused on guy, your eyes were looking around the room for me. you wanted me.”

“believe whatever you want toji,” you chuckle, you could see it now, his reaction to the guy you were dancing with, the way he quickly snatched you up to claim you, how his eyes can't even meet yours. “i think you’re just mad that you’ve finally realised that you’re not the only one with options.”

“well go see how those options of yours like you with my cum stuffed inside of you,” he scoffs, smirking at you with his arms folded as he storms at the bathroom, leaving you speechless.

weeks have passed since you’ve last seen toji, you had no desire to see him after his random act of craziness at the club. yes toji was attractive, and he was the best lay you’ve ever had but you did not have the time for a guy trying to control you.

you step into your apartment, the soft glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains. It's been a long day, and all you want is to sink into the comfort of your own space. but as you close the door behind you, a sense of unease prickles at the back of your mind. something's off.

there wasn’t much surprise when you see him, lounging casually on your couch as if he owns the place. a mixture of irritation and surprise courses through you as he flashes you a smirk.

"what the hell are you doing here?" you demand, your voice sharper than you intended.

toji looks up, his gaze meeting yours with that familiar intensity. "nice to see you too, princess."

you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "cut the crap, toji. why are you in my apartment?"

he smirks, his lips curling into that infuriatingly arrogant smile. "missed me, did you?"

“missed you? are you kidding me?" you scoff, your irritation boiling over. "you can't just waltz into my place like it's no big deal."

"relax, I'm just here to unwind" toji stretches, his casual demeanour only adding to your irritation, “and you gave me a key remember?”

"for emergencies" you snap, your patience wearing thin, “cut to the chase toji, i've got  plans.”

his mood shifts suddenly, his posture straightening as he steps towards you. “that’s exactly what i wanted to come talk to you about,” his tone grows more serious, “y’know in the past few weeks i’ve heard a few things about you and your ‘plans.’”

“what about them toji?” you were beyond fed up at this point, he’s trying to intimidate you, and you meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“it seems that you forgot what i told you in the bathroom all those weeks ago,” his face came inches closer to yours, his lips just a fraction away from your ear. “your pussy is mine.”

“why do you think you own me all of a sudden?” you snap, slightly shoving him away from you, “what happened to us just being people who occasionally fuck.”

“because you were only fucking me.”

“so what..?” you respond harshly, “in case you forgot you’re fucking half of the city.”

toji's gaze narrows, a hint of annoyance flashing across his eyes. "don't play stupid. you know damn well what I'm talking about."

you cross your arms over your chest, refusing to back down. "and what if I am? what's your problem, toji? we were just having fun, no strings attached."

be takes a step closer, his presence almost overwhelming in the confined space of your apartment. "fun, huh?" he practically sneers, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "is that what you call it? you think I'm just some convenient option for you?"

"convenient?" your voice rises, matching his intensity. "you were the one who suggested this arrangement in the first place."

a bitter smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "yeah, because i knew you couldn't handle anything more than that."

"excuse me?” your eyes narrow, anger coursing through your veins. “just face it, the reason we broke up in the first place is because you have commitment issues. so dont act like some relationship guru.”

“commitment issues, thats rich coming from you,” his jaw clenches, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. "i never said I was a guru. but don't act like you're some innocent victim in all of this."

you scoff, disbelief colouring your tone. "victim? I never claimed to be one. i knew what i was getting into, and I was fine with it. until you decided to play the possessive asshole."

toji's gaze darkens, his voice riddled with venom. "oh, so it's my fault now? i'm the asshole?"

"yes!" you practically shout, the frustration and pent-up anger finally boiling over. "you can't just waltz in and out of my life whenever it suits you, toji. i'm not here to satisfy your ego or your control freak tendencies."

he steps closer, his face dangerously close to yours. "you think you can just brush me off? go ahead, try. but you won't be able to. everybody knows you’re mine."

the audacity of his words sends a surge of rage through you. "i am not yours, toji. I am my own person, and I won't be dictated by your whims."

his eyes bore into yours, a storm of conflicting emotions raging within them. "you're playing a dangerous game princess."

"and you're deluding yourself if you think I'll just bend to your will," you retort, your voice unwavering.

toji's jaw clenches, his anger palpable. "fine. if that's how you want it, princess."

without another word, he turns on his heel and storms out of your apartment, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and defiance. as the door slams shut behind him, you realise that this confrontation might have just put an end to whatever twisted dynamic you and toji had going on. a conflicted sense of relief washes over you; you're relieved that toji is relinquishing his hold on you. however, a nagging feeling of hope stirs within you, making you question his sudden possessiveness. why does he want you all to himself? it's a thought you can't shake off, and as you ponder it, a whirlwind of uncertainty clouds your mind.

toji, on the other hand, was pissed. how could you not see that he wanted you – granted, he had an obscure way of showing it, but to him, it was clear as day. he had spent weeks grappling with the complexity of his feelings. the memories of your past together haunted him – the way you used to fit perfectly against his chest, the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears. he had buried those emotions deep, convincing himself that he was better off without the entanglements of a committed relationship.

you held a special place among the women he’d been with. it wasn't just about the physical connection, although he relished those moments when you shared that intimate space. what set you apart was your qualities – your strong mind, the way you weren't so easily fooled by him, how your eyes would glow when you’d get excited about the smallest things. with the others, there was no desire for him to stay with them after sex – they were disposable. but with you, he basked in the moments where he could lay with you after making love, cherishing the quiet intimacy.

however, after you broke up, you were cold and distant. you mirrored his own detachment, and he couldn’t help but feel used. the connection you once shared seemed to have transformed into something different, leaving him with a sense of emptiness. he found himself questioning whether he had been mistaken all along about what he thought was between you two.

deep inside, a storm raged within toji. he knew he was being unreasonable, that he had no right to demand more from you. after all, he had been the one who initiated this friends-with-benefits arrangement, drawing boundaries to keep emotions at bay. yet, watching you slip away from him, even as he tried to keep you at arm’s length, ignited a turmoil of conflicting emotions – anger, longing, and a fear of facing his own vulnerability.

days turned into weeks, and the void left by toji's absence gnawed at your thoughts. you found yourself replaying your heated exchange, questioning if you had made the right decision. toji's intensity had left an indelible mark, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more beneath his anger.

you finally had chance to be free of him, to try new options – just like you wanted. but they just didn’t hit the same (literally). the guys you’ve been with after toji were alright, they got the job done, but they were all missing something. something you feel that only he could provide for you.

tonight was no different, you lay there in the aftermath of yet another liaison, the room filled with a haze of lingering desire. the guy beside you basked in his post-coital glow, his arm lazily draped across your stomach. you should've been satisfied, content even. but instead, your mind drifted, thoughts consumed by memories of toji – his touch, his gaze, the way he made you feel alive in a way no one else could.

as you slipped out from under the guy's arm and got dressed, his sleepy voice trailed after you. "leaving so soon?"

you offered a vague smile, avoiding eye contact. "yeah, i've got an early morning."

he shrugged, seemingly unbothered, and settled back onto the bed. "alright, see you around."

the cool night air greeted you as you stepped out onto the city streets, your thoughts still dominated by memories of toji. the glow of streetlights illuminated your path as you walked, lost in your own contemplations. the truth was, despite your attempts to find solace in the arms of others, your heart still yearned for toji. the memories of your time together, the electric chemistry you shared, they all refused to fade. you had tried to suppress those feelings, to silence the longing that echoed within you. but as you walked alone through the city, you admitted to yourself that no one else could replace what you had with him.

lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the figure leaning against a nearby wall until you were practically upon him. your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked up to meet familiar dark eyes – toji. he looked just as surprised to see you as you were to see him, his usual composure momentarily faltering.

"toji?" you blurted out, unable to contain your shock.

"in the flesh," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and something else – something you couldn't quite place.

the awkward silence that followed was heavy with unspoken words, a whirlwind of emotions dancing between you. the memories of your last encounter, the heated confrontation that ended in a bitter clash, still lingered in the air. but beneath the surface, there was something more, a connection that time and distance hadn't completely eroded.

"toji, i..." you began, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words.

he looked at you, his expression unreadable. "i fucked this up."

the honesty in his voice took you by surprise, and for a moment, you were transported back to a time when it was just the two of you, when everything was simpler, and your connection was undeniable.

"it wasn’t all your fault." you admitted, your voice soft.

the tension that had hung in the air seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of understanding. in that moment, it was as if the weeks of distance and confusion melted away, leaving only the truth of your feelings.

"toji..." you began again, your voice steadier this time, "can we talk?"

wrapped in the warmth of the soft blankets, you and toji lay intertwined on the bed. his strong arms held you close, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath your cheek. the soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. the world outside seemed to fade away as you basked in the intimacy of the moment.

toji's fingers traced delicate patterns on your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. your fingers traced lazy circles on his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing soothing in its familiarity. the silence between you was comfortable, a testament to the unspoken understanding that had grown between you.

"you know," toji's voice broke the quiet, "i never thought we'd end up like this."

you looked up at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "like what?"

he met your gaze, his eyes holding a warmth that made your heart flutter. "like this. together."

a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you nuzzled closer to him. "yeah, well, life has a funny way of surprising us."

toji's lips found yours in a gentle kiss, a tender brush of affection that spoke volumes. as the kiss deepened, the worries and uncertainties of the past seemed to melt away, leaving only the present – the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms.

you pulled away slightly, your foreheads resting together as you looked into his eyes. "you know, for a while there, i thought we were too stubborn to admit what we really wanted."

he grinned, that familiar cocky smile that made your heart skip a beat. "well, you know me – always have to do things my own way."

you rolled your eyes playfully, swatting his chest. "yeah, that's for sure."

toji's fingers brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender and affectionate. "i'm glad we figured it out, though. i don't think i could've let you go again."

a soft sigh escaped your lips, your heart swelling with emotion. "me neither."

the two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, your bodies moulded together as if they were always meant to be this way. as you lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, you realised that the journey to this moment – the ups and downs, the twists and turns – had been worth it. because in the end, you had found your way back to each other, stronger and more connected than ever before. you thought you'd be content just being one of his girls, but now that your his girl again you were completely and utterly satisfied.

and just as your contentment settled in, toji's mischievous smirk tugged at his lips. "now come sit on my face, so I can remind you of what you’ve been missing out on," he whispered playfully.your laughter filled the room as he pulled you on top of him, his hands firmly gripping your hips. "toji!" you exclaimed, both surprised and amused. as your hands pressed against his chest, you couldn't help but revel in the familiarity of his touch. ah how you missed this.

#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #toji smut #toji angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen smut

[theemporium]

[3.6k] your life comes crumbling down when photos are leaked of your boyfriend making out with another girl. it doesn't help that your other boyfriend seems to be handling it worse than you are by ignoring the world, including you. well, the everyone except his rival.

series masterlist

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It felt like a nightmare. 

A sick, twisted nightmare that you were waiting to wake up from any minute now. You could imagine it so clearly, shooting up in your bed with the sheets sticking to your sweaty skin and blood roaring in your ears before soft, comforting French words washed over you. You imagined a pair of arms wrapping around you, holding you tight and a pair of lips pressed against the top of your head until you found the courage to speak.

Every cell in your body craved for that to be your reality, but it wasn’t. 

Instead, you were sitting on your bed in the comfort of your father’s home with the distant sound of music playing from the kitchen and the curtains pulled back to let the sunshine come through and—well, a series of photos on your screen that made you feel like you were about to vomit, if you even had anything in your stomach from last night’s dinner to bring up.

It wasn’t often you visited your father’s home in Switzerland. But sometimes you craved the normalcy and seclusion of the farmhouse. You craved a few days to just relax, to pretend you were a normal girl with a normal father with a normal life. You liked to play pretend for a few days, and Sebastian always entertained the whole concept because he liked having you around. 

That was what this trip was supposed to be. 

With the boys over in the states for the Miami Grand Prix, you had decided against flying out with them. It had been a few months since you had seen your father and, with no great urge to fuck up your body clock with jet lag, you had decided to fly up to Switzerland instead before the boys inevitably returned for Imola. 

It had been nice. It had been exactly what you needed. It had been the few days you needed to ground yourself, to remember life beyond the constant work and travel. It had been the perfect getaway. Even as a young girl, your life revolved around the paddock with your father racing every other weekend, it was easy to forget a life outside of it all. 

But right now? Yeah, you really fucking wish the outside world didn’t exist at all. 

Your relationship with your boys was complicated and intertwined and unconventional, but it was yours. You loved each other, you cared for each other, you would do anything for each other. Or at least, that was what you assumed. The day Charles Leclerc and Pierre Gasly entered your life, you thought everything made sense.

Even if it took a few years of beating around the bush and your own feelings to reach that conclusion. 

You thought your relationship with your boys was one of the key things that made your life so perfect, that made you happy to be the one living it. 

Until you woke up this morning, rolling over and reaching for your phone to find a flurry of notification banners filling up your screen. It was a mix of messages and mixed calls and mentions from almost every social media app you owned. It was a mess, undistinguishable and baffling to your barely-awake brain. You honestly just expected it to be another fluke, another stupid scandal blossoming out of nothing. It made you want to roll over and fall back asleep before your PR manager inevitably called you. 

God, you would have preferred a stupid scandal to this.

Instead, you found countless photos and videos of Pierre. He was in a club, most likely celebrating ending up in the points after the race. He was in that white linen shirt you loved on him, the one he always left a little too unbuttoned because he knew it drove you and Charles crazy. But instead of his friends or even Charles by his side, it was some random girl. 

His hands were all over her. She was pressed up against his front, starry eyed and grinning up at him. His lips were on her lips, her neck, any inch of skin he could kiss. She was laughing and dragging him out of the club. He was smiling and happily following her.

And you felt fucking sick. 

Not even in your worst nightmares had you imagined something like this, something as horrific and despicable and public as this. Never had you thought Pierre—one of the men you loved—could be capable of this. You never thought he could do this to you, to Charles. 

Charles. 

Charles who was nowhere to be seen in the videos. Charles who had messaged about having an early night sleep before he flew out to Maranello for Imola prep. Charles who was either asleep, on a plane or sitting in his hotel room in a similar state to you. 

Fuck, you wished you were with him right now. 

But you couldn’t stop reading the comments, reading the countless articles and tweets and posts about the whole situation. You couldn’t bring yourself to ignore the comments from strangers on the internet saying it was about time, that they were glad he got away from you. The ones showing sympathy were even worse because it made this real, it made the whole fucking thing so real.

You hadn’t even heard the music from the kitchen stop or the footsteps approaching your bedroom. You hadn’t heard the knock or the door slowly creaking open. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen until you felt a warm arm wrapping around your shoulders. 

“Shhh, honigbienchen, it’s okay. Let it out, I’ve got you,” Sebastian murmured, his voice soft and sweet and comforting and the exact thing you needed to break down the last of your crumbling walls. 

You pressed yourself into your father’s side as you sobbed, as you mourned the loss of what you believed was a loving and trusting relationship. You let yourself melt into his embrace as he held you close, as he held you together. 

You didn’t fight as he pulled your phone from your grasp, locking it and throwing it somewhere on the bed behind him. You didn’t fight as he pulled you closer, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck as you let the familiar smell of your father’s cologne—the same one he has used since you were a child—wash over you. You didn’t fight as he murmured comforting words in German because a part of you hoped he was right, wanted nothing more than your father to be right. 

You just let yourself break because you knew your father would keep you together.

...

...

The apartment felt like a mockery of the life you once lived. 

You remember the day the three of you signed the lease, it was one of the happiest days of your life. There were always concerns about moving too fast, about hitting a milestone as big as moving in together so early on in the relationship. But, in all honesty, you didn’t see the issues. Call it rose-tinted glasses or call it the truth, but it never felt too soon.

Not for you and your boys. 

Because the relationship was still new when you moved in, just under a year old, but you had known these boys for years. Your life had been intertwined with racing from the day you were born because of your father, you had seen these boys grow up alongside you. You had been there to see them both enter Formula one. You had been there to see Charles as your father’s teammate. 

You had been there for it all. 

You had been friends long before you were a couple. You had grown close to Charles in the days your father wore the Ferrari emblem. You had found yourself attached to the boy, bonding with him in a way you never had in previous years. And where Charles was, Pierre was close behind. They were the package deal you thought you had lucked out on. 

So, moving in together seemed like a baby step in the future the three of you had planned together, a simple necessity as you continued to grow and love and care for each other. 

Now, it was a painful reminder that the place you called your home was tainted with the memories of a man you once loved. Maybe still loved. You hadn’t wanted to delve into those feelings too much yet.

It was empty. 

You had expected as much, or maybe you didn’t. You weren’t sure anymore. 

A small part of you assumed for this to be the moment you woke up from your nightmare. That you would wake up in your bed, slowly blinking your eyes open as you heard the boys laughing away in the kitchen at whatever they were attempting to cook before you woke. 

Another part of you expected to find Charles here, looking like a mirror reflection of you as you finally fell into his arms, as you received the touch you had been craving from him and him only in the last forty-eight hours. 

Another part of you expected to find Pierre standing in front of you, despite the reassurance you had received from a few friends at Alpine that the boy hadn’t left Miami. You thought maybe he would be here to beg for forgiveness or explain himself. You thought maybe he would at least have the decency to look half as worried as you were about Charles’ disappearance off the face of the Earth. 

You didn’t know if you were disappointed or relieved that he wasn’t here.

With your messages and calls receiving no answer from Charles, you had packed your bags and hopped on the first flight out of Switzerland. Your father had his reservations of you leaving so soon, of you being alone. To be completely honest, you wished you could have stayed in his arms forever and ignore everything.

But you needed to see Charles. 

You had to see him with your own two eyes because he was the only person in the world who understood what you were going through. 

To the world, it was just you and Pierre. And you were all okay with that for right now, you were okay with keeping the details and complications of your relationship private until the moment was right. 

But right now, you fucking despised it. Because the world was so focused on you and on Pierre and on the random girl from the club, but nobody was looking at Charles. Nobody cared about Charles. And despite your relationship being an open secret to the paddock, it seemed not even the people closest to him—his own fucking team—knew where he was.

And it fucking terrified you.

Monaco had been your last hope. Your apartment had been a fucking last resort. You were grasping at straws and you were losing your mind and there were a million different things running through your head but you just wanted Charles. 

There was still a voice in the back of your head reassuring you that he would show up, that he would walk through that door and fall into your arms until you both felt something other than pain right now. 

You wanted nothing more than for him to come home, to come to you. 

But forty-eight hours of emotions were wracking through you and you didn’t even realise you were falling asleep on the living room couch until your body was too tired to even try sitting up.

...

…

“Where did you find him?” 

“Well, hello to you too.” 

You flashed the Dutchman a sheepish smile as a wave of embarrassment washed over you. Your brain had been on a one-track mentality since you received his message, the bleary-eyed sleepiness long gone the second he mentioned Charles. You hadn’t even bothered to drive over, far too jittery and worked up to get behind the wheel. You needed the cold air to calm you down.

“Sorry, hello,” you greeted as you stepped into his apartment, trying to push down the urge to just grab Max’s shoulders and shake him until he told you where Charles was. “I just—”

“I know, you’re worried,” he said, his voice softer than you expected. “C’mon, I left him on the couch because he looked comfortable and I didn’t want to disturb him.”

You silently followed the boy through the long entrance corridor, your hands clenched into fists at your side to stop yourself from picking at the skin around your nail beds until they were raw and bleeding. 

You tried to prepare yourself for the sight you were going to see, to prepare for the worst just in case. 

You hadn’t expected him to look so…peaceful. 

He was sprawled on Max’s couch like the boy had said, his clothes rumpled and his hair messy but—at first glance, at least—he looked okay. But you could see the signs that he was no better than you were. His cheeks were red, like he had been crying a lot, and so was the tip of his nose, like he had been wiping it excessively. He looked worn down, and heavier than usual. Like there was a weight on his shoulders beyond the usual season stress. 

He looked like he was half as put together as you.

“I found him outside a bar,” Max’s voice startled you out of your thoughts as he stepped into the space beside you at the bottom of the couch. “I was on a late night run—you know, jet lag and stuff—and he was there. He was…” 

You frowned a little, turning to look at the Dutchman. “He was what?” 

“He wasn’t okay,” Max whispered with his own frown. “He could barely string a sentence together, let alone stand up. I think he had been kicked out of the bar, I don’t know. I promised him I would call you if he came back with me. I…I couldn’t just leave him there, you know?” 

