#i will of course be adding my one for miles soon too

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

four walls: alex moodboard

(miles’s version)

[evilmenenjoyer]

City of Love

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!Reader

Summary: Months after winning the Squid Games, you receive an unwanted visit from the man who's been haunting you since the very beginning.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), drinking, sex in a public place, some murderous thoughts. Don't be fooled by the title, it's very much not a fluffy romantic fic lol.

*

The City of Love.

At least, that's what everyone calls it. It felt like the place to be after all the horrors you had endured in the past year – horrors you don't dare to say a word about to another soul. Friends and acquaintances have told you about how great it is, how beautiful, how magical. About how just a few days here will heal any woes in your heart.

Of course, it didn't work. Now you're just depressed in Paris.

It's not all bad. The Eiffel tower looks just as pretty as it does in pictures, especially late at night when it lights up and sparkles. The historic architecture and cobblestone streets are a nice break from the modern buildings you're used to from Seoul, so different it almost erases the memories sometimes. Never for too long. Just when you think you're slipping back into something resembling normalcy, they return in your nightmares in the shape of blood, pink jumpsuits and children’s games.

This afternoon, it takes the shape of a ghost – a tall, handsome man, whose face you’ve only ever seen in dreams and in the subway lines of Seoul.

All color drains from your face in a matter of seconds, all that pink winter flush.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He smiles, like you're an old friend. It nearly throws you off your balance by how natural it looks, like he's not forcing it.

“Beautiful city, isn't it? Especially at this time of the year.”

This can't be happening. The whole reason you left South Korea was to put distance between yourself and those horrific games, and all the people associated with them. To just run into one right here, in a different continent, mere months after your victory; it makes you feel like you're about to pass out.

You stand up from your seat and walk right out of the patisserie, leaving your ridiculously overpriced hot chocolate nearly untouched on the table.

You knew, somehow, that he would follow you, but you still prayed he wouldn’t. That it had been your imagination, or the PTSD, or anything other than the Salesman himself crossing paths with you in Paris.

“I expected a warmer welcome,” a voice behind you says, making you pause your stroll down the street. Fortunately – or maybe unfortunately – you still haven’t completely lost track of what's real and what's not, and you can tell that voice is real, clear as day. He’s real and here and that terrifies you to your very core.

Turning around to face him, you hate how he still looks every bit as infuriatingly handsome as he did the first time you saw him.

“What are you doing here?” you repeat, your voice shaky and not nearly as incisive ad you’d like it to be.

“Visiting,” he replies. He turns to gaze at the scenery around you. In your hurry to get away from him, you didn't even realize you ended up at the Pont Neuf, the old bridge crossing the Seine River. Dusk settles around the two of you, the purple-ish color of the sky reflected on the river, almost too pretty for this situation. “Like I said, France is quite nice during the winter.”

You scoff. “You expect me to believe it's just a big coincidence that you and I ended up in the same place, five thousand miles away from home, at the same time?”

“Small world, isn't it?”

“I’m serious. I did everything you people wanted. I beat the games, I took the money and I kept my mouth shut. You were supposed to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Did what we wanted?” Something in his smile changes, shifts from warmth to something more sinister. “We never forced you to do anything. Remember that. You brought whatever happened on yourself.”

Cold air rushes over you, drawing a shiver out of you. It's not snowing yet, but it start might soon. It's hard to remember you were once excited for it.

He reaches out, ignoring the warnings in your eyes as he runs a finger over the smooth fabric of your scarf, then wraps it around your neck one more time. It’s almost a tender gesture, if he was someone else entirely. It should have you flinching, or slapping his hand away. Instead, it only makes you freeze in your spot.

“Yves Saint Laurent,” he notes. “I see you’ve been making good use of that money.”

It doesn't sound accusatory, but it feels like it anyway. Even after months, it still feels wrong to use the money, despite all the literal blood, sweat and tears it took to get it. Like you should be gathering it all in a pile and setting fire to it in protest. But what would that change? Why shouldn't you be allowed to use it to build a new life for yourself?

So you stayed in five star hotels. So you bought a few more pairs of Louboutin shoes than necessary. Therapy was out of the question, so this was the next best thing you could come up with for the time being. Best-case scenario, a therapist would think you're a nutcase. Worst case, they’d turn you in to the authorities for confessing to multiple murders you had committed at the Squid Games. You didn’t want to take the risk.

“I thought that was the idea,” you say. The Salesman’s hands are still on the fabric, merely touching it, but that doesn't stop your mind from picturing him gripping it, pulling on it until you suffocate in the garment you bought as some empty, mediocre sign of victory.

“It suits you.” He lets his hands fall with no damage to your throat or to your respiratory system. “Much better than those knock-offs you used to wear.”

It disturbs you that he even remembers that. As far as you know, you were only one of the hundreds of people who had played ddakji with him at the subway station. You remembered every second of it, replayed it in your mind over and over again, but there was nothing particularly memorable about you back then. You lost most rounds. You hoped against hope that he would ask you out, even after your cheek was red and stinging.

That was a different version of you. One that smiled more, even with all the hardships in your life. One that was too naive to realize she was selling her soul to the devil from that very first game of ddakji.

“Since the city brought us together,” the Salesman says, “I’d like to buy you a drink.”

It would be impossible to keep the surprise from your face if you’d tried. Those are words you would've loved to hear all those months ago, and now that he says them, you can barely draw enough air into your lungs to tell him to fuck off.

“Why? So you can kill me the second we’re off the street?”

He chuckles, like he finds your confusion amusing. “Why would I do that?”

“Isn't that why you're here?” Why else would it be, after all? Maybe it's part of their sick games; to give one person the illusion of victory, let them enjoy the money for a few months, then go after them and kill them. Or worse, pull them back in.

“If I wanted to kill you, I could do it anywhere.”

You suppose there's no arguing with that, but you're not sure if it makes you feel better. Good news: you're still breathing. Bad news: you're still breathing only until he allows you to.

“You still didn't tell me why you came after me, then,” you point out.

“Let's have a drink, and I’ll tell you.”

You must be insane for even considering this. The naive girl that had first seen him in the subway, coming home late at night from work, would be enthusiastically urging you to go. You’re supposed to know better than her.

“One drink,” you say. “Then you go home and never contact me again.”

His smile widens. “I know a nice place.”

*

He brings you to a piano bar just a few blocks away from the bridge. It's a fancy place, the kind that makes you feel underdressed even in your designer clothes. He blends right in – not only because of the sleek, tailored suit, but because of his demeanor, the natural elegance with which he carries himself.

Not for the first time, you wonder if he was born into wealth, or if he was ever like you. Someone who had to claw his way out of poverty. You can't picture it, but there's so much you don't know about him. It's what makes him so scary and confusing to you, but also so damn intriguing.

He orders for you before you have the chance to open your mouth. Dom Pérignon, two glasses. You raise your eyebrows once the waiter walks away.

“Are we celebrating something?”

“Your victory.”

The response makes your stomach drop. “I don't want to celebrate that.” Not with anyone, but especially not with him.

He gives a small shrug. “Just a special occasion, then.”

The dimmed, warm lights of the bar make the place feel so intimate, almost romantic in a sense. You don't know what to make of it, so you force yourself to look away from him, even when you can still feel his stare unflinching on you. Luckily, the waiter shows up just in time, pouring you both glasses of the bubbly drink and leaving the bottle in a bucket on the table.

You turn back to the Salesman, glaring at him. “I said one drink, not one bottle.”

“You never specified,” he replies, fake innocence in his eyes. “Gives us more time to catch up. Maybe even play a game, for old time’s sake.”

The mere mention of a game makes you want to run away, to lock yourself in the restroom and refuse to come out. It has to be intentional; he has to know what kinds of things would be running through your head, after everything you’d gone through. You take a long gulp of the champagne, nearly done with the entire glass in one go. You can't let him get to you like this. You do your best to look unbothered.

“Do you walk around with ddakji tiles everywhere?” you ask. “Just in case you find someone who wants to play?”

That earns a soft laugh out of him. “No, not ddakji.”

He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out what looks like a standard deck of cards.

“Have you ever played blackjack?”

You have, but hesitation is written all over your features. “What if I don't want to play?”

“Do you think I’d force you?” he asks, like you're a fool for even thinking so. “Like I said, you were never forced to do anything. It's your choice.” He sips his own champagne in a much classier, more contained way than you. Like he's happy to draw this out for hours, rather than wanting this night to be over as soon as possible. “But you’ve beaten much harder games before. This should be nothing for our big victor, right?”

There's a challenge in his voice, in his eyes. You should know better than to fall for it. So why is there a part of you that still feels like you have a point to prove? That feels like, with a little bit of luck and skill, you can finally beat this man at his own game?

“Fine.” You cross your arms over the table. “Let’s do this.”

Pleased with your answer, he shuffles the cards in his hands. You watch him, almost as mesmerized as you’d been watching him play ddakji at the subway station. It's so hard not to get lost in it, but you refuse to look away in shyness and hesitation again, keeping your eyes on him as you sip the rest of the champagne in your glass.

He refills it before placing four cards on the table: two facing upwards for you, one face-down and one face-up for himself, the dealer.

The rules are simple: your cards all together need to get as close to 21 without going over. Whichever one of you gets the closest wins the round. You have a nine and a four, totaling thirteen. The Salesman has a five, and a card that's invisible for you. 

“Hit me,” you say, figuring your odds can't be too bad.

He places one more card to your pile: a seven. Twenty in total. Your heart speeds up inside your chest, already triumphant even before the end.

He reveals all his cards to you: the five you’ve already seen, a nine, and a three. Seventeen. Your smile widens, relief washing over you like you’d just escaped a near-death experience. You don't think beating a game, no matter the kind, will ever not feel like this again.

“Not bad,” he compliments. He reaches into another pocket for his wallet, drawing a hundred euro note and pushing it towards you on the table.

You just stare at it with an eyebrow raised, baffled and, frankly, a bit offended. With the tip of your index finger, you push the bill back to him.

“Do you really think I still need your money?”

“It's just symbolic,” he argues, but still tucks the money back into his wallet. “Of course, we can bet on other things too, if you’d prefer.”

“What kind of things?”

“Whatever you want. You won.”

“Whatever I want?” A grin stretches across your lips as you lean forward on the table. “Like a dare?”

He leans forward as well, like he wants to meet you in the middle. His eyes never leave yours. “Like a dare.”

You wonder just how far he’d take this game, if he would do something outrageous or serious just because you told him to. Maybe not. But even this is the kind of power that you never, ever imagined you would have over this man.

“Okay. Let me see your wallet.”

He hands it over without a fight. You rummage through all of it, ignoring all the cash and instead looking for something else, anything personal. But there's nothing. No family photos, no old receipts, not even a condom tucked inside one of the pockets. At last you find his ID license, the name Park Ha-Joon listed beside a smiling picture of him that looks so normal you almost want to laugh.

“It's not your real name, is it?”

He smiles. “Smart girl.”

“It was worth a shot.” You close the wallet and hand it back to him.

He shuffles the cards, hands them over again. Seven and six. You tap the cards in a sign for him to hit you with one more.

“Do you really want to know why I came to see you?”

Your eyes snap in his direction, not even looking at the new card that’s placed in front of you. 

“I thought you’d be one of the first to die in a place like that.” He looks focused on the game as he talks, “When I found out you were the winner, I wanted to see it for myself.”

Your throat tightens, making it hard to draw in my next breath. You look around yourself, as if trying to make sure you're really here and not at that disturbing colorful scenario, or at the bunk beds in the dorm. Still the piano bar. Warm lights, soft chatter of conversation, piano notes ringing through the air. The mental image of that place still doesn't vanish from your mind.

“See what, exactly?” you ask, even though you know it would be better not to.  

“If you truly earned it, or if you’re just one more piece of trash who got lucky, like all the others before you.”

Your hand must twitch, an involuntary movement you're not even aware of, and the Salesman places another card to your pile. You look down at it in horror, realizing all the cards together total to twenty-three.

“I didn't say hit me,” you protest.

“You tapped. You know that's the sign.” He looks over the cards again, as if just noticing the source of your distress instead of directly causing it. “Too bad.”

It's not fair, and you both know it, but you doubt pointing it out will make a difference. You bite your tongue around any words as well as the lump that's formed in your throat, tears trying to rush to the surface. Your gaze meets his and holds it.

“Are you going to slap me?”

He’s still for a moment, considering it. It's one thing to hit you in the face in a mostly-empty subway station late at night, and another entirely to do it in this sophisticated bar, with all these people around as witnesses. Still, you don't doubt that he would do it. You hold yourself back from flinching when his hand comes out, bracing yourself for the impact.

