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rinhaler · 6 months

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I will kiss you and hold you and pet you and call you a good girl if you write a toji os abt him having a one nightstand with someone and when he’s undressing them he unzips their dress WITH HIS TEETHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA……….. anyways!!! :3

am i a good girl now :(((

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, soft dom!toji (maybe), alcohol consumption, squirting, fingering, face-sitting, vaginal sex, tit sucking, praise, slight degradation, reader passes out for a sec.

words: 2.4k

“Can I buy you a drink?” a handsome stranger asks you as you sit by your lonesome at the bar. You came here with your friend, who has since disappeared since locating her ex-boyfriend. And you suspect he won’t be an ex for much longer. The attention makes you giddy. His scar pulling as he smirks at you, a grin that grows wider when you nod. He pulls out his card and waits to flag down a bar tender. “I’m Toji, by the way.”

You introduce yourself and you curse yourself for how pathetic you must seem. It’s embarrassing, really, feeling so accomplished that a man deemed you worthy enough to talk to and buy a drink for. He’s like a model, possessing a wide build and tall figure. He could have any woman here if he wanted, you’re sure. And despite your inner monologue telling you to act coy, you’re sure you’re a bashful fool.

He orders you the same blue lagoon cocktail you’ve already had three of, and himself a lemonade.

“You don’t drink?” you ask him.

“Nah, it doesn’t really affect me.”

You shrug, slurping the ice cold cocktail through a metal straw you brought from home. He smirks at that, noting that you’re the type to prepare this much for what he’s sure is meant to be a casual night out. And he asks you questions about yourself that you’re so willing to answer. You ask him questions about himself that he answers too, though the responses are surface level and simple. The mystery only adds to his allure.

He's funny, effortlessly. Everything he says seems to make you giggle. You’re a cliché, too, twirling your hair as you hang on his every word. It’s a mix or attraction and intoxication. Is he really so interesting and funny or are you just wet and transfixed by his looks?

Your laughter dies out when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s your friend, coming to say goodbye. She points at her ex and tells you she’s leaving with him.

So much for girl code.

Though she does offer you to hop in the taxi with them so you can go home. But you don’t want to leave Toji. You want to keep making a lovesick fool of yourself for him and maybe see where the night takes you. So she waves and you focus on the older looking man beside you. He licks his lips, his scar glistening under the everchanging technicolour lights flooding the club.

“Wanna get going, gorgeous?” he asks, leaning over to speak into your ear. The rough gravel to his voice rushing straight to your pulsing cunt. You shouldn’t, really, should you? It’s not smart to go home with guys you’ve never met. You don’t know him or his intentions, he could be plying you with alcohol to get you stupid enough to kill you.

“Mhmm.” you nod, dumbly, consequences be damned. If you die, you’ll die by the hand of a man so beautiful you’d think an angel would cry at his presence. He takes your hand, leading you outside and hailing a cab. You at least have the sense to go to your place, knowing your cousin lives a few doors down and will surely here if things go wrong.

He kisses you deeply in the back of the cab, fingers digging into your skin as he squeezes your plush thigh. You moan, lewdly, when he tells you to stick out your tongue and he sucks it before licking it with his own. Tongues tangling as he continues to squeeze and knead your malleable flesh.

“Head on up, I’ll follow you.” he tells you as he pulls out his wallet. You nod, agreeing, whispering your apartment number before clambering out of the car. The chill of the 2am air bites at your skin, and you hurry to the security door. You pull the key from your purse and rush inside.

Toji takes his time paying the driver, grunting as he puts his wallet away and slides out of his side of the car. He slowly skulks to the entrance, smiling when he realises you remembered to leave the latch for him to get inside. He sees a crowd gathered by the elevator and opts to take the stairs instead.

He smirks, gleefully, when he sees you waiting by the front door.

“Watcha doin’, gorgeous?” he wonders.

“Waiting for you.” you confess, looking down at your feet awkwardly as shame surges through your body.

He approaches, slowly. But before you know it you’re looking up at him and caged between his body and your front door. His hands rest against the frame as he studies your blown eyes and nervous face.

“Somethin’ tells me you’ve never had a one night stand before,” he smiles, scar pulling deliciously once again. You can barely form a thought unable to break yourself from the hypnotising mark on his lip. “Unlock the door.”

“I already did…” you gulp, nervously, still unable to tear your eyes away from his.

He likes your answer, picking you up so that your legs wrap around his waist and he lets himself into your home. Your lips lock and tongues clash as he controls the kiss, but your eagerness gets the better of you. Your hips rutting and soft moans pour from you as you portray yourself as a desperate slut for his benefit.

You pout, a little defeated, as he sets you back down. Though the disappoint dies an instantaneous death as he spins you around so your back is to him, pushing you into the wall by your entryway.

“Have you fucked a stranger before, princess?” he asks, brushing your hair from your shoulder and whispering devilishly into your ear. You shake your head, pathetic strings of ‘no!’ spilling from your lips as his fingers explore under your dress and pinch your ass. You bite your lip as you feel his heavy fingers prod at your drippy panties. He huffs out a laugh when he realises how wet you are. “Allllll of this jus’ for me? You shouldn’t have, darlin’.”

“B-Been wet… since you asked if I wanted a drink…” you tell him, giggling a little and hiding your face against the wall.

“No no no…” he objects, tugging your hair softly to draw you out. “Wanna see you, wanna see how you look when I ruin you.” you feel your body flush with heat at his words, turning your head to the side so he can see you again. You place your palms against the wall to brace yourself, not expecting him to pull your panties down your legs from under your dress.

He relishes in how you can barely keep your eyes open as he sinks two fingers into your sopping cunt and your panties drop to the ground. You bite your inner cheek, though it does little to keep you quiet as he curls his fingers against your spongy insides.

“Oh fuck.” you gasp, ashamed that you might cum after a few pathetic pumps of his fingers. Though it doesn’t feel right. You don’t want it to stop, but you don’t feel like you usually do when you’re close to cumming. “W-Wait.” you move your head and try to close your legs.

“Sh.” he stops you, kicking your ankles to keep your legs open. He holds your head against the wall with his forearm, his breathing heavy in your ear. You shudder when he kisses against it, chuckling quietly when he feels your pussy begin to clench. “Stop clenching, push. It’ll feel good, promise… push against me.” he commands.

You don’t know what’s he’s talking about. Push your body? No, he said stop clenching. You’re trying to keep him inside, keep the feeling inside. But he repeats it. Push. And like he’s the master of your cunt, it listens.

“Good girl, baby…” he praises you as he notes the pressure switch from your tender hole. You moan, and he coos. Faux sympathy as he fucks you dumb on his thick digits.

“Toji! Ngh—!” you moan. Clear liquid jets from your pussy, dripping down your thighs and soaking your panties and the floor beneath. He doesn’t let up, either, still battering his fingers against your g-spot.

“There you go, princess. Good fuckin’ girl… so good for me darlin’.” he moans, too, getting off on your pleasure and the striking realisation that you’ve never squirted before. He’s proud of himself, and he’s proud of you. “Fuckin’ soaked your pretty panties, sweetheart. Dirty little girl…” he teases.

You don’t have the energy to respond, already spent from cumming in such an alien way. He kisses your shoulder as your legs continue to shake. Any logic from the thought of telling him to stop fingering you dissipates when you think that he can you make you cum like that again.

He feels his hardened cock over his jeans as he looks down at the puddle beneath you. Still pumping his fingers against your sweet spot until your eyes roll over white. He can’t take it anymore. The unrelenting inner voice telling him to touch himself. He thinks he might die if he doesn’t stroke his length, even for a minute.

“Don’t move.” he orders.

You stay still, unsure of what he’s doing. Though you whimper as you feel his body press against yours. His head sinks to the top of your dress, and you just about cum again when you realise he’s biting down on the metal zipper, pulling it down with his teeth as exposing your bare back.

The black mini dress falls to the ground into the puddle of your lewdness and your drenched underwear.

“Good girl, stay there.”

He pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it aside down the hallway, only to be seen by the end of this dalliance. You hear him kick off his shoes and quickly throws away his socks. Eagerly, his pants follow, as do his underwear. He’s just as naked as you, now. And you choke out a breath as you hear him drop to his knees, licking up the mess on your thighs and pussy. But he turns around, sitting on his ass with his back against the wall, without a care for the wetness beneath. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your cunt towards his face.

“Sit.” he instructs.

You do, without pause, moaning boisterously as he sucks at your clit and covers his face in your sweetness. One arm remains hooked around thigh while the other releases, hand in search of his aching length. He plays with himself, alternating between lazy strokes and passionate ones. The taste of your cunt makes him dizzy, unable to believe how much slick you’re producing as he relentlessly feasts on your flesh.

“F-fuck, Toji… finger me, please.” you beg. He’s leaking like crazy, and thinks your request might have come at the perfect time. He lets himself go in favour of pleasuring you, the sound of your sticky cunt squelching with each press throughout your eerie apartment. Neither of you had even found time to turn on a light, the only thing illuminating the room is the filtering light sneaking in through the cracks of your front door. “G’na cum, a-again… holy— s-shit.” you moan.

It spurs him on, maintaining all of his ministrations as he tries to coax your second orgasm out of you. He grunts, loudly, against your sodden folds as you squirt again. His face and hair doused with your release as he doesn’t dare pull away. The sadistic desire to prolong your ecstasy is fuelling him to keep going. He feels like he might cum untouched as he feels your cum cover him.

Your legs give, his burly arms hook around your thighs again in a bid to keep you stable. But his hands wander, impatiently. Fingers grip into your waist as he pulls you away from the wall.

He helps you down, hovering you above his longing cock as he guides it to your spent hole.

“I don’t have any condoms.” he tells you.

“Don’t care—” you assure him, wriggling your hips eagerly. “’m on the pill.”

“Greedy girl,” he smirks, pushing you down onto his cock. You want to scream from the stretch but you manage to refrain. He sets a ruthless pace, forcing you to accommodate to it quickly. “Been so sweet for me, darlin’. Gonna be nice ‘n do all the work for ya, okay? Say thank you.”

“T-Thank you! Thank you.” you babble nonsensically.

His knees are bent as he fucks up into your abused hole, the velocity propelling you forward. Your fingers clutch onto his shoulders for dear life as he takes advantage of your body being in such close proximity to his mouth. He sucks your tits, eliciting a dreamy moan from you. The gorgeous sounds you make for him have his cock drooling inside of your unprotected walls.

It's so sorrowful, really, thinking about how pathetic you both are. He seemed so calm and collected and yet neither of you could even make it through the hallway of your apartment before you were both stripped bare. You thought you’d be fucking comfortably on your bed. But here you are, being fucking destroyed by his monstrously large cock on the wooden, soaking, hallway floor.

“Gonna cum, baby.” he breathes against your spit soaked tits. The admission makes you cream, clenching around his thick, veiny cock as you brace yourself. “Fuck, darlin’, you’re gonna cum again. Can feel it, little cock slut. No one’ll fuck you like this again, y’know.”

“Ah- aaaah—!” is all you can say as a lesser stream of liquid shoots from you once more. The internal bliss you feel makes you pass out momentarily. But you come around quick enough to feel your untainted insides become stained with his white, creamy warmth.

He groans, deeply, bouncing you up and down his length. He wishes there was a light on to see the creamy ring and the messy puddle you’ve created together.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, baby.” he tells you, grasping the crown of your head with his palm to guide you into a sloppy kiss. He manages to stand up whilst keeping himself slotted comfortably inside of you. You giggle as you guide him to the nearest light switch, and both of you look down at the mess you’ve made. Shame builds once again and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Awe, pretty girl made a dirty little mess f’me.” he teases you.

“Stop! ‘m so embarrassed!” you tell him, the sentence muffled as you talk into his skin.

“S’okay, rest up.” he tells you, stroking your back soothingly. “Give me a tour, wanna see the next place we can make a mess of.”

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darkstarerotica · 4 months

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Gracie’s The-Rapist

Gracie was like other women in their early twenties. She was depressed and anxious. Not all the time of course. But enough of the time. A friend had recommended a therapist for her. She claimed he had “fixed, I mean… helped me”. The word fixed hung in the air oddly but she didn’t pay much attention. Gracie made the appointment later that week. A couple of weeks later she sat in the doctors office. He was handsome, older, which made her a little uncomfortable at first as she was always attracted to older men. Especially intelligent men.

The first couple of sessions were pretty standard. Intake questions and talking about life and struggles. At the end of the third appointment the therapist mentioned that for the next session they were going to change gears a little but didn’t elaborate. She was intrigued but didn’t push things further.

At the next session he started by getting her to close her eyes and imagine different scenarios. She would then recount them to him. As the session went on he had her imagine more and more intimate scenarios. Finally he asked her about sexual fantasies. She giggled a little but was in such a suggestive state she started to share details about her fantasies. Being used by older men, consensual non consent, being choked and slapped by her partners. The last scenarios she could not believe she was sharing she told him how she had always wanted to be used publicly by anyone willing. Open for all that wanted her.

He brought her back around and instead of being uneasy with her openness she felt relieved. Her anxiety had dissipated and so had her sadness. She waited eagerly for the next appointment. When she sat down he congratulated her on her improvements. And said that they were going to move on to the next step in her therapy. This session they were going to use full hypnosis. “Are you ok with that?” he asked. She was not really even sure what that would entail, but she was so happy with how she had been feeling that she readily consented. He pulled a small pen light from his pocket and alternating her eyes had her count down from 20. Blackness. She woke some time later. Groggy She looked at the clock. Five minutes before the end of their session. She felt… odd. But really good. Relaxed. Strange. It was then that she realized she must have been aroused at some point. She could feel her panties wet between her legs. She squirmed a little. Hoping for a moment she hadn’t wet herself. She would have died from embarrassment. “No, I am just wet, soaking wet.”

The doctor concluded the session by telling her that some patients experience being aroused while they are under and she shouldn’t worry if she has had that happen. It is perfectly normal. She admitted to nothing but felt very relieved. “Whatever he did” she thought “it really worked. The week passed with her mood totally elevated. She was happy and glowing. All of the next month the sessions continued. Always with the same response. Without knowing why she started to want to wear different clothes to the sessions. Shorter skirts more revealing blouses. She wore more make up. Whatever she felt made her look the prettiest. She was feeling so good about herself she couldn’t help but want to.

This next session something odd happened. Well, rather it happened after. She had this vision come to mind. It was the night after a session she blinked her eyes as she saw herself in the office. She was on her knees the doctor standing before her. He had her head in his hands and He was slowing fucking her mouth with his hard cock. She instantly got aroused. She could feel her wetness. She kept the vision in her head and she started to touch herself. Moaning as he continued. He kept telling her “Gracie, yes, you are such a good girl. Good girls know how to suck cock and you are proving what a good girl you are” He continued in her minds eye till finally he released a big full load deep down her throat. She came instantly.

At the next session as they were about to start she told her therapist “I am so embarrassed but I have to tell you about this vision I had.” She recounted to him the story. Leaving out the pleasuring of herself. As he listened he moved about the room. Occasionally just nodding. A couple “I see” so that she knew he was listening. “Gracie?” “Yes” “Here stand and move to my desk, yes there, right in the middle” “Um ok” She hesitated but did as she was told. She was wearing a particularly short skirt this session. With a mesh top over her bra. She hadn’t even thought this might be inappropriate to wear to her doctors office.

He moved towards her. She thought to move away but she felt powerless. She stayed like a deer caught in the gaze of a lion. He positioned himself right in front of her. He grabbed her, his touch surprised her. “Wait, what are you doing?” she protested. “I am going to show you what a good girl you’ve become” At hearing those words she got wet immediately. All she could think about wanting him. “wait I’m confused” He responded with “here let me show you” He lifted up her skirt. Pulled her panties down in a swift motion and dove his fingers into her wet pussy. She moaned instinctively. He started to finger her with one then two fingers. She was confused but couldn’t break away. It felt amazing. “He pulled his fingers out and brought him to her lips “good girls get wet when they are told to, see what a good girl you are?” and at each mention she felt her pussy throb. He put his fingers in her mouth and she sucked on them eagerly. She licked them clean and he congratulated her again “There’s my good girl” and now she was beyond rabid. She wanted his cock inside her more that anything she had ever wanted “Please, please fuck me” she begged. He unzipped his pants and she immediately dropped to her knees. She eagerly placed him in her mouth, she didn’t even know she could give head like that. Her gag reflex was gone and he moaned as she soaked his hard cock in her spit. After a while he held her head steady, and started to use her mouth like a toy. The vision. This is what she saw. It came back to her and blended with the reality. She moaned, but still her gag reflex was completely gone. He pushed into her face harder and faster. Then he pulled out. Praised her again and brought her to her feet.

‘See what a good girl I have made you?” She moaned at the words. He flipped her around hands on his desk. He pushed up her skirt and easily slid his cock inside of her. She had never experienced anything like it. He fucked her deep and hard and she came readily and often. “Are you my good girl?” He asked her. An the words would make her cum again “Yes, yes, I am your good girl… please keep fucking me, please…” As their session time neared the end he paused. “And, now do you remember what good girls do at the end of their sessions?” “Yes, good girls use their mouths to repay their doctor and to clean him up for his next patient”… “That’s, right that is exactly what good girls do”. She turned around and dropped to her knees. Not just giving him head but licking his thighs and balls, Any where were here cum was she licked him clean. Moaning and licking, moaning and licking. Then finally she took him fully in her mouth and sucked on him like a machine. When he could take no more he grabbed her head. Pulled her all the way in and came deeply down her throat. He groaned as he released and held her there, her mouth balls deep until his spasms stopped and he drained himself fully inside her.

He stood up, pulled his pants up. Patted her on the top of the head and said “Our usual appointment time next week” Without thinking, or feeling Gracie simply agreed, nodding her head.

#relationship goals #bd/sm kink #bd/sm relationship #bd/sm community #relationship #bd/sm dynamic #my writing #naughty #smut #therapy #doctor fun #hypnosis #mind control #mind conditioning #brainwashing #hypno fantasy #hypnotized

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months

Text

Asshole Instructor

Luke Castellan x Jackson!Reader

Request: luke x jackson!reader angst to fluff like he likes reader but bullies her and like one day she almost dies and then he feels so guilty and confesses

Summary: Luke has been an asshole but he can't help it until he realizes the girl he likes could be gone any minute

Warning: Angst, bullying, Luke acting like a five year old, monsters, injuries

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist

A/N I tweaked your request a bit so the story flows more imo

“Faster,” I yelled at one of our newest campers. Y/N Jackson dropped her sword and ripped off her helmet, looking at me with fury in her eyes. I was a little afraid but mostly really attracted to her like this.

