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periprose · 2 days

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Sweet as Nuka Cola

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader

You're an upcoming actress who has a constant flirtation with Cooper Howard. But even if things seem to be off to a good start, a nuclear bomb, a cryogenic pod, and two hundred years of carnage ruins all of it. Is there something to be salvaged from your relationship with Mr. Howard?

Genre: Mutual pining, flirting, slow-burn, angst, friends to kind-of enemies to lovers (no cheating but maybe it's a little murky?)

Word Count: 11k

“Action!”

“Hello. Yes, it’s me.” You wave at the camera, adorned in a classic-red sweetheart neckline dress. “You might know me from ‘Girls Want It All’ or ‘Next Door Babe.’”

Here, you play up your recent bombshell status. As Ed, the director of this advert, keeps reminding you, you need to sell yourself to make customers listen.

You sway in your dress, squeezing your arms and throwing your waist back to plump and push out your chest. The implication of the sex appeal in your movies keeps people watching.

But you’re still a rather new actress, so America might not know you so well. You’re glad Nuka Cola has hired you– if you want to be a star, you need more exposure.

“Do you enjoy feeling refreshed?” You cock your head to the camera, pursing your red lips. “Well, golly, what a silly question. Who doesn't?”

“That's where Nuka Cola comes in.” You lift a bottle out of the cooler next to you, all gentle in demeanour, showing off the logo of the bottle to the camera, in your perfectly manicured hands. “With triple the amount of caffeine found in competitor's bottled cola, it's sure to keep you feeling up for a long, long time.”

“And it's good for you.” Ed whispers, a last minute adlib you did not agree to, but you're a professional, so you add it on with a little wink.

“And it sure as heck is good for you.” You smile, the infamous smile that's won you notoriety to Hollywood execs for being the newest bombshell on the block, and you throw your shoulders back as you really lean into your image.

“Cut! That's a wrap, everyone!” Ed, wanting to finish early, quickly starts ushering everyone out so not a cent more gets spent.

You immediately relax out of your practised, professional smile. “Any ADR needed?”

“Don't think so, but we'll let you know.” The director is already moving onto whatever his next project is. Advertisements make more money than anything else these days.

You head over to catering, where you're craving– not a Nuka Cola, considering how much sugar is in that thing it's hardly refreshing at all– but an iced tea.

You stretch out your ankles in your kitten heels as you prepare it. If you told your Ma back in Mojave that the worst thing about fame would be the uncomfortable outfits, she'd smack you. So you keep it to yourself– you're grateful, you're humble, you'll never be an entitled asshole like those fucking execs.

“Watch out, I'm behind ya.” A man gently presses your shoulder as he walks next to you.

You know that voice. Famous movie cowboy, devilishly handsome, easy to admire. A career worth emulating.

“Mr. Howard?” You turn to look at him, and it is him. Wearing a tuxedo suit, smiling his classic, rugged grin at you.

“The one and the only.” He laughs in a self-deprecating way, as a man tired with his fame and used to mocking it. “Hey, wait, don't I know you?”

You immediately feel your face heat up. “Probably not– lots of people have mistaken me for Lucky Yates so far…”

“No, I do know you.” He points a finger at you, while pouring himself a mug of black coffee. “I told you mister, I'm not here for a long time. Just a good one, and if you can't provide it for me, I'll be inclined to look elsewhere.”

Cooper Howard does a perfect impression of your girly, haughty tone from “Girls Want It All”, and it surprises you that he even knows your dialogue that well. You're not used to this much attention, especially not from one of Hollywood's most notable movie stars.

He says your name.

“Yeah, that's me.” You say sheepishly– even though you know you have to fake that confidence, it's hard when you've been caught off guard. You're starstruck– you don't know how to operate, now realizing that even celebrities are noticing you. “Just shooting an ad for Nuka-Cola.”

“Ah, that’s smart of you.” He leans in– about to give you a bit of Hollywood advice, no doubt– and you feel yourself turning warm at the attention he’s giving you. “I wouldn’t expect any less from one of Hollywood’s upcoming stars– residuals aren’t enough to make the world go round.”

You know he’s admiring your street smarts, but you have to ask. “Upcoming, really?”

“Miss, I’m not sure many other actresses could’ve delivered that little monologue I just did without, er, pardon my language,” Cooper takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes peering down at you over the perimeter of the cup. “Fucking it up. Pantomiming too much wily, feminine shit that execs love, without that little edge of real, subtle emotion. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

You giggle a little. “C’mon, really? I hardly got to act the way I wanted to.”

“That’s how it starts. Little moments, little subtleties where you’re letting your real character shine through– it’s noticeable to the industry. More opportunities come that way. But it’s smart to use, uh…” Cooper swallows, a tiny, imperceptible thing that reminds you of your bombshell image, that he must be thinking about it. “Smart to use such attractive imagery, if you get my drift. The public will eat you up.”

The way he drawls that latter part makes you feel excited, but you keep it down– it’s well known Cooper Howard is a married man, and you are not about to be ruined by an affair. Even if he does sound sort of flirty, this sort of complimenting is so common in Hollywood.

“What are you doing in the advertisement shooting lot?” You ask, changing the subject, and Cooper shrugs, a nonchalant ripple of a movement that tells you his general cool demeanour isn’t just acting.

“Promised my wife I’d shoot an advert for her. Vault-Tec, you know?” He admits, telling you he hasn’t forgotten about his wife, either. “Gotta head to the experimental Vault they’ve set up next door.”

“Yes, of course.” You, like anyone else, have seen the ads of Cooper in the Vault-Tec suit– it’s a rather controversial thing to be partaking in, but you think he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, Nuka-Cola.” He hands you an iced tea– one you didn’t even notice him making for you as you were talking to him. “I’ll see you around.”

The Ghoul walks around the wasteland, two hundred something years into the future.

He’s searching for a bounty– Leopold St. West– worth at least 1000 caps, and it’s terribly difficult to find him when every single person claims he’s in all these different locations, not a single one correlated to each other.

So he’s walking around a destroyed neighbourhood, where Leopold was last seen a day ago, if his fellow ghouls are to be trusted. If he had to guess, these are the remnants of China Town– the faux Asian-esque details, the cheesy red colouring, the false authenticity Hollywood loves to portray as “good as the real thing”. God, Coop does not miss some parts of the fame.

He suddenly stumbles over a piece of the broken sidewalk. Coop’s usually pretty agile, nonchalant on his feet– he knows this feeling. He’s going through withdrawal.

“Shit, I need a minute.” He mutters to himself, feeling a bit woozy.

He's only got a couple more vials of drugs, so he can't be using them all willy-nilly. No, he needs to recoup things and go through this carefully.

Shelter is necessary– the longer Coop is out in the sun, the harsher the effects of withdrawal feel. And, if he’s lucky, one of these buildings might have something for him to loot– more drugs if he’s extra, extra lucky.

Coop enters a nondescript building– where a radroach is waiting, and he immediately fires at it without even looking, killing it in one shot– and he sees the sign over the entry way, marking the lobby.

This is some Hollywood executive-owned club. It’s hard to tell– two hundredyears of wear-and-tear will do that for you– but Cooper Howard distinctly remembers this place, maybe in some conversation back then, maybe when he was networking.

Every single thing has a distinct, thick layer of grime over it. Coop thinks of sweaty strippers dancing, actors cheating on their wives– they’re all probably dead now.

He reaches into his satchel and takes a hit of one of his vials– and hopes he can replace what he uses with something here.

There’s not a single bottle behind the bar, and he jostles through, not seeing a chem or a drug left behind by anyone on the floor or behind the counter, and he’s mildly disgruntled over how every place has nearly everything picked clean by raiders, wastelanders– just other people. Coop will always loathe these other assholes.

He climbs the broken stairs with a lanky, languid stretch, making it over a fairly large hole where a corpse waits on the floor below. A raider who didn’t watch where he was stepping. That tells him there should be loot up on this upper floor– at least a bit of it.

He walks to the one closed door in a less-than-discreet hallway, gold sconces and railings marking the way.

“Ah… private office.” Coop jiggles an ostentatious handle to a mahogany door, that is surely leading to an even more pretentiously ostentatious office, and he finds that it’s locked.

A good sign. Most likely no one’s ever been in there, because it’s probably a difficult lock to pick.

It surprises him that no one’s ever just forced their way through.

Coop doesn’t waste time on this though– he just takes a teeny gun out of his bag, fires it, and admires the hole in the door where the handle used to be. The door creaks open on it’s own, and he saunters into a well furnished, dusty office room.

“Nope, nope, nope…” He pushes box after box in the shelves next to the wall, and they fall with loud clatter– loaded with panicky, nuclear-war-on-the-horizon type shit, like canned meats and beans and preserved jams and pickles. “Fuck no.”

He pushes off a toy figurine of Vault Boy down with extra gusto.

Coop looks behind the desk, where there’s a dusty placard reading Adrian Amos II. He grins– one of the worst producer bastards of all time is not someone he’d feel bad about stealing from, even if there was still some conscience left in him. No, sir, Adrian Amos the second did not deserve any sympathy, especially after the way he was known for bitching about salaries, abusing PAs, and having a predilection for going after less-than-consenting women.

Coop grits his teeth, remembering that asshole and how terrible and gaudy this club was back then. Not that it was better now– but he’s grateful for one man’s deserved death, at least.

He jostles open where the second drawer is filled with the glass clinking sound of many, many vials.

“Fucking jackpot, Jesus.” Coop stares down at how many there are– at least 40 or 50– a hell of a lot to just be left behind.

Well, based on the other supplies, Adrian Amos got fucked over and either didn’t make it to his vault in time, or forgot to run to his private club before heading in.

Coop doesn’t give a fuck, though. He starts piling the vials into his cases, and then back into his bag.

There’s a sudden whirring sound near him. “Huh?”

To his left, an imperceptible secret door has pushed itself outwards, decorated in the same dark brown wallpaper as the rest of the room.

Coop looks down and under– he’s accidentally pressed a secret button on the underside of the drawer. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t know what would be inside the secret room– assassins, raiders waiting on someone to dupe? Maybe even synths, just meant to protect Amos when he needed it.

Inside the room, it’s dark, and he can’t make out anything. Coop can only draw his gun rapidly when there’s a blue light suddenly emitting out from the inside.

He’s careful as he approaches– last thing Coop wants is an ambush– and as his vision improves, he sees it’s a cryonic pod, all frosted over so he can’t make out who’s inside.

Coop sighs, ready to leave it behind– he’s not interested in waking up Amos– and instead, the thing whirs, heating up it’s insides with extremely hot steam, and then opens up with a mechanical flourish.

Coop instinctively steps back, coughing “Holy shit!” as the air whooshes past him.

A body falls out, just looking slightly frosted– mostly thawed by whatever the cryo tank just did.

You're on set again, sitting in a free lawn chair while others get ready for their take– it's not for a Nuka-Cola ad, it's just a guest appearance on everyone's favourite sitcom, The Grady Group, where you play an overly promiscuous babysitter who has no sense for watching over kids.

It's comedic, it's an easy way to get laughs– plus it actually boosts the shows’ ratings since you've been in movies and all. You’re done filming already, you’re just sitting here watching the rest of the shoot, dragging out your return to your car, and then back home.

Something about the fictional family you wait on, Gill and Gina Grady, and their kids Gideon, Gessica, and Gwen, it makes you miss having a family of your own. In fact, you have half a mind to call your mother, despite all the bitching she’ll give you about the things you haven’t done yet.

It also doesn't help that Gill and Gina are a couple in real life– named Arthur and Bea Smith, they really, really are in love, and in between takes they're often canoodling with each other.

You're happy for them, if not a little– jealous, despite the fact that you're not interested in dating anyone right now. At least, you thought you weren't, but you find that lately, when you return back to your apartment all lonesome after a shoot, you feel like something is missing.

“Hey. Nuka-Cola.” Cooper Howard strolls over to where you're sitting, and you smile up at him, covering your eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Mr. Howard. Shooting today?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just lounging around, waiting for my kid.” He sits in the lawn chair next to you, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Janey is on a field trip at a museum next door– I thought I’d kill some time before picking her up.”

“Ah, cute.” You grin. Janey Howard is an absolutely precious kid– she shares her dad’s smile, but has a curious nature that you admire. “Is she well?”

“As well as kids can be at that age, running around all the time.” Cooper shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“Kind of. I actually did used to babysit kids, so I know– they can never sit still or mind their business.” You laugh as Cooper grins.

“So you went method for your guest appearance, huh?” He asks, and you’re mildly baffled.

“How do you know about that?” You squint at him, just being jokingly suspicious.

“Oh, I saw a few clips of your footage. While I was walking over here.” He points over at Stu, the director, standing on the living room set, watching clips on his viewfinder. “Seemed pretty natural to me.”

It almost bothers you that he seems so interested in you and your work, that he always voices support– but he’s well-known for being happily married, for being content in general, unlike you.

Still, better a friend than nothing at all, that’s what you always tell yourself.

“Thanks. But it’s not hard being around kids, is it?” You reminisce being a kid in Mojave, playing with your friends on your street– and then as a young adult, babysitting new kids that still wanted to play with you. “I still sometimes feel like I’m just a kid pretending to be an adult.”

“That never goes away, darlin’.” Cooper laughs, and you blink. “Being an actor, especially, you’re never losing that childhood sense of wonder, you get my drift?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod. “I just don’t feel complete, I guess. I’m still waiting for the moment I’ll know I’m an adult– like maybe if I get married or something like that.”

“Being married didn’t change that for me either. Neither did being a dad.” He winces, and scratches at his stubble. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that, but I think it’s all apart of being a human person.”

Your face turns a little more glum at that, and he wonders what he said that bummed you out. It’s not his intention– he wants to cheer you up.

“What’s with the sad, forlorn, ‘I’m-a-pretty-girl-come-comfort-me’ look?” Cooper utters as he leans in, and you laugh a little but silence yourself, recognizing his compliment.

It’s dangerous to flirt with this guy, this taken man who has nothing to gain but a bit of affection he may be missing, but you see that he knows his compliment had effect anyways– and he definitely likes that.

You just choose to assume it’s entirely friendly.

“I just… I like the thought of having a family.” You suck in air,at how foolish and girly this sounds, hardly the cutthroat businesswoman you need to be out here. “This is stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Cooper taps his arm rest, thinking. “You’re hurting, I can tell. You got that same pissed off look most ladies get when they ‘don’t wanna talk’ but they’re holding tons of shit inside.”

Damn this guy, you think, but you decide to be honest.

“I just didn’t think it’d be so lonely out here. In Hollywood.” You press your palms together. “Like, everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by classic Americana, the nuclear family– and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m jealous.”

“As a bachelorette, don’t you got plenty of options?” Cooper grins. “I mean, are men not lining up to court Nuka-Cola girl?”

“Ah…” You hum, thinking of dates you’ve had here, settling back in your seat. “I don’t know– it’s cheesy but I want more sincerity.”

“In that case, don’t be jealous, marriage ain’t all that.” Cooper tuts, knowing that you of all people should hear about how it doesn’t complete you. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a magical fairy-tale where everything gets solved, it’s a hell of a lot more work than people let on.”

“Oh.” You knew that, deep down– but hearing it from him really solidifies that for you. It’s a silly dream.

It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, so you quiet down. But you’re not trying to get your hopes up about that or anything.

“And you’re not an idiot, Nuka-Cola. Don’t get into something you’re not a hundred fucking percent sure about.” Cooper clicks his tongue. “If you really feel the urge to suddenly go and play wife with someone, just for me, make sure he’s absolutely worth it.”

“For you?” You raise your eyebrows at that.

“I figure you won’t do it for yourself. Love is blind and all that.” He points at himself. “But if I, as your buddy Cooper, hold you to that? I’ll bet that you’ll vet every single guy.”

“Oh, really.” You smirk at him, your nose scrunching a little. “Is that for my benefit, or yours?”

“Uh…” Cooper is truly caught off guard here. He knows he didn’t intend anything by what he said, but it does feel like… he won’t enjoy the fact that if the next few times he talks to you, continuing become close to you, he’ll have to get the approval of some man.

Some man who wouldn’t even know you as long he has known you. He always likes his chats with you, and there’s an urge inside him not to let you go.

He thinks again that you’re a little too spontaneous. Not easy to dupe, no– he can’t just flirt with you for fun because you’ll always pick up on it, even if he did it by mistake.

“No comment.” He finally answers with a raspy, low tone, one that you barely hear but are satisfied by.

A few months later, you check your face in your little compact mirror before stuffing it in your purse and heading inside Sebastian Leslie’s home. Exciting, yes, because this is the first time you’ve been invited not just to network, not just because a big name has seen you in the movies and wants to flaunt that they know you tangentially.

No, this is the first time you know someone, you’re actually in with a crowd– you’re friends with the host. You don’t feel nearly as awkward walking into Sebastian’s comfortable home and seeing familiar faces that you’re close with, decor that you already recognize.

“There she is.” Sebastian greets you with a tight hug– for a massive flirt he’s actually rather protective of you sometimes. “Love the dress, by the way– is that a vintage Chanel? Black is very flattering on you, my dear.”

You get the sense he didn’t want you to be involved in this industry sometimes, but other times– he likes that you put work in.

“I saw your newest advertisement on TV yesterday.” He comments, and you giggle.

“Was it good?”

“Yeah, amazing as usual– but you gotta do more than that.” Sebastian holds your hand as he pulls you into the crowd of other low-level actors, people who could risk showing up, really, and you fix your dress, a black one with a low square neckline. “Look into Vault-Tec– I’ve been telling Cooper here about how our futures are totally going to be surrounded by their products, even though that fucker does not want to listen.”

Cooper’s lounging in a low sofa in the pit of this living room, holding a crystal glass full of amber liquid, black button up shirt half open– he looks dishevelled, hair slightly askew, jaw off-kilter as he presses his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Lost by something, but still put together as celebrities are. Geez, you really need to temper your attraction to him.

It doesn’t help how he looks at you, either– there’s something deep and reverent about his gaze, like he wants to believe whatever he sees when he’s looking at you– but you have no idea if it’s real, or if it’s just an act like with most of these celebrities.

You used to see him a lot more frequently too, over the last few months. Either at set, or at more fancy parties– most of which he’s been perfectly pleasant and kind to you.

“Of course you’d label me as some fucking chairman for them, Seabass.” Cooper slams back half a pint of whisky, and pours himself some more. “Hey, Nuka-Cola.”

“Hey, Mr. Howard.” You smile gently. You’ve heard about his divorce– everyone has, but you’re not 100% sure why it’s happened, why now when things seemed to be going so well for him.

Well is relative, though. You know loads of actors have decried him privately– no one wants to hang out with the man promoting the end of the world, apparently. It must be a tough thing to only be hired for your wife’s advertisements– and even then, you don’t exactly agree with what they’re marketing, either.

You don’t feel so strongly against Cooper, though. Maybe because you do like him– but also because you know what it’s like to have your image connected to something you don’t really promote. Nuka-Cola isn’t healthy, it’s got enough sugar to induce instant death when drank regularly. But you do it for the connections, the money– and you’re sure Cooper did too.

“Cooper is fine.” He grumbles, and you remember his last name is maybe a sore subject right now.

“Sorry.” You do your best to be delicate as you sit next to him, and Sebastian sits on the other side of you. “How’re you, Cooper?”

“Not bad. If you count being divorced as being alright.” He sighs, and you feel terrible that you even asked. “It’s like I never knew her, man– I thought Barb was different. Or they changed her, I don’t fucking know.”

“She had her eyes set on the prize. As did you, Coop.” Sebastian states, and Cooper turns, affronted.

“We’re all interested in money and glory, Seabass. Fuck you if you think otherwise.” Cooper tenses, and you feel a bit awkward listening in on this conversation.

“What did I say that negates that? I’m as money hungry as they come.” Sebastian shrugs. “I only meant that– despite it all, making money was what you had in common, evidently not the world-going-nuclear shit. Maybe you’ve got a heart of gold, a change of mind, I don’t know, Cooper. But throwing away an easy life just to pay alimony must be fucking awful, so I just don’t think you’re in it for the money anymore.”

“You’re fucking telling me.” Cooper sniggers. “I don’t think Barb cares. I’m here with no career, and she’s out there getting promoted in Vault-Tec. As for the heart of gold… any former marine would’ve been against that shit.”

You want to ask what shit, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You get the general fear of nuclear war– but Cooper sounds more personally affected by it.

Cooper glances over at you. “What do you think? Better to be richer than you can spend in a lifetime, or to be out with a good conscience?”

“I don’t know if I’m that interested in money.” You say honestly, and Cooper raises his eyebrows.

“Really? Nuka-Cola’s a saint, huh.” He chuckles– he’s clearly a bit buzzed.

“No, I’m not. Of course I want to have a career.” You think about this carefully, so it doesn’t sound insincere. “Making money is nice– but I don’t think I have the right to say it should come at the cost of human lives. You know Nuka-Cola is terrible for you, right? ”

Cooper stares at you for a moment too long, and then looks away. “Yeah… addicting.”

He’s definitely not talking about Cola, but you continue on. “Yeah, so just in that way– I disagree with how much power marketing has. We’ve convinced America that they need this– just so some chairman can make an extra dollar.”

Cooper looks at you, renewed by whatever you just said. “Hell, woman after my own heart. That’s damn true.”

“Yes, yes, you two oblivious flirts– there’s no art in filmmaking anymore, just commercialism. Not like it hasn’t been the case for a century.” Sebastian chimes in, and you bite your lip, pretending not to notice how Cooper’s face is smirking bashfully. “But, babe. You’re going to want to make your money before the world fucking ends.”

“What’s that?” You startle, and Cooper laughs sardonically at your surprise, while Sebastian gets up.

“Let me get myself a drink– I hardly want to tell this story sober.” He leaves, and Cooper has half a heart to glare at him– he knows Sebastian is leaving the two of you alone so he can do the dirty work.

Not like his reputation can ever get better, especially by telling this story again with it’s lurid details, but at least it doesn't hurt that he's with you.

“What does he mean by that, Mr. Howard?” You wince at your use of that. “Sorry– I meant Cooper.”

“Ah, call me what you’d like.” Cooper takes another sip of his drink, leaning back in the couch to the point where he is practically lying down and against you. “It sounds good coming out of your mouth no matter what you pick, Nuka-Cola.”

Now that’s a suggestive, loaded line, and you feel a little more comfortable flirting with him even if it’s a bit of a rebound for him. The end of the world is approaching, right?

“The end of the world?” You prod at him, and he sighs, leaning against your shoulder.

“It’s fucking ridiculous, what it is… probably never going to happen anytime soon.” Cooper’s tone of voice is hazy as he examines his last sip of whisky in the glass. “No, no. Just something those fucking commies put in my head. I guess they’re not really commies, are they?”

“Unless you elaborate, I can’t say.” You utter back at him, and he pushes down a smile.

“Alright. Vault-Tec’s been selling this nuclear protective stuff, right?” He says, and you nod, your cheek brushing against the top of his hair. “All I can say is that a few… radicals, if you will, think that Vault-Tec might actually be more involved with it than they say. Like, they might be…”

“Not just protective, huh? More offensive? Everyone’s got that feeling, Mr. Howard. And that doesn't sound like a particularly commie-train-of-thought to me.” You hear the sorrow in his tone, even if he’s trying to make it sound like a rumour. “Did you hear this from your ex-wife?”

Cooper winces here. He still feels slightly guilty about spying on her. A part of him thinks they might’ve not divorced if he hadn’t found out– but he knows he was bound to find out eventually, and he would’ve just delayed the inevitable.

“Maybe, Cola. Maybe you’re just sharp.” He whispers, and you smile and he feels it– your skin is intoxicatingly close right now.

“So, odds are?” You ask, just curious, and he exhales.

“Bad. I have to agree with them.” He admits, and it feels exhilarating to admit this– that Vault-Tec is gonna nuke the world at some point, that the radicals are more like minded to him than he’s wanted to believe in the past. “Even if it didn’t cost my movies, I regret partaking in what they were selling.”

That’s a big thing for him to say– you know Cooper loves acting, he absolutely adores playing a hardened sheriff, the last vestige of goodness in the wild, wild west. All the times you’ve visited him on his set– probably during his last contractual movie, now that you think about it– and he was always so excited to show off the architecture and intricacies of the fictional western town they’d set up, share script details and little character quirks so you could have an insider’s viewpoint. He even donned his cowboy hat on you, saying you wore it like a natural.

He loved being the hero, really.

He lights a cigarette, and takes a puff.

“Most big-name connections refuse to talk to me because of this stuff– I’ve basically been dropped out of phonebooks all together. They think I’m still in on it, they think I’ve only stopped because of backlash–” He stops as you begin to scratch his scalp, still leaning against your shoulder, but getting progressively into your neck area.

Jesus, that feels good. He thinks. He hasn’t been intimate in a while– Barb became increasingly more cold to him over the last few months, as their marriage kept falling apart.

“Backlash, really?” You whisper.

“Yeah.” He stutters for just a moment, because your eyes are peering into his, and for a moment he thinks you could really make it as just a bombshell if you wanted to– then he takes another puff. “When really, I was just backing out of what I thought was really a massive crime against humanity.”

“Are you only telling me this to validate your poor conscience? Remedy that reputation a little?” You ask, and he presses his lips together.

“Well, I'll be honest, yeah. Of fucking course I'd tell the one woman who seems to be like me on this.” He sounds so certain of you, sounds so sure that you're on his side.

And you absolutely are.

“The world’s about to end, Mr. Howard. You're not a bad man for not wanting to support it. I'm inclined to agree.” You inhale deeply, and Cooper stares at you– something stirs inside him as he does.

“Kiss me, then. Humour me– since none of this will matter soon.” Cooper murmurs, lying on top of your chest now, the smoke from his cigarette enveloping your face.

He’s so close you barely have to move to oblige to what he’s said– you're second guessing yourself for just a moment, because it feels like a dream that he'd ask you to do this, so out of the blue, such a picture perfect fantasy that you almost don't care about the impending doom, and you press your lips gently to his in an upside-down kiss, his hair brushing against your open cleavage, but Cooper is insistent and leans upward, kissing you with such intensity that your head is spinning afterwards.

God, now that's a movie star kiss. You think.

He kisses you again as Sebastian returns, drink in hand.

“Oi! You two. Jesus Christ, can't keep your hands off each other, can you?” Sebastian pretends to vomit. “C’mon, if I want to talk to you at my party, I should have that right.”

You attempt to pull away– but Cooper, being a little mischevious, perhaps wanting to show off in a way he hasn’t been able to, sits up right and kisses you again, this time normally, just very slowly and passionately though, slithering an arm around your waist in a way that has Sebastian rolling his eyes.

“Okay, present.” He says, not pulling his arm off your waist.

“Thanks.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I was thinking we should take the mood off with some party games…”

It's about 2 AM when you've finally left the party. Cooper didn't want to let you go– he's crashing at an apartment for the time being, but you really don't want to waste yourself on being his rebound, if he really likes you.

You tell him as much, and he likes that– you really are rather sharp about things.

“Well. Gimme a call when you realize I'm not kidding around with you.” He says unabashedly, holding your hand, kissing it as you leave.

You’re absolutely sure he's drunk, and he's being a little too clingy– but you want to believe him anyways.

You walk back to your car, alone. Thinking about if Cooper is worth the damage it could have on your potential career. But then again– the end of the world is coming, right?

So maybe it won’t matter. And you find that you like this, the secret potential of this option, just hanging out with Cooper in a place that used to be America, no more expectations on you both. There’s also the chance you just both die, though.

You shudder.

You don't notice that there's a man in the backseat of your car when you get in, brandishing a chloroform stained cloth.

The Ghoul prods at the body that's just fallen out of the cryo pod.

Oh fuck.

It's starting to stir, whoever it is, and Coop knows he's ready, if this is really some synthetic android-clone thing, to make their life hell. Get some of his anger out on something that doesn’t matter.

Wait– he recognizes that cherry red fabric. That coiffed hair, frosty after being inside the pod. Oh, Jesus… even the makeup is the same as when he last saw you.

“Ah… shit.” He chuckles to himself in exasperation, because this is beyond belief. “Nuka-Cola, is that you?”

You tilt yourself to the side, eyes bleary, unable to see clearly. Everything’s dark. But you know that voice, you just heard it a couple of days ago.

“Mr. Howard?” You croak out, and he hisses inwards– nobody has called him that in centuries. Nobody knows who he is… except for you, of course.

“The one and the same, baby.” He licks the side of his gums, deciding to stick with his identity for now. “Well, maybe a little different. You wouldn't happen to know what a Ghoul is, huh?”

“What?” You don't know how long your vision is going to stay black for, but you don't like the sound of that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Eyes haven't been opened for… two hundred years. I'll give you some time, Cola.” He sighs; cracks his neck, while you sink back into the floor. “Just imagine the ugliest horror-picture monster you can imagine. Zombie, no nose. That paint a picture for you?”