It never comes. Instead, his hands merely cup your cheeks, tilting your face to face him fully. He looks at you like he's studying you, his expression unreadable.

“Not now. I want something else,” he says. “A round of shots.”

His grip on your face is firm, but he runs the pad of his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone, like wiping away a teardrop that never fell. A gesture that can only be described as affectionate, and it's messing with your head way more than the slaps on the face did.

You nod.

He holds on for just a second too long before he lets you go. He orders the shots to the waiter – you pay no attention to the brand, or even the type of booze –, and you don't say another word until after they're placed in front of you on the table, small glasses so clean they gleam under the light.

“I crawled my way out of that hell,” you tell him. “You have no idea what I had to do to survive. You don't get to sit here and tell me I didn't fucking earn it.”

He looks more amused than anything. “To kill for necessity, anyone can do. It doesn't make you as special as you think it does.” He nods towards the shot on the table, reaching for his own. “Drink.”

You count one, two, three in your head before throwing the shot back, unable to suppress a grimace when the drink comes down your throat like liquid fire.

“Why do you wanna get me drunk so bad?”

He empties his shot glass as well. “Drinking together ensures none of us has an advantage.” He picks up the deck of cards again, before you ever have the chance to tell him you’ve had enough of this game. The words die down in your throat.

One more round. Your cards add up to seventeen.

It’s too risky to ask for one more card; anything higher than four would mean an instant loss. Only then you notice the sweat under your palms, the rush in your ears overpowering the piano music in the background. You force yourself to take a deep breath, to remember that your life is not on the line anymore and losing doesn't mean certain death, even though it feels like it.

He reveals his cards. Eighteen.

“Fuck.”

He seems pleased with himself, accessing you as you brace yourself for whatever he has in mind for you now.

“Come a little closer,” he orders.

You frown, but you find yourself obeying without much questioning, getting up from your chair to slide to the seat next to him on the booth.

He pours you both more Dom Pérignon, and this time he doesn't have to tell you to drink. You focus on the way the bubbles dance inside your mouth, if only to have something to distract yourself from his proximity, from the faint smell of his cologne or from the fact he still hasn't told you what he wants from you for losing this round

His hand lands on your thigh.

You jump in surprise, and his hand tightens its grip there, digging into your skin and keeping you in your seat. Your eyes widen and search for his, a question clear in them.

With his free hand, the Salesman pushes the cards in your direction. “You’ll be the dealer now,” he says, “and for each time you lose, I get to keep my hands on you for one more round.”

Say no, you tell yourself. Say something. A better, stronger woman would throw the champagne in the glass on his face and walk right out of this bar. Instead, you find yourself still as a statue, a sudden rush of warmth overflowing your senses – first, it rises to your face, coloring your cheeks red, then it travels lower to the pit of your stomach and down right into the space between your legs.

You can’t even tell if it’s the alcohol, spreading through your bloodstream and bringing a buzzing sensation to your head that’s not all unpleasant, or the fact you haven’t been touched like this in what feels like forever, or simply the man sitting next to you. How many times had you fantasized about this, until you realized that he was the catalyst of your ruin?

Maybe even a few times after that.

You take the deck of cards. He grins like he knew you would, like a master pleased with a dog following his command. You want to wipe that look off his face, but you can barely concentrate enough to properly shuffle the cards.

If you felt like you were fighting for your life before, it’s nothing compared to right now. The hand doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as twitch until the very final moments of the round, when you realize the two of you are tied. A fingertip slides up the fabric of your stockings until it stops at your knee, your skin erupting in goosebumps following the movement. Your heart beats so hard inside your chest you can barely hear the chatter of people around you as the bar fills in with people.

You lose the next round, and the next, and the one after that. You can’t even tell if you’re doing it on purpose anymore.

With each passing minute that you don’t push him away, that you allow him to test and cross your boundaries, he gets more daring, drawing shapes in the perimeter of your leg and curling into your inner thigh. Your chest rises with a breath that comes tumbling out, the sound of it way too close to a whimper for your liking.

You can tell he notices it instantly, observant and apparently fluent in your body language like he’s spent years of his life studying it. He takes the opportunity to let his hand wander under your skirt, to the spots it hadn’t covered yet.

That’s enough. You need to win this next round.

It’s like, for once, God listens to your prayers. Your cards add up to an even, perfect twenty-one to his nineteen.

He retrieves his hand as if on cue. You thought you would be gasping in relief, but what comes out instead is a pitiful, almost desperate don’t.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t as in stop?” he asks. “Or as in don’t stop?”

Your body answers the question for him before your mind can even process what happened, grabbing his hand and pulling it to the spot where it was. Your skin comes ablaze the second he touches you again, like his touch is charged with electricity.

“Did you know,” you can feel his breath so close to you when he speaks, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “that you were the first person who ever challenged me to play ddakji at the subway? Usually it’s the other way around. Nobody but you ever made the first move.”

It’s hard to concentrate on his words like this, with his body leaning into yours and his hand that still touches you under the table and– whoa, that is not your thigh. The solid press against your core makes your whole body twitch, but you don’t jerk away. You try to focus on the memory.

“I didn’t give a fuck about the game,” you reveal. “I just wanted you to notice me.”

“I know.” He draws small, precise circles over you. “Do you ever think about how I would’ve left you alone otherwise?”

Of course you do, more than you would ever admit. But having him confirm it hurts. It’s bad enough to know you’re the one who caused all the trauma you’ve been through since meeting him, that you could’ve just carried on with your life, shitty as it as, if only you weren’t a foolish girl with a crush on a stranger. But to be in his arms right now, your head falling over his shoulder and your lips releasing a tiny whimper; it just makes it all the more fucked up.

“Was it worth it?”

The smile on your lips is devoid of any humor. “Never.”

“Let me prove to you that it was.”

Just like that, everything stops. He scoots away from you in the booth and stands up, bringing all the heat with him aside from the faint lingering warmth on your face. He leaves a few bills over the table, enough for the entire tab, and walks away.

He doesn’t head towards the front door, instead making his way to the opposite direction. You watch him, confused, for a few moments before you trail after him, past the kitchen and the restrooms until you see the red glow of an exit sign.

A chilly breeze rushes over you the second you step outside, and you expect to see him walking into the dark narrow street. But he’s waiting for you, leaning against the brick wall behind him. He raises his eyebrows in that same condescending way he’s done all night, daring you to make the next move.

You don’t hesitate for even a second longer. You grab a fistful of his impeccable suit jacket and pull him closer, crashing your lips together.

From the start, it’s not sweet or gentle. He digs his fingers into your hips hard enough to bruise, wasting no time before he lifts you up into the air and pins you against the wall. You gasp into his mouth, parting your lips and practically begging his tongue inside. Your legs part almost in unison, allowing him to settle between them and effectively trap you, his larger frame blocking any exit.

As if you would dream to get away.

In one swift movement, he reaches between your legs and rips at the fabric of your stockings, the sound echoing through the empty street. You’re already making quick work of his belt; or trying to, frustrated by your lack of mobility from his position. He doesn’t seem willing to let you go, so he does it himself instead, pulling his pants down just enough to free himself from the confines of his underwear.

You’ve soaked through your panties in whatever time it took to play all those rounds of blackjack. It felt like it was drawn-out for hours, but you know it couldn’t have been more than just a few minutes. He moans when he feels it, before he even pushes into you – a heavenly, otherworldly sound, one you want to hear again and again. You push your hips towards him, feeling yourself throb when he rubs his length over you, burning hot where skin meets even though everything around you is cold. He rewards you with another sound that you drink right in as you deepen the kiss, happy to never have your lips separate from each other ever again.

He pushes the fabric of your panties to the side and thrusts into you without a warning, drawing a strangled, sharp gasp from you. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to the invasion, setting up a punishing pace that pushes you against the wall hard with every thrust. You claw at his back, losing the ability to form coherent thoughts, helpless to stop it as he all but consumes you like this is his last chance to.

“Ah– fuck,” you have to break away from his lips to attempt to draw in some air, your breaths and sounds interrupted by the rhythmic, vicious snaps of his hips into yours. He takes the opportunity to tilt his head and follow the line of your jaw with his lips, to mouth kisses and graze his teeth over your throat.

Hands find their way under pieces of clothing, trying to cling to as much bare skin as they can. He does most of the work, still holding you up in the air with the help of the wall (you curl your toes just to test the waters, the ones on the foot closest to the ground, and they barely touch the pavement), bouncing you on his cock however he sees fit, and it’s embarrassing how close you are already just from this.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so good.”

It’s intoxicating how vocal he is, all the grunts and moans he breathes into your neck, how it rips more sounds out of you than you would usually make. The street is completely silent save for the two of you, not another soul in sight. You could kill him right here and he would never see it coming. Gut him with the knife tucked away in your purse, leave him on the pavement gasping for his last breath. Who would catch you? You have enough money to run to yet another country, to give yourself a new identity and reinvent yourself as many times as you want.

The purse is on the floor where you’d carelessly let it fall, out of reach. Still you run your hands down over his bottom, feeling for any guns or weapons he may have tucked into the back of his waistband, or hidden in his pockets. There’s nothing, but you don’t have a lot of time to be disappointed about it before you’re coming with a high-pitched, broken shout, like your orgasm has taken you by surprise. He holds you up, squeezing you against the wall for support, the only thing stopping you from falling straight to the floor.

The Salesman follows right after, a stream of goods and fucks and your name falling from his lips as he spills deep into you. You wish you had it in you to be offended, to tell him off for it. But all you can think about is how much you wish you knew his name so you could shout it, gasp it, whisper it, for as long as he keeps holding you this tight.

[woniverse-writes]

Dancing with ENHA as their Secret-Girlfriend!Idol!Reader

summary: enha dancing with their secret significant other 

word count: 4.2k

warnings: suggestive at times, not proofread, fem reader

Lee Hee Seung: 

It was public knowledge that you and Heeseung were friends since you had trained together at one point

However it was NOT public knowledge that you two actually ended up becoming a couple after you both debuted 

With that being said, fans were overjoyed any time you were seen together, always thinking your interactions were so cute and wholesome

One day a video of the two of you pre-debut got leaked

It was a clip of a practice video of you dancing to “Bonnie & Clyde” by DEAN

The choreography was good and you both danced well, but anyone watching could tell that the two young trainees were nervous to be dancing with each other 

Fans of both groups thought the video was pure gold though since it showcased how much you’d both grown as performers, and the fact that it was another interaction between their favs

The video trended on social media for about a week or so before the chatter and excitement was redirected to a NEW dance practice video… 

which just so happened to be of you and Heeseung recreating the choreography from so many years in full

It was a well filmed, high quality performance 

The two of you had even gone the extra mile and re-recorded the song as a duet, making it a full cover

Any trace of the awkwardness from your trainees days had been nowhere to be found

You and heeseung were dripping confidence and sex appeal as you danced together

A majority of the dance was spent with the the two of you in close contact- his arms around your waist, your palms trailing down his chest, him hands tracing the outline of your body

you were practically in your own little bubble and that shit read very clearly on camera

Of course your fans went even more feral

Twitter was full of praise for your growth and everyone was saying how you and heeseung must be so much closer now than back then 

(if only they knew just how close👀)

And of course there were some smart fans (that unfortunately probably got called delusional) who could sense the thick sexual tension between the two of you

✪ ‘Y’all- there is absolutely NO WAY these two aren’t fucking😭’ ✪ ‘I genuinely feel like i’m interrupting something’ ✪ ‘Heeseung… if you’re not gonna get to work please step aside so i can have my turn with y/n’

It definitely was added to every single “top kpop moments of 20XX” video and thread

And since you’re both evil-

You each had made casual posts on sns about the process after

‘Did engene enjoy our little throwback collab?’ and the bitch posted a mirror selfie of the two of you sweaty and half dressed🧍‍♀️

Park Jong Seong:

Jay always loved watching you dance

Tbh jay loved to watch you do anything- but dancing was one of his favorites

Any time you had a comeback, he always wanted you to teach him the choreography as soon as possible- whether it was cute, sexy, or fierce- that boy was gonna learn it 

Which meant when the song actually dropped he’d be the first to make a tik tok with you every time

And of course the opposite rang true as well- 

Whenever enhypen had a comeback you were the first to learn the new choreo

The tik toks are always so cute too-

Like- that’s your man so of course you’re gonna be cute with him lmao

It’s mostly because you know he gets flustered so easily when you tease him or flirt with him in front of the other members or staff

It’s especially hectic when your comeback schedules overlap because trust their will be new tik toks every other day

You guys got especially brave when enha was promoting “bite me”...