“Don’t fu-”

“Hey, we don’t curse,” I reminded her of the camp rules. “What with all the kids around.” Seeing her become even angrier made it so hard not to laugh. I was just glad that we weren’t near any bodies of water. When I had told her that her 12 year old brother was a better fighter than her at dinner, every glass of water rose up in the air she was so mad.

She just threw the sword down and stormed off. “Hey!” I yelled after her. “You’re not dismissed.” But she ignored me, continuing to storm off towards the beach. I felt a pang of guilt antagonizing her to the point that she left but I figured I shouldn’t chase after her if she was going to be around water. Plus, it was funny to see her get so mad.

I turned around the clean up the arena only to see Annabeth standing there looking unimpressed. “Why are you being so mean to her?” she asked.

“I’m not, I'm just messing around.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you’re antagonizing her. And I think I know why,” she smirked.

“Why?” I asked, deciding to humor her.

“Because you looove her,” she replied smugly, drawing out ‘love.’

“I do not,” I immediately defended. I cringed as my response was too fast. She only gave me a satisfied smirk. “Fine, okay. She’s pretty, I’ll give you that.” Annabeth just raised her eyebrow. “And smart,” I admitted. She kept looking at me. “And nice.” More looks. “Fine! Whenever I see her I want to kiss her and never let her out of my sight.”

A smile broke out on her face, finally satisfied. “See? Now go tell her that. Well- maybe not that exactly. You’ll probably scare her off. But tell her how you feel instead of harassing her and making her hate you.”

My heart stopped. “She hates me?”

“Probably!” Annabeth said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Or at least she will if you keep treating her so terribly.”

“Fine, I’ll apologize to her after dinner,” I sighed.

“No! Now,” she demanded.

“But she’s at the beach. She’ll kill me!”

“I don’t care. Go,” she said, pointing down the beach. “And take this to her.”

I grumbled, grabbing her helmet from Annabeth before heading after the daughter of Poseidon. When I finally found her she was sitting near a cluster of rocks, clearly trying not to be noticed by anyone. But as I prepared to tell her how I felt but as I looked at her, I thought about all the horrible ways she could reject me. And then humiliate me by telling everyone in camp about it. So instead I threw the helmet at her.

It bounced off the rock with a clang, clearly startling her. “What? Are you gonna cry because I told you, you sucked. What are you 5?”

“Go away, Luke,” she yelled. I once again felt a pang in my chest as I heard the trembling in her voice. Whether from rage or tears I wasn’t quite sure. But picturing her laughing in my face as she rejected me made me keep going.

“I see why your dad went back to your mom. He couldn’t have his only demigod child in decades be so weak like you.”

“I said go away!” she yelled, standing up. Her eyes were practically on fire as she looked at me with a burning glare. The ocean was getting choppier behind her before it lunged up into a huge wave, soaking me to the bone. I coughed when it finally receded and she was left there, standing dry. “Leave me alone or I’ll stuff you in a sewer pipe,” she threatened, walking off.

When I told Annabeth what happened she threatened to stuff me in a sewer pipe. But other than that she let it go and I hadn’t seen much of Y/N. Which hurt at times because I missed seeing her and I thought about her all the time but I honestly deserved that threat she gave me so I respected her wishes.

That was until I heard a scream and then a boy’s desperate yell. I was in the arena when I heard it and didn’t hesitate running towards the sound. There I found Percy and his sister at the edge of the forest. Percy was frantically pushing on his sister’s bleeding leg as she was getting visibly paler. He looked up, seeing me. “Do something!” he yelled.

I ran over, kneeling by her side. I could now see the wound clearly and it was deep. Deep enough to kill her from blood loss. She already had a puddle underneath her and I could see a trail coming from the woods. “Go get Chiron,” I told the boy. He nodded, getting up to sprint to the Big House.

I looked at Y/N’s face, surprised to see her still conscious. “Surprised you’re not cutting me further open,” she said through shallow breaths.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve treated you like shit and I promise I’ll explain why when you’re better but I need you to focus on staying awake right now. Think you can do that?”

Despite the fact that my hands were keeping her from bleeding out she had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” I breathed. I felt ashamed realizing that was probably the first nice thing I had ever said to her.

Once some Apollo kids came and took her the Big House I went with them. But once they had her in the sickroom and everyone else was kicked out, I became wracked with guilt and worry. I made her life miserable. Why? Because I was afraid of my own feelings for her? I realized just how ridiculous that was. And I realized how little time I may have to actually confess my feelings.

“What happened, Percy?” Chiron’s words interrupted my thoughts.

“We were in the forest just trying to get some monster fighting experience when this big… dog—I think it was a hellhound—jumped at me out of nowhere. I guess she saw it first because she pushed me out of the way but its claws caught her leg,” Percy explained. “Is she going to be alright?” he asked, tears in his wide eyes.

“Yes, she should be fine,” Chiron assured the boy before sending a reassuring look to me too. Did everyone know I liked her? I briefly cursed Annabeth, she probably told him.

But soon enough Lee and Michael said we could go in so I followed Percy into the room. Her leg was wrapped in a pristine white bandage and the sheets must have been changed because they were also white in contrast to her bloody shirt and shorts.

“Percy, why don’t you go get her some clothes for when she wakes up?” I suggested. He looked reluctant but went anyway so I could talk to her. I took a seat by her head, observing her peaceful, beautiful face. “I don’t know if you can hear me but… at least you can’t reject me like this,” I said, letting out an empty chuckle. “But um I guess I'm fulfilling my promise. The reason I’ve been such an asshole to you is because… well… I think I’m in love with you. And I was afraid of my feelings and that you’d reject me so I took it out on you and I’m sorry for that. You didn’t deserve that.”

I sat there for a beat of silence, unsure what to do. But just before I stood up and left, I felt her fingers brush against mine. “Took you long enough to confess, jerk,” she said. I looked back at her, finding the slightest smile and her gorgeous eyes.

“So… you like me too?” I asked, my heart pounding with insecurity.

“Yeah, of course I do,” she admitted. I smiled, leaning down to press my lips to hers. When I pulled away to breathe she took the opportunity to speak. “If you tell anyone I’ll stuff you in a sewer pipe.”

“Sure you will,” I taunted her, connecting our lips again. This time I only pulled away when I heard a slightly squeaky voice.

“What are you doing with my sister?”

Masterlist

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #the lightning theif #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #x reader #percy jackson x sister!reader

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trashogram · 15 days

Text

He Chose You (Pt. 11)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

“Adam, for your transgression, you will be dealt with accordingly. For now, you are dismissed.”

Adam’s voice and demeanor had become so grating to you that you actively blocked out the bitching that followed. You weren’t sure if, when he’d finally stopped having a foul-mouthed tantrum, a lot of time had passed or not.

It didn’t matter when you were blessed with near silence at last. A slip of harsh gold out of the corner of your eye led you to believe that Adam’s lackey had followed him out.

“Emily, please follow.”

“But Sera…”

“No harm will come to her here. She just needs time.”

There was no need to look up, as the fluttering of Emily’s wings were now telltale in spite of how little you’d known her.

“Go on.”

You hadn’t seen her go, but it was like all the energy in the air had been sucked out as she left you behind. In her stead was a still, oppressive atmosphere where anxiety lingered to crawl up your spine the longer you sat in it.

Sera was staring down at you.

“Why…” Your voice was hoarse, even if you hadn’t been screaming or sobbing as you wanted to.

Swallowing back the thickness that had built in your throat physically hurt. An errant thought that it shouldn’t (nothing should hurt anymore) passed you by.

“Why am I here?” You looked up, staring back at Sera.

The Angel considered you for a long moment.

“Your place here has been ordained by the Father, a privilege bestowed upon you for your act of service.”

The words from her lovely mouth didn’t make sense for so long that you almost asked the Seraphim to repeat herself. Your eyes narrowed as your gaze turned roundabout, as if whatever could make sense of this was somewhere in your surroundings.

“I… Wait, I’d have thought that…” Head shaking, you implored Sera again with your eyes. “What service?”

“You delivered upon the world Christ’s opposing force through your union with —” Here, you saw Sera’s long throat flex with the effort of swallowing.

“Lucifer.” You finished, watching and confirming as Sera’s frame twitched that just the mention of the Devil made this powerful force uncomfortable.

It was odd, but didn’t take away the pain that just mentioning his name brought. You felt as if a great gaping hole had been punched through your chest, taking with it all your vital organs and the power of your lungs.

Impressions of his anguished face and the sound of Charlotte crying were permanently etched in your mind. You bit down on your tongue, lest you scream your grief.

It felt like they had died and not you.

“I’ll never see them again.” Your head fell into your hands as you were overcome. “I barely got to hold my own baby.”

Sera sighed deeply, inching toward the War Table adjacent to you both.

“I understand that leaving people behind can be painful.” Her great arms reached over the table, motioning until light rose from the board and took on fantastical shapes. “But time heals all.”

Instead of comfort, her wisdom made you sniffle. You rubbed your eyes like a child to prevent the steady rise of tears threatening to escape.

Through the blur, you saw Sera smile wanly. “You may feel grateful with time. Staying any longer could have led you further astray.”

That made you pause between shuddering sobs.

Fuck, you’d been sobbing on the floor of heaven.

Fucking Heaven.

“W-what?” You asked finally.

Sera’s idle hands continued to create new sources of light and shape. You rose from the floor of cumulus and nimbus on jelly legs and walked toward her, for lack of anything else to do.

A perfect sphere rose above the table, with little pinpricks of light surrounding it. It could’ve been anything but you had the sense to imagine it was a depiction of Earth.

“Had you stayed mortal and lived another 10, 20, perhaps 30 years, you could have become susceptible to the enemy’s mindset.” Sera said. “It’s not unthinkable when human beings are often led by their hearts, even if it goes against their best interest.”

Your heart was jabbed with indignation at that.

“Acts of Service can become Acts of Sacrifice if one veers off the path.” She gently swirled around the Earth with one hand, and it fell into a tilt naturally before rotating among the stars.

Sera eyed you from her peripheral as you stood beside her to watch. “You might’ve grown attached and… denied yourself.”

“Hold on, please — just…” You closed your eyes after several moments. “I’m here, in Heaven, because Lucifer asked that I be let up here when I died?”

“That is correct.” Sera guided the stars in a variety of paths.

“And you agreed because having his baby was actually a good thing?” You asked. “But how? Why would God want that to happen if the Devil is his enemy?”

“Life is all about balance.” The celestial took on the role of teacher naturally. “Light needs darkness to exist. This is how it has been and will always be, since He created the Heavens and the Earth.”

“Lucifer has gone on too long without an heir - Hell cannot be unmanned should anything happen to its King. To ensure that this would never come to pass, He agreed to certain terms, which have been abided by — despite Lucifer’s constant revisions.”

At that, the Seraphim looked borderline petulant. Her disapproval was clear in the way the many eyes that decorated her wingspan, hair and crown-like halo shrunk into slivered crescents.

“It’s been centuries since he was ordered to conceive a child. Out of Love, the Father bestowed an exorbitant amount of time on him to make it happen. Once you were found and the contract was signed, your place in Heaven was guaranteed as stipulated.” She halted her recital to spare a glance your way.

“His ways can be opaque, but they are always meant to take us in the right direction.” Sera offered after a lull, to dispel the dumbfounded look on your face. You could see the way her lips pursed, as if daring to question that explanation was an affront to her existence. As if what she’d just told you didn’t change your perception so thoroughly that your head was spinning.

Self-preservation no longer being a factor, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, ‘God works in mysterious ways’.” You mocked. “People say that when they don’t know what to say. But you actually work under God, don’t you??”

“That is a crude way to describe my role here.” Sera responded with reproach.

“But essentially correct.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You take orders from Him, clearly.”

The Seraphim’s manicured nails pierced through the infinitely shifting stars, fingers curling into a claw as the line of her mouth grew severe. Her brow downturned as she faced you, irritated.

“Just like Lucifer took orders from Him, I bet.” The pieces were slotting into place. “Until he… until he… did exactly what he was supposed to.”

You laughed with disbelief at the revelation, hands coming up to grab at your thankfully unchanged hair. The starlight before you began to dim, falling back into the passive marble of the war table. Sera pivoted rather abruptly, a touch of disquiet in her fractured facade as she took in your dysfunction.

Her gaze became shifty, and you caught it, but it was the least of your concerns. You were in the middle of a manic breakdown for the second time in less than an hour.

Lucifer didn’t like to talk about Heaven — that was evident from his stuttering when he first revealed himself to you. So, whether it was out of the goodness of your heart or built-in doormat passivity, you hadn’t discussed the place. Truthfully, you’d thought very little of it as a place and more as a concept, even when the Devil came knocking on your door in flesh and blood.

It was an uphill battle to calm yourself. You closed your mouth to stop the laughing and coughed at the tickle to your throat. You’d never been good at breathing through your nose. Arms slid down to clutch at your stomach and center yourself, frame slowly easing out of the hyperventilation.

“So… God damned his own son to Hell and made him into Heaven’s Big Bad for the sake of balance… And he wanted that Big Bad to have a child like He Himself did, also for the sake of balance…”

‘And Lucifer agreed as long as you got to go to eternal paradise…’

Your summation was stated lifelessly, a knife’s edge away from sarcastic. The big secret to Life was out: it was all a fun little show that God put on for himself to stave off boredom. Even those he held closest weren’t safe from it.

“An-nd you’ve never ever questioned this?” You asked faintly, a crooked smile of disbelief on your face. “Ever?”

A breeze blew back the hair that had fallen into your face.

Sera was suddenly so much closer in proximity, and you flinched back at the power exuding from her like an aura.

“We do not question the Father.” The Seraphim’s glower betrayed her true feelings toward you. Yet, instead of continuing to back away from the hostility, you forced yourself to stand in place as best you could.

It gave you whiplash when Sera’s pinched face relaxed. She straightened up with another deep, deep sigh. The danger that felt like static electricity dissipated from your skin, but you held onto the edge of the war table regardless.

The light show had gone off as quickly as it was turned on. You felt its loss of warmth as sharply as you’d felt Emily’s.

“Lucifer was unable to fully grasp the Great Purpose.” Sera was imposing as she straightened to her fully height and towered above you once again. “He questioned everything, and for it he Fell.”

“And I would suggest,” The Seraphim glared at you as if you were an insect she wanted to crush. “that you do not emulate his sin. For the sake of your immortal soul.”

***

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems, @cherry-cola-100, @pink-apples001, @al-of-the-stars, @backinthefkingbuildingagain, @martinys-world, @alastorssimp, @wobblesthewaffle, @shikiribee, @undertale-anomaly20, @asakura-fangirl-stuff, @ringsofpersonti, @angelicwillows, @wingoodlilboymyway, @cimadreamer, @museofzealoushope, @oneiric-rotaerc, @call-me-nyxx

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel x reader #Thank y’all for being patient #good news is there will be more chapters bc I cut this one in half #bad news is Lucifer’s whereabouts are put on pause a chapter longer than anticipated

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ijustthinkhesneat · 2 months

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I feel compelled to expand upon the previous fae/folklore! Batboys headcanons:

-Bruce is just a straight up normal human. I think this provides a great opportunity for angst because unlike his immortal? children Bruce does age and it terrifies them. And Bruce is young he’s in his early 30s but like his knees will crack a little or his back is slightly stiff after a bad patrol and it just sends them into a spiral because they cannot fathom their dad not being around forever. I can definitely imagine them trying to strong arm Bruce into becoming some flavor of unaging. You could go super dark or just more generally emotional angst but damn the possibilities.

-Cass is giving me shadow person. Very cryptid of her. I’m not sure that I have a clear backstory for her worked out yet. Either magic gone wrong or she’s another flavor of undead like Jason and Tim. I like to imagine she just hovers over people at night to be creepy.

-Originally I wanted to say Duke was a Will-o-the-wisp. But I’m not really sure it fits, especially since he’s primarily active during the day. Then it hit me. Mothman. My lamplight boy is a moth creature. I like the idea of him hiding his little antenna under a beany and wearing sunglasses. The wings would be difficult. But my boy is creative.

- I think Steph and Barbara are also human like Bruce they just are extra bad ass.

-Coming back to life as a magical creature warps peoples memories and emotions from both the trauma and changing into something not human. Tim is significantly less effected than Jason, at least outwardly, because he was only a toddler when he died so he didn’t have many memories or experiences to draw from, but Jason was super volatile. His memories surrounding Willis became even more dark while his memories of his mother sort of glossed over her absentee parenting and drug use. Jason can’t help but struggle with associating the negative learned experience he had with his first paternal figure with Bruce. Jason ends up going to live with Talia for a while because he doesn’t want to feel that way about his dad anymore.

-Basically I think Jason, at least mentally, is the most human of Bruce’s kids besides Damian because he actually lived a life as a human, where as Tim changed so young that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but his extremely disturbing self.

-I think Gotham just has major ‘I do not see it’ energy. Like The Batfamily? Demons from hell. The Wayne’s? Hot neurodivergent people. Did you see Dick Grayson unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake at a gala? No you didn’t he just has a really big smile. Jason Todd??? Has scales??? Nope actually he just developed early onset Eczema and he’s really self conscious about it how dare you! Tim Drake sucking the blood of the himbo blonde boy? Everyone knows Tim and Bernard are total freaks. Cassandra Cain is your sleep paralysis demon? Honestly fair.

-It’s totally a coincidence that strange misfortune befalls anyone who threatens the Wayne’s!

-Clark is Bruce’s favorite man to sleep on so he gets a pass. I don’t know why but a midwestern spin on the story of princess kaguya lives in my head rent free. Like Martha Kent is just shucking corn and then boom baby in the corn. We call that children of the corn. I still love to imagine him being like so perfect that it’s high key alien, but his little sharp nails and fangies! Maybe even slightly pointy ears. And like Clark fully thinks he is human, like his parents don’t tell him humans can’t fly until he’s in kindergarten, and even then they just tell him he is special and learned super fast and shouldn’t embarrass the other kids and Clark is such a Good BoyTM that he just never uses his powers in public cause he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Like bro doesn’t learn he is adopted until he is about to go to college, he is just straight up clueless.