“...”

“What was that?” Coop can't hear you when your voice is muffled into the tiles of this secret room. He grasps your hair gently, from the root, pulling your head upwards so you'll speak– clearly you don't have the strength to lift up your body.

“I said, how is that any different from before?”

“Oh, she's still a jokester.” Coop scoffs– despite himself he snorts– and he lets go of your hair so you land back on the floor with a thump.

“–Ow!” You flinch, and then turn over so you’re on your back. “Still an asshole, huh?”

“Me?” He grins maliciously. Ooh, maybe he can use some misplaced anger on you. “You're the one who didn't call back for several weeks.”

“How could I? You can see I've been trapped in a cryo thing for… however long. Did you say two hundred years?” You flatly ask, and Coop still thinks you're lying.

“Yes, and bullshit. You probably had a couple weeks since I last saw you to call me.” He states, and he doesn’t actually hold a grudge, at least not that much of it in comparison to all the other horrid shit that’s happened to him– he just thinks it's funny to push your buttons after all of that, like looking into a mirror of the past– and you groan.

“No, I didn't. I got in my car after Sebastian's party, and some goon sprayed something in my face, I passed out, and he drove me here.” You start, and you begin frowning in such a way that Coop almost feels bad.

“Why you, sweetheart?” He shakes his head. “You weren't exactly high up in popularity yet.”

“Exactly. No one would miss me.” You spit out bitterly, remember the end to that night, where you were so unaware of your surroundings, and terrified of being assaulted as you were pushed around into this room, blindfolded.

“Adrian fucking Amos, the fucking Second, thought it would be great if I just became his permanent doll during the apocalypse.” You swallow, and Coop sits down next to you, to listen more clearly. You shift towards his body heat– and to his surprise, he still likes that. “See, his daddy has shares in Vault-Tec, so he decided before nuclear fallout happened, he wanted a guaranteed sex slave from his favourite advertisements.”

“Nuka-Cola.” Coop utters with the slowest drawl, concluding your statement– and you like that.

“Yeah, Nuka fucking Cola.” You grimace. “Then he undressed me, put me in this little number, and threw me in the pod. I barely remember this shit because I was so out of it.”

“Shame. I always wondered why you never called me back.” Coop circles back to his little grudge– but he also feels bad, feels some level of guilt that neither he nor Sebastian had the sense to look out for you back then, and you were practically assaulted (maybe actually so if you didn't remember).

“Yeah, because I wanted to miss out on that piece of ass. Sure.” You joke feebly, and Coop laughs despite himself.

“Honey, you're gonna run away screaming when you finally see me. Don't worry about it.” He shakes his head. “The real world's a lot more fucking difficult than would'ves and could'ves.”

“Okay, explain. If you're willing to owe me that much.” You start, and Coop gets reminded of that fateful night a couple hundred years ago, where he was the one to clue you into the impending nuclear war.

Not even three months later, it was all over, and you were nowhere in sight– if his mind ever did drift to you, the what-ifs and who-knows that still persisted– he would always assume you were dead.

Now he thinks you're just unfinished business.

“Fine.” He taps your shoulder, and you lean a little closer towards him– you touch his hand, and instead of flinching as many people have in the past– you trace the tough, callused skin there.

He thinks there’s something wrong with you. Why do you seem drawn to him anyways? You’re completely fucking up his tough guy, lone-wolf persona by being here, and he wants you gone. He pulls away his hand, ignoring how your face falls for a moment.

Coop inhales, and then starts. “In October 2077, they nuked America, bombed it all to hell. By they, I think we both know what I’m implying.”

“It wasn’t the Chinese.” You interrupt, and he shushes you.

“Yeah, Cola.” He starts playing with his fingers, feeling like you don’t deserve to be here right now. That you should’ve just stayed dead. “Vault-Tec destroyed it all.”

It’s no good. He’s an old man, and you’re still as soft and young as ever. He’s always haunted by his past, like with Barb and Janey, and then Sebastian’s voice in every single Mr. Handy robot he comes by, and then finally, his last couple memories with you.

“The last two hundred something years have been filled with carnage, death, unspeakable horrors that your pretty little mind could never comprehend.” He grits out, pushing past the past and remembering that this is who he is now– a killer– and you stare at him vacantly, because his tone is so much more serious suddenly. “Nothing is the same. Everyone has blood on their hands, water is a fucking commodity, if you’re not watching out for humans to betray you, hideous creatures like me roam the ground, and that ground? Sands, deserts, barely a hint of green. It’s nothing worth coming back to.”

“So you’re saying I’m in hell.” You suddenly inhale harshly, and Coop ignores the urge to check on you.

The last thing he needs is an extra person to take care of– especially someone who doesn’t know the Wasteland. So it’s better now that he just weans you off and leaves you here.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And I'm the devil.” Coop sucks on his teeth again. “If you had any sense, you’d go back into that fucking freezer until some utopia is born four hundred years from–”

You flinch, and he stops.

“Oh, God, my eyes–”

The sight comes back slowly then all at once. Light everywhere, overwhelming your senses.

You blink, tears rolling down your face.

“Maybe it would’ve been better if you stayed blind, Cola.” He stares at you as you rub your eyes, taking in the state of the room.

It’s a warning, but you look up at him again anyways. And Coop waits for the utter horror, for the sign that he really has transformed into a monster, so he can hurry up and leave– this entire conversation with you is just him finishing Cooper Howard’s past with a bow. A shiny, Nuka-Cola-red bow.

“...” You swallow, and then bite your lip, tilting your head up at him. “Couldn’t let go of the cowboy identity, huh?”

Coop furrows his non-existent eyebrows, disliking how hard you’re making this, how clever you still seem to be– you also seem way too relaxed with him. He has half a mind to fire a warning shot at you. “Yeah, okay, darlin’. You’re just avoiding facing that horrific, bile-inducing sensation in your throat, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, disagreeing immediately. “You might look– a little less like how I remember you, I guess… but you’re still you. I see it, and apparently so do you.”

How dare you? Coop thinks, how dare you intertwine his two images together so easily when he could never be the same man again, when just seeing an old VHS tape of one of his movies pains him?

“Yeah, no thanks. If this is your way to get me to valet you around, I’m not that man anymore, Nuka-Cola.” He resents the way you think he could still be good– just because his western image brings him a little comfort nowadays. “Not a sheriff anymore.”

Your face drops, but you seem to take that information readily. “Yeah, I figured that based on your outfit, the little blood splatters on your pants… if that’s how the world is, then so be it.”

You’re saying things that on paper should be right– but Coop is getting more and more disgruntled with you, and you feel like you need to separate yourself from him. Yes, tough, because to you it’s been all of forty-eight hours since you kissed him– but you can see, no matter how deep the original Cooper Howard is inside this new Ghoul, you’re not going to be able to bring him out.

You stand up, on shaky, bare feet, and motion for Coop to move out of the way. Independent woman to the end, you are, and you want to get your bearings without him.

Coop internally sighs. He doesn’t believe for one second you’ll survive out there– and he really doesn’t need to spend the time seeing you die, so he turns around, and leaves you here.

He never did find Leopold St. West, much to his chagrin– you really, really messed up his day.

It happens. Sometimes he’ll see Janey in another person’s eyes and freak out, and have to boil it down by murdering random raiders.

But now Coop is just spiteful. He’s always figured that a lot of what happened to the world was just a bunch of rich people picking and choosing a destiny for themselves to the detriment of everyone else, and now he’s aware that included you, too. To casually be grabbed away by some man, just because he was rich… Coop isn’t unsympathetic to how you ended up, even if he treated you quite poorly. It’s sickening.

Two hundred years of quiet, always-dwelling agony, the first few years out of fear for being alone, and the next few years spent conspiring about what could’ve happened to his family– and then here you are as confirmation of his worst theories.

No wonder he enjoys his casket time.

Coop sighs.

Vaultie is hard to keep track of. She got away with murder this time at the organ harvesting clinic– so Coop finds it easier to stop working with her, to move when he wants to.

The Govermint (really just Booker’s shitty gang) was rather easy to dismantle. The two sheriffs that he killed required no expertise on his part.

He’s thinking about the fact that since Moldaver is still alive, and apparently that fucker Hank MacLean, then that means there’s a good chance Barb and Janey are too– perhaps he could go and find them.

It’s an odd urge, though. Everytime he thinks about it, he wonders how he’s actually supposed to connect with them again– they’ve been fractured for so long, and he’s changed, and there’s a good chance neither of them would accept him like this.

But you did, didn’t you? You were on the verge of saying yes, you’d accept him– as if nothing had changed.

Coop grumbles. The big, significant difference is that you were infatuated with him, but Barb divorced him, and Janey was too young to make that choice. He considers that it could be a pipe dream, but he still has hope– for Janey, at least.

He thinks you’re probably dead anyways. He hasn’t seen you in several months, since that day where he unceremoniously woke you up– and he hopes it stays that way.

He's chilling in another small, scrappy area of the wasteland. Nobody bothers the Ghoul, not when he's casually fiddling with his gun and and chewing on a toothpick.

A man runs past him, holding a significantly valuable piece of Brotherhood equipment. Maybe worth thousands of caps if he knows his shit, and he does. That’s a fusion core, and they’re not exactly mass producing those anymore during the apocalypse.

Coop points his gun at him, finger on the trigger, seconds away from creating a bloody mess–

A blade thwacks into the guy’s neck, blood spurting as he falls and chokes. A person– a woman– jumps on his back, her face obscured by a deep green bandana . She yanks out the knife, stabs a few more times for good measure– and Coop knows the game, he’s not surprised he’s not the only one to go after this guy.

He’s pretty good at killing casually, and he barely even moves from where he’s standing, aiming the gun at her.

No way is he letting easy money pass by him.

He’s about to pull the trigger extra-quick when she yanks the bandana down, taking a deep breath as she sweats, and Coop actually misses.

It’s you. You stare up at him from where you’re squatting over the body, and your gaze hardens, furrowed brows, dark lashes, intensely dark pupils. You purse your lips, press them together, jaw set in a stern fashion, recognizing him but refusing to hear him out– and Coop doesn’t know why he’s not firing, but he’s almost… enamoured with how you are now, almost taken aback by your new nature.

Not so taken aback that he doesn’t immediately start firing when you take the fusion core and start running.

And Coop doesn’t want to actually kill you, he just wants to incite some damage. See how far you can take it.

You interweave through random gaps in the metal scraps of this little abode, seeking shelter as you do so, and Coop’s gunfire only ricochets off them with cartoony sounding “pings!”

He manages to graze your left thigh through a small window, and you inhale sharply, stopping as you grit through the pain.

Coop grins to himself. This little cat and mouse chase is what he expected, what was predictable from you– you’re smart enough to stay on the defense, but you would probably never attack him, avoiding him because of your sad feelings of the old times, never resort to carnage unless you needed to–

You shove past the walls where you’ve been roaming, and manage one kick against his stomach and he manages to grab you and restrain you, your back against his front.

You grab his own jacket for purchase, and instead of pulling forward– you push back, landing on top of him with a thud that surely hurts him. Coop clenches his teeth, back against the ground now, but you scramble, straddling him. Hands around his throat, knife pressed against one of his tendons. Not outright strangling him, but just enough pressure that he knows you’re seriously threatening him.

Holy fuck, have you changed. Just like Vaultie, maybe you’re showing your honest self– and Coop supposes it may have been his mistake to underestimate you.

“Got a whole new outfit… I like it.” He admires your new leather jacket, cargo pants around your thighs pushing his arms down, a blouse fashioned out of your old Nuka-Cola dress. Tough combat boots dig into his thighs as you push against him. “Don’t fucking start–” You squeeze a little harder and he groans, the tip of the knife pushing in. “With your on and off, hot and cold bullshit.”

Ooh, it sounds like you have a little bit of a grudge over how you were treated.

“Get over it, Cola. It was centuries ago, whatever we had.” He spits out, and you have a glint of sadness in your eyes.

He knew you were a little too gushy for your own good– not even he adapted that quickly to the wilderness of the Wasteland. He waits for you to make the mistake, apologize, break down– and then he can take the core and get out of here.

But you’re still firm in your grasp of him, your weight pushing him down, blade against him.

You’re not angry about back then. You’ve come to terms with that.

You’re angry at the state of the world.

“You know what I fucking hate, Ghoul?” You spit in his face, and he blinks, spittle now on his chin. “You are all so selfish. I got left behind, likely for dead, right, and nobody gives a shit, whatever. But instead of me hoping that the leftover crumbs of society would at least try to be, I don’t fucking know, more hopeful and kind, or at the very least, not be so fucking greedy and transparently trying to be the new party in charge.”

“You’re living in a dream world.” Coop interrupts, and he’s rewarded with you carving a small, little cut on his cheek, a rapid movement you hardly think about, and it causes him to inhale sharply, a drop of blood smearing across his face.

“Oh, no. I’m not asking for everyone to hold hands and play family.” You laugh suddenly, and then somehow lean in closer, and Coop finds that in some fucked up way he enjoys the pressure against him. “It’s bullshit, that kind of image making– you and I both know that. But for all this supposed talk against the rich billionaires who ruined our lives, how are we not just emulating them?”

Coop is actually drawn to silence.

“Maybe you actually got fooled by self-image, Cola.” He murmurs. “Or maybe that’s just people’s true nature.”

You don’t like that answer. You don’t actually want to believe that, but the more you think about it, the more it’s probably true. People lie all the time, but the amount of outrage you’ve heard from people the last few months, bemoaning Vault-Tec and all those rich fuckers, you were inclined to believe they wouldn’t act the exact same way.

Just at a different level. Power corrupts all, you guess.

You loosen your grasp a little. “Thank you.”

It’s honest, and Coop doesn’t like how much he does like your nature of trusting him– how even as this new, terrible version of yourself, you still trust him, and you still ask for his advice.

He doesn’t know what to make of this, but he thinks maybe he can get some use out of you yet.

Coop wrangles his arm from out under your thigh, where you’ve accidentally let a gap through, and shoves you over.

You fall with a gasp, hitting the ground, and he stands up and kicks you for good measure, while you screech in pain.

Coop picks you up by your throat, and you instantly move to fighting– your blade against his stomach, teeth gritted in resolute urge to kill– but he’s got his pistol at your neck, and the way he brushes it against you is almost like a lover’s embrace.

“One thing I hate is a fucking liar, Cola.” He grumbles, and you glare at him. “You’re not some innocent– why else do you got a fusion core in your pocket?”

“I never claimed I was a good woman.” You shake your head. “I just wonder why the Brotherhood, the Enclave, hell, even some of the Raiders… everyone wants the ultimate piece of the pie.”

“Besides, you’re the one who kept saying to survive out here I’d have to be a killer.” You remind him, and he looks down at you, thinking. “The world’s grieving– I don’t blame it for that, I feel the same way.”

You’ve still got a way with words, he thinks, and he was right. He can use you for his benefit.

“Say, Nuka-Cola. Why don’t we take some of those fuckers down?” He stills. “Not randoms. The power-hungry pie-eaters, like how you so eloquently put it.”

You don’t fully trust him again, but you’re into the prospect. You don’t want power, and you know he doesn’t either, but it’s not just looting. No, no, this is something akin to revenge.

“Alright.” You whisper.

“Alright. Okay, I won’t shoot if you don’t cut me.” He speaks softly, slowly, trying to cajole you out of attacking– and you move as he does.

The threatening air of before is gone now, and the Ghoul has only a odd stare for you, something that makes you feel watched, almost reminding you of two centuries ago. It could be that he doesn’t trust you either– and so you walk onward with a gap between you two, heading to wherever a faction that needs fucking up could be.

Coop strolls inside the makeshift bar as you make conversation, staying within the shadows. It’s not on official Enclave grounds, it’s simply a nearby bar where members have been known to hang out.

He doesn’t exactly mind being the one to pick up the slack of killing people– he can tell you’re good at charming people what with your former bombshell acting techniques, your silly, soft blinks, the way how your skin still looks smooth and untouched.

Was it all a lie with him? Aw, shit, why does he care? He really doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s been manipulated by you– he won’t be manipulated by you now, when he gets rid of many the people who represents obstacles in his way to finding still-existing Vault-Tec members.

Yes, that’s all this is to him. Another step to finding Moldaver, Henry MacLean, then his family if he’s lucky. And you’ll get some rage out of it, so he doesn’t even consider this to be that bad of an evasion of his.

You laugh at something the knight next to you says. Coop catches a bit of it, of him asking how you look under that big jacket– and you mentioning you’d like to see him without that government get-up, too.

He grits his teeth. He’s not fucking in love with you, or anything stupidly juvenile like that– but he definitely felt something before when the two of you were fighting, or when you had conversations during the long, arduous talk here– you bit into a piece of his jerky when he offered it, and he laughed in surprise that you didn’t spit it out after he revealed it was feral ghoul ass jerky.

He also found that his gaze kept being drawn to you, too. You kept up with him, you were capable of hunting and searching on your own, you took lives when the need arose, and you had his back, even if he didn’t ask for it.

You made him subconsciously draw from the past, reminiscing about a time with you and a future he never thought he’d revisit. And now he can’t ignore that, so he needs to let off some steam.

There’s a splatter of blood across your face as the guy in front of you splutters, a bullet hole shot through his forehead. Little pieces of flesh hit the bar counter as he falls, and you gasp.

Coop is kind of quick with it now– he fires off, and because these “politicians” are unprepared, he’s able to kill off more than half.

You get over your shock quickly and fire your own tiny pistol at random, managing a few kills, but the Ghoul takes the last one and looks back at you, with an intrepid glance that you can’t figure out.

“What the hell was that?” You call out, and he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pilfer the bodies, looking for shit to take. “Hey, Ghoul…”

“We came here to kill off those guys.” He answers you, but it’s not really an answer.

“Yeah, but I thought we agreed on discussing this shit as we were doing it. What happened to signalling?” You approach him, and as you get close enough, he turns around and stares unnervingly into your eyes.

“I did signal, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, lying through his teeth.

“Bullshit.”

“No, I did.” He points at you. “It’s not my fault that you were too busy schmoozing and flirting to notice.”

“Wow.” You laugh exasperatedly at his antics, while he tilts his head. “You’re really obtuse, you know?”

“Nah. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re gonna say you’re not jealous–” At that word, the Ghoul snarls, ready to tell you exactly how little he cares for you, and you motion for him to zip it. “But at the very instance of seeing me flirt, mind you, in the most fake way possible, you lost it. You can’t even tell the difference between my genuine flirting and the fakest, schlockiest shit?”

“...” Coop frowns, because you’re right– he did kind of let his mind go wild over nothing in particular.

Even worse, it means he’s made it apparent to you that he still harbours some feelings for your long-ago relationship. And that’s definitely a potential weakness– he does not want you to believe you can just work him around.

“Fuck you.” He spits, and instead of your face flinching in hurt, you stay neutral.

“I know you think you can come close and then shove me off every once in a while, because you’re fucking terrified of what it means that you’re not as hard as you pretended to be, that you still have a bit of human emotion inside you.” You tiptoe up to his face so he can’t avoid you. “I don’t care. That’s your problem.”

You turn to leave, to continue looting the bodies– and Coop’s hand wraps around your wrist.

He hates what you’ve said, because it’s absolutely provoking the worst issue he has– he can never just let go. Two hundred years of this has made him a different creature altogether, spiteful; evil, but Coop knows as well as anyone that his transformation doesn’t negate his original nature, buried deep down.

It was a lie on his part– people are not as evil as he made them out to be, it’s the cycle of this situation that perpetuates that shit. Violence begets violence and all that. He can’t seem to say this to you, though, because he can tell you already probably knew that.

What is this fuckery, that you’re able to generate such a sense of guilt in him?

“Show it to me again. Genuine flirting.” he says instead, and he knows it’s stupid as hell to say something like this. “It’s been hundreds of years, you can’t expect me to fuckin’ remem…”

You grasp his arm back, making him quiet.

He’s half expecting you to punch him, but you see something you like– something that finally satisfies you, and you kiss his cheek, where you cut him much earlier in the day. It’s a soft bruise, mostly healed over in the way ghouls heal– but it’s overwhelmingly, embarrassingly hot there now as you pull away.

“I won’t forget the difference next time, Nuka-Cola.” He tips his hat at you in a mockery of his acting as a dashing cowboy once upon a time.

“Won’t be a next time.” You shrug. “I would hate to have to flirt with someone again just to get you to notice me.”

This severely bothers him, like you haven’t been an annoyance in his mind this whole time. And then he wonders if you’re an idiot, like you have no idea the effect you had on him back then, and even now. Hell, even that overly-chaste kiss has him remembering how he felt at Sebastian’s party when you humoured him the first time.

Do you think the only thing he’s burying is some empathy for the human race?

He can’t just let you be this wrong about this, no fucking way. And it’s with this in mind that the Ghoul feels his reserve melt as he tightly grabs your face and kisses you. Not a soft, movie-star kiss of the past, but one more hungry, his lips swallowing yours, pressed sternly, firmly, like he’s not gonna let you go. He parts his mouth ever so slightly, trying to catch a reaction from you.

You’re caught off guard, and he’s glad. He likes that you don’t know what to do with yourself, that for once you’re floundering rather than him, and you barely remember to kiss back until a couple seconds later when your hands grasp the base of his skull. You’re tracing grooves, calluses, skin that’s been eroded by his ghoulishness. You feel like he tastes ever so acidic– perhaps from the radiation emitting from his body– but some weird part of you loves it, and you part your lips as you kiss him harder, wanting to feel his tongue.

Your lips are just as soft as he remembers– but there’s more excitement now, more of an urgency as you kiss him, so he takes your invitation and swirls his tongue around on yours, disgustingly vulgar and perversely fast, yet lingering to enjoy the sensation, and he kinda loves being a corrupting force, being the ghoul who eats up this sweet human girl, and he tightens his grip– it almost hurts you, how tightly his hands weave around your waist suddenly– and then before you know it, he pulls away.

He wipes his mouth, never taking his eyes off of you.

“So. Did I taste like Nuka-Cola?” You joke, and he laughs in your face.

“Nope. Darlin, you haven’t been the Nuka-Cola girl for hundreds of years. They replaced you not long after you vanished.” He smiles widely at how your face drops. “I can show you some of the new girl’s billboards, if you’d like.”

“That would explain the lack of revenue.” You raise your eyebrows. “Then why do you still call me Nuka-Cola, Cola, etcetera?”

“That’s how I remember you.” It sounds too sweet, too nice that he keeps your nickname on tabs, so he twists his lips in a sneer. “Plus I don’t remember your name.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, finding his insult more funny than anything else, and turn around to take items from the bodies around you. “Okay, Mr. Howard.”

It was the optimal moment for you to joke back, calling him the Ghoul, but in classic you-fashion, you decided to extend an olive branch to him– reminding him that he’ll never just be the Ghoul to you. And even if Coop knows he’ll always remember you by Nuka-Cola, he has a fondness for you that he doesn’t neglect anymore– and he murmurs your name so softly, but just enough that you turn back and look at him, and smile with pleased recognition.

801 notes · View notes

rafeysdoll · 2 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/rafeysdoll/748215216138059776/bsf-rafe-convincing-reader-that-its-normal-to

i’m literally FERAL

could you please do one where rafe somehow convinces reader and he FINALLY gets to be inside of her🫶🫶🫶

definitely rushed in the end so i’m sorry :( kinda struggled with this but i really hope you like it anyway.

"rafey," you mewl, tugging at his polo as he laid on the couch, writing emails and conducting business. "im.. needy, want help." you whisper, biting your lip as you tilt your head to the side. "what was that?" he taunts, shit eating grin displayed on his face as he dismisses his phone, tossing it aside as he gets up anyway.

you eagerly head back into his room, quickly jumping to his bed as you wait for him to lay, ready to hump him as if he was your very own toy to get rid of all your overwhelming desires.

but yet he remains the same, standing still with his tongue nudging at the side of his cheek as he sighs rather dramatically, hand now over his hip. "you know, baby.. i.. uh," he pauses, tactifully letting silence fill the room for you to worry, wanting you get yourself worked up.

"i just dont know how to say it," he continues, turning around so he can only give you a show of the back of him. “what is it?” you question, voice bordering a whimper. “did i do something wrong?”

rafe smiles menacingly, taking a deep breath. it was time for the last stone to be set.

“here, come stand next to me alright?” he requests, turning back around to offer his hand. you quickly listen, right besides him in seconds as he caresses your hand in his own. “baby, i don’t know if i can do this.” he states, brows meeting together in a tight line, leaning in slightly as if he was offended.

you take a shaky breath and gulp, a strong queasy feeling in your stomach. “w-why?” you reply, bottom lip put out. “you.. you don’t like it?” you frown.

“no, no i do. that’s the problem, im a man.. and, well uh.. it’s hard, you know baby? got all these feelings and i can’t even act on them. i mean, it can’t be fair.” he confesses, pretty blue eyes staring at your own.

“oh,” you realize, looking down at your connected hands. “well.. well that can change, can’t it? we can just.. you know.” you whisper, heat and desperation tingling through your body. you didn’t want any of this to end, you were willing to do anything before he had to be ripped away from your hands. “oh.. oh i dunno baby, that’s a big step.” rafe pretends to deny, his cock already twitching and throbbing. he was so close to what he had been working towards for so so long.

“no, no really rafe. i.. i mean now we can both.. enjoy it.” you carry on, nodding. “please? don’t wanna go to anyone else,” you plead, small tears collecting in your lower lash line. “you.. you sure?” he smiles, his own heart thumping profusely in his chest. “i’m sure, ray.”

the rest was a fast blur, your best friend’s thick length bullying himself inside you, crying at every single ministration he gave you, hoping this could never end.

it was the first night rafe finally got through to your tiny hole, writing and squirming under his touch as he mumbled sweet nothings besides your ear — telling you he had been waiting for so long.. that the wait was worth it to finally do this. it was perfect in both of your minds.. rafe finally getting his best friend on his cock and you simply thinking you were only making both you and him happy.

you were always rafe’s girl, even before you ever realized it.

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ponderingmoonlight · 2 days

Note

Hi! I just love your levi fics so much!

For a request I was hoping for something like this -

Levi & reader had grown up together along with Isabel and farlan, when the group gets sent off onto their fateful mission levi thinks reader died alongside with Isabel and farlan. (Angst)

Only to discover years later that reader was alive and actually doing very well for themselves, well known and a strong fighter. Just a very cute reunion fic maybe? Maybe romance 👀 thanks! <3

🦅- Anon

this was an emotional rollercoaster I'm still crying babe but here you go, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3

Levi thinking he lost his sun forever only to find you again after years

Pairing: Levi x fem! reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Synopsis: It's been 1869 days since you were killed by the abnormal titan Isabel and Farlan lost their lives to as well, 1869 days of missing you and regretting that Levi didn't tell you about his true feelings when you were still alive. Little does he know you aren't so easy to get rid of and that you are still out there...

Warnings: death, blood, war scene, depression, full on hurt to comfort, super duper fluff in the end, as usual not proofread because I need to go to bed now hehe

Notes: Finally my first Levi fic after literally MONTHS! I know a lot of you were patiently waiting for more attack on titan content and I'm beyond sorry it took me so long babes. Please let me know how you feel about Attack on Titan content so that I might do more and especially regular fics in the future <3

He can’t take his eyes off you. To be exact, the sunlight suits your facial features so well that it seems impossible to ever let go of your sight.

You have been friends since he met you on that day exactly 6 years ago, when you tried to steal a load of food for a heavy pregnant woman. Since then, he was captivated by your beauty, your brain, your skills. But somehow, this makes the stinging fact that you sit beside him even worse.

“You shouldn’t be here, (y/n)”, he speaks out before he’s able to stop himself.

Immediately, your gaze drifts away from the dreamy scenery to him, eyes widen in surprise.

“What are you talking about, Levi?”

Don’t say his name while looking at him like that, not with that gentle tone in your angelic voice. He told himself over and over that you are nothing but a close friend, maybe considered family like Isabel and Farlan.

He huffs to himself. What a filthy little lie.

“This mission is dangerous. I don’t want you to get-“

“Hurt? Killed? You told me about all those things more than once and I’m happy to repeat myself again for you: I will not leave you, Farlan’s and Isabel’s side. After all, we are friends, right? And friends don’t leave each other behind.”

You gift him with your usual breath-taking smile while his heart skips a beat.

A friend.

He has to remind himself over and over again, force his orbs away from you. You are nothing but friends. And he will never risk to lose you over the potential of something more.

-the evening before the mission-

“I thought I’d find you here”, your teasing voice shouts from behind.