Instead of just doing the pre-chorus together and posting that like the others, you did the whole pre-chorus AND chorus… WITH THE PARTNER WORK

If fans weren’t already going feral over the boys dancing with partners before, they definitely lost their shit at your mini collab

✪ ‘Oh my god… there’s no way this is real’ ✪ ‘Jay… your hands are a little low there buddy😅’ ✪ ‘So they just casually covered half of ‘Bite Me’ on a random Thursday? Okay cool’ ✪ ‘THE WAY JAY LOOKS AT Y/N OMFG’

It actually took fans longer than expected to realize you were filming together even when your promotional schedules didn’t lineup, so of course rumors started eventually

However it seemed like your fans were just rolling with it since your interactions were fun an cute (they’ve been praying for a collab stage between your groups since debut)

There was one time you filmed with heeseung instead of Jay and it lowkey threw everyone for a loop

Was it intentional? Absolutely not! Well- maybe slightly 

You and your members were curious to see if anyone would react- had your fans even noticed that you only ever film with Jay? (yes, they noticed it right away)

So you can imagine the comments when you posted of you and Heeseung doing the choreo for “brought the heat back”

✪ ‘Uhmmm?? What happened to your man???’ ✪ ‘Omg no mom and dad are fighting‘ ✪ ‘HEESEUNG PLZ TELL ME YOU CAN FIGHT BRO’ ✪ ‘Peace and love but where is Jay…”

Yeah… it gave y’all a good laugh 

There have also been plenty of time where you’ve posted your own little dance covers without Jay, or even just danced to his songs casually on live while jamming out, which always excited fans of both groups

Basically his fans and yours know SOMETHING is going on between you two and for some reason no one really talks about it like you’d expect them to…

Sim Jae Yun:

You and jake had been invited to be part of an end-of-the-year collab stage

It was supposed to be a fun little performance between a few different male and female idols

At the time- the only people who knew about your relationship were your groupmates, meaning it was especially hard to see each other without getting caught

However when your manager gave you the news that you’d be collaborating with a few different idols, and that your boyfriend just so happened to be one of them, your heart started to race 

You attended a meeting with your manager in which you were informed that you’d be working with Lee Isa, Kim Gaeul, Kang Minhee, Park Jisung, and of course Jake

The stage would have three parts- a section for the girls, a section for the boys, and then one where you all came together 

The overall vibe was fun and flirty, and you’d each be partnered with someone

The second the idea of “partners” was introduced, you and jake immediately made (what you thought was subtle, but was definitely not) eye-contact

The meeting wrapped up and you were immediately conversing with you were manager, trying to subtly convey how you thought it would make most sense for you and Jake to be partners 

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was doing the exact same thing

Luckily, it worked and both of your managers were able to get the two of you to be partners

You all began preparing immediately, and since some of the partner work was different for each pair you’d all broken off to learn separate bits of choreography 

You and Jake had begun working on a few different combinations, since the song decisions hadn’t been entirely finalized yet

The first one you worked on was to “Invitation” by JUNNY and Gaeko, which totally fit the vibe of the overall stage concept

Except it was maybe a bit TOO flirty (or perhaps that was just you and Jake)

You were easily able to connect and play into the each other’s artistry

Your relationship had always been full of playful energy and putting a smile on the other person’s face, so dancing together just felt like another extension of that

The choreography was intense and fast, hitting every accent and ad-lib, requiring a lot of texture and groove

but after learning the steps and running it once or twice to get the moves down it felt like second nature, especially since all your charisma and stage presence was really just you having fun with your boyfriend 

Lots of behind the scenes content was filmed and unfortunately… some got leaked to the public 

Somehow yours and jake’s first dance practice got leaked, as well as Jisung and Isa’s and the video of yours, Gaeul, and Isa’s section

This was before anything was announced to let the public know a collab was even happening so fans were shocked on so many levels

✪ ‘We’ve got (your group), enhypen, ive, nct, stayc, and cravity members doing a collab?? Where did this even come from???’ ✪ ‘Gaeul, Y/n, and Isa dancing to “greedy” by Ariana Grande was not something i knew i needed- welcome back “wow thing” collab group’ ✪ ‘Jake and Y/n look like they’re having so much fun together i love them :(‘ ✪ ‘I feel like I've never seen Jake have this much fun while dancing! You can tell he really feels comfortable dancing with Y/n’ ✪ ‘The way they look at each other, oh i feel sick’

Unfortunately after that all the songs and choreography had to be changed :/

Park Sung Hoon:

Close by Nick Jonas

As the main dancer of your group, your company loves to highlight you any chance they get

This resulted in you doing frequent dance videos, collabing with other idols in order to reach outside your normal audience and hopefully attract some new fans

Sunghoon, ever the supportive boyfriend, makes sure you tell him every time a new video is going to be released so that he can have youtube open and ready for when it drops

texts you immediately after about how talented you are and how proud he is of you for taking on the challenges of choreographing and coming up with new ways to showcase your skills as a performer

Sometimes will just randomly pull up your videos and start watching them while y’all are hanging out

You had always told him beforehand who you’d be dancing with and he never expressed being bothered by any of your idol partners-

until he realized you yourself were picking them

You were sitting in his bed one day (watching one of your recent videos lol) when he suddenly looked up at you with the saddest puppy eyes ever 

“How come you’ve never asked me to dance with you☹️”

Oh he’d be so pouty and sulky omg

You’d been expecting that question for a while honestly

“Baby I’d love to dance with you, but would your company let us?” 

sunghoon hated that you had to be logical all the time, so he just rolled over to bury his face in your stomach, and groaned in despair

(This drama queen)

He eventually just wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted his head to rest his chin on your tummy, peering up at you

“Can we ask them tomorrow…”

You couldn’t stop the affectionate giggle that left you as you played with his hair and nodded softly

The next day, you talked to your manager first- proposing your next idea

Now you see- your manager loves sunghoon, your whole staff does really

They all think the two of you are perfect together, and would honestly probably announce you were official right this second if hybe let them

So it wasn’t a problem convincing your team to let you dance with your boyfriend

Of course that wasn’t exactly the case for Sunghoon’s team

It definitely made sense why they weren’t totally onboard with the idea- being worried about dating rumors and such- but you and hoon hadn’t had a single rumor involving each other up to that point!

They eventually caved and agreed, realizing it would be a good opportunity since all the other idols you had invited so far were all known as well-respected dancers in the industry

You ended up decided on going for a more intimate and contemporary vibe than you had done so far

“Close” by Nick Jonas and Tove Lo was the song you had agreed on using, having had already talked about choreographing to this song together just for fun at some point

You had worked with a choreographer from hybe, expressing your vision and showing some of the ideas you had, and the process went extremely smooth

The dance ended up being sensual and emotional, highlighting both of your skills as contemporary dancers

A good chunk of the choreography was spent with the two of you having very little physical contact, but being so close to each other that it delivered such a feeling a yearning

However, the last chorus totally changed the vibe

You two walked backward, facing away from each other, and right as you were about to bump into each other sunghoon abruptly turned around gripping your shoulder and whirling you to face him- leading to a sequence of quick spins and paired movements, finally breaking the pattern of avoiding physical contact

And the rest of the dance spent with you two practically glued together

The performance continued with sunghoon pulling you in toward him, you running your hands up his chest and neck and landing softly on his face before pulling him down to almost meet your lips

The two of you slowly walked together to the beat of the music until sunghoon’s back was hitting the wall

It came to an end with hoon sliding down into a seated position on the floor, leaning against the wall- you sliding down in sync, landing on his lap- his face still in your hands, his hands on your hips, foreheads leaned against each other’s

The choreography was so intimate that unfortunately hybe’s fears came true

The dating rumors were instantaneous…

✪ ‘This is such an unexpected pairing but it makes so much sense’ ✪ ‘Oh! My bad y’all i’ll just- i can just- uhm- lemme just leave the room and come back later’ ✪ ‘I know y/n said this performance was gonna be a bit different from her other’s but i didn’t think THIS is what she meant😭’ ✪ ‘Soooo, is this a safe space to say I wholeheartedly believe Y/nHoon is real?’ ✪ ‘Girl Y/nHoon BETTER be real after THAT’ ✪ 'the thoughts i'm thinking... i feel like my account would get suspended if i shared them👀'

And if that wasn’t enough to get them going, there was all the behind the scenes material as well

Both your company and hybe had released behind the scenes videos of the project, except they couldn’t have been more different

While the one posted to enhypen’s channel was mostly sunghoon being interviewed and shots of him practicing individually, with the occasional partner shot or interaction between you two

Your behind the scenes video had plenty of shots of you and hoon laughing and playfully bickering together

Clips of you finishing the choreography and falling against him, with him wrapping his arms around you and swaying back and forth circulated twitter immediately 

There were plenty of other moments that had fans fawning over your relationship

Such as when you wrapped up filming and sunghoon slid his hands from your hips to fully wrap his arms around your waist and pull you down to lay on top of him on the ground

Let’s just say hybe had to release a statement pretty soon after that

Kim Seon Woo:

Sunoo and you always post together 

vlogs, lives, story posts- you name it

Most fans never really thought anything of it since a majority of the time it was just you two shopping, trying new snacks, or talking about skincare

But there was also so much content you didn’t post

Like the countless couples tik tok trends that are sitting in your drafts (his favorite is the one where you put on lipstick and accidentally smudged it, then the camera turns to him covered in lipstick kiss marks)

But there are also surprisingly a lot of random dance videos you have of the two of you 

Sometimes when you’re hanging out at one of your company’s studios you’ll just turn on a song and come up with fun random choreography 

One of Sunoo’s favorites that you guys have come up with was to “Wildflower” by 5 seconds of summer

It was sensual and flirty, but still fun and cute- and the video conveys that perfectly with how much the two of you are giggling and clinging to each other

It started off really well! Both of you were locked in, hitting the snaps and beats perfectly, your expressions nothing short of perfect and professional 

But the second it got to the chorus your smiles were overtaking your faces as you tried to stay focused on the choreography and not burst out laughing

You still danced the routine perfectly! There just came a point in the dance where neither of you could stop smiling at each other

By the final chorus you were fully teasing your giggly boyfriend by mouthing the words with an overly flirtatious expression while running your hands down his neck and chest, causing him to squeeze your waist and teasingly pull you into him making you burst out laughing, before finishing out the dance with the biggest smiles anyone has ever seen 

You both often rewatch the video and your smiles end up being almost as big as the ones you had in the video

You were sitting with Sunoo one day and asked him if it was okay to post it to your personal account, and he excitedly agreed

However- for some reason you didn’t check to make sure you were on your private account instead of your groups account before you hit post, and without realizing, uploaded your choreography to your groups official instagram with the caption ‘me and my wildflower sunny baby☀️🌺’

It was only about 15 minutes later when sunoo was scrolling through his own instagram when he turned to you panicked

“Baby… you posted it on the wrong account”

“WHAT?????”

You immediately called your manager crying and freaking out, while sunoo called jungwon trying to explain the situation 

Both your management teams came to the agreement that no one would say anything about the video unless it got severely out of hand

They thought it would be best to keep the video up to avoid suspicion, However, you did have to change the caption

Aside from the crazies, most fans were eating it up!