-Clark learns Dick is a Fae creature when Batman brings Robin to the Watchtower cause he couldn’t get a baby sitter and Alfred doing some spooky shit like dusting the mausoleum. Like Batman just slinking around but there is this super colorful child with him. And then Dick turns and smiles and it’s just so wrong, like his mouth just stretching his face like some horror movie shit. Clark almost shots himself cause like what the fuck. Bruce told Dick to just ‘be himself’ so like he just thinks he’s being friendly. Despite being creepy as all hell Clark kinda thinks Dick is super adorable. Like was he spider crawling around the floor with all his limbs bent the wrong way while Bruce and Clark were talking? Yeah but then he just tugged on Bruce’s cape to ask for a juice box, like that’s a baby.

-Jason freaked him out in a different way. Since Jason is undead he doesn’t have a heartbeat and doesn’t need to breath so when he isn’t moving he makes literally zero noise. When he first met Clark he was just watching him from around corners and behind stair banisters and Clark was convinced he was losing his mind and hallucinating the kid from the Grudge. Then Bruce is just like “Oh you met Jason! He’s so sweet, just a little shy. He’s my second oldest! I think he likes you though.” And then a little grey blue slightly webbed hand just reaches around the corner to give a little wave and boom Clark would kill for him.

-Tim is similar in that Clark has trouble pinpointing his location because of a lack of normal bodily functions, but Tim has no idea what a boundary is. So like at first he’s a shy little toddler and then that night he’s crawling all over Clark and pranking him nonstop.

-Damian is a baby but like Clark looked in his eyes and just felt like this infant could see his past present and future and was judging him heavily. Clark was relieved cause at least he had a heartbeat.

-Cass lives to fuck with Clark. She’s Jason’s age but not only has no heartbeat and doesn’t breath, when she is in shadow form he can’t see her with X-ray vision. She can literally make herself undetectable to Superman. He learns this one night sleeping in a guest room at the manor. He gets the feeling he is being watched but can’t find anyone. Then right when he relaxes her arm shoots out from the darkness under his bed and grabs his leg. Clark screams so loud it cracks the window. And then just nearly silent muffled laughter as the arm retreats into the darkness. He X-Ray visions but nothing is there. He demands to stay in Bruce’s room after that. Bruce is just like “Oh that was just Cass. She likes playing practical jokes, she is my little princess!”

#batfam #bruce wayne #jason todd #batman #dick grayson #damian wayne #dc batman #tim drake #red hood #nightwing #red robin #robin #fae!dick #Fae!batfam #Folklore!batfam #freaks all of them #but like hot freaks

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months

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Playing Hooky

Requested by @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression

Synopsis: What happens when Sam and Dean catch you skipping school?

“Oh gosh, get down!” You ducked behind a clothing rack, and your two friends stared down at you, confusion contorting their features.

“Um…why?” Y/F/N asked.

“Too late,” you groaned.

Your big brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, had spotted you. They did not look happy.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you could hear the anger behind Dean’s sarcastic tone. He turned to your two friends. “If you two know what’s good for you, you’ll scram, and stay in school next time.”

Your friends glanced at you, and you nodded. No sense in them getting in trouble because of you. They shrugged apologetically and rushed out of the store, sparing a quick glance back at your big brothers, who had turned their full attention to you.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing here?” Dean growled, and you winced. You didn’t expect him to be this angry.

“Shopping?” You ducked your gaze, kicking one foot at the floor awkwardly

He scoffed, “Don’t try to be cute. You shouldn’t be here, we’ve talked about this.”

You looked up at him.

“We have?” He didn’t really talk about school much with you, in fact he rarely seemed to care about whether you went.

“Kid, c’mon, no hunting. You’re too young.”

“Wait, hunting? I’m not hunting.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Right, so what exactly are you doing in the store that three people have died in?”

You gaped, “Are you kidding? I’m just shopping, I didn’t know-“

“Yeah, right.”

You glared at him.

“Dean, I’m serious. You guys never mentioned anything, I didn’t even know we had a job right now! I thought we were in between hunts.”

Dean frowned.

“Wait, so you were just…what, playing hooky? To shop?”

You breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t mad about the skipping, he thought you were on a hunt.

“Yeah, seriously. Total coincidence.”

Dean shrugged, “Alright.”

Sam glared at him, “I’m sorry, alright?”

“What? At least she isn’t hunting!”

“Yeah, but she should be in school!”

Dean seemed inclined to agree with him, so you jumped in before they could team up on you.

“Why?”

Dean snapped his attention back to you.

“What?”

You huffed,

“I said, why? What does it matter, I’m just gonna be a hunter anyway.”

“You don’t know that,” Sam insisted.

“Getting out of it doesn’t really seem like an option,” you scoffed. “Besides, I want to.”

“Maybe now,” Dean said, “But you might change your mind one day. And if you do, a high school degree is gonna be helpful.”

You shook your head, “No one gets out of this life. I could be spending my time training, or hunting! School is just a waste.”

“That’s not true,” Sam interrupted.

“Which part?” You stared defiantly up at him.

“Any of it,” Sam placed his hand on your shoulder. “If you want to do something else, you can.”

“I don’t.”

Sam sighed, and you knew he was disappointed. The two of you weren’t alike at all; he was desperate to get away from the life, and you were almost certain that he was going to, one way or another. But still, even though you weren’t alike, you generally got along. But not about this.

“Look,” Dean interrupted, sensing that Sam had no more to offer you. “It doesn’t matter. We’re doing our jobs, hunting. Sometimes it sucks, but we do it anyway. That’s our job. And your job, right now, is to finish school. You may not like it, I know it can suck, but it’s your job. I need you to do yours so that I can do mine without worrying about you. Understand?”

You sighed.

“Fine, I get it.”

Dean clapped a hand on your shoulder and smirked.

“Good. Now c’mon, I’ll take you back to class.” He turned to leave, and you grabbed Sam’s arm before he could follow him.

“Yeah?” He looked down at you.

“Thanks, I guess.”

He smiled a little, “For what?”

You shrugged.

“Caring about what I want. Maybe you’re right, I mean, I could change my mind. I guess finishing high school could help if I do.”

Sam laughed softly, “Yeah, yeah it will.” He swung an arm around your shoulder and guided you out, still several feet behind Dean. “I know school isn’t that great for you, but I’m proud of you for sticking to it. You won’t regret it, I swear.”

You leaned into him with a smile.

“Yeah, ok. Thanks Sammy.”

“Any time, kid.”

…

“So…am I in trouble?”

Dean’s voice rang out from in front of you.

“Oh, definitely.”

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rebouks · 2 months

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Robin: Grandma! Sidney: Hi, honey. Robin: Hi. Sidney: Watcha doing?

[Robin wasn’t sure anymore, but he needed to ask something. He wasn’t used to talking to his grandmother though-.. even though he could, it always felt weird and forced. He decided he’d probably just have to be blunt]

Robin: Can I ask you something? Sidney: Shoot. Robin: Can we keep it a secret? I don’t want mom n’ dad to know I asked… Sidney: I can keep a secret.

[Sidney found a sheltered spot behind a rock and patted the sand beside her; Robin had barely taken a seat before launching his question at his grandmother, catching her off guard]

Robin: Has papa ever died-.. or come close?

[Sidney blinked, blindsided by Robin’s question]

Robin: I wanna know the truth too, like.. don’t do that thing grown-ups do n’ coat everything in syrup. Sidney: You really want the non-sugar-coated version..? Robin: Yeah.

[Sidney squinted at Robin, unsure how to proceed. He could tell she didn’t think it was her place to tell him]

Sidney: Why haven’t you asked your father? Robin: I don’t want to. Sidney: He’d tell you, if you asked-.. he’d be grateful for it too. Robin: Grateful? Why?

[Sidney sucked her teeth and buried her hands in the sand for a moment, thinking]

Sidney: Your dad and I never saw eye to eye when he was young, sometimes we still don’t-.. he didn’t trust me enough to talk to me, and I didn’t bother asking, or fixing it. It’s caused a lot of problems between us, so I think he’d appreciate you trusting him enough to ask. Robin: It’ll upset him though. Sidney: Well, tough-.. he can’t hide his past from you forever, he should know by now it always comes n’ bites you on the ass eventually.

[Robin frowned, feeling defensive on behalf of his father]

Robin: He wanted to tell me. Sidney: You’ve already asked?

[Robin shook his head, earning himself a confused look from Sidney; everything was so hard to explain when you had to tiptoe around the truth]

Robin: I want you to tell me. Sidney: I’ll tell you on one condition-.. you ask him about it too. He’ll have my guts for garters if he knew I’d told you and kept it from him. I can’t keep this particular secret, I’m afraid. Robin: Fine.

[Sidney shook her head and sighed; she couldn’t believe she’d been talked into this nonsense by a ten-year-old]

Sidney: Yes, he almost died-.. technically he did, but that’s just a medical thing, I suppose. Robin: Did you save him? Sidney: No.. I was there, but I couldn’t. Robin: Why not? Sidney: I just couldn’t do it; I was a mess! You can’t imagine how it felt, seeing him-…

[Sidney cut herself off, not wanting to go too far-.. but Robin didn’t need to imagine how it felt, he could feel it too. He quickly swallowed the lump in his throat, desperate to know more before his brain imploded with unanswered questions and half-truths]

Robin: What happened? How’d he end up like that? Sidney: Well… Robin: I know about the bad stuff he used to do-.. he drank a lot, was it that? It was in a bar or something, right? Sidney: He’s told you about that?

[Robin shrugged; his father had only alluded to such things, but Sidney didn’t need to know that, nor did she need to know what Larry had inadvertently shown him]

Sidney: Oscar had a lot of issues with drugs and alcohol when he was younger-.. it almost got the better of him that night, I think he just went too far by accident. Robin: So, it wasn’t on purpose? Sidney: Not exactly. Robin: What do you mean? Sidney: He knew the risks-.. but you really shouldn’t be asking about this sort of thing, honey. Robin: Just ‘cause I’m little doesn’t mean I can’t understand.

[Sidney chuckled; the apple certainly didn’t fall far from the tree. Robin was just as headstrong and persistent as his father]

Sidney: Maybe not, but you should be climbing trees and thinking about what’s for pudding-.. don’t worry yourself about all this stuff too much. Not yet, at least. Robin: It’s hard not to-.. did he get better after what happened? Sidney: For a while, then he got worse, then he got better again-.. go n’ talk to him, he’ll make you feel better about what happened. He’s had a good handle on himself for a while now; since before you were born, if I’m not mistaken. Robin: That’s a long time. Sidney: It sure is. Robin: It never really leaves though, does it? Not completely.

[Sidney hesitated briefly, surprised by the depth of Robin’s understanding]

Sidney: No, not really. Robin: Okay, thanks.

[Sidney yanked Robin back into the sand before he could run off]

Sidney: Don’t make me be the one to tell him about this-.. you talk to him, you hear me? Robin: I hear you… Sidney: You better! Don’t think I won’t make sure.

[Robin nodded, hastily escaping Sidney’s grasp, and her intensity. He had no choice now; if grandma Sid said she meant business, she damn well meant it]

Previous // Next

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yuesya · 5 months

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“Who’s Shiki?”

Gojo Satoru stares, confused as Suguru-who’s-not-Suguru makes a hitched, strangled sort of sound in his throat. He tilts his head –he’s never heard of a ‘Shiki’ before, but going by the other man’s reaction, Shiki was someone important.

Why?

Probably something to do with the differences between our worlds. That much is not particularly difficult to deduce, really. But the reaction of this Geto Suguru from another world to Satoru’s complete lack of recognition to ‘Shiki’ felt strange, somehow, like it was significant in a way he couldn’t quite name–

“… What are you talking about?” The other sorcerer’s voice sounds shaken. “You… you don’t know Shiki? She’s your sister!”

His what.

Satoru’s jaw drops open. “I have a what now?”

A sister? Him? Gojo Satoru is pretty sure that he’s an only child; a sibling sounds like something he would know about!

He’s fantasized about having younger siblings during his childhood, sure. The Gojo Clan was a cold, cold place, and people only ever saw the Honored One and not Satoru. Even his own parents. Gojo Muneyoshi only ever occupied himself with how Satoru’s lessons and training were coming along, and Gojo Sachie only cared for the status that Satoru brought to the family and nothing else. The other children in the clan either avoided him out of awe and fear, or tried to suck up to him. Satoru didn’t make any friends until entering Jujutsu High, and… the less said about that, the better.

(Why was I not enough to make you stay, Suguru?)

If Satoru had a younger sibling –knowing his parents, he doubts that they would pay any attention to them. There was only ever one user of both Limitless and Six Eyes at a time, so they wouldn’t have the same pressure that Satoru carried on his shoulders pressing upon them. The elders wouldn’t watch them as closely as they did Satoru.

If Satoru had a younger sibling, then they would be his. As a child, Satoru had so very badly wanted a friend and confidant and someone who would always, always be with them. It didn’t matter if they were a sorcerer or not. He’d just wanted–

But Gojo Satoru was the only son of Gojo Muneyoshi and Gojo Sachie.

“Gojo Sachie?” Suguru makes a funny sort of twitch. Satoru instantly hones in on that odd reaction. “… So your father remarried?”

Satoru frowns, “Not that I’m aware of, no? I was born to Gojo Muneyoshi and Gojo Sachie. I’m guessing that’s not the case in your world?”

That would explain the existence of a younger sister, at least–

“It’s not,” Suguru confirms. “In my world, you and Shiki were born to Gojo Muneyoshi and Gojo Hina.”

Gojo Hina?

Satoru stills. That name…

There is a shrine that Muneyoshi keeps inside his home. A shrine to Gojo Hina, and Satoru remembers overhearing an argument between his parents once about it –something about Muneyoshi not being able to ‘let go’ of his ‘first love,’ and Satoru had lost all interest in the conversation by that point.

It might be nothing. But…

“As far as I’m aware,” Suguru continues, “Gojo Hina died shortly after you and Shiki were born.”

Okay, that somewhat matches up, then–

–hang on. Satoru does not have a good feeling about where this is headed. “After Shiki and I were born?”

“Well, yes. The two of you are twins.”

Twins.

Twin children. In sorcery clans, twins were a curse. Even though it shouldn’t matter in the case of fraternal twins, but if one child was born the Honored One and the other child wasn’t, if the Gojo Clan refused to take any chances–

Then–

An icy chill runs down Satoru’s spine. It’s been a long time since he’s last felt this way.

Did I have a twin sister?

… The air is cold. It has nothing to do with the weather, or Satoru’s current lack of a jacket in the winter weather.

#Writing #zenith of stars au #twin cannons au #and after this gojo is going to hunt down his father for a long overdue conversation #:D

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jasntodds · 5 months

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Broken Heart Of Gold [J.T.]

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Request: yes, here

Summary: After Jason messes up on a mission, he goes to you

Warnings: Swearing, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, self-deprecating thoughts (jason), mentions of previous homelessness, mentions of death

Words: 2,514

A/n: I was listening to You Are Enough by Citizen Soldier and Broken Heart Of Gold by One OK Rock so here we are lol I also have another fic similar to this here because I will write this concept a million times if no one stops me. If you wanna be tagged in my fics, you can click the link below, send me an ask/comment, or follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

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He’s been doing this for years. He was just thirteen when he first put on the Robin suit. And it was magical.

Being Robin always made Jason feel like he was magic. He was invincible and strong and worthy and enough and important. He had a purpose. For so much of his life, he was the one taking care of his mom and then she died. She died and it left him cold and alone and on the streets. But Robin brought him importance and safety and warmth. Being Robin meant he lived in a home where he was cared for and never asked to care for them. Not that he ever minded caring for his mom because he never did. But it was nice not having to take care of himself, even if he always did anyway. Being Robin gave him freedom and he got to kick ass. He got to go out there and he got to help Batman bring down some of the worst of the worst. He was enough and important. And worthy. But he wasn’t invincible. Because the Joker killed him.

He died and that was that. Robin wasn’t magic or invincible. Robin was just some kid in a mask and cape. But, then a betrayal to death and fate happened and Jason’s alive again. He came back and became Red Hood because the Joker was alive and well, Bruce had a new Robin, and the world left Jason behind.

He came back and it’s as if he wasn’t even wanted. He became Red Hood for people like him. The ones left behind. The ones Bruce won’t help in the way he should. Jason became Red Hood, knowing this life only leads to pain and death, to do what Bruce is too cowardly to do. He became Red Hood to be the voice for all the victims like him. That could have been saved if the hard choices were just made but weren’t. He is their voice and their protector. So, he’s been doing this for years. And the missions that go south, still never get any easier.

There’s a loud thud coming from your window, snapping you from your shallow sleep on the couch. You sit up quickly, your head slightly spinning with the sudden movement and you look over to your window, seeing the reflective red helmet shining back at you in the low light of the city and your apartment.

Jason takes the helmet, a mild quiver to his fingertips. “Sorry.” Jason mutters. “Did I wake you?”

You shake your head, moving to your knees so you can get a better look at him. “No, I was just lying down.” You lie, knowing he hates waking you up and you hadn’t been asleep more than twenty minutes anyway.

“That’s good.” Jason clears his throat but he hasn’t made any attempt to get up off the floor or make direct eye contact with you.

It’s all feeling heavy. His head, his eyes, his limps. Everything around him feels like it’s starting to close in. The adrenaline is crashing and everything feels like it’s about to suck the last breath from his lungs. It all hurts and aches and he usually handles it well, the injuries just come with the territory. He’s used to the pain but then nights like tonight happen and everything hurts. Every passed injury is echoing in pain, coming back for vengeance. The autopsy scars burn even though they shouldn’t, his face feels numb even though those injuries have been long healed from the pit. Every haunted injury comes back with a shattering echo.

“Jay?” You ask softly, trying to get him to look at you.

Usually, when Jason comes back from patrol, he's injured in some capacity. But, most of the time, he has this grin anyway that could light up Gotham's darkest alleyways. It's always a little cheeky and always a little arrogant. And charming. Because he went out and he did something good, for people who can't help themselves. His eyes are usually bright, blue and bold with enough energy to power your apartment. Those are the times he usually comes to you but then sometimes, like tonight, it's like every ghost comes back and takes over. The light is gone from his eyes and it's as if he's physically incapable of managing even a fake reassuring smile. It's these nights that are always the most worrisome because you know Jason has a habit of beating himself up relentlessly when something bad happens.