You are probably the last thing he wants to see this evening. Not because he doesn’t enjoy your company, but because he wasn’t able to convince you to stay in safety. Erwin Smith made it very clear that this mission is dangerous, that multiple survey corps member already died behind those walls. And even though you, Farlan and Isabel showed your skills countless times before, he can’t stop his train of thought. You, getting grabbed by a titan. You, getting ripped apart, your blood scattering onto the ground. He won’t have the chance to stay by your side during all times. One wrong movement, one thoughtless decision and you’d be gone.

“I don’t even have to ask in order to know what you’re thinking about right now, Levi.”

The second your hand brushes over his shoulder, he is too lost in the feeling of your bare hand against his shirt to worry any further.

“You don’t have to worry about Farlan, Isabel and me. After all, you’re the one who taught us everything we know.”

“Tsk. You were already doing fine when I met you.”

“But you were the one who showed me there is still hope, something worth fighting for. If it wasn’t for you, I would have died down there without ever seeing the sun once in my life”, you reply.

All of the sudden you place your hand on top of his and squeeze in gently. That look on your face, is it…Affection? He shakes his head firmly, doesn’t allow himself to get lost in that oh so sweet idea. A woman like you will never fall for a cold-hearted man like him, not when the whole squad fell head over heels for you the second they got to know you better. You are a true sweetheart, everyone’s favorite, a ray of sunshine. He, on the other hand, is none of that.

“Stop praising me or else I’ll puke and make a mess onto the freshly cleaned floor.”

No, he doesn’t deserve your kind word, doesn’t even deserve that spark in your eyes. You are better off without him, even as a friend.

“You’ll gonna clean it up anyway”, you bite back with a wide grin.

“Actually, there is something else I want to talk with you about, Levi.”

The sudden change in your voice paired with the warmth of your hand leaving his lets his gaze wander to yours again – only to catch you already staring.

“What is it?”, he questions instantly.

“If you have to decide between Isabel, Farlan and me…Just promise that you’ll safe them before even thinking about my ass. Please look after them and don’t worry about me.”

His eyes widen just the tiniest bit, reveal his surprise and…his resist. Not thinking about you, leaving you behind? The urge to shake you becomes almost unbearable when he grabs your arms passionately, gaze locking with yours.

“There is no way in hell I will ever leave you behind, dumbass. Don’t you dare to die on me, got it?”

“Promise”, you urge.

“Promise you’ll look out for them first.”

“(y/n)…”

He has to close his eyes in order to stop staring at your perfect lips. This might be the last time he ever sees you alive so unbothered by his side, the last time he witnesses the way the dim moonlight lights up your hair.

This…might be your last night alive.

“Please, I can’t live with the thought of being without them. They are still so young.”

“What about you, though? What if I don’t want to live a life without you? What if I die myself?”

You smile at him sadly, your hand caressing his cheek oh so gently.

“We all know you won’t die out there, Levi. It’s us who might not be here with you tomorrow. After all, that’s why you wanted to stop us from coming with you, right?”

He swallows hard. Every single one of you is a skilled fighter. Hell, you even survived the underground with countless enemies chasing after you. But this? This is something completely different. For the first time since getting to know all of you, Levi isn’t so sure about your abilities anymore.

“I promise”, he replies with low voice.

“Thank you”, you breathe out.

“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we? We have a big fight ahead of us.”

Oh, there is no doubt in the fact that Levi won’t close his eyes this whole cursed night, pondering about a way to safe all of you. But even though you are very aware of that, you turn on your heel and smile at him one last time.

The brightest smile of them all, making your face gleam in nothing but affection.

“Oh, and Levi?”

“What is it, dumbass?”

“When I was talking about the sun earlier…That sun was you.”

And then you’re gone in the dark, leaving him with his heart almost beating out of his chest and feelings clustered all over the place.

Him, your sun?

-the battle-

Your eyes widen in sheer horror, the violent scream escaping your lips not reaching your ringing ears. Those powerful orbs…There is no doubt in the fact that this is her, that this is Isabel. Tears stream down your face uncontrollably, mix with the bitter coat of rain that sticks to your face uncomfortably.

Your friend is dead. And you were not able to protect her.

“You.”

The monster standing in front of you doesn’t look like the other titans you’ve seen before. Eyes red like crimson, lips curved into an evil grin. This thing is absolutely aware of the agony it causes you and enjoys every tear you cry.

You grab your blades even tighter, narrow eyes fixating its nape.

“I will make you suffer”, you press out through gritted teeth.

“I will make you regret that you even touched her!”

You dash forward only to get greeted by thin air. Fuck, this thing is so fast you didn’t even realize it was gone until your blade crashed into the muddy ground. Why do your hands suddenly start shaking, your knees felling weak? It’s just you and that thing. The other corps members around you? Scuttered onto the floor in bloody pieces.

Levi?

You escape its clutches by a hair’s breadth, the monster’s stinging smell of death and rotten flesh making your guts turn. You need to focus, need to control your fear and anger. Otherwise, you’ll die just like all the others did.

Levi…Is he dead as well? There is no one around, no one showed a single reaction to your multiple cries for help, your signs. Maybe you’re the only one who’s left. Which means that Farlan and Levi are gone.

Levi, gone? Fuck, you should have told him about your true feelings yesterday, you should have pressed your lips against his like you always dreamed about. This was the last opportunity to tell him how much you love him before both of you die.

And now it will be forever too late.

Just when you’re about to dash forward, the arm of the titan yanks towards you with breath-taking speed. Your eyes widen in sheer horror as all you can do is stare in sheer disbelief.

Is this how you will die? Through the hand of an abnormal titan, eating you alive?

You always dreamed of a life on the surface with Levi by your side. Maybe a small cottage on the edge of a busy city close to a river. Having a little farm with a few animals here and there, Levi working for a local business while you stay home and care for your home. For a brief moment, you allow your eyes to rest, to get lost in the life you will never have.

If only you had told him sooner. Maybe then it would have been different. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel your bones crack against the sheer force of the titan’s flat palm, throwing you into the air like a ball.

As soon as your body hits the ground, everything goes black.

-5 years later-

He opens his eyes against the way too harsh sunlight. Another night he hasn’t slept more than 2 hours. Day 1869 of missing you.

“Good morning, Captain Levi!”

He doesn’t even care to reply, feet carrying him down the hallway monotone. His days have always been the same since the day he lost Isabel, Farlan and you: Getting haunted in his sleep, waking up alone, surviving another day in this living hell. It’s almost ironic, how he already hated the world when you were in it. Little did he know how much worse it would get when you’re gone.

There is no day since back then that doesn’t revolve around you. You, with your hair down in the sun. You, beating up some tuff guys and showing them their place. You, that fucking cursed night before you had to leave.

Until this day, he hates himself for not being there. By the time he arrived, everyone was dead, brutally murdered by an abnormal titan. And even after searching for your corpse for hours in the pouring rain, he didn’t even manage to find a single limb left of you. This should be a good sign. After all, it might mean that you somehow managed to survive.

“The chances of (y/n) surviving and managing to flee on her own are 1 against 500.000”, Erwin said back then.

Maybe it would have actually felt better, knowing that you’re dead. Maybe this would spare him from getting haunted by your giggling and fucking gorgeous face each and every night.

But…If getting haunted by your presence is all he has left, he shouldn’t complain about it.

“We are heading out today. It is said that there are countless abnormal titans roaming around a city nearby”, Erwin explains briefly.

“How the fuck did these things even manage to get in there?”, Levi grumbles in response while taking a sip of his way too hot tea.

“That’s not what I care about. What I’m more interested in is the fact that a group of villagers managed to trap one of them.”

Levi can’t help but put his cup of tea down while Hange bursts out in sheer excitement next to him. A group of villagers, trapping an abnormal titan?

“Former corps members?”, he questions.

“Apparently not. Maybe they are interested in a new job”, Erwin replies, getting up from his seat and straightening his uniform.

“We are leaving right now.”

“Right now? Over some brats who were lucky to not get eaten by that titan?”

“You can’t deny that these ‘brats’ have to be skilled in order to trap an abnormal titan, Levi. Also, I heard the head of them is a woman.”

Levi huffs to himself. Skilled, huh? Lucky is definitely the better fit.

You sink your blade straight into the eye of the disgusting creature lying in front of you, watch in sheer satisfaction how it squeals underneath.

“Hope you enjoy that as much as I do”, you mumble, twisting and turning your sword painfully slow.

“(y/n), d-don’t you think that’s enough? What if it escapes?”, the man next to you cries out, holding safe distance between himself and the abnormal.

“So what? Listen, you little shit. If you even try to escape, I will kill you without even blinking, got it?”

You rip your blade out. In, out, in, out until everything around you is covered in crimson.

Just like back then.

You stumble back when a wave of nausea hits you. The sight of Isabel’s lifeless head, her limbs scattered across the muddy floor. Back then, you weren’t able to save her, weren’t even able to save yourself. If it wasn’t for your crew, you’d be dead by now. Just like her…

“Hey.”

“How about you take a break for a sec? You’re drifting off again.”

Her gently voice pulls you out of your nightmare just like her tender touch. Petra has been the greatest support since that fateful day. In fact, the only reason you are still alive is her. When she found you, you were already on the brink of death. Only due to her passionate and long-term care, you learned how to walk again, learned how to fight again.

“Sorry”, you mumble, allowing yourself to rest for a moment against her strong shoulder.

“(y/n), I’m sorry to interrupt you like this but…We spotted members of the survey corps?”

“The survey corps?”, you repeat in sheer disbelief.

Rage starts flooding your veins in an instant, forcing you to pick up your blade again. If there’s one thing you will never forgive the survey corps for, it’s the fact that they left you standing in the rain. The countless people who died with the wings of faith embroidered onto their jackets, eaten alive by a titan while your desperate cries for help remained unanswered until this day. For Erwin Smith, you were nothing but canon fodder, nothing but a bait. And you will forever hate him over the fact that he is partly responsible for the death of Isabel, Farlan and Levi.

You storm in the direction your scout sighted them, jumping from tree to tree in order to catch them by surprise. You will definitely not tolerate survey corps members around your area, especially when you just caught an abnormal titan to study and torture.

“There they are.”

Their disgusting green cloaks fill you with thick anger, almost force you onto the ground to knock every single one of them out. But you know all too well this isn’t the way to go. No, you will wait here until the right time comes to throw yourself at their captain.

There are five of them, walking towards the direction of your village. Just wait a few more seconds until the one who walks ahead is underneath you, one second and you…

You lunge yourself at the person with full speed, forcing them to the ground. Him, to be exact. That firm chest exposes all too urgently that you just attacked a man.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, brat?”, he barks at you, rough hands grabbing your wrists so tightly that your bones threaten to shatter.

You aren’t able to defend yourself, though.

That voice, the way he called you brat.

Is it really possible that…

You allow your eyes to look up at him and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

“Levi.”

You breathe his name out like a prayer, as if your dream might become reality. These grey and unbothered eyes look just like you remember his, the dark hair framing his face oh so perfectly.

“Levi, is that you?”

He can’t comprehend his feelings. Just a second ago, he was under attack of a stranger. But your eyes aren’t foreign. They hold the spark he dreams of each and every night, the memory he cares about so deeply. Is it really possible, that…

“(y/n).”

Everyone was so sure that you died on the battlefield, that the titan must have eaten you alive without leaving any remains. But maybe there was nothing to remain. Maybe you actually did manage to survive. Is it possible? Is this really you?

“I thought you died.”

Your voice is nothing but a fade away whisper, tears streaming down your usual so composed face like rivers when your memories begin to crash down on you like a house of cards. All those years, you were convinced Levi lost his life on this battlefield as well, that you were the only one remaining. But now you’re sitting on top of him, taking in his clean scent while he glares at you the way he used to.

“Everyone tried to convince me that that fucking abnormal ate you back then, that there is no chance you survived. Now look at you, dumbass”, he breathes out, very own eyes now coated in a thin layer of glimmering tears.

There is no time to waste. With a swift motion, you lunge yourself at him again, wrap your arms around his strong torso as if your life depends on it while resting your head against his chest and crying your heart out.

Words will always fail to express how much you missed him, that you thought about him each and every night since the day he was taken away from you so roughly. But now, you will never let him go again. Now you won’t waste another opportunity to tell him how you really feel.

“I love you, Levi. I loved you since our days in the underground city, I loved you through all these horrible years of grief. I love you. I love you”, you finally blurt out.

“I love you too, (y/n). I always did.”

Gently, he rests his hand against your nape while lifting your chin up with the other.

The second your lips meet, your world feels complete for the first time. All the pain, the grief, the things you had to endure. The countless nights of imagining him right by your side, the thought of never seeing him again. And now he’s here, right in your arms while kissing you so passionately that you fail to breathe.

“I love you”, he repeats so softly that your heart melts away like butter.

“I love you…”

“I finally found my sun again”, you smile against his lips.

You snuggle yourself onto him even tighter, your grip around his torso firm. Oh, you will definitely never let this man go again. Not after it took both of you so many years to meet again, not when he’s all you ever wanted.

Levi Ackerman, the love of your life.

“Who’s that woman throwing herself at you from a tree and then getting a smooch from you?”

“Shut up, shitty four-eyes”, Levi barks at the person standing behind him.

Tags:

@hellkaiserinphoenix @chilichopsticks @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain (hope you noticed I actually named reader's bestie after you babe) @polarbvnny @kentocalls @kayleegomez

First divider by wonderful @cafekitsune - check out the banner I used here!

Second one as usual from the best @saradika-graphics - I worship the ground you walk on honey

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hotchnisslvr · 2 days

Text

how do we carry on?

pairing: hotch x bau!reader

rating: m

word count: 4.8k

genre: angst, hurt no comfort

summary: emily was your confidant, your best friend. when she dies at the hands of ian doyle, you find comfort in your boyfriend, aaron. when you find out that she’s alive and that hotch had known all along, your world falls out from under you. can you and hotch come back from the decision he made for the good of the team?

*if this gains enough traction i might follow up with a pt.2 to give it a happy ending*

The criss-crossed lines of the tile floor blur together as you stare blankly between your feet. The tops of your thighs have gone numb from digging your elbows into them, using your cradled hands as a pillow for your forehead. You couldn’t go home, not until you knew.

Rossi had offered to go on a walk and get a coffee, but shitty lukewarm hospital coffee was the last thing you needed. You hadn’t meant to write him off, you just couldn’t justify doing anything to distract from the fact that she was on that operating table, that Emily’s life was literally hanging in the balance.

The rest of the team was no better off than you are right now. Penelope’s knitting needles clack relentlessly, the scarf inside of her purse growing as her hands keep busy so her mind doesn’t focus on how hard she’s trying not to cry. The last time you’d poked your head up, Derek hadn’t moved from the waiting room windowsill where he’d been standing still as a statue staring out at the cityscape. If Spencer didn’t stop shaking his leg, you feared he would wear a hole straight through the tile. JJ exits the waiting room as often as she returns, her liaising days quickly coming back, making her their only link to the operating room. Hotch’s behavior is no different. His cell rings every ten to fifteen minutes, no doubt the Bureau wanting to know how the hell this could happen. It’s the only sign that time is actually passing and you’re forced to accept that you’re not stuck in some fucked up purgatory-esque hellscape where time stands still, torturing you as your dear friend’s life teeters between worlds.

What you wanted, what you needed was for him to hold you; to place a kiss against your temple and tell you that everything would be alright. It had to be alright.

He couldn’t show favor to you though, not now. The team didn’t know about your relationship with him, though you believe a few have their suspicions. You’re all too observant for your own good. Not much goes unnoticed by anyone. So when JJ walks back into the waiting room, everyone shifts toward her to try and get a glimpse into her facial expression and body language for any sign of an update regarding Emily’s condition.

Instantly, you know something is wrong. JJ’s eyes flit from one person to the next, not lingering very long on anyone. Spencer is the first to stand and you follow suit. You close in, forming a small half circle. Behind JJ, Hotch stands in the doorway, brow straight as he folds his arms across his chest.

“JJ?” Her name is an anxious plea on Penelope’s lips.

JJ’s eyes drop to the floor as she presses her lips together. She takes a deep breath and lifts her eyes, yours the ones they land on as she speaks. “She never made it off the table.”

A choked sob echoes from Garcia as she falls into Derek’s arms, his features fixed as he stares ahead though his knuckles flush white as he holds tightly onto Penelope. Rossi pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed as he mutters something to himself; a prayer, maybe. Spencer envelopes JJ in a desperate embrace, as if clinging to her will somehow make her words any less true. Afterall, how can they be? Emily can’t go down, not like this; not after all she’s survived.

Someone says your name. Your brow dips, but you don’t respond. You need to see Emily. Your feet move of their own accord, guiding you through the waiting room. Someone grabs your arm and you tug away from their grasp, set on pushing onward and finding the OR.

Someone repeats your name, and you can’t help but latch on to the deep tenor that belongs to Hotch. You halt in your tracks and close your eyes, tears leaking over your eyelids and down your cheeks.

“I need to talk to Emily,” you say, your voice small.

The way Hotch says your name is laced with pity and you hate the way it sounds on his tongue. He pulls gently on your arm in an attempt to reel you into him, but you resist. You bite your lip to still its trembling. Yanking your arm free, you press on into the hallway and stumble toward the double doors that read in bold letters: Authorized Personnel Only. Fuck that. You’ve got a badge, that’s authority enough. Before you can push through, firm hands twist around your arms.

You push back, but their grip tightens. “Stop,” Hotch urges authoritatively. You turn into him and pound your fist against his chest, a sob cracking free from your mouth. “She’s not gone,” you cry. “She’s not gone. She’s not—” Your legs tremble with the wave of grief that crashes over you and you can’t hold your weight as it does so. Falling to your knees, Hotch reacts. His arms fold around your waist, catching you as you collapse into the wide plane of his chest. Your ribs ache as your lungs inflate with each rapid, sobbing breath. Your vision turns fuzzy at the edges as you try and fail to slow your breathing. It feels like you’re dying as the waves of grief assail you over and over again, battering you, body and mind, in an unrelenting tumultuous current of sorrow and pain as the wicked reality sets in. Emily is dead. You barely feel Hotch’s hand in your hair cradling you against him. As he murmurs apologies and sympathies in your ear, you don’t see the weighted look he exchanges with JJ.

•

The funeral comes and goes. The day is too beautiful for Emily not to be there to see it. You sit on the porch at Hotch’s house, breathing in and out as you watch the daffodils dance in the afternoon breeze. You smooth the fabric of your dress down over your knees, the satin wrinkled from the way you clenched it during the service.

Your phone buzzes in your purse. The number of messages and phone calls you’d ignored continues to rise, but you can’t bring yourself to express any gratitude for their condolences. You can’t bring yourself to feel anything except the crushing weight of grief.

You picture Emily sitting beside you on the wooden porch swing. Last Summer, you’d sat here with her as the team gathered for a Fourth of July Barbecue. Jack had made invitations and delivered them to the team at the office. He’d been so excited and so were you. It was around then that you and Hotch had begun to toe the line between colleagues and something more; a morning coffee dropped off at your desk here, an extra visit to his office there. You’d sat here with Emily watching as Rossi backseat barbecued Hotch on the grill. She’d caught you smiling at him alongside the fondness in your gaze. She’d clocked you from a mile away.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad.” Her laugh had tinkled from lips, ringing like a morning bell.

“What are you talking about?” you’d asked, trying and failing to school your features into a mask of indifference.

“I’ll tell ya, it’s a big swing, but if you hit it, that’s a home run for sure.”

You’d nearly choked on your lemonade, coughing and gasping; drawing the attention of the others.

“Wrong pipe!” Emily had called while pointing at you and clapping a hand against your back. “She’s good!” In a low voice she’d added, “Though I’m sure with him, it’d be just the right pipe.”

You’d elbowed her in the ribs and bust out laughing together. For the longest time after that, she’d been the only person that you’d confided in about your burgeoning feelings and relationship with Aaron. Through that, she’d quickly become your closest friend on the team.

A couple of kids shout at one another, laughing, as they ride past the house on their bicycles; shattering the memory. You dip into your purse and withdraw your phone, pressing a button and powering it down. The screen door creaks on its hinges and Hotch steps down onto the porch, the planks shifting beneath his weight. He sits beside you and offers you a mug. The scent of coffee reaches your nose and you accept it, thanking him quietly. Aaron had taken his suit jacket off and loosened his tie. He stretches an arm around your shoulder and draws closer to you. He kisses the side of your face and stares out at the yard.

“It was a beautiful service,” he offers.

“Aaron, don’t.” You close your eyes and take a breath. You hold the coffee with both hands, rubbing your thumbs up and down the warm ceramic. “Please don’t make small talk with me about this like it’s all so fucking normal.”

He sighs and apologizes. “I just wish I could make all of your hurt go away.”

A shudder runs through you and you nestle in closer to him, taking a sip of your coffee as you do so. “I don’t think it’ll ever go away.”

•

Her brown eyes stare back at you, though the photo paper could never capture the light that flared within them when she was alive. Of all the faces you could have seen up on this wall, you’d never anticipated hers being one of them.

Every day you stop by her portrait on the wall of fallen heroes. People talk about her less and less around the office. The team doesn’t stop, though your conversations are stilted and often end in awkward silences; no one really knowing how to carry on once the conversation slows to a natural end. You speak often with Spencer about the ways in which you’ve been grieving, the sleepless nights and early mornings. Derek is reserved. He’s angry above anything else. He feels betrayed by Emily and a part of you understands that. She’d not told any of you after all. You’d be remiss if you’d not also spent some of your time grieving in anger. Of all the times you’d stayed late after work, gotten together to hang out on weekends, or gone out for drinks, she had never indicated anything was wrong. You had told her everything, confided every one of your fears and hopes into her and you’d thought that the street had been going both ways. God, you’d never been so wrong.

“Conference room in fifteen,” Aaron says as he walks past you, hand grazing your back as he does so.

You smile tightly and nod, glancing once more at Emily’s photo before making your way to your desk in the bullpen, ignoring the fact hers still sits empty and unoccupied beside yours. How has it been three months already?

•

“Emily!”

Your eyes dart around the room frantically searching as your heart thunders in your ears. You feel the organ pounding against your ribcage, threatening to break free of it. It only takes a second for you to realize it had been a dream.

Aaron rolls over and sits up, threading an arm around your back and rubbing your hip with his fingers. “Another nightmare?” he asks, words tinged with sleepiness.

You nod, yawning as you rub your eyes. The dreams are further apart, but at least every other week her face haunts your subconscious. You can’t help but wonder if it’s some sort of self-punishment as life goes on and the days get easier.

In reality, you don’t know if it’s easier or if you’ve just forced yourself to become numb to it all, compartmentalizing the pain of losing your best friend because if you didn’t you don’t think you’d be able to leave the house and do what you do day after day.

“Are the appointments with the therapist helping?” he asks.

Another question you don’t know the answer to. On some level, yes. Talking to someone who knows nothing about you or her or anyone else on the team is good. You don’t have to walk on eggshells, worried you're going to dig open a wound the others are equally fighting to heal by talking about her or how much you miss her or wish she was here. On another level, you don’t open up fully to the doctor. There are some layers of this injury you don’t want to see heal and scar over. If you do that, it’s like you’re telling Emily that you’re over her death, as if it’s something as easy as that, something you just get over. No, some things need to stay fresh, to serve as a reminder that Ian Doyle is still out there. The man who took your best friend away from you and your BAU family is breathing and she’s not. You clench your fists, the sheets balling up in your hands as your resentment burns deep inside you. Yes, that’s it, the idea of him walking around thinking he’s gotten away with this is enough to stoke the flames simmering deep inside you.

You take a deep breath, mentally imagining the flames subsiding, and they do. They dial down, but they don’t disappear. You glance down at Aaron, who snores softly beside you. His fingers still curl around your hip and a faint smile graces your lips. He tries, you know he does, but this is exhausting for everyone. He bears the brunt of it at the office. He fought to be the one to meet with the team and conduct the grief interviews, not wanting a stranger to come in and sift through your friends’ and colleagues’ pain over what happened. God knows how much bureaucratic red tape he had gotten tangled in right after the fact, the higher ups demanding how such a blunder could occur right under their noses. Aaron had put out the fires though, as he always did. Reaching around his back, you withdraw his hand from your hip and tuck it by his side, not before pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

You glance at the clock before lying back down. 4:15AM blinks back at you on the digital clock face. In forty five minutes the alarm will go off and it’ll be another day at the office. Settling down into the pillows, you press your back into Aaron’s body, yours molding against the planes of his as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

His arms slinks around your waist and pulls you in as if you can get any closer than you already are. He tucks his chin over your shoulder and his lips brush against your jawline.

“I love you,” he whispers and you relax into the safety of his embrace.

“I love you, too, Aaron.”

•

Nights are hard when Aaron is gone. Pakistan is nine hours ahead and all Hotch has to communicate with anyone is a satellite phone, the number for which you don’t have access to. Whenever Hotch calls, the caller ID flashes the word ‘Unknown’ across your screen. There have been several times you’ve missed him due to being asleep or at work. Each call missed feels like being sucker punched. Every time you talk, a part of you worries it’ll be the last time. You didn’t use to have this fear, not until Emily. Despite staring death in the face on a week by week basis, most of the time playing Russian Roulette with the Grim Reaper himself in each unsub you cross paths with, somehow you never thought he’d actually take someone you love from you; that he’d take down one of the team. You never thought there’d be a last conversation with Emily, and now she’s dead.

Dead. The word is a heavy stone, sinking from the cusps of your mind to the pit of your stomach. It sits there, a persistent ache idling deep inside of you. It never relents and it never allows you to forget.

There are nights you dream that Aaron is dead too, that somewhere far away and beyond your control, he’s dying on the ground, bleeding out, and no one knows. You don’t even know what he’s working on and he can’t say; despite your relationship there are still levels in which Hotch’s clearance supersedes your own and the need-to-know red tape keeps you out. Afraid to close your eyes and dream of his unseeing, you stare at the blades of the ceiling fan whirling lazily overhead of the bed you usually share with him.

“I miss you,” you whisper to no one; and you don’t know who you’re talking to anymore.

•

“He’s back?” your heart flutters in your chest, equal parts excited and anxious at the prospect of Aaron’s sudden return. You push off your desk and swivel in your chair to stand, rushing down the hall and leaving Reid behind as you make your way hastily to the conference room.

The door is cracked and a gleeful sound eeks past your lips as his tall frame comes into view. You slip in before anyone else arrives and throw your arms around you. Inhaling deeply, his familiar teakwood scent envelopes you just as his arms do. You move to pull away, but his arms tighten around you.

“A second more,” he whispers, and there’s an edge to his voice.

You write it off to jet lag and sink into his embrace, though you notice how slight he feels against you. Finally, you pull back and cup his face in your hands. The scruff of his beard is prickly and you laugh as you take in his rugged appearance. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with this much facial hair.” You swipe your thumbs over the hair on his lip and he tilts his head, kissing the inside of your hand. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply before lifting them to meet yours. It's then you realize how tired he looks. The bags under his eyes are puffy and purple, almost as if they’re bruised. His forehead is creased, brow furrowed; definitely not how you pictured him upon reuniting.

“Aaron is everything ok—”

“I need you to know I would never hurt you,” he says quickly, interrupting you.

You purse your lips, brow pinching at the sudden admission. As your lips part to speak he directs a pointed look at you, the depths of his brown eyes wavering. “I love you,” his voice cracks, “so much.” He swallows, his throat bobbing as he does so. “Please remember that.”

There’s a hollow feeling in your gut, a chasm opening wide where every anxious and painful thought that you’ve tried to keep buried since he’s been gone begins to claw their way out as a thousand different outcomes play out in front of you. “Aaron, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t answer your question as the rest of the team trickles into the room, sitting at the round table or standing as suspense fills the space. It’s tangible. Everyone’s posture is rigid and tense in anticipation of whatever it is he has to say.

“Seven months ago I made a decision that impacted everyone on this team,” he begins, eyes firm.

Spencer shifts uncomfortably beside you. Rossi leans forward, fingers steepled under his chin.

“As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood,” Hotch continues and your ears prick at the sound of her name. Why would he bring her up? No less, her condition the day you all lost her. You all know this.

“…the doctor’s were able to stabilize her.”

Your lips part but no sound comes out as you raise your eyes to meet his. They meet yours for the briefest of seconds before flitting on to the others.The next words to leave his mouth sound far away, interrupted by the blood now pounding in your eardrums. “She stayed there until she was well enough to travel…given identities…”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel as though you may choke on it. Air doesn’t seem to be able to bypass it and you have to remind yourself that you can breathe even though it feels like all the oxygen has vacated your lungs.

Penelope is the first to speak. “She’s alive?”

Spencer’s brow quirks as he tries to rationalize what’s being said to him. “We buried her.”

You did. You helped carry the casket. You felt the weight of her dead body and watched it sink into the earth. If that wasn’t her, what the fuck or who the fuck did you actually put in the ground?”