You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat. “Thank you, Max.”

“It’s no problem, really,” he assured you and the silence fell between you two once more. And Max watched as your attention shifted back to Charles. He waited a few moments, a mental debate playing in his head, back and forth like a tennis match before he spoke up again. “I’m sorry. About everything. It…uh, it really sucks.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Thanks.” 

Max took the hint and quickly shifted the conversation. “It doesn’t look like he is waking up anytime soon,” he said. “You can stay the night. The spare room is free. Or I can bring some blankets out here if you don’t want to leave him.”

You turned to him, a strained smile on your face. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s okay,” he assured you, and something in you felt relieved that you wouldn’t have to return home to that bed, the bed you shared with him. “It’s late anyways. You look like you need some rest.”

You chose to omit the fact that you hadn’t slept more than a few hours in the last few days, and even that was after crying yourself to exhaustion. 

“Thank you, Max. Really.” 

The Dutchman smiled. “Like I said, it’s no problem.”

...

…

When Charles woke up the next morning, his head was killing him.

There was a bright light on his face, his mouth felt desert dry and he could have sworn there was a heavy weight on his chest. Not the metaphorical kind he had been lugging around for the last few days, but something actually weighing down on his chest and making it a little hard to breathe.

He gave himself a moment, tried to ground himself and hype himself up to open his eyes when he knew the light would only be more irritating than it was now. He tried to prepare himself for the killer hangover he was going to have to nurse all day, along with the countless calls to his team to apologise for not showing up to any of the meetings. 

To eventually reply to you too. 

However, when Charles finally gained the courage to open his eyes, the last thing he expected was to see a cat staring down at him. 

“What the—” He startled as he quickly sat up. 

The cat let out a noise of surprise before meowing, glaring at him before it padded off. Charles watched it for a few moments before blinking, taking in the unfamiliar setting around him. He knew he wasn’t in his apartment, or his mother’s, or either of his brothers’. 

He had no fucking idea where he was. 

But before the overwhelming fear took over his body and made him throw up everything he drank the previous night, you wandered into the room with a mug in hand. 

“You’re awake,” you breathed out, stopping mid-walk like you couldn’t quite believe he was there. 

Charles opened his mouth to say something but you reacted faster. The mug was abandoned on the coffee table he had failed to notice and you were throwing yourself in his arms, clinging onto him like you hadn’t seen him in years. 

It had felt like it had been years.

Charles let himself wind his arms around you, to pull you onto his lap and nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck until the familiar scent of your shampoo completely engulfed him. He let himself enjoy the feeling of you in his arms after almost two weeks of not seeing you in person. He let himself enjoy the one person in this world that didn’t make him feel like questioning everything in his life. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry—”

“Shhh, it’s fine,” you whispered back, sniffling back your own tears. “It’s fine. You’re here now, that’s what matters.” 

“But—”

“I just need you, Charles, no matter how long you take,” you murmured, your words slightly muffled but his arms tightened around you in understanding. 

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes, just soaking in the presence after so long apart. And, if he was being honest, he was in no rush to speak about everything. It had been playing on his mind like a broken record since he saw the videos, he didn’t want to give it any more brain space. He knew it was inevitable, but right now he just wanted to enjoy you. 

“Where are we?” He asked eventually when the curiosity and the cat glaring at him became too much. 

“Max’s house,” you murmured, feeling the boy tense beneath you. You pulled back, keeping yourself close as you flashed the boy a sheepish expression. “He found you last night and brought you here before something happened to you.”

“Oh.” Charles blinked. “That was kind of him.” 

“Very,” you nodded in agreement. You watched him for a few moments as he stared around the living room before you continued talking. “My team messaged me.”

Charles swallowed. “Yeah?”

“They want to know what our plan is,” you whispered. You didn’t need to say more than that, Charles understood. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Val thinks it will backfire,” you murmured, looking down at your hands instead of his face. “If we are seen together too much.” 

Charles tensed. 

“The media might spin a story about me moving on from—” You paused, his name unable to pass your lips. 

“Can we just…not talk about this right now?” Charles whispered, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I just…it’s too much.”

“Okay,” you whispered with a nod. 

“We will handle it,” Charles assured you as he reached for your hand. Because he knew you, he knew the whole thing was eating  you up and it didn’t help pushing the conversation away. But he needed to be in the right state for it—not half-drunk from the night before. “Together. I promise.”

You sniffled, squeezing his hand. “Together.” 

“You two want pancakes for breakfast?” 

Both of your heads snapped around to find Max by the door, a kind smile on his face. He paused when he took a look at the both of you, probably noticing the solemn faces and red eyes and instantly looking embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry, did I just ruin a moment?” 

You shook your head. “No—”

“We would love pancakes,” Charles finished for you, trying to focus on your hand in his rather than the fact he was sitting on the couch of the man he had been competing with for a majority of his life. “Coffee is on us. As a thank you.” 

Max waved him off. “It’s fine—”

“We insist,” you said firmly. 

Max glanced between you before nodding. “Okay,” he said. “But I’m only saying yes because you two seem very stubborn and I’m not awake enough to deal with that.” 

And for the first time in over forty-eight hours, you had the oddest urge to laugh.

“Wanna order the coffee together?”

“Together.”

You weren’t sure what would happen next. You didn’t know what you were going to tell Val or the rest of your team. You didn’t know what Charles’ team would say. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do when you eventually saw Pierre again, when you had to sort out the fact you technically shared a flat with him.

But right now, your biggest issue was figuring out which coffee Max Verstappen liked and it was a kind distraction to your messy life.

Especially with the assurance that Charles was by your side.

.

#lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[loriache]

Kabru, impossible mutual understanding & unknowable objects

Despite his concerted and constant efforts to understand other people, it’s established in a few extras that Kabru believes that true mutual understanding between certain different races is impossible. Specifically, between long-lived and short-lived races, and between humans and demi-humans. Partially, we can trace this conviction back to specific hang-ups caused by his life; the trauma of the Utaya disaster, prejudices he carries from his childhood, and his experience of racism among the elves. In this “little” essay, I’m gonna discuss how I think those experiences formed this belief, how it comes out in his actions, and how some of his actions seem to contradict it. The question of whether it’s possible to reach mutual understanding with other living beings despite our differences is one of the core themes of the manga, and I’ll also touch on how this aspect of Kabru’s character links to that.

Seeking understanding

Kabru is a character who devotes a huge amount of time and effort to understanding people, and he is very good at it. In his internal monologue, we can tell how advanced and complex his skills of analysis are. He is able to read a huge amount of information just from looking at people's faces and body language.

People are, to him, what monsters are to Laios. This is something that's been expanded on at length in other, excellent meta. It's the fact that they're foils; it's the fact that Kabru is also very easy to read as autistic, with a special interest which is the opposite and parallel of Laios'. It's something that came out of trauma and alienation, as Laios' special interest in monsters also began as a coping mechanism.

The complicated origin of this "love" for monsters and for people comes through, I think, in the fact that one of the places we see both characters use their fixation is in being very, very good at killing the thing that they love. This also ties into the idea that loving something isn't even remotely mutually exclusive with using it to sustain your own survival; using it for your own purposes; hurting it or killing it. Love can be, and often is, violent, possessive and consumptive. This understanding is part of what makes Kui's depiction of interpersonal relationships so compelling to me.

While Laios fixated on monsters and animals to seek a place of escape, in both his imagination and his self-image, from the humans who he couldn't understand and who couldn't understand him, Kabru seems to have fixated on understanding people in order to navigate the complex, socially marginal places that he has been forced into throughout his life. As an illegitimate child raised by a single mother with an appearance that marked him out as different to the point his father's family wanted to kill him, and a tallman child raised among elves who didn't treat him as fully human and wanted him to perform gratefulness for that treatment – treatment that, after he met Rin at age 9, he certainly always understood could be a lot worse – his ability to work out what people wanted from him, whether they were friendly or hostile or had ulterior motives, wasn’t just an interest. It will have been an essential skill.  

Milsiril, I think, was a flawed parent who tried to do her best by Kabru and did a lot of harm to him despite her best intentions. She may have treated him much better than an average elf would have, but like Otta and Marcille's mother, there are other elves with different outlooks on short-lived races. How would they judge her treatment of him? We don’t have any insight on what it could be, but to be honest, the person’s whose opinion of her I’d be most interested in knowing is Rin’s.

But even if she'd been perfect, living as an trans-racial adoptee in a deeply hierarchical nation with a queen who is a 'staunch traditionalist' who wouldn't even acknowledge the existence of a half-elf like Marcille (according to Cithis) is an experience that would deeply impact anyone.

Elves & Impossible mutual understanding

While Kabru was living with Milsiril - in other words, while living in the Northern Central Continent - he came to believe that "there was no way to achieve mutual understanding with the long-lived races."

This is evident in his political project: he wants short-lived races to have ownership over the dungeon's secrets. Despite his dislike of the Lord of the Island, he's a useful bulwark to stop the elves taking over. Despite his doubts about Laios, Laios needs to be the one to defeat the dungeon, because if he doesn't the elves will take over.

Kabru still carries a deep scar from Utaya, one that was exacerbated by the fact that he never got an answer to any of his questions about what happened or why. This, despite the fact that Milsiril knows about the demon and how it works. Do you think Kabru, with his social perceptiveness that borders on the superhuman, wasn't aware that she knew more than she would tell him?

Given that, the fact that he gets to a place where he "doesn't have any particularly negative feelings about [elves/long-lived species]" .... well, to put it bluntly, I believe that he thinks that's the case, but I kind of doubt it. After all, if he did have resentment, of Milsiril (someone who was his primary provider and caretaker since age six, and who despite her flaws, loves him and who I do think he loves) or of elves (who he has had to play nice with for most of his life, in order to survive, and will still have to play nice with in order to achieve his goals, since they hold all the power) what would that do except hurt him and make his life harder? Kabru is Mr. Pragmatic, so I don't think he'd let himself acknowledge any such feelings he did have. Exactly because he can't acknowledge them, they're well placed to get internalised as beliefs about the Fundamental Unchangeable Nature of the World.

However, these stated beliefs seem to contradict his actions. Despite his belief in the impossibility of forming a mutual understanding, he certainly seems to try to understand long-lived people, just as much as he does short-lived people. There's no noticeable difference between his treatment of Daya & Holm versus Mickbell & Rin that isn't clearly down to their relationship with him. His skills of human analysis were honed and developed while living amongst elves, and as soon as he's alone with Mithrun he immediately sets to understanding him - his interests, his motivations, his needs, and his past.

He treats him considerately and without bias, and despite the fact that Mithrun conquering the dungeon for the elves is both a reenactment of a core part of his childhood trauma and a political disaster for his aims, that doesn't seem to colour his perspective on Mithrun negatively at all.

This is something I find extremely laudable about Kabru, and it's another way he parallels Laios. He seems to understand that people, as a rule, (in Laios' case, he understands this about monsters - and eventually, all living beings) will act in their own interests, and if those interests conflict with yours, might harm you. But that's just their nature, and it's not something that should be held against them; you're also doing the same thing, after all. The crux of Laios' arc is precisely that he has to accept the responsibility of hurting someone else in order to achieve what he wants.

Kabru is deeply concerned with his own morals, what he should and shouldn't do, but mostly in the context of responsibility for the consequences - a responsibility he takes onto himself. He isn't scrupulous about what he needs to do in order to create the outcome he wants, but if he fails to create that outcome, then....

He blames himself to the point of thinking he should die. He doesn't blame Laios, or seem at all angry with him, despite concluding he should have killed him to prevent this outcome. That's because in his eyes, ultimately Laios was going to act according to his own nature, and it's Kabru's fault for not understanding that nature well enough. He's extremely confident in his ability to understand and predict others, (including elves and other long-lived people). Then, where does his conviction that mutual understanding is impossible come from?

Partially, it's the "mutual" part. I'm sure Kabru, who isn't able or willing to deny Otta's insinuation that Milsiril saw him more like a pet than a son, has felt that his full interiority, the depth of his feelings and his ability to grow, act, and think as a fully equal being, was something that the elves around him just couldn't grasp. Because that was their excuse for it, he came to understand this as a gulf between short-lived and long-lived beings, an inevitable difference in outlook caused by their different lifespans.

This experience might be part of what leads to his iconic “fake” behaviour. He trusts his ability to understand others, but if they aren’t able to understand him, then there isn’t any benefit to being honest about his feelings and thoughts. If his attempts to reach mutual understanding with his caretakers were never able to be fulfilled, then it isn’t any wonder that he reacts with such surprise and horror at blurting out his desire to be Laios’ friend.

In his experience, making yourself vulnerable in that way only leads to being hurt. Soothing him, hushing him, lying to him, talking to him like a child that isn’t able to use proper judgement – that’s an inadequate and deeply hurtful way to respond to genuine distress, the desire for autonomy, or disagreement. Ultimately, I think that’s why he comes out on the side of being grateful to Milsiril; because she did equip him with the skills and knowledge he’d need to reach his goal, and let him go.

Though he could understand them, they couldn't understand him. To the extent that was true - which I'm sure it was - it wasn't due to anything about lifespan. It was due to the elves’ racism, and the solipsitic mindset & prejudiced attitude that it caused them to approach him with.

Because, if it needs to be said, the idea that there is an unbreachable gap in understanding between the long-lived and short-lived species is not true. Marcille and Laios have a much greater difference in lifespan than any full elf from any short-lived person, and they’re able to understand each other – maybe not perfectly, but better than many other people who are closer in life-span to them.

That doesn’t mean that I think Kabru is wrong about this, however. Because there’s an interpretation of his statement that is reflected in his actions and is true. When he talks about his problem with elves, it’s not just their attitudes: it’s their power, and what they use it to do. They “explain nothing and take everything”. Though it’s presented in the guise of ‘guiding and protecting’, in fact it’s a simple case of a powerful nation using their military power, wealth, access to resources, and historically stolen land – including the island itself – to protect their own interests and advance their own agenda. That’s why they’d be able to show up, seize the dungeon, and forcibly take Kabru’s party and Laios’ party to the West. If Kabru wants to stop that from happening, or change that status quo, persuasion or a bid to be understood would be completely pointless. Between the political blocs formed by long-lived species and the interests of short-lived species, “mutual understanding”, given their current, unequal terms, would be impossible. This is something that we see reflected in Kabru’s actions; before he asks his questions about the dungeon, he grabs Mithrun as leverage. He never really attempts to persuade the canaries to see his point of view, because that would be pointless: they’re agents of the Northern Central Continent’s monarchy, and will act in its interests regardless of any individual relationship with him.  

I don’t think Kabru sees the different dimensions of this belief of his in quite such clear terms, however, as is evidenced by the other group who he thinks it’s impossible to communicate with.

Demi-Humans & Unknowable Objects

The other place that we see his conviction about the impossibility of mutual understanding is in the kobold extra.

I'm including the whole thing, because I think it's an excellent and clever piece of world-building. Aside from what it says about Kabru, which I'll expand on shortly, what this extra does is deconstruct and call into question the usual "fantasy ontological biology" present in these sort of DnD-like settings. Essentially, the kind of worldbuilding where a race (such as kobolds) can be described as war-like, and that's establishing something essential about their biological nature. That's common to the point that if Kui didn't include this, some people would probably come away thinking that's the case about, e.g., the orcs.

But here, despite what Kabru is saying, the information the reader actually gets is:

the conflict between short-lived humans and demi-humans such as kobolds is mostly over access to material resources that they need to survive.

These resources are scarce because powerful nations, such as the elves, have monopolised them.

Kabru, who has grown up in a place at the centre of these conflicts, ascribes essential, negative traits to a cultural group which was in direct conflict with his own. Communication with this other group is impossible; they aren't people, they're more like objects.

oh yes! just like this conflict between groups of tall-men, a conflict which the reader will immediately interpret as more clearly analogous to real-life racism. Our other protagonists also carry prejudices from growing up in a place where a marginalised group was in conflict with the dominant group over scarce resources. It's definitely impossible to communicate with these people, and you can only kill them.

Woah, when you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad!

But also, nobody walks away having had a realisation or unlearned their prejudices - because they don't have the tools they need to do that work. Yet. I do think, to an extent, it could happen - especially with Kabru, since it's suggested in the epilogue that Melini might become a safe-haven for demi-humans.

To focus in on Kabru, the key here is his statement that you should think of demi-humans as "unknowable objects". Even his extraordinary powers of understanding have seemingly hit a limit. Part of this is just inherited prejudice, and doesn't need to have a complicated psychological explanation, any more than the elves who were prejudiced against him need one.

But also... this is probably somewhat linked to the way demi-humans seem to be considered "pseudo-monsters". They're the place that the strict delineation between the human and the monstrous is permeated. Laios, who is not interested in humans, remembers and is excited by Kuro. Chilchuck and Laios argue over whether it's OK to eat a mermaid. Kabru's prepared to (pretend to) roll with the idea that Laios ate the orcs.

But these are people, aren't they? Of course, this is a social construction, as we see from the fact that in the Eastern Archipelago, the label of "human" is reserved for tallmen, but in most of the rest of the world it depends on some obviously arbirary classification based on number of bones; "demi-humans" aren't in any essential way monstrous, except to an extent in their appearance, and physical location - due to their marginal social status, they're pushed out to live in unsafe places such as dungeons.

Therefore, Kabru's view of demi-humans as fundamentally "other", unable to be understood - monstrous - could be read as akin to abjection, the psychoanalytical concept described by Julia Kristeva. In order to create a bounded, secure superego, that thing which permeates and calls into question the border between self and other, human and animal, life and death, is rejected and pushed to the margin.

“Not me. Not that. But not nothing, either. A "something" that I do not recognize as a thing.[...] On the edge of nonexistence and hallucination, of a reality that, if I acknowledge it, annihilates me. There, abject and abjection are my safeguards. The primers of my culture.” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 11) “It is thus not lack of cleanliness or health that causes abjection but what disturbs identity, system, order. ” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 13) “The pure will be that which conforms to an established taxonomy; the impure, that which unsettles it, establishes intermixture and disorder. [...] the impure will be those that do not confine themselves to one element but point to admixture and confusion.” (Kristeva et al., 1984, p. 107) (discussing food prohibitions in Leviticus)

This is both (due to its affinity with food-loathing and disgust) a very fruitful concept to apply to dunmeshi, and a psychoanalytical theory which I wouldn't exactly cosign as True Facts About Human Psychological Development. You may also know the abject from its utilisation in the classic essay "Horror and the Monstrous-Feminine" by Barbara Creed - that's a lot more approachable than Kristeva if anyone's interested.

Key here, though, is that through the symbol of the "demi-human" is embodied a step between "human" and "monster" - and that's a prospect that puts at risk the whole notion of an absolute separation between those two categories in the first place. To Laios, that's something wonderful, and to Kabru, it's terrifying. We can see this principle further embodied in the relationship both characters have with the notion of becoming monstrous.

To Laios, this is transcendent, and represents a renunciation of everything human - in fact, if it didn't, it wouldn't "count".

To Kabru, it's a deeply-held fear, established by his childhood alienation (due to his illegitimacy, his eyes, and perhaps also his neurodivergency), deepened by monster-related trauma and the sense of responsibility and survivors guilt he feels for what happened at Utaya. His identity as a human who is not monstrous is key to his sense of stability and safety; he doesn't want to touch monsters, he doesn't even want to see them.

To acknowledge a kinship, a possibility of similarity between the things he loves (humans) and the things he hates (monsters) would be more than touching them - it would be putting them inside him. We know, quite explicitly, that this notion is triggering to Kabru. He literally has what seems to be a flashback when he's about to eat the harpy omelette.

So he abjects it, classifying the demi-human as fundamentally unlike him - an unknowable object, or an object that he refuses to know. Because in understanding it, he would interject the things he hates and fears into his self, which is already, always under threat by that hated and feared object.

Of course, again, Kabru isn't very good at enacting this refusal in practice. For one, when he chooses between his desires and ingesting the feared object, eating monsters... he eats monsters. Part of this is treating himself badly, the "ends justify the means" mentality. His goal is to destroy all monsters, so if he needs to become monster-like to do that, he will. But part of it is also the other motivation that he didn't even seem to know about until he said it: he wants to become Laios' friend, and to learn from him how a person can like monsters. He wants, at least in some part of him, to reconcile the feared and hated object into something he can understand.