For a second, he’s not sure why he showed up here. You always clean him up and stitch him up. You’ve been doing it since he was Robin. A routine because you always understood when he needed to talk or sit in silence. But tonight, he’s not even feeling like he’s worthy of the kindness that radiates from your unbroken bones. He doesn’t think he deserves the help you always offer and the understanding because he failed tonight. And it was his fault. It was so bad that his jaw clenches as his heart starts to thunder.

"Are you okay?" You keep your voice soft, just above a whisper as if speaking too loudly will shatter him entirely.

His breath hitches in his throat with the question. He nearly shatters into a billion pieces right into your carpet. Jason Todd, on a good day, is rarely ever really okay but tonight it’s so much worse. He’s trapped in a harsh reality of what he does every night and he’s trapped in his own head, haunted by every passed mistake he’s ever made. Is he doing the right thing? Is this the only way? Is Bruce right? Maybe he is fucked up and maybe he never should have been brought back. Maybe those people would be alive right now if it weren’t for him.

Jason swallows his own heartbeat, a task that feels more like swallowing river rocks. "Yeah, I'm fine." His words are short and brittle while a redness starts to wash over his eyes.

You nod slowly before you get up from your spot on the couch. Jason watches you carefully and he knows you’re about to offer him the care he swears up and down he does not deserve. You crouch in front of him, resting your hands on his knees. Jason nearly pulls away but he knows it would hurt you if he did and he doesn’t want to cause anyone else any more pain. Not tonight.

“You don’t look fine.” You say softly as you tilt your head to the right. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jason nods as his mouth runs dry. “A few places.”

“Okay so I’ll get the kit and you can move the couch.”

“You don’t have to fucking help, alright? I don’t know why I came here.” Jason huffs but it's weak and ragged, forced as if speaking is too much of a task.

“You always come to me for help, Jay.” Your voice is kind and gentle as your thumbs lightly run over his knees.

“I know but I’ve already stained your carpet and couch. It’s late and you have work. I’ll just go home. It’s fine.” Jason shakes his head, his eyes plastered where your hands meet his knees.

“I don’t mind.” You shrug as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Taking care of you, I mean. It doesn’t bother me.” You offer him a soft smile once he glances up to you. “And Alfred told me how to get the stains out so…you really wanna use that as an excuse or you gonna let him help you?”

Jason lets out a sigh. “I don’t know.” There's a quiver in his voice.

You tap his head lightly with your finger, Jason's eyes finally locking on yours. "What's going on up there?"

You were on the streets together before he got lucky, well, depending how you want to look at it. You've known him for years and Jason has always been the one who wants better for people, Robin and Red Hood just gave him the opportunity to actually help those people. But, with that, he's also been the person who doesn't really know his worth or believes he's enough. A lot of things have happened, a lot of people have come and gone to nail those thoughts into the deepest parts of his mind. Those are always the thoughts that tend to be the ones that stick, even if they aren't true and you know they aren't.

You know Jason has a heart of gold and always has, always will. He thinks dying charged a part of that because sometimes, it feels like he should still be dead. So, he beats his heart out of his chest until he shatters into pieces, the shards always ricocheting back at him. He breaks his own heart because he thinks he deserves it, scattering the pieces in hopes the pain will always be true to what he deserves. But, you come around and pick up the pieces anyway because you always knew he was enough and worthy and important. You always knew that Jason would do what was best, for him and for other people who needed help.

"I got a damn cipher wrong and I was too late." Jason's voice finally cracks, his words harsh and aimed at himself.

His eyes always turn to almost a navy blue whenever he starts crying. It doesn't happen often, at least not around you, but you notice it. It's as if the emotional turmoil takes over every part of him stripping him of the liviness he usually has and that includes the brightness of his eyes. And it breaks your heart every time.

Jason has always had a thing about not being enough. He wasn't enough for either of his parents to stop using or enough for his dad to stick around, get a legal job. He wasn't enough for Bruce. A lot of people have tried over the years for him and tried with good intentions to just genuinely help because he deserved to be happy and healthy and safe but for some reason, it was never enough. Something else would happen and it'd mess it all up and the only one who ever got hurt in the mess was Jason. He's mentioned, a handful of times, maybe it was just him. Destined to like this forever. But you never saw it that way.

"I'm sorry, Jay." You brush the white streak of hair out of his eyes. "Do you wanna talk about it?" You ask, your brows pulled together.

You never saw him as not enough or damaged. He's an asshole, sure, but he's also kind and forgiving. He just wants to help people. Even when you were kids, questioning where your next meal was coming from, he'd try to help other kids if he could. It's what he did. It's what he does. You found out he was Robin and all you could do was laugh because the whole vigilante thing really fit him. Maybe not the way Bruce wanted things done, but helping people who the GCPD can't or won't help. But, even beyond being a vigilante, he's your favorite person. And you wouldn't trade him for the entire world. You desperately wish he could see himself through your eyes. Maybe it would help on nights like tonight.

"No." Jason scoffs, shaking his head. "No, I don't wanna talk or think about it anymore."

"Okay." You shrug casually, knowing he'll talk in bits and pieces later. "So, why don't we get you cleaned up and stitched up then we lay down. We can watch something or I can read to you until you fall asleep. Your choice." You offer him a gentle and kind smile.

"I don't wanna keep you up later. You'll be late for work again." Jason huffs, guilty pulling at the pit of his stomach.

You shrug, giving him a cheeky grin. "Eh, yeah, I can take some PTO." Your face suddenly lights up. "What if I take PTO and we go to Petsmart tomorrow, pick up some food and we go see the kittens at the shelter? If we bring in food, we can hang out with them for a little while."

The excitement in your voice gets Jason to crack a small and fragile smile. You know how much he likes cats. It's a silly offer, maybe, but it is nice and Jason will never understand why you try to hard to make him feel better, even when he thinks he doesn't deserve it. But, he does know, he is thankful for you anyway,

"That's how you wanna spend your precious time off?" Jason's voice is rough this time but it doesn't crack.

"With you and like twenty kittens? Yes." You nod quickly. "And I think you need it, anyway." Your smile falls into something comforting and honest. It feels like home. "Hanging out with animals is good for your mental health."

"Really?" Jason raises a brow at you.

"Oh, are you gonna tell me you're not beating yourself up and thinking you're the worst? You're not. I think you're the best but I know you well enough to know you don't think so when something happens." You suck in a breath, your hands sliding over his knees a few times. "So, we go hang out with some kittens and you'll feel a little better to tell me what happened and then I'll tell you that you still did your best."

"How do you even know that?" Jason scoffs, dodging your eyes again as the guilt starts pulling on his vocal cords.

"Because you always try your best." You answer simply. "It's not always easy, Jay and it's not always gonna work out. But, you always try and that's enough." You place your hand on his cheek, getting him to look at you. "So, what'd ya say?" The corner of your mouth perks up into a gentle and hopeful smile.

The last thing he wants to do is disappoint you, let someone else down. But, he also knows, deep down, that you do it because you care and you really believe everything you tell him. All you want to do is be there for him and maybe it does take some of the weight off of his shoulders. When he's carrying the world, you stand under it with him. And when he's taking a hammer to his own heart, you yank the hammer away and swap it out with glue, helping him put it back together. And on nights like tonight, he's not sure where he'd up if it weren't for you.

Jason nods softly, taking your hand in his. "Yeah, alright, thanks." Jason leans closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"Of course, Jay." You press a quick kiss to his nose. "Now, come on, lemme help you." You get to your feet and offer your hands to help Jason up.

He shakes his head, his chest still feeling heavy but knowing you'll always be here makes things easier. So, he sticks out of his own hands and encompasses yours in his before he stands up.

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #requests #request

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r3starttt · 3 months

Text

Ditto

a/n: part two of don’t delete the kisses! this whole story is based on me atp 🙁 I love new jeans and the song felt right so…

Prt.1 | Prt.3 | Prt.4

Warnings: mentions of suicide. very cliche and cheesy. fluff.

“I got nothing to lose. Stay in the middle. I like you a little”

If pain must come, may it come quickly.

Because I have a life to live, and I need

to live it in the best way possible.

If she has to make a choice, may she

make it now. Then I will either

wait for her or forget her.

You’d died some years ago, one day after your birthday to be specific. You’d left your family, friends and girlfriend with no previous warning, so suddenly that everyone that knew you broke into so many pieces when receiving the news.

Everyone felt so off, so confused. How could you be laughing with everyone just some hours before simply stop existing? Why didn’t you ask for help? How long had you planned the whole thing? How did all of this even work?

It was no surprise to anyone that you weren’t the most healthiest girl, but how did nobody ever notice that you weren’t good that day?

Your parents couldn’t stop blaming themselves, the rest of your family could not stop crying for months after you left, your friends couldn’t deal with school knowing you wouldn’t be there and your girlfriend, she felt so sick. She felt like maybe she should also try, just to be with you. She felt physically weak at your lost.

And if it wasn’t for the letters you left before doing what you did, if it wasn’t for your parents and their love for you, if it wasn’t for your girlfriend and the respect she’d always had for you. She would’ve probably done it.

“Mom, dad. I love you both with my entire heart. Words cannot describe it.

And I’m so sorry I left.

I have one las thing to ask you, please take care of Ellie.

Please be nice with my friends and take care of them like I did.

Please support on Ellie and let her support on you.

Please forgive me. I promise we’ll meet again.

Tons of love, your daughter.”

Those were the last phrases written on the letters you’d left for your parents. You’d planned everything for so long. And yes it sucked that you left but for you it was the best. You died so peacefully and made sure everyone knew.

You made sure everyone would move on.

And so they did.

And so you did.

You were born again. This time it was a pretty normal life, just you and your mom, some friends from school and that was it. But the more you grew up the more things started to get more complicated.

You’d had the most beautiful dreams about a freckled girl whose name was El, she had the most pretty smile you’d ever seen. And those dreams were so continuous, you’d have them every day. There were many pieces left but the general context was there, and honestly you felt like it wasn’t necessary, it all felt just too familiar.

You’d find out that El was actually Ellie, she loved dogs until one bit her and she never ever wanted to get a pet, until you got cats so she begged her dad to get her one. Everyone called you Mel so you just assumed that was your name. And Ellie was definitely your best friend.

But those dreams became nightmares, or at least that’s the feeling you got whenever you woke up. Ellie was always there, but you felt sad, you felt empty and annoyed all the time. And it felt so real.

You’d cry in your sleep and your mom would always come to your room to wake you up, but you never explained to her what was it. You had the feeling you shouldn’t tell her.

And it all made sense the moment you turned eleven. They weren’t dreams or nightmares, just your past life. And it made you feel sick because of everything that had happened.

It wasn’t your only memory, not even your only life. But that’s the one that came first to your mind.

And how could you just ignore it all when it felt incomplete? When you still remembered every detail of it and when you remembered all the promises you made to Ellie but couldn’t accomplish?

You had the same taste as her, same interests too, so your plan was to get to college with her, graduate together and then travel around the world together. Become rich together, have lots of cats and if you’d convince her, make a family.

But the heart is way more powerful than the mind, and it all stayed like that, like a dream some teens in love made one day.

From that age on your life had changed completely. Good grades without trying, thanks to all the previous knowledge, smarter than the rest of your classmates and more mature of course.

You did anything to search for Ellie, to understand why was she so important. Turns out she was the privileged one in this life, or that’s what it looked like since she’d go to the most prestigious schools. Roles this time were kinda inverted, or maybe it was just a coincidence.

There was nothing you could do to find her, at least not at that age. She lived far from you and attended to schools you could never afford.

So the only thing you could do was live your life as a normal person, grow up and find a way to get close to her.

And that’s what you did. You forgot she existed during most college, you were stresses and doing homework or studying all the time. Working on projects, doing exams.

You just didn’t had time to think on anything else. But it was worth it because that allowed you to get your dream job, and eventually your dream life.

“God, baby, I’m gonna miss you so much” your mom opened her arms, waiting for you to hug her. You practically run to her, she smelled so good, and she was always warm, how comfortable, how comforting “you’re sure you don’t want my help with building stuff?” right, you’d just moved to a not so small apartment.

“I promise mom, I’ll find a way to make it work” she kissed your forehead gently, laughing at the lipstick mark left on it “I’ll clean it, don’t worry” you stopped her hands before she’d try to clean it with her saliva “I hope you learn to value your mother once you see how hard it’s to be an adult”

“Oh stop the drama! you know I love you” now you were the one hugging her, tightly as if it was the last time you’d do it “Call me if you need anything, you know time never matters Mhm?” you nodded.

The moment your mom left and you closed the door you took a deep breath, because maybe you should’ve said yes.

There were at least 10 boxes displayed in the whole apartment. You didn’t even know what it was. The bed was already there, so was the couch and a huge tv, what else did you need and why had you bought so many things for the apartment?

“Fuck me”

You had a big body yes, but not strong at all. And yes you were smart, but not enough to understand the fucking instructions that came with everything you had to build for probably the next whole week.

It was late at night already, probably around 10pm, and so far you’d only managed to build your desk. You were currently sitting on the cold wooden floor as you ate some shitty ramen you’d bought thinking it would taste amazing. It didn’t and was stupidly spicy.

Your fingers were moving all over your phone, scrolling trough Pinterest and then trough Instagram and changing the same two apps over and over again until you finished eating.

All your lights were off but the light coming from the outside thanks to the huge windows was more than enough to illuminate the whole place. There was a small balcony right in front of the windows so you went outside, taking advantage of every place of the building since it costs almost too much for what it offers.

So you stay outside, resting your arms on the railing as you kept on scrolling through the same apps, looking for more inspiration for the apartment. Until you realize what you’d have to deal for the rest of your stance there.

A guitar being played coming from the apartment right next to yours. You sigh in annoyance because whoever is playing is not even good at it an you’ll probably have to listen to the same song until they learn how to play it.

“She wanted a band…” Ellie, your girlfriend, your best friend, the girl you broke her heart once, she wanted to become a singer, until you, her best friend, the girl she liked so much, told her how much she sucked at it. So stubbornly she quit and told everyone how it was your fault.

A sigh escaped out of your mouth, was it worth the try? would Ellie even fall for you again? was she even single? was she even your Ellie?

You’re so stupid.

The loud buzzing accompanied with a not so relaxing song wakes you up. 8 am in the morning, too early for a day of doing nothing-well, making your apartment look pretty.

You turn off the alarm and stare at the ceiling in pure silence for probably the next ten minutes.

It has been a week since you’d arrived the building. At this point you were already getting used to someone playing the guitar at night, you’d even go outside to hear the progress.

Back to today’s day. It all goes as what has become your new normal. You’d had the most non healthy breakfast and then you’d start to put together a new piece of furniture.

Today it was the last day of it actually, the only thing left was a small shelf that wouldn’t take much time.

And that could only mean one thing, today was the day you had to finally take out all the thrash.

So once you finished you lazily walked trough the whole apartment. Picking and folding boxes, and panicking over the exaggerated amount of plastic that came with the wrapping of all the furniture you’d bought.

You put all together so you didn’t had to go in and out of the building more than once and went outside your apartment, walking towards the elevator and sighing in pure relief because it was thankfully empty.

But things can’t be perfect because the moment you placed everything on the floor to throw them separately in the huge trash containers in front of you, the plastic started to fly away due to the weather.

Fucking unnecessary air.

Before you actually panicked a hand grabbed the huge piece of bubbly plastic, extending her arm back to you “need any help?”

Blessed necessary air.

Maybe your face looked as shocked as you felt because the very gorgeous Ellie standing in front of you tilted her head slightly, probably confused.

“Uhh yeah, thanks” you noticed how she had a tattoo on her right arm, she was wearing a pair of black jeans, some dirty converse and a white tank top under a baby blue plaid shirt-Were you staring too much?

“You just moved in?” she put the plastic under her arms and threw a small plastic bag on one of the containers “Mhm, a week ago” she nodded, awkwardly “I thought I was loud”

“Not at all, well, it’s probably the apartments, they’re kinda sound proof or something” you placed the last box on the container, meeting her eyes. They’re just as pretty as you remember.

“Really? I’ve been hearing this guitar all week at night, I don’t think they’re good if that’s the case” your two walked towards the building again, a small awkward smile forming on her face.

“Yeah…. that’s me, I thought no one could hear me. Sorry”

That changes all, suddenly the guitar is not annoying at all, in fact, you’re waiting for listening to it every night.

“Don’t worry it’s fine just… never mind” and then there was pure silence between the two of you as you walked inside the building.

“I promise I won’t be so loud” she was playing with her fingers “It’s fine, really. Im used to it by now” there were som loosen hair strands covering her face, she was looking down, probably ashamed “It’s the only free time I have to practice, I’ll try to to it earlier”

The elevator opened, she extended her arm so you would go inside first

“Its your house, feel free to do whatever you want, it doesn’t bother me el”

Fuck

“You know my name?” she panicked, maybe it was someone she knew but didn’t remembered?

“Mhm?” Play dumb, it always work

“You said el, did I hear wrong?”

“Yeah, probably” you clicked to the floor where you both lived at, turning your head towards her “Is that your name then?”

“No, actually, it’s Ellie. Ellie Williams” she extended her hand to you, she’s so cute, you thought. You did the same, shaking hands as you told her your name.

“Is it okay if I call you El then?” please say yes “yeah, I don’t mind it”

The moment you got in your apartment you wanted to scream. She was even prettier than what you remembered.

Your head kept on repeating the small conversation you just had with her, over and over again.

You decided to go to her apartment next day. being new in the building has its advantages, like casually gift her some food to maybe apologize for how loud you’d been even though you weren’t, or to thank her for being such a nice neighbor today, or any reason that gives you the chance to see her again.

There it is, Ellie’s guitar, at its usual hour.

You had just finished cleaning all the dishes you used for dinner. Fucking adult life. And were laying on the couch, scrolling trough social media.

Until you hear her of course.

Discretely you stood up from the couch, walking with your bare foot to the big cristal door that leaded to the balcony and getting outside, just like you did when you just arrived.

Hands resting on the cold railing, head resting on your wrists and Ellie’s guitar playing right next to you. This time one of the windows were open, she’d done it on purpose, didn’t she felt ashamed for being so loud- or maybe you’re exaggerating every interaction with her and overthinking everything that’s related to her.

The doorbell rings three times. 10 am. Too early.