“As I said I take full responsibility for this decision,” Hotch continues, eyes downcast. “If anyone has any issues they should be directed towards me.”

The blood pounding in your ears is deafening. When Hotch looks up, you search his eyes and can’t help wondering if you know him at all. All of the nights you literally made yourself sick from crying and he held your hair back as you dry heaved over the toilet and your body spasmed from the grief of losing your best friend, he’d known that she was alive. For a moment, you think you may be sick right there at the round table at the thought of it all. Derek is speaking, his voice tight with anger but you don’t hear him. Heads turn and the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as a haunting feeling creeps up the back of your spine.

Turning around in your chair, everyone else stands but not you. If you do, you know your knees will buckle and fall out from under you. Spencer and Penelope are on their feet, moving briskly to greet the ghost of Emily.

Except she’s not a ghost. Her skin is not the cold blue-gray pallor of death, but pink and bright, the blood beneath her flesh very much pumping through a heart that’s beating. Her dark brown hair is sleek and shining, her bangs grown out and styled; her part now to the right. You watch her arms fold around Spencer and the way he squeezes her in turn. Penelope follows suit, tears streaming down her cheeks as she smiles widely. Derek stares on, features fixed in a cross between anger and shock. Emily approaches him with apprehension. An apology leaves her lips as she draws him in for a hug and his arms tentatively wrap around her. When she turns to you, your muscles tense. Those deep brown irises flicker back and forth across your face, searching for a reaction. You don’t give her one. Instead, you push past her, avoiding any and all physical contact with her, and dip out of the conference room.

You hear Garcia call your name and Derek shouts about having a case. You don’t care. You bypass your desk, not even bothering to get your purse. Your keys are hanging on a carabiner on your belt loop. Ignoring the elevator, you shove your way through the entrance to the stairs and move down them so quickly you’re surprised you don’t lose your footing and tumble down them. Down and around you go, your footsteps echoing as your heart slams against your ribcage. You slap your badge against the keypad that lets you exit the building, ignoring the greeting from the security guard at the front. As you push through the front doors of the office building, you barely make it to the bushes before you fall to your knees and retch.

•

A car door slams followed by the double beep which locks them. You close your eyes and inhale deeply as you prepare to face him, hands clenching around the sweater you were packing. A tear slips free from your eye as you breathe out and look toward the ceiling, as if the answers to why all of this had to happen are written up there. This is not how your reunion is supposed to be. You’d pictured his homecoming for weeks; thought about the outfit you’d wear to dinner and the lingerie you’d bought to wear just for him when you both got home, opened a bottle of wine, and made up for all of the time lost while he was away. That is how tonight is supposed to go.

Now you’re leaving, and you don’t know if you’ll be coming back.

The lock on the front door jiggles before the gears click into place. It squeaks on its hinges as it swings open. Five beeps follow and you can picture his fingers pressing against each button on the alarm system. His keys clatter as he drops them on the table. As his footsteps edge closer to your bedroom, you count each one. The sound that usually means safety and security, now sends a shiver of anxiety throughout your body.

He appears in the doorway, eyes rife with exhaustion and the bags beneath them puffy and swollen. His cheeks are flushed and his nose is pink, as if he’d been crying. Maybe he had been, god knows you had. His eyes flit between you and the bag you’re packing. His lips part and a small sound of desperation slips past them.

“Baby, please—”

You hold up a hand, curling your fingers into a fist. Your lip curls as you speak. “Don’t,” you breathe. You swallow the lump that quickly forms in your throat as you drop your hand, zipping the bag shut.

The inner corners of his brow draw upward and you can hardly stand to look into his pleading gaze.

“You have to understand—”

“Understand, what? Aaron?” You ask sharply, struggling to hold back the thick hot tears pricking the backs of your eyes.

He places a hand on his hip, fingers tucking back the fold of his unbuttoned shirt as his thumb hooks into his belt; a gesture you’re all too familiar with as he does the same thing with all of his suits. His other hand rises to pinch the bridge of his nose. He pauses, inhaling as he tries to find the words. After a moment, he scrubs a hand over his face and turns his gaze to yours.

“I wanted to tell you so badly,” he says. When he looks at you there are tears in his eyes. “I hated myself, watching the agony this decision put you and the team through. I wanted to tell you and take away your hurt, but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have been fair to the team. Just because you’re my girlfriend, I can’t—” He turns his hand and slams his hand against the doorframe causing you to flinch. “Dammit!”

Your voice is soft, but sure when you speak. “You can’t bend the rules.”

It’s what you’ve always worried about, both of you. You always knew the job could come first, especially with him being the Unit Chief. You always understood that that meant no preferential treatment and that is something you never would’ve asked him to do. You just never anticipated it happening like this, a complete and total life altering mind fuck.

Aaron drops his hand and it slaps against his thigh in defeat as it falls to his side. “What was I supposed to do?”

You cross your arms over your chest, fingers curling over your biceps to try and still your shaking hair. You hang your head and a curtain of hair falls across your face, “I don’t know, Aaron.”

He kicks off the doorway, moving towards you with his hands outstretched. It happens without thinking, the way you flinch away. Pain flashes in his eyes and you feel as though you’ve been punched in the stomach the way it’s suddenly hard to breathe.

His hip is close to yours, his body angled away from you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulder as he looks down. “Don’t do this,” he whispers.

Your lip quivers, chin wobbling in response to the tears you’re trying so desperately to hold back. “I have vacation I’d been saving.” You pick up your bag and throw it over your shoulder, not daring to look up at him because you know if you do you’ll shatter into a thousand shards of glass at his feet.

As you move toward the door, you pause. For a split second, you entertain the thought of dropping your bag, running across the room he’d chased you around so many times before, and throwing yourself around him. You consider all the things you want to say and scream and cry about; all of your anger, sadness, betrayal, grief, and love. You crave him so terribly in that moment because his have always been the arms you’ve run to when things become too much to bear.

Instead, your chin dips toward your shoulder as you speak, but you don’t raise your eyes to meet his. If you do, you don’t think you’ll be able to leave. “My gun and badge are in the safe.”

As you make your way down the hallway, you have to bite your knuckles to stifle a sob just as you hear one leave his lips from the bedroom.

You don’t turn back.

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rylie-m · 2 days

Text

redemption

Summary: In which Y/N Thomas is left to raise her and Rafe Cameron’s baby after he refuses to take responsibility for it. He shows up after two years, ready to redeem himself, but is it too late?

Chapter 1:

5 years ago - September 2nd

“Are you by any chance from the Outer Banks?” you ask the boy sitting next to you in your freshman year English class. “I am, why?” He states, with a very charming smile. “You look familiar. Do you know Topper Thornton?” He nods and chuckles slightly, “I do.” “Topper’s my cousin,” you smile softly at the thought of the younger boy who you loved like a little brother. “Yeah?” He asks, “Where are you from?” You smile and flip to a page in your notebook, “Charleston, but I’ve visited the Outer Banks a lot to see Topper and the rest of my family.”

5 years ago - September 5th

The party you’re at is already packed, the smell of weed and alcohol is in the air, and the noise is enough to give you a headache already. As you and your friend, Ella, start to walk up the stairs to the frat house you hear, “Hey! Y/N, right?”

It’s Rafe.

Unfortunately (for you) charming, extremely put together, and just bad enough to get you in trouble. That’s how Ella described him when you asked about him. And that’s the impression you got from his instagram.

“Yeah, you’re Rafe, right?” He smirks and nods while walking over to you, abandoning his friends. Ella sighs behind you and shakes her head subtly. “Hi Ella,” Rafe smiles, obnoxiously. “Hey, Cameron.” Ella gives Rafe an unimpressed look, “Y/N and I are busy. Good to see you.” She grabs your arm and drags you into the frat house, looking for her boyfriend.

4 years ago - October 1st

Ella finally picks up the phone and you immediately squeal into it. “Rafe asked me out! Finally!” You giggle and you hear Ella chuckle softly on the other side of the phone, “Took him long enough, I’m happy for you. Tell me all about it.” You both can hear each other’s smiles on the other side of the phone.

3 years ago - August 22nd

You and Rafe are laying in his bed, after getting back from a week-long visit to the Outer Banks, where you had met his family, who undoubtedly loved you, for the first time. Even his father, who clearly faked his support and affection for his son the whole week, this was easy to tell only because Rafe had told you all about him and his father while driving there, as a warning for you, just in case.

“I love you,” He says, smiling into your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair. “Don’t see a future without you in it.” He mumbles and you smile, probably the widest you’ve ever smiled. “I love you, can’t wait to be with you forever and deal with the wonderful in-laws.” You laugh, teasingly and he chuckles, half out of embarrassment and half out of humor. Rafe had watched you immediately get along with his whole family and after telling you about his struggles with his family, he thought that you would think he was the problem, but you understood his point of view and believed him wholeheartedly.

3 years ago - August 23rd

“Rafe, I’m pregnant. That’s why I’ve been sick. Went to the doctor’s today.” You stated, shaking from nerves and speaking in short sentences to make sure that he got point. Rafe stares at you, unmoving. His eyes are colder and emptier than you’ve ever seen them. It’s the way his father looks at him. “I don’t- I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, Rafe.” You stutter, trying to get him to say anything, do anything. Anything but what he’s doing right now. He quietly stands up from his bed and towers over you, “I’m sorry.” He says, looking away. “You know I can’t do that right now.” Your eyes widen, “Do what? Take care of a child? And I can? Alone?” He sighs and opens his door, “I’m sorry.” He says coldly, waiting for you to leave. Your eyes look at the door and immediately water. “What happened to being excited for the future? You never meant that, did you? Rafe, I’m twenty. I can’t do this alone!” You hope to get to him somehow, but you can see his walls are already built taller than you could ever break down. After taking one last look at him, you walk out of his room, for the last time. Preparing to raise a baby alone.

2 years ago - April 23rd

“You would have a baby on Earth Day.” Sarah laughs, while walking in the room. You smile at her, and the joke. “He’s already a little hippie.” Wheezie says from behind her, while holding flowers. “Hi you two,” You smile and give them weak hugs from your spot on your bed. After you let them go, they immediately swarm the cot that your newborn baby is laying in, cooing over him instantly. Sarah looks at you, “What name did you decide on?”

“Crew Joseph Thomas.” You say, with a weak smile. They both coo in awe at him and his name quietly. You hear Wheezie mumble something about using Rafe’s middle name to Sarah, who quickly shushes her.

A few hours later, Wheezie leaves to go get some food, leaving just you and Sarah in the room. “Did you tell him?” She asks, and you shake your head. “He said he couldn’t do it. I’m respecting that. I don’t think he should be in and out of Crew’s life. He’s either completely in or completely out.” You shrug, watching Crew sleep in his aunt Sarah’s arms. Wheezie walks in, frantically, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” You and Sarah look up, confused. “What?” You say, furrowing your brows. “He’s here.” You and Sarah both look at each other, and your brain goes completely numb. “How did he find out?” Sarah asks, and Wheezie shakes her head, shrugging, “Maybe Rose told him, or dad? But I think he saw me.” She looks at you, apologetically, “I’m so sorry.” You sigh, “It’s alright, Wheeze. It’s not your fault. He was gonna find out at some point, better here than anywhere else, I guess.”

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, there is a knock on the door. Sarah and Wheezie look at you, and you nod. Sarah hands Crew off to you and grabs Wheezie to sit outside. She opens the door and rolls her eyes at Rafe, pushing her and Wheezie past him and into the hallway. He walks in with his hands in his jeans pocket, trying to shrink in on himself. Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t be in a hospital room with his ex-girlfriend and their baby. He sniffs, “Hey.” You watch him walk across the room and stand at your feet, awkwardly. “Hi Rafe.” You say, quietly, “His name is Crew Joseph," watching Rafe eye Crew in your arms. “Joseph?” He asks, his eyes widening slightly and you nod. “Cameron?” He asks, finally making eye contact with you. You look at him and shake your head slowly, “Thomas. Thought it would be easier while he grows up.” He deflates slightly, but nods, “Yeah, no, makes sense.”

There’s a moment of silence before you look down at Crew, who is now wide awake, “Do you want to hold him?” You ask quietly, not wanting to startle Rafe even further. You did feel slightly bad for him, you had all of your pregnancy to prepare for this moment, but Rafe is just now showing up and seeing his baby, without seeing the birth, or your pregnancy stomach. He looks up at you, and his lips separate, before closing back quickly. “You don’t hav-” “Yes, ple-” You both speak at the same time. He chuckles softly, “I do, I want to hold him.”

After Rafe gets settled on the bed, at your feet, you pass Crew to him. Crew whines softly, and Rafe looks up at you, worried. You smile at him, reassuring him, “He’s fine. He’s just getting settled.” Rafe nods, trying to play it off, “Right, I remember Wheezie at this age.” He says, quietly. You smile softly at him, this is your Rafe. Well, not anymore, but he was. This is who you knew, not the cold, angry boy who threw you out of his room when you told him. He speaks up, “I can’t stick around. You know I can’t. I’m sorry.” He stares at Crew, staring up at Rafe from his place in his father’s protective arms. You nod, you expected this, you knew he wouldn’t stick around, you’ve prepared for it. “I think you should know that we’re moving back to Charleston after I graduate.” You say, just because he doesn’t want to be involved, doesn’t mean he shouldn’t know where his son is.

After an hour of sitting with Crew and Rafe in peaceful silence, Rafe has to leave. With his hand on the doorknob, he turns to look at you, “I’ll be in the Outer Banks after this year. If you need anything, please let me know.” He says, quietly. You nod, “Rafe.” He looks up at you, “He’ll grow up knowing who you are. He’ll know who is dad is, but I won’t say why you couldn’t be here.” He blinks rapidly and nods, before closing the door.

#rafe cameron x reader #redemption #babydaddy!rafe

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lowkeyrobin · 1 day

Note

could you write something where walker scobell and reader like each other, are super obvious about it but also super oblivious when it comes to knowing each others feelings? (bonus points if the cast of percy jackson is involved and all know about their feelings for each other)! 🎀

aweeee oh my lord yes!!! stop this is so fucking cute wtffff 😭🙏 ; thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy!!! ; ALSO!! this features a random oc because apparently no one from the older cast other than Charlie and Aryan can be normal so 🤞, oc is supposed to be like a bg character for one of Luke's friends in the show anyways!!! ; sorry this turned out so bad after you waited so long for it LMAO

WALKER SCOBELL ; oblivious

summary ; youre both oblivious to each other's feelings, and your costars need to help push you together

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; I mentioned some stores/brands that I'm pretty sure are zionist corps, so please don't go support them! this is just a fanfic, don't see this as advertisement bc these places kinda suck anyways. free palestine and do your daily clicks on arab.org

word count ; 1.6k

masterlist

"You're so stupid," Aryan sighs, walking next to you toward the mall entrance.

Leah and Walker walk ahead of you two, both talking about whatever they wanted to do while they were here. Charlie and Jordan walk behind you, acting as your parental gaurdians because apparently at ages 14-17, you weren't responsible enough to walk around a mall yourselves and needed a pair of 19 year olds by your side.

"He doesn't like me, and I don't like him, Aryan. Get it through your thick skull" You chuckle.

"Uh huh" He nods sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Walker and Leah quickly turn around, walking backwards. "Come on, we're going to Target!"

You and Aryan share a look and quickly chase after them, Charlie and Jordan walking behind all of you like uninterested parents.

You jog across the top floor of the mall and take the escalator down right in front of Target, heading for the interior doors. Leah, Walker, and Aryan head towards the children's toys aisles while you find yourself distracted in the music department. Charlie and Jordan walk around the store, just browsing while you younger teens do whatever. They weren't going to be responsible for any destruction.

You scan through the CDs, looking for anything you didn't have that you found interesting. You pick up a Conan Gray CD, one of his new album Found Heaven. You look to the left, seeing Walker quickly walking towards you, nearly walking into some lady's cart around a corner of one of the aisles.

"Hey." You chuckle, making it clear you saw him nearly get his hip busted by a middle-aged woman.

"Hi" The blonde smiles nervously, "What're you up to?"

You hold up the CD, "Browsing"

He nods, "I've never listened to him, should I?" He asks, beginning to flip through the CDs himself.

You look at him with slightly widened eyes. "Walker, how have you never listened to Conan Gray?..."

He shrugs, "I dunno"

"I'm forcing you to listen to him in the car."

"Okay, okay"

You continue looking through the CDs, seeing if they had anything else to your interest. For a split second, your shoulder brushes against his, considering you were standing so close.

You keep quiet, feeling your face heat up a bit. He feels the same way, unbeknownst to you. You nervously glance at each other, milliseconds apart so you never saw the opposite look.

"Walker, we found water guns!"

"They're so awesome, I could literally just stare at them all day while they talk about their favorite movie" The curly haired blonde smiles, slowly strolling down the lower half of the mall with Aryan and Leah at his side. "I don't think I've ever smiled and laughed so much than when I'm with them, seriously. Everything about them is so amazing, like, I could marry them here and now"

"And you said you don't have a crush on them," Leah states sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "You're something else"

"I don't have a crush on them!" Walker exclaims, the plastic bag in his hand slinging back and forth as he walked, spinning it around his fingers. "I was just describing what I like about them, yeesh"

The two look at him with similar expressions.

"You have a crush on them. Accept it, dude." Aryan sighs, patting Walker on the shoulder. "I'm like, 99% sure they feel the same way as well"

"Shut up!"

"Walker!"

"Quiet!"

You instantly connect the disembodied voice to your familiar blonde friend, having been grabbing a pretzel with Jordan and Charlie. You were stealing their money for food since you'd spent fifty dollars on CDs, plus an extra one for Walker. Thank God Charlie knew who his favorite band was, you'd wanted to get him an actual gift before you left for home tomorrow.

Jordan and Charlie sat down at one of the tables next to the big escalator in the middle of the mall, in clear earshot of the trio who just walked out of Bath and Body Works. They send a shared expression to Leah and Aryan, and they both nod back.

Walker doesn't notice, considering he was busy ranting about how he doesn't have a crush on you and was more focused on his body language and speaking with his hands then figuring out who or what his friends were looking at.

You walk to the table, get a look at the trio, their backs face towards you, and you hand Charlie and Jordan their food.

The two are oddly quiet as they munch down, which makes you question if they're conspiring against you. You ignore it, though, wanting to enjoy your pretzel while you had it.

Charlie and Jordan finally start conversation as you finish up your pretzel and soda, which you devoured. They were talking about some TV show they liked as you stood up, threw your garbage away, and headed toward the bathrooms. You leave the elder teens alone, walking down the dim side-hallway to the restrooms.

Charlie quickly pulls out his phone once your back was to them and calls Aryan. He was with Leah and Walker across the mall, where he and Leah had sneakily set Walker up to get you a little gift. The teens converse quietly and privately, not wanting their victims to hear.

"Yeah, he's inside with Leah, where's Y/n?"

"Restroom" Jordan answers, as they'd FaceTimed him. She pushes her dark hair away from her face as she speaks.

"Okay, where are you guys going next? We're going to Barnes and Noble back near you guys, on the top floor." Aryan informs

"Alright, we'll go fix my phone plan really quick and head over" Jordan nods, looking at Charlie for approval.

He nods as well, and quickly whispers bye as he hangs up. You walk back toward them with a light smile, asking where you were going next.

"We're gonna fuck around with my phone bill, and-"

"-Meet them at the food court!" Charlie finishes, trying to keep you and Walker apart for a moment. He sends a glance to Jordan, who pulls out her phone.

"Oh, okay" You shrug.

After joining Jordan to be a Karen to get her phone bill fixed, you three head up to the food court to meet up with Walker, Leah, and Aryan. As you sit down with them, they all make excuses to leave or go to different spots to get food. That leaves you and Walker at the table alone, both of you unable to start conversation.

You'd just eaten the biggest pretzel of your life, and it turns out he had a milkshake not too long ago. You both nervously smile at each other, biting your nails and fidgeting your fingers a bit. Aryan and Charlie watch from the Noodles and Company line, trying to see if you'd hand over your gifts for each other.

Right on queue, you decide to just give Walker the CD you'd gotten for him, not wanting to miss the sort-of-private opportunity to give it to him. You pull it out of the plastic bag that rests on the floor next to your feet. You hand it to him over the table, awaiting his reaction.

He quickly smiles and looks up at you. "Is that for me?"

"Duh"

He graciously accepts the gift, looking at it front and back over and over again. "How did you know I liked David Bowie?"

You shrug with a smug smile. "One, everyone likes Bowie, two, I know more about you than you think"

He playfully and lightly scoffs with a smile. "Thank you. Actually! That reminds me, I got you something too"

He reaches into the bag that sat next to him, and pulls out a few candy bars and bags, and slides them over the table for you. One of those is a lollipop shaped like a rose.

You smile and give him a warm thank you, laying your eyes on the Twizzlers for the most part.

"Y'know, I have a feeling I'm gonna like Conan Gray in the car"

"Oh, you will, trust me"

In the distance, Aryan and Charlie share looks.

"They're so head over heels for each other" Charlie sighs, "Can they just kiss already?"

Aryan nods, "We need to really push them together"

"How?"

"We'll ask Jordy and Leah"

"Sounds like a plan"

You and Walker sit side by side, smiles on your faces as you rest on the ledge of the fountain. You look back at all the silver and copper coins in the water, shimmering under the rippling water.

"And the whole thing exploded all over me! It was the dumbest thing ever"

You chuckle, listening to Walker talk about some science project exploding all over him in seventh grade.

"Y'know, you're like, really cool" He smiles, nervously glancing at Aryan.

You feel a smile tugging at your lips, "Oh, uhm, thank you. You're cool too, dude" You lightly punch his shoulder.

"No, like, cool cool" He clarifies.

You look over at your four friends, all wearing sunglasses, acting like they weren't spying on your conversation, on their phones or looking away nervously.

"Is this some kind of setup?"

"No!" He quickly replies, "I just, like, think you're really cool" He says, feeling too nervous to go out and ask the question or confess his feelings.

Leah groans and stands up, Aryan at her side.

"Just kiss already!" She says, throwing her hands in the air, "This show is too slow!"

"Kiss!" Aryan cheers, "Please! Do it already! It hurts to watch this anymore"

You look back at Walker, cheeks and ears as red as a stop sign.

Walker shrugs with a nervous look, which you share with him.

"Okay, well, I'm not kissing you on the ledge of a mall fountain"

"Yeah, I get that one"

#lowkeyrobin #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader #walker scobell x reader #walker scobell x gn reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson x reader #walker scobell

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rottin6 · 2 days

Text

mdni. 18+ | lilyrosekiller.

thinking about bartylily again but like, with evan. like barty and lily are just a totally normal couple, doing couple shit together, but there’s this guy in lily’s lab class who’s just a total fucking loser and when she tells barty about him, well barty’s just gotta have him. they befriend evan and take him everywhere with them, back to their houses, to parties, everywhere. they get him used to the overload of affection that they give him, passing it off as “well shit, ev, this is what all friends do.” — barty stroking the bit of skin between evan’s shirt and jeans, his thumb making soft circles and evan’s on guard the whole time. he doesn’t want lily to think he’s coming on to her man, but she’s looking back at him, encouraging him even.

lily’s way more touchy than barty, but evan doesn’t think too much of it ‘cause “all girls are like this, right?” and yet he’s ashamed of the way his cock twitches when she runs a hand down his chest, leaning too close into his side when they’re all sitting together at his house. or the way his breathing quickens and a drop of wetness appears on the front of his shorts when lily ‘accidentally’ lifts her skirt up, her ass too close to his crotch for a taken girl. but they’re friends, and evan figures it’s totally normal, right? friends are usually this affectionate, always showing their love.

but then they’re playing truth or dare one night and lily asks evan if he’s ever had sex with someone, gaping when he says no. but lily’s his best friend and it’s totally normal when she grabs barty from the kitchen, pulling him into the kitchen: “you’re telling me you’ve never even made out with someone? wait–wait, hold on, barty, come here.” and then they’re both pushing evan onto barty’s lap, barty grinning down at him yet evan’s still apprehensive, looking at lily but she rolls her eyes, “it’s okay, i’m here so it’s not even weird.”

a few drinks and words of reassurance later, evan’s naked on the couch, sat on barty’s hard length, taking him in slowly as lily encourages him. barty pushes inside, inch by inch, not wanting to hurt evan, and lily’s right there, massaging her tits and pushing her tongue in evan’s mouth. she whispers comforting words against his lips, giggling softly as evan nods, doing whatever she says.

and barty would still be a complete dick about it, don't get me wrong, but also somehow really nice at the same time. he’d push his cock inside of evan, leaning down to grip onto his chin, forcing him to look up: “listen, don’t be a pussy—we won’t hurt you, or make you do anything you don't want.” and evan would just nod along, his eyes teary as he looks between the couple wondering what the fuck he got himself into.

#they're just a totally normal couple #not perverted at all #no way not them #lilyrosekiller #rosekiller #bartylily #lily evans #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #marauders #layla writes

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loonmartell · 23 hours

Text

𓄹𓄼 Rainy day brew 𓄼𓄹

(No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary : Can a stormy night and well brewed coffee bring two hearts together?

Rating : Explicit/+18 (Smut! MDNI)

Word count : 6,336 (I got carried away sorry..)

Warnings/tags : No outbreak AU, pining, Alternating POV, pet names, one “yes, ma’am” because I couldn’t help it, a sprinkle of plot, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, kissing, teasing, One (1) playful ass slap, creampie), storms (rain, thunder & lightning), A LOT of yapping about pour over coffee, no use of y/n.

A/N : Hello again! Today I come with Joel smut 🙏🏻. I wrote this for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge! I absolutely fell in love with the idea when i saw it, cuz if there’s one thing about me it’s that I LOVE rain! So ofc i had to try and do it <3 A big huge colossal thank you to @joels-darlin for being my lovely beta <33 and @coispunk for not blocking me after i bounced off the walls contemplating if i should upload this or not ✨✨✨

Masterlist

——

“You need a ride home darlin’?”

You turn to the source of the voice and find Joel talking to you through the rolled down window of his pick up truck.

“Oh! no it’s okay I can wait for the rain to—”

“Non ‘a that now, This storm could last ‘til tomorrow night” he leans over the passenger seat to open the door for you.

It’s not that you wouldn’t appreciate the ride —you most certainly would— but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience and you especially didn’t want Joel to think that you were aburden.

You didn’t know each other very well. Your best friend Maria is dating his brother Tommy. And you’ve been dragged to a couple of dinners and drinks over the last couple of months with the three of them. But the conversations were always guided by the other two, so you and Joel never really spoke much. In fact, you had the fleeting idea that maybe Joel didn’t like you. He’s always so tense around you, you know this because you literally saw his jaw tensing after you showed up. And you caught him glaring at you a couple of times. You thought you may have unknowingly offended him somehow, but Maria assured you afterwards that you didn't say or do anything wrong and that he was probably just tired. So you let it go, but the idea is still floating around in your head.

Tonight was one of those nights where you went out for drinks, Maria and Tommy headed home early and left you with Joel half an hour ago. And not long after that Joel excused himself saying he had an early morning and said his goodbyes.

You waited a couple of minutes before you got out as well. Only, much to your delight; a storm was brewing and it was raining by the time you were ready to walk home. What an incredible choice you made to walk instead of drive on this day.

When Joel was one street away from where he left you at the bar. He thought back on when you mentioned leaving your car at home because you thought it was nice weather for a stroll. He tried really hard to get the idea of you walking home in this storm out of his head. You can manage. Get an uber, call a cab, whatever. But then again, Joel's southern manners would never allow him. That, and this big, colossal crush he has on you.

The first time he ever saw you was when he picked up Tommy from Maria’s (and your) apartment one morning. Tommy left him waiting long enough for you to get out and go to work (he assumed). You really had him in a chokehold. You were really, breathtakingly beautiful. You had your hair in a high ponytail with a few strands deliberately out, framing the gorgeous features of your face. You had both your hands full. One had a large handbag hanging from your wrist, hand holding a travel mug and a coat hanging on your forearm. The other hand was holding a bright red watering can. You started watering the flower beds on the windowsills and the big pot of gardenias right by the door. Your next door neighbour, an old lady, got out at that time. And Joel saw your cheery smile for the first time, and what he assumed were good mornings were exchanged. What a sweet, little thing.

He had the sudden urge to roll down the car window so he could hear what voice accompanied that divine face. But he thought better of it. And sooner than he would prefer, you were in your car and driving off.

When Tommy finally showed up, apparently physically unable to take his lips off of Maria’s, judging by how they never separated even after he was out the door. Joel rolled his eyes and turned his face away from that scene and towards the street on his other side.

Finally Tommy got into the car with a disgusting, lovesick smile on his face. But he smelled like shampoo and his hair was relatively wet. He showered and for that Joel is eternally grateful.

“You’re late” Joel deadpanned.