For another:

Kabru can speak the kobold language. In the first place, while this may have been common in Utaya, it also could have been something he chose to learn, an early expression of his interest in understanding and talking to all sorts of people. It isn't the kind of thing you learn if you believe that communication between yourself and the group that speak it is impossible, is it?

It's possible to harbour prejudices against a group while being kind to an individual, and given Kabru has those prejudices regardless of his reasons, that is what he is doing. But also, his treatment of Kuro doesn't reflect a sincerely held belief that he's an "unknowable object" at all. His approach is exactly the same as it is to any other person: an analysis of goal and motive, and an attempt to help if he's sympathetic and their goals align - going out of his way to give language and local knowledge lessons in secret. His conviction that Mickbell and Kuro will truly become friends when they can properly communicate is completely contradictory to any sense of demi-humans as fundamentally different, or impossible to reach mutual understanding with. To me, it seems like this self-protective shield against the corruptive force demi-humans as an idea present to his identity, this abjection, when Kabru is face-to-face with one, just simply can't hold up against his finely honed skill of intellectual empathy. Perhaps because he's autistic, it seems his "empathy" is less an emotional mirror response, and more a set of cognitive skills for analysis of others. That instinctual, emotional empathy might not trigger when presented with a member of an out-group, but if it’s possible for Kabru to turn his cognitive empathy off, we don’t see him do it.

This isn't to say that this prejudice doesn't affect his behaviour. For one, it could negatively impact his judgement of politics and policy, where individual people don't enter into it. For another, I'm not convinced he'd be willing to overlook Mickbell's exploitative relationship with Kuro if Kuro wasn't a kobold. As it is, since both of them are satisfied, he doesn't feel like he needs to intervene, regardless of the fact Mickbell isn't paying Kuro. But if Daya and Holm were in a relationship, and Holm took both Daya's and his own share from their ventures, but only compensated her in living expenses and kept the rest, do you think he'd tolerate it, for example? Even if she said it was OK?

Conclusion

The kelpie chapter establishes that "people can never know what monsters are really thinking." That isn't just true of monsters, though.

True mutual understanding is impossible - between anyone. We can never truly understand another person's heart. This is touched on in, for example, the existence of shapeshifters and dopplegangers. Even a monster that seemed like a perfect copy of a person wouldn’t be that person, and wouldn’t be a satisfactory replacement.

We’re intended, I think, to understand the winged lion's repeated suggestions to just replace people who have been lost with copies as something uncanny, which demonstrates the way that the winged lion never manages to attain a complete understanding of humans. A version of a person who was created to fulfil your memories of them, to be the person who you wanted them to be, would be a terrible, miserable thing.

Disagreeing, coming into conflict, and misunderstanding each other, are essential parts of what it means to be living beings, as fundamental as the need to eat.

The only thing to do is not to take more than you need to eat to survive, and not impose your own desires onto others. To do your best to sincerely communicate your desires, even if they're embarrassing or vulnerable or strange, like Kabru eventually does with Laios; like Laios does, bit by bit, with the people around him; like Marcille does, Chilchuck does, Senshi does... to hope they will accept you, and do your best to understand them in return.

We can re-examine, in that context, Kabru's line about the elves' tendency to "explain nothing and take everything".

They have the power to impose their preferred "menu" onto less powerful groups. And in that context, mutual understanding being impossible just means that they won't give up their power because they're asked nicely. Kabru's goal is to seize the truth that they won't give to him, and to create a situation where they can't take everything. Because he's accurately surmised that nothing about the treatment of short-lived races will change so long as the power imbalance remains. Despite the way he mistakenly ascribes part of that to "long-lived vs short-lived" or "human vs demi-human", the actual gulfs in understanding he identifies are structural, are about power and about access to material resources and safety.

I think he could come to recognise this. Yaad is teaching him political science after all, and while a prince's lessons on political science won't exactly get at much that's radical or invested in the interests and perspectives of the marginalised (Capital is a critique of for a reason after all...) I believe in Kabru's ability to learn critically and get more from a lesson than it was intended to teach.

#og post #kabru of utaya #kabru dungeon meshi #laios touden #dungeon meshi meta #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #dungeon meshi analysis #kuro dungeon meshi #the canaries #milsiril #continuing to develop my kabru theses. #literally sitting and thinking about kabru all day. rotating him. #he's in the microwave. to me.

[cys-fic-library]

Nighttime Affairs (The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Reader)

You and the Ghoul, Cooper Howard, have a complicated relationship with each other. One which involves him paying you some nightly visits when he passes on by that little home of yours out in the lonesome wasteland.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal sex, fingering, bit of orgasm denial, bit of dirty talking, creampie, biting (its cooper i dunno what you expect, he's going to bite you), oral - reader receiving, complicated relationship, bit of yearning/pinning, fluff, cuddling, kissing, splash of angst, not beta read

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x gn!afab!Reader (reader's gender is never mentioned but they do have a vagina)

Wordcount: 4256

a/n: made the smut a bit angsty at the end there by mistake. whoopsie daisies. Anyway, like it says above readers gender is never mentioned. But they do have a vagina (because I have a vagina, and I want to fuck the ghoul). Nothing about reader's chest is ever mentioned either. Also I usually write fluff/non smut fics, and only tend to post that. I have written smut before, but this is just my first time actually sharing some of it. So like ;-; Okie dokie? okie dokie.

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics (much love j ❤️)

Nights in the wasteland were always a deadly affair. All sort of creatures made themselves known—both human and non-human alike—never having the friendliest of tendencies. It was why you always made sure that your windows remained boarded up. Double checking the door of your home to be firmly locked, before finally making your way to bed.

You always kept a gun hidden beneath your pillow as you slept. Easy to grab in case of a break in. Acting like a sort of safety blanket. Hoping that such a comfort would help you sleep soundly, though most nights you still found it difficult. Restlessness haunted you. Plagued your mind. Never truly able to rest easily—not with danger lurking around ever dark corner. 

 Sometimes that unease proved helpful. Such as tonight, while on the brink of sweet slumber, there had been a shift in the room. The sound of worn floorboards creaking jolting you awake. It wouldn’t be the first time some wanderer had tried to get the jump on you in the middle of the night. 

Hand quick to grab your gun, you point it at the new body in the room. Adrenaline pumping in your veins. Heart on edge. Ready to fire at a moment's notice. 

“Easy there sweetheart.” 

Your tired eyes blinked. Once. Twice. Trying to clear away your sleep clouded vision enough to properly comprehend the familiar figure currently standing in the center of your tiny room. 

“Cooper?” 

The Ghoul grinned at you in the darkness. Hazel eyes almost seeming to shine from the moonlight that managed to filter in. His head had tilted to motion to the gun in your hand. An amused hum leaving him. “Bit of a rude way to greet your guests.” 

“Wouldn’t call you much of a guest.” You lowered the gun and rubbed at your face with a sigh. “More of a nuisance if anything.” 

“Aw, your words wound me darlin’.” His words drawn out and mocking, as he feigned being hurt, before he had turned from you to continue removing his gear. Setting it all wherever he liked in your room. Acting almost as if he owned the place. Not a care in the world that he was currently invading your home uninvited. Again. 

You could only seem to roll your eyes as you watched him. “What are you doing here so late?” 

“Oh just passin’ through.” The Ghoul said with a casual hum. Pulling out his own gun, its barrel glinting just as his gaze had earlier, before he set it on your nightstand. The tossing of his hat onto your bedpost quickly following. “Needed a place to stay.” 

It hadn’t been a question. He wasn’t asking. Never really did when he chose to invite himself into your home. It used to scare you way back when you first met the Ghoul. You never knew if the next time he came would be the one where you met with a bullet. 

But you learned quickly that Cooper only ever did what he felt he needed to. Wouldn’t take the life of someone he found to be useful. He didn’t kill pointlessly like that. Everything had a reason with him. Even if you couldn’t quite see it at first. 

“Well why don’t just make yourself at home then.” You grumbled. Annoyed. A bit more bite to your words then usual. Though it hadn’t seemed to phase him in the slightest. 

“Already on it sweetheart.” 

You glared at him, but he continued to barely pay any mind to it. As you went to put your own gun back beneath the pillow, you had laid down again. Rolling to face the wall, and letting out a tired breath, as you tried to settle. Let the exhaustion claw at your mind and allow your eyes to flutter close. Trying to ignore him just as he did to you. “Just don’t make a mess.” 

The Ghoul hadn’t replied. Which had been a surprise. He always seemed to have something to say. But there was none of that. Instead there was only the sound of more shuffling in the room before the bed finally shifted with his added weight. Pulling you back from the brink of sleep just enough, as he joined you among the tattered sheets.

 Your bed was cramped. Meant for only a single soul, and yet that never seemed to bother him as he fit himself in how he liked. It didn’t take very long for you to feel the press of his cool body against yours. An arm finding itself around your waist, as lips sought out your neck and trailed over your skin. 

“Sleeping.” You said. Quiet. But still you shifted. Legs parting ever so slightly. An invitation you knew he wouldn’t refuse. 

You allowed him to take what he wanted—his true reason for being here—and he did so greedily. Without any ounce of hesitation, bare fingers smoothing down and slipping past the waistband of your pants into their front. Immediately finding the prize he wanted. Your breath hitching as they ghosted over your clit. Teasing. 

“Then sleep.” Lips caressed your ear. His breath hot on your skin. Rough hands had molded you into his liking. Feeling yourself growing wet beneath his fingers all too quickly, as two of them slipped into your heat at first chance. “Don’t bother me, none.” 

Desire bloomed inside you. Arousal coiling tight. He left marks where he could. Harsh kisses that had teeth grazing your skin. Fingers moving inside of you to pull any sound from your lips that he could. Touching you in ways that had you burning, as if you would be engulfed in flames at any second. Toying with your body and purposely bringing you so close to the edge without ever actually bothering to send you over. 

“Stop teasing.” You had shifted again. Trying to provide more space for his devilish hands.  Moving yourself against him to seek the feeling you so desired—that last bit of pleasure that he denied you so easily, and would continue to do so. 

“I thought you were sleeping.” His words had a teasing tone to their depths, as he nipped at your skin. Pressing himself closer. Grinding. His own arousal hard against your hip. Just as worked up as you were it seemed. But somehow still not nearly as desperate. 

“Was trying to.” You sighed out a moan. Leaning impossibly close into him. Hand gripping at his wrist tight as he worked you. Letting his touch consume your very being. “Hard to sleep with someone messing around in my pants.” 

The Ghoul chuckled. “Well let’s fix that then.” 

And suddenly his hands were slipping away. 

You felt your eyes open at the loss of him. Hadn’t even realized they were still closed until that moment. You had gone to protest. Reaching out in the darkness to try and stop him from leaving. But he hadn’t gone far. He had moved you to lay fully onto your back before you could really react. Your pants and underwear removed by him in an instant. Lost to the dark depth of your room's floor. Not to be seen again until morning light. 

The Ghoul loomed over you. Eyes amused, and hands gripping your thighs. He spreads your legs out for himself wide. Exposing your arosural bare before his gaze into the open room. Fitting himself comfortably in between. Almost like there was nowhere else he belonged in the world. Ready to devour you whole. 

And what was worse is that you’d gladly let him do so too. 

“Fucking filthy thing you are.” He had whistled as he looked down at the debauched display he had made of you already. Fingers moving below to run along your dripping lips. Sending another shiver of pleasure up your spine. “You’re soaking and yet I’ve barely done a thing.” 

You couldn’t help but squirm a bit beneath him. He hadn’t bothered to remove any of his own clothes, save for the jacket and gloves he must have tossed somewhere in your room. He never really did remove his clothes when fucked you. Couldn’t remember anytime you had even seen him without a shirt. 

At first you thought he had been shy over his predicament. He wouldn’t have been the first ghoul you met to have struggled with the change after all. But that had been a foolish thought, because Cooper Howard wasn’t ever shy. It was just another thing he couldn’t be bothered with. 

It wasn’t worth it to him to remove, simply put. Probably even still had his boots on at the moment. Trucking sand and only god knows what into your bed. You’d usually lecture him for it. But like with many things tonight, he wouldn’t give you the chance. 

Before you knew it he had leaned down to put his mouth on you. Sucking at your clit. Lips and tongue working you in all the right places. Fingers gripping your thighs to keep you open for him. Devouring you whole, almost like he had been starved for days. 

It didn’t take much of this for you to be brought to that edge. It had been so long since you last saw him—last had him—and his skillful tongue had your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your one hand fisting the sheets below while the other reached for his scarred head. Pulling him in impossibly close. Trying to keep him there. But true to his nature just as you felt those sparks begin to fly he stopped. Lips leaving you and letting your pleasure fall. Hot breath only fanning over your soaked folds. 

He did this often. Riled you up to the point of breaking. Allowing your pleasure to grow high before sending it crashing down again suddenly. Denying that bliss you always found yourself so desperate for when with him. 

Most nights you were brought to tears by it. Begging him to let you have that sweet release. Frustration with his teasing at its peak. Tonight you did not beg or plead though, not yet at least, instead you sat up to lean onto your elbows. Insult for him at the tip of your tongue, ready to lecture him for all he was worth, but any complaint you had quickly died in your throat.

 The Ghoul had bit your thigh. Hard. Whether to silence you, or just because he wanted to, you didn’t know. You just gasped. Trying to pull away, though his hands remained firm. Fingers digging into your skin almost too harshly and holding you in place. Only finally pulling back just enough to swipe his tongue over the mark he left. 

You had winced from the pain, the mark aching, but despite it your arousal only seemed to course through you still. Stronger even. “That was just mean.”

“You like when I’m mean.” He smirked as he sat up again to overlook you. Your blood still staining his lips. “Besides, you’re supposed to be sleeping. Remember?” 

“Yeah and who’s fault is it that I’m not?” 

“No idea what you mean sweetheart.” The Ghoul had let go of your legs then. Leaning back onto his knees to free himself. Belt unbuckling to pull out his aching cock. Squeezing himself briefly before guiding it to your drenched hole. Teasing at your folds.  “Just here enjoying what was given to me after all.” 

It was quick the way he entered. No ceremony or grace. No time to say another single word between you two. Barely gave time for you to gasp again. Sending a shock through your system. He didn’t wait. Thrusts downright filthy as he took you all for himself. Both of your moans and heated breaths filling the room. The air suddenly feeling suffocating and hot. 

Your hands had gripped at his forearms, hoping to ground yourself and failing miserably, all while his own fingers dug into your hips. You tried to meet his own cruel thrusts, but the rhythm he had set  was unrelenting. Pleasure all too consuming. He was right. You liked when he was mean. Liked how rough he was—enjoying how he just took and took from you. He filled you in ways that you knew ruined you for anyone else. And yet still you loved it all so very much. 

You were getting close again. Could feel your peak just at the horizon. Waiting to burst. You moved your hand. Fingers desperate to finally bring yourself that last bit of pleasure to send you over the edge that you’ve desired all night. The one he’s been denying you all evening. But of course he notices immediately. Knocking your hand away before you get any chance. 

“Not yet.” 

You all but whine at his words. Almost pathetically so. Tears finally prickling at the corner of your eyes from being denied by him once again. “Cooper.” 

“You know the rules.” He thrusts a little more roughly as if to punish you. A warning. “You take what I give you.” 

“Please.” 

“Look at you, the mess you are.” He groans out at your begging. Eyes burning hot with desire. Thrusts still unwavering.  “You’d let me do whatever I want to you if it meant I fucked you, wouldn’t you?” 

He had chuckled as you could only seem to nod. Clinging to him. Any kind of words from your lips caught between gasps and moans. You were so overwhelmed. The air was too hot. Everything felt too much but too little at the same time. And it was all because of him. The Ghoul who seemed all too good at taking you apart piece by piece. The mess you were was his fault, and he knew it—reveled in it.

 You could never seem to get enough of him, and he knew it too. He could give you everything or nothing, and you’d still thank him for each little bit of it. He was the same. Even if he would never admit it. He always needed more of you. Both of you were addicted to the other. Needed to feel him just like he needed to feel you. Like a chem neither of you could shake. Didn’t want to shake. 

Cooper’s thrusts had begun to grow sloppy now. His breathing more ragged. Hands squeezing your hips so tightly you were sure to bruise by morning. Your head was swimming. Drowning in the pleasure and losing it in the feeling of him. Mind too far gone to think of anything else. A mere mess of moans and gasps, as tears streamed down your cheeks. So close to unraveling at the seams for him. All just for him. 

When he reached his end he didn’t give you any kind of warning save for a low moaned fuck. Making sure to thrust into you deeply. As far as he could go. His cum filling you to the brim as he did. It was only then when his fingers found your clit again. Rubbing the nub in harsh brutal circles that finally sent you crashing over as well. Ripping your orgasm from your body like he was owed nothing less. 

“There you are, take all of me.” He groaned out as you squeezed and clenched around him. Breathless. Eyes watching how you came undone. Making sure to take in every bit of you that he could as you lost it beneath him. “Come for me darlin’.” 

Your nerves felt on edge as the pleasure wrecked through your system. Body shaking while you could only seem to cling to him tighter. Hands fisted into his shirt and your legs squeezing around his hips, trapping his form to yours all while riding out your orgasm. 

It wouldn’t be until the high began to dwindle where your mind would begin to clear again. A gentle throb at your core. Your body relaxed in his arms, limbs growing heavy, and breath beginning to return. The night's air starting to feel cool against your heated skin. 

He hadn’t pulled out yet. Just stayed inside with the mess he made, as you both came down from your pleasure. Your oversensitive walls still clinging to his softening cock despite how completely wrecked you felt. Eventually you had almost felt sticky laying there—covered in your own sweat and grim. You tried to move away. Trying to free yourself from his grasp, but the hand he still had on your hip stopped you. Squeezing gently. 

“Cooper-” You had begun to question him, eyes fluttering open and looking to Ghoul who still hovered above, but found yourself unable to finish when you finally met his gaze. Breath and words caught in your throat all over again. 

Intense. Soft. There was a strange feeling that swarmed there in his eyes. Something you weren’t quite used to seeing from him. Something you just couldn’t place. It surprised you when he leaned in. Made your heart flutter—stomach flip—as his lips found yours. 

The Ghoul rarely kissed you, and when he did it was rough. All teeth and bite, just like everything else about him, but this kiss wasn’t anything like that. There was an odd softness to it. So gentle, and unlike anything you had ever shared with him before, but it was good all the same. Left your heart feeling like it was going to fall out of your chest right then and there.  

 It had all been fleeting though. That fluttering feeling. That sweet kiss. Lips pressed to yours only for a moment before they were gone again. Like it had never happened in the first place. Just another piece of memories from him to add to your imagination. Never to be addressed. 

There wasn’t a word spoken between you as he finally pulled out from your sensitive walls. The touch of his body—his hands—leaving you, as he moved to settle at your side again. He didn’t look your way, but you couldn’t help lull your head over to gaze at him. Still stuck in that dreamlike feeling. Watching. Quiet as he leaned over the bedside to rummage around in his bag. Pulling out the vials you had seen him take so many times by now. 

You still hadn’t a clue to what they were really. Knew it kept him from going feral, but beyond that you knew nothing. Which is how he liked things typically. He never told you too much. That’s just what it was always like between you two. You hadn’t even known his name till quite recently. 

It was during one of the last few times he had visited, if you recalled. Between moans and bated breaths. Pleasure so close to reaching its peak when he first told it. Cooper. You still remember how desperate he sounded. Caught off guard by the unfamiliar tone from the Ghoul you were beginning to know so well.  Name’s Cooper darlin’. And you’d never forget the way he practically crumbled to pieces as you said the name back. Soul exposed to you in ways you never thought possible with him. 

Honestly, you didn’t even think he had a soul until that moment. 

The Ghoul hadn’t been back for months after that night. For reasons you could only guess at. There was a point where you didn’t think he’d ever be back to seek you out again. But of course he was always full of surprises. Almost half a year passed until you saw him again at your doorstep. Acting as if nothing had happened since last, like he hadn’t been gone far longer then he ever had before. Familiar bite and taunting words greeting you fondly. All back to his normal self—or what was normal of him to you at least. 

“Cooper?” 

He inhales the chem. Doesn’t pay you any mind in the slightest. Which is fine. Doesn’t stop yourself from shifting closer to him. Allowing for one of your hands to trail up his chest. You feel him pausing briefly at your touch, and your eyes meet his as he glances your way. He’s unreadable as he gazes at you, hazel eyes holding yours for a mere second, before they’re focusing back to his life saving vials. 