✪ ‘I love that they’re so comfortable with each other, this is so cute’ ✪ ‘Their smiles and giggles🥺’ ✪ ‘I feel like we never get to see sunoo’s dance abilities highlighted, so i’m honestly grateful that y/n shared this’ ✪ ‘Oh they’re so in love don’t even try to deny it’

Yang Jung Won:

You had been hinting to your fans about doing more dance content, but the last thing they expected was for a video of you and jungwon dancing to “two hands” by Tate McCrae to randomly show up on your groups youtube channel one day

The video was professionally recorded in a cool location and the two of you had on cool but comfortable outfits

Basically y’all looked cunty asf and everyone was losing their shit over it but we’ll come back to that

The choreography involved the two of you being in some sort of physical contact for almost the entire thing

And when you weren’t touching, you were face to face staring into each other’s soul

It was lowkey like you were leading the dance at times and jungwon was hypnotized by your movements (which let’s be honest, he totally was)

By the last chorus, you and your boyfriend were in full contact

Jungwon’s hands had pulled you in closely, your hands resting on his chest with his low on your back

There was a moment where you just sensually gazed into to each other’s eyes, caressing each other while you mouthed the words to the song

Jungwon leaned in closing his eyes, fully preparing to kiss you, but you teasingly turned your head back toward the camera right as your lips were about to meet, giving a flirtatious wink and smile

The turn caused jungwon’s lips to brush your neck, but the way it was captured by the camera made it hard to tell if he actually made contact with your skin

The rest of the dance consisted of one or both of you having your hands on the other without a break, never breaking the connection 

There was even a part where you had your hand on your boyfriend’s face and he followed your movement, seemingly hypnotized by your touch

Jungwon’s hands quickly found their place on your hips shortly after

The dance finished with two posing- you in front of him, reaching behind to place your hand on the back of his neck, as he placed his hands on your hips

Won gently rubbed your hip as he waited for the director to call cut, ad when they did he collapsed against you, fully wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into your neck

(That cute moment was captured and posted on your instagram story after the official video dropped)

Speaking of social media…

The thing is, both you and your boyfriend are chaotic and slightly evil, so the second the video dropped y’all were refreshing twitter to see people’s reactions

✪ ‘Oh okay so they’re a thing’ ✪ ‘Yang Jungwon and L/n Y/n… WHAT IS THIS????’ ✪ ‘So like- do y’all need a third or…’ ✪ ‘HIS LIPS WERE LITERALLY ON HER NECK I’M NOT CRAZY’ ✪ ‘Need whatever they’ve got goin on real bad’ ✪ ‘Jungwon heard the lyrics “your two hands on me at all times” and took that shit literally wow’ ✪ ‘Y/n turning to look at the camera right as won is about to kiss her… GIRL MOVE IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA KISS THAT BOY’ ✪ ‘The hand placement, oh i’m so fucked’ ✪ ‘L/n Y/n the woman you are…’ ✪ ‘The way Jungwon’s movements get obviously more desperate at the end of the choreography when Y/n has her hands on his face… WALK HIM LIKE A DOG MAMA😛’

You and Jungwon were giggling and saving posts were a good two hours

Nishimura Riki:

It wasn’t unusual for you and ni-ki to hang out in a practice room and just jam, coming up with random choreography combinations for fun

It also wasn’t a secret that the two of you knew each other and hung out, but most just assumed you were friends since you had also hung out with other members of enhypen before 

However neither of you had ever posted anything together aside from mayne a couple of tik toks

So it came as a shock to his fans (and yours) when Ni-Ki went live, only for everyone to see him cozied up in one of hybe’s practice rooms with you 

The live started with the two of you laying on the floor with the phone propped up against the mirror wall at the front of the room, just chatting and giggling over random stuff (losers in love)

In fact Riki was so chatty that fans were even starting to comment on it

‘The only time Riki has stopped giggling or yapping has been to listen intently to y/n..’

‘I swear these two are so chatty together, what's going on??’

Eventually you guys started getting antsy and decided to turn on some music and jam again

It was just some ciphering back and forth for a while until “pour up” by DEAN came on and you froze and made eye contact

“Should we do it?” Ni-Ki asked in regard to the choreography the two of you had come up with to the song earlier that week

“I mean… why not?” you shrugged with a mischievous smile

“It’s a little… risky- don’t you think?” he giggled while unconsciously moving closer to you, but you just giggled in return before starting the choreography while holding eye contact

He laughed a bit in shock, watching you dance for a few more seconds before joining in

By the time the chorus arrived the two of you were locked in, facing forward again toward the camera

It seemed like pretty tame choreography at first with a slightly sensual 

Until the second verse came

You and Riki started crossing paths and interacting more within the choreography, showing off just how much chemistry you have together as dance partners

There were plenty of little moments with little flirtatious touches here and there but the connection was on full display by the last few seconds of the song, with Riki’s arm draped casually around your waist as the two of you swayed side to side

You pretended to walk off as the song ended, still feeling the vibe, but as soon as the next song started playing you screamed dramatically and fell to floor in a heap of embarrassment, leaving your boyfriend to laugh at you from behind

Ni-Ki walked past you back to the phone to check the comments and he noticed the viewer count has tripled since before you started dancing

✪ ‘They way they just casually match each others vibe like it’s nothing’ ✪ ‘So can we all agree we need more Y/n and Riki dance content??’ ✪ ‘I would 100% be asking “what are we?” after this…' ✪ ‘Y/n falling to the ground and screaming after, she’s so real’ ✪ ‘OMG LOOK AT HOW RED THEY ARE NOW AWWWW BABIES’

Neither of you could look at each other without giggling for the rest of the live

notes: hey y'all... i'm back (kinda)

[rootedinrevisions]

Let Me Be There With You

KINK: Phone / FaceTime Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (Masturbation)

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The house felt empty without Tyler, the silence filling every corner as you slipped into bed, the sheets cool against your skin. Outside, the sky was darkening, clouds thick and heavy, rumbling with the distant growl of a storm moving in. It seemed like the weather had barely paused this season, and neither had Tyler. He was somewhere out in Oklahoma tonight, chasing down another storm, and each night that passed only made you miss him more.

You grabbed your phone, staring at his contact photo for a moment before pressing call. The familiar sound of his voice picked up after just one ring.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said, his voice soft but filled with that warm, unmistakable charm.

“Hey,” you replied, already feeling a little bit of the ache ease just hearing him. “You busy?”

“Never too busy for you,” he answered, his tone warming you instantly. “Been thinking about you all day.”

You settled back against the pillows, letting out a soft sigh. “Miss you, Ty. Feels like forever since you’ve been home.”

“I know, baby. I hate being away this long. These storms are just keeping me moving nonstop. But the whole time, all I can think about is getting back to you.”

Your heart fluttered, the familiar way he made you feel safe and cared for even from miles away. “It’s not the same without you here. Everything’s just a little too quiet.”

He chuckled softly. “Guess we’ll have to change that as soon as I’m back.”

There was a pause, comfortable yet charged, the words unspoken lingering between you both. Tyler seemed to sense it too, his voice turning a shade lower.

“Gotta be honest, sweetheart, this is driving me crazy, being away from you like this,” he murmured, the warmth of his tone unmistakable even through the phone. “Just want to be there, holding you right now.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your pulse quickening as your fingers tightened around the phone.

“Yeah? Miss you too,” you replied softly. “Miss feeling your arms around me. Haven’t had a good night’s sleep without you here.”

You could almost see the way his jaw would clench slightly, that look he’d get when he was feeling just as affected as you were.

“Been thinkin’ about that every night,” he admitted. “The way it feels having you next to me… your head on my chest. My hands in your hair. Hell, darlin’, it’s all I can think about.”

Your breath hitched at the way his voice softened, each word wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “Sometimes I swear I can still smell your cologne on the pillow,” you whispered, letting the honesty flow.

“Is that so?” he teased gently, his voice carrying that playful, yet intimate tone. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. Let me be there with you.”

You followed his instructions, closing your eyes as his voice poured over you, warm and steady.

“Picture me there, yeah?” he said softly. “You in bed, waiting for me. I’d be slipping in next to you, pulling you right up against me… feelin’ you under my hands, warm and soft. Just thinking about it is enough to drive me out of my damn mind.”

Your pulse quickened, his words pulling you under, making you feel as though he was right there with you. “God, Tyler… I wish you were here,” you murmured, a soft catch in your breath.

His voice grew rougher, that familiar confidence coming through. “Alright, baby, let’s make this feel a little closer. Do somethin’ for me?”

You swallowed, nodding though he couldn’t see it. “Of course.”

“I want you to turn your FaceTime on for me so I can see you, okay?”

You do as he says and turn your phone call into a FaceTime. You smile when you see his face fill the screen.

“Hey there beautiful,” he smiled.

“Hey cowboy,” you smile back.

“Okay baby, start by sliding your hand down, just the way I would. Nice and slow,” he murmured, voice thick with desire. “Imagine it’s me, baby, my hands, warm and steady. Think of me right there, my hand tracing your skin, feelin’ every inch of you.”

You did as he asked, your hand moving down, the thrill of his voice guiding you, making you feel like he was right there beside you. 

“Like that?” you whispered, voice wavering with anticipation. You had flipped your camera around so that it was showing your body, letting Tyler see what you were doing.

“Exactly like that,” he replied, his voice almost a growl. “I’d take my time, lettin’ my fingers trail over your skin, feelin’ every bit of you. Just like I do when I’m right there, watching your face, seeing how much you want it.”

The heat rose inside you, his words drawing you closer to him even from miles away. You let out a soft sigh, the longing building, knowing he was feeling every bit as affected as you.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his tone husky, full of both praise and need. “God, I can’t wait to actually be there, to feel you again, just like this… except it’ll be my hands, my mouth…”

He let the words hang, and you shivered, letting the weight of his tone pull you deeper into his presence.

“Touch yourself the way you know I would,” he murmured, his voice like warm velvet. “Slow at first. I want you to feel it, to feel me. Imagine it’s my hands there, starting slow and steady… feeling you melt under my touch.”

You bit your lip, letting the quiet instructions seep into your thoughts. Slowly, you followed his words, your own hands tracing the path he would take, his voice filling in all the spaces between.

“There you go,” he murmured approvingly, a hint of a smile in his tone. “Take your time, darlin’. I’d want to feel you building up, feeling every bit of you getting ready for me.” His words were a guide, a steady hand leading you through the ache of being apart. He gave you time, patient and grounding, the warmth of his voice settling over you like his familiar embrace.

Your breaths grew shallow, every nerve heightened under his instructions. “It’s not the same without you,” you whispered, though it came out breathless.

“I know, baby,” he replied, and you could hear the tension in his voice too, a quiet ache wrapped around every word. “But just think… in a couple of days, I’ll have you in my arms, and I’m gonna make up for all this time.”

He paused, his breathing audible, matching your own. “Now… imagine me leaning over you, the way I always do,” he continued, his voice growing huskier. “Imagine my mouth… right there. Let your hand follow, baby. Think of it like it’s me, the way I’d kiss and tease, never giving you quite enough. I’d watch you, see how much you wanted more.”

You let out a soft sound of need, letting your hand follow his words, lost in the thought of his touch. Every inch of your skin felt alive, sensitive, almost electric.

“Just like that, darlin’,” he said softly, his words as gentle as they were intense. “I want you to keep going until you’re right there… until you can feel me.”

A warmth spread through you, a slow, burning build that left you feeling like he was right there beside you, guiding every movement. You could hear his breathing quicken as he continued, his voice strained, a raw edge to it now. “God, I wish I was there to watch you, hear you,” he murmured, barely containing his own desire. “Just know I’ll be back, and I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

The thought of him there with you, of his hands, his mouth, his eyes locked on you, was all it took. You breathed his name softly, your body giving in to the moment, guided by his words.

For a long moment, silence filled the line, only the sound of both your breaths connecting you in the space between.

“Sweet dreams, darlin’,” he whispered finally, his voice softer, spent but full of warmth. “Just a little longer. I’ll be there soon.”

“Goodnight, Ty,” you whispered softly.

“Goodnight, darlin’. I’ll be home soon.”

And as you drifted off, his voice lingered, filling the empty spaces and keeping you close, even as the storm rolled on outside.

[lucyrose191]

Could you do Toto Wolff with wife reader? She was frustrated about work and couldn't stop herself from rambling and Toto just shuts her up with a kiss. They get caught by the team and they tease them about it. Just something fluff and comfort. Add something to it if you'd like. Thanks!! :))

CAUGHT IN THE ACT| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Toto Wolff x Wife!reader

Summary; The stresses of work have your mind running a million miles an hour but your husband knows how to slow it down.

Warnings; fluff, teasing.

Authors note; This is short but I hope this is okay!

F1 Master List

You’d never felt such a strong urge to throw your laptop across the room and tell everyone to go and fuck themselves.

Groaning, you pulled at your hair in frustration, why stupid men thought they were able to do your job better than you were able to was beyond you but clearly they had it in their abnormally large heads that they had the skill set for quite literally everything but if that was the case then they wouldn’t be paying you to take care of their finances.

Too many times have you been questioned today as though you hadn’t studied religiously for years to do this job.

"Can you double check your numbers? They don’t look correct."

"This can’t be right, there’s no possible way we’re losing money."

"I need you to review this again, I added it up myself and I got a much larger annual profit figure."

No you can’t double check his numbers because you had checked them a million times before you had sent it off.

He was losing money because he can’t get off his arse and actually run his company instead of forcing the responsibilities on his poor employees that have no idea how to run a company.

And of course he got a different number! He didn’t take the mathematical degree to work out these numbers and had no idea what he was meant to be multiplying and what he was meant to be dividing.