“And good morning to you too, brother” The younger man scoffed before placing two travel mugs in the cup holders.

Joel scrunched his eyebrows “what's that?”

“Coffee, Maria’s roommate brews her own with one ‘a those pour over kits and she insisted that we try hers.”

Joel’s throat went dry, thinking about that pretty girl he was unashamedly staring at, going out of her way to make enough coffee for her friend’s boyfriend’s brother. A sweet, delightful little thing.

“That’s real nice of her” if his voice cracked a little, Tommy didn’t notice.

“Yeah it is. So I’ve been thinkin’,” Tommy changed the subject faster than Joel would like. “You think you can drop me off at my place at say.. Two?”

“Two? We finish at the site at least after Three, what d’ya mean you wanna get out at Two?” Joel shifted his eyes from the road long enough to glare at his brother.

“Yeah I know but I was thinkin’” Joel is really starting to hate it when Tommy thinks “today’s me and Maria’s six months anniversary, and I kinda wanna do somethin’ special for her”

Six months anniversary Joel mentally scoffed, the fuck is a six months anniversary? And why isn’t he talking more about that damn sweet roommate!

“Yeah no can do, Romeo. We’re already behind ‘cause ’a last week, need I remind you that you ditched me laying down parquet on my own? had to do the three bedrooms that day all by myself”

“I told you we should’a done planks instead of parquet but you never listen to me, do you?” Tommy’s counter argument was weaker than he was hoping for. It was the owner’s choice, not Joel’s. And they both knew it. “Plus I had a damn plausible excuse that day”

“Not sure if a discount on an already cheap restaurant counts as plausible”

“It wasn’t just a ’discount’, Joel. It was a surf ‘n turf for half the price!”

“Yeah well I was surfin’ and turfin’ alone on the floors of the Johnsons. You’re not ditchin’ me again.”

Tommy slumped down on his chair like a toddler would.

On a red light Joel finally picked up his mug and took his first sip. A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making little thing.

——

Before he even knew it, Joel was opening the passenger side door for you, not taking no for an answer. Thankfully, you didn’t put up that much of a fight and climbed your pretty ass in his truck.

The ride was pretty short and silent. The sound of thunder and loud smacks of raindrops against the car not leaving much room for chatting anyway.

When he parked as close as he could to your door, he reached behind your seat to the pocket of it. And brought out a small, folded umbrella. He knew it was a mere seconds walk from the car to your door, but he had the umbrella with him already, so why risk giving you a cold? Your nose, red and sniffling. He had to actively suppress the upturn of the corners of his lips.

“Here” he handed you the umbrella and before you could get a chance to speak, he followed with “not taking no for an answer, darlin’. Gettin’ soaked in this wind could get you sick”

“Um.. actually the storm’s getting stronger, and I was gonna suggest you come inside? I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you driving in this weather”

A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful little thing.

He looked out the windows, trying to figure out his next move.

“Think I’ll take you up on that offer. It does look pretty bad, and the slippery streets are harder to navigate when I can’t see further than my nose.” He brought his eyes to you. Hoping he wouldn’t seem too eager to agree.

You graced him with a smile and said “well alright then, guess now I don’t have to feel bad for hogging you umbrella”

“ ‘s not hogging if I’m voluntarily givin’ it to you” he smirked as he turned off the car. He got out of it with a quick “stay where you are” and opened the umbrella as he rounded to your side of the truck.

You walked under the umbrella he was holding. You’ve never been this close to him before and it gave you goosebumps that had nothing to do with the weather. You fiddled with your keys until you got the door open. There was no car outside or shoes in the foyer. They must’ve gone to Tommy's then. As much as you always wanted some quiet, alone time in your apartment. This was not one of those times. You were hoping Maria and Tommy were here to take the edge off of being alone with Joel, but you can’t really back out now and you’re already here. So, time to take a page out of the southern manners book.

”What would you like to drink?” you offered after he settled on the couch. His large frame dwarfing your whole living room, making everything look almost miniature. The thought had you blushing and you don’t really know why, but you don’t even want to find out.

“Coffee would be nice, if it's not a bother” his voice travelled through his place on the couch to the kitchen.

You can’t help the excited grin you have on “not at all! I just got a new Holklotz set that I’ve been dying to try out” when you get a new brewing set, you need time to experiment with different coffee grinds, ratios and timing between blooming and brewing to master the perfect cup. Time is a luxury not available to you on late mornings when you trade it for extra minutes of sleep.

Footsteps approaching the kitchen make you raise your head to see Joel coming into view, his eyebrows scrunched and confused “you got a what?”

You smile and hold the wooden base of the dripstand that you took out of the cabinet “this is my newest set, it arrived a week ago but between work and being too tired after, I haven’t had the time to bring it out and try it yet. Until now” you look at him with a too excited smile that you don’t try to hide.

“Well alrighty then, you happen to have here the perfect white mouse, test away” he settles at the barstool by the kitchen island that you’re standing by. You weigh the coffee beans and put them in the manual grinder, set to the size you need. Not too coarse but not too fine.

“Okay white mouse, care to help?” You hold up the grinder.

“Tell me what you need, boss” he concludes. So, you hand him the grinder to work on it as you heat the water and take the rest of the set out and put it together.

He continues working on grinding the coffee and wonders if you have immensely great upper body strength, since you do this every morning. His coffee is already ground and comes in a container. He doesn’t see the necessity for an upper body workout every time you need a little caffeine. But truth be told, he has been craving that coffee you made him that one time. Damned if it wasn’t the best cup he’s ever had.

The silence is killing him, and he has to avail from the storm that brought him to your home. “So, when you’re not at work or training for an arm wrestlin’ tournament,” he gestures to the grinder “what do you like to do?”

“Obviously, I take part in the tournaments I train for” you say with a serious expression that has his eyes widened in surprise. “I’m kidding, Joel. Although I think I have a good solid shot at winning.” You stick your nose up in the prettiest little smug face and Joel wants to kiss it away so bad. Focus.

He drags himself back to the present “can’t argue with that. But, if you’re basing that over this,” he again gestures to the grinder in his hands “then it’s not enough bargain for winning”.

You scoff and raise your hands up, wiggling your fingers “you have no idea what these hands can do” Joel can see you regretted blurting out the words without thinking, judging by the rising blush on your face and the way you don’t meet his eyes anymore. He can’t say he’s any better, his mind is already conjuring unholy images, reeling his brain and sending a rush of tingling heat down south.

What can they do? He imagines your small hands trying to wrap around his throbbing cock. Or you writhing on your bed stuffing yourself with three of your too small fingers, desperately trying to cum. He bets he can do it faster and better for you. If you give him the chance.

He knows he shouldn’t be picturing you like this. It’s crazy to even think about you like this. You haven’t even told him if you’re interested. Hell he never even said anything to show you he’s interested.

Clearing your throat, this time you’re the one bringing him back to the present, you say “anyway, I think I got off topic there” you let out a nervous chuckle. “To answer your question. My time is pretty much divided between work, coffee and my plants. I’m kinda boring, don’t really got much going on”

Joel doesn’t hear the presence of a partner in your life, and he selfishly likes it.

“Don’t sound boring to me, ‘s pretty comfortable” you smile at his comment and he gives you the coffee grounds, ready to be used.

You start your brewing process, talking him through every step you’re doing. Wetting the filter, dumping the coffee grounds in and meticulously pouring the water on the dripper. The blooming, the timing. He can’t promise he heard everything. Because you bite your bottom lip and your face contorts in the cutest focused face and he can’t help but stare. You really love doing this and he wants to eat you up.

“My chemex is my go-to on late mornings,” You suddenly pipe up as you’re waiting for the water to drip through the coffee grounds. “Even though it takes longer than a V60, It’s just faster to clean up and I can dual-task while it’s brewing. So I don’t mind.”

He lets out a hum from the back of his throat, considering what you said. “What about the taste? Whaddya like more?” He surprises himself that he actually cares and not just trying to be polite.

“I like them both the same, the flavour with the V60 is usually richer ‘cause the filters are thinner, but I still like the soft, smooth taste when using the chemex”.

In the back of his mind, Joel thinks he’s ready to fall in love with you. He loves coffee, sure. But to him it’s just something he needs in the morning and sometimes later in the day. Never really thought much of it, he has a coffee machine that gets work done for him. And yet, here you are, showing him a different, almost artistic aspect of it.

“Although..” Okay so you’re not done yet. “If we’re talking taste-wise in the brewing methods, I’ll have to go with the syphon”

“Syphon?”

“Yes syphon, I tried it once in a lovely family owned coffee shop across town. I’m telling you, if I lived near there? I would be a regular faster than you can say syphon”

“Well syphon is a long word, two full syllables” he faux ponders, making you giggle.

“Okay smartass, coffee’s ready.” You pull out two mugs from the cabinet. And fill them up. And slide his across the kitchen island, a brown owl adorning the ceramic surface.

You both sip at the same time then let out a ridiculously simultaneous soft sighs. You look at Joel with wide, pleading eyes, gauging his reaction. And of course, being the honest man that he is, he would never lie.

“Damn, that is good” he clicks his tongue and goes for another sip.

You smile brightly “I like it too. Although it’s a little more bitter for my liking, think I'll adjust the grind next time.”

You want to kick yourself so bad. You’re only now realising that you got too comfortable and you let yourself go on and on about something he probably doesn’t even care about. You had to shut the caffeine talk down.

“So, Joel, how's Sarah?” You gestured for him to follow you to the living room.

He settled on one side of the loveseat while you occupied the other, folding your legs under yourself. “She’s alright, her mom wanted her to see her grandma so she’s with her this week.” Maria told you all about their co-parenting system and how they’re succeeding in making it work so far. Little 10 years old Sarah spends equal amounts of time with both her parents and she feels loved by both. Not everything is a bed of roses, of course. But they deal with obstacles when they appear in their time.

“That’s nice, and how was her game last week? I remember you said she was nervous about it?” He stared at you for a few seconds too long that it makes you wonder if you crossed a line or said something wrong. But he blinked a couple of times and continued.

“Doin’ great actually, my little goal getter” he pondered softly before announcing “she scored the winning goal in last week’s game!” He sat up a little, you think it’s unconsciously as a result of his excitement.

“Oh my god! That’s so amazing!” You matched his energy “you must be so proud!”.

His smile widened if it was possible “I am, she puts her mind into something and never rests ‘til she gets it,” he reclined against the couch again “dunno where she got it from, but I sure as hell am not gonna complain”

“You’re selling yourself short, Joel.” You offered a warm smile “I’m sure you’ve been a great influence on her, your determination is probably rubbing off on her.”

Joel’s expression softened, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, sure means a lot coming from you, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest, I just wanna see my girl chasin’ her dreams and be happy. ‘s all I want”

“I have no doubt she’ll do so much, and she’ll achieve great things with your guidance and support” you placed your hand on his knees for reassurance.

He felt warmth all over his chest, his heartbeats exceeding those of a hummingbird. His eyes fell down to where your hand was touching and almost burning him, and they stayed there for a while before looking back at your eyes. He has this immense urge to kiss you. The tension has been building all night and his ability to hold himself off is getting harder and harder by the second.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his racing heart as he met your gaze. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your faith in her means the world to me."

Your hand lingered on his knee for a moment longer before you withdrew it, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "She's lucky to have you as her dad, y’know" you said softly, the look in your eyes showing the sincerity of your words.

A moment of silence passed between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Joel's gaze flickered to your lips, his own heart still pounding accompanied by longing. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to convey the feelings swirling inside him.

He brought his eyes back up to yours only to see that your gaze had been on his lips, mirroring his desires. Your gazes met, the tension snapped. Lightning flashes through the window right before your eyes and your lips crash in a bruising, soaring kiss that to outsiders would look as if you were trying to devour each other. Everything happened at a rather fast pace. The roaring of the thunder dwindled by frantic breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. His tongue demanded entry, which you gave no problem. He brought his large palm over your hips, pulling you over to straddle him, never breaking the kiss.

He felt your heat through the layers of clothes between you as you settled on his lap, pulling a soft gasp out of you. Using his grasp on your hips, he rocked you back and forth to grind your center on his bulge, eliciting a string of whines you let out in between the clashing of tongues. In a moment of sudden clarity, he broke off your lips but never moved too far away, he rested his forehead to yours, sharing the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice husky with emotion.“Um- I’m sorry, is- is this okay?”

You continued to move against him, seeking more friction. Then you chuckled through your laboured breathing, “yeah, yes I want this. If- if you do too.”

“Oh darlin’ you have no idea” he hurried out before picking up where he left off, trailing his lips down the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck where he settled on open mouthed kisses that sent your head falling back, giving him more of you. He got addicted to the taste of your skin on his tongue fast and he craved to taste more.

Dragging his mouth over your shoulders then to your collarbone. He huffed in frustration, your shirt was personally offending him by denying him the access he needed. Seeming to sense his frustration, you pushed him away slightly so you could pull off your shirt over your head in one smooth motion. He wasted no time roaming his hands all over your torso, returning his mouth to your collarbones, kissing his way down to the parts of your breasts spilling out from your bra.

His hands slithered up from your hips to the sides of your waist, then wrapped around your back and moved up to hook his fingers underneath the strap of your bra. He mumbled against your skin, “can I take it off?” You gasped your affirmation. Overwhelming sensations leaving you breathless.

Even though it was a simple bra strap, he struggled to unhook it. Hands too shaky and excited. You breathed a laugh and did it yourself. Once you’re completely bare, nipples perking up as soon as the cold air hits them. He pulled away, looking at you with wide, fascinated eyes. His lips immediately latched around a nipple, flicking his tongue slowly, almost as if he’s savouring the feeling. He pulled away and murmured “beautiful”. Just to latch onto the other one with the same treatment, “absolutely beautiful” he murmured again into the plushness of your tits.

You felt a shiver at the undivided attention from the gorgeous man that seems to never get enough of you. Of course you always thought he was handsome, that was non negotiable. The man was gorgeous from day one. And tonight, you felt a connection that you never felt before. And as soon as the ties were made, the tension rose suddenly, as if it had always been there but you were too much in your head to notice it, contemplating whether he likes you or not. But now, you do notice it. Very much so. And it’s becoming unbearable. You want him so bad. You want him to drown all your senses. You want him inside, outside, under and over you.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You held his head with both your hands to pull him away from your chest before saying “need to see you too, Joel” you pleaded as you fumbled with the hem of his shirt trying to lift it. His eyes darkened at your desperation. As quick as the lightning that occasionally lights up the room around you, he flipped you so your back is against the couch and took off his shirt and jeans and hovered above you.

You took a steadying breath and your eyes drank in the sight in front of you, bringing your hands on each of his wrists. You mapped the outlines of his thick arms, moving towards his shoulders. Then brought them back to his broad chest, bare except for the hair that formed a thick layer in the center. You felt the muscles ripple under your fingertips. Built from the physical labour that a contractor would endure. You lowered your touch a little to feel his soft stomach. Squishy tummy, a sign of a man that was actually living and feeding himself well. Not shying away from a meal or obsessing over fitting society’s mould of perfection. You wanted to kiss it and nibble on it so bad, but you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with it, that was probably more of a second time type of thing. Mentally shaking your head away from the idea that you’re already thinking of next time when nothing even happened yet. Lastly, you ran your fingers on the smattering of coarse, dark hair that dipped further down into his tented boxers.

Mostly empty coffee cups long abandoned on the table. He knelt on his knees between your spread legs, and yanked your pants and panties in one quick motion. Towering over your naked form. His eyes danced around every inch of your body. He brought his thumbs to each side of your heat. Tracing the outside of your folds. He murmured so low, almost as if he’s talking to himself “Too goddamn pretty for your own good, baby”. He was basking in the sight of your desperate writhing as your need for any kind of friction became unfathomable.

“Please,” you whined in frustration, A smirk pulled on his lips at your little pouty face.

“Please what, darlin’?”

“Touch me” your keen hands reach for his wrists to coax them where you want him. But he was determined to keep his hands at their place.

Yeah, your hands are too small, too soft for such a sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager little thing.

“I am touching you now, ain’t I?” He keeps stroking the outside of your lower lips.

“More, please.” You whimpered.

“Well, you leave me no choice now, since you asked so nicely”

He wasted no time gathering the slick from your opening and plunging his thick middle finger in and out. Your breath catching at the sudden but welcome stretch. Not long after, his ring finger joined inside and he curled them both up, searching and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll and your hips buck into his hand in shock.

“sit still, angel.” He placed his other hand on your lower stomach to keep your back rested on the couch. He picked up the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, massaging the same spot over and over and over. He felt your walls slightly tightening around his fingers, and there’s a change in the rhythm of your breathing. You’re close. “Cum for me, angel. Come on lemme see this pretty pussy droolin’ for me”. He kept his pace up until you were gasping for air. And with a specifically strong stroke, your walls clumped down, choking his fingers and soaking them to the wrist. Working you through your high, he kept his eyes on you, the sight of you coming apart on his fingers. Heavenly.

He took his fingers out and sucked them with lewd, obscene sounds. He made a show to lick his palm clean of your release and humming around his fingers. “Next time, I’m havin’ it straight from its source” he leaned down and kissed your parted lips. “Oughta have a palate cleanser ‘f we’re gonna give your coffee a fair shot” he gave a playful smack to your ass “and you sure know how to make ‘em.”

You blushed and giggled as you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of the prospect of a next time. The image of Joel relishing the taste of you is already seared deep in your brain. You couldn’t wait to have these slurping noises happening between your legs, certain already that he doesn’t eat, he devours.

He sat up on his haunches and lowered his boxers below his balls. He took his cock in his hand. Not even his large hand wrapped around it makes it seem any less girthy. The head is angry and leaking a steady stream. He gives himself slow, languid strokes from base to red-purplish head. You couldn’t help yourself, you sat up and your hand took over his. Stroking him at the same pace he was. He shuddered at your touch and marvelled at the contrast between his rough, calloused hand versus your soft, smooth ones on his cock. You gradually increased the pressure, adding a twist at the end that sent his head falling back with a stifled groan between his clenched teeth.

His hands were tight fists by his sides, desperately trying to hold off but ready to pounce at you any moment. “Hold on, baby” he groaned “I- I gotta grab a condom”

“But I wanna feel you, and I’m safe” you said in a little, unsure voice. Still stroking him and loving the velvety softness enveloping the steely hardness. When your gazes met again, the hungry look in his eyes made a tiny sound climb to the back of your throat. With that, the last thread holding off the beast inside him snapped. With a low growl he grabbed your ankles, yanking you closer to his pelvis, making your back hit the soft pillow on the couch with a dull thud.

“Baby, I’m clean too. But I need ya to be sure, angel. ‘Cause when I start, ‘m not really sure I can stop” He said through dark eyes that were straining to hold off.

You held firm eye contact with him “I’m sure, Joel. Please fuck me now”

“Yes, ma’am” with that, he ran his cock through your slit, gathering you wetness before lining it with your entrance and with one quick motion he sinks into you. Your moans and his name on your tongue, dripping honey onto his ear. He feels your warmth enveloping every inch of him. He wants to get lost in the feeling. To replace every bad memory he has with this sensation, the divine fit of your silky smooth walls, encompassing him. So tight, so soft, so perfect.

As his hips rocked back and forth, you wrapped your legs around him, and dug your heels into his ass, wanting him impossibly deeper. Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy little thing. He removed his hands from beside your head to hold the base of your skull in one of his palms and wrap the other under your waist for leverage. Grunting into your neck while your pretty moans filling his ears got louder as he moved in a pace that promised him a date with painkillers and an ice pack on his back tomorrow night.

When he felt the telltale signs of your near release, he gently let go of your head to bring his hand down and circle your bundle of nerves. Your continuous string of frantic pleads prompted him to lay soothing kisses to the corner of your mouth. With a compulsive string of “it’s okay, baby”, “sound so pretty whinin’ like that”, and “just let go for me, princess.”

The last one pushing you over the edge. With your legs quivering, your breathing turning into shallow panting and your hands clawing at his back. He was working you through it all with a “that’s it, angel. There ya go”, “so good for me” and “look so pretty cummin’ on my cock”.

Once your muscles stopped contracting and your heartbeat settled on. Joel switched to a more gentle pace. You stuttered out between small gasps of air “cum for me, Joel. Fill me up”. Leaving him no choice but to buck into you wildly with renewed vigour. Fucking you like all of his goddamn life is depending on it.

Loving the effect you have on him, you whispered “Wanna feel you inside me after you leave, Joel”. This makes his release hit him like a freight train. With a few forceful plunges and a string of grunted out fucks. He shoots his load with a prolonged groan of your name, painting your walls with strong, long spurts. He came so hard, he thinks he blacked out for a minute.

He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling in your neck and surrounding himself in your scent as he comes down from his high. In the middle of the chaos of regulating heartbeats and relaxing bodies, your laboured breathing turns into a giggle when his beard tickles your neck and under your jaw. He lifted his head to look at you with a “what?” and scrunched eyebrows. You stifled your giggle with a shake of your head. Only failing when he dips his head in your neck again. He smirked when realisation hit him. Lifting his head again “You’re ticklish ain’tcha, angel?” His face is so close your noses were touching.

You pressed your lips in a firm, straight line and shook your head again.

“No? So you don’t mind me doing this?” He rubbed his beard on your neck again and again. You went into a giggle fit that triggered his own breathy chuckles as he switched to the other side.

“Okay, okay I am, I am!” You managed to say between giggles.

He stopped and looked you straight in the eyes “ ‘s what I thought” he descended his lips on yours and they mingled in a soft, deep kiss that made you lightheaded. He wouldn’t mind getting used to this, “Lemme clean ya up, princess”.

One year later.

The anniversary of your first “get together” is today. Joel wanted to skip work all together, but he knew Tommy would give him shit about it. How ironic.

He rented a gorgeous, comfy cabin for the weekend, that’s a thirty minutes drive away from town. Joel coaxed Sarah into a slumber party at her uncle’s, which she would’ve very happily agreed to either way. But she’s a smart kid and she chose to haggle for a later bedtime and ice cream for dessert both nights.

He wanted to take the extra time to prepare everything you might need, from basic essentials like food or first aid kits, to extra entertainment options like books or puzzles. He doubts they’ll need the latter though.

——

But then again, it’s April, and a storm was closing in. Rendering the drive there too dangerous to make during the night. And the storm is predicted to last the whole weekend, even threatening to close schools on Monday.

“I’m just upset you didn’t get your money’s worth from that cabin” you say with worried expressions as you put away the food that you aimlessly packed earlier.

Joel brings the last of the suitcases in, sitting them by the door. “The owners seem pretty nice, bet they’ll understand and agree to push the reservation back”

“Then, that settles it.” You sighed and closed the fridge with finality. “We’re having our anniversary weekend here” you approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He instinctively placed his hands on the dip of your waist, and grunted with furrowed eyebrows “I got a long ass list of things I wanted to do to you in that cabin, now ‘s just sitting in my wallet mockin’ me”.

“It’s for the better, gives me time to make my own list” you teased him with a wink and a bite to your lower lip.

He squeezed your waist with a low, gravel groan. Eyes on your lips in a strong, hungry stare.

But before he can act on his thoughts you unwrap yourself from his tight grasp and turn away with a shout that carries upstairs “Sarah, change of plans! We’re staying here for the weekend!”

Hearing her footsteps descending the stairs, Sarah asked “you’re staying with us too?”. She squeals when you nod with a bright grin. “Now we can watch that movie I told you about last week!” With that, she drags you into the living room, gushing to you about the movie while you listen with interest and occasional oohs and aahs and reactions Joel knows are genuine.

Every other sound dies down as one thought only echoes in his head.

Oh god, please let me keep her.

The black, velvet box burns a hole in his suitcase. And item no.1 on his list sits idle by, just waiting to be checked.

He knows you’ll say yes, this isn’t a subject you avoid. You’re both aware of what you want in a relationship and you communicate your needs to each other. So you’re both sure that you’re on the same page. The element of surprise lies in the timing and method only.

As he looks at you and his daughter, he knows that this feels right. This is how it is supposed to be.

Okay, he owes Tommy an apology. Because now he understands disgusting, lovesick smiles and the urge to get out of work early. He understands six month anniversaries, because when he’s with you; there isn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for the mere chance to make you happy.

A Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

My Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

——

A/N : Again, if you’re still here, I love you so much & you made my day <333 pls tell me your thoughts! I write cuz i love doing it but i need to know if i should continue to upload or just let the contents of my delulu brain stay in my phone 🫣

Loon out, luv yaa <33

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

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sluttywonwoo · 23 hours

Text

instead of you [part forty-one] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ ; mdni)

word count: 3.2k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

additional smut warnings: semi-public messing around, oral - m+f receiving

The other resorts along the shore were nice, yes, but they were also crowded to all hell. There’s no way you would have been able to relax at any of them. Not just because crowds make you anxious, but because Minho probably wouldn’t be able to show his face anywhere. He’d have to wear a hoodie to the pool or swim with a baseball cap on, and even those weren’t guaranteed to be foolproof.

There were hardly any people occupying the outdoor spaces so late in the day so it was like you had the place to yourselves. You and Felix continued to play in the pool while Minho grilled steaks and Jisung worked upstairs. You offered to accompany Jisung while he cooked but he assured you that he was fine to do it himself. Sometimes you kept him company at home but you knew he liked to work alone as well.

The room that you and Jisung were staying in was a standard hotel room but Nikki and Dom had a suite with a kitchenette that he could use to prepare the side dishes.

You ate gathered around one of the fire pits as the sun sank beneath the waves in the distance. When it got too dark out, Dom lit the fire so that you could all see what you were eating. There were path lights littered around the resort but they weren’t bright enough to illuminate the adjacent sitting areas too.

“I wish we had marshmallows,” you sighed. “We could roast them and make s’mores.”

“I think the bar sells little kits,” Jisung piped up. “I remember seeing a sign posted on their menu.”

“How convenient!” Nikki exclaimed.

“Want me to grab some?” Minho offered, already standing from his seat.

You had once again put yourself on the spot. Everyone was looking at you, waiting for your answer.

“I-I’d feel bad. I’m the only one who wants them, so you don’t have to!”

“Don’t be silly, we’d all eat them,” Jisung assured you with a pat on your knee.

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to try s’mores,” Felix agreed.

Your mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait, you’ve never had one?”

“They’re an American thing, babe.”

“Does that mean you’re the only other one here who has had a s’more?” you asked Jisung.

“I might have had one before,” Minho added thoughtfully.

“Might? You don’t remember?”

“Yeah, well, when we were on the first world tour we had a lot of bonfires and shit but I was pretty drunk at all of them so there could have been s’mores there, there could not have been. I dunno.”

“Anyway,” Nikki swooped in, averting the attention away from her eldest son’s anecdotes of underage drinking. “Minho, why don’t you go grab a few kits from the bar Ji mentioned? I think your father and I would like to try a s’more too.”

“How many do you think we need?” Minho asked.

“It depends on how many each serves. Why don’t we start with two and if we run out of supplies we can send Felix up to get more.”

Felix made a face. “What, me?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to send Minho up twice,” Dom explained.

“What about Jisung?”

“He cooked dinner.”

“I’ll be right back,” Minho interjected, cutting Felix off before he could protest any further. “Does anyone want anything to drink while I’m over there?”

He took everyone’s order and then disappeared in the direction of the bar.

“Do you think he’ll need help carrying stuff?” you whispered to Jisung after he left.

“Oh, shit, maybe.”

“Should I go help him? Would that be weird?”

Jisung looked back toward his parents to check that they weren’t paying attention before answering. “No, I don’t think so. No one suspected anything other than me. Do you want me to go with you, though?”

“No, you cooked,” you reminded him, “you should stay and relax. I’ll go help him.”

He nodded. “Okay. Oh, but kiss me before you go.”

Minho was still waiting when you joined him at the bar. It was almost as deserted as the rest of the pool area. Only a couple of people were occupying the stools and they seemed to be strangers to each other, drinking in silence apart from the waves crashing on the shore nearby and the occasional sound of the blender.

“Hey, stranger,” you said, grabbing Minho’s attention with an elbow to his side.

“Hey... did someone forget to ask for something?”

“No, I came to help you. We realized it’s a lot of stuff to carry all by yourself.”

He scoffed. “You doubted me?”

The bartender placed the drinks and s’mores kit down on the counter in front of Minho right at that moment, leaving both of you to size up all there was to bring back to the fire pit.

“You could have carried all that without spilling anything?”

“Fine, maybe it’s good that you came,” he grumbled.

“Maybe?”

He set his jaw and took a deep breath. “It is good that you came. Thank you for helping. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

You grabbed two of the drinks while Minho took the rest, holding the plastic bags of s’mores supplies between his teeth.

Nikki and Dom cheered when you reappeared with everything. The twins looked marginally happier. It was honestly as much as you could ask for from them.