He doesn’t go to stop you though, so you take the chance to tuck yourself into his side. Head resting on his chest. Your eyes feeling heavy once more as you do. But still you don’t sleep yet. Not when you know how little time you have left with the Ghoul. So instead your fingers draw shapes over him, and play with the button of his shirt he still never bothered to remove. 

“Thought I told you to fuckin’ sleep.” His voice brings you away from your thoughts, as he finishes up with his chem. Sounding almost annoyed, probably was, he’s not one for showing much bouts of affection after all. Doesn’t even really like when you’re clingy either. But somehow that still doesn’t stop his free arm winding itself around your waist. Holding you close.  

“Cooper…” 

“Sleep.” The Ghoul’s voice had been quiet but firm. He had pulled his hat from the bedpost to wear again, tugging it to rest over his closing eyes. “Some of us got shit to do in the morning.” 

You didn’t bother to point out how he had been the one disturbing you up till this moment. There was no point in arguing with him though. He wouldn’t listen—a stubborn bastard through and through. 

Not that you could find a good reason to do so anyway. Especially not with how your eyes kept trying to flutter shut, or how comforting it felt laying there in his arms. Listening to his breathing. His very subtle heartbeat somehow loud to your ears. 

When sleep finally took you it would be peaceful for once. Something about knowing the Ghoul was there made you feel calm. Even though you knew that it should have been the opposite. He was deadly. Could kill you in a second. But somehow that hadn’t bothered you in the slightest. Not anymore, at least. Instead it made you feel at ease.

 Safe.

The sun would be barely rising as you woke to the early light. Gentle rays illuminating your small room in a warm orange glow. You had stretched, yawning, before naturally going to feel for the Ghoul that had invaded your home last night. His spot had been empty, of course, long grown cold now that he didn’t occupy its space. 

He never stayed for long. Any night he spent with you he was always gone before you ever had the chance of waking. It’s just how he was. How things were meant to be between you two. You had understood since the very beginning, all those years ago when first taking him into your bed. 

And yet still your fingers ran over the spot. An ache settling in your heart. You knew there was no reason to be sentimental. There was no reason to miss something that wasn’t truly yours. But there was a part of you that did. A piece of you that wanted more than this—wanted what you couldn’t truly have for yourself. 

The Ghoul, Cooper Howrad. You wanted him. More than just for sex. His heart, his soul. You wanted it all. Every piece of him. Craved it even. More than you ever desired something in your entire life. That thought of being his, and him being yours rattling around in that silly little heart of yours. 

He’d never allow it. 

Sighing, you pulled your hand away from his spot and sat up. Wincing. You had almost forgotten about it. The bite mark he left on your thigh still painful. Carefully you looked it over. He hadn’t taken a chunk out of you. Thankfully. Just left you looking like some sort of chew toy like he usually did. 

It wasn’t worth a stimpak. Not like you’d ever consider using one anyway for such a minor injury. It would be a waste otherwise, and being wasteful out here meant death even on a good day. 

Sometimes you wondered if that was why he marked you up so much. As if he knew you wouldn’t bother to heal them so quickly. You wondered if he enjoyed knowing that your body carried signs of him for days. Bites and bruises like some sort of possessive claim. Every mark from him a reminder of just who exactly had left them there in the first place. 

You doubted it all the same though, he probably just thought it was fun to bite and mark you up. Probably did it to everyone he spent the night with. You were sure there were others. Even if he’s never said so, you weren’t dumb enough to think otherwise, as sad as it made you to think about sometimes. 

Leaving bed, your morning would end up being the same as any other. You’d get yourself ready, tidy up the room, and eat what little food you had. After you’d work the day away. Maybe even head into town for a little bit before heading back home. The simple mundane routine so natural to you now that it went about like clockwork. Doing what you needed to survive before the sun would fall again. The moon taking its place easily in a sky painted by shining stars. 

And as you’d lay in bed once more. You’d look out to the wasteland through those cracks in the boarded window. Wondering if he’d show, eyes searching for any kind of sign of him. Waiting—hoping—for the Ghoul to arrive again. 

But of course, he wouldn’t.

#the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard smut #fallout smut #fallout #reader insert #the ghoul #cooper howard #my fics #fallout show #fallout tv series #fallout fanfic

[heavenlyhischier]

untitled | rafe cameron

word count: 3.4k

warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT— smut, fingering, oral (male receiving), slight degradation, God and church are mentioned, unprotected sex (use protection my friends), praise kink maybe, spanking, hair pulling

note: 90% smut. 10% plot. the way i’m attracted to this man is insane. i’m obsessed w him. loosely inspired by Church by Chase Atlantic.

The relationship you had with Rafe Cameron was anything but complicated. The two of you would see each other at a party, or a two a.m. “you up?” text was sent, and you would end the night in your bed with evidence of the night between your thighs. It wasn’t anything more than sex, and the both of you were okay with it. Neither of you had room for a relationship in your lives, and you’re not entirely sure a relationship is something you would want with someone like him. He comes with a lot of baggage that you know he’s not to blame for, but you also know it wasn’t something you were equipped to handle.

Instead, you get to have some of the best parts of him, and he gets to have some of the best parts of you with absolutely no strings attached. Well, maybe there were a few strings. You and Rafe often danced over the metaphorical line and into domestic territory. He would give you random kisses, ensure your aftercare was nothing short of stellar, shower with you, and sometimes he would even stay the night with you. You weren’t entirely innocent, either. You found yourself wearing just his shirt around your apartment whether he was there or not, and there were times where you caught yourself smiling too widely at your phone when his name appeared on the screen. Yet, despite these things, you knew that in the end, the two of you would cross back over the line and fall back into your own normalcy.

Last night was one of the times that Rafe had asked to stay over after your nightly activities, and you never told him no. You always caved in to his wants and desires, and his request to sleep in your bed was never a privilege you were going to deny yourself of. Despite your relationship being based off pure, unadulterated lust, you found a sort of warm comfort when you woke up with your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you. The physical contact was nice, and it made you feel far less lonely than when you woke up in a cold and empty bed.

The crisp autumn air wafted into your apartment through the open window, hitting your exposed thighs as you made your coffee. Turning to go into the living room, you caught a glimpse of your overturned dining chairs and memories of last night's events flooded your mind at once. Images of Rafe bending you over that very table left your cheeks burning and the knot in your stomach tightening as you settled into a spot on the couch.

The sun shone through the breaks in the curtain, the soft light decorating your living room in a way that covered your scattered trinkets in a golden hue. Despite the late night, you still found yourself slipping out of Rafe’s arms fairly early in the morning. Your sore legs had wobbled as you left him to sleep, his soft and quiet snores getting quieter the further away you got from him. Now, as you sat in the comforting silence, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the naked man in your bed.

About an hour later, you had just finished picking up the remnants of last night when you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. It was sickeningly domestic and familiar the way your lips turned upwards into a smile as he neared you. The way the mere sound of him had you smiling was pathetic, and often left you wondering if you could get over his immense emotional baggage and let yourself love him the way a small part of you wanted to. Though, the harsh reality of the Cameron family was not easily forgettable, and made it easy to draw yourself back from what could be.

“Thought you left me alone this morning,” He whispered, voice thick with sleep as his arms encased you against the kitchen counter.

You let out a delicate hum as you leaned into him, “Not today.”

“You look sexy wearing my shirt,” He rasped, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your body shuddered, eyes fluttering shut as you tilted your head back against his shoulder. His hips were pressed against your back, his bulge poking into your ass as his breath fanned against your neck. Your heartbeat quickened at the proximity, eager and ready for what was undoubtedly to be ahead of you. His hand slipped underneath your shirt, goosebumps following in the path of his long, slender fingers.

“Rafe, please,” You whimpered as his hand slipped into your underwear, teasing your core with the lightest touches.

“Please what,” He teased, his middle fingers sliding through the wetness in between your legs, “Use your words, baby. Beg for it.”

“Touch me. Please touch me,” Your voice was breathless and needy as your hips grinded against his finger, eager for any sort of friction to ease the tightening coil in your stomach.

He let out a puff of air against your neck in approval before sliding his finger inside of you; a mangled moan slipping through your lips as you screwed your eyes shut. His finger curled inside of you as his thumb found your clit, rubbing small and perfectly paced circles. His breathing was heavy in your ear, only adding to the pleasure coursing through your veins as he worked the digit inside of you.

“Think you could take another finger, princess,” He goaded, his voice deep and thick with desire as he watched you writhe beneath his touch.

Your response came out strangled and breathless as he quickened his pace, your mind going hazy and unclear as the ball in your stomach became tighter and warmer. Taking your lack of response as a response,

he slides in a second finger and you nearly collapse against him. His ring brushes against your skin, lighting the flesh on fire as he buries his fingers and curls them inside of you; your nearly pornagraphic moans bouncing off the walls around you.

The way your heart was thudding against your ribs and your eyes were rolled back in your head, it made you feel closer with Rafe than anything. He’s been the only person to ever get you off this way, and a part of you wanted him to be the only person to ever get you off. You’ve never been one to let a one night stand to finger you in your kitchen, but Rafe wasn’t a one night stand. He was much more than that.

Rafe Cameron knew your body better than he knew his own, and he knew exactly what to do in order to guide you to your release. You were squirming underneath him as his fingers continuously scraped against your g-spot, your cries filling his ears and fueling his already already stiff cock. While he’d never admit this out loud, getting you off with his fingers was the best way to get him hard and eager to fuck you into oblivion.

With the combination that was working between your legs, your release came quickly and was tearing through your body with white, searing hot heat. Stars dotted your vision as you rode his fingers, Rafe still scissoring and curling them inside you while your orgasmic screams echoed around him. His touch was becoming too much, your legs wobbling against him and your head becoming so dazed that you couldn’t think straight.

He yanked his hand out from your panties, leaving a trail of your wetness up your naval and across to your hip so that he could turn you around flush against his chest. Still dizzy and legs still shaking, your lips meet his with the most effort your hazy mind can muster up. Your teeth clash against his, the kiss sloppy and messy as you tangle your hands in his air, but it doesn’t last long until you’re at a need for air.

“God,” You gasped into his mouth, vision hazy and unclear as you tried to recover from the body shaking orgasm that was still rippling through you.

“I’m not God, baby, but I am about to take you back to church,” He whispered against your swollen lips, gaze taunting and lustful, “Now, on your knees, pretty girl.”

Your eyes widen, mouth dropping in awe as you slowly drop to your knees, Rafe’s hand finding place on the back of your neck the whole way down. He’s slightly tugging at the hair on the base of your neck, tilting your head upwards so that you were looking up at him. You knew he liked you in this position, with your hair in his hand, looking up at him like he owned you, almost entirely at his mercy. Though deep down, he knew that you were always at his beckoning no matter what, no matter when, no matter where.

“You always look so pretty on your knees,” He rasped, the grip on your hair tightening so that he could better angle your head, “But you look so much prettier with your mouth on my dick.”

“You sure know how to make a woman feel special,” You playfully mocked, eyes rolled as you looped your fingers into the waistband of his overly expensive boxers.

He roughly yanked your hair back, sending a sharp pain from your scalp to your fingertips as he chastised, “Don’t be an ungrateful brat.”

“I’m sorry,” You swallow thickly, pupils blown in innocence and fervor, the aching between your legs growing.

“‘I’m sorry—,’” He raises his eyebrows, teasing and taunting you in a way that only he could make look hot.

“I’m sorry, sir,” You finished as you slowly tugged the fabric down his toned legs, subtly rolling your eyes in a way that he couldn’t see.

His length sprang out from underneath its previous confinement, presenting itself right in front of your face. You peered up at him, a mixture of eagerness and haughtiness swimming in his eyes as he watched you spit in your palms. He threw his head back, a guttural groan passing through his lips as you took his length in your hands, gently squeezing and tugging, preparing yourself to take him in your mouth.

Flashing one more look up to his face, you focused on the task in hand, literally. Your thumb swirled around the precum that covered the tip of his dick, a string of euphoric whimpers escaping the man above you. Just like Rafe with you, you knew his body, its tells, its likes and dislikes, like they were your own, and you knew exactly what to do in order to get him off properly.

Licking a teasing strip from the base of his cock to the tip, you feel his body shudder underneath the hand you’re using for support. You’re taunting him, taking your time and making slow, calculated movements that left him jerking his hips towards your face. Obscene words flew from his mouth as your grip tightened, and your lips hovered over the throbbing length in your hands.

Finally, your mouth wrapped around his tip and you let out a hollow hum that reverberated against his hard-on, eliciting a slew of mangled breaths and moans before he was pushing your head down onto his entire length. His tip is hitting the back of your throat, tears pricking your eyes as you gag against him. Your cheeks are hollowed as he thrusts into your mouth, the grip on your hair tight and unrelenting as he guides your head himself.

“Fuck, baby,” He groans, “You’re doing so good. Taking me in your mouth like the slut you are, yeah?”

You glance up at him through the water clouding your vision, and the sight above you makes your core throb. His head is thrown back, eyes screwed shut in nothing short of pure ecstasy as your head bobs against him. Your tongue is flat against his cock, your hand still grasping what couldn’t fit in your mouth as you worked him to his release. Despite Rafe’s dominant nature showing with his need to set the pace, you still knew exactly what to do to send him tumbling over the edge.

“Keep doing that,” He encouraged, his breathing shallow and desperate as his grip on you faltered, “Jesus Christ. Don’t stop.”

Your dropped your hand that was grasping his length and placed both of them on his thighs so that you were able to gain more control and suck around him in a way you couldn’t without balance. His thrusts into your mouth grew tired and sloppy, but your movements were unyielding and merciless. It wasn’t long until he was shooting ropes of his hot, thick cum into your mouth; his hand keeping your mouth against his cock as he came undone.

He’s pulling himself out of your mouth, a string of saliva mixed with cum trailing between the two of

you. Rafe’s breathing is heavy as he watches you swallow what was left in your mouth, his eyes never leaving your own before he’s yanking you up off the floor. He slams his mouth against your own, kissing you with force and with enough passion to have you grasping his biceps to keep yourself steady. He’s gripping the back of your thighs, silently signaling you to wrap them around his waist so he can take you wherever he’d like.

Your mouths on his neck, sucking and biting at the exposed skin as he’s walking you to your room. He gives you a less than gentle slap to your ass when you bite too hard, but you don’t stop. You wanted to leave a deep, purple bruise marking him as yours, even though he wasn’t really. Barely having separated your mouth from his neck, he was throwing you onto the unmade bed.

“Take your clothes off,” He demanded, standing at the foot of the bed, and it was only then did you realize that he hadn’t put his boxers back on.

He was bearing every inch of his body to you, and there was no stopping yourself from dragging your eyes all across his body. Rafe was truly built as if someone had sculpted him for the Gods with his toned muscles and lengthy limbs. He never failed to make your mouth water, and your core shamelessly yearn for his touch, for his cock. It was pathetic really, just how badly you needed him, but you were long past the point of return, and you fell into the desire head first.

“Baby,” His voice is quite and careful now as his knees fall onto the bed so he’s hovering over you. He’s using one hand to support his weight while the other is cupping your chin, his thumb and forefinger pressed to your cheeks, “I said take your clothes off, not stare. Now, be a good girl and take. Your. Clothes. Off.”

His fingers press deeper into your flesh as he’s enunciating the words with a force that had your thighs clenching together. With your eyes wide, you submissively nod your head and he’s rolling off you after that. You nearly whine at the loss of contact, but you’re ripping your clothes off at record speed so that you could feel him again. With your clothes off, he’s hovering back over you with nothing but greedy desire swimming in his eyes.

“You’re so ready for me, aren’t you baby,” He whispers into your ear, his hand gliding up the inside of your thigh, “You’re just a needy little whore.”

“Only for you,” You breath out, trailing your fingers across his toned abdomen.

He threw his head back, his laughter reverberating around you as he said, “Oh, I know.”

His fingers are plunging into your heat without warning, and you let out a startled yell at the sudden stretch and feeling. He’s cupping the back of your head with his free hand, tilting it backwards so that he could cover your mouth with his own in a sloppy kiss. You’re moaning into his mouth, grasping at his arm and back as he relentlessly fingers you, vison blurring and head clouding with nothing but the man next to you.

“Tell me what you want,” He rasped as his pace slowed, but the thumb drawing circles on your clit did not, “C’mon, baby. Treat me like a priest. Confess all those dirty thoughts I know are swimming in that pretty little head of yours. Give me your worst, princess.”

A string of unintelligible words fell from your lips in between the salacious moans that were bouncing off your walls. You could barely think straight as his fingers curled inside of you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He called out your name, goading your response.

“— Just fuck me, Rafe,” You begged, mind hazy as any other coherent thought left your mind, “Just need you to fuck me.”

“That I can do,” He lightly chuckled, pulling his fingers out of you.

Your walls clench around nothing as you let out a quiet whimper, watching as he moves around on the bed. He carefully grabs your shoulders and shifts your body up higher on the bed so your feet weren’t hanging off the end anymore, and then his entire body is encasing yours against your mattress. You could feel his dick pressed into your thigh as his eyes danced across your face, admiring the way your cheeks were flushed and hair was still untamed from the night before.

What he did next took you by surprise, yet you leaned into it all the way without a second thought. His lips are on yours, tender and soft as he kisses you like he never has before. His hands cupping your cheek in his hand, thumb gently stroking your cheek as his tongue slips into your mouth. You sigh into his mouth as you pull him into you by his neck. Its full of passion and a feeling that you would mistake as love if you didn’t know better.

Without warning or breaking the fervent kiss, he slams himself inside of you. You throw your head back into the pillow, crying out in intense pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt. Rafe’s soft grunts fill your ears as he pulls himself back before snapping his hips into yours, his cock stretching you in a way that burned just a little, but it was a sensation you welcomed with open arms.

Wet, sticky sounds filled the room as he moved himself in and out of you, and it was like the fucking symphony was playing in Rafe’s ears. He loved hearing your voice, but he loved hearing your writhing, desperate moans more. Your nails were scraping against the tanned skin of his back as you explored the expanse of the skin in search of something to ground yourself to. Your moans were loud and shaky as he fucked into you deeper, harder than anyone ever had before. Of course, you’d had sex with Rafe before, but with him, it was always different.

“You’re doing so good, princess,” He grumbled, his head falling into the crook of your neck, “You’re taking my cock so good.”

“Rafe— Oh my god,” You mewled, wanton moans echoing around him with each thrust into you.

All of a sudden, he’s pulling himself all the way out of you and flipping your body over without effort. He grips your hips so roughly that you’re certain you’ll have fingerprint shaped bruises their later, but you didn’t mind as he’s hoisting your ass into the air. Your face is shoved into the mattress, yet you could still hear him adjusting himself behind you before he’s roughly slamming into you again.

Your hands are gripping the sheet, your eyes rolling as he fucks into you so deeply that you black out for a brief moment. Rafe’s hand sharply slaps your ass, pain mixed with pleasure shooting through your body as his cock scrapes against the part of you that only he could ever reach. A moment later, he’s gripping your hair in a makeshift ponytail so he could yank your head up and better hear your lewd moans.

“Fuck,” He groans as you clench yourself around him, “Keep doing that and I won’t last much longer.”

Rafe’s hand slides to your clit, and you swear your soul left your body when he began to rub circles against it. The knot in your stomach is becoming so tight that you knew it was about to burst any second, and he knew it too. He watched as your hips stuttered against his own and your fingers were grasping at the fabrics like you were going to float away, and that’s how he knew you were close.

You feel him press his chest into your back and he continues pounding into you, and he mumbles a mangled, “Cum for me, princess.”

With his cock still thrusting into you, your orgasm is jolting through your body, leaving you breathless and aching. You barely feel him pull you against his chest as your body writhes against him, your mind cloudy and grasping to the feeling that was coursing through your veins. Rafe’s thrust are becoming messy and slow as he reaches his own release, and it comes quick as you feel the warm, sticky liquid fill inside of you. His hips snap against you involuntarily as he rides out his high, his hand cupping your breast as he pants behind you.

You fall forward into the bed, your legs limp and pussy aching from him splitting you open and pounding into you without mercy. You feel the bed dip and then hear

his footsteps retreating towards the bathroom, but he reappears as quick as he’d left. He takes the towel and gently cleans between your legs, his eyes never leaving your face. He always loved the way you looked after he’d throughly fucked you; your face tired yet pleased all the same.