You slammed your laptop closed and pulled yourself up from Toto’s desk and left his office, coincidentally finding him walking towards his office the moment you stepped past the doorway.

He immediately took notice of the disgruntled look on your face and shot you a look that was a mixture between worry and confusion. "Are you okay?"

"Just work," you grunted.

His face contorted into a look of understanding. "Tell me about it," he told you and you moved to lean against the wall, prompting him to stand in front of you.

"I just don’t know why people feel the need to question my ability to do my job today-"

As you ranted off all of your issues to him, Toto simply stood there with a content smile on his face, listening to you venting your frustrations.

He thought you were adorable when you were angry.

He loved the way your forehead creased with the furrow of your brows and the way you moved your hands as you vented and how you’d aggressively force your hair behind your ear when it got in your face.

"-then this man thought that the smart thing for him to do was to include each thing he wanted me to do in like seventeen different emails, who even does that? So then I had to go through each individual one and make a list instead of-"

Toto leaned forward, cupped your cheek and smashed his lips against yours, muffling the sound of surprise you released. It took you a moment to register what was happening but once you did, you didn’t hesitate in kissing him back.

You reached up and grasped the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you, he hummed into the kiss and walked forward, pressing you into the wall before moving his hand from your cheek into your hair, holding you in place.

You channeled all of your frustrations into the kiss, his closeness making it easy for them to fade away and soon you found yourself only consumed by him and nothing else.

The pair of you were so wrapped up in each other in that moment that you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching, only realising people heading your way until it was too late.

"Woah!" Lewis’ high pitched voice had you scrambling away from each other with flushed cheeks and messy hair.

You both turned towards him, only it wasn’t just him, he and George were with about five or six other people, all staring at the pair of you with smirks on their faces.

"Save it for the hotel room, guys." George teased causing the group to laugh as Toto cleared his throat uncomfortably and you looked to the floor in embarrassment at being caught.

"We apologise-" Toto started but was interrupted by a mechanic, Ross.

"Oh no, don’t apologise for the free show, boss. People normally have to pay good money for that, I’m not one to complain."

You cringed at his words as you looked up, taking note of how some people were glancing at the floor to try and hide their laughs whilst others didn’t even try.

"We don’t even blame you," James, one of the teams strategists continued. "YN is looking mighty fine today," he winked causing you to roll your eyes with a smile on your face, knowing it was all in good nature.

"James," Toto stated bluntly, causing James to turn to him. "Yes, boss?"

"Turn around," your husband told him, straight faced.

"Yes, boss," James nodded and turned around, walking back down the hallway.

"We can leave if you want to get back to-" Lewis offered, a cheeky smile on his face.

"That’s not necessary, Lewis, thank you." Toto cut him off.

He shrugged as if to say ‘your loss’.

"I mean- you could’ve at least took it inside the office." George wasn’t one to let the situation go.

"Yes we get it, George, ha ha," you shot him an unimpressed look which didn’t falter the shit eating grin on his face.

The teasing didn’t end there, it seemed that the group who found you and Toto were eager to tell the rest of the team, George even went as far as mentioning what he does when ‘Toto is busy eating his wife’s face off’ in an interview so the rest of the day was filled with subtle comments leaving you and Toto with permanent flushed cheeks.

You both took accepted the teams teasing with smiles on your faces though, happy that you both had managed to create a dynamic that left them comfortable to make jokes around you both.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tim Through the Years - Meet the Class

Series Masterlist

Summary: Tim meets your class of 25 five-year-olds. 1.2k+ words.

“Hey, can I run something by you?” you asked Tim while you were having lunch at his desk.

Tim looked up at you mid-bite of his shared sandwich. He chewed quickly and asked, “Of course, is everything okay?”

You softly bit your lip. “Yes. I know you aren’t a fan of community outreach, but will you come to my class and talk about safety and what to do in an emergency?”

Tim gave you his million-dollar smile “I’d be more than happy to come and talk to your class. I get to spend a whole morning with a beautiful lady.” He leans over and kisses you. “I also get the added bonus of being away from Lucy, too.”

You shoved him slightly. “I think you like the latter more.”

“Hey, that’s police brutality. I might have to handcuff you to this desk all day and then you’ll have to hang out with me.” Tim smiled as he spoke.

“Aw! You two are just so cute!” Lucy said when she walked up to the desk.

“Hi Lucy, how are you?” you turned and asked her.

“I’m doing well! Do you think we can have a girls night with me, you, Angela, Nyla and Bailey? We could go paint pottery or watch a movie or go laser tag or…." Before Lucy could finish, Tim sent her a glare.

“Can I help you with something, Officer Chen?” Tim growled out.

“Our suspect is ready to talk,” Chen said to Tim.

“I’ll see you later,” Tim told you as he kissed the top of your head.

“Bye Tim! Bye Lucy! We definitely have to get together soon!”

You wave them off as you pack up and leave. 

You paced back and forth before school started, waiting on Tim to arrive. You were extremely nervous because your students, while awesome, were very protective of you. They’ve stopped a presentation before because the man who was talking about his job told the class that they could do better than being a teacher. The poor guy got booed and slightly bullied by the group of 5-year-olds, so you just hope that today goes over well. Tim texted you to let you know that he would be a little late due to the fact he saw a crime being committed right in front of him.

When the bell finally rang, your group of students walked into the classroom all chatting away with each other. They put their bags up and sat down in the respective seats (it took a while for them to get down). 

“Good morning everyone!” you tell the class when the second bell rang.

“Good Morning Miss. Winchester!” they responded. 

You started the morning off with doing some freeze dance to get the kids ready to start the day. When that was done, you picked up right where you left off from yesterday. Some students still shouted out answers, but others would remember and raised their hands. You found it adorable how much they enjoy getting to learn. Soon, there was a knock at the door. 

“Class, we have a very special guest today who is going to talk to us about safety.” You walked up to the door, you let Tim and, to your surprise, two more officers in.

“IS THAT A DOG?!?!?!” a student named Ashley shouted.

All the students erupted in excitement, and you had to use your quiet hand gesture to try and settle the class as Tim, a K9 officer, and a small dog walked up to the front of the class. 

“Class, Meet Sergeant Bradford from the LAPD,” you announced to the students.

“Good morning, students, as you heard, I’m Sergeant Bradford, and today I’m talking about safety. Firstly, I brought two special guests with me, Officer Stan with his K-9 Officer Fuzz.”

Officer Stan smiled and greeted the students as Officer Fuzz, a small dachshund, barked excitedly as a greeting.

“I brought Officer Fuzz in today so you can understand what a K-9 is used for and when to approach one,” Tim explained.

“Officer Fuzz is used like any other police officer; he helps us find bad guys and can catch bad guys faster than we can. Officer Fuzz can run up to 20 miles per hour, so we typically send him in to run after someone. Officer Fuzz also helps smell out bad stuff for us to take away. You can approach a police dog at any time with permission from the Officer. If you do see a police dog chasing after someone or he looks angry, do not approach. He could accidentally hurt you because he’s trying to protect his fellow officers or trying to stop someone,” Officer Stan explained. “Any questions?”

Lots of hands flew into the air, so you called on a girl named Hanna to ask the first question. “Does Officer Fuzz stay at the station all the time?”

“That’s a great question! No, Officer Fuzz is technically my dog. So, when I get off work, he gets to go home and be with me. He also goes in when I do, so just like me, Officer Fuzz gets to be a normal dog when he’s not working,” Stan said.

The students continued their questions about Officer Fuzz and his handler. Before Officer Stan had to leave to go back to work, he released Officer Fuzz so he could run around and receive pets from everyone. Officer Fuzz ran up to you last and laid on his back for belly rubs.

“Aren’t you the cutest?” You bent down and gave the tail-wagging dog belly rubs.

“You might have some competition, Bradford,” Stan said with a smile and slightly nudged Tim. Stan called back Officer Fuzz and they both left with waves of goodbyes and a huge “Thank you!” from your students.

“Hello again! I want to tell everyone what to do if they feel unsafe or lost. If you get away from your mommy or your daddy, find a store worker or an officer to help you find your mom or dad. If you are in danger or hurt, call 911 and we will do everything we can to help you. Do we have any questions?”

“What do you do as a Sergeant?” Logan, a young student, asked.

“I am everyone’s boss; I tell them what to do and make sure their job is getting done. I am currently training someone to become a police officer, they are called a Rookie,” Tim explained.

Your students asked as many questions as they could until the lunch bell rang, and the class let out a collective grown in disappointment. 

“Can we have lunch with Sergeant Bradford?” Wade asked, and the other students jumped in to agree.

“I don’t think Sergeant Bradford can stay any longer, he does have to leave at some point,” you said softly.

“I can stay for lunch,” Tim said with a smile. The class cheered and you sent them to get their lunches and to have a private moment with Tim.

“You didn’t have to stay,” you said to Tim as you looked up at him.

“I’m more than happy to. Your students are wonderful,” Tim said with a smile, and kissed the top of your head.

“Did Miss Winchester fix your heart?” Johnny asked Tim, startling both of you. 

Tim smiled and looked at you. “Yeah, she did,” he answered, which caused you to blush.

Johnny’s eyes got all big and he quickly ran out to the other students.

“Guys!!!! Sergeant Bradford is Miss. Winchester’s husband!!”

You then hear a loud scream of joy and all the students running in to ask the both of you a million questions about this new revelation. It was going to be a very long afternoon. 

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life

After The Glimpse

|Masterlist| Ao3|

“You were taking too long,” you say, plain and simple. As if that would answer all his questions. Those eyes of yours land on his knuckles. There’s no reason to hide them from you, especially when you’re looking at him with that sad, sad, expression he painted across your face. It’s in the way your lips wobble, and it’s in the way your eyebrows furrowed together. “I would never leave you.” You press your cheek into his palm, nuzzling into it even as blood transfers to your skin. “Nothing will keep me from following after you.” Alastor swipes his thumb across your face. “Even to the depths of hell?” “Even past that, my dear.”

Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor , being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. human! Alastor

THIS CAN BE READ AS A STAND-ALONE Please read this. I'm begging you, but no pressure!

WELL, WELL, WELL. Here we are again. I'm doing three to four bonus chapters. If you want to be tagged, just tell me lol. I didn't think I would be adding a bonus chapter for this fic, but oh well, here we are again. I've missed you guys and I've missed writing my favorite married couple. This is also a special thank you to my friends from VoxTec (Yes, we're friends. I claim you as my friends.) I would have been done with my this fandom if it wasn't for them. Say thank you to them because I've been writing because of them

|Part 9: The Vows That Bind Me [Finale]| |Part 11: Before The Last [Bonus]|

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Alastor needs better car seats.

It’s official – your ass is numb from sitting too long. It spread down your thighs, and straight into your bones. A walk would certainly fix this problem, but you’ve already taken five in the past hour.

Maybe, this wouldn’t be an issue if Alastor invested in comfortable seats. All that money from being a celebrity, and yet, he drives a shit car!

You lean your head on the window, subtly stretching your legs to increase blood flow.

Moonlight illuminates the area around, painting shadows in the shape of trees. It’s the only source of light for miles because of course, it is.  The trees howl from the force of the wind, and the shadows dance against the car window.

Well . . . that totally does not bring a chill up your spine. There’s totally no reason to shrink deeper into the shitty car seats. Really, it’s not creepy – not one bit.

“Tired already?” Alastor peeks out an eye. He’s settled on the seat, hands folded across his stomach. “It would bring me great joy to say, ‘I told you so’ because I did tell you, dearest, these things take time.”

Something hoots from the forest, and you’ve had enough.

You lean away from the window, and straight into Alastor’s side. It’s funny, really, how the simple brush of his clothes, and maybe, just maybe, the darkness outside doesn’t seem as frightening as before.

“I haven’t said anything yet, but I didn’t think it would take this long,” you say, mumbling into him, and pull your legs up the seat to curl closer. “I told you I wasn’t going to complain. So, I won’t.”

Alastor pushes your knees, forcing your feet off the car seats.

You laugh into his chest, and settle deeper into him, with your feet staying where it should be—off his shitty car seat.

Alastor wraps an arm around you, tracing circles on your arm with a slight chuckle. The tips of his finger go round and round and round. It pulls you into the lull – eyes blinking to stay awake. A small tune escapes him, and the vibration of his chest forces your eyes to shut.

“I won’t make you wait too long,” Alastor says into your hair. “The drugs will wear off soon, remember. I’ll make quick work of him, and we can go home together.”