A loud groan escapes from her mouth and she covers herself with her gray hoodie. She freezes the moment she steps out of bed because there’s only a pair of sorts covering her legs. Who the fuck is looking for her?

Maybe it was a bad idea to stay later at night playing the guitar for the pretty girl living next to her. She’s freezing, sleepy and exaggerated tired.

Or maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Oh…. did I wake you up? I’m so sorry” because there you are, standing right outside her door “Do I look so bad?” she chuckled, rubbing her eyes “I’m really sorry I just…. I wanted to thank you for yesterday and also apologize in case I was loud”

You extended your hand to her, giving her a small plastic bag with some food in it “I’m going out later, sorry for being here so early-“ she took the bag from your hands, finally looking back at you “it’s fine, you didn’t had to, really”

Would it be okay If she asked for your number? Would it be okay if you asked for her number?

“I was wondering If I could get your number too? just in case…”

You weren’t even finishing your sentence when she was already grabbing her phone

Maybe it was gonna be easier than you thought.

Week 7 of living here. It was indeed easier than you thought.

However there still was this thing bothering you. What should you actually do?

Yes you’ve met her casually and yes the bond with her was forming naturally. But what’s with your past life thoughts?

Because those “dreams” and “nightmares” had came back. And it was painful, because you regretted the decision you’ve made, almost every day. And it felt wrong to feel guilt, but how could you not?

And all these thoughts were eating you alive because what if you loose her again, what if she looses you again? Could you maybe talk with her about this? Or maybe-

“You good?” a cup of tea is placed in front of you. she sits right next to you, placing her legs on top of the chair. you nod.

“You zone out a lot” her lips curve upwards, making her dorky smirk appear. you smile back “There’s always thoughts on my mind, sorry”

“I wanted to ask you something…. don’t laugh alright?” “Don’t act so shy then” she rolled her eyes

You took a sip from the tea she had just made, staring at her face and trying to read the expression on it. She wouldn’t say anything.

“You can totally say no and I’ll act like nothing happened but uhm… would you maybe like to…. I don’t know, go out or something?

“As in a date or as in friends?” of course you knew what she meant, you couldn’t confusing the laughter “Yeah el, I’d like to go out with you” she smiled, moving her hands around her neck. She was probably burning inside from the shame.

“Is this how you always act around girls?”

“I always get asked first”

“Oh sorry miss hot, sorry for wanting to be asked first too”

“So you wanted to…. Why didn’t you ask?”

Her hands practically slapped her face, she’s so dramatic.

“I don’t understand how didn’t notice. I couldn’t stop looking at your tattoo when we met”

“I just thought you liked it”

“I also stared at your lips”

Silence. Just the sound of you sipping the tea, purposely loud.

“Stop it”

The date had basically been going out to every place near the building.

Walking trough a small park as you ate ice cream, shopping together at many thrifting stores and finding out you’re both so different yet with the same taste.

Both changing the conversation topic whenever a cute dog or cat passed by. Talking about pets, she sharing with you how she feared dogs when she was younger because one day a dog bit her, you feeling your heart almost exploding because it reminded you of the old Ellie.

Lots of small fights over who’d pay for the food and eventually letting her pay for you. Ellie wanting to hold you but being to shy to do it until you decided to grab her hands and then she wouldn’t let you go.

“Tell me more about your childhood, how was it to be born rich?” hopefully it wasn’t as depressing as you’d experienced it on your past life.

You were holding hands, walking back to your apartment. It was night already, not too late though.

“Great actually, I didn’t had to put much effort growing up. School was a pain in the ass thought, my parents would pay me classes to study after school and when they knew what I wanted to study in college they almost fainted, they practically told me I wasn’t that smart” a chuckle came out of her mouth “But they were always there for me. I didn’t have many friends though, I’ve always been very shy and introverted. What about you?”

You were too focused on how pretty she looked. She noticed and just smiled at you.

Was it the right time to kiss you?

“My life’s normal, I only have my mom and I’ve never connected with people so I just had some school friends growing up, nothing too deep. I was smarter than the rest of my class so I could skip some school years”

“I thought you were my age” her lips pouted in confusion “so you asked me out without being sure of my age? What if I’m five years younger than you?”

“You were the one to accept” she let go of your hand, holding her arms on the air acting innocence “I’m just two years younger, don’t worry you’re not doing anything ilegal”

Your arm extended, holding her hand again. Both of you gettin inside the building and then walking to the elevator.

Maybe now it was the right time to kiss you?

Her lips pressed on yours. Both of you closed your eyes, you could feel the grip on your hand tightening softly.

Your bodies felt like they were made for each other. The way her hands were the perfect size for yours, the way her fingers intertwined with yours, the way her mouth touched yours so delicately and so perfect.

The way your hands were the perfect size to fit on the back of her neck. The way her hands were the perfect size to fit your cheeks.The way your noses touched trough the kiss.

How beautifully your hearts had the same beat. How your breathing was as steady as hers.

It was a weird feeling that both or your bodies experienced as soon as you kissed. So familiar, so warm, so comforting. A deep form of love that could be experienced all over the body. A love that felt so safe and addictive.

And you two were craving for more.

Ding

The elevator opened, making the both of you break the kiss, which didn’t even last much, but it felt eternal, it felt like the right thing on the right moment.

The way your bodies and faces changed after it spoke more than words could ever. She couldn’t stop staring at you, and you weren’t precisely trying to avoid her so you did the same.

The dizziness that the elevator itself cause on the body combined with the way you two felt was almost too much to take. It felt so overwhelming, and finally it was in a good way for your body.

To you it just felt like peace, like you’ve done the right thing. No more regret or remorse, no more fear or anxiety.

To her it felt like this was meant to happen, like a deja vu that came out of nowhere but was meant to appear. Like if this had a deeper meaning behind it and she had to discover what it was. Like all of this had a deeper purpose for her and her life.

Soulmates, she thought. But it couldn’t be, she didn’t believe in that.

Ding

The elevator opened again

“Do you mind staying with me?” you finally stop holding hands with her, just to look for your keys. But before you could get your hand in the pocket of your jeans she stopped you “Stay at mine, I wanna show you something” a dumb smile appeared on your face.

It wasn’t the first time you’d go to her apartment but you’ve never seen it properly, you’ve never been there at night either.

You had arrive to the building probably about three hours ago. It was currently 12 am, Friday.

You were on her balcony as she played the guitar. She only knew a couple of songs and wanted to show to you how she didn’t suck as much as you thought she did.

And you gladly accepted. You had the perfect view of her tattoo on full display as she played the guitar, you could hear her pretty voice as she sang and the light coming from the other buildings was just perfect.

Ellie on the other hand, she could see your pretty eyes shining at her sight, she could see the way your hair fit you just perfectly on your body. How there’s some strings of hair tucked behind your ears. How pretty you smile is as she sings.

And it might be exaggerated but she feels like you’re the one. Like you didn’t just move to this building for no reason, like she didn’t decided to take the trash out that day so randomly for no reason, like you didn’t just appeared in her life for no reason.

You couldn’t just be a small romance on her life and then leave. This couldn’t be temporary.

You made her feel so familiar, like she had known you for years. She decided to believe in destiny, she believed that maybe you two were just meant to find each other, like this was meant to be. And you were just fine with it.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” your voice came out low, almost like a whisper. Her head moved towards you, she hummed thinking about her answer “Or…. reincarnation”

That word made her feel shivers all over her body. An image showed on her head for just the blink of an eye, almost too fast to even notice.

She was laying on the bed with someone else besides her, same question being asked. It changed her response.

“Maybe” unconsciously she but her bottom lip, just staring at you “do you?” she saw you nod. Your eyes were looking straight to hers, and for the first time on her life she didn’t felt like looking away. She felt unexplainably comfortable with you.

“Don’t mind me being so weird but…. I already know you” she just laughed “I’m sure we’ve met before, somewhere else at a different time”

“Maybe it wasn’t the right place, or the right moment” so she agreed? “I feel the same but I don’t think I’ve seen you before though” would it be okay if you tell her the truth? Would she believe it?

“Why you think that is?” and unconscious sigh escaped your mouth “What?” “Everything” she chuckled, lowering the guitar to the floor.

“Maybe destiny wanted something different, but love always wins right?” no, it doesn’t “And maybe we ate too much and it’s too late so we’re wandering” she stood up, white socks stepping on the floor as she walked inside. She stood on the frame of the door, waiting for you to get in.

“Wanna watch a movie?” She closed the door and placed her guitar on a wall, her place somehow was so tidy.

It had a lot of things though, a bunch of furniture filled with comics, books and vinyls. Some figures that looked pretty expensive. You only recognized the spider man one.

She had a console near the huge tv placed in her living room, and a bunch of pillows alongside a small blanket on the couch.

“Why do you have so many pillows in here?” she was already turning the tv on, laying on the couch and patting besides her so you would sit there. And so you did.

“I take a lot of naps in here during the day and fall asleep after working, I don’t realize I’m sleepy until I can’t even stand up so I decided to bring this here”

How could she be so lazy? and why was it so hot of her to be lazy?

“So you take naps while you should be working?” she nodded “I’m guessing you’ve been doing it for years now, I can’t believe you still have the job”

She just shrugged, casually opening her arms along the couch. And who in this earth would deny to cuddling with her?

None of you realized but eventually both just felt asleep, hugging each other, embraced by the warm blanket she’d covered you both before playing the movie.

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sweetlittlegingy · 2 years

Text

I Don't Start Shit, But I Can Tell You How It Ends

✦ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Single!Mother, Dagger Squad vs. Davis

✦Word Count: 2.8 K

✦Warnings: Protective!Hangman, Angry!Hangman, Protective!Dagger Squad, Asshole Guy, Failed Drugging, Jake hints at killing people...

✦A/n: The Dagger Squad finally gets ahold of Mathew's old Principle. They really hate the man, we all do tbh! Day 2 of 500 celebration!!!!

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

He’d told you he wouldn’t go to the school, and Jake Seresin was nothing if not a man of his word. Especially when the promise was made to you. No, Jake had informed Rooster of the situation. Of how the piece of shit, Davis, had touched you and made completely inappropriate comments about not only you, but also Mathew.

Jake had gone to Rooster knowing that the information would have him on a manhunt, and it did. Rooster was overwhelmingly protective of you, and though Jake had hated it at times, right now he was more than thankful for it. What Jake hadn’t meant to have happen, was to have Bob overhear him and Rooster talking.

No, that was defiantly not a part of the plan.

Though it quickly became a part of it.

“I figure, you go in and sweet talk the office Lady and —”

The slam of the locker room doors had Jake pausing, both him and Rooster looking over their shoulders to see a fuming Phoenix.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Her tone has both the pilots, exchanging a worried glance. Glancing behind Phoenix’s form at the other two male pilots, hoping that their faces would provide a revelation.

Jake's eyes first meet Coyote, a hard unamused gaze meeting his own. His eyes leave his best friend, to flitter between Bob’s own unusually hard gaze and Phoenix, her eyes never leaving his own. Her hands rested on her hips, giving both Jake and Rooster a ‘What The Fuck’ look.

“Nix baby, what’s wrong?” Rooster's tone causes a scoff to fall from Phoenix’s lips, taking a step toward the two of them. Both Rooster and Jake to step back, one hand leaving her hip to point at the two of them. A silent accusation.

“When were you going to tell me that my sister-in-law,” Her gaze cutting to Bradley harshly. “and god-son were getting FUCKING harassed by some idiot Principal.”

Both of them remained quiet; never noticing, until now, that lock room floors were remarkably shiny.

“Hmm?”

“Baby, I was going to tell you—”

“Don’t even Chicken,” the name instantly shutting the man up. She’d only ever used it on him when he was in trouble, using it more often than she did his actual name. “You are sleeping on the couch tonight.”

He shouldn’t have laughed, but Jake loved to see Rooster get in trouble. His laugh quickly dies though, when Phoenix’s pointed finger cuts to him.

“And you, what was the plan? Huh?”

“Trace, I had a plan.”

The sound of dripping water echoed through the silent locker room, each of the pilots waiting for Jake to continue. Jake’s eyes moved back to Rooster, who remained not only silent, but looked like he’d just gotten his favorite toy taken away from him.

Jake’s eyes rolled, realizing that Rooster would be no help to him. The 6-foot-something pilot was already in the doghouse with the wife, and wouldn’t be risking getting more sleepless nights on the couch.

“I mean it’s a work in progress, me and Rooster were hashing it out.”

A grunt leaves Rooster, “Look baby I was just listening, and then I was gonna come tell you.”

His head slowly nodding, “Yeah, I was actually about to tell Hangman that we need your input.”

It was clearly a lie, everyone knew it.

But Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, was in fact the biggest suck-up to his wife. If Jake wasn’t so in love with you, he would’ve laughed. Though from the moment he had met you, he was yours. You said jump, and he said how high.

“You’re an idiot. I love you, but you’re an idiot.” Walking over to Rooster, she gives him a soft kiss, her gaze then bouncing between Jake and Rooster. “But also, you do need me.”

….

Phoenix’s plan was no doubt better, than what the two pilots had initially thought of. Rooster didn’t love the fact that Phoenix was the “bait” in the situation, but she’d quickly told him to shut up before the protest could leave his mouth.

The first part of the plan had worked smoothly, Phoenix and Bob had quickly found Davis’s Facebook page and found the general area in which he lived. They had also learned what car he drove, and like the damn detective that she was, Phoenix found the man’s choice grocery store to shop at.

The momentum of the plan acceleration, like a snowball rolling down the hill. With a “accidental” meeting in the fresh fruit section, Phoenix quickly had a date set with the man.

That was last week which led to here and now, as Phoenix sat at the bar in the Hard Deck, wearing a dress and waiting for her date to show up. The guys crowded around the pool table, causally playing as if they weren’t about to beat the shit out of some middle-aged man soon enough.

You were home with Mathew and Jake knew that you wouldn’t be coming out. He would usually be with you and Maty, but he’d told you that he needed to handle an issue at the Hard Deck with Roos. You hadn’t even questioned it, only asked if he would be coming by after, to which he replied of course.

…

The bar was slightly crowded for a Thursday night, though it didn’t stop the pilots from clocking the door every time it opened. Before long, Davis had shown up, 20 minutes late to the “date,” but he had showed.

Jake notices the way Phoenix slightly stiffens as Davis’s hand rests a tad low on her lower back, and he has to grab Rooster before he goes and beats the shit of the man. Phoenix glances back at the group of guys, meeting Rooster's eyes and giving him a silent ‘I’m okay.’ He relaxes slightly in Jake’s hold, but is still slightly tense as he moves back to the pool table. The group continues the game of pool, eyes fleeting between the game and the bar.

They watch as Phoenix holds a conversation with the man, though maintains a safe distance from his wandering hands. They hadn’t told Penny about the plan, the group of pilots grin as they notice her continually checking in on Phoenix.

….

Penny had once again made her way over to Phoenix and the man, giving her a smile and the man a harsh glare. Penny knew that this couldn’t be one of Phoenix and Rooster's plans to spice up their marriage, no she could tell that this was different.

“Can I get you two a refill?”

“Yeah baby, get me a beer and – ” Davis looks over to Phoenix, before turning back to Penny. “Get her cocktail.”

Penny recoils at the name he calls her and glances back to Phoenix who has remained silent.

“She usually takes a beer or shoots liquor, buddy.”

“Yeah, well cocktails are ladylike.”

The comment has both the women rolling their eyes, Penny’s eyes moving back to the group of pilots, and raises an eyebrow at Rooster.

Rising up from her seat, the dress fluttering down around her hips, drawing Davis’s eyes directly to her tan legs, catching his gaze, Phoenix scoffs.

“Get me whatever Pen, I’m going to the bathroom.”

She leaves before Davis can say anything, more than fed up with the overly handsy and sexist man. Making her way past the group of pilots, she silently looks at them, before going into the bathroom.

…

Jake is making his way to the bar before the bathroom door is fully closed. He slides up to the bar, right next to Davis as he flags down Penny.

“Penny ma’ dear, can I get a whiskey?”

He can feel Davis’ eyes on him, silently watching and assessing. While waiting for Penny, Jake leans his back against the bar, his eyes finally landing on Davis.

“Do I know you?” Jake’s eyes stare at the man, like a lion taunting his prey.

“Nah, don’t think so.”

The reply is short and to the point, but it has Jake laughing slightly. Turning back to lean his forearms on the bar, his gaze harsh and waiting for Davis to bite.

“No, I know you from somewhere.”

Davis doesn’t get a chance to answer as Penny arrives again handing Jake the whiskey and setting down the two drinks for Phoenix and Davis.

“You drinking that girly shit man? Cuz I know Nix doesn’t.”

The comment makes Davis release an uneasy breath, before ignoring Jake altogether. The pilot looks back over his shoulder at the group of guys patiently waiting by the pool table.

If he hadn’t turned back when he did, Jake would have missed it. Lucky, Jake sees it as Davis mixes a bag of powder into Phoenix’s drink.

“Oh buddy, you did not just do that.”

Though the words sound light, the comment is anything but as Jake lays a hand harshly on Davis’s shoulder.

“Listen here, this has nothing to do with you. So just go back to your little friends and leave me be.”

Jake’s tongue slightly clicks at the man, head caulking to the side and laying a harsh gaze upon him. His eyes calculating as ever. Jake has been pissed off before, but now, after this, he was just about ready to kill Davis.

The tick of his jaw, gives Jake away “You know, I thought you looked familiar. You are the piece of shit, who fucked with my girl.”

Grasping the glass of whiskey, Jake shoots the rest of it back. Arm falling to rest upon bar, as he gives Davis his signature award-winning smirk.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen, Penny ma’ dear you’re going to ring that bell and asshole here is going to pay for a round of drinks.” His soft gaze moves from Penny and back to a clearly worried Davis, eyes instantly hardening when they make contact with Davis‘s own.

“Me and you, we’re gonna go outside and have a little talk, about how you treat women.”

Before he can reply, Bradley and Coyote each grab one of Davis’s arms, and drag him out of the bar as Penny rings the bell in the background. Davis lands harshly on the ground, as Rooster and Coyote release him with a harsh shove. The group of pilots crowded around him, each of them staring down at him with bitter gazes.