You spent the rest of the evening teaching the Hans how to make, what was in your opinion, the perfect s’more. There were only a few skewers to go around so everyone had to take turns, but it was nice to be able to take your time with something and relax. There hadn’t been much time to do that on this trip. Jisung had warned you of that in the beginning but you were still way more exhausted than you expected to be at this point. At least it was almost over.

The thought of the trip ending was one that you had been pushing to the back of your mind for weeks now. Especially now that Jisung knew what had happened, you didn’t want to think about what would happen when you went back home. Would you grow apart? Would he distance himself once he was no longer in forced proximity with you? Would Minho break up with you? It wasn’t just something you could ignore now. There were only a matter of days left.

When it was over, you would go back to Seoul with the Hans until the summer ended officially. But that would be different too.

“You’re burning your marshmallow, love,” Nikki said softly, putting her hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“Oh!” you exclaimed and pulled your skewer out of the heat. You blew the flame out and transferred it onto a graham cracker.

“Do you want a new one?” Dom asked.

“No, that’s okay! I like them burnt, actually. I just didn’t mean to leave it in the fire for so long. It could have made a mess.”

Jisung’s dad shrugged as if to say ‘suit yourself’ before taking the rod from you and reloading it with fresh marshmallows.

If it was woodburning, the fire would slowly start to dwindle as the kindling turned to ash. Since it wasn’t, it was still burning as brightly as it had been at the start of the evening when Dom finally turned the propane off. Nikki collected the empty cups and dirty skewers to return to the bar.

“Good night, kids. Don’t stay up too late.”

Felix was the first out of the four of you to go up to his room, leaving you with your best friend and... Minho.

The pool area was completely empty by then.

“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you two,” Jisung said and stood to leave.

You grabbed his hand to stop him. “Wait, no, you don’t have to go.”

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, a little less convincingly. “You should stay.”

Jisung shook his head. “No thanks, I’d rather not third-wheel.”

“Ji-”

“Take as much time as you need,” he said to you. “Just don’t get fucking caught by anyone else.”

You waited for him to leave before slumping forward and sighing into your hands.

“I thought you said he forgave you,” Minho whispered.

“He did. That doesn’t mean he’s okay with it,” you sighed.

Minho leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the loveseat, inviting you to sit with him. You crossed over to his side and joined him, allowing yourself to lean into his side. He wrapped his arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. It felt nice, to do something so domestic with him, even while sitting in complete silence. Still, you worried about someone seeing you.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Just you.”

You didn’t want to give him the details and risk ruining the mood so you hoped he was content with that answer. Thankfully, he didn’t ask you to elaborate.

You shivered suddenly, unintentionally but thankfully changing the subject.

“Are you cold?” Minho asked.

“A little.”

“Should I turn the fire pit back on?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s so dark out now. It’ll only draw attention to us.”

“I don’t want you to be cold, though.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Minho didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t we get in the hot tub? You still have your bathing suit on, right?”

“Are we allowed to?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

You followed Minho over to one of the many hot tubs on the property. It was tucked away behind the now-deserted tiki bar and also totally empty. Minho turned on the jets and ventured down into the water, holding his hand out for you to get in behind him.

You let out a sigh as you sank into the bubbling water, closing your eyes and resting your head against the pool’s edge.

“Better?”

“So much better.”

You looked over to see him smile. “Good.”

You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you were warm. The chill had seeped through your bathing suit too. You could feel it ebbing out of the fabric as well as your muscles the longer you sat in the water.

Minho settled next to you and put his hand on your thigh. It was comforting even though his hand was still cold.

“This is nice,” he said.

“It is nice,” you agreed. “I like being able to do just nothing with you.”

“We don’t get a lot of time to do that, do we?”

“No, not really.”

“Guess that just means we have to enjoy it while we have it.”

You sat up to look at him, wondering if he meant something more than what was implied when he said that. He met your gaze and gave you a questioning look.

“What?” You shook your head and sank further into the bubbles. You were reading way too much into everything. You needed to get a grip.

“What’s wrong?” Minho repeated. “Talk to me.”

“I’m scared to,” you finally admitted.

It wasn’t much, but you were finally being honest with Minho instead of skirting around his questions like you usually did. You could tell your answer hurt him but you were afraid that you’d hurt yourself even more if you told him everything. You had a feeling the conversation was going there anyway, though, and there was little you could do to stop it.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I don’t know... what we are?” You cringed as you said it. “And I don’t want to ruin things by asking, you know, because I like what we have going on and I don’t want it to go away but I also don’t want to get my hopes up by thinking we’re something that we’re not but sometimes you do things that make me think you want something more than... whatever it is we’re already doing but- mph!”

You were cut off with a kiss, like something out of a movie. It was brief, but enough to disrupt your train of thought. You stared at him incredulously, trying to read his expression.

His face was even but his eyes were warm. You wished you knew what he was thinking. Moonlight and the flickering flames of torches in the distance were just enough to illuminate his features. The quirk of his cupid’s bow, the flutter of his long eyelashes...

“What was that for?” you inquired, even though you knew what it was for.

“You were spiraling.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t help it.”

“I know,” Minho said softly. “For what it’s worth though, I feel the same way.”

You lifted your head to look at him again, your vision slightly blurred by the water dripping down your face from your wet hands. “What?”

He hesitated. “I feel... what you said. I feel the same way.”

“I don’t even know what I said,” you laughed.

“Me either, but I got the general vibe of it and I’m in agreement.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I... I thought I was making it kind of obvious that I wanted something serious with you.”

“You never said anything outright, though!”

“Because I didn’t know what you wanted,” he explained. “You never said anything either.”

“Well, you’re the man!”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re going there? The feminism just evaporates from your body the moment you’re faced with confrontation?”

“See, you get it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you now, okay? I want you. In all the ways you’re willing to let me have you.”

You swallowed hard, eyes burning. You didn’t want to start crying and you didn’t want Minho to see you crying so you kissed him again, with more urgency this time. You couldn’t think, hell, you couldn’t breathe, until he pulled away, leaving you wishing and hoping for more.

When your lips met for the third time, he pulled you under with him, just long enough to shock your senses. You gasped for air when you surfaced, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes.

“You’re not supposed to do that!” you scolded, sputtering as you shoved him.

He stumbled backward onto the bench, falling seated again and pulling you on top of him.

“You believe that bullshit?” he scoffed.

“It’s not bullshit! It’s not good for you to put your head under the water in a hot tub!”

“I know people say that but why?”

“I... I don’t know why,” you admitted, “but I know you’re not supposed to.”

“See, you don’t even know!” You gave him a look. “Will you accept an ‘I’m sorry’ kiss?”

“That depends, are you actually sorry?”

He didn’t bother answering. Instead, he kissed you anyway, cradling the back of your head as he slipped his tongue past your lips. He tasted like s’mores and whiskey and chlorine, a combination so strange you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

One of his arms dropped to your waist, wrapping around your body and pulling you closer until your chests were pressed together. You could feel him through his swim trunks, growing harder by the second. You were tempted to take him right there, but you were in public and having sex in a hot tub couldn’t be good either, right? That sounded like an infection waiting to happen.

“Upstairs?” Minho asked breathlessly, lips only centimeters from yours. Not for the first time you wondered if he could read your mind.

You nodded. “Yeah, upstairs.”

You dripped your way back to his room, shivering despite the thick towel wrapped around your shoulders.

“Wanna hop in the shower?” Minho asked between kisses as he fumbled with the straps of your bikini.

“Yeah, don’t want to get your bed all wet,” you replied.

“That would happen whether or not we had just been in the pool,” he joked.

“Hilarious.”

“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he hissed. “Let’s get these off of you, they’re so cold.”

“Is that the only reason you want them off?”

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

You knew Minho was expecting to have sex in the shower but you kind of wanted to fuck on the bed so you sucked his dick while he washed your hair and then took turns rinsing off before moving to his bed. You put your hair up in a towel to avoid the aforementioned wetness and wrapped yourself up in one of the hotel’s robes even though you knew it’d be coming right off.

To your surprise, Minho left your robe on. He just undid the tie around your waist and let it fall open before shouldering himself between your legs. It was kind of like putting a towel down. He was killing two birds with one stone that way: protecting the sheets and keeping you warm.

It didn’t take long for you to cum in his mouth. Minho knew your body like the back of his hand by now. It had taken him a fraction of the time it took your past lovers to learn what made you tick and he used all of that knowledge to his advantage.

He kept going after you came the first time, eager to pull another from you, but you pulled him up by the hair to get his attention before he could get too into it.

“Too much?” he asked.

“Want you to fuck me,” you urged.

Thankfully, he was receptive to this and moved up so that he could position himself on top of you. He notched himself at your entrance and kissed you as he pushed himself inside, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before pulling away and wiping his face on your shoulder.

“Ew!” you cried and tried to push him away.

Minho looked offended. “What do you mean, ‘ew’? It’s you.”

“That doesn’t mean I want me all over what I’m wearing!”

“Since when?” he joked. “Seems like it’s always all over what you’re wearing when you’re around me.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” you begged, suddenly embarrassed and grossed out at the same time.

Minho laughed and pecked you on the cheek. “What would you rather talk about? The weather?”

You tightened around him as punishment, making him swear and bury his face in your neck. “Fucking hell, you succubus.”

You smiled politely and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Don’t people usually say that if she can talk at all, you’re doing it wrong?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I was just taking it easy on you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, this was for your benefit,” he continued. “Didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“How gracious of you.”

He clenched his jaw as he started fucking you faster, muttering sarcastically, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was boring you.”

Ironically, you couldn’t respond right away, too caught up in the feeling of how deep he was inside of you to get any words out.

“I forgive you,” you choked out finally.

Your hands fell to his biceps, desperate for something to hold on to. You dug your nails into his skin, making him hiss through his teeth.

“Harder,” he urged. You squeezed harder and he gasped. “Fuck yes, keep doing that.”

“Like this?”

“Just like that, baby. That’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series #stray kids x female reader

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i2sunric · 6 hours

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𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 (l.hs)

pairing: gamer!heeseung x reader (f)

summary: heeseung neglects you just to play his stupid game, so you try to relieve your frustration by humping his pillow— how you ended up riding his dick, you’re not sure.

warnings: smut. masturbating, pillow humping, riding, dirty talking, pet names (baby, slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap up your willy!), creampie, breeding kink, kinda cnc at the ending, if more Imk. NOT PROOFREAD

published: 25th April 2024

wc: 1.9k

tag list: @jaeyunsbimbo

a/n: guess who should be writing for the project but hasn’t even finished writing one scene? me! anyways, hope you’ll enjoy this gamer heeseung drabble and let me know your thoughts! REBLOG & LIKE PLS! maybe part 2?

When Heeseung and you first started hanging out, everyone started mistaking your friendship for dating. Or maybe, that was exactly what Heeseung wanted.

He was so possessive of you, always giving death stares to anyone who dared to land their eyes on your bare legs or exposed chest from your skirts and tops; spoiling you rotten, literally buying you anything you wanted without even having to ask.

But you were not less, getting jealous of anyone who approached him, even scaring girls away. You were as crazy as him.

It wasn’t something you two addressed verbally, just a mutual feeling. Perhaps it was attraction or something more, neither of you wanted to label it.

Something you would really love to verbalise, though, was the way Heeseung had been playing his stupid game for two straight hours without even glancing back at you from his chair.

You were sitting on his bed, legs crossed together as you absentmindedly scrolled through your socials— but even that had become boring. You sighed heavily and dropped your phone on the mattress, stretching your sore limbs.

“Hee?” You asked but was only met back with the sound of keyboard taps and a few shouts so loud you could hear them from the earphones your best friend was wearing.

“Heeseung.” You said again, this time a little louder, “Mh?” He asked, still not turning around to even glance at your face.

“Stop playing and spend some time with me.” You nagged, brows knitting in an annoyed frown “Just ten more minutes.” He murmured back.

“Now.” You crossed your arms at your chest “Come on Y/N, I’m almost done, damn.”

You waited for him to say something more, however he just resumed the battle, occasionally hissing but never shouting at the screen, knowing how much it bothered you.

Your eyes landed on his arms, bare from the sleeveless shirt he was wearing, the veins showing every time he taped a new button, hands so perfect as if they were shaped from a goddess.

You gulped, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together. It wasn’t the first time you had such weird fantasies about Heeseung, it was no lie he was drop dead gorgeous, though sometimes you wished he’d see you as more.

The way he treated you, the way he scared anyone who ever dared to breathe your same air— it just fuelled your filthy and contorted desires. However, when he played his games he always seemed to forget about you— which frustrated you a lot.

You palmed your breasts through the fabric of the loose shirt, your nipples hardening and poking, their outline showing. Your gaze fell on his clenched jaw, wondering if he’d have the same face while fucking you, filling you up with his load.

Impatient, you reached for his pillow, the one he usually put his head to sleep on, the thought turning you on even more and sat down on it, your clothed core stroking against it. You moved your hips back and forth at a sweet rhythm, letting out soft hums when your clit rubbing made you feel a warm feeling in your stomach.

You closed your eyes, imagined you were riding Heeseung’s face, his pointed nose poking your clit while his warm tongue fucked your cunt, burying himself deeper in between your thighs.

“Seriously?” Your actions were abruptly stopped by a deep groan, your eyes shot open and there Heeseung was, manspreading on the chair now turned around to face you, his gaze so dark and piercing.

“Acting like a fucking needy slut?” He chuckled bitterly, “You know my mic was on, right? Everyone heard you moaning.” He tsked mockingly.

Your hips kept moving, your head threw back “Just wanted your attention.” Your hoarse voice went straight to his cock, hardening against his grey sweats.

He glanced at you, his stare piercing. You looked straight out of his night fantasies, the way you were grinding on his pillow, your sweet scent intoxicating it. He removed his earphones and palmed his clothed hard on.

“Keep going.” He ordered and you complied, your mind too cloudy to leave space for shake. After all, that was what you both wanted the most “Show me how you’d ride my cock, baby.”

The pet name made your stomach fill with butterflies, you gripped the pillow and moved almost manically on it, the sound of the bed squeaking filling the room.

“Did you want everyone to hear you?” He asked, still palming his cock “Mh? Did you want all my friends to hear your moans?”

You shook your head “No,” You breathed out, slowing your movements “Only you.”

“Fuck,” He cursed, his cock twitching in his boxers “Raise your shirt, let me see your tits.”

You let out a soft hum and did as he asked, raising your shirt, hooking it under your chin to squeeze your breasts and show it to him “So perfect,” He almost dropped at the sight, “And so mine.” He growled.

“Heeseung—“ You panted, your eyes half lidded “Hee… m’so close.” Your movements were sloppy, signalling that your orgasm was about to hit you.

“Don’t cum,” He ordered, “Don’t fucking cum, stop.” and you stopped, your eyes red from your denied orgasm.

His eyes softened, your fucked up state was too much for him, your sweaty forhead and panting breath— Hell, he was going to ruin you.

“Come here.” He patted his laps and you nodded, getting up from the bed, stumbling a little as you reached him. You sat down on his laps, his big hands securing your waist.

“Isn’t this better?” He asked, making your body grind on his clothed bulge, your wetness seeping through the fabric “Fuck baby— you’re so wet.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes closing when his lips connected to your neck, leaving wet kisses “Do you want me to fuck you?” He whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed out “Yes Hee, please.” He smirked at your pleads and raised you up, just enough to pull down his sweats and boxers. His cock sprung free, red and so hard.

You widened your eyes, you had always known he’d be thick since the shadow of his bulge always appeared when he worked out or went to swim, but you had never imagined it’d be that huge.

“Like what you see, mh?” Heeseung smirked, his hand sneaking on the back of your head to fist your hair, making you look up at him “Answer me.”

Wetness pooled on your panties at his rough and dominant voice, you nodded “Yes.”

“Good girl,” He let go of your hair and helped you out of your own pants, leaving you only in your loose shirt and underwear.

His breath hitched, biting his bottom lip “You’re so perfect,” He raised your shirt, hooking it on itself so you wouldn’t have to keep it in your hand.

Heeseung inched closer and took your tit in his mouth, sucking and biting on your nipple. You breathed heavily, one hand caressing the little hair he had on the back of his neck, nails almost digging in it.

He detached from your breast and kissed his way up to your neck, licking and nibbling. He reached your lips and took them into a hungry kiss, so passionate. You moaned when you felt his fingers hook your panties to the side, the cold air of the room hitting your core, making it clench around nothing.

“So eager to be fucked dumb.” Heeseung growled, guiding you on his cock. You put your hands on his broad shoulders as you slowly went down, the mushroom tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds.

You hissed when the tip entered your pussy, stretching you so good. You were no virgin, but no guy you ever had sex with was as big as Heeseung,

He held your waist tightly, helping you until you were all down, bottoming out. He cursed under his breath, your warm cunt hugging his shaft so perfectly he could almost cum right there “Shit baby- you feel so good.”

He started guiding you up and down on his cock, not really leaving you any place to do what you wanted, using you as if you were a sex doll. And you honestly lived for it “H-Hee… S’good.”

His big hands wrapped around your waist and you hid your face on the crook of his neck, moaning out his name. You could smell the scent of his cologne, clouding any thought in your mind along with the pleasure he was giving you.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to fuck you.” He groaned, lifting your ass cheeks, gripping them so he’d leave his marks on you “To just claim you, fill you up with my cum, breed you.” Heeseung rumbled absentmindedly “You’d look so good with my cum dripping out of you.”

His dirty talking only made you clench around him more, the stretch almost painful but too good you begged him to go faster. And how could he say no to you? He grabbed your ass cheeks and held you in place while his hips jerked up, thrusting inside of you.

Soft hums and moans filled the room, you grasped his shoulders and dug your nails in his flesh, trying to steady yourself.

“Pussy made for me.” He rumbled, rutting inside of you at a fast pace “You’re so mine, right?— Fuck— You’ll let someone else fuck you like I do?”

In your blissful state you managed to shake your head “Only you Hee,” You moaned out “I want only you.”

Heeseung rewarded you with a spank on your ass, the mark of his fingertips red on the cheek “Say it again.”

You cried out in pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten “Mph— Just want you to fuck me.”

“Good fucking girl,” He groaned, rutting into you, hitting your cervix with every thrust “Heeseung.” You gasped, your nails leaving painful marks on his skin but he did not mind at all. In fact, he hoped you’d leave marks on all his back. “I know,” Heeseung said “Let’s cum together, just a little more.”

You let out a small sob, your eyes watery from the amount of pleasure you felt all at once, his cock made to thrust inside your pussy. His arms hugged you tightly against his chest, one hand squeezing your ass cheek “Fuck, Fuck,” He pated, his eyes squeezing.

“Gonna cum too baby- Gonna fill you up so good.” He let out a husky groan as his load shot inside of you, coating your walls as you came around his cock. It twitched inside of you, so much cum filling you up until you felt so full.

Heeseung loosened his grip a little, enough to let you move freely as you laid back a little, you both panting heavily, sticky with sweat.

Heeseung looked down at where your bodies connected, some cum dripping down from your pussy to his laps. You could feel him harden again inside of you which made your eyes widen. Was it even possible to get hard that quickly? Heeseung let out a deep chuckle.

He got up from the chair with you still in his arms and laid you down on your back on his bed. You watched him through confused eyes-

Heeseung dried the wetness under your eyes and whispered in your ear “Let me have you once more..”

“But—“ You shook your head, your body was tired and still shaken from the orgasm “I’ll be quick.” He rubbed his nose on your cheek, his figure hovering on yours.

“M’tired..” You murmured, your eyes closing. But Heeseung only let out another dark chuckle “You’ll take it, yeah?” He started pounding inside you, slow but deep

“You’ll take it like the good girl you are.” It wasn’t a question, but an order.

And you were too down for him to neglect him.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #lee heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #lee heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smuts #heeseung smuts #lee heeseung smuts

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ameliathornromance · 11 hours

Text

Your Orc tried to fool himself. You’d be back in a few weeks, there’s no point in dwelling on you. You’re not a stupid human woman by any means. And you’d been living with Orcs for the past few years, there’s no way you’re going down easily.

But that didn’t stop him from worrying. Your Orc would have gone with you, but due to it being a winter season, Orc hunts would have increased… And being caught travelling with a human woman would have put an even bigger target on his back than usual.

There was safety in numbers, so he had to stay with his camp.

He resolved to sit and wait by the entrance of his tent every morning and evening, watching Orcs leave and re-enter the camp with game and food. Your Orc hoped that you’d be in toe, following and chatting animatedly with other Orcs.

And every time, he was disappointed.

He neglected his duties in the camp, even after some encouragement from other Orcs around him… But when your Orc Boyfriend showed no intent to move, they started to worry for him.

The whole camp never realised how much of a detriment your separation would be to the Orc.

To distract your Orc Boyfriend, some of his closer Orcs cajoled him, “come on, let’s go hunting. The longer you sit there, the worse you’re going to feel. She’ll come back quicker if you busy yourself.” Said Kass – a hunting Orc.

“Yeah,” Crux agreed – another hunting Orc, Kass and him were never parted, even for a moment – “time always go by slowly if you’re waiting on it, c’mon!”

“I have to be here for when she gets back.” Your Orc huffed, crossing his arms.

The two rolled their eyes, “you haven’t done anything but sit there for weeks. Leaving the camp will be good for you, come on.”

After being poked and prodded by his two friends, your Orc begrudgingly agreed to go on a hunt with them.

Hunting was always harder in the winter. All the animals worth eating went into hibernation or hid simply because of how cold it was.

Luckily, your Orc and his others found prey rather easily. It felt good to blow off that anxious energy. Kass and Crux thought that your Orc Boyfriend had set a new record for catching wild animals in these icy conditions.

After a long day of trudging through snow, tying up the animals they had caught, your Orc and his friends returned back to the camp.

As they neared the camp, a familiar laugh pricked at your Orc Boyfriend’s ears. He stopped in his tracks, Kass and Crux stopping too.

“Is that…” Crux asked.

The laugh came again, louder this time.

And that was when your Orc knew. Dropping the dead carcasses, he took off into a run to the camp.

His friends shouted curses at him, but he didn’t care. His heart in his ears, blood thrumming through his veins, he charged through the camp and found you.

You stood in front of the clan Elders, handing them huge dried bundles of herbs, red nosed from the cold, but smiling. Alive and safe.

As much as your Orc wanted to sweep you into his arms, he couldn’t ignore the slight irritation that you had returned in his absence.

So, as quietly as he could, he crept up behind you. The Elders tried their best to ignore him as he got closer and closer. “The one time I leave camp,” he growled, bending down to the side of your head, “and you dare to come back so I can’t greet you!?”

Before you could turn to face your Orc Boyfriend, you were swept off your feet and pulled into a rib-cracking hug. Your Orc grinned as you let out a shout of surprise.

Throwing your arms around him, you squeezed him back. “I missed you so much!” You told him.

“He was miserable without you.” Your boyfriends company had come back into the camp, looking disgruntled. “I’ve never seen him looking like such a sad sap.” Kass snorted.

You rolled your eyes at them and kissed your Orc’s forehead, “aww, did you really miss me that much?”

Your Orc shot Crux and Kass a glare as they smirked, happy in their vengeance. But he grumbled, burying his head in your neck, “yeah.”

“Well I’m not going anywhere like that again.” You reassured. “That trip was a nightmare. And I’m sure the Elders have got enough of that herb to last a few years.”

Looking at the Elders, they nodded before turning back to return to their own tent. “C’mon, let’s catch up.” You said as your Orc put you down. “I want to tell you about the dragon who nearly ate me.”

“A dragon nearly did what?”

“Just kidding, I wanted to see your reaction.”

Your Orc rolled his eyes as you laughed and went off to your shared tent. Smiling, your Orc Boyfriend followed behind you, happy that you had returned, safe and sound.

#monster lover #orc fiction #monster romance #orc boyfriend #monster x human #monster x reader #monster x you #monster x female #orc x reader #orc romance #orc x human reader #orc x human #orc x #orc x female!reader #orc x reader fluff

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shark0zu · 1 day

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Guitarist! Fushiguro Megumi x GN! reader

context: Megumi is part of a band named “Joint Jinx Keystone” (JJK) alongside Satoru, Suguru and Yuji. Suguru is 22, Satoru is 21, and both Megumi and Yuji are 19. It took you a while to get inside the heart of this boy, but you managed.

content: Semi-Emo and Shy Gumi (best Gumi). CUDDLES!

warning: none. an: This Band! AU is made by sketchyysummer on Instagram! (link to their Tumblr). I made Satoru, Suguru and Yuji’s already (link to it below). It's Megumi’s turn now, and after this one, I’ll work on my Sukuna one… maybe… I don't know yet though (probably not whoops). Sorry in advance if this one lacks or is TOO slow burny..

Idol! Gojo Satoru HC Drummer! Geto Suguru HC Bassist! Itadori Yuji HC w/c: 1.4k

art: Summer's Band! AU Character Design

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Guitarist! Megumi, who wanted nothing to do with anything that related to love, relationships or trust for that matter. He didn’t see a reason to be in a relationship (outside of his band)- even more since he had the band to worry about.

Guitarist! Megumi, who meets you and immediately places you in the “friendzone” spot in his head. Not caring enough to put you anywhere else (for now). Kept to himself and didn’t bother with learning tiny details or anything under surface level about you. Guitarist! Megumi, who definitely was not expecting to see you everyday. You would visit him while he was practicing with his guitar. You would wait for him at cafes and even get to be friends with his friends (specially Yuji). Guitarist! Megumi, who now finds himself confused about his own feelings. He's never felt that way. Does he like someone? Do you like someone? Was that someone him? Is this just him trying to not feel lonely? He was confused, truly.

Guitarist! Megumi, who started to ask you to hang out with him instead of you appearing out of nowhere to see him. He definitely tries to play it off… “I need you to help me with some song ideas.” he tells you while looking away.

Guitarist! Megumi, who now is so obvious but no one says anything or brings it up. His friends wanting to know how far he can take his obliviousness. Mostly Satoru (and Yuji) bothering him about it in subtle ways.

Guitarist! Megumi, who definitely asks for advice on how to ask you out. He asked Satoru for help first and surprisingly, helps him. He does look up to Satoru a lot, so he took his advice. Satoru actually decided to help him, not making fun of him or bothering him while giving him advice (like a good father figure).

Guitarist! Megumi, who is grateful for Satoru, he always will be. He did help Megumi get better and find a good life playing in the band alongside him and the others. He does not show it but he is very grateful for the white-hair man’s help since they met.

Guitarist! Megumi, who gathers the courage to ask you out… it went… alright. It went great but he didn’t think so. He asked you to meet him in front of his apartment. You went- of course. He was pretty nervous, almost embarrassed. He saw you and smiled. He smiled. You almost stopped in your tracks from the shock of seeing his smile. Guitarist! Megumi, who finally speaks, “Hey, so…I’ve been confused with my feelings-” he was struggling to say the least. He sighs, “Alright. Do you want to go on a date with me?” Finally, he said it. This time, you smiled ear to ear. You were waiting so long for him to ask you out. He finally did it. You never asked him because you were not sure if he liked you back.

Guitarist! Megumi, who for you guys' first date, takes you to a restaurant close to the beach. Light breeze makes you shiver under the moonlight. After a few seconds you feel a leather jacket on your shoulders. You look back and see Megumi looking at you and his hands over your shoulders. The view was beautiful. You sit down to have dinner, chat and overall enjoy the time you were passing with him.

Guitarist! Megumi, who paid for dinner, refused to let you pay even half. He took you by the hand and left the restaurant. You both walked by the beach aimlessly until you found a little table with two chairs that was ‘conveniently’ just… there? He definitely planned this. You didn't bring it up, not wanting to embarrass him. Guitarist! Megumi, who was definitely smiling like a little boy when he saw you sitting on the chair staring at the horizon. He felt lost in your view. His mind went blank. When you felt his gaze on you, you turned your head and smiled at him. Safe to say he melted right there and then. Guitarist! Megumi, who couldn't be more happy to be there with you at that moment. After almost an hour of talking about various topics. He asks, “Do you… want to be my partner?” With that you were lost in his blue eyes. Trying to find the words took you a while but you were able to speak. “Of course, I would love to be your partner Gumi!” Uh-oh… nicknames already? Red. This man is so happy it hurts his face from smiling way more than he ever has. Guitarist! Megumi, who the next day saw his bandmates, was smiling like a little kid. Yuji was… scared. He has never seen Megumi so happy in his entire life. Nonetheless he asked Megumi what made him all happy. “I asked someone out yesterday…” he pauses to create some type of suspense. “And????” Yuji asks, almost desperate. “...and they said yes.” he said happily.