A small hum. “Is that a promi— ”

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Panicked roars of anger bounce against the small space of the trunk, startling you out of Alastor’s arms.

Fists bang into the trunk over and over and over and over again, but the thick metal muffles his desperate attempts to escape. How curious of him to try and fight back. Does he not know how much energy he’s wasting?

“Now, now, you should be resting.” Alastor pulls on your arm, crashing you back into him. “Give it a few minutes. He’ll calm down, eventually. Panicked animals are such a bother to deal with.”

“Al . . .,” you mumble as you settle back into his arms, and grip part of his shirt into your fist. “Is it always this loud?”

“Sometimes.” Alastor resumes tracing your arm. “It doesn’t happen often enough for it to become a problem for me.”

The pull of home calls out, tempting you with the soft allure of warmth and peace . . . but . . . but, all the warmth and peace you could ever need is right here, next to you, tracing circles into your arm with a small smile. You’re already home.

If Alastor continues to lull you to sleep, maybe you wouldn’t mind living inside this car with him, and only him, despite the shitty seats – regardless of the shitty seats, actually.

Like all things, that frightened panic ends, and so does Alastor’s tracing.

Alastor peels you off his chest, and grips your shoulders. Eyes stare right into your own. It commands your gaze. “This is important, dearest. Stay in the car, and whatever may happen—you are not to follow me.” His grip tightens. “If I take too long, I need you to leave me.”

“That . . . that wasn’t our deal, Alastor,” you say, frowning.  Something settles in your stomach. You don’t like this—not one bit. “We agreed I would be there to watch.”

“Now, now, stubbornness will get you nowhere.” Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose. “I allowed you to watch from the car— you watched as I drugged him, and watched as I stuffed him in the trunk. Be good, and promise me you will stay here.”

“Deare—”

Alastor places a finger on your lips, shushing you. That smile on his face makes you want to scowl. The absolute audacity!

“I’m not above putting my own wife inside a trunk,” he says, and flicks your nose. “It’s dark outside, and if I accidentally shoot you . . . well, it would be quite bothersome to have to bury you as well. Think about what the papers would say when you go missing!”

You slap his hand away. “Radio Star so Incompetent His Wife Leaves Him.”

“Hilarious.” Alastor rolls his eyes, showing off how he does so.

“I’ll stay up in the trees.” You play with the tips of his fingers. “Surely, your aim isn’t that horrid.”

“I’ll be running around and moving all over the place. You’re not familiar with this part of the forest.” Alasto presses a kiss on the edge of your lips. “I’ll return to you, but you need to stay here. Leave if you have to.”

One, single nod. It’s the only response you’re able to give.

Denying Alastor will never be an ability available to you, not when he’s looking at you with eyes that are oh, so soft.

Alastor tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and steals one last kiss. “I won’t make you wait too long. That’s my promise to you.”

The car door opens with a click, and it’s not the icy air that chills your spine.

You . . . you don’t want him to go. It’s weird, actually. Why do you find yourself grabbing his hand? It stops Alastor before he can take a single step out of the car.

“Or, you can kill him right here. Shoot or slice him or whatever.” You squeeze his hand. There’s a nagging voice that tells you to keep him in your sight. “Just . . .  just . . .”

Just what?

Alastor squeezes back. “That would spoil all the fun!” he says, but the car door closes anyway. He settles back into the chair, and his thumb goes up and down your skin. “I have to give him hope that there’s still a chance to fight back.”

What exactly do you want to happen? What exactly do you want to tell him?

Don’t go where I can’t follow.

“I don’t like this,” you say, instead. “Al, I don’t like this at all—not one bit.”

“Ha!” His laughter bounces across the air. “Dearest, are you worried for me?”

“Yes, I am.” You play with the ring around Alastor’s finger, and place a small kiss against the metal band. “Don’t be so surprised—of course, I’m worried.”

Alastor pulls back his hand, and it takes everything not to reach out for him.

Three taps —Tap. Tap. Tap. That’s all it takes, and your fist open automatically. Alastor drops his ring into your open palm. It’s clean and polished as if it’s regularly maintained.

Oh . . . oh, he’s giving back his ring.

“What’s going through that head of yours?”

“Hopefully, something foolish,” you say, trying to give him a smile.

“That’s impossible. There’s nothing foolish about you.” Alastor pulls your hand closer, and he slips his own ring around your finger. “Don’t give me that look— I want this back.”

Alastor’s ring is bigger than your finger. It’s a bit loose, but it won’t slip out easily.

“Then I’ll give it back.”

“What a silly and ridiculous wife to exist with.” Alastor boos your nose. “It’s quite exciting to learn you’re capable of such worry. I’m honored that it’s me you’re worried about.”

“I . . . I’m capable of worrying about you.”

Alastor pulls his jacket around your shoulders, wrapping it like a blanket. “This world could burn around you, and I don’t think you would care.”

“It’s cold outside. You need this more than I do.” You push the jacket towards him. “ . . . This is me, caring about you.”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, and re-wraps the jacket around you. “Silly and ridiculous!”

The urge to stop him, to grab on to him and never let go . . . it never fully disappears. You keep your hands busy. It plays and twirls with the two rings around your finger.

The car door opens, and this time, Alasto steps out.

The faint smell from Alastor’s jacket warms you with the scent of home, and your eyes shut.

Time passes, and you don’t know how long it does. But the truth sinks its unforgiving claws into you; Alastor is taking too long.

Moonlight reflect against the rings around your finger, and the decision is made.

Alastor didn’t want you to freeze. It’s why he left his jacket to warm you. So, you put it on, wrapping it closer around your body. The car door opens, and warmth and peace and home guard you against the chill.

There’s a shovel at the back seats . . . It’s better than nothing.

“Alastor . . . Oh, my love,” you call out into the wind. “Don’t go where I cannot follow.”

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Alastor.

Alastor? Tell me what’s happening right now.

The grip around his neck tightens, and Alastor knows he made a mistake. That nostalgic tase of boyhood hits him. It’s in that paralyzing tune of helplessness. It’s in that choke-hold of fear. A familiar friend—one he hasn’t seen since before Alastor took his first victim.

It’s not supposed to be like this.

Alastor lost track of him between the trees and their shadows. It only took one, single second. A slight miscalculation that won’t be happening next time.

You would need to be alive for there to be a next time, love.

That . . . that’s your voice. This should be impossible, yet Alastor knows it’s you who’s calling out to him. You should have left hours ago—that was the agreement. Great, he’s going insane from the lack of oxygen. His brain conjured up your voice from the deepest parts of him. Of course, it would be you projected during his crazed attempts to breathe.

Alastor.

Tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter. It . . . just . . . never ends.

Spots flood his teary vision as everything grows dimmer. Alastor can barely see the man’s desperate expression. Such a shame, too. You would love to hear about his pathetic whines, and Alastor would love to describe it to you.

Alastor?

That was you calling out for him and only him. The way you say his name . . . It’s in that oh, so soft voice of yours. His eyes flicker towards the side, and through the tears, and through the spots, Alastor sees you as clear as day.

There's that small smile on your face as you squat next to him. Oh, my dear. You might actually die soon if you don’t do something about this.

Alastor can’t breathe. Oh god, he can’t breathe. Everything loses its color. It bleeds into one big blank of nothingness.

Alastor . . . Alastor?

It’s too dizzying. The desire to breathe burns his lungs. It begs for any mercy, for any relief, for any air. What can he do? Nothing. Just like when he was a child. Nothing has changed. No, that’s not true! Alastor didn’t have you before, and that simple face means everything is different. He reaches out for you, trying to say that he can’t brea—

Alastor, what’s your plan now?

There are no plants. There’s nothing . . . except you. Of course, it’s you. His brain is reverting back into its most basic of instincts, and it decided that you were his most basic instinct.

Well, what do you know?

Seconds—that’s how long Alastor has.

There are seconds of consciousness left. Precious second before he stops seeing you. Death wasn’t a problem – it’s never scared him before – but Alastor is a man of his word, and currently, he’s breaking the promise he made to you.

You’re rolling your eyes at him.

Alastor wants to summon the energy to tell you to stop it. Even in his mind you were infuriating, but . . . but, you’re smiling at him, and those eyes of your crinkl—

WHACK!

Air forces itself into his lungs in quick breaths. Alastor gasps for air, each breathing burns his lungs. The man crumples away from him, and those large hands leave his neck. That paralyzing tune of helplessness disappears.

You said you wouldn’t make me wait for too long.”

It’s . . . It’s you.

There’s a shovel raised above your head, coated in the man’s blood. Alastor stares at you—he stares at that eerily calm expression on your face. It travels up his spine with a chill, but it’s warmth that settles into his cheeks. It strikes him then and there. Alastor has never told you how beautiful you are in his eyes.

Just a second, that’s all he nee—

Alastor doesn’t have a second.

The man rises, clutching his head with fury written all over his expression. His eyes land on you, then the shovel, and the man charges in your direction with a bellow.

You bring the shovel closer towards your chest, eyes widen with frozen legs.

One, single step back – that’s all you’re able to take. Even then, it’s just not enough. The distance grows shorter, and every second Alastor spends gasping for air . . . It brings you a second closer to danger.

Alastor made a mistake, and this world will set ablaze with his fury, burning everything and everyone around him, if he allows this animal to touch even the smallest smile on your lips. It’s that precious to him, and that makes him dangerous.

Alastor stumbles across the mud, pushing himself past his highest limit for you and only you. Fire burns his lungs as air forces itself into his body. It spreads to the very tips of his finger, but Alastor cannot stop. There’s a reason to keep going. There’s a reason to keep running.

The man charges at you with speed, but Alastor has a reason to be faster.

Alastor tackles the man into the tree. A cry of pain rattles the leaves. He doesn’t know who it belongs to. It doesn’t matter, not to him, as long as it wasn’t from you.

What is he doing?

How . . . curious. The sweet tune of violent anger calls out, tempting him to give into his fury. Alastor’s never heard such a call before.

His fists go up and down and up and down and up and down. Each strike burns. The pain of split knuckles cannot stop him. All Alastor knows is that he needs to make this man suffer. Such violence should scare him, but he isn’t afraid – not one bit.

How dare this . . . this animal try to touch you. How dare he. How fucking dare he. Alastor will break every bone in his body, relishing in the cries of his screams. No, that wouldn’t be enough. Nothing Alastor could do will ever be enough to quell this burn. Not even death will be able to keep Alastor from—

“Alastor.”

The way you call out for him . . . the way you say his name in that oh, so soft voice of yours . . . It cuts through the burning haze. Not once has he ever had the ability to deny your calls for him.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

That’s blood dripping down his fingers. Each drop falls to the ground, and sinks into the earth below. It's funny, really. Alastor doesn’t know who the blood belongs to – it could be from his split knuckles or it could be from the man’s broken body.

What expression is he making right now? Alastor can’t bear to face you, not right now.

“Dearest,” you call out for him, and reach out a hand for him. “Come on, now.”

He takes a single step closer, and you mirror his movements. It’s like a funny little dance – the more steps he takes, the more steps you take – and this dance ends when you’re a breath away.

Alastor grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. “You were supposed to leave,” he says, and fuck! The tone of his voice automatically softens because . . . because you’re gripping on to him with fingers that tremble. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

This small part of him wishes he left you in that trunk. You were supposed to be in the car – safe.

The breathing part of him is thankful he didn’t. Who knows what would have happened to you if he died, and left his wife inside a car trunk. Oh, you would be furious at him! He would never hear the end of it.

Alastor takes the shovel from your shaking fingers, peeling it off your hold, and replacing it with his hand.

Despite that eerily calm look on your face, the way you tighten your grip tells him everything he needs to know – you’re more rattled than you’re willing to admit. Alastor traces your hand with the gentles of touches, sliding his fingers across your knuckles and into the back of your hand.

He brings your fingers to his lips, giving it the smallest of kisses. “I would appreciate an answer, my love.” 

“You were taking too long,” you say, plain and simple. As if that would answer all his questions.

Those eyes of yours land on his knuckles. There’s no reason to hide them from you, especially when you’re looking at him with that sad, sad, expression he painted across your face. It’s in the way your lips wobble, and it’s in the way your eyebrows furrowed together.

“I would never leave you.” You press your cheek into his palm, nuzzling into it even as blood transfers to your skin. “Nothing will keep me from following after you.”

Alastor swipes his thumb across your face. “Even to the depths of hell?”

“Even past that, my dear.”

You bring out a handkerchief from your pocket. It’s simple work, really – automatic, even – to dab on his wound, and wrap his knuckles with the softest of touches. You press a light kiss on top of it as if doing so would make it feel better. (It does.)