He’s tossing the towel to the side, taking the spot next to you before he lets three words slip out of his swollen lips, “I love you.”

What. The. Fuck.

the ending kinda sucks but there will not be a part two!! what happens after is up to your imagination ;)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #obx

[asvterias]

𝖯𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖡𝗈𝗒 ~ 𝖩𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌

Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings: Jealousy & Allusions to Sex/Sexual Thoughts

Pairings: (FWB) Jaime Reyes x (FWB) Black!Fem!Reader, Best Friend!Milagro x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Being friends with benefits with Jamie is hard to keep undercover, in hopes of Milagro never finding out. The number #1 rule is to be strictly sexual and not explore romantic feelings for the other. What happens when that rule is broken?

Word Count: 2.5k+

Tag List: @drqcrys @mageneire @websterss @pxachy-tea @moralesszz @odiesdayoff @allthingsvicf @tinkerbelle05 @alienstardust @lemonyboy97 @alastorhazbin @writing-fanics @veronicarose20 @conicoroahre @gay-dorito-dust @presidentbarbieirl @kayla2233454-blog @sodacatz @n7cje

Author’s Note: Watched the Blue Beetle movie recently and I was hooked on Jaime Reyes. This is my first time writing for Jaime Reyes, so he might be a little out of character but hopefully you like it!

Spanish Translations

“Por qué me estás mintiendo, Jaime?” — “Why are you lying to me, Jaime?”

Sneaking around can be full of excitement alongside the adrenaline of the whole ordeal. You and Jaime were secretly fooling around, being extremely cautious around his sister who was also your best friend. You didn’t even know how you ended up in this complicated relationship with Jaime Reyes. It started with two people under the influence of alcohol, both with the straightforward intention of getting laid and it ended with a confused hangover and a hurried conversation of forgetting about the whole affair.

At first, you two had avoided each other like the plague, sometimes accidentally crossing paths whenever you visited the Reyes residence or from basic errands that needed to be fulfilled.

Then the longer you two distanced yourselves from each other, the more agonizing it felt for the both of you. One day, Jaime snapped which led up to you two heading to bed for a passionate night. The morning after having sex, you two discussed your unofficial relationship and coming to terms with being friends with benefits and nothing more than that.

It was a simple and easy rule to follow, right? Wrong! How very wrong that you were! Too bad that you were breaking the rule. How could you not fall in love with him? With those beautiful doe dark brown eyes, his long curly hair, and his alluring personality, not to mention being completely star-struck when riding his di—

Oh, his voice…him speaking Spanish to you while in the most intimate positions has you craving for more.

You always missed the comfort of his arms at night as you watched him get dressed and leave, heading back home to avoid suspicion from his family. If Jaime’s family ever caught wind that he was not technically single, they would go ballistic, eager to meet the person and neither of you wanted that unnecessary attention.

It was finally official, you certainly loathed mornings, especially when Jaime spent the nights before. There were rare moments when he’d be able to stay the night with you. Luckily for you, today was one of those rare days.

Normally, he would claim that he’s the big spoon, but his sleepy smile widens when you’re the big spoon instead. His favorite sleeping position is lying on top of the softness of your breasts. Sometimes he would wake up face first right in the plushness of your breasts, that was always a good way to start the morning, wasn’t it? Your hands would subconsciously tangle themselves through his thick curly hair, softly massaging his scalp, sending him into a peaceful sleep.

You stirred yourself awake, no longer feeling the presence of Jaime lying on top of you. You tiredly stretched out your limbs, wincing at the soreness from your breasts down to your mid-thighs. Jaime certainly wore you out last night.

Very faintly, you heard the quiet shuffling and muttering of words. Regretfully, you slowly open your eyes, your eyelids still heavy as you rub the sleep out of them.

“Hmm…morning Jaime.” You yawn, scratching your braids through the satin red bonnet.

“Did I wake you?” He mutters walking over, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, and continuing the search for his belongings. You assumed that he just came out of the shower. He wore a towel around his waist, dripping wet, glistening over his abs and that sight made you think unholy things. There was no way that you were still thirsty for him. Come on, you’re still recovering from last night and you were greedy for more the following morning?! Have some self-control, for once!

You shook your head, disposing of the lustful thoughts. “Wanna stay for breakfast?” You suggest, nervously gnawing on your lower lip.

“I would love to, but I have to quickly run an errand for my mami and then head over to work with Jenny.” He dried himself off, putting on a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

He opened your closet, digging out his ironed suit that you prepared a few days ago.

“When are you off this week?”

“Today and Sunday are my only days off this week.” You inform him, watching him get dressed, “I could run the errand with Mrs. Reyes, so you’ll get a balanced breakfast before heading to work.”

“Oh, really thanks (Y/N).”

“Anytime, pretty boy.” You reply, taking your bonnet off. Jaime blushes at the nickname, feeling giddy whenever you use that phrase. “What time do I need to leave?”

“About a quarter past eight..” He murmurs observing his watch.

“Speak English, please.”

“It’s 8:15 and my mami needs to leave around 9:30.” He advises, looking at your vanity. “Where’s my necklace?” He turns to you.

“You have to come get it..” You tease, wiggling the piece of jewelry in your hand. He chuckles at your playful yet seductive tone.

Crawling to you across the bed, he gives you a soft kiss making you caress his face. The slow sensual kiss lasted a few seconds, and even though you wanted to stay in the loving moment, air had become difficult to maintain, both of you pulling away from the kiss. You flutter your eyes open, catching him staring into your eyes with a hidden glint that makes you flush, which makes those butterflies run wild in your stomach.

“Come here, I’ll help you put on your tie.” You offer, shuffling towards the edge of the bed.

He sighs, allowing you to fix the tie underneath his collar. Your faces were so close that you could have fainted right then and there, completely embarrassing yourself on the spot. You started to worry, wondering if he felt you staring at him. Turns out, he was admiring you and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Once you finished his tie, you cleared your throat and smoothed over his suit, straightening out invisible wrinkles.

The Mexican boy faces you again. “What time do you get off on Saturday?”

“Probably by 10 or 11 pm.”

“Perfect! I’ll see you Saturday night.” He promises, giving you a reassuring nod.

“Yeah,” You agree with a lovesick smile on your face, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

You handed him the necklace but he stopped you, “Keep it, it looks better on you anyway.”

You tilt your head to the side, feeling yourself tingle with goosebumps as he appears from behind you and he gently brushes your braids away. You gathered your braids together, bunching them up into a messy makeshift ponytail, giving Jaime area to put the necklace on. Once he clasps the jewelry on your neck, you release your braids as you grin at him.

Smiling sweetly in response, he steals one last kiss from you and hurriedly leaves, shutting the front door. Even though you two were friends with benefits, he still was the kind and sweet man that you knew all those years ago.

You sigh, lingering your fingers on the necklace, fawning over the mere kiss that he shared with you. It was an empty kiss so it should be treated as meaningless, but it hurts your heart for you to wish otherwise.

Later that evening, Milagro helped you pick out an outfit for your blind date. Jaime tagged along with Milagro, under the impression of wanting privacy from his family.

You and Milagro picked out a nice evening dress, concluding that it was the perfect dress.

“You look so sexy in this.” Milagro squeals, momentarily catching Jaime’s attention. His eyes shift from his sister to yours, scanning the outfit that you are wearing, shamelessly checking you out. You did a little twirl to display the entirety of the dress, your eyes solely locked on Jaime to figure out his reaction. She was right, you looked so sexy in the dress. Maybe too sexy for another guy.

He noticed the mischievousness in your body language and decided that two could play that game.

“So…” Jaime ponders, lightly gritting his teeth, using his phone as a distraction, “What do you know about this guy?” His question was directed to you, attempting to conceal his jealousy. Slow and steady wins the race.

You turned to Milagro who spoke for you, “Duh, dummy, we don’t know who it is, that's why it’s called a blind date.”

“Wait! You’ve never even met this person before?” His eyes widened in surprise, processing the newfound information.

“Jaime, are you slow or something?” His sister asks. She rolled her eyes and continuously tapped her forehead, “Think, dear brother. Just think.”

He fakes grins at his sister and looks back at you. “It could be dangerous for you.”

“Okay, and I have a taser in my purse if anything goes wrong. I can take care of myself.”

“Why are you so interested in my best friend’s love life all of a sudden?”

“Just looking out for her.” He mumbles.

“Hmmm…” She sounds skeptical, surprisingly trusting her brother’s word.

All of a sudden, Milagro’s phone rings, indicating that her pizza order is ready. “I’m gonna pick up the pizza. Be back in 30 minutes.” She grabs your car keys and her wallet, leaving the apartment.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Jaime spoke his concerns for you.

“So…you’re going out with someone else.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then you should also know that I’m going out with someone else.” He boasts proudly with a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh, really?” You bite the inside of your cheek as jealousy boils through your veins at the thought of Jaime seeing someone else. Surprisingly, you managed to keep your jealousy at bay, refusing to let Jaime have the upper hand here.

You realized what he was doing, and he wasn’t going to win. It was so obvious that he was lying to you. So he decided to stretch the lie, just to witness your breaking point, “Her name is Maria Gonzalez, her family just moved to the neighborhood and we hit it off great. I also have her number.”

You remained nonchalant, continuing your mascara on your left eye, “Okay…good for you then?”

“That’s all you have to say?” He scoffs, folding his arms.

“Well, what do you want me to say? You want me to act jealous and forbid you from seeing this other girl?” You click your tongue, “Now that you mention it, no new family is moving into your neighborhood otherwise Mrs. Reyes would have told me, and I would have offered to decorate welcoming baskets with her and Milagro.”

Shit! You caught him in his lie. His eyes widened in surprise at your quick response to his lie.

As a matter of fact, he was more proud than scared of your realization of his lie. Your intelligence and ability to understand between the lines were one of the many traits that he loved about you. Intelligence is the glue that holds it all together, not that there aren’t many more characteristics from you that he adored. He would never put any other characteristic above the other, harboring his mutual love for all of them. After all, you attended Harvard, majoring in nursing, and left with multiple degrees.

“Por qué me estás mintiendo, Jaime?” You looked at him through the mirror with a pointed look.

Switching back and forth between English and Spanish daily was a neat trick that you mastered with ease. To be honest, Spanish was a beautiful language, and you just wanted to experience the full meaning of it.

You learned Spanish for your best friend and her family, wanting to connect with them on a personal level. At this point, you became fluent in Spanish and could hold decent conversations with the Reyes family in their native language. The Reyes family even made jokes that you would someday marry a Latino.

“I don’t know..” he shrugs his shoulders, “Maybe…I’m just confused right now.”

“May I remind you that you wanted us to be a casual fuck from time to time, and besides we also agreed on seeing other people.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Yeah, but what? You want to change your mind now?”

“Actually, I do.”

You paused from doing your mascara, making eye contact in the mirror with him. Of course, you weren’t expecting that answer. His statement rendered you speechless, allowing the silence to overtake the room. You gulped silently, intently watching him stalk toward you, almost in a patronizing manner to tease you even further. You were frozen, unaware of what he might do to you and it somewhat turned you on. The small thud of the mascara tube dropping on the vanity brought you back to your senses.

“…We shouldn’t do this, Jaime.” You lightly warn the boy. Jaime remains silent, making you consistently aware that he is gorgeously checking you out from behind. He made you so flustered to the point that you were stupidly smitten with him that it was almost ridiculous. It was a miracle that you couldn’t see a black girl’s blush.

“Milagro‘s gonna be back soon.” Your tone was soft.

The air was still tense as he nodded, his eyes still intently focused on your physique. Nervously, you began to play with your braids as your body squirmed under his gaze. The things that Jamie made you feel were out of this world. You held your breath, dilated dark brown eyes studying his every move that he made. It was the familiar gust of his infamous cologne that gave his sudden presence away, noticing his breathing was lingering on you. You shudder, minor goosebumps forming on your arms.

“Then, we just have to be quick, don’t we?” You swear that you could’ve felt his hard dick straining against his pants.

“Listen here Jaime—“ You were cut off by his hands roughly wrapping around your throat, raising your head, catching an upside down angle of the 22-year-old. A warm pair of lips was planted onto yours, reclaiming full jealousy as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. In a matter of seconds, the inviting kiss escalated into sexual tension, quickly heating the aura of the bedroom.

likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© asvterias, 2023. please do not plagiarize any of my works.

#blue beetle 2023 #jaime reyes #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes smut #jaime reyes x black!reader #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes x black!fem!reader #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle x fem!reader #blue beetle smut #blue beetle imagine #blue beetle fanfic

[tlou-reid]

Wine-Tainted Water ❤︎ Spencer Reid

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: after a night out with their team, spencer and his lover take a bath together. based on one line of dress by taylor swift.

♡ WARNINGS: alcohol, reader and spencer are drunk, grossly cute fluff, not edited and in all lowercase

♡ NOTE: this is probably my favorite thing i've ever written

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“i’m spilling wine in the bathtub. you kiss my face and we’re both drunk. everyone thinks that they know us. but they know nothing…”

you were too drunk to understand how the rest of the team didn’t see you and spencer sneak into the same uber. you were sure spencer would also question how you two got away with it, if it were something he was bothered to consider. but, right here with you, the rest of the team was the last thing on his mind.

despite his knees being pressed almost all the way to his chest and his arms being haphazardly thrown over the side of the tub, there was no other position he’d want to be in right now.

you were laughing at something he said—that much he knew. your face was scrunched up and your smile was probably the biggest he’d ever seen it. the alcohol cursing through your blood was definitely aiding in your laughter. you were always a giggly drunk, spencer realized.

not that he was any better. he wasn’t sure if he was more love drunk or alcohol drunk. the bar the team had visited was running a special on vodka cranberries, and he had definitely had a few too many. he wasn’t sloppy drunk or not in control of himself drunk, but he was the kind of drunk that made the tips of your fingers go numb.

he was trying to gauge where you are on that spectrum. you had stuck to wine, so you aren’t feeling as dizzy as he currently is, but you had a few more than him.

spencer quickly gave up on trying to pinpoint your location on this imaginary drunk scale he’d made up. he was too entranced by the words you were attempting to form. “spence!” you cheered, holding out the wine class he’d teased you for grabbing.

“what are you doing?” spencer said with a teasing smile as you made your way to his kitchen cabinet. “you still have that bottle of sangria?” you asked, with a much more stable tone than you had now. “yes?” spencer was clearly confused, “i thought you wanted to take a bath?” you laughed in reply, “there’s no law against having wine in the bathtub.” he couldn’t argue with that.

that was probably over an hour now. the water had run cold and the vanilla scented bubble bath you’d dumped in was starting to fade.

“another glass?” he questioned, taking your glass and reaching for the bottle you’d propped up against the side of the bathtub. “mhm!” you nodded, stretching out your legs a little bit. neither of you were comfortable per say, but the alcohol and love in the air was easily masking the joint pain you were starting to experience. squeezing into a tub with a man as tall as spencer was not an easy feat, but you were desperate to make it work.

“do you think anyone noticed?” spencer asked, referring to your hasty exit from the bar. “i dunno,” you mumbled as he handed the glass back to you, “i don’t really care either.” for some reason, your simple reply made spencer smile. he also didn’t care, he decided as soon as the words left your mouth.

“plus,” you started after taking a sip of your wine. spencer could tell you were about to ramble. it was a thing in your relationship. if one of you wasn’t rambling, the other definitely was. and you both listened to each other carefully, never invalidating or rushing them. it was nice to be with someone who talked like he did, spencer thought.

“even if they did, they don’t really know.” you emphasized. “like, they only really know work us, y’know?” spencer didn’t know. the team was his family and definitely knew more about him than simply who he was at work. with one quirk of an eyebrow, however, he was able to get you to explain your train of thought.

“see!” you gestured to his facial expression. as your body excitedly moved to show that your point had been proven, even if spencer was still confused, your almost full wine glass shook, sending red sangria into the bath water. spencer held back his laugh as you gently splashed it towards him. you took another sip, before continuing your explanation.

“i was very easily able to tell you didnt understand what i was saying. because we know each other. really know each other. so who cares if they think we’re dating? i mean i’ve seen parts of you no one else has, like i’ve seen your butthole, spencer. has anyone else on the team seen your butthole? exactly.”

spencer couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled over from his throat. you were speaking so passionately and so clearly about this, it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. he couldn’t tell if the warmth radiating through his chest was from the alcohol or from the way you existed in this space. he never wanted to leave this bathtub.

spencer couldn't help himself as he launched forward. the wine-tainted water that went flying over the side of the tub would be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all he was worried about was pressing a million and one kisses to the part of cheek that bubbled up when you smiled. he gently caressed your face as he moved closer to you. not even the pain in his back from his sudden jolt forward could slow him down.

you grip tighten on your wine glass, making sure it was secure in your hand as spencer moved. the bathroom acoustics made your fit of laughter sound as perfect as beethoven's third sympony to spencer. your giggles bounced off the wall, right into his heart as he kisses moved from your cheeks to being peppered around your entire face. his hands moved down to your sides, pulling you closer to him.

"spencer!" you squealed as his fingers wiggled against your sides. you could feel your grip on your glass loosening as he tickled you. "spencer! stop!" you laughed, using your feet to push against his thighs, effectively pushing him away. the bathroom was silent as you both came down from the giggle high you'd been on.

after another sip of wine, you spoke, "what was that for?" there was no malice behind your words. no accusatory tone or anger from his actions. you were smiling, basking in spencer's rare show of affection. he simply shrugged, "i just love you," he declared. you, once again, giggled at his words, "i love you too."

spencer sighed, holding up his hand to show you his pruning fingers. he was starting to sober up, so the cold of the bath water was beginning to effect him. "it might be time to get out, love." your bottom lip jutted out, expressing a disappointment that was far too dramatic for his simple sentiment. "don't wanna," you mumbled, pulling your glass to chug the rest of the wine before spencer made you get up.

spencer let out a laugh as you chugged, encouraging you to keep going. you finished the glass incredibly quickly. "i'm getting cold," he cooed, grabbing the empty glass and placing it on the floor, out of the way of where either of you would step out of the tub. "m'kay," you mumbled, not wanting spencer to suffer at your expense. spencer slow stood, not wanting to get any more water on the floor. he reached for the towel on the rack, dropping in on the floor, protecting your feet from where he overflowed the water earlier.

"stay here," he instructed before stepping out. he went to grab another towel. he quickly threw one around his waist, before reaching for the fluffiest one he could find. he returned to the side of the tub, leaving the towel to rest on the sink.

"ready?" he questioned, holding out his hand for you to take. in your drunken state, you were extremely grateful for his help to get you on your feet. he held onto you as you stepped over the wall of the bathtub, and didn't let go until you were standing stable. then, he reached for the towel, wrapping you up in it's warmth.

he rubbed his hands along the sides of your body, drying it to the best of his ability. the smudged makeup and goofy smile that painted your face had his heart racing.

"you ready?" he gestured to the door as he spoke. you nodded in response, pulling the towel tighter around your body. "i don't want to go to work on monday," you informed him as you walked the hallway to your room. "me neither," he agreed, reaching in his drawer for two oversized shirts. he slipped on a pair of boxers before moving to grab your comfiest pair of underwear.

you had made yourself comfortable on the edge of the bed, not wanting to wet where you or spencer would lay down. "legs up," he mumbled as he bent down. he slid the underwear up your legs, and helped you lift your butt up when he got to the top. once you were comfortable in them, he slipped on his shirt.

"arms up," you nodded at his words, instantly shooting them straight up in the air. as he slid the shirt over your arms, you spoke. "can we watch love is blind?" your voice sounded tired, despite the facade you were keeping of being wide awake. "yeah," he promised as he helped you lay down. once you were dressed and covered, he moved to the other side of the bed. he climbed in next to you, and you tried to ignore the way your head spun as he shifted to get comfortable.

"do you wanna watch the new one?" he asked. "mhm," you hummed. he pressed play on it, knowing you'd be asleep by the time the intro scene ended.

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds blurb #spencer reid x bau!reader

[roturo]

CRY FOR ME -dick grayson x f!reader. (part 2)

①PART TWO: DO NOT TOUCH, PERFECT WORLD, CANDY.