Guitarist! Megumi, who saw Yuji’s face turn from suspense to utter astonishment. By the looks of it, Satory and Suguru also overheard the conversation and the three men congratulated Megumi for his new relationship. They decided to commemorate this moment with dinner, which (of course) you were invited to. Guitarist! Megumi, who introduces you proudly as ‘his partner’. You smile and wave a ‘hello’ to his band mates. All three, Yuji, Suguru and Satoru were shocked Megumi was not lying (my poor boy, they never thought he would bag someone lol). They waved ‘hello’ back and welcomed you. Yuji hugged you, you hugged him back of course. Megumi didn't look so pleased but it was Yuji so he let it be.

Guitarist! Megumi, who after the dinner took you home, making sure you were safe. “Can I stay with you tonight…?” he softly asked. “Yeah, come in!” you said letting him in. You both took off your shoes at the door, hanging jackets on the hooks. “You wanna do something specific or…?” you asked, getting his attention. “You wanna watch a movie?” he said the first thing that came to mind. “Alright, what genre?” you said sitting on the couch in front of the TV and signaling him to sit beside you.

Guitarist! Megumi, who was definitely paying attention to the movie (he was, just not 100% of his attention). He sheepishly placed his arm over the headrest of the couch. You sat closer to him and placed your head on his chest while watching the movie. The movie was still going but you could feel his gaze on you, “Gumi?”, you catch him off guard. “Huh? Oh- sorry… was I staring too much?” he asks awkwardly. “No… just wanted to know if you were tired, cus I am.” a yawn escapes your mouth as soon as you finish that sentence.

Guitarist! Megumi, who nods and gets up from the couch, waiting for you to lead him to your room. You both arrive and you lend him some clothes that did not fit you anymore but thankfully fit him well. He changed in the bathroom, coming out when he was done to you already in bed under the covers. He slips under the covers, he does not know what to do. Still body, sleeping like a plank. You sigh and giggle, bringing him to your chest. Hugging him and snuggling closer.

Guitarist! Megumi, who freezes at the sudden contact but does not pull away, instead he wraps his arms around you and closes the distance even more. His head resting on your neck, light breathes tickling your soft skin. You can feel him smiling against you, which makes you smile in return. He starts some random conversation, so he could hear your voice. He ultimately ended up falling asleep to it.

Guitarist! Megumi, who after a whole year of being your partner, he still treats you the same (nothing was going to change). He takes you out on strolls, calls you to help him with his guitar, you guys go on dates- he loves you so much and you love him as much back. He wants to spend as much time as possible with you, and takes you everywhere. He does not show you off to people though, he likes his private life well- private.

Guitarist! Megumi, who definitely misses you when he goes out on tour. He will show he misses you by sending you voice messages, he is not really the type to call, he prefers to see your face in real life, not on a screen. Which you appreciate, even though you ask him to at least facetime once every blue moon.

#jujutsu kaisen #5sos #hc #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #anime #itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #fushiguro

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spicyclover · 3 days

Text

No one can hurt you

Summary : A dinner of revelation and tragedy.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

DISCLAIMER : Rewrite and final version of "All the things you said" | Netflix show: One Day at the Time | Elena’s Story part | Season 3, ep 2. WARNING: mention of physical and verbal aggression! Su*c*de WARNING !R@PE! WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE

DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts

If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.

The Monaco Grand Prix is in a few days and you will be slowly preparing for tonight’s dinner. Charles decided to organize a small evening for the pilots and their respective companions. It is in a magnificent hotel overlooking the sea that Charles booked the room and privatized the chef of the restaurant. The luxurious life of Monaco in its greatest fullness, you are always amazed by all the secrets that this small principality shelters.

You were third-wheeling your best friend Heidi to that party. She and Daniel invited you after running into you in the afternoon at the marina. Since you were little you know most of the pilots. So you are happy to have been invited to celebrate this new year of racing in Monaco with them. The evening was going well until the subject of the conversation crumbled into something darker.

“I gotta admit, I’m getting kind of confused.” Ends up saying, Checo rubbing his nose with his glass.

“Oh, my god, me too. What if someone says, “I am not sleeping with you tonight?” And then... an hour later, they’re like, “Eh, fine.” What’s that?” Ask Lando, completely confused.

“Unsurprising,” Pierre whispers under his breath, laughing. You laugh at with him, ignoring Lando's thunder.

“How many women have said, “Eh, fine”?” Questions Heidi sarcastically.

“Yeah, I got to make some calls.”

“Now I’m perplexed.” Says Max trying to make sense of everything he heard.

“I know. It’s confusing. I hate to admit it, but I feel sorry for men. This consent thing is tricky.” Kelly responded and gets up to pour herself more wine.

“No.” You exclaim annoyed by her comment. “Women always blame themselves, and then the man never has to take responsibility. During rape prevention week at the university, all the signs are aimed at women. “Girls, don’t dress provocatively. Girls, don’t walk alone.” How about, “Hey, guys, don’t rape.”" You look up at Pierre knowing perfectly it will trigger him.

“Oh, my god, why are we talking about that? I took a couple pictures as a joke, and Cece thought it was funny.” Pierre exclaims as he gets up from his chair to get himself another beer at the bar.

“Did she? Or did she feel like she had to laugh ‘cause she doesn’t know what else to do with your hand on her boob?” Everyone around the table falls silent and waits. You get up from your chair and walk you way to Pierre.

“Ok, sweetie, take it easy.” Adds Sebastian taking your arm and tries to calm the conversation.

“No. He thinks what he did is cute. You are basically a predator.” You accuse, pointing your finger at him.

“You’re basically a psycho.” Pierre replies, knowing full well it will trigger you.

“Good, call me crazy for defending a woman’s right not to be groped!”

“You’re mad ‘cause the internet told you to be. You don’t know my life or even leave this apartment!” Pierre screams as he approaches you.

“Because of guys like you!” You answer with the same intonation.

“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, taking your hand for you to sit down.

You and Charles are special. You’ve been like ass and shirt since childhood. You’ve known him since you were six. For as long as you can remember, Charles has always been one of your dearest childhood friends. You have shared so much together. No one has ever made you vibrate like he does. Usually his simple touch makes you calmer and reassuring. But you are no longer able to appreciate this contact that you cherish so much.

“You want to know?” You said, scoffing. “Okay. A couple of weeks ago, Heidi and I were coming home from the movies, and we were holding hands. And we noticed these guys staring at us, and then we changed the sidewalks , and they followed us.” You speak with tears in your eyes.

“What?” Sebastian says concerned in his voice. His turn your body to him.

“Yes. And they were going, “Come one, you guys, kiss. We really wanna see it. Just kiss.” They thought that was really funny, too.” You continue telling while drinking a sip of your glass.

“It was actually terrifying.” Ends up adding Heidi after Daniel stares at her intently.

“It was terrifying. And then we finally lost them in a crowd and ran home...” You finish in a huff trying to hold back your tears. Your hand hides your eyes and you try at best to find your calm.

Charles, in his divine goodness, hastens to extinguish you warmly. At first, his touch hurts you and you have only one desire to remove his hands from your dirty body. Yet you cling to him like a lifeline. Deep down, you know it's time. Time to tell what happened that night, a year ago. Nobody dares to speak at your revelation and everyone feels guilty for not knowing sooner.

“Umm... Last year after the Monaco Grand Prix. Lance Stroll raped me. He was my friend, and he raped me in my own bedroom. And then, he threatened me not to tell anyone... but. Why did he do this?” You ask breaking down in tears. “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what... I feel.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sebastian asks tenderly, approaching you rubbing his hand on your back.

“I tried, but... nobody listened to me.” You respond looking at Lando through your tears. Your eyes pierce Lando’s being. He doesn’t know where to put himself and his cheeks become red. He implores you to keep your mouth shut, but the situation no longer belongs to you. You feel the body of Charles being redeemed against yours and you notice that he followed your gaze.

“You knew.” He accuses Lando turning his attention abruptly towards him.

“I... I.” He tries to defend himself. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, you think she knew what to do either.” He yells, getting up from his chair and grabbing him by the collar.

“Charles, let him go!” Orders Carlos.

“You let her suffer silently when you knew what he did to her. I thought you were better than this. T’es qu’une grosse merde.” You’re a piece of shit

“Oh please, like you would have done something? We all know he’s untouchable and has done it before.” Admitted Lando, pushing Charles away.

“What?” Sebastian speaks up. This is the first time he has heard this from his former teammate. He never thought he would ever see Lance in this light.

“Nothing.”

“It’s nothing? He raped her, and now other girls too?” Charles advances again, preventing him from fleeing the situation.

“Don't play fouls, Charles. You were in his hotel room at the party in Abu Dhabi last year, and I quite remember your hands on some teenage girls, groping them.” He said suddenly, pushing Charles out of his way again.

“What?” You speak up, troubled by Lando's affirmation.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Charles turns to you, trying to explain himself. You get up from your chair and walk back as you see him approach.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, pushing him away. “Did you do it?”

“I... It’s not the same thing.” He justified himself.

“Yes. It actually is. Did you grope those teenage girls or worse raped them?” You ask scandalized. Charles, your best friend, your confidant, the one you most trust is capable of the same thing as the person who hurt you the most.

“Oui,” he admits in a small voice. “I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to? What the fuck, Charles. What's wrong with you all?” You yell, taking your stuff and leaving as fast as possible.

The thought of all this happening to so many more makes you sick. How could nobody speak up about this? You walk down the hotel hallway. You can hear footsteps and Charles's voice telling you to come back. When you get to the lobby, you ask for a taxi home. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you look at him as you push the door out.

You take your taxi and give him your address. All you want right now is a shower. A warm and reassuring shower. To pull away all those memories and thoughts. You want to scream to the world. You want to smash your entire apartment down. You want to stay in bed for the rest of your life. You want to jump off the roof. You want to cut yourself so that the pain stops. You want to be set free.

You arrive at the complex. Your dark thought runs in circles in your head. Like a robot, you open the door, press the elevator, and finally unlock your apartment. You let your essentials fall on the ground with your bag and coat. Like a machine, you take your shoes off and open the lights.

The sight of your home, which does not feel like home anymore. Since Lance pushes himself into you while you try to make him go away, this place hasn’t felt like home. You can’t even sleep in your own bed anymore. No matter how many times you clean the sheets, change the bed. This memory comes running back into your mind. Invade you like a parasite.

You go to the bathroom and open the valve to fill the bathtub. You watch the water. You can hear your phone blowing up with notifications and calls. “Why does this world have to be this cruel?” You think, taking your clothes off.

Your body envelops itself in the heat of the water, and you close your eyes. Your body slips in the bath. You head underwater. You hear focusing on your heart bit. You enjoy this moment of quietness and solitude.

That’s it. You feel alone since that night he took your joy, your life, yourself.

You can feel the water pressure you to gasp for air. Your head starts popping your blood. Your heart rises to find oxygen. You struggle. You have been struggling this long. You want to go, and you want to let go.

You let the water go in, and suddenly, all the scary parts disappear. The explosion in your head fades away, and you’re not scared anymore. You find it relatively peaceful. Very peaceful.

Strangely, you’re dreaming. Him with you. On a boat. Feeling the breeze in your hair. The warm sun on your skin. His light touches on your thigh. His breath on your neck. His lips are on your breast. You’re daydreaming. Are you? Is your mind trying to ease the pain in your heart? Is it even the day?

Then. You open your eyes. You try to scream, but your head is under the water. You feel weak but strong. Sick but healthy. Chaos but at peace. You can feel your body wiggling, but your mind is different. No one can hurt you now. Quietly, your eyelids become heavy again, and what a moment ago hurt you the most now makes you feel good.

The water fills your lungs, and you sink more and more into the darkness. Nobody seems to pull you up. The seconds pass, but you no longer find the courage to go out. The bathtub disappears, and you find yourself in the sea. In a warm and welcoming sea; The Mediterranean. An infinity of blue. An infinity of sweetness. The noises are only deaf sounds, and you feel your brain more and more calm. The sun’s rays pass through the water, and you move further and further away from it. Your eyelids become more and more stretched.

Then you see beautiful blue eyes through the water. No fair. You can’t reach them but can’t stop staring at those ocean-blue eyes. Suddenly, you feel scared. Scared to leave those ocean eyes. You’re afraid, and you’re drowning under the waves of words you haven’t said to them, to you.

You try to fight back this peaceful state, but darkness is an easier path than light. Suddenly the silence suffocates you, and you miss the sound surrounding you.

Then comes the darkness.

When you leave the apartment, Sebastian watches Charles running after you. He can’t believe what has happened. He doesn’t want to consider it. How could he? He sees and goes to the door, and Charles is defeated on the ground. He passes by without a look and walk his way to the lobby.

You have always been a fragile child. Even when you were a child. You were always this little fragile and precious porcelain doll. You’ve never been afraid of anything growing up. Sebastian always loved to see you grow up with him. Despite your age difference, he always considered you his little sister. The little one who needs to be protected from everything and at any cost. Knowing that you are suffering so much hurts him.

In the hallway, the walk seems long and endless, his thoughts wandering toward your shared memories. He remembers many summers spent in the countryside. At your grandparents' meadow, there was a vast field with a few horses grazing on the fresh grass. He remembers that beautiful-eyed little girl running in his direction.

You had dirt all over your clothes. Your hair was braided, and he still remembers the grass sticking in it. He remembers your laughter, which lit up the prairie thousands of miles away. Hearing you laugh has always been his favourite thing about you. Lost, it’s only when the doors block his way out that he remembers he has to go looking for you. He runs through the night towards your apartment.

Charles is devastated. Everything he tried to build with you has just broken in a moment. He feels lonely and ashamed. He wants you to know how much he loves you. How much you mean to him. How much you have become the center of his universe.

Before you, there was racing, and that was it. When you became something more his life change. It was as if you had lit the dormant fire in him. You have extinguished the flame since the death of his best companion, his father. You have given meaning to this quest. The stakes are not won but won for you.

He still remembers the first time he took you to his garage. You were with Sebastian. He was showing you around the Ferrari factory, showing you the different facilities, different parts. You were so captivated by his words, and your eyes were shining like stars in the sky.

He remembers the moment when your eyes landed on him. The smile you had, and the dress you wore and the clip in your hair. He counts you. Unable to say anything. Captivated by your beauty.

“Hi, Charlie.” You said in your beautiful voice.

He stuttered and blushed heavily. You laughed gently before putting your lips on each of his cheeks. He likes a kiss, and no, he likes your kisses.

A hand falls on his shoulder, and he sees Pierre. Tears in his eyes prevent him from distinguishing himself perfectly, but he recognizes his friend.

“Don’t worry. She’ll come back.” He says softly. Taking him by the shoulders to lift him up and bring him back to the room.

The others are still there. Confused and shaken, no one speaks. Silence reigns in the room, and no one knows what to say. Charles opens the patio door and leaves the fresh night air in the room. The city slowly began to calm down, and he heard the waves regularly hitting the harbour.

Daniel gets up and gets rid of the table. Putting this party away may make us forget the events that occurred. Heidi and Kelly help him while the others put orders in the room. No one dares to go to see Charles.

The hour passes quickly, and some decide to leave. They quickly greet the last remaining. Pierre observes his friend, who has not moved, and still looks at the sea.

It’s only when Charles' phone starts ringing that he looks away. He calmly enters the room and answers.

“Hello?”

You always liked the fields. You always loved hiding in the big wheat fields surrounding your grandparents' house when you were little. This stretch of yellow was as far as the eye could see. You liked feeling the stems between your fingers, the seeds melting to your touch, and the particular smell of wheat.

You remember a hot summer day. Lying on a tablecloth after a picnic, nature calms by this overwhelming heat, especially the calm of this yellow and green nature. You remember the farmer who held the farm. You spent days watching him working. Helping him through the mould. Watching him turn wheat powder into cereal. You remember this great man, always with a grain of wheat in his mouth that was constantly chewing.

You remember the hum that bees made at work. From wheat to wheat, pollen is harvested. You remember the nests in the hives that you created one summer. Your grandfather, with his jumpsuit, would go every morning and inspect the nests, and you loved watching him do it. You also loved to taste honey with each harvest. Honey is good. It’s sweet. It’s sweet. It’s wild.

You remember Sebastian. His blond hair, his smile, the sound of his kart engine. Many hours passed in his company at the track with his dad. You remember your big brother, following him and Sebastian all day long, like the annoying little sister you were. You remember falling from a tree after the boys thought it was a great idea to climb it. You see your brother jumping down the tree to get to you and hear Sebastian running back to the house to get help. You spent the night at the hospital. You broke your arms that summer, and you had a commotion. Your parents were furious and punished your brother for the rest of the vacation.

You remember your first winter in the mountains. Mornings skiing, and afternoons making snowmen, eating maple syrup, drinking hot chocolate, just playing in the snow. See your happy brother’s face after he managed to get the last pancake.

You remember Sebastian’s victories. To see him move up from category to category. You remember his encounter with Hanna. You love Hanna. She is so sweet and kind. You remember your great jealousy towards her from the height of your twelve years. She who steals your Sebastian. She who steals your second brother. Oh yes, you were jealous, but she knew how to win your heart, and after all, she stayed.

You remember the Ferrari years. Everyone was in red. You saw the world with red glasses. Red like love. Red like anger. Red as the colour. Red as blood. It’s kind of at this time, when adolescence really starts that you start to change. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, you were no longer the wise little girl your parents admired and your brother despised. No, you grew up making mistakes, a lot of mistakes, until you met him.

Him. The golden boy. The one destined to be great.

You remember his perfume, his smell, his laughter, his mimics, his way of speaking, his way of being and his way of simply being. He intimidated you so much; this guy was destined for something big. Whereas you, we never expected much from you besides being pretty, lovely, not disturbing, quiet, and reserved.

Quiet.

Reserved.

Pretty.

In those words, your brain falls into the dark side of your life. The darkened side of time. Painful and unhappy memories. The memories of him, the one who once was your best friend. He who once was your confidant. He who once saw fit to r*pe you.

To find you after the Grand Prix, in your apartment, in your house, in your home. To be a little too drunk, surely. To hold you firmly. To put his lips on yours. To hold your wrists. To put all his weight on your body. To force you into bed. To beg him to stop. To cry in silence. To feel it in you. To feel dirty. To feel unloved.

To feel alone, so lonely, too lonely.

To find yourself curled up in a ball in a corner. To wait until morning for him to leave. To want to end your life. To end your nights. To seek help. To be abandoned. To be alone. To be dirty. To be silent. To be reserved. To be pretty.

To be pretty.

To be.

Silent is all you ask for.

It’s been a long night. The hours have been staggering. The noises of monitors, nurses, doctors, and ambulances invade their ears. No one speaks, and no one dares speak. It is as if a white veil covers the weighing atmosphere and borrows all those present.

The wait is long, too long. They wait patiently for the outcome of this atrocious night, something that does not happen. Sebastian holds his head in his hands, tears have finished flowing, but his eyes are still red. He feels bad. He feels immense guilt. This mixture of shame, sadness, contempt and anger is eating him increasingly as the hours pass and pass before his eyes. He blames himself for not coming sooner. He blames himself for not holding you back. He blames himself for not seeing. He blames himself.

Full of life and ardour, this little girl was smothered under this icy water. Frozen in time. Only the repetitive sound of drops escaping from the pipe disrupted this freezing scene. She hides all her problems behind her smile. Never in his life has he thought of having this vision of you. This pure horror vision of an act yet so courageous. Because it takes courage to think about yourself before thinking about others. It takes courage to put yourself forward and not others. It takes courage to achieve what others have likely failed to achieve.

The roar of the machines stifled Charles. He closed his ears in the hope of silencing them. To see you with your tubes hanging around you, in you. On this hospital bed, this white bed, this room that feels the end. Eyes wet, Charles looks at your pale, serene face. The doctor’s words are dry and not encouraging. Your parents arrive a few hours later, a flight later. They cry. Your brother has tears in his eyes. Sebastian collapses in a corner. Hanna is there; a veil of sadness covers his eyes. Heidi cries in the arms of Daniel, who looks again in the eyes of Charles. Charles holds your hand, your hand. Your hands are cold, frozen by the consequences. Lando doesn’t dare to come in. He feels guilty because he refused to believe you, to reach out to you, see you, and see your distress. He preferred to become blind rather than awake. It haunts him.

Charles, sitting next to you, is watching people walk by. To say goodbye to you, goodbye, forever. He doesn’t want to. He can’t. You’re still breathing. Your heart is still beating. So why do you have to leave? Why did you choose to go?

“Why?” He mumbles one more time, his head against your ear. “Why are you not fighting?”

“Cha... we have to go.”

“No... I-I-I can’t. I can’t leave her.” His voice breaks in a sob.

“Charles,” Pierre says, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. “Let her go.”

“No...” Charles pushes him away, gripping your hand tighter. “She’s going to survive. She’s going to live. She has to live. You have to live.” He prays, kissing your cold skin.

Pierre sight and get out of the room. His family, her family, his friends, and her friends are here waiting for him. The visiting hours are almost over. Everyone wants to go back to their house and sleep a bit. They haven’t slept all night. Charles hasn’t slept all night. Pascale enters the room quietly. Staring at his son.

“Charles. We need to let her rest. Will come back in the morning, d’accord mon bébé?” She says, taking him in her arm.

He acquires at her request despite himself. Unable to fight anymore, fatigue slowly eats him away, and he knows that he is of no help if he is exhausted. He leaves the room not without a last kiss, a last look, a last goodbye.

On the following day, Charles came. Staying for hours next to you. Stroking your hair, mumbling your name, praying for you to wake up. He can't take you out of his brain. He can't take you out of him. You're haunting him. We realize how important it is in our life when we lose someone we take for granted. Charles looks at you as a friend until he realizes he loves you. Is it too late? Were you supposed to be?

Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.

The doctors are not really optimistic about your recovery. Your body is tired. Your mind is exhausted. They did all they could do. All we have to do is wait. Wait for you to come back. Wait for you to fight for your life. How could you fight if you're not even awake? It's painful.

Strangely enough, he came. The rapist. The abomination of your life. You came late at night when everyone left. He felt bad. "It's too late to feel bad," you think when you feel his hand and you. You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing. He left shortly after. Looking at you one last time. Looking at what he did to you. You hear from Lando a few days later that he got arrested. Other girls spoke, and there were enough accusations to start a trial. Even more strange, it did nothing to you. Well, how could you feel? When he toked everything you got and smashed it in a million pieces?

Sometimes, you can feel the warmth of the afterlife tingling your skin. You feel it right near you, calling you. Calling you to answer the call. You want to feel this feeling of peace, this quietness. You don't know how to feel. You just want to float. You forgot how to be happy. How to be. Why fight if you may never find yourself again? What were you made for? You wonder to yourself.

Time flies. A couple of weeks passed. You made some improvements for the doctors to feel optimistic for you to wake up eventually. You're stabilized by all those machines. Your parent finally arrived a few days after you were admitted. You can feel your mother's tears on your cold hands and the soft kisses of your father on your forehead. You can smell the sunflower Heidi brought you every time she comes to see you. Sometimes you want to react. To show her you listen. But you can't. Or you don't want?

The feeling of loneliness passed. You can see now how much you're loved. How they love you. You love to hear Arthur talking about your favourite series. You love to hear Sebastian remembering childhood moments whenever he found the courage to come. You love to listen to your mom singing your favourite songs. You love to hear Daniel telling dad jokes, hoping you'll smile in your sleep. You love hearing Lando talking about his latest Quadrant adventures or Twitch lives. You love to listen to Charles saying how much he loves you. How much his life is plain without you. You can't imagine somebody else cared so much about you.

That makes you cry. You can't show them you can hear. You can't show them you love them too. You can't show them how grateful you are or will be. More time passed, and the more you could slowly feel you were losing yourself. All you need to do is happen your eyes, but for some reason, it seems an impossible task to do.

"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.

"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?

"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."

"Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."

You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.

"One, you will get a major in architecture."

"Two, you can drive an F1 car."

"Three, you can be happy again."

"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."

"Six, I will fight for my life."

At this, though, he feels darkness rising upon you. Everything fades away slowly. You can hear the constant beep of the machines around you. You can feel Charles's hands against yours. You can smell the hospital room you're in. You can see the light shutters again you close your eyes.

Then... you breathe.

Feeling the grass on your feet. The autumn breeze cools down your spine. For the first time, you appreciate being alive. To fill your lungs with air, to hear the water crash against the rocks, to feel the sun warm up your skin, and to taste food again.

You feel a hand around your waist, and Charles brings you closer to him. He sticks you to his bare chest. He holds you firmly for fear that you will disappear again. It makes you smile to see him so loving, so gentle, and so attentive. You turn your gaze from the blue horizon to meet his emerald eyes. He smiles tenderly. His eyes sparkle with a thousand lights when you return his smile. You hold these eyes a few moments before you look wandering towards his lips.

If only it could be true.

If only you could be with him.

______________________________________________________________

Hi! Hope you enjoy this final version of the story. It took me sometimes to get back to writing but I'm getting there. I know some of you really like it and it's fill my heart with joy <3

Tag List : tyna-19 dessxoxsworld ynbutbetter alexander-hamilhoe honethatty12 janeholt3 mloyer karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg laura-naruto-fan1998

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #charles #charles leclerc sad #charles leclerc x you

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wolfstarlibrarian · 20 hours

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Hiii, I am searching for a fic I read before, but I can't find it.

It was on ao3 and was a wolfstar fic, where Soulmates have marks on their body from where their soulmates have been harmed. It also shows spell and in the fic this was how Remus found out that Sirius was harmed by his family. I think physical harm was shown in golden on the other persons body. The fic was in Hogwarts and the marauders were probably teenagers.

I would really like to reread the fic, so it would be great if youd find it :)

Hello friend! This one is proving difficult to find, so hopefully another helpful fan will help us find this fic in particular. However, the Librarian has some soulmate fics to help you fill the void in the meantime. An old list and some new additions all on soulmates.

Wolfstar Soulmates 1

Wolfstar Soulmates 2

Shackle Me by @elixirsoflife (includes feeling soulmate's pain) Soulmates aren't nearly as romantic as you think they are. Sirius knows.

nobody loves me (like you do) by @iamsiriuslyriddikulus Everybody has a TiMER on their wrist which counts down to the moment they meet their soulmate. When Remus's goes black at 16, he knows it must mean his soulmate died. Cue Sirius Black, entering his life like a whirlwind. It's just too bad that he has a TiMER.

As the Moon Knows the Stars by @mcdynamite On the day Sirius Black turned seventeen, he had his soulmark removed in order to protect the soulmate he'd never met from the wrath of his own family. In the eight years since, he's managed to make his peace with living the rest of his life without falling in love. Though he mourns his lost soulmate every day, he's confident he made the right choice to protect them, and no one has ever made him question that. Until, of course, Lily Evans brings her childhood friend along for a pub night, and Sirius finds himself utterly enamored with the kind, mysterious stranger. But Remus Lupin surely has a soulmate of his own waiting out there somewhere, and Sirius won't let himself get in the way of that. He just wishes Remus weren't so damn easy to love.

Museum of Flight by Obsessive_RS Sirius watches him ceaselessly, the motion of his long fingers visible in the silver moonlight coming through the staircase’s window. “You’re the best mate a bloke can ask for.” Sirius says, but something about it seems wrong and insincere, like an unfinished statement hanging in the air, waiting to be grabbed and fulfilled. A soulmate AU in which Sirius doesn't get his mark when he's supposed to, and neither does Remus. (Modern AU.)

I found you by @de-sire-blog On a sunny, absolutely ordinary Tuesday morning, after twenty-six years of longing, yearning, searching, Sirius Black finally finds his soulmate. He’s not a fair maiden in need of saving, he’s not a prince on a white horse. He is just a werewolf with a Welsh accent and a little too much self-loathing for Sirius’ liking. Regardless, he’s not disappointed.

Soulmates by @rpenthusiast In which Sirius Black is a Squib, yet still manages to be best friends with three wizards and the soulmate of a werewolf.

If you know of a soulmate fic where they feel each other's pain, please send it in!

#every time I go looking for fics I find 5 more to read #remus x sirius #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #mwpp #marauders era #hp fic recs #dead gay wizards #soulmates

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sinning5sos · 3 days

Text

valentine | Luke

Requested: yeah baby! could you write a smut abt dom!luke and fem!reader, where they’ve been best friends for years and have had just the thickest romantic and sexual tension, and luke brings y/n on tour and while she’s front row dancing and just like feeling herself to valentine, luke finds it like super hot and after the show he finally does something about the tension between the two of them. i love your work and i think you’d be the perfect person to write this!”

tysm, i love you

fucking sick idea

Word Count: ~2.2k

The music was pulsing through the arena, your eyes never leaving the lead singer, your best friend and you were so proud of him. You couldn’t believe that they were on another tour, and thankfully your schedule at work allowed you to travel with them for a few shows in the states.

You loved getting to see Luke do what he does, the fact that you’ve known him since you were kids and have gotten to see him grow into the confident man that he is, it made you ecstatic.