The tips of your fingers reach out for him. It’s instinct for Alastor to bend down at your request, and you push his glasses up his nose, fixing it in place with a smile.

Alastor pulls you into a hug, cradling your head into the crook of his neck.

The way you were looking at him . . . with that oh, so soft smile on your lips. Oh, you were such a foul creature! A second longer, and all this anger would fizzle out. That wouldn’t do – there’s still a job that needs to be finished.

Still, Alastor holds you in his arms until your hands stop shaking, and that grip on him loosens.

“Thank you,” he says into your hair. “Go back to the car. I’ll meet you there in a couple of minutes. I just need to finish this.”

“Is that a promise, my dear?”

“If you’d like.” Alastor traces his rings across your fingers. “I’m still expecting you to return my ring to me.”

A small wheezing breath catches your attention.

You tilt your head towards the side, eyes locked onto the way the man struggles to breath. That shing of curiosity lights up your face. The edges of your lips quiver as you hold your smile, and there it is—the lust of wanting to know more, the lust of wanting to explore the entrail of this man.

“Al . . .” You’re tugging on his sleeve with an elated sigh. “Al!”

Alastor humors your curiosity, leaning down to study your expressions. How truly precious, indeed. “Yes, my dear?”

“Al, he’s a smoker!” you say with such a bright smile that can rival the stars themselves. “I saw him smoking before you drugged him.”

“Is this your way of saying you want me to smoke more, dearest?” Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, right where that line of blood stains your skin “Maybe then you’ll always smile at me like this.”

“I want to see his lungs.” You’re tugging on his sleeve again with such a curious and innocent expression. “All that smoke . . . Oh, Al! I’m sure it’s done something to his lungs. You’ve never given me a smoker before – only alcoholics! I’ve already shown you their livers, right? I can show you his lungs.”

It’s almost . . . cute . . . to see you ramble on about livers. What a life he’s living! Married to the most ridiculous person in the world, who smiles so brightly when talking about a dead man’s liver.

“You have shown me all kinds of livers, my dear. My favorite is still the one with the black spots.” Alastor doesn’t really care about the different appearance of livers but you care for them . . . and that’s enough for him. “I’ve even made it a point to drink less.”

“I want to see his lungs.”

“This one isn’t worth your blade, dearest. I’ll find you another smoker. Maybe a smoker and an alcoholic, too. There are a dime a dozen.” Alastor takes a step towards you, blocking your view of the man. “Now, now. I think it’s time you go back to the car.”

“But Al— ”

“I won’t repeat myself a third time.” Alastor squeezes your hand. “I’ve indulged you for far too long.”

It’s clear that you’re disappointed—that bright smile doesn’t crinkle your eyes. “Alright,” you say, and squeeze back. “Much better?”

No, not at all. The smile on your face is meant to conceal a frown. How ridiculous of you to try and hide it from him. Did you not think that he wouldn’t know what a true smile from you looked like?

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, allowing it to linger. The next kiss goes on your forehead, then to your other cheek. He continues his barrage all over your face until your smile turns a little bit softer. Then, and only then, does he say, “Indeed.”

You walk towards the trees.

“Alastor.” You still for a moment, turning back to him. “Will he suffer?”

“My dear.” Alastor places a hand on his chest, and bows a performer’s bow. “I think you’re forgetting who exactly your husband is.”

There’s that gentle smile on your lips, and Alastor knows better than to mistake it for kindness. “That’s good.”

Oh, these eyes of his! It lingers on you until the trees hide you into their shadows, and even longer after that. Alastor runs his fingers across the handkerchief around his knuckles, tracing the music notes you’ve carefully embroidered. (Alastor knows a secret that you don’t seem to realize; you only embroider music notes when you’re thinking about him.)

Alastor turns back towards the man, laughing as he watches him try his best to crawl to freedom – it’s quite admirable. The attempt nearly succeeded if it wasn’t for his wife.

That’s good.

The way you said it . . . with such a gentle smile as well—it’s sickening. It also crawls up his stomach, and settles some kind of warmth in his face. Alastor brings the handkerchief to his cheek, pressing against it.

What a ridiculous person, indeed.

Alastor hums a small tune that’s carried by the night wind, and presses his foot on the man’s back, collapsing him to the dirt.

“That was a foolish mistake to make.” Alastor smiles at the handkerchief around his knuckles. If anyone was being foolish, it was him – his mistake drove you out of the safety of the car. “That goes for the both of us, I suppose.”

Alastor picks up the shovel, twirling it like a cane. It hits him, then and there; he doesn’t know the name of this man. It’s too late to ask, either way.

“Lucky for you, I promised not to take too long. Ha! But don’t worry, I won’t be leaving too soon.” Alastor aligns the tip of the shovel above the man’s knee. “Let’s take care of that nasty habit of running away. Do your best not to scream too loud! My wife has sensitive ears.”

The shovel goes down, and a scream rattles the birds.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor returns to the car, a bloodied mess.

It’s all over his dress-shirt, and it stains his vest red. Oh dear, some even got onto his favorite bowtie. His clothes would need to go up in flames. There’s no saving it. Except the bowtie – never the bowtie.

It’s cheap fabric, and something he shouldn’t even be seen wearing. Yet . . . Alastor always finds himself putting it on. He would never throw it away. Especially when you make so little, and buying this bowtie took quite a dent on your paycheck. It would take you months of saving just to buy him another one of equal quality, and even longer for something better.

So, Alastor keeps the bowtie.

He didn’t bother dragging the man back with him like he usually does, but he does leave him scattered around in pieces for the animals.

Oh dear!

Alastor must be quite the mess after taking a tumble. That’s mud staining his sleeves, and blood mixing with it as well. The smell must be horrid as well. He takes a moment, and runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame the stands that stick out. It doesn’t work. An irritated click on his tongue – he can’t go back to you looking like this!

Surely, you would . . . you . . . oh, you were worried for him.

It hits him all at once.

A small, giddy laugh warms him to the core. Alastor presses his face into his arm, hiding a smile that you couldn’t even see. Fuck! He runs another hand over his hair, and now, there’s now way he can go back to you looking like such a mess.

Alastor traces the music notes around the handkerchief once more. Another laugh – it’s louder this time, and it echoes across the trees.

Dear gosh, he needs to keep it together.

Alastor runs a hand over his face, calming his expression, and enters the car.

The moment he settles into the seat, you crash into him, clutching tightly even as the blood on his clothes transfers to you. “Home.”

Alastor wants to say something rather silly. With you here . . . well, he’s already home.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

What are we thinking, people? I still got my writing chops. Alaso, this chapter is supposed to be one big chapter titled Between the Glimpse and The Last because it's between parts 5 and 6 ( |Part 5: Glimpse of Me and You: Part II| and |Part 6: Radio’s Last Broadcast|) Next chapter will be a continuation of this scene. WHERE MORE FLUFF WILL HAPPEN. So if you've liked this, follow along. I'm not done with the Hurt/Comfort. Emphasis on Comfort. Maybe a little bit more hurt as well because this is almost right before 1933

[pinksugarscrub]

Hi, pinkie!! This may be weird but happy birthday :D wishing you all the best things and wishes 🫶🏻

(Silly Hobie wishes you happy birthday as well)

(Look at him being silly)

Like The Movies

Hobie Brown x fem! reader (college au)

Hi my love! 🤍 Thank you so much for the well wishes. It isn't weird!! 😠 Who told you that?? As promised, "loser" Hobie to celebrate. (I love my silly little guy. I'm putting him in my pocket).

I just want to say, to everyone who asked what would happen if I didn't win ( @hyperfix-wip )- I guess we'll never know 🤷‍♀️

word count: 1,7k+

cw: dorks, the lot of them

~

The smell of butter soaked popcorn has been stuck to Hobie’s clothes for hours now. Along with a straining headache. Rubbing his temples he tries to focus on the ugly red carpet instead of the screen at the cash register.

Ten more minutes then he was home free. Excluding the quick stop he was going to make to the video game store across the mall. The missing piece for his game cube was finally in stock.

He was debating grabbing pizza from the food court too but with his roommate gone for the weekend what was the point? Hobie really wishes Ned well but he’s disappointed that he’ll be spending his time off without his best friend.

It’s times like these that he wishes he was closer to his family. Deciding and then being accepted to attend university here in New York is a mixed blessing.

He’s learning incredible things, meeting new people, and living on his own. On the other hand, he’s still new to the US and its customs.

It’s exhausting after a while and he can’t even be comforted by anything other than the things he brought with him from Camden.

A beep from his watch alerts him that his shift is over and Hobie doesn’t waste a second in clocking out and discarding the thing he calls a uniform. He’s still polite of course. Says his goodbyes and wishes everyone a happy holiday despite not celebrating Thanksgiving himself.

He must look tired because most shoppers steer clear of him. At the most he’ll receive two or three compliments on his outfit. Or maybe they’re just preoccupied with the sales and discounts going on in various stores.

He mutters an apology as he brushes past a group to step inside the brightly colored store with posters and ads for the newest game. Hobie has learned Christmas lights in November is normal. He cringes as he hears a popular pop song play through the speakers. It’s maybe the twentieth time today he’s listened to it.

“Hobie, hey! Give me a sec.” Ganke pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Gesturing to the box Hobie presumes holds his order. “I’ll ring you up as soon as I can.”

“Course, no rush.”

And Hobie means that sincerely. There’s more than four customers in line with a dozen more circling figures and t-shirts. He may be tired but he knows well enough how demanding customer service can be.

To add a little more reassurance to Ganke’s mind, Hobie points to a random section of games. “I wanted to take a look around anyway.”

Ganke nods with a grin that never seems to fall from his face.

Hobie would consider this store his second home. He is on a first name basis with Ganke and he was even invited out by the younger boy to a flea market. They both shared a love for retro and vintage. Hobie met a friend of his too, Miles. It was the most fun he’s had since his arrival in August.

A sigh leaves his lips as the section he had planned to browse is blocked by a group of teenagers and yes, he himself is a teenager but something about American air made people lose their common courtesy.

He spins, planning to give up and just wait by the counter when something smacks into his chest. Not hard but definitely strong enough that the person who walked into him is sent stumbling back.

An apology spills from his lips and he’s met with one himself. The air from his lungs leaves his chest as he comes face to face with a girl. He knows you.

He knows because he shares a music composition class with you. He remembers because he embarrassed himself in front of the class. Hobie’s only ever written baselines so orchestral music has been a struggle for him.

“Why are you sorry?” You laugh softly. Fixing the bag on your shoulder full of pins and charms. “I bumped into you.”

“Are you ok?” You ask and Hobie isn’t sure what to do next.

He’s mortified that the only interactions he’s had with you (which are far and few) are so embarrassing.

Hobie may or may not think you’re cute. It would be stupid of him not to notice you.

It’s not like he has a chance with such a pretty girl but he can at least not look like a fool in front of you every chance he gets.

“Uh yeah,” he falters, “I’m fine. Are you…ok?”

“Me?” You point to yourself in confusion.

“Yeah,” he repeats. “Did I nick you or something?”

“Oh.” You laugh again as you take in the patches and safety pins on his vest. “I think we’re good.”

When you stand on the tips of your toes Hobie understands what you mean and his ears grow hot with embarrassment.

Hobie is aware he’s tall enough to be a basketball player but compared to you he’s never realized quite how tall he is.

You smile and think about how cute his reaction is. Hobie isn’t shy, not by any means. You’ve seen him with his friends around campus. But you can understand how being out of your element can leave you walking on eggshells.

Classical music is the soul of your being. Movie scores to be more specific, not to mention game sources. You haven’t quite decided what route to take but for now you’re content with going back to the basics and writing Bach inspired pieces.

“Hey, I really liked your presentation. Did you get a good score?”

“I did, yeah.”

Hobie thinks you must be lying to avoid making him feel bad. The professor too because he earned almost full marks.

He doesn’t understand why when his piece was so…awful. Nothing like yours or Flash Thompson’s.

“That’s great! I liked the third movement. It reminded me of um…” You snapped your fingers. “Bowser’s theme. You know, from the first Mario game?”

Hobie doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t, but he laughs.

“What? I’m serious!” You grin as you reach for your phone. Insistent to make your point and be proven right.

“You can’t be.” Hobie almost guffaws. “It was a dumpster fire!”

“Was not!” You argue. Bringing your phone up to his ear after furiously typing.

Hobie looks at you in surprise. Stuck between your outstretched hand and your determined face. After a supportive nod from you and a smile he slowly leans down to listen.