“I don’t know wha—”

The words instantly die on Davis’s lips, as Jake crouches down next to him. The surrounding group intent on quietly watching; waiting for Jake to make the first move. Rooster hadn’t seen, the way Davis slipped a powder into Phoenix’s drink, though when he found out Jake was sure he’d want to kill the man just as much.

“Now I’m sure you don’t remember, given that you seem like the type of scum that regularly hits on women without their consent.”

The harsh jab Jake lays on the man’s chest, send him back a bit. The boys had seen Jake mad before, but never like this. Never with such fire and anger burning in his green eyes.

“You see, you made my girl cry. Not just that, you put your hands on my girl, and then you have the nerve to talk about how she’s raising our son.”

Sure, Mathew wasn’t his son yet legally, but with or without the paperwork he was still Jake’s boy.

“She showed up at your office, wanting to have a talk about how your school had been treating Mathew. But she comes home to me crying and hides in the bathroom until I knocked the fuckin’ door down.”

His voice slowly rose with every word, and watching as his words sink in. Jake laughs as he watches Davis pales upon his realization of the words. Jake’s hand raises up to smack Davis gently across the face laughing as he does so.

“Ahhhh, there it is.”

Jake quickly rises back up to stand over the man, turning back around to the group of pilots and motions them to go grab him. As Rooster and Coyote grab onto the man, lifting him back onto his feet, Jake slowly makes a show.

He always like to show off, it made people uneasy. Jake liked making sure everyone knew just how good he was. He glances over his shoulder, as he unbuttons the khaki uniform top, pulling it off so he’s only wearing the white undershirt with his khaki pants. Glancing back at the man with that well-known smirk,

“Can’t have you bleeding on my good clothes.”

He says it so easily, but he knows that it hits its mark, as Davis shutters slightly in Coyote and Roosters hold.

The sound of the bar doors opening, has the group looking back toward the entrance. Watching as Phoenix exits the bar and makes her way to the group.

“Did I miss anything?”

Davis silently stares at the woman, his eyes moving between Jake and her. The realization slowly crept in that this whole night was a set-up; the meet-up in the grocery store, Jake coming up to him in the bar, and now here with his back pressed against the side of the bar wall.

“Not a thing, Trace.”

The shift of Davis’ shoulders sends everyone's eyes back to him, watching and calculating just how bad his night might become.

“Now as you can tell, well maybe you can’t cause you’re an idiot, but we’re all in the Navy. And with the Navy, comes call signs.”

Jake’s form comes to a halt, staring down Davis with a wicked smile that just about sends Rooster and Coyote running.

“My callsign, well there are few people that know the real reason behind it, but you’re about to find out buddy.”

Glances are exchanged between the other pilots, though it’s Coyote's gaze that never leaves Jake’s. He’d been there when Jake earned the name Hangman. It had been a long time ago, but he knew that Jake, still lay just beneath the surface.

“See everybody likes to assume, that it’s because I like flying alone. Well, that just ain’t it, nope.”

The calculated steps, unnerving gaze, and the way in which Jake talks were clearly meant to scare the man.

Let it be known, that when you pissed Jacob Grant Seresin off, all hell would break loose.

Jake’s right arm shootouts, to grasp Davis’s neck so fast that I has Phoenix gasping. The other pilots only shift slightly at the brutal action.

“No, I got named Hangman because I’ve been known to string up men and play the judge, jury, and executioner.”

With each title that falls from his lips, Jake lifts Davis slowly until his feet no longer touch the ground and the only thing keeping him up, is the hand clasped around his neck.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The group of pilots remain unmoving, all watching in unnerving silence and slowly comprehending the way in which Jake actually got his callsign. Davis tries to nod his head, though the hand around his neck makes it near impossible. As if only to taunt him more, Jake taps his ear slightly with his left hand.

“What was that?”

Shades from red to a light purple, start to cover Davis’s face, a clear sign of his lack of oxygen. His mouth moves though no words can fall from it. A sharp chuckle leaves Jake’s lips, as he loses his grip slightly as the man gasps for air.

“I understand.” The panting of his breath only makes Jake smile widen.

“Good.”

As the single word is muttered from Jake’s lips, the right hand once clasped over Davis’ neck drops. His body falls to the floor on the concrete, causing him to lean back against the bar wall, gasping for air.

“And I thought you would be more fun to break.” His tone light and easy, completely unfazed by the events that just occurred.

Jake reaches over to take his shirt from Phoenix, giving each of his friends the smile that they all came to know once Jake met you. He was a completely different person, than the one he was just moments ago. As he pulls the shirt back on, without missing a beat Jake lowers himself down to Davis. Laughing slightly at how the man flinches away from him.

“Don’t ever come around my girl or son again.”

The tone of his voice sends another shockwave through Davis’s body. Rising without any care for the man, Jake kicks the man’s limp foot before turning ready to get home to you.

A final glance over his shoulder, to the group of his friends still standing around Davis unsure of what to do.

“Hey Roos, I forgot to tell you that he tried to drug Nix.”

The final words, might as well have been those that a coroner would’ve signed in the finalization of the death certificate.

#better man universe #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #javy coyote machado #mickey fanboy garcia #rueben payback fitch

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the-hopeless-haze · 1 year

Text

I Do Bad Things With You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: smut. nsfw mdni

Summary: You don't feel like you're a good agent. Aaron assures you that you are. And then he fucks you. or inn other words, I think I need someone to study my brain because I did cry in my boss' office for very similar reasons to this and I am very much attracted to her but we did not fuck in her office and she has no idea I want her I just have breakdowns at work because 1) it sucks and 2) I am mentally unwell. I just truly don't know if this fic was birthed from the worst compulsory heterosexuality of all time or if I'm truly just an insane bisexual (I think it's the latter) but when I tell you I have not thought about Hotchner in years I MEAN years. I haven't watched Criminal Minds in like five years until today to write this fic. But like. He is FINE. y'all know. you're here. come for my unhinged summary stay for the smut idk

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“I can’t do this anymore,” you mutter under your breath, hating how the tears fall anyway, how you can’t stop them. “I’m not doing a good enough job. I need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron asks you. “Why do you feel that way?”

“It’s just… it’s just I feel like I can never get a grip. Like I can’t ever get everything done that needs to get done. Like I’m not good enough.”

“You’re good enough. You’re a good agent. You come in and you do your job,” he says gently. “I don’t need anything else from you.”

You were usually so put together, so stoic, even, so sure of yourself. He can’t quite believe you’re in his office like this, past the verge of tears, sitting across from him weeping.

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you ask, lifting your head to look at him.

“For the effort you put in. How you’re a new agent and you still proved yourself to my team. You’re living up to your potential and then some. We appreciate you. I appreciate you.”

“You just have to say that.”

“No. I don’t have to say anything. I’m telling you what I see and what I believe. And I’m not letting you quit.”

“But, sir, I—“

“I won’t accept it,” he says firmly but quietly. “You’re too good of an agent to lose. You know this. You know your grades were stellar and your psychology background is enviable. You know you passed every test with flying colors. The adjustment to being a full-fledged agent in the first year is tough, to say the least. It’s grueling. Getting accustomed and used to death, danger and just the pressure of the job is something that not everyone can handle. But you can. I know you can. If I lost you, I’d lose an asset. You’re an excellent profiler. It’s intuitive for you.”

There it is, though, that behavior analyst part of your brain and you noticed how he said “I” and not “we” and how his eyes softened, how he wasn’t looking at you sternly and stoically but there was more of a tenderness in his dark eyes.

He likes you. He means what he says. You know he does.

But that isn’t enough. You don’t believe what he says. You don’t believe you’re worthy. This job takes up so much of your waking hours but when you’re outside of it you have next to nothing. You’re not close to family here in Virginia. You don’t have a significant other. You’re not home enough to have a dog. And you just feel like you’ve been letting yourself go since you only seem to have time to eat, sleep and work.

You’ve always been an anxious person. You’ve managed to quell the thoughts wracking your brain with years of practice and medications to a point where you can function, to a point where you made it through school and made it into the FBI. Impostor syndrome dies hard, though. You keep trying to swallow down your tears but it’s fucking impossible when you’re like this. You dry them on the sleeves of your blazer, biting your lip nervously.

“Don’t cry. It’s okay,” Aaron says, breaking through your thoughts.

“It’s not okay,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t be breaking down crying.”

“You’re human,” he says gently. “This job is overwhelming.”

“It doesn’t seem to get to you.”

“It does. It still does. I… I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you.”

“I just don’t think I can do this, Hotchner. With all due respect, I need to put my two weeks in,” you say, strengthening your weakened resolve.

“No,” he refuses, shaking his head. “What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?”

You sigh, leaning forward and bracing your head in your hands. “I don’t know.”

You feel him before you see him, refusing to lift your head up as the tears started streaming down your face. He kneels in front of you, taking your hands gently from your cheeks, but your eyes are still squeezing shut. “Look at me,” he orders.

“Hotchner, I—“

“It’s Hotch. You know that. Or… you can call me Aaron. Just call me Aaron. Look at me.”

Finally, you blink your eyes open, tears spilling over, and he squeezes both your hands gingerly.

“Good. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home for the night. You’re going to take your mind off of the job. And you’re going to come back tomorrow morning and everyone in here is going to talk about how much you’re missed when you’re gone. Because we all value you. But you need to take the time for yourself. You’re burnt out. You’re not a bad agent. You’re just mean to yourself and you shouldn’t be.”

It’s not lost on you, the way he’s still touching you when you don’t think you’ve seen him so much as brush against anyone else on the team. Is he…?

You squeeze his hands back, forcing yourself to smile.

“There we go,” he smiles back. “See? Do you feel better?”

“A little. Thank you, Hotch.”

“Please. You can call me Aaron in private,” he reiterates. He would have, could have, should have let you go by now. But he hasn’t.

“In private?”

“I don’t let just anyone use my first name. There’d be questions if you started using it especially since you called me SSA Hotchner for months before I got you to just say Hotchner at least. You’re a rule stickler, hm? I think that’s part of your problem.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to think rules are made to be broken,” you counter. Sure. You were a stickler. You were. Deferential to authority - that deserved it. You spoke out, and you would speak out of turn if anything felt wrong or uncomfortable. Rules made things feel safer. Still. You’d call out the unjust. And you think Aaron is the same way.

“Some of them are,” he muses.

“You yelled at me,” you say suddenly. “My third week.”

He furrows his brow, trying to recall the incident you were talking about and then he nods. “You were reckless. You put yourself and Morgan in danger. You walked straight into an ambush. It was a mistake. A rookie mistake. A mistake you learned from. You never did it again.”

“But I—“

“It’s been almost a year since then,” he says, gently. “I don’t hold it against you. I’ve had to pull everyone who works here aside for something. And I’ve been pulled aside myself. No one’s perfect. I… I raised my voice because I was worried about you. Not because I was angry with you.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, nodding. “Okay.”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he says.

“Hm?”

“I see a strong, capable, intelligent young woman who’s an amazing profiler — you can glean someone’s familial background in record time. I see a woman who holds her ground and then some in interrogations.”

“I’m crying in my boss’ office right now,” you titter awkwardly.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still all of those things. I see a beautiful woman who’s passionate about her career, who wants to do the best she can…”

He trails off. You wonder if he realizes the weight of what he said.

Always walking the line of professionalism. Making any comments regarding your appearance was crossing it, even if it was as benign and modest as “beautiful”. It was still a step too far.

But you, you’re depressed and anxious, and you’ll take whatever you can get.

He’s still kneeling in front of you.

You know it would be stupid, especially when he’s a broken man himself, even if he denies it to everybody. His wife cheated on him. It was hard, with the job, to have a stable relationship with anyone outside of it. You know this. You’re living it.

He’s still touching you and your skin is on fire now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he makes no effort to move, no effort to stop staring through your eyes to your soul. Is he profiling you? Trying to see if your breath hitched when he let the compliment slip?

“Don’t be,” you say breathily.

“It was inappropriate,” he says, and he does get up then, wincing at the stiffness in his knees from crouching in front of you for so long. You miss the warmth of his hands already. “You’re dismissed, agent. Go home and take care of yourself.”

Your emotions flip like a switch, it’s just how it’s always been, and you use it to your advantage in a room full of profilers. It’s good to be unpredictable, a wild card. You don’t even mean to. You just are. You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth next. He stood up, so he’s towering over you as you sit in the seat across from his desk, but he’s looking down at you, waiting on your next sentence. And what you say is, “Agent? I thought we were on first-name basis, Aaron?”

It’s the first time you’ve said his first name, and it goes right through him. He wasn’t lying. Not many people do have the privilege to use it. None of his subordinates would be brave enough, maybe not even if he gave them explicit permission like he gave to you. It’s intimate, all these walls up in this bureaucracy that even something as simple as a woman using his first name could drive him up the wall like it would an upstanding Christian man in Regency England. Rules. Rules to be broken.

Aaron whispers your first name, and it’s barely audible, but you hear it in his low, soft baritone. Not the first time, but the only time he’s said it without your last name tacked on the end of it. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Aaron?”

You’re teasing, now, and he wonders if it’s just a reflex, trying to gain back some of the power you lost by coming in here crying, or if you genuinely want something from him besides reassurance and a couple of hours off from work. It was maddening at first, trying to figure you out. He still doesn’t know exactly who you are and he’s resigned himself to the fact that maybe he’d never be able to nail you down.

“Don’t,” Aaron says again, looking at you sternly as you stand up.

“What is it that you don’t want me to do, Aaron?” you ask, and you’re still not eye to eye but you’re closer now, and his eyes never left your face throughout the whole conversation anyway.

He says your name again like it’s a curse under his breath. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Stop it.”

“Use your words, Aaron.”

“Stop teasing me,” he murmurs, looking away from you for the first time, down at the floor. You never expected him to be so… shy.

“I’m teasing you?” you ask, feigning innocence. You didn’t have to be a profiler to see how he was getting tenser as you continue this conversation.

“Yes,” he says, looking back up at you, an edge to his voice you hadn’t heard before. “And I suggest you stop.”

“Or else?” you say before your brain can catch up. You’re playing with fire. You know you are.

But you like him. Tall, dark, handsome, nothing like the men you’ve been with before. Other men were intimidated when he walked into the room. And you being you… you always wanted to break him down into a crying, blubbering mess, and be the only one who got to see him like that. Break the stoic wall and get to see him. Human.

And if he was this reactive to you just saying his name?

Lord help both of you.

“Please,” he murmurs. “Go home for the day.”

“Is that to help me, or you?”

He shakes his head, smiling a little. “Perhaps both of us.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to get my resignation if I make things so… hard… for you, Aaron,” you say, and you move a little closer, his breath hitching audibly in his throat.

Again. He says your name like it’s the worst curse in the book, hissing it like it physically hurts him, and you know, maybe you are.

“A little selfish, maybe. I’d miss you too much,” he admits. “And I meant what I said. I’d lose an asset. You’re a stellar agent.”

You don’t really know what to say, now, but he continues.

“Profile me,” he whispers. “In this moment. What am I thinking?”

“So you don’t have to say it out loud?”

“Mm.”

“You want me, Aaron,” you say shakily, losing your resolve almost as quickly as you gained it back. “I don’t think you’d have to be a profiler to figure that out.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asks.

“Right now… yes.”

“You need me. You need me to show you how valued you really are,” Aaron says, searching your eyes for confirmation that you want this, too. As always, though, you’re unreadable. “Say it. Let me show you my appreciation.”

God. What in the world? Your brain is fuzzy with lust, and never in a million years would you have thought this is how today would’ve gone. Mondays back in the office are always the worst, piles of paperwork from the cases prior to sift through and file and the anticipation of when you’d be on the road or up in the air next always gnawed at your stomach. You fully expected to give your notice and come home crying. You didn’t foresee the prospect of being utterly fucked by your boss who very much did not want you to resign.

You know why the rules are in place. Dating coworkers was messy anyway, never mind dating someone in this line of work. Still… you thought it made sense in a way. The only person who was really going to understand your crazy schedule was someone who was working the same hours.

So you nod, giving him full permission to do as he pleases.

His lips meet yours, surprisingly soft and gentle, akin to the way his hands squeezed yours before. “I can’t believe I held myself back from doing this for this long,” he mumbles against your mouth, then he pulls you in an embrace, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck where he can reach. “I need you here. I need you to promise me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay, Aaron.”

“I’ve wanted your body since the second you walked into this building. I need you. You ground me. Make me feel better, human. Like maybe I could exist outside of the field and outside of this office.”

“Did you know I was struggling?”

“You hide it well. I knew you were frustrated, but the last case was tough and we all are a little on edge. I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you to lean on, honey,” Aaron says, moving his head back to face you, eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I want you to always come to me if you need anything. Anything.”

You don’t say anything, just hum contently, pressing your mouth back to his for a kiss that starts off chaste and quickly becomes heated, his hands cupping the curve of your ass.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. “Promise me you’ll always come to me.”

“I promise,” you agree.

“Good girl,” he affirms. “You’re such a good girl. Never have to worry about you doing your job. You always get your reports to me on time, you always make brilliant deductions when we’re going over cases, you always make sure the rest of the team doesn’t need anything… such a good girl.”

You kiss him fiercely, the voice in your head screaming he was your boss and both of your careers are on the line if this goes south long silenced. His large hands on your ass pull you closer to him, and you feel his hardening cock against you as he does. “Aaron,” you choke out breathily.

“Feel me? That’s what you do to me, honey.”

You snake a hand between your bodies and palm him through his dress pants, and you can tell he wasn’t expecting that to be your next move from the way his cheeks flush and he groans heavily. “This is about you,” he manages to say, taking your hand away from his clothed cock. “All about you. Go sit on my desk, honey.”

You do as he says, squeezing your thighs together as he follows you and takes his suit jacket off, revealing his tasteful button-down underneath. “Good girl,” he whispers, spreading your legs with hands, kneading the flesh of your thighs as he does so, letting the fabric of your skirt ride up.

And then he digs his nails under the thin sheer of your tights and rips them. “Aaron!” you hiss in surprise.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he responds almost dismissively, easing the torn fabric down the length of your legs, kissing the swell of your calves as he takes your heels off and places them on the floor underneath the desk.

“I’m more worried about how I’m going to walk out of here,” you say, smiling.

“I sent them all out on different tasks and told them to get lunch first. They’ll be gone for a while.”

“Did you plan this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Not exactly,” he smirks. “But now you can be as loud as you need to be.”