You’ve been a part of Luke’s life for a long time, you loved him dearly. The two of you became mates way back when you were just in your first year of school. The two of you had been stuck together since then, often spending time with the other. It was insane when Luke had started getting views on his covers, and even crazier when the band formed and started getting famous.

When the band moved to the states, you couldn’t imagine not having him only five minutes away but Luke practically begged you to follow along. Luckily, you found a job nearby and your schedule was flexible for the most part.

Honestly you didn’t even know how many times you had seen them perform at this point, but you knew that it just continued to get better every single time.

His eyes found yours as they continued performing Valentine, one of your favorites from them. Luke’s vocals always killed, and tonight he was on fire again. You sang along, a small smile on his lips as he maintained eye contact.

“Got nothing but love for you, fall more in love every day. Valentine, valentine.”

You zoned out as you continued dancing along, your hips moving gently to the beat as the song continued on. You felt a gaze on you, and looked up as Luke sang, it felt as if directly to you, his eyes burning into yours.

“It don't matter just as long as I get all you tonight”

You blushed as the song continued, and he sent you a cheeky wink as the crowd continued chanting along. Luke’s gaze moved away from you, and you lost yourself in thought.

It could've been unintentional. It could’ve just been Luke being himself, a little flirt. It could’ve been something more. You were never sure with Luke, you never wanted to push the friendship past what it is.

The others always pointed out that the two of you flirted with each other, your other friend pointed out that it was annoyingly adorable how much the two of you looked at each other or how handsy the two of you were. Sure, there were drunken kisses or cuddling during movies or the occasional shared bed. You always knew you loved Luke, you just didn’t know what sort of love.

The concert wrapped up quickly, your thoughts swimming due to that tiny wink from him earlier. You were already backstage, in his dressing room and sat on the couch waiting for him to finish up. He always had his post show ritual, where as soon as he was off that stage, he was taking a shower and finding a way for his body to relax.

After a few minutes, the door finally opened and Luke pushed through the entryway. He immediately smiled as he dove onto the couch beside you. You curled right into his side, his arm wrapping around you instinctively. His fingers grazing the exposed skin on your shoulder. You sighed, feeling content as you leaned even further into him.

“How was the show?”

“Amazing as always Lu,” You said, turning in his arms so your head was now laying in his lap. He shifted his arm so it was across your chest and he held your gaze.

“It’s one thing to know that you’re always there in the audience but it was another to see you that close tonight. Dancing along to the music, you looked beautiful.” He murmured, and you felt your cheeks blush.

“I’m serious, I don’t say it enough.” He whispered and your blush deepened, “I don’t say a lot of things enough. God, you looked fucking incredible tonight.”

“Luke,” You sat up and turned to face him, about to say something but he pulled you close to him. He moved closer to you, his movements hesitant as his nose nudged against yours. You didn’t stop him.

“I need you,” He murmured against your skin, his lips barely leaving as he trailed down your neck and you whimpered into the empty dressing room, “Now.”

You nodded, your arms wrapping around him as you pulled him closer into you.

“I’m in, but I need to know that this won’t change us.”

“It’s going to change us, but for the better. Seeing you in the front, seeing you dance along to our music, it made me realize what I’ve always known all along. Why I begged you to move with us, why I need you with me on the tour.”

“I just need you,” He whispered, his lips finally meeting yours and he nearly melted into you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him as close to you as possible and all thoughts were gone as the two of you continued kissing. This wasn’t the same type of kiss as before, there was something deeper there.

“Say yes,” He murmured, his nose nudging yours and you nodded, “Out loud. I can’t move on with myself if you’re not as into this as I am.”

“God, yes Luke, of course.” You whispered to him, and his lips met yours again. His kiss became more desperate, and his hands moved to the straps on your shirt and pushed them down. You leaned your body into him, quickly removing the top and suddenly feeling exposed beneath him.

“Fuck,” He breathed out, and you laughed at him as your fingers continued twirling in his hair.

“You’ve seen me in a swimsuit before Lu,”

“Yeah but this is different. I get to finally act on every thought I’ve ever had,” He muttered, pulling his own shirt off as well. You unclasped your bra and pulled him back into you, your hands rubbing his shoulders and across his back as he trailed kisses down your chest. His teeth grazed over your nipple and you gasped quietly. This all felt so surreal, but damn it did he feel great.

He pushed your skirt up with his free hand, grazing your center slightly and your hips jolted into his touch.

“So eager for you,” You whispered and he chuckled as he pulled your panties down and tossed them behind the couch.

“Can I touch you?”

“Lu, I am entirely yours. Stop asking me, and just touch me.”

“Yes ma’am,” He murmured and you giggled as he kissed the inside of your knee and slowly trailed upward to your inner thigh, then to your exposed pussy. He kissed just above your core, his touch so light and you were craving more.

“Luke, just fuck me please.” You whimpered, and he paused to look at you. He licked his lips and nodded, before pushing himself down on the couch to adjust to a more comfortable position.

“I will, just need to taste you first.” He muttered, and you were worried that he was going to be hesitant again but quickly started eating you out as if you were his last meal. He groaned as he pulled back for a second, before his tongue circled around your clit and your thighs twitched at how fucking good he felt.

His tongue dipped inside of you, his nose nudging your clit as he continued eating you out. He pushed a finger inside of you and you threw your head back against the arm rest at finally feeling him. He pushed in another, and you felt yourself adjust to his touch as his tongue continued.

“Fuck,” You breathed out and he winked at you again as he continued to eat you out and finger fuck you. Only an hour ago he was winking at you as well, and now look at how much things have changed.

“Gonna cum soon,” You moaned, and he added a third finger. At this point, you didn’t need to be warmed up anymore, and your orgasm was quickly approaching. Between everything that’s happened, you felt your thighs began to shake and you quickly came all over his face.

You whimpered as he continued licking, nearly slurping and relaxed when he finally backed up. He sat up and made a big show of wiping his arm across his face and chuckled.

“Taste fucking sweet there darling,” He muttered and you giggled as you leaned up to kiss him, “But now I want to fuck you.”

“I want you bent over this counter so you can see how fucking hot you look while I’m fucking you,” He muttered, and your eyes widened at the sudden change. You licked your lips and nodded, taking his hand as he helped you up off the couch and pulled you towards the counter.

“Just like that,” He whispered as he guided you, and helped bend you over the counter and pushed your dress up as his fingers pushed into you again. You moaned loudly, your body adjusting quickly to him. He felt so right, and you moaned again as he curled his fingers inside of you.

“Need your cock Lu,” You grunted, and he chuckled as he pulled his hand out of you and sucked on his fingers again.

“Taste so fucking good.” He said, before pulling his cock out from his pants but he panicked for a second, your eyes on him in the mirror, “Condom?”

“I’ve had my birth control shot, and I’m clean.” You whispered, and his eyes widened as he caught your gaze. You nodded, as if to encourage him and he groaned as his palms rubbed over your hips.

“Fucking dream. I’m clean too, but I’ll do my best to pull out too.” He muttered, and you smiled as he stroked himself gently. He pushed in the tip, and you pushed yourself back to take more of him. He moaned quietly, his head falling back in pleasure as he was nearly fully inside of you, “You feel so good,”

“Just fuck me,” You whimpered, and he slowly pulled back out before he pushed inside of you fully. You could feel all of him inside you know, your body adjusting to him quickly and you desperately needed some friction.

His hands moved so they were gripping both sides of your hips, and you hoped that his fingers left marks for you to admire later. He started fucking you with more of an intensity now, his cock slamming into you with every thrust and the fact that you got to watch everything in the mirror was so fucking hot.

“Look at me,” He snapped, his fingers digging into your sides as you caught his gaze in the mirror, “Such a good fucking girl.”

For a moment, the only sounds that echoed in the dressing room were his hips meeting yours and his quiet moans from behind you. You held onto the counter as you felt your legs growing weak and put your weight onto the top. Luke continued fucking you, and you felt your orgasm approach quickly.

“Gonna cum for me?” He murmured, his hand reaching around to your clit and his middle and ring finger started to rub it in circles.

You nodded, words failing you as you pushed your back against his chest, your gazes locked on each other as he continued to finger your clit and thrust into you. Your orgasm crashed over you, and he moaned as he continued fucking you through the wave of pleasure.

You nearly collapsed into his arms, and he helped you move slightly. You knelt in front of him, your hand replacing his as you started to stroke.

“Now are you going to cum for me?” You whispered, winking up at him and he chuckled as he nodded. Luke gripped onto the counter behind you as you continued stroking him, and his cock twitched slightly before he came, doing his best to aim for your mouth but spilling down the front of your chest.

His eyes closed for a moment, his relief washing over his face as his legs buckled and you smiled up at him. You brought your fingers down to your chest and dragged some of his cum up into your mouth and he rolled his eyes as he handed you a tissue and helped clean you up.

“Come on baby, come sit on the couch with me.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead then helped you up to your feet and guided you over to the couch.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You whispered, your arm lazily coming to wrap around him and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“The wait was worth it,”

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dlysthings · 20 hours

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Little crush pt.6

-> Previous part <-

A/N: Im so sorry for how much time it took me to write this part, but these past 2 weeks i was sick and ha a lot of sterss at school so i apologise. This is not proofread and english is not my native language so i apologise for any mistakes.

At the woods Daryl was finally at piece, the only place that could give him this scarce pleasure. The sound of the running water around him never filed at calming him down. The creek on which’s side he was sitting on was his little sanctuary, hidden deep into the forest around your town. The sounds were slowly starting to put his mind at ease. He needed that, craved it. After the pain he felt at lunch he needed to take his mind of that, forget a bit about it so he can face it later. It wasn’t the best strategy but it worked for him. If pushing it down until it all became too much to handle and lashed out on the nearest person to him. The only thing he worried about was this person to not be you. Even after hurting him you didn’t deserve his harsh words. He would never hurt you, ever.

But even his own little heaven on earth couldn’t make him stop thinking of today. Why did you not come? At the end it was your idea, so maybe you actually liked spending time with him. Or at least that was what he thought. Maybe one of your friend heard about it and reminded you of the trash he actually was and then you decided to just don’t show up. It should be this. You didn’t want your friends to see you sitting with the “weirdo redneck” the whole school knew him as. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he? At the end of the day he needed to remember who he was.

Still this didn’t stop him from feeling hurt and let down by you. The excitement he felt when he bought the piece of cheesecake, hoping it will bring a smile to your face, was almost overwhelming. His heart was beating like a jackhammer inside his chest. While he waited for you to come and sit, he was thinking how to ask you out. Of course he couldn’t be smooth like the popular guys and straight up ask you. He was thinking that maybe going into the woods and showing you his favorite spots with the reason that was for your upcoming biology quiz. At your house you seemed interested at the subject so he thought this was perfect. And maybe if he was brave enough he could ask you out on a real date. Buy you dinner and walk you to your house. Maybe you would have given him another kiss on the cheek.

Yet that was only om his head. As soon as he saw you with your back to him, sitting with your friends, he knew he shouldn’t have lie to himself. Both of you were from different worlds and he needed to understand that. From now on he would keep his distance from you. Sitting away from you, not staring like he always does. Only this will keep him from being hurt again.

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The next day his plan was on the verge to fail every time you came within his eye side. In every class the two of you had together you were trying to sit in the closest possible seat, the whole time he could feel your eyes practically glued to his head, but he wouldn’t budge. After every class he would get out the fastest way possible. Even though he didn’t even want to look at you he was secretly hoping, deep down, that you will make him stop and explain that you didn’t dump him yesterday, that it was only a mistake. Something like you forgot or a friend of yours needed you for something really important. But he knew he shouldn’t hope. It was useless.

On the other hand, you were desperate to get Daryl’s attention, trying everything you could think of. The first two times you tried to catch up to him and explain why you didn’t end up with him yesterday, he walked so fast that it was impossible to even think of that. You knew he was ignoring you and you deserved it. But the truth was that you did wanted to sit with him, to be in his company again and to get lost into his beautiful blue eyes.

What happened yesterday was that you completely forgot. Until the moment you saw him leave the cafeteria you were so worried about the fact that you just received another bad grade in Science, a subject that you never seemed to understand, and the whole time were thinking of how to change it. It was so stupid and you knew that you had hurt him. The reason was so foolish and the whole rest of yesterday you were thinking how to explain it so it wouldn’t sound like something made up. At the end you decided to be honest with him. You would tell him the truth about what happened and then pray that he won’t call you a liar and never speak to you again.

You finally were able to sneak up on him after school. Fort the rest of the school day you were laying low, walking in different hallways to not seem like you were trying to catch him. So he relaxed, thought that you gave up on him and everything is how it always was. Not that he was happy, no. Every time he looked around and didn’t spot you within eye sight he felt a little pang in his heart, making him drop his shoulders. He didn’t even bother trying to listen to any of the teachers. He couldn’t make it a day without seeing you. How pathetic. He didn’t even notice your figure standing next to the door he was about to go through.

“Hey, Daryl, do you have a second?” Your words made him jump, turning towards you, looking like he saw a ghost and he couldn’t take his eyes of you. You were looking amazing as always, but a worried expression was adoring your face. Why would you be worried? Immediately he was the one concerned now. Did something happen to you? It didn’t look like you were crying so that was a good sign. The wrinkle between your eyebrows deepened and he remembered that you had asked him a question. “What do ya want?” The moment he said it he regretted the gruff way he spoke and the way your face turned from worried to sad didn’t help either. Good job ya idiot, now ya made’er sadder. “I’m sorry for yesterday” You said with your eyes looking at the floor, not being able to look into his eyes and see the disappointment and pain in them. “I got a D in Science and was really distracted and at the end forgot. I’m so, so sorry. Let me make it up to you. Do you want to go out sometimes?” At your confession Daryl was dumbfounded. He hoped that you really forgot and had a problem, but he never seriously considered it. He was sure you were too embarrassed to sit with him, let alone ask him to hang out with you. And how could he decline that, maybe he was even able to help you out with your troubles. He was always good at science so maybe he could study again with you.

“Ye-yea, I want’a hang out with ya. I can also help ya with science.” At that he seemed too eager so he tried to play it down with a casually “only if ya want’ta” and leaning on the near wall, looking at the smile appearing on your face like it didn’t make butterflies flutter inside his stomach. In a matter of seconds your face turned from sad and worried to a blinding smile. The knowledge that he was the one to brighten up your mood made him feel prouder than he has ever been. “Really?” The joyful look atop your face was enough to make Daryl weak in the knees. No one has ever looked at him with such a sincere hope as you. The attention you were giving him made his cheek burn in a bright red color and he ducked his head so you wouldn’t see it. There was a warmth inside him, going to every part of his body. Such a unique feeling, but oddly a nice one as well. “So... um..do ya want me ta help ya?” He said. “Of course. Do you want me to come to your house?” You offered, thinking he will prefer to be at his place.

Daryl’s eyes widened at your seemingly innocent suggestion. His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour in his ribcage. Last time he came to your place so it was only fair if this time he was the host. And he was too shy to ask to come to your house again. But there was no way in hell he was letting you see the dump he called “home”. You were looking at him with an anticipating gaze. He couldn’t let you down, disappoint you. Just as he was about to ask to come again at your house an idea formed into his head. There was a place he could always go, calm and safe. A place where he felt at piece and wanted to share with you. The woods he always went to calm down was a perfect place. The side of the creek cutting through the forest was an ideal spot to take you and he wouldn’t need to explain his home situation.

“Actually I was thinkin’ of a spot I know. It’s quiet and nice.” He offered and was now anxiously waiting for your reaction. “Of course. Where is it?” you asked. “I can’t really explain it. I can pick ya up from yur house and will show ya. Okay?” Just after saying it he realized how this sounded. He was offering to take you to a place you didn’t know and you probably didn’t trust him. Nice job, ia dumbass. Now she’s gonna think yur some kind of creep. Realy smart. He braced himself for your rejection of his idea. But instead you were on board with it. Even seemed like you weren’t worried at all. The two of you agreed he will pick you up at 10 am this Saturday and later he will drop you off.

After both of you agreed on the details you said goodbye and went on your way, smiling to yourself that Daryl didn’t resent you about yesterday. And the help he offered felt like a blessing. If you were lucky tomorrow, there was a chance to maybe finally make a move towards him.

Daryl was still leaning on the wall you left him at and he couldn’t believe his luck, but there was an unsettling feeling inside him. Just yesterday he swore to keep his distance from you. What if you accepted his offer only for his help? It didn’t sound unbelievable, but you didn’t seem like the person to do so. The joy in your eyes seemed genuine and so did your face. But that didn’t stop him from being afraid he was going to be hurt again. Maybe he should tell you that something came up and he couldn’t, just stick to his previous plan, but he didn’t have it in himself to disappoint you. The only thing he could do was hope for the best. Perhaps he will find the courage to finally do something about his crush on you.

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The time until Saturday couldn’t come faster. That was the thought replaying in Daryl’s head while trying to fall asleep. It was Thursday around 12 pm and he was laying in his room, staring at the clock on his nightstand. The house was quiet save for the sound of his dad’s snoring. When Daryl came home he was greeted with the sight of his father passed out in his armchair, a bottle of beer on the ground next to it. This view was the best Daryl could hope for. The other instance was his dad coming home late into the night and taking whatever anger he felt out on Daryl. After he felt he inflicted enough abuse, his father would go into his bedroom and pass out, loudly starting to snore.

Daryl would almost always stay in his room, in a corner feeling like the weakest person on earth, the most he would do was craw in his bed, looking at the ceiling. On the outside he looked calm, just laying but inside his head he was screaming to himself to finally do something. To get up and move out like Merle, to run from his father. And just when he felt he had enough courage his dad would come with new insults to add on the long list. It almost felt like he was able to sniff out when Daryl felt even an ounce of self-esteem and bravery. Then he would come with blows and kicks, curses spilling from his mouth, making Daryl remember who he really is. And where he belonged.

A creaking sound made Daryl snap out of his thoughts. Wistfully he knew all to well this sound, the very one of his dad’s room’s door. It always creaked, almost like an alarm for him to hide. And that was what he did. Going to his window and carefully lifting it up, so he won’t make himself known to his wasted father. As soon as he could craw out of it he maneuvered his body and landed on the outside of the trailer. Just on time to hear the door to his room open and heavy steps come inside. He styled his movements and strained his ears to hear his father’s reaction. In his head he was praying Will wouldn’t glance out of the window, because if he did Daryl was screwed. Maybe there really’s a god. Daryl thought as the only thing heard from his room was a slurred curse and then the sound of his bedroom door being closed. His whole body relaxed and he slumped onto the side of the trailer. That was a close call and he knew how lucky he was. The down side was there was no way to go in soon so he needed a place to stay. The thought of going to your house flashed across his head but then he realized how it will look. Him appearing outside your front door at midnight at a school night. And naturally there would be too many questions.

He couldn’t do that so he settled on going for a walk around town. It was late so the streets were mostly empty save for a few cars and some groups of teenagers. He stopped at the convenience store and went inside. The only person onside was a middle aged woman, dressed in the store uniform. She only glanced at him and then returned to the magazine she was reading. One of the things Daryl liked about coming there at night was that no one cared who were you. The employees would just look up at you and then return to their tasks. Going to the fridges he grabbed a can of Cola and headed towards the register. Placing the can on the counter he reached for a pack of gum and also placed it on the counter. The woman scanned the items and snatched the bills Daryl had handed her. Placing the money in the register she didn’t say anything to him as he walked out.

Now outside he opened his coke and took a sip of it. He needed to wait a bit more before going back to hi place, just in case his dad still hasn’t fell asleep yet. Looking around and seeing the local park he thought he might as well go there. The park was well lit and a few benches were scattered around for people to sit on. While walking around his mind wandered off towards you. What were you doing now? Probably sleeping but did you also think about your upcoming date. Where you as impatient as him or you were just patiently waiting? Maybe he never even crossed your mind and he wouldn’t be surprised. After all you just saw it as a favor. But for him it was so much more. You were trusting him that he knew what he was doing, even putting hope onto his knowledge.

Without noticing he was already at the end of the park and enough time had passed for him to go home. With sorrowful steps he made his way to his trailer. He always dreaded coming there, but he didn’t have any choice. From the front door he could hear his father’s snoring so at least he didn’t need to worry about that. Going into his room he flopped onto his bed and hugged his pillow. But oh how much he wanted you to be the one there with him. To run your fingers through his hair and place a kiss on top his head. With this dream in mind he fell asleep. It wasn’t surprising when his dream was exactly the thing he wanted the most – you.

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Saturday at 10 am the sound of the doorbell ringing made you run to open the door. You still didn’t have all the things you needed ready but didn’t want your mom opening the door and embarrassing you again, like the last time. Outside your front door stood Daryl with a little smile upon his face. “Hi, Daryl! Do you want to come in? I just need a minute.” You asked and opened the door more for him. “Yea, sure.” Answered Daryl and came inside. While walking beside you your hands accidentally brushed and goosebumps appeared along his skin. Every time your skin touched his he went all red in the face and this time it was no different. While ducking his head so you don’t see the crimson red painting his cheeks you made sure your mom is not around. Thank god she wasn’t, though it only seemed this way.

From the countertop in the kitchen your mom had a perfect view of the front door but you couldn’t see her. And she didn’t miss the way your eyes happened to brighten a bit at the sight of Daryl on your front step. And the way his face would color red almost immediately also wasn’t lost on her. Even though to here both of your feelings were obvious id didn’t seem like the two of you knew. But wasn’t it like this always?

Your house wasn’t that unfamiliar to Daryl now so he was able to relax a bit. The living room looked exactly like the last time he was here. Glancing at you he saw that you were already looking at him. Both of you blushed and looked away with little smiles on your faces. “So… I need only a few things from my room and I will be back. Would you mind waiting for a bit?” You questioned and waited for him to respond. “No, I will be good. I’ll wait here.” He said and looked around again. “Okay then. Make yourself comfortable.” You said and went upstairs, leaving Daryl alone. Going upstairs you grabbed a few books for science and the few snacks you prepared for today. Checking yourself in the mirror for the last time you went down happy with the way you looked.

In the living room you stooped dead in your tracks at the view before your eyes. Your mother was sat next to Daryl on the couch. She was smiling and it looked like she had just asked Daryl a question if you could guess from her expecting gaze. Daryl on the other hand looked like he wants to be anywhere but here. And your thoughts would be right, because Daryl regretted ever saying he wanted to come inside. He should have waited outside. Your mom came into the room just as you disappeared up the stairs, almost like she was waiting for you to leave. She greeted him and immediately started asking questions about him. He was so overwhelmed with that dose of attention that the most he could answer was a simple “yes” or “no”. Your mom didn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable he was so she carried on with her questions about how he was at school and other nonsense. Unfortunately, she didn’t skip the questions about his family but at that moment you came to his rescue.

“I’m ready. Are we going?” You urged looking at Daryl with raised eyebrows and a little smirk upon your mouth. “Yea, let’s go. Nice meetin’ you, ma’am.” Daryl said and got up. Your mom only offered a smile and said a goodbye as well. Finally, outside you questioned where you were going. Instead of answering you Daryl only glanced at you nervously and muttered a “You will see.”. Now that he was finally getting close to the woods he got more and more anxious. How would you react to him leading you into the woods? What if you found the little surprise he made for you ridiculous? But he didn’t let these thoughts win over the joy of being around you. The time you were walking there was mostly silence but it didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable. It was the exact opposite, a comfortable one and he didn’t feel the need to say something.

After about a 10 minute walk you were at the edge of the forest. He looked at you, expecting to see you looking around and confused but instead you were looking at him curiously. There was not a single sign of worry or confuse. “There is a little creek about 5 minutes from here. Thought you would like it.” He spoke first and waited for your reaction. “Lead the way then.” You said and waited for him to continue walking. Daryl’s nerves calmed down after your calm response. To be honest he didn’t think someone would be that calm around him, let alone you. After all you didn’t really know anything about him. And after a bit of thinking Daryl realized that he didn’t really know anything about you either other than the basic stuff like family and friends. Today was an opportunity to get to know you and he should use it.

The forest both of you were in was beautiful, full of sounds and light. The birds chirping and the rustling of the leaves was like music to your ears. The last time you were in a forest was maybe 2 years ago when you and your family went on a camping trip to a nearby national park. Thinking of it reminded you of how nice it was. You never thought that you could miss the forest but here you were. And looking at Daryl you noticed how relax he looked, no tension visible in his muscles. That was maybe the only time you have ever seen him so at peace. He looked at you with the corner of his eye and you turned your gaze away, not realizing that you were staring but you couldn’t help it. You were seeing new side of Daryl unfold in front of your eyes.

Daryl could already hear the sound of the water running ahead of him. His body wasn’t as tense as it was at your house, the forest having its calming effect on him. Now his mind was worked up if the thing he went earlier to set up was going to be too much. He wanted to make something special for you and hopped you wouldn’t find it stupid. Walking on a bit of narrow path covered in dry leaves somewhere you heard a Woodpecker pecking. Looking around the trees trying to find it you didn’t saw a tree root poking through the forest floor. Tripping on it you were too stunned to reach out your arms to stop your fall. Preparing yourself for the pain bout to come you braced yourself and closed your eyes but no pain came. Opening your eyes, you saw Daryl holding you to his chest, his face having an almost terrified expression on it. Your faces were so close that you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Looking at his lips you wondered what would be the feeling of them pressed against your own. Looking back at Daryl’s eyes you saw a new emotion in them but you couldn’t understand what it was.

Daryl caught you out of pure instinct, not thinking how close your bodies would be. But when you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes with this look of gratefulness his heart started pounding like a jackhammer inside his ribcage. And when you looked at his lips he sneaked a glance at yours. How full the seemed to be and the urge to feel them against his own was almost irresistible. Almost. But what if you didn’t want this and pushed him away from you. Called him a creep and ran away. He couldn’t risk it so he settled with looking at his feet and letting you go, the absence of your body and its warmth against it painfully obvious to him.

“Ya ok?” he asked this time looking at your face, scanning it for any sign of pain. You only shook your head, still a little bit shaken up from being so close to him. “I’m good, don’t worry. Are we close?” Turning to the direction the two of you were walking in you stepped over the root and turned to Daryl. “Uhm…yea. Jus’ a bit more.” With that you started walking again, this time looking where you were going. After just a minute of walking you saw the light reflecting from the surface of the water. In front of you was a creek surrounded by tall trees, the branches of the trees making a colorful shade over it. And then you saw the rest. At the sight of the blanket and the food scattered on it you halted immediately. There were different kinds of food and 2 sodas atop it.

“Hope ya like it. I’ve never really did somethin’ like tha’.” His nervous words made you turn to him, seeing his cheeks painted bright red. He was shuffling from foot to foot and looking down. “Oh, Daryl, you did all this? For me?” One look into his eyes told him that you did in fact like it. “Of cours’ fer ya.” He said with a bashful smile and sat on the blanket, making a gesture with his hand for you to do the same. Plopping down next to him you continued looking around, enjoying the sight before your eyes. Daryl was doing the same thing, his gaze pinned on you. He was finally starting to believe that this was actually happening, you with him at the only place he knew how to relax. You probably weren’t feeling the same way as him but for now he would allow himself to daydream you do.

Turning back to him you pulled out a notebook and stared at him expectantly. He seemed like he forgot what the two of you were meeting up to do. Snapping out of his daydreams he pulled out his book and started to actually work. But every now and then you would take small breaks and would snack on the things he prepared and chat for everyday stuff. Daryl never thought talking with someone can be this easy, not awkward or pointless small talk. And you would ask so many questions, trying to learn the things that he liked. Asking what was his favorite ice cream - chocolate or about his favorite color – green. And he would always return the question absorbing the information like a sponge tossed into water. The knowledge wasn’t something really deep but it was the things that made you who you were.

By the late afternoon you finally understood Science. Turns out Daryl can be an amazing teacher, patiently explaining everything that you didn’t understand. And he now knew enough stuff about you that he felt like he has always known you. When the sun looked like was about to set you picked up your things and Daryl cleaned up, getting the blanked in one hand. Starting to walk back to your house the whole way you were talking and laughing. If someone saw you they would think that both of you were longtime friends, just going for a walk. Gradually in no time you here in front of your front door and you were turning to say goodbye to Daryl. But he was already looking at you, a seemingly sad expression onto his face. He didn’t want this to end, talking and learning new things about you.

“I had an amazing time with you. If you want to maybe, we should do it again.” The enthusiastic tone of your voice making him feel like someone lit a fire inside him, the warmth spreading to very crevice of his body. “I would love ta.” The smile on top his face was genuine and before he knew what was happening you were leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek. His body was completely straightened up and the look on his face being like to someone just stricken up by thunder.

“Bye, Daryl. I will see you Monday.” Turning around and going inside your house you left Daryl on your porch wondering if he will ever get used to these.

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