→ summary: He loves you, he really does, but he left you. Months wondering why he did that had you crying for him, never ending the never-ending cycle of the abandoned by Dick Grayson wasn't in your to-do list. It's time to hit him with a smile, rather than a goodbye that would leave him wondering. PART 1. words: 4k+

→ warnings: SMUT, angst, marking, fingering (f receiving) & oral (m receiving) , mutlipes orgasms, overstimulation, semi-public sex, edging, handcuffs, degradation kink, cock warming, nipple pinching, slapping, spitting, jealousy, cum eating, almost caught, unprotected sex, penis in vagina, cunnilingus, mentions of kory and dick being together but never in a relationship, hero into villain!reader, med student!reader, reader is friends with harley quinn, reader was part of the og titans.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

After all, Donna is a friend and you have to be loyal. She’s done nothing wrong, like others… 

Time hasn’t been the best, but it's making progress. People guess things have been complicated, thanks to… well, the incident of some days ago.  They didn’t know the whole story though.

After leaving Dick in his room alone, you proceed to go and call Harley to tell her all. You weren’t as excited as her, some part of you felt… bad? Watching him everyday now, felt like the past but in a bad way. Your heart wasn’t ready to deal with this.

You enjoyed the moment, but that’s all.

You need to prepare your heart for the following days. But it was becoming too much. Is that how he felt? If what he told you was true…

Even though he hasn’t shown any kind of anger towards you, it made you even more confused than before. Did this not affect him? 

Who would’ve imagined this bitter ending. You felt good, like you let out a part of you. It’s like you gave your back to the titans again. 

And the worst thing after him being unbothered with this whole ordeal it’s like he got closer with Kory. Something about their relationship seemed SO suspicious that it made you even madder. You’re pretty sure they’ve definitely slept together. 

None of your intentions of being ‘annoying’ towards Dick made any progress, but oh how naive you are.

To say he’s not mad at you isn’t completely true. He is, but he’s more heart-broken than anything else. Is this how you felt? Everything seemed different for him; a whole new sky, a whole new view, a whole new you.

He used to think there was hope in the future without you, but oh how wrong was he. He forgot that shine you brought him everyday, your beautiful smile when you woke up in his arms. He needed that again.

He tried to make you think he was unbothered with this, he didn’t need to show you his hurt side again. He had to be strong until the time was ready to touch you again. Right now he had to watch you, watch you take care of Conner, being in the tower with him.

And he never failed to notice how your brows slightly furrowed every time you saw him with Kory. So he started doing it more times, just to keep that hope up you still love him and miss him just like he does. 

But he needed to show and prove he won’t hurt you again, that he’s not that man that left you. It’s like you wanted to keep him away with your wholehearted rejection, but somehow he’s always a step behind from telling you ‘I love you’.

One night, you decided to take a break from being a ‘fake titan’ and decided to distract yourself by going out with Harley and maybe cause some problem. How could you think you wouldn’t cause any problem when Harley Quinn is by your side?

Running away from the siren police after robbing a luxury store, Harley by your side, you knew this wasn’t to be easy.  Running into an empty dark alley, it was a crowded night, and crimes were easily found this night. So it’s impossible for you two not to find a fucking hero.

And by a fucking hero, I mean fucking nightwing.

Great.

‘Oh, what do we have here? The mysterious friend Harley is always with. Where’s your partner huh?’

You looked at your left where Harley was supposed to be, looking confused back at Nightwing. ‘Oh right, don’t worry, one of my friends is dealing with her.’ He stepped closer at you, examining your costume, mask, if you're armed. ‘Now… Who are you?’

‘It’s none of your business.’ You tried to act rough but it sounded more of a mumble, knowing you were about to fight with fucking Nightwing. Fucking Dick Grayson.

‘Is that so?… What's so special about you that you don’t get caught as easily as Harley?’ 

Uh well, maybe she’s over-confident and clumsier? But she always knows the Joker is going to save her, so that’s why you don’t get scared for her safety. It’s kinda obvious…

‘Stop with the shitty chat, are we going to fight or not?’

‘I think you deserve another kind of punishment, is that so… Y/N?’

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

You felt your blood run cold at the words that left out Dick’s mouth, trying to regain your composure you coughed a little, ‘What are you talking about? Who is she huh? Our dear nightwing finally got a girlfriend?’

He let out an audibly laugh coming out from his chest, ‘Quit the act. We discovered your fantastic note Harley let you with the underwear, a nice pair by the way, would look good in your body. I have to admit she has a nice taste.’

He stepped even closer to you, ‘Oh, and what about your little call with her? Talking about Ivy and the fucking sex pollen? Thank God Kory was there to notice something was going on and told me to check the cameras.’

The fucking cameras. Shit. How could you be so fucking stupid? Of course he would have cameras everywhere. ‘My question is, why do you keep helping us? What 's your plan?’ 

‘If I tell you my plan, what are you going to do about it?’

He made a mocking gesture of him thinking for a second before sighing, ‘Depends on how bad it is.’

Fuck it. You already did it, and you’re sure you could get some hits right now. ‘My plan was for you to fucking cry for me.’

You could swear you noticed his face breaking a little before smirking again, he chuckled at you, what’s so funny?, ‘Oh…’ He stepped even closer to you, centimeters away from finally being completely close enough, ‘That’s the thing? That’s why you said those things?’ You slightly nodded, his presence becoming too much for you, looking at the floor you mumbled a little yes. ‘Mmm, let me think about how hard your punishment should be.’

Without a second to react, your body was caged between his arms and the wall. Taking the air out of you, looking up at him with an angry face he looked happy. ‘Quit the fucking act Dick, just hit me or something.’

‘You think i’m going to be that nice to you? I’ll just return the favor.’ Your face changed into confusion, his lips almost touching yours. You could feel his breath. ‘W-what do you mean?’ His lips locked with yous, catching you by surprise

His thumb digs into your cheeks and the other four fingers grip your face as he opens your mouth with pressure, tongue jutting out slightly. Dick sniggers, You might as well be begging to get fucked right now.’ Your eyes glisten, thighs and core clenching. Dick spits into your mouth and you swallow immediately. He laughs. Ah, you slutty whore. That’s what you wanted?’

You tried to move but your body wouldn’t listen, secretly you know you miss him too, as much as he does, but you couldn’t let yourself break that easily, ‘I’m not the one who was horny for almost a week, dumbass.’

‘And whose fault is that mhm?’ With no time for reaction he made you kneel down, falling with a small ‘tmmph’ ‘It’s my turn to have fun while watching you cry, don’t you think? This may also be a punishment for the crime you just did.’ His head slightly turned to the right, looking if someone else was in this dark alley, but everyone seemed as busy as the two of you, focusing on their own thing. The siren alarms quieting down all the chat the both of you have.

‘Ah, the siren alarms, I don’t see anything you stole, was this all Harley’s plan?’ You tried to answer and tell him to fuck off, but you heard him unzipping his suit, your mind fighting with your body to move away from him, but oh shit. You won’t lie you’ve been fingering yourself these last days in the shower thinking of his cock. Half of his body suit rested on his hips, showing his chest, some hickeys still a little bit visible on his chest, the same as red marks of your nails digging on him. ‘You like what you see? Makes me remember the day I fucking had you in my hands again. And ever since I got a taste of you again, you don’t know how stupid I felt to leave you.’

Your doe eyes looked at him, searching for any kind of lie, but all you could see was lust and sincere feelings for you. ‘Ah, but here’s the thing, you can’t touch me. Maybe you’ll miss my touch as much as I do for yours.’ Everything was happening so fast you didn’t realize him kneeling down and handcuffing your hands before he stood up again. ‘That's better.’ His hand caressed your cheek before the nice and warm touch turned into a slap.

‘I shouldn’t treat you like the love of my life, right? You just committed a crime, baby, you need to be punished by your actions.’ He didn’t seem angry, he seemed full of lust and excited to have you again.

‘Oh, but this doesn’t mean we’re okay, we still need to talk it out. Right now it’s Nightwing giving his favorite criminal a punishment.’  You looked down at his crotch, a visible bulge had you closing your legs trying to get some friction out of it. He slowly made his suit get lower so his cock could finally be free, sprinting up so it touched his stomach, a pearl of cum coming out of it, sliding down until his base.

‘Open up and say ah…’ You did as he said, feeling completely defenseless and not in control like the other time, knowing you fell for him and his tactic again. He grabbed you by your hair and then he inserted his cock inside of you, winning a groan out of his mouth before he started thrusting in and out. Your mouth couldn’t get all of it, but you couldn’t use your hands to satisfy the missing parts of his cock, he wouldn’t let you. You tried moving your hands, which made his movements stop, staying inside of you. ‘Ah-ah, do not touch, If you still love me, you know you have to watch first and maybe I'll let you.’

You stopped fighting for his touch and gave into him, he moaned when you relaxed your throat and took him all in. He wouldn’t give you a break and thrust shamelessly into you, making you leave choked moans out of you, tears forming around your eyes making your vision blurry. ‘That’s it, you fucking criminal whore. These are the punishments you want right?’

You tried nodding, but he only chuckled at your try. He thrusted some times more before he finally came in your mouth with a moan that sounded almost like a whimper. Like the old times you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, ‘Good girl.’ Then you swallowed.

‘I’ll see you at the tower.’ He started getting his suit on again, and with just a wink he left.

How the fuck are you supposed to get off this handcuffs?

When you came back to the tower with a sore throat and normal clothes, as soon as you entered the tower you saw Kory waiting for you in her cocky posture and a smirk adorning her face. ‘How was your night sneaky friend?’

You rolled your eyes trying to ignore her, hopefully she’s the only one who knows besides Dick, but she wouldn’t let you go so easily, so she grabbed you by the wrist stopping you from leaving. ‘Fuck off Kory.’

‘I’m not the one betraying everyone here dumbass.’

‘Go and fuck Dick or something,' Ironic isn't it?, since you're the one fucking him. 'don’t you want that? Maybe he could take this anger out of you and leave me the fuck alone.’

‘I don’t want to fuck him, i’m trying to keep my friends safe.’

‘Safe by being with them like a fucking tick? As if.’ You said those words with venom coming out of your mouth, never breaking eye contact with her.

‘That’s how things are going to be huh? Jealous, I'm spending more time with your ex than you?’ You felt your wrist getting warmer, trying to get off you whining at the hot sensation of her using her powers. ‘Let go Kory.’

‘Or what? You’re going to whine about this to your little friend Joker?’ 

‘Might as well ask him to fucking kill you.’ You said, kicking her on the stomach so she could let go, looking at your arm you could see a small burn, nothing too serious.

You hissed, touching the affected area, looking back at Kory, who stood there with a confused face, looking back, you saw Dick standing there, a black t-shirt hugging his chest and biceps just right, and some gray sweatpants. 

‘What the fuck Dick? Isn’t she supposed to be beaten out or something? She’s a fucking villian!’

You smirked at her assumption, side-eyeing her back and then looking back at Dick. ‘Let’s say she’s a good fighter…’ He shrugged it off while getting closer to the both of you, looking at your injured arm, he looked back at Kory. ‘Let’s get you healed up.’ Dick grabbed you by the hand leading you to the nursery.

‘Are you being for real Dick? You’re still letting her in the house after knowing who she truly is?’ Her voice seemed more distant every step you took, you were getting giddy with all that was happening that you didn’t even realize you were sitting on a chair, Dick kneeled down looking for some medicines. Your arm already bandaged.

'...'

‘So… How did you become a villain?’ He asked, testing the waters. ‘I dunno, guess it just happened with no explanations.’ He took the hint at what you were referring to, deciding to just sigh. ‘I was stupid okay? Not being Robin gave me a kind of breakdown trying to decipher who I was, I fucked up. I dissolved the titans because of that, and the worst thing of all is that I lost you.’ You thought there was a nice future without him, not letting him crumble your world, but hearing his breaking voice while telling you this, made you rethink everything.

Dick isn’t good at expressing his emotions, so him trying really meant he was serious with this, ‘I couldn’t imagine myself with other girls, because the fantasy of you shatters my heart, I’ll always be by your side, I promise, please forgive me.’

You shakily sighed at his confession, remembering the first time he told you ‘I love you’ you had your emotions just in control before all of this, but now you realize the both of you are below the same sky and you couldn’t resist wrapping your arms around him again. All you could hear in the room were sobs coming out of the both of you. Old lovers reuniting again, but the tension in the air was still visible, not forgetting what happened earlier this night.

‘Can I keep being a villain so you could just fuck me everytime I commit a crime?’ He chuckled at this, making him stop crying, and looking at you, ‘Maybe I should lock you up, and give those punishments for free, I don’t need you causing problems out there.’

You made a gesture like you were thinking about it, ‘Mmh, that doesn’t sound too bad, but I’ll miss Harley so that’s a no.’ He rolled his eyes, ‘I can lock her up too.’ he said, grabbing both of your hands. ‘And punish her too? I don’t think the Joker nor me would be happy with that.’

He laughed, how much you missed his laugh. ‘Obviously no. She would be locked up serving her sentence or something.’ The both of you looked at eachother, missing the comfortable silence, until a question came to mind. ‘And Kory?’

‘What about her?’

‘She’ll tell everyone.’

A small oh left his lips, looking at the floor then bringing his eyes back to yours. ‘I’ll talk with her.'

'...'

'....'

‘Do you… uh… like her?’

‘Would I be here waiting for you to give me a chance to kiss you again if I liked her?’ Unable to control yourself, you crashed your lips onto his, and he responded immediately. He grabbed you by your legs, immediately wrapping them around his waist, he somehow opened up the door and led the both of you to his room. Lips never breaking apart.

Without breaking the kiss, you pushed him onto his back, laying flat on the bed and  straddling his lap. Dick smirked at your actions and you leaned down, reconnecting your lips. You involuntarily grinded onto his growing bulge, causing him to groan in pleasure. You could feel your panties sticking to your wet folds while you moved on him. Without breaking the heated kiss, Dick sat up, pulling you along with him, so that his back was resting against the headboard of your bed and you were still straddling him. He broke the kiss to trail open mouth kisses along your neck, making you tilt your head to give him more access.

‘Can I touch you?’ he mumbled against your skin, giving it a little nibble.

‘Yes, please…’

Dick’s hands moved up your body to your breasts. He gently massaged your breasts before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. He flicked it with his tongue, giving it a little swirl before repeating the same action for the other one.

‘You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do this to you again,’ he said, lips meeting yours in a quick kiss before he changed positions, hovering above you. ‘Every time the both of us were alone, I had to control myself so much from wanting to kiss you… to touch you…’ his hand moved down to your thighs, giving it a squeeze before he teased your inner thighs. He slowly moved his hand to cup your clothed heat, making you whimper.

‘‘Fuck, please touch me,’ you begged.

Dick slowly took your panties off, mouth watering at the sight of your glistening core. His fingers moved to your clit, gently stroking your sensitive nub. You grabbed his hand once your clit became too over sensitive again, stopping him from touching you.

“I… it’s very sensitive from what we did earlier before…’ Dick kissed your neck while his fingers explored the area around your entrance, avoiding your sensitive clit; he didn’t want to just shove his fingers up immediately. ‘Just relax, baby,’ he murmured against your skin, and your tense body relaxed a bit. He ran his finger along your wet folds, collecting your juices. He took his time, teasing you around that area, trying to get you wetter.

When you felt wetter, he moved his body to rest in between your legs. He slowly slipped a finger into your hole. ‘Does it hurt?’ he asked. You shook your head and he continued pushing his finger all the way in. You winced at the slight sting you felt when he pulled his finger back a little. ‘Are you okay? Does it hurt, baby?’ 

‘No, it feels so good.’ you said, your hands moving to his messy black hair.

He tapped around your walls, searching for your g-spot. You sucked in a breath when he found your spot, clutching a fistful of his hair. “Found it,” he smirked, continuing to finger you, making sure to hit that very spot. ‘D-Dick…’ you moaned, your walls clenching around his finger. He kissed and gently sucked on the skin of your inner thighs while he fingered you. You could feel something building up in your lower stomach, and you assumed you were close to orgasming. ‘Dick… I think I’m-’ 

‘Let it go,’ he pumped his fingers faster, making your back arch. ‘Cum for me, baby.’ His words and a few more pumps was all it took for your orgasm to wash over you, making you loudly moan his name. He pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean, eyes closing at your taste. ‘So fucking sweet. I fucking missed you.’

He leaned down for a kiss, which you gratefully accepted, taking off his shirt and pants, his cock was as hard as before, searching for attention. He then inserted his cock, pushing through your gummy walls, making you moan at the feeling. He slowly started thrusting, making sure to keep the stimulation from your previous orgasm, the both of you were so focused on the other that you didn’t hear the knocks on the door until the second time.

‘Dick! Are you there?’ Fuck. It was Kory. ‘The door is locked.’ The both of you heard another voice, it sounded a lot like Rachel’s. ‘Dick! We can’t find Y/N’ Shit. Gar is also there?

‘We need to find her before she causes something big.’ Rachel said, knocking on his door again. The both of you looked at eachother with wide eyes, before he shut you up with his hand  on your mouth, keeping you from making any sound, but he continued thrusting, finding a rhythms which touched your g-spot just perfectly. You moaned, earning a look from him, ‘Uh- I haven’t seen her anywhere.’

‘C’mon Dick, you took her to the nursery.’ Kory said from the other side of the door, ‘But- I ha- ah! haven-t seen her since..’ You clenched his cock, catching him by surprise, making his voice break and whimper, his hand reaching your nipple pinching on it, giving him an angry look, you clenched your hole earning a moan out of him, making you giggle. ‘Are you okay Dick?’ Gar asked.

‘U-uh, yeah, just putting on my suit for, mmh~ go and search for her, y’all should do the same.’ You couldn’t quite hear the voices coming from the other side, too giddy feeling the way Dick’s cock moves inside of you.

‘Okay… we’ll see you in 10.’ That was the last thing the both of you heard, before making sure they left.

‘You heard that princess? We only have 10 minutes before we go searching for you. Guess I couldn’t- Ah!’ A specific thrust made the both of you feel an electric shock, ‘I couldn’t stop Kory from telling the other, ha…’

He started thrusting harder and faster this time, knowing he was searching for his high, you were quite close to it. His hand traveled down your body until it found your clit and started rubbing it. Making you almost scream if it wasn’t for his hand covering your mouth. Not even 30 seconds passed and you saw stars, your vision becoming white thanks to the overstimulation and him not stopping so you could take a break from your high. Actually motivating him to thrust faster to search for his.

Tears formed again into your eyes, staining your cheeks, his other arm over your head holding himself up while he thrusts into you. He leaned down and licked the tears out your face,  before uncovering your mouth, taking a big breath before breaking down into a moaning mess, he thrusted into you harder, cock deep down inside of you, shaking while stripes of cum filled you up.

All you could hear were whimpers coming out of him, until he finally calmed down and tools his cock out, making the both of you hiss at the feeling. He laid down beside you, audibly breaths coming out of the both of you, looking up at the roof.

He grabbed down the blankets and covered the both of you, him being the big spoon and you the small one.

‘What about the others?’

‘If we don’t answer they’ll think I went alone and also go search for me’ He chuckled, hugging you even closer. ‘Here I am right now, and tomorrow when you wake up. By your side. I’m sure we’ll find an agreement with the others, since you didn’t commit the crimes like that, just an accomplice, maybe you could become a hero again.’

You scoffed at that, ‘We’ll see about that Dickie.’

#dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson angst #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing smut #nightwing angst #chishiya smut #titans angst #titans x reader #titans smut #titans netflix #tv: titans #richard grayson smut #im literally about to fucking dissapear for a week after this one #my back HURTS. #this better not flop bc istg #YALL ASKED FOR IT #HERE IT IS #FKING REBLOG FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

[bellarkeselection]

Walter to the Rescue

Gif not mine it belongs to @alphinias

After a ride in the woods late at night you wind up getting lost and to the readers surprise Cole actually answers your call.

Tag list - @cognacdelights

Kicking my horse in the belly to go faster with the wind running through my hair that I left completely loose. This wasn’t the first time I had taken one of the Walter family's horses to clear my head from a day of high school. It all could be a lot especially when everyone in this town knows you have a close family relationship with the Walter kids. Because it only results in half the school thinking you're sleeping with some of them. “Woah boy. Easy now.”

My horse begins making some noise in protest hearing some thunder off in the distance. I knew that horses could get spooked easy but I wasn't too worried about it. Alex had taught me how to keep your cool on them. Looking around at the treeline the leaves have already begun changing colors making it really beautiful. “Ah!” I screamed suddenly when lighting hit the ground in front of me and that caused my horse to whine and throw me off its back.