“Aaron,” you say, almost scolding, but whatever you were going to say after that is lost in the recesses of your mind as you feel his mouth on yours again, hot and ready, tongue gliding against yours with ease. He shrugs your blazer off, too, leaving you in just a black tank top and your skirt that was hiked up to your waist.

“I believe regulations are to wear long sleeve button-downs underneath blazers,” he says lowly. You know it’s a lie. If Garcia can dress the way she does there are certainly not strict restrictions on what you can wear, even if you’re a field agent. But you’ll play along.

“I believe regulations are not to have your subordinate spread out on your desk in front of you, sir,” you retort.

Aaron chuckles deeply at that. This is how you usually were, sarcastic and snippy, even with him at times. Funny. “Rules and regulations,” he muses. “I think I’m alright with those two being broken.”

And with that his fingers of his right hand start ghosting your cunt, pressing the thin cotton of your panties, groaning lowly at how wet you are. “You’re soaked, honey,” he says. “Can I feel you? Please.”

“Yes, Aaron, please touch me,” you nod.

He pushes aside your panties, slipping his index finger in slowly, catching your lips with his in the process.

“Want to make you feel so good, so much better,” he murmurs, starting slow and building up pressure before he inserts another finger, stretching you out, making you impossibly wetter, reaching depths of you that you couldn’t reach yourself with your much shorter and thinner fingers. “Lift your hips,” he instructs, and in one swift motion, he slips your panties off, pocketing them in his dress pants. “Good girl.”

“Not fair, Aaron,” you say.

“What’s not fair, honey?”

“You’re still fully dressed,” you point out, reaching for his tie to loosen it. You were absolutely soaked, you could feel it, and you wonder if his desk will stain from your slick. You untuck his shirt from his pants and run your hands over his stomach, scars under the pads of your fingers, God, you want to lick every inch of him.

“Mm. I can help you remedy that,” he agrees, meeting your hands when you were halfway through the buttons on his pristine white shirt, pulling it over his head along with his undershirt. You reach for his belt buckle and he stops you. “Not yet. Let me do something first.”

And before you know it his tongue is on you, swirling incessant circles around your swollen clit, and you can tell he’s not taking his time now. He wants to bring you over the edge and fast, and you wonder how long it will be before the rest of the team do return from their extended lunch breaks. You’ve been eaten out before, sure, but to use a cliched metaphor for the umpteenth time in human history, you finally figured out what women meant when they said their man ate them like it was their last meal on death row. You clamp your legs against his head, and he moans, sending vibrations through your cunt, damn near sending you over the edge as you pant and whimper.

“Am I not making you feel good?” Aaron looks up in worry.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You’re not screaming. I suppose I should try harder,” he says, furrowing his brow and then he adds his fingers back, fucking deep into you. His tongue focuses on your clit and your thighs are shaking and you gasp, no longer able to hold yourself up seated, leaning back and bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Aaron, I’m so close,” you moan, trying to fight the urge to push him away as the pressure builds. You squeeze your thighs tighter and the sudden force of it drags Aaron’s tongue flat against your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge, whining his name over and over again.

He doesn’t stop.

“Aaron,” you choke out, trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation. “Aaron. Please.”

“You can be louder than that,” he says, not bothering to lift his head, voice muffled by your wet cunt. “I’m not stopping until you reach a decibel level I’m satisfied with. And I will know if you’re faking.”

You’ve never had anyone go down on you for multiple rounds. You were lucky if you came once with previous partners. Part of the reason you never wanted to make a move with Aaron was that you figured he would ruin you for other men.

And God. Were you right.

You only hope you’re ruining him for other women.

You know you’re next orgasm will be embarrassingly close as he never gave you a chance to come down from the first one. You didn’t expect it to come on like it did though, your right hand carded in his jet black hair, just again, him flattening his tongue against your clit as his fingers continued to scissor you open and you can’t help it, gasping for air, shouting, yelling, keening his name. “Aaron,” you plead. “I can’t give you another one. Please.”

“Shh. Good girl. You can and you will. For me,” he commands authoritatively.

And you can. And you do.

The next time, mercifully, Aaron stands up, and leaves you alone to breathe. He kisses you and you taste yourself on his tongue. He’s achingly hard now, a quite visible tent noticeable in his dress pants, cheeks red from exertion, everything from his nose to his chin wet with your slick.

What a vision.

How were you ever going to get this out of your head?

“Can I be inside you? Please?” he asks.

“Yes,” you affirm.

Aaron lets you unbuckle his pants and lets them pool to the floor, helping you out of your tank top and bra, sucking and biting on your nipples and the flesh of your breasts for a few moments before he steps out of his shoes and boxers, completely bare in front of you.

“God, Aaron,” you breathe. “You’ve really been holding out on me.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and his cheeks flush redder. “I could say the same for you, sweetheart.”

“How long?”

“I told you,” he says lowly, lining his cock with your entrance. “Since the second you walked in this building.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask, but it’s a loaded question if not a stupid one. There’s a myriad of reasons why you don’t tell someone who works under you that you want to fuck them stupid. That you like them. That you love them?

You frown slightly. You don’t think you could handle it if this was the only time you got to be with him like this.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting your chin with his thumb. “You promised you would tell me.”

“Is this… is this a one-time thing, Aaron?” You ask tentatively.

“I don’t want it to be,” he answers quickly. “It’d be a daily occurrence if I had my way.”

With that, he grabs your hips, and looks at you for consent, then slams all the way in when you nod in affirmation. Neither of you can help the moans and groans escaping your mouths at that, you from feeling completely full and him being fully sheathed in you.

“I… I love you,” he says, pressing his sweat-sheened forehead to yours. “You don’t have to say it back. I know how dangerous and inappropriate and difficult this situation is never mind adding emotions to it. And I… I’m not good at them in the first place. I just… I just need you to know that. I want to be with you. All the time.”

“Again, Aaron, why did you never… fuck,” you trail off as he starts moving his hips, setting a slow and languid pace.

“I don’t know. I was afraid,” he chuckles.

“Of me?”

“You’re intimidating. You’re beautiful, smart, and capable. To tell you I wanted you…”

“You’re calling me intimidating?” you ask. “You? Of all people?”

“I’ve seen you interrogate. Baby-faced assassin, hm? You’ve shaken some grown men in their boots.”

“Including you?”

“Including me,” he chuckles, then softens. “Seeing you cry like that today… I… it broke my heart, honey. I never thought I’d see you break. I’d do anything to make you never feel like that again. You need to stay.”

“I already promised you, Aaron,” you say, biting your lip as he somehow angles his cock deeper in you. “I love you.”

Kissing you fiercely, he squeezes your hips, and you can’t wait to see if there’ll be bruises there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips. “God, you’re fucking squeezing my cock, honey,” he grunts, and you feel yourself clench more at his words. You’ve never heard him swear. Ever. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

“I’m surprised you lasted this long, old man,” you tease.

“You’d be surprised how much stamina I do have,” he threatens, rolling his eyes at you. “You’ll see tonight when I have more time with you.”

“How presumptuous.”

He scoffs, doesn’t say anything, but starts running over your clit with his thumb, kissing you deeply, fucking you faster and harder, setting a much more brutal pace.

“You just need me that bad, Aaron?” you ask, hellbent on seeing him break. “You need to fuck me all the time now that you’ve had me?”

“Yes,” he pants. “Need you all the time. Every day. Need to fuck this pretty cunt. Make you know you’re appreciated. Valued. Loved. Never want to hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Not…I’ll worship you. Kiss the ground you walk on. Fuck you until you can’t stand. Whatever it takes.”

“What about you, Aaron? How do you feel right now?”

“So fucking good,” he groans. “So fucking good. Such a good girl. You keep sucking my cock back in every thrust, you feel that, honey? So wet, so warm, fuck, I’d stay inside you forever.”

“Yeah, Aaron? Hmm? I—“ your teasing backfired on you, and before you can think of anything else to say, you come on his cock, your nails dragging down his back stalling his motions to stutters and he’s asking you, begging you, “Please let me cum inside you,” he begs. “Please, honey.”

You nod breathlessly, unable to speak, and you don’t think he’d be able to make it out of you in time completely if you’d said no because you feel his seed fill you as you’re still riding out the aftershocks of your own orgasm and he’s moaning your name in choked sobs and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever fucking seen or heard.

“I love you,” he whispers, dark eyes looking up at you from where his face now rested in the swell of your breasts. “I love you. And we’re going to make this work come hell or high water.”

“I love you,” you say back once you catch your breath. “Are you still sending me home?”

He laughs. “You look and smell like sex.”

“Do you think you look or smell any different? You did this to me,” you say, messing up his sweat-streaked hair more with your fingers. “I think your boss should send you home, too.”

“Hm. Perhaps I could convince him,” he says, giving you a wide smile.

He helps you get dressed, kissing you wherever he can reach in between and it takes much longer than it would have had you dressed yourself. You’re not complaining. But there’s no fixing your hair or your tattered tights. No fixing Aaron’s disheveled hair, either, or the sweat stains around his armpits from when you teased him for so long.

“Follow me home, honey,” he instructs. “Round two.”

Maybe you should have mental breakdowns at work more often.

#Aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x you #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotchner x reader smut #hotch x reader smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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luvrxbunny · 7 months

Text

idk

Pairing: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Prompt: Praise

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, praise (kinda like body worship), age-gap, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.8k

A/N: this might suck im so sorry, its super rushed. also I couldn't think of a name (not proofread at all)

You shake your head as your friends laugh. They always think it’s funny, and although it doesn’t bother you very much, it’s still quite annoying. Your friends seem to think that your relationship with Joel is a fling, some sort of manic, impulsive decision to date someone so much older than you. You’ve explained to them over and over again that what you have with Joel is as real as it gets. You’ve never been more in love with anyone, but they think you’re dickmatized, they’re waiting for you to ‘snap out of it’.

“I told you guys, I love him.” You state before finishing your drink, rolling your eyes at the way they giggle. You check your phone for updates but all you get is Joel’s same ‘15 minutes away.’ text that was there the last time you checked. You pray that every light he comes across is green and the streets are empty, you want to get out of here as soon as possible.

“I don’t even know if I believe that!” Stacey is drunker than she should be, saying things she shouldn’t be. You’ve grown used to it now, she’s the one who has the most to say about your relationship. “I feel like you treat him like…” She laughs abruptly. “Like he’s your boss or something!” She cackles again at the way your face drops. “And he- he could be, ‘cause he’s so old.” You take a deep breath and look up at her, your face blank as her laughter dies down.

“Joel is-” Just uttering his name from your lips brings a smile to your face. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He understands me, my needs, and my wants in a way that I don’t even understand. I’ve known him for a year and a half now, I’ve known you much longer, yet he knows more about me than you ever will. He’s my everything and that’s never gonna change. I’m not upset at you, just to clarify.” You say with a soft chuckle. “I think all of this is coming from a place of jealousy if I’m being completely honest. I hope that you find someone who loves you like you’re his entire universe.” You begin to collect your things, deciding you can wait for Joel outside.

“He makes me feel like an angel, like-” You laugh at their shocked and confused expressions. They have no clue what you’re talking about, it makes you pity them a bit, but it mostly makes you happy, feeling lucky you were able to find it. “Anyway…” You chuckle awkwardly and stand to leave. “That’s how I feel about him. So, if you could like… not, say things insinuating that I don’t love my boyfriend, I would really love that.” You smile and awkwardly bow/curtsey at them, waving and walking away. You’re a bit embarrassed at the silence in the room as you walk away. You turn the corner as quickly as you can and jump at the man standing in the middle of the foyer.

“Joel!? Oh- You scared the shit outta me!” You place a hand over your heart with a smile, taking deep breaths as you walk toward him. “Did you text? I’m sorry there was an… altercation.” He nods at you slowly and only then do you realize his stare. It’s different from the one you usually get, softer, more watery somehow. “I know.” He pauses to take a deep breath as you reach him. His hand reaches out for yours and you take it with a confused smile as you both start walking to the front door. “I uh- I heard actually.”

Joel feels your hand tense in his for a moment as you let out a nervous giggle. “Oh! That- That’s great.” You chuckle and glance up at him for a moment, mumbling. “That’s so embarrassing.” He laughs gently at that, his hand leaving yours once you guys reach the car. “That’s not true, darlin’.” He says as he climbs into the car. You’re chuckling quietly, still embarrassed as you ride home in near silence, the only noise being the little hum of the radio.

He doesn’t bring it up until after dinner, you’re both on the couch, in Joel's shirt, watching some movie that recently came out but Joel’s mind is on the rant he heard from you earlier. He had shown up unannounced due to his phone dying mid-way through the drive-over. He heard Stacey mention the way you act toward him, how unaffectionate you were. Joel doesn’t necessarily agree with that but he’s definitely questioned your feelings toward him before, constantly wondering if you actually like him or if you’re just lonely. So of course he wanted to hear your answer, he prepared himself for the worst, held his breath, grit his teeth, and waited for the pain of your answer. His heart stuttered when you paused after “Joel is-”

He was ready to hear the most heartbreaking words tumble from your mouth next, but then you said he was the best thing to ever happen to you, and his heart stopped. His eyes went wide as you rambled on, saying wonderful thing after wonderful thing. He felt his heart tremble inside his chest, loving the things you were saying, and the way you were defending him against your friends. The fact that you were outwardly announcing the extreme feelings you have for him made so many different emotions swirl through him. He was in a daze until you turned the corner, and he’s fallen into that same one again.

You can feel Joel staring at you, you can see his head turned your way from the corners of your eye. You’re trying to ignore it, but he clears his throat and you turn toward him. “You okay?” His face is a bit frantic and he’s looking at you in that way again, the one you couldn’t really explain. He’s taking slow breaths and turns to you, letting you know this was going to be a whole conversation. You face him, letting the TV play because you don’t even understand the movie anyway.

“Why don’t you talk to me that way?” His question baffles you. You glace over at the TV, seeing if he's referring to something that happened in the movie but come up with nothing. You turn back to him slowly, watching his expectant, worried expression, and furrow your brows at him, prompting him to explain himself. “Back at Stacey’s house, you were sayin’ real nice things.” You feel the temperature in the room rise as embarrassment creeps into your bones.

‘Why don’t you talk to me that way?’

“Do you want me to?” You ask concerned. You would never want to even imagine that Joel isn’t feeling loved enough, that you’re not giving him enough, despite all the things you do for him. You reach out for him, waving your hands toward yourself to motion him closer. His head is hung, staring at the couch’s cushions as he scoots himself to you. “I can start telling you all this stuff. I- Honestly I didn’t think you’d want to hear it.” You giggle nervously and take a sudden interest in the couch's patterns.

Joel’s shocked to his core at your words but quickly takes your opening. “I’d really like it if you’d tell me... I get worried that maybe you don’t- “ He takes a deep breath, his chest heaving with a sigh. “That maybe you don’t like me as much as I-” You cut him off with a hurt, yet firm, “No!”

“Joel you’re so so-” You grunt, unable to explain the way he makes you feel. “You just- You’re everything good, and positive, and amazing in this world.” His entire body relaxes as he lets out a relieved sigh. “You’re perfect. You can’t even argue with me on that. You’re literally my dream guy. You’re kind, even though you’re hot enough that you probably don’t even need to be as nice as you are. You care about me and my feelings even though I’d probably just let you use my body, and throw me away if you really wanted. I-” You pause and take a breath- already worried about how he’ll take some of the things you’ve said. You give him a shy smile, a small laugh slipping out at his dazed look.

Joel couldn’t breathe as you spoke. His heart was swelling at every word, but there was also a dull hum in his lower stomach that was growing the longer you did. It flares up when you meet his eyes, giving him that pretty smile he loves so much. His head is all jumbled up. He doesn’t know if you’ve asked him something or if he should be responding. All he knows is that he really wants- really needs more. “Can-” He clears his throat, stalling and trying to clear his mind a bit. “Could you tell me more about- about my looks? How-” He feels anxiety flare in his chest as he requests. He’s looking at his hands, examining his knuckles, completely terrified at how you’ll react to the request, scared that you’ll have a look on your face that’ll break his heart. “How do you feel about ‘em?”

Joel has to fight the urge to run his fingers through his hair, run his nails along his beard to comb it and maybe cover the patches. He’s already regretting asking you. He didn’t get enough sleep last night, he probably has bags and he can’t even begin to think about how many gray hairs he has littering his head, and his beard. This shirt is a little too tight too, he can feel his stomach pressing against the fabric.

What do I expect her to say? Fuck, this was a stupid fuckin’ idea. I should’ve at least looked in goddamn mir-

His thoughts are cut off by a squeal and your shaking body. You’re wiggling yourself back and forth on the couch, bouncing in excitement. “Oh my god, Joel, I have so much to say.” He’s astonished at your excitement, at how eager you are to praise him. He can feel the humming in his stomach intensify. “You’re so-” Your voice drops to an adorably shy whisper. “You’re so fucking hot.” He lets out a soft gasp as you straighten your back, place your hands in your lap, and put on a semi-serious face before speaking.

“So the first thing that’s coming to mind right now is your thighs.” His eyes flicker down, but it doesn’t clarify anything. “How big they are, how thick and meaty- Ugh! I love them so much!” His heart warms and his pulse races at the way you’re smiling, as though telling him these things brings you actual, genuine, joy. “So next I’d like to mention your arms- oh, your arms. They’re so thick, you’re so strong” Your hand comes up slowly to squeeze his bicep, then caress it softly and he can feel himself hardening in his pants. He finally understands the feelings your words cause, he’s grateful, feeling incredibly loved, and insanely turned on.

“Now I wanna talk about your shoulders! Okay so, what really messes me up like- in general, is how fucking-” You take a shaky breath, that shy smile on your face again as you look at his lap, almost crying at how empty it looks. He notices your hesitance, where your gaze is and he sits back, opening his legs a bit wider and tilting his head toward it. He’s ready to have you on him, for you to know how this is affecting him. His breathing is already speeding up at the thought, watching you climb into his lap. You gasp, eyes wide, a devious smile on your face as you stare at him after feeling the way he's pressing into his jeans for you. “Joel…” Your tone is teasing but playful, bringing a smile to his face as you settle yourself in his lap.