“Ow! No wait…” I called out to my horse but he was already far off into the treeline. Running a hand through my hair I sighed seeing that the sky was getting darker meaning there was a storm coming. Digging inside my jacket pocket I drew out my phone dialing the house phone getting no answer. “Seriously a house full of that many people and nobody hears the phone!”

I guess I couldn't blame them for not answering. That house is always loud and crazy no matter what time of day. Plus now that Jackie from New York had moved in things got more complicated. Tapping my knees in thought I tried to decide who would answer my call. Alex was busy with Jackie, Parker was probably outside playing with Benny. Will was working tonight selling houses. Jordan, Nathan, Lee, Isaac and Danny didn't drive. So that left me in the hands of the most popular guy in town who was known for hooking up with multiple girls Cole. Lifting my head up to the sky I felt heavy rain coming down where I scrambled to my feet but collapsed when I felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. “Shit!...guess he's my only choice now.”

It wasn't that I hated the guy. I just hated the reputation he had made for himself. The rain came pouring down where I grunted, forcing myself to stand up. I hopped over to the treeline to get some coverage from the storm. The wind was picking up, shaking everything so I dialed his number. “Pick up, pick up.”

“What's going on, Y/n?” His voice came through the phone.

“Don't make fun of me but I'm lost.” I stated.

He chuckled at me. “How did little woodlen girl get lost?”

“Cole, I'm not in the mood for teasing right now.” I spat back.

The former star football player still was laughing on the other end. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe girl who hunts with her father managed to get lost on our property. I mean I never thought I’d see the day from someone like you.”

“Cole, I am currently stuck out in a storm and called you for help so can you take this seriously please!” I raised my voice pulling the hood of my jacket over my head shivering when the wind blew harshly against me.

Finally to my surprise he came to his senses responding back to me. “Alright I’ll come get you.” He hung up the call and I was forced to listen and watch the storm get worse for an hour or so.

Burying my face into my knees my body was shaking from the cold and the fact that my clothes were soaked head to toe. I heard a vehicle engine getting closer in my direction and it pulled to a stop showing me it was Cole’s truck he was usually working on in the barn. The drivers door flung opened and quickly shut where I saw someone running towards me with a jacket in their hands. “Cole?”

“One knight in shining armor, woodland girl.” He declared dropping down on a knee, draping the jacket over my shoulders.

I glared up into his green eyes seeing his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Can you please call me by my actual name for once?”

“Maybe someday. Come on let's get out of the cold before we both get frost bite.” He offered me his hands tugging me to stand.

“Argh!” I winced, dropping down on my other knee after my injured ankle.

Cole was quick on his reflectances sweeping me up bridal style into his muscular arms. “Looks like you needed a better horse riding teacher than Alex huh?”

“Let’s not talk about it right now.” I said feeling embarrassed enough as is. He helped me into the passenger seat and we drove home. He carried me upstairs and sat me down on the edge of his bed in his bedroom.

He searched around in the closet grabbing himself a change of clothes. Then he tossed me one of his blue tea shirts and some shorts. “Here I can help you if you need it.”

“Turn around first.” I instructed him, blushing since I haven't even kissed anyone before. He did as told giving me the chance to slip my wet shirt for his and shrugging off my jeans until I thought about getting the shorts on. I pulled them up as much as I could before getting his attention. “Cole, I can’t get them up without standing on my foot.”

He looks over his shoulder coming back to me moving his hands down to the left side telling me. “Lift your foot for me.” I lifted my foot and he shrugged it up then helping me sit back down on the bed so I could do the same to my right leg without his assistance.

“Thanks, Cole.” I whispered where he stands in front of me letting silence fill the room. I avoided his gaze, not sure of what to say until I shut my eyes to ask the question. “So did you have to skip a hookup with Erin to come rescue me?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Why would you care if I did. You have a crush on me or something, woodland girl?”

“Y/n, you know my name so use it.” I corrected him. “And even if I did, you don't have relationships. I wouldn't want to be another girl tricked by The Cole Effect.”

He raised a brow at my words. “Oh yeah. What makes you think you'd just be another girl I hook up with?”

“Like I said everyone at school knows you don't do real boyfriend girlfriend relationships. You do hook ups and my mother saw it before I did but I refuse to let my feelings for you lead me down that path since you can't possibly feel the same way about me as I do you.” I accidentally admitted without realizing it to him.

Cole stared blankly at me. “You don't think I feel the same?”

“If you did, you have a funny way of showing it.” Shrugging my shoulders I lowered my gaze down from his green orbs.

Cole simply replied then closed the gap between us. “Is this enough of an effort for ya.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine.

I gasped in shock and awe that the famous Cole Walter was kissing me. He was kissing me, the girl that wasn’t popular like he was. The girl that was just a friend of the family but still no one special. “Cole…I’ve never….never done anything like this.” I mumbled tugging on his blonde locks deepening the kiss. He moaned gently pushing me down onto the mattress and he climbed over top of me never breaking the heated kiss until we needed air.

“I’m not doing this to just have a hook up with you, Y/n. I’m not good with commitment but I do actually care about you.” He breathed out holding himself up by his hands on either side of me, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were focused on me.

Raising one hand up I tangled my fingers into his hair asking the question that was eating away at me now. “So what does that make us now, Cole Walter?”

“We can take this slow and figure it out as we go along, Y/n Woodland Girl L/n.” He smiled leaning down kissing me gently this time. I giggled wrapping my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me enjoying the kisses we shared.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#cole x reader #cole walter #cole walter x reader #noah lalonde #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #netflix #jackie howard #alex walter #friends to lovers #lost in the woods #horse ranch #colewalteredit #Spotify

[moonstruckme]

Hiya Mae!! How are you?? It’s been a little bit but I was hoping I could request a poly!marauders fic (+plus Lily if you’re comfortable with doing that if not it’s fine). This week is the 6th anniversary of my brothers passing and this year is a bit harder as I’m turning 18. Having such a milestone coming up and him not being here is sorta making me sick. I was wondering if maybe you could base the fic off of that? Or something to do with grief and them helping reader out. I’ve found great comfort in the abundance of love you portray with their relationship and I could do with a lil of it.

If not it’s totally fine don’t feel obligated. Hope you have a good week!!

Hi sweetheart, sorry I couldn't get this to you during the week you requested it. I was also dealing with a bit of grief at the time and it felt too raw to try for a while. I hope you're doing well and that you really enjoy being 18, even if those feelings are complicated by your loss <33

cw: mentions of death, grief

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 622 words

The sky is turning from deep blue to black outside when Sirus notices you’ve slipped into a melancholy. 

The only hint of it is in your tone. You’ve been quipping about the film you’re all watching like you always do, bouncing off his and James’ comments and Remus’ amused grunts, but there’s a falsity to the cheer in your voice. This is something you and James have in common; when Sirius or Remus are upset it permeates the area around them like a thick fog, but the two of you have a way of keeping it contained within yourselves, putting on counterfeit smiles. Sirius often wonders if it doesn’t hurt you more. 

He leans away from where he’s been resting his head on Remus’ pectoral, snaking an arm around your shoulders. 

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl?” he asks quietly. 

You shrug. Swallow. “Just thinking about them,” you murmur in reply. 

Sirius suspects this isn’t the full story, but he, too, knows the necessity of papering over certain pains. He doesn’t pry. 

Before the war—before Regulus—Sirius used to think that grief was the pain that came from the love you had for the lost person being ripped away from you. But even months after his brother’s death, all the love is still there. It’s amplified, if anything, every ounce of it demanding attention now that he can no longer take it for granted even a little bit. 

What went was the ritual of it all. The peculiar brand of happiness he’d felt around Reg, never easy but still there, buried beneath layers of troubled history and shared broodiness. The inside jokes they’d barely realized they had, things no one who wasn’t raised in their house would see the humor in. The surety that if they fought, they’d get a chance to make up. Sirius will never have those things with his brother again. In memories, maybe, but now they’ll always be tinged with the love so big it hurts. 

He wishes desperately he could keep you from hurting like that. 

He shuffles closer, awkwardly wrapping his other arm around you until he’s nearly covering your body with his. It’s like he thinks he can shield you, like he can protect you from grief after he’d failed to protect you from loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says. 

You shake your head, turning so it’s jammed in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Your face feels hot. “I don’t know what to do,” you choke out. 

Sirius squeezes you tighter. He gets it, but he doesn’t. He knows how it feels to grieve, but not how to grieve your person in your way. It’s an ache he can only approximate. 

“Sweetheart.” James’ voice sounds pained, and he gets up from Remus’ other side, rounding the couch to climb onto the armrest beside you. He rubs your back with one hand, the other coming to rest on Sirius shoulder, a comfort in case he needs it. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, my love.” 

Sirius feels a hot tear slip down his neck into his shirt, and James winces as your shoulders hitch under his touch. Remus makes a soft pitying sound. 

“You’re alright.” He latches onto the last unclaimed part of you, rough hand soothing up your calf. “You’re okay.” 

“Sorry,” you manage, and Sirius squishes you punishingly in his arms, pressing a staunch kiss to the side of your head. 

“Don’t be silly,” he tells you. James makes a half-choked sound of agreement. “No sorries, okay?” 

You nod, the bump of your nose moving against Sirius’ neck. He gives you another kiss to show his approval. 

“You’re alright, darling,” Remus says again. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got you.” 

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders angst #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders era #hp marauders #the marauders #marauders x reader

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

The way of the water

request: can i have some kaz x grisha!reader where she's a tidemaker and during a heist he falls into the water and she uses her powers to pull him out and helps him through a panic attack? hurt/comfort and preferably established relationship pls and thx

a/n I am so tired that I do not know what this is. And I really apologize if it is bad.

warning: drowning?, fear of water, not really played into his touch aversion.

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Kaz was convinced that you were simply his best investment. A quick and smart way of dealing with his fear of water. He had torn earth and sky. Put at least five bullets between different merchants' eyes before he found you locked in a glass tomb. For a moment, you looked repulsive to him. Floating in the water like a corpse. But then again, he remembered the gossip. The way the creature was forced into a trance. It had been the only way to drag you out of the village the salesman had raided once the word about your kind spread. Just you didn’t remind him of a creature...

“Unlock her," Kaz had muttered to Jasper, who had stood gaping like a fish himself, “and I don’t know... offer her water." Kaz had glanced one more time at you. “Very funny, boss," Jasper hissed. “You do know that she could bite my head off and drown me once I...", but Jasper was only met with a slam of the door.

The weeks that followed left Kaz both satisfied and frustrated. You had tried to run only five times in a span of two weeks. In an angry haze, Kaz had locked you against the staircase railing. Much to everyone’s displeasure. But then he only managed to sit in his office for an hour before he found himself reaching for his cane.

“Extend your leg," he muttered, watching as the droplets fell to the floor. Your angry eyes darted toward him. “Sometimes I’m glad you can’t move blood," he muttered under his breath. “Careful, maybe you don’t know all of my tricks," you huffed, pulling your chained leg beneath yourself. Kaz inhaled deeply. He needed you. There was no use in you if you just sulked.

“You do know that I wasn’t the one who brought you here. I saved you from a very bleak existence. You should be thankful," he said blankly. “My apologies; you want me to bow or kneel?”, you scowled back. “I don’t want to exploit you, I..." Kaz swallowed thickly. He hadn’t told anyone why he had been so close to obsessively looking for you. He was sure they had found their conclusions on their own. “I need your help," he finished.

Kaz watched as curiosity flicked in your gaze. He knew that you weren’t going to ask. You could very well just sit there for hours. “I don’t like... I have a complicated relationship with water." For some reason, Kaz was waiting for you to start laughing. Make a joke. But the expression on your face didn’t change. If anything, the harsh frown eased up. “It… I had to be near corpses during the plague”, Kaz pulled at the suit he was wearing as his throat slowly closed up with anxiety. But then, in a heartbeat, the air in the room shifted. The dripping of the leaks in the roof faded to nothing. Kaz lifted his head to assess the droplets turning to mist the moment they entered the room. Once he glanced back down, he found you standing with the chained leg extended to him. He held your gaze for a moment before nodding. A silent understanding taking shape between you both.

“It’s an easy job. Pick up the document and go." It had been a while since any job had come into Kaz’s view. One he would like to take on, at least. Until now. He needed that handbook, the new shipment trades, and the new substance that had leaked into the market. “Worst-case scenario, there’s a harbor," Kaz tapped onto the map. His eyes caught yours across the room. He had sworn to never involve you in the Six Crows business but caved in after watching you wilt into nothing for weeks. So now he just offered you the safest job he could find. To stand watch. To leave false trails. To watch his back if a big body of water was near.

“Fourth floor. You will go through here." Kaz quickly averted his gaze. “I will scale the outside wall." He could hear the sharp breath you had taken in. He knew why. The side wall was bordered by the edge of the dock. Kaz swallowed thickly and said, “Get me that fucking book," before folding the map up and showing it into the top drawer of the desk.

The salty water kissed your skin as you slowly walked into the waves. You knew that Kaz watched you from his spot. You could feel his eyes on you. It had been weird the last few months. Going from full terror to finding a strange family of sorts. Yet still, it was Kaz who intrigued you the most. It was unusual the relationship between you two. If you could even call it that. You rarely talked, but then it never felt like you had to. He understood. And when he wanted you to be there when he tried to overcome his fear of water, you would just linger there. Like a phantom touch. Guarding him. And then he would stand there looking at you for hours. Eyes pouring more than words could ever tell.

You are the one watching him now. Like a shadow. Crawling up the wall. Each move is calculated, each move is planned out. Covered by the waves crashing against the shore. It always bugged you in the moments when you couldn’t see him. When he was inside the building, outside of your sight. You couldn’t protect him there. Even if Jasper had told you time after time that it was you and all of them that needed saving from Kaz, not the other way around.

A loud bang sent your head shooting up to the balcony. Voices following through. Shouts. Glass braking. The light flickering on throughout the whole upper floor. One that was supposed to stay undisturbed. Your own heart picked up in pace. Then the dark coat appeared, swaying in the wind. Another figure leaped upfront. The two wrestle in the tight spaces. A loud snap. And there it was. The time stopped still as a flash of Kaz’s face eliminated by the moon glimpsed by right as his body was forced over the railing. You had barely managed to swallow his name while diving into the waves. Forcing your body to move as fast as possible.

The free fall felt short, but the impact of the water felt as if Kaz had been drowning for an eternity. He didn’t even realize that he was falling into the water. He was prepared for hard ground. But the panic that filled his body when he was submerged made him let out a gasp. Filling his lungs with salty water. Memories of the past clasped clammy hands all over him, dragging him deeper and deeper. The light from the moon fading away.

And then it’s as if he’s wrapped in an invisible net. Kaz blinks once, and it’s you there. Right in front of him. By some absolute stupidity, he tries to call out your name. Letting more water into his lungs. Your eyes grow big, and then your fingers are grasping for him. Kaz catches that apologetic expression on your face before you pull him closer to you. Lips crashing into his, and at once it feels as if his lungs don’t remember how to breathe or how to welcome that gust of oxygen. But he’s holding onto you regardless. Feeling the fear fade away until it all goes black.

“Look at me," you frantically tap at Kaz’s cheek. Breathing heavily. The very tips of the waves still kissing your legs. You didn’t have enough energy to pull you both out fully. Feet slipping beneath the wet sand. Making you fall over, with Kaz’s body following right with you. "Kaz," you press your ear against his chest, trying to listen for a heartbeat, but you’re too anxious and too shaky to distinguish anyway.

“Why aren’t you waking up? Wake up!" You whine in frustration, pressing your lips against his now-blue ones. A kiss from you had to be enough. Had to breathe him back to life. You couldn’t have been too late. Couldn’t have. And then Kaz jerks, sitting up in a rush, his pained coughs slipping past his lips. You don’t dare to touch him now. You know he doesn’t like it. You had already overstepped as it was, but now.

“What the fuck?", he hissed through clenched teeth, making you drop your gaze. “Are you out of your mind?”, Kaz was coughed once again. Now you could see a sharp gash in his forehead. Still leaking blood. Your fingers traced the wet sand. “I saved it," you muttered, handing him the book he had come for—one that fell alongside him into the water. Kaz rips it out of your grasp, throwing it to the side. His fingers wrap around your wrist. “Are you insane?”, he hisses, pulling you closer. “You could have gotten hurt; they could have very well shot at you." His words hit you like a blow, leaving you speechless as you glanced up at him.

“Your arm." You want to laugh at how insane this is. Had you too hit your heads? Why is he concerned with... “What happened to your hand?” Kaz demands, making you glance down at the torn flesh. He was too heavy for you to lift up the dock. You tried. Unfortunately, that resulted in you slipping, and since you were too afraid to let go of his body, your arm met the sharp edge of the hook that was left carelessly there.

The sound of the shirt being ripped makes you blink. And here he stands. Taring his shirt up before grasping your hand as he wraps it around. “Your head," you mutter, "You," "It’s a scuff," Kaz grunts, his fingers shaking the longer he touches you. You back away slightly, not wanting him to do something he’s uncomfortable with. But Kaz’s wild eyes meet yours, making you still. “Next time," he breathes out, “Next time, you swim away without looking back.”

He drops your arm, turning away from you. Brushing his shaky fingers through his messy hair. “There will be no next time," you mutter, making Kaz turn around so quickly it makes you jolt. “There will be no next time," you continue once again, “because I will be right there, right under, and you will never get to feel what drowning feels like." Your hands wrap into fists as angry tears roll down your face. Kaz shakes his head. “You silly girl," he huffs, stopping closer to you. Not daring to touch you, but enough to feel your body close. Enough to feel whatever that is left of both of your bodies's warmth bouncing off of each other. Kaz takes a deep breath, "I would rather drown over and over again than see you get hurt again.”

#kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x oc #kaz x you #kaz brekker six of crows #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz x reader #kaz brekker #the six of crows x reader #the six of crows imagine #the six of crows #the six of crows x you

[joelmillers-whore]

Hard Light | Chapter Two

chapter one | ao3 | masterlist

series summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 

chapter summary: becoming obsessed with your english professor and imagining what fucking him would be like was never part of the plan. you seem to think about him whenever least convenient and read more into innocent words and touches than you should. but, your infatuation with him comes screeching to a halt when you discover something about him. crush done and over with, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.7K

series or one-shot

chapter warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), sexualization of the male form, allusions to sexual and explicit scenarios, drinking and glorification of getting drunk

A/N: okay, listen, i won't beat around the bush, i kinda let this series die after like one chapter. my brain works in mysterious ways, as in, i lose interest in stuff quickly, and that includes writing certain fics. that's why i have so many unfinished wips. but, here we go with another chapter of hard light. i re-read this chapter and was suddenly inspired to write for it again. enjoy and don't forget to comment, reblog, and like.

You’d been stuck at the coffee shop for the majority of the day, constantly checking your phone to see if Jeremy had answered you yet. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to cover your shift. Where the fuck was he? You normally had no problem with covering a Saturday shift but you really needed to leave early, the application for the internship was due soon and you hadn’t started it yet. You flinched, feeling the burn of scolding oat milk drip onto your hand. You shook your hand out, trying to ignore the pulsating emanating from the skin. 

You’d been burned before and worse, but you just wanted to get through this shift. You tipped the ceramic cup and poured the frothed milk into it, moving your wrist in tandem with tipping the cup, trying to quickly do the design that had become second nature to you at this point. Your mouth flattened into a tight line, almost smiling at the student as you handed them their coffee beverage. You were always glad that the coffee shop on campus had only a few options to choose from when it came to coffee orders. And they were all pretty easy to memorize and make. 

Heaven forbid you worked at a Starbucks, where you had to nail down complicated drink combinations and fulfill nauseating orders. Coffee was a sacred thing, at least to you, and it was the perfect concoction of bitter and sweet that had you hooked each time you drank it. People needed way too much sugar to actually enjoy a caffeinated beverage, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t something you personally liked. 

You looked up from putting the oat milk back in the fridge when you heard the chime on the door, ready to greet the person who had just entered with a welcoming smile, but that smile flattered when you saw who had just walked in. Your new English professor, the one with the tight ass. You shook your head. Okay, from here on out you were not allowed to think of him that way. He made his way to where you were, an easy pace to his walk. You swallowed as your eyes raked over him. He was wearing brownish-green slacks that seemed to fit him snuggly in places that you couldn’t look away from, and a stylish brown tweed jacket, which stretched across his forearms and chest tightly. 

He gifted you with a smile, his lips perfectly rounded and pink even though they hid underneath a subtle stubble. You opened your mouth to speak but apparently, you had no knowledge of the English language at this current point in time. 

“Could I get a latte?”, Professor Miller asked. 

You had heard him speak in front of nearly a hundred people earlier this week and yet, you were taken completely off guard by the throaty yet softspoken quality of his voice. How soothing and intimate it was when it touched your ears. It made you shiver, imagining how it would sound in the harshness of night when he was on top of you, thrusting slowly, and giving you words of encouragement while you took his thick—

“Yes”, you squawked, stepping back from the counter and burying your head in the coffee machine as you prepared his latte, trying not to let it show how heated your cheeks probably were. 

You heard a low chuckle from him as he paid, turning on his heels and standing in front of you, the bar of the counter the only thing acting as a barrier between the two of you. 

“You’re from my English Lit class, right?”, he asked, his Southern drawl sweeping over your whole body, making your stomach flutter. 

You looked up briefly, not ready to meet his eyes for fear that he could read your thoughts if you let him. You nodded, ducking back down and concentrating. 

“Thought so”. His voice was filled with amusement and something else as you felt the weight of his stare. 

You placed his finished latte on the counter, stuffing your hands into your back pockets as you waited for him to grab it. He took hold of the cup and the saucer but he didn’t move, plastered in place as you locked eyes with him. His pupils were double their original size as he scanned your features, seemingly staring into your soul. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t find the strength. 

His mouth tipped up at the edges, “Since I can get an unbiased opinion from one of my students...”, he paused, thinking about his next words thoughtfully, “How did you find my first day? Been meaning to ask one of you...”. 

You cleared your throat, “I think you did well. If my opinion matters at all”. 

Professor Miller snickered under his breath, nodding, “It does. Thank you for your honesty”, he twisted around but spoke over his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you, and I look forward to the rest of the semester”. 

And with that, Joel continued to a table near the back corner of the coffee shop, setting his beverage on the surface and taking out his phone. He didn’t look up at you for the duration of his time, sipping his coffee, head buried in his phone for about an hour before leaving. He gave you a small wave as he left, which made your cheeks flame. 

You really needed to get a grip on yourself and not read more into his words. But you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you... He meant it in terms of the course, not whatever your idle mind told you it was really about. But you couldn’t help but dig into the double meaning behind those words. You were sure he could teach you a thing or two, he definitely looked like someone who had more experience when it came to sexual things. God, what was wrong with you? Joel— Professor Miller was a nice man, someone you could surely rely on when it came to your studies, you shouldn't be thinking of him that way. 

You were just tired and in need of some sleep. Yeah, that’s why you were letting images best left in the dark corners of your mind float to the forefront. Occupying yourself for the rest of your shift, eventually, Joel and that whole interaction became a distant memory, leaving your mind as fast as it had manifested. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You settled into a lacklustre routine as the week came and went in a flash. You hadn’t had another one-on-one conversation with Professor Miller, much to your relief. You’d been using your job at the coffee shop, studying and catching up on homework, or even spending time out with friends, as a diversion when your mind began to wander back to that man that made your head spin and your every nerve ending light ablaze when his eyes settled on you in class. 

It wasn’t just a one-off coincidence when you felt it the first time, it wasn’t even a coincidence the second time that you’d felt it either. It was becoming something permanently stuck in your head; when you would see him again, and you made a bet with yourself before every class. Would you get that same flutter in your stomach when you saw him standing before the class, back turned to you and that backside calling out to you? And every time, you would win or lose, depending on your outlook that day. You had a monster crush on your English professor and it was becoming a hindrance. 

Each day you’d wonder what he would think of your outfit, because yeah, now you were actually having to think about your appearance, you actually cared. You wanted him to care, to notice, for his heady gaze to bore into you for a little longer than any of the other girls in your class that he looked at. It was maddening, having him on your mind when you were awake and when you were asleep. You’d conjure the dirtiest images of him and you when you were alone at night, not caring in the slightest as you slid a hand into the waistband of your panties, driven to the edge of insanity if you didn’t ease the overwhelming flutters that never seemed to quit. 

You told yourself that what you were doing was innocent, that because Joel was in your proximity, it was only a natural progression that you’d develop something of a crush on him. But what you didn’t account for was how badly you wanted to act on it. How sometimes when you hung around after class, trying to work up the nerve to talk to him, you’d half-expect him to throw you onto his desk and pound into you, roughly, eagerly, your name slipping past his lips as he worshiped your tight cunt. But, he never did. And the more you thought about how much you wanted it, the more it became unrealistic. 

He was your teacher, for fuck’s sake, and you were his student. Nothing would happen and nothing could happen. But at night, when the stillness of the darkness crept in and you were having trouble falling asleep, your mind still strayed to the man old enough to be your father and you’d cum to the thought of him, over and over again, until your sated body and mind lulled to sleep. And then, when your alarm shrieked in the morning and you had to peel yourself from your bed and get ready for the morning, you’d be overcome with shame. Shame and regret. Because you were getting yourself off to the image of a man who probably wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt like a creep. 

You’d go about your day as normally as you could until you saw Joel in class again, and something as innocent as making contact with his hand as he gave you a quiz would ignite those flutters again, making them unquenchable. 

You were currently out with a few friends from your English class, and Jeremy had decided to tag along. The guy was a social butterfly and could fit in with any group easily. It was actually getting on your nerves, how your friends were currently swooning and chatting to him while you just sat there, waiting for them to loop you into the conversation. Jeremy caught your eyes over the shoulder of your friend, Cat, who was shamelessly flirting with him. Not that you minded, it was great that he was looking for someone. You had thought that you’d broken him when you broke up but it must have been all in your head. 

“Let’s dance”, Jeremy said to Cat, taking her hand in his, making her giggle as she stood up from her seat, and letting him guide them to the dance floor. 

You watched as his hands moved down her body, settling on her hips, and swaying them both in time with the slow song that was playing from the jukebox in the corner. Feelings you’d thought you had buried long ago came swelling to the surface, which had nothing to do with Jeremy moving on right before your eyes and everything to do with how lonely you felt. It hadn’t really hit you until this moment, watching two people who you considered friends, getting closer. 

You had a stupid habit of putting your needs on the back burner and suffering because of it. But growing up in a household that would rather see you be quiet than entertain any of your ideas or thoughts or feelings had done a number on you. Instead of seeking out what you wanted, you always held back, afraid of upsetting someone and losing their respect. It was the dumbest hang up but you couldn’t shake it. Even when you were in your twenties, it lingered. The feeling of not being good enough, for anyone. 

You turned around in your seat, giving Jeremy and Cat some privacy, the call of alcohol in whatever form suddenly calling out to you like a siren song. 

“Shots?”, you asked the remainder of your friends, which elicited a resounding and enthusiastic response. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The time was crawling into the early hours and yet you still knocked back shot after shot, not caring much that the bar manager was growing annoyed at you and your still rowdy group of friends, probably seconds away from kicking you all out. Jeremy had brought Cat home hours ago but the rest of you decided that the night was still young, and so were you. 

You’d been dancing for the majority of the night, switching dancing partners as much as you’d switched between different liquors, but you were alone now, moving your hips from side to side as you nursed a drink of some kind, not really knowing what was in it. Your friend, Ayesha came over to you, stumbling and almost knocking into you. 

“Look what I just found”, she slurred, holding her phone near your face. 

You squinted, trying to get the dizziness to subside long enough for you to focus on the image she had pulled up. But it was difficult, you were really drunk. 

“What’s is it?”, you asked, hiccuping loudly. You covered your mouth with your hand. 

“It’s him”, she screeched, jumping up and down, “Professor Miller, I found his Tinder. God, he looks yummy”. 

Your heart sank to the dark and twisted pit in your stomach and you felt like retching right then and there. But, it was inevitable, for the spell to break, it was only a matter of time. Fuck. You rubbed at your eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. Just a really demented trick that your mind was playing on you. But when you removed your hands from your face and everything around you came back into view, you knew it was reality. Because of course a man like Joel Miller, the rugged yet charming English professor from Austin, Texas would have a dating profile. He was surely dating people and having sex. Lots and lots of sex with women his own age, not with his students. 

You took a step back from your friend and uttered something about feeling sick and wanting to go home. They offered to Uber back to your apartment with you but you made up some excuse about it being dirty, so you didn’t want them to see it like that. A short Uber ride and you were sinking down against your front door, running your hands through your hair, and smacking your head back in frustration. You were an idiot, and right now, you were a drunk idiot. 

Getting up from the floor, you fished around in your purse for your phone and settled into bed, not bothering to change or take your make-up off. It was way out of the realm of what you could muster from yourself right now, and honestly, it was a whole task in and of itself. You mindlessly scrolled through various apps on your phone, trying to occupy your mind, anything to not think about the shocking and devastating revelation you’d had tonight. 

You paused when you hit your email inbox, seeing a new email from Professor Miller. You sat up in bed, fumbling with your hair like he could see you through the phone. You clicked into the email, your eyes struggling to focus on the small text. You skimmed it, something about a missing attachment from the previous email you had sent him. You groaned, feeling like your world was spinning on its axis. Maybe it was from the alcohol or maybe it was because of the damning truth that you never had a shot with Joel, to begin with. 

You thumbed the tiny icon to attach the missing document to the email, replied back to him, and threw your phone away from you. Maybe you’d feel better about things in the morning, but you strongly doubted it. Nothing could cure how heartbroken you were and nothing could help you through it. Wallowing would have to do but for tonight, all you wanted was sleep.

taglist: @joeldjarin @pedrorascal @magpiepills @eliza-8 @noisynightmarepoetry @untamedheart81 @eldauvs @paanchusblog

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#teacher x student #teacher crush #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller x original character #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller x plus size reader #coffee shop au #light academia #light acadamia aesthetic #tlou fanfic #tlou #tlou2 #writeblr #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #college student x professor #fanfiction writer #pedro x reader #pedro is daddy #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal imagine

[hookhausenschips]

Maybe It Doesn’t Have To {LN4}

500 Follower Special!!!

Masterlist

Summary: Amid the bustling Miami Grand Prix, Lando Norris and Y/N's once-warm connection had cooled to distant, tension-filled glances, a year after their professional pressures forced them apart. As they navigated their strained dynamic in the high-stakes world of Formula 1, both struggled with the lingering emotions and the possibility of rekindling their relationship.

Taglist

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In the charged, vibrant paddock of the Miami Grand Prix, amid the cacophony of roaring engines and bustling crowds, Lando Norris and Y/N found their eyes locked in a fleeting, tension-filled stare. Once, not too long ago, those glances were warm, filled with private jokes and shared secrets. Now, they were cold embers of a fire that had blazed too bright and burned out too fast.

Y/N had joined the McLaren team as a part of their social media squad two years prior, her creativity and spark immediately catching Lando’s eye. Their connection was instant, easy, the kind that promised something more. Late night strategy sessions turned into early morning coffee runs, and the paddock whispers began to swirl around them. But as the spotlight grew hotter, so did the pressures, and what was once easy became complicated.

“It’s not professional,” they’d been told separately in stern, concerned tones by people whose job it was to care about the image and the optics, not the human heart. They’d nodded, agreeing in principle while their hearts rallied against it in private.

The Grand Prix in Miami was meant to be a celebration, a jewel in the crown of the Formula 1 season, yet for Lando and Y/N, it marked a year since the conversation that had ended everything. That night, under the harsh fluorescent lights of the team’s motorhome, they had decided to step back, to refocus on their careers, promising each other it was for the best.

“So let’s ignore each other, try to pretend the other person doesn’t exist,” Lando had said, his voice breaking, eyes not meeting hers. Y/N had only nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, both of them knowing even then how impossible that would be.

Now, as they stood on opposite sides of the crowded pit lane, pretending to adjust their equipment and check their phones, the weight of that promise hung heavy between them. Y/N could feel the heat of Lando’s stare, the way her heart jumped in her chest as if trying to bridge the gap.

She had thrown herself into her work, her posts and stories gaining the team millions of engagements, her professional face smiling and unblemished by the turmoil underneath. Lando, ever the charismatic driver, continued to charm the world on the track, his performances unaffected, yet those who knew him saw the strain around his eyes, the moments his laughter didn't quite reach them.

Their colleagues, once mutual friends, now navigated this new terrain with caution, a dance of diplomacy that often left Y/N feeling more isolated. At team dinners, she would laugh a little too loudly, staying a little too late, trying a little too hard to appear unaffected.

And Lando, he watched from afar, his heart clenching at the sight of her loneliness mirroring his own. In the confined world of F1, where every move was scrutinized, their earlier decision felt more like a sentence now.

As the race ended and the crowd's cheers echoed off the Monaco cliffs, Lando found her on the edge of the harbour, staring out at the shimmering sea. The sun set behind her, casting a golden glow that framed her like a melancholy painting. Approaching her felt like defying gravity, each step heavier than the last.

“I saw you today,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You were amazing with the fans.”

She turned, her smile sad, eyes glistening. “We were good at pretending,” she replied. “Too good.”

Lando stepped closer, the familiar scent of her perfume making his heart ache. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“No, it wasn’t,” Y/N agreed, her voice steady despite the tears that now freely flowed. “Maybe... maybe it doesn’t have to?”

In the twilight of Monaco, with the stars just beginning to claim the sky, Lando and Y/N faced each other, the world fading around them. What lay ahead was uncertain, possibly fraught with the same challenges as before, but standing there, on the precipice of a new beginning, it was clear that some fires, once lit, refuse to be completely extinguished.

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LN4 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @dhanihamidi

F1 Taglist: @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery

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[dekariosmagic]

Safe and Sound- Gale x Tav/Reader

Paring: Gale Dekarios x Tav/Reader (Referred to as Tav)

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Word Count: 1,515

Description: Gale seemed to take the news from Elinster fairly well, or so it appeared.

Other Things: Fluff. Hurt comfort. Uses lyrics from the song "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift. Pre-relationship (but they're basically there).

Warnings: Panic attack. References to potential story canon suicide.

Elminster’s news had been a bombshell in and of itself on the party. Gale had seemingly taken the news in stride, perhaps the best in the camp. 

Gale made dinner as usual, while everyone avoided the singular topic on all their minds. Tav assumed no one knew how to bring up the topic to the man himself. 

It wasn’t until Gale finished his own portion and took off to his tent for an early night, did the rumbling start. 

Tav did her usual rounds, trying to ignore the feeling of a rock settled in her chest. And with each companion she talked to with their collective rage and disgust toward the situation and goddess of magic, it just seemed to get heavier. 

It felt good to know the rest of them were all on the same page. That they’d rather fight the goddess herself than willingly give up their wizard. 

Hells Tav was ready to take the goddess on herself, as foolish as the task would be. The fact Mystra felt she could demand that of him. The ultimate sacrifice to end a threat to her power, and get rid of a loose end in one go. She’d not spoken to him since the orb incident, and this was how she broke the silence?

Her heart hurt for Gale and herself. The entire situation couldn’t be easy, not nearly as easy as he made it sound as he accepted the mission from Elminster at least. Hearing from an ex of a relationship that ended so badly would be tricky, make her his goddess of magic and it was far more complicated.

And her own feelings complicated it. She wanted to grab him by his shoulders and scream. Tell him to defy Mystra, to think, to not accept this outrageous thing he’s been asked to do. To spurn Mystra’s words and stay here, with her, in this… whatever they were building. 

She’d become far too attached to him already. But everyday at his side just added to the growing list of things she adored about him. The one bright spot in a bleak road ahead. 

Walking to the front of Gale’s tent, Tav freezes as she contemplates calling out to him. Whether she should try to talk tonight, or leave it for later after he’s had more time to think. Or just let him stick to his own resolve entirely…

Her thoughts are cut short at the sound of a broken sob on the other side of the fabric. 

Without a thought, she slips into the tent and throws her arms around his midsection from behind. His body tenses in surprise, but it does little to interrupt the next sob from his lips. 

She squeezes him tighter as his body shakes, using one hand on his front to rub slow circles on his stomach as she rests her head on his back.

“Y-you don’t h-have-“ Gale begins before slapping a hand over his mouth trying to stifle the next sob, sucking air in desperately around it. 

“Gale, I’ve got you. It’s ok to let it out. I’m staying right here, I promise.” 

She feels him nod more than sees it. She sways them slightly as he shakes, taking a moment to spin herself around his body and hold him more tightly from the front. 

His arms quickly wrap around her, his face pressing to her hair. 

Her fingers rub gently into his back as she softly starts to hum a melody, his tears running down onto her as he tries to mumble an apology.

She holds him for what felt like hours, lost in their own moment. His shaking lessens, and the sobs dwindled to small hiccups over time. 

Turning her head to glance around the room, she spots his bedroll a few steps away. 

“Let’s lay down,” she says softly, backing them toward the bedroll and carefully tugging him along with her. 

She drops down to her knees when she reaches it, grabbing his hands to tug him down to the bedding with her. Adjusting his pillows around and finding a blanket, she lies on her back and holds her arms out to him. 

He studies her for a moment before laying down and snuggling into her, his head resting on her shoulder as she pulls the blanket up around them. 

Her fingers slowly card through his hair as he buries his face against her neck, a shuddered breath leaving his lips as his hand grips at her shirt fabric on her stomach. 

She resumes her humming after they settled in, his face turning from her neck to glance up at her. 

“What are you humming?” He asks quietly, his voice raspy and unsure. 

“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I'll never let you go. When all those shadows almost killed your light, I remember you said don't leave me here alone,” she sings softly to the melody she’d been humming. 

“Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone.

“Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound,” she finishes singing, rubbing a hand along his arm. 

“My mother would sing it to me at night when I was upset,” she finally answers. “When times are hard now I hum it to myself. Quite often lately if I’m to be honest.” 

“It’s beautiful,” he responds, his eyes reddened and puffy, but looking at her with adoration. “You’re beautiful. And I’m undeserving of your company.” 

“Oh hush,” she says and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re deserving of far more than you believe. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to have people care about you, and you deserve to live.”

“I… I don’t want to die,” he whispers after a moment. 

“Good, hold onto that,” she says squeezing him closer to her. “I will find another way. We will. There’s always another way. I’m not going to give up on you. You’re enough as you are Gale.”

His face presses back up against the juncture between her shoulder and neck, a shaky exhale on her neck, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” she whispers just loud enough for him to hear as she feels him smile against her skin. 

“Would you stay here with me tonight? Only if you’re comfortable with it,” he asks quickly, keeping his face hidden from her. 

“Of course, I’m always up for a cuddle with my favorite wizard,” her fingers go back to playing with his hair.

“If you only know one wizard, I’m both your favorite and least favorite,” he jokes with a dry chuckle. 

“I’ve met a few, but you make a good point. I’m always up for a cuddle with my favorite person,” she amends. 

His hand drifts from her stomach to her side, holding her closer to him, “If you continue this I might believe you and you’ll be stuck with me, then you’ll be sorry for throwing those words around.”

“Is that a promise?” She grins and lays her head against his. 

“Promise?”

“If I keep saying you’re my favorite and that I care about you, I’ll be stuck with you? Because I can easily keep repeating the truth each day.” 

“I-I don’t know what… I mean, I still have that order and I might, but maybe,” he stumbles over his words, his brow scrunching in thought.

“You don’t have to think about it right now,” her hand lightly grips his chin to turn his head so she can see his face and presses her finger between his brows. “No decisions, sacrifices, or answers are needed right now.”

He blinks rapidly in response, tears building in the corners of his eyes again as he searches her face then nods, lolling his head back against her shoulder.

Tav lets her fingers drift down his cheek, then follows along his jaw slowly, enjoying the prickle of his beard on her skin.

He stretches some in her embrace, leaning into her touch, his eyelids drooping.

“Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake,” she promises as she feels sleep starting to come to her as well. 

“A wondrous sight to awake to I’m sure,” he smile softly, his eyes drifting shut. 

Tav continues to stroke along his cheek and jaw until his breathing evens and his nose twitches in his sleep when her hand accidentally brushes against it. 

Holding back her chuckle, she wraps her arm back around Gale and snuggles her face against his hair, letting her own eyes drift shut. 

She sends out a quick prayer, to any god that may listen, that she find a way to get them all through this. Her new little odd family would all make it through this intact, or she herself would die trying. His goddess may have given up on him, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to. 

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My Main Account: @lykaonimagines AO3 User: Lykao (Marvel, Sherlock, Cyberpunk 2077, and other video game fics)

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