“You like this? That’s why you want me to talk to you all nice?” His mouth drops open as his hips tilt up, pressing into you as his cock hardens fully. You can feel him filling out his boxers as he nods eagerly at you. You’re grinning as he lowers his hips back down but keeps a small grind for his personal sanity. “Can you keep-”

You’re nodding and continuing before he can finish. “You’re so big, Joel.” The compliment comes out as a whine and you tilt your hips toward him, pressing your chest against his, and your clit into the tip of his dick. He’s groaning your name and bringing his hands to your hips, pushing you into him. “You’re so broad, m-makes me feel so safe.”

He’s kissing your cheek as you speak, grinding up into you, and pressing your hips to him. Your head is getting clouded, consumed with your love for Joel, with the pleasure you’re giving him. “You- Your hair.” His heart stutters slightly, nervous about what you’ll say. “The curls, and it’s so soft and-” Your eyes slip shut as your hips take over, moving on their own as you grip Joel’s hair, pulling him into your chest. “The salt and pepper look is so good, Joel.”

“Fuck me.” His eyes roll back and his hands push your hips up. His hands fumble with his belt as you smother him in your chest, whining about how much you love him. “Love that this turns you on s’much, baby. It’s so fucking cute.” He can hear the smile in your voice and his eyes roll back as he lets out a sweet moan of your name, pressing the heel of his palm into his dick for a moment.

“Sweetheart, I gotta-” His words are broken by a whine as he finally gets his cock out of his pants, wrapping his warm hand and pumping his cock perfectly. He could cum like this, with you above him, telling him about every feature of his and how it affects you. Your hips are still swiveling in the air as you speak, waiting and looking for something to press against your pussy. It’s the only reason he doesn’t just keep jerking himself to your words. “I gotta fuck you, darlin’. Need you so bad, I want you so much.”

You don’t even look back, you just pull your panties aside, and lower yourself onto him, trusting that he’ll lead himself to the right hole. You’re clinging to his neck as you sink down, moaning his name over and over as he stretches you out. “You’re so tight, baby. Holy shit.” You clench down on him, and pull out of his neck, pressing a sloppy kiss against his mouth.

He’s thrusting into you slowly, hands gripping your hips to keep your rhythm steady. You’re letting out beautiful moans and little mumbles into his lips, not having the restraint to pull away for even one second. Joel slides his hand from your hip, up your back to hold the back of your neck gently, and pulls you away from him. “What is it, honey?”

He’s breathless as he fucks into you, his dick pulsing already. He grunts and closes his eyes as you moan incoherent words at him. You’re trying to answer him, your brain has completely turned to mush from the way he’s pounding into you. “-eyes are so p-pretty.”

Joel’s eyes snap open again. “Your lips are so soft and-” You’re still praising him, still rattling off your list of things that you find arousing about him. He doesn’t understand how you even have this much material, how even though you’re too fucked out to grind yourself on his cock properly, but you can still talk all about how much he turns you on, and how beautiful you think he is. He can feel his balls tightening.

His hand cups your face, sticking his thumb into your mouth as you whine and hump him harder. He’s trying not to focus too much on how warm, and wet your mouth is and slips his thumb out, ignoring the whimper you give. He relishes in the groan that’s pulled from your chest as he puts pressure on your aching, swollen clit. He’s rubbing circles before you can finish your moan of his name, your eyes roll back, and your body tenses. Joel’s in shock at how quickly he’s got you cumming around him. Your pussy spasms and your hips jerk against him with your mouth open in a silent moan.

Joel keeps his finger running over your clit as he watches you cum, still thrusting into you, chasing that last push he needs to fall over the edge. You give it to him without him having to ask. “Fuck me so perfect, Joey-” You pitch up into a whine and tangle your hands in his hair roughly. “A g-good boy, such a great guy-” You’re cut off as he bucks into you, his hips lifting off the couch completely, almost throwing you off as he groans and fills you to the brim.

He’s resting his head against your shoulder, his arms wrapped around you and holding your body to his as he throbs inside you, spilling all he has into your pulsing hole. He's huffing out groans in time with the ropes his dick is spurting into you, his entire body shaking as pleasure takes him over. You’re encouraging him the whole time, talking him through his orgasm, helping him tame the fire that’s raging through him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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heyidkyay · 2 months

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10 Things Y/n Can't Live Without | GQ

Got to watching Matty's old one of these and just decided to try and write one for reader, it's silly and short but if it might be something you're into then I hope you enjoy x

“Hi GQ, I’m Y/n, and you might’ve heard a couple of my songs if you’re stuck watching this- if not, then boo, you suck.”

She pauses, thinking on it, then winces slightly and looks straight past the cameras at one of the shoot’s directors.

“Can I say that? Is that too mean?” Before anyone can actually answer though, she waves a hand, “Ah fuck it, I don’t care. If Matty can act like a twat on his one, then so can I.” She bears a giant grin and then the lens closes in, switching from frame to frame to capture the few items she’s brought in.

“Why are you here then today?”

She blinks and then exaggerates her eyes at the sudden reminder, “Not even five minutes in and I’ve already messed this up. But yeah, sorry! Today, I’ve brought in my ten essential items, and I guess you’re wanting to see them.”

Wiggling her fingers, the scene then changes.

1 - “A Lighter.”

She hums in reply to the voice, looking down at the item and then back up again. “I bet, like, if you had Harry Styles on here, his first thing would be something really nice and lovely, like Emma by Jane Austen. Seems the type, right?”

Scratches her nose in thought, “But no, you’ve just got me.”

“And what a privilege it is.”

She laughs and gives a mock bow.

“Anyway, yeah.” She continues on, fiddling with the clunky silver antique in her hand, “Not much to say about it, really. If you need a light, I’m your gal. Always prepped for arson or the odd joint.”

“Okay, probably shouldn’t say that.”

“Right, yeah ‘course, sorry. Um, don’t smoke weed then, kids?” She points at the camera with a mocking salute before the scene then changes again and she’s asked to flick open the lighter for a different shot.

There’s a click and then the flame dies.

2 - A ziplock bag sits on top of the table. A basic run of the mill seal-again with a fading Tesco’s branded on one side.

“Ah, this is probably my most prized possession, I reckon.” Her eyes dance under the studio lights and a few chuckles can be heard from behind the camera.

“What are we looking at here?”

She drags the plastic baggy in closer and unzips it, taking a sniff of the strong scent that escapes. “Tea bags.”

“Tea bags? What kind?”

“Yorkshire through and through. Here in the states it’s so hard to find even a basic PG pyramid, let alone one of these babies.” She cradles it close to her chest, “Honestly would kill for a brew right now. But these things help me whenever I get a little too homesick- both on tour and when I’m just travelling.”

“Very lovely.”

“Very British.” She corrects with a wide grin.

3 - “I honestly want to meet the person who first invented headphones, because? Wow. What a man.” She sighs, almost reverently, opening up the AirPods case she holds with a single hand, one which seems to be covered in tiny stickers and a difficult to read engraving.

“Reckon they had to have been the world's biggest introvert at the time. I mean, just imagine shoving shit into your ears trying to escape the idiots sat ‘round you, but then doing one better and deciding that you’d much rather prefer to listen to something sick.”

“How are they essential to you?”

“It'll sound dramatic. But I actually feel like I’d be lost without them? In a sad way. They let me disconnect when I need to, and with a job like mine that’s really hard to do at times.”

“And the last song you listened to?”

She smirks, eyes squinting at the question as she glances into camera one. “A demo.”

“One of yours?”

She merely laughs, and the joyful sound of it echoing around the studio space. “No, I wish! We’ll be waiting on that one for a while longer still.”

4 - The next item is slid into shot.

“Ah, my phone.” She clutches it in one hand but looks down at it, almost saddened.

“It feels so stupid to say it’s an essential, because I miss the old days when we were all forced to go outside and knock about. But it really is. It has everything I need to keep me safe stored on there and also keeps me updated on things happening back home, just stuff like that. Plus, it really helps to keep my brain occupied on long flights and during meetings. So there’s always an upside.”

“What kind of case do you have on it?”

Her nose wrinkles as she glances down at the battered protecting she’s had since she first got the phone, and hums, “Just one of them hardshell ones- that what they're called? But yeah, it was a present- very much me, or so I’ve been told- and I was grateful for it. It’s scratched to bits now though, but my screen has yet to break!”

She winces, “I say that, but that’s it now. The next time it drops it’ll shatter, won’t it?”

5 - We watch as she sits a clunky old disposable before herself. It’s black and yellow, and slightly scuffed, but looks very well loved.

“Pretty self-explanatory. Just a camera, I take pictures, these things pair well together.” She turns it on and an unexpected flash goes off, “The price to print film is fucking extortionate though. So, don’t expect a copy of that.” She chuckles, alongside a couple of the camera crew and then slides the camera further down the table.

“If anyone were to get hold of it though, they’d have a proper field day- but alas, what happens on tour, stays on tour.”

6 - The next item is one she toys with for a long moment, looking down at its yellowed pages before settling it down gently before her so that the camera can get a close up.

“A novel?”

She shakes her head, wearing the beginnings of a fond smile.

“No, this little beauty is my first child.” She states, splaying a hand over the cover of a leatherbound journal. Which earns her a few raised brows that she just laughs at before picking the thing up to flick through. “It is! But it’s also your quintessential songbook. Packed full of stories and lyrics and messy scrawl. I’ve got things sellotaped in there too, just as reminders or for when I lack inspiration.”

“What sort of things?”

With a hum, she thinks about it. “Bottlecaps? Um, a couple polaroids... Think there’s a seashell or two in there as well, from the time I was visiting a friend of mine in Barbados. So yeah, I’ve had it for years, just keep adding pages in. Need a new one though. Desperately.”

“Can we have a look inside?”

She peers down the book, hands cradling it almost protectively now, then chews on her lower lip.

“You can say no.”

Her eyes dart upwards again, “No, you’re all good. It’s just personal, you know? But yeah, I can show you the first page or so.”

Slipping off the elastic binding it altogether, the book practically bursts open on its own. She’s quick to flick to the very first page, which sports a couple of film pictures as well as the odd sticker, but is mainly just filled with miniscule scribbles.

The camera zooms in for a closer shot.

“So, all the doodles and wobbly words are just from friends or other writers I’ve worked with.” She points to a little drawing of a t-rex in the corner, “This here, was my mate George’s work. He’s vandalised quite a bit of this book, I can’t lie. But we’ve known each other for ages, and he’s produced and worked on most of my music.”

Then she trails her finger lower and across a couple of names, “There, Lewis Capaldi wrote that I’ve got a great arse, and then Noel Gallager graced a corner with his scribbled signature- still aiming to get Liam’s somehow. But I’m working on it.”

She peers a little closer, looking for another story or detail to mention, “Oh, down here you can see a bit of blood! Like two or three splatters that stain the page.” She grins wickedly and glances back up at the camera, “That was from a time I tagged along to a Bring Me The Horizon tour, way back when. Oli sliced his hand on a guitar string and it was a proper mess. Bit mad looking back on it actually.

“What can you tell us about that main photo?”

She practically beams at the question, her gaze immediately shooting back towards the picture sat in the page’s very centre. It’s square and has its own doodled frame.

“That’s me and a couple of very good friends of mine. Bit of a difficult picture to make out, but only because it was taken with a flash and it’s about a decade old now.” She relays, dropping the notebook down on her forearm so that the camera guy can get a better look. “That’s Hann and Ross, and there’s G’s big smile. My oldest mate, Vin, is the idiot leaning over the shoulder of my cousin, Lol, in that very top corner, and then at the bottom there is Matty and I.”

“Very cosy.”

She smirks.

7 - “Number seven, what have you got for us?”

She huffs around an amused smile, “Do you know how hard it was to think of ten items? Like, if I was back home I’d’ve probably brought my mum’s dog along- or my settee. But I’m not, so I got stuck and as I was thinking about it I figured that these had to be an essential of mine. ‘Cause when I’m with the guys I’m sort of known for always having some sort of sweet treat on me.”

A pack of Haribo is placed down onto the table, alongside a red and yellow wrapped lollipop and a single bar of chocolate.

“So, you lot haven’t got any Tangfastics here- which is, I can’t even begin to fathom how you survive. Someone start a petition, please. But anyway, instead I’ve got these Zing things? Which are similar but not as good, no hate! Just the truth.”

She shrugs gently before opening the packet up and nicking one, then offers the rest of the packet outwards, smiling as a few step forward.

“These two… these are from back home.” She claims as she drags the remaining two items nearer, “The lolly is a drumstick, don’t know if you have them here, or have even heard of them, but we typically get them in mixed or party bags back home. They’re a favourite, but I reckon that’s just mainly down to my mum’s love of them. And then this,” She moves swiftly on, twirling a wrapped chocolate bar between her fingers whilst she smiles, “This is one item I can't live without. They’re the messiest things, but taste so fucking good.”

“What’s it called?”

“A flake? Usually we get them on a 99, but they do them in multipacks and in like your local.”

“A 99?”

Her eyes widen theatrically before she drops her head into her hands, “I can’t do this today. Do you really not know what I’m on about?”

8 - A blue passport is chucked up in the air and she almost topples out of her chair to catch it.

“Ha!” She grins, waving the thing about smugly before dropping it down again. “This felt so stupid to include, but I couldn’t not. I need this for most places I go; hotels, airports… sometimes even a club if I’ve forgotten or lost my ID. But yeah, I couldn't just show you a pack of Haribo and then not include my passport.”

9 - A clinking breaks up the quiet filming they’ve been wrapped up in as they move onto the next item.

“House keys!” She exclaims happily, rattling the horde of keys she now carries.

“To how many houses?”

She rolls her eyes, not unkindly, and then smiles, wrapping the keys up in between her palms. “Three. But don’t worry, they’re not all mine!” She feels the ridiculous need to make known, but she only receives a few curious glances in return.

Taking the first set between her forefinger and thumb, a silver key and brass chub, she shows them off to the camera lens, “These are to my mum and dad’s house, they let me in through the front door whenever I want. Although I guess they're more so for emergencies, ‘cause I still like to knock when I turn up.” She shrugs a single shoulder, swiping through the keys again, “Also have the one to their garage on here somewhere as well- see, it’s that small one right there.”

Next, she dangles a single fob key and another silver cut in view. “These are mine. They let me past the front gate and the other one opens the majority of whatever else. Probably shouldn't be letting the world know that.” She snorts, but ultimately shrugs before moving onto the last of the three.

“And these,” She says as she rattles the chain to reveal a rather large horde of other keys, “Are to my very first flat. I shared it with a mate at first then things evolved and changed, so we moved onto something bigger.”

“Why do you keep them?”

“Why not?” She quips, grinning down at the set, “I mean, they hold a lot of sentimental value to me. Not just in the sense that they belonged to my very first place, but the memories I made there.”

She smiles back up at the camera a second later, now holding a little lego person that had been dangling from one of the many rings, “And there’s this little guy, too. Never had the heart to get rid of him or separate him from the others, so he just stays there. He’s beyond recognition now and definitely seen some shit, I can’t lie- actually, you can barely even make out his face or the shirt he’s wearing. See?”

She holds the yellow figure further outwards. She’s right about how disfigured the thing is, but there’s a slight mohawk to be seen and a faded outline of what once would’ve been its shirt.

“Can you remember where it came from?”

“‘Course! A friend, at the time, gave it to me. I got proper jealous of the one he’d been given at some wedding or other, like, just loved playing with it whenever we were driving and stuff. I did end up forgetting I had them at times though, so he got me one of my own just so that he could finally have his keys back.”

Her laughter is contagious, and she looks to be caught up in the memory of it.

10 - “I haven’t really got a tenth one!”

Her claim is met with quiet protests to which she mirthfully shakes her head at, “Honest! I was really stressing about it on the way over here.” She chuckles before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Have you got a special mention then? Something you’d like to claim your tenth spot?”

She gives a wily little smile, as though she’s just thought of something but can’t say it. “I do.”

A silence settles, and they’re waiting for her to continue on so they can wrap up the shoot, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Well?” One of the directors asks with an intrigued chuckle, wanting to know now.

That smirk of hers doesn’t dim and so she just shrugs, “I can’t say, but they’ll know. And they’ll be so miffed they didn’t think of it first.” She almost cackles at the thought but just shakes her head instead, grinning away happily.

“They?”

“Uhuh,” She agrees and then sits up further in her chair, a sudden realisation hitting her, “You know what? I think this essentially is my ‘get away’ bag.”

“Pretty sure Matty said something of a similar degree.”

A scowl etches into her features at that and she rolls her eyes, “Oh my God. He’s such a copycat-”

…

“You have your ten essentials now.”

“I do! I have my ten essentials.” She smiles into the lens, eyes skimming over the people laid out beyond it, “Honestly thank you all so much for having me, this has actually been pretty fun. Like, sort of got to go down memory lane and whatnot.”

“Glad to have had you.”

“So, I guess the question now is, who’s on next?”

Comments:

@/user actually obsessed w her @/user so many questions 😭😭 @/user Swear I’ve seen that lighter before ⤷ @/user :link to an old instagram picture on @/the1975 account: @/user anyone see what was engraved on the airpods case? @/user A demo?? I swear if it’s one of the bands I’ll sob. @/user HER SONGBOOK. THAT PICTURE. THE FACT THAT SHE HAS OLI’S DNA JUST ON HAND ⤷ @/user They’re so cute. It hurts. @/user i want Lewis to look at my ass:/ @/user George’s lil dino kills me off 😭 @/user ‘What happens on tour, stays on tour.’ WHAT HAPPENS ON TOUR Y/N? ⤷ @/user THE WAY SHE JUST SMIRKS TOO @/user What this video’s taught me, if you need an arson accomplice yn is your gal x @/user The lego man’s shirt!! Definitely a box there. ⤷ @/user And the mohawk too?? Dead giveaway. @/user Her tenth has got to be Matty no? @/user THE WHOLE HOUSE KEYS BIT? WHAT?? Didn’t she share a flat with Matty at one point? ⤷ @/user No, they did. But also “..things evolved and changed, so we moved onto something bigger.” So WE moved… WE 🙂 ⤷⤷ @/user We’re really just skipping over “a friend, at the time” then.. Okay! @/user 6:12 That bit at the end?! They?? This has to be about Matty, right? He’s the only one who’s been on before! @/user Have they always been together? This has me so confused rn 😭 ⤷ @/user Welcome to the club lovely!:) ⤷⤷ @/user At this point I’m actually scared we’ll never know ngl ⤷⤷⤷ @/user They are my roman empire @/user Can we get one of the Derry Girls on please! It’s not a want, but a need.

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