You pause on certain points of the video. Rambling on about concepts the two of you have learned but obviously you know better.

The video takes exactly three minutes and fifty three seconds but you managed to lengthen the amount of time it would normally take to finish and soon enough he realizes you’re not just cute. You’re cute and you like games.

You weren’t trying to make him feel better you were making honest and valid points.

Now he feels like an ass for laughing so he’s quick to wave his white flag in surrender.

“Alright, alright. You win love. Has anyone ever told you you’re a bold little thing?”

“I have been called that on occasion, yes.”

Hobie hums. His lips tugging into a smile. “Don’t ever change.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you return his smile. “I won’t, promise.”

“What are you in here for if you don’t mind me asking? Aside from analyzing my music.”

“I don’t mind at all,” you answer. Feeling giddy. “There’s a poster I’ve been looking for and- tada.”

Hobie chuckles at the glee on your face as you hold up your prize.

“Is that right? Congratulations.”

“Thank you kind sir,” you giggle. “I was just heading over to pay when I bumped into you.”

“Guess it was a good thing I kept you occupied,” Hobie replies. “Line is gone now.”

You turn your head. Peeking over his shoulder to see the register is indeed free now.

“It appears so.” You tap his shoulder with the end of the rolled up poster. “Thank you again. You’ve done me a great honor sir.”

You relish in how much you’ve made Hobie laugh in the last few minutes you’ve talked. You’re disappointed this all has to end now.

Hobie snickers before bowing mockingly. “After you.”

You curtsey in return before walking over to Ganke. You’ve seen him a few times. Normally you come to the mall on weekends not weekdays but with the holidays coming up you had a few days off. Best to take advantage right?

Declining a bag you wait patiently for Ganke to finish the transaction but then he interrupts you from paying.

“Wait hold on, you have a birthday reward today.”

“Do I? Huh, I didn’t know the store had one.”

“Well, now your total comes down to less than ten dollars.”

“Sweet! Thank you.”

You step aside, thankful for Ganke’s chatty behavior because it give you an excuse to stay though Hobie’s own purchase. Both boys including you in their conversation about Hobie’s soon to be fully functioning game cube. Then you’re both walking out the door.

“So…” Hobie clicks his tongue. Anxious as the plastic bag he carries weighs down his hand. “Where are you off to now? Friends waiting at that nice restaurant?”

You shake your head, pointing to the direction of the movie theater. “Nope, there’s a screening for one of my favorite movies. It starts in about…ten minutes.”

Hobie’s eyebrows raise. “By yourself?”

“Mhm, was just killing some time.”

Hobie is at a loss for words. Spending your birthday alone sounds cruel. You deserve to have cake and gifts—the whole package. However it’s then that Hobie realizes he isn’t the only one who could be away from home.

“Mind if I come with you?” He blurts out.

Your eyes widen and in your stunned silence you feel the excitement build.

“Yes- I would love that!”

Gingerly clasping your hands together you happily tug him along. Explaining what movie you had bought a ticket for. Outwardly wondering if there were still seats available.

Hobie doesn’t feel dread walking back to the theater. He isn’t even upset when he smells popcorn again. With a soft smile he keeps his eyes on you. Only getting annoyed when his co-workers whistle behind his back and make exaggerated faces.

[morwap]

WITH ONE FLAT FOOT ON THE DEVIL’S WING

➸ danny johnson x fem!reader

➸ smut | some dark! content | pre!entity

➸ nav | d.j m.list | part one

➸ dom!danny, sub!reader, p in v, unprotected sex, stalking, breaking and interning, mask kink, degradation and praise, spanking, oral m!&f! receiving, filming, head pushing, creampie

Opening your nightstand drawer and pushing around the junk that you throw in there from time to time, finally finding what you were looking for.

It was a little damaged, the corners bent and a piece of the left corner ripped. You stared at the picture, one hand playing with the hem of your panties. the same ones he was using in the picture, of course, now they were clean. All the DNA that covered them was now stripped away and gone.

You haven't heard from him in weeks, the sexual encounters you’ve had after that day seemed dry and didn’t really hold your interest. Your job was even more boring, being a secretary at the Roseville gazette was not the most entertaining job but you do get a few laughs from your coworkers, especially jed, he’d come to your desk a lot to joke around and ask if you had heard things around the office, he loved hearing your gossip since people often thought you and him were the type to tell their secrets too since you both had an inviting aroma, you liked hearing the drama he had to tell which left you both giggling.

Two of your work friends invited you to drinks at walleyes, this was something unusual since the ghostface murders started so you agreed.

three shots in and holding who you think is tessa’s bag, you were ready to go home and no matter how many people were hitting on you, you knew it wouldn’t be what you wanted.

it was late and you were really not wanting to have a hangover on a work day, you couldn’t call off if you wanted that vacation time in june.

you made sure tessa’s bag got to her before leaving, your house wasn’t too far and you were barely feeling the shots. you debated on grabbing food while you were out but decided not to since most places were closed and the only food that was super close to you was gas station food.

you pulled into your driveway, hurrying to get your house keys out of your bag before you turned off your car. you didn't know what it was but as soon as you shut your car door you had this eerie feeling, your house was the last on the street and then beside you were trees for miles so this feeling washed over you sometimes during late nights but this felt different.

making your way to your door while constantly looking behind you just in case was something you had been good at, stopping in front of your door, trying to find the right key.

your bag slid down from your shoulder onto your forearm, it knocked into your door making it creak open.

you knew damn well you locked your door.

your mind fought between it being him or it being someone else.

taking a deep breath, you walked in, not closing the door all the way. you walked towards your living room.

there sat ghostface, his gloved fingers tapping on the arm of the chair he sat in. you sat your bag on your couch, tossing your keys onto it.

“didn’t think you were gonna come back,” you said, you played with your hands nervously.

“i keep my promises, i gave you back your panties as much as i wanted to keep them didn't i?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

you let out a soft laugh and shook your head, “what took you so long?” you asked.

“can’t spend all my time with you bunny, i'm a busy man and i came as soon as i was free” he said and shrugged. “but let's see if you keep your word since you were so cocky on the phone” he added as he spun the camcorder that sat on the table beside him.

you smiled as you walked closer to him, sinking to your knees once in front of him. you reached over to the camcorder, bringing it to you and turned it on then hitting record. you handed it to him.

“i keep my promises too,” you said, touching his cock through his clothes. you looked at the camera as he made sure to focus on your face, sometimes moving it to your hands but it always ended back onto your face.

danny was grinning ear to ear under his mask, he knew you’d be perfect since the day you started working where he did, he just knew there was something behind your whole nice persona plus he didn't spend all that time watching you for him to be disappointed.

undoing his pants and pulling out his cock was thrilling, it was something you’d thought about since the phone call, it was all you could think about at work and it was certainly the only thing you could think about at night.

danny’s chest moved up and down as his breathing got quicker and the mask sure didn't help.

your hand went up and down his length, looking from his tip to the camera.

“put your mouth to work” ghostface demanded, you looked at the black fabric that covered his eye before licking up his cock and then licking around his tip.

danny let out a pleased hum, he took the camera into his left hand and his right came to the back of your head, he didn’t put any pressure.

you took him into your mouth, moving your head up and down, over and over. you’d look up at him or the camera from time to time and each time it made you want him inside of you more and more.

“oh you’re good at this, bet you have so much experience” he groaned, his hand holding the camera starting to get a bit shaky. you answered him with a disagreeing hum around his cock.

“you don’t gotta lie doll i know you’re a fuckin’ whore” danny scoffed, he knew everything, absolutely everything about you. danny pushed your head down this time, making you gag around him and making him laugh silently.

you looked at him as you deepthroated him, your hands gripped at his thighs. his hand didn’t apply any more pressure and let you move your head freely. you let off him, catching your breath before sucking him off again. you took him back into your mouth, licking a vein that was near his tip over and over making his hip shudder and buck up. your tongue swiped over his slit a few times then you swirled your tongue around his tip.

danny was close, his hips bucking up and his balls tightening, his hand now guiding your head as you looked up at the camera.

“good girl, you’re such a good girl” danny moaned out, jerking off with your panties was good but not as good as this for sure. you hummed around him, rolling your eyes back as you continued pleasing him. ghostface was a lot thicker than you imagined and your jaw would surely be sore by the time you woke up in the morning.

you could hear him cursing under his breath, the pulsing in your cunt was almost unbearable.

“m’gonna cum bunny, fuck- you better swallow it” he said through gritted teeth. his abdomen tightened as his cock twitched in your mouth, you moaned around him which made his hips buck up harder.

danny’s hand pushed your head down to his base as he came into your mouth. he tried to keep the camera steady as he groaned.

you looked up at him, tears coming to your eyes as you tried to not choke on him, he could feel you rubbing his thigh in a weird comforting way. his hand let off your head and you made your way up to his tip, practically sucking him clean.

danny focused the camera on your face, “open your mouth” he ordered as you got your mouth off his cock.

you tilted your head back a little and opened your mouth, his gloved hand grabbed your jaw gently as you waited for him to tell you to swallow.

“fuckin’ swallow it” he demanded, pushing your mouth closed and then moving to your neck, he wanted to feel you swallow.

you obeyed, taking it all down in a gulp.

“good little bunny,” he praised and pat your cheek, “get on the couch” he added in a serious tone. you wanted to kiss him but you knew he wouldn’t take off the mask. danny put himself back into his boxers for the moment.

you got off your knees and made your way to your couch with ghostface not far behind, you moved your purse and keys to the floor before getting on your knees on the couch, waiting for his instructions.

danny set the camcorder onto your coffee table before walking over to you, tilting his head to the side as he rubbed your cheek with his thumb then moving to unbutton your shirt, the same shirt he had seen you wearing at work that was just a little too tight for your figure.

“you’re so pretty, doll” he complimented. it made you smile as you stared up at him.

you half expected him to just rip your shirt off instead of treating it carefully, before you knew it he was taking your shirt off you and tossing it to the floor. danny pushed you to get on your elbows and knees on the couch, your skirt was riding up and your shoes had fallen off and onto the floor.

danny got behind you, his gloved hand running up your leg to your waist, your skirt was tight, it was one of the ones you wore to work but it was just a little too long for danny’s liking; he reached for his knife that was by his thigh.

he grabbed the fabric with one hand and cut it off of you. you gasped and turned your head to him. before you could talk he started.

“calm down doll, s’just not one of my favorites,” he said, taking the now destroyed skirt and tossing it to the ground. you playfully rolled your eyes, you weren’t gonna fight him about it. danny put the knife back before touching your legs again.

you had on mint-colored panties with white lace, his fingers sliding under the fabric and pulling them down your legs.

“i’ll be keeping these bunny” danny said as he stuffed them into his pocket, your cunt was on full display for him.

“please touch me” you whined, you wanted him so bad, you didn’t if he fingered you or ate you out you just wanted him inside of you.

danny laughed, he knew you were getting needy, “i'll give you what you want bunny” he said as he moved his mask up and to the side to where it just perfectly hid his face. he held you still as his tongue made contact with your cunt, he kissed your clit before sucking softly making you moan into the cushion.

you arched your back as he lapped at you over and over, his hands massaging your skin as he kept you still.

“ghostface-“ you started, stray hair was in your face as you wished he would go faster.

“you can call me danny” he interrupted you, his mouth leaving your cunt for a second then going back, circling his tongue over your clit.

“danny please fuck me” you begged, you dug your nails into the cushion.

danny left your cunt, moving his mask back to his face.

“such a needy fuckin’ whore, so impatient” he muttered which made you whine and move your hips back a bit, he slapped down on your ass, making you jump. danny palmed himself before taking his cock out of his boxers again, he rubbed himself on your slit.

danny hummed as his tip teased your entrance, you tried to press back onto him but his free hand stopped you.

“be a good girl and wait” danny said, correcting your behavior. He tapped his cock on your clit before going up and down your slit again, just teasing you.

“you’re just being mean” you huffed as you took his teasing, this has been the only thing on your mind and now he just wants to torture you. danny laughed, leaving his tip at your entrance.

“oh- i’m mean, bunny?” he asked humorously and just when you were about to respond he thrust into you making you gasp, he filled you up so nicely. danny’s hands grabbed your waist and pulled you into each thrust.

“c'mon doll, am i mean now? since you couldn’t fucking wait” he scoffed, the fabric from his pants scratched the back of your thighs.

“no” you stuttered out, his balls slapping against your clit. danny grabbed you by your hair and lifted your head to look back at him.

“what was that?” he asked, you wanted this so bad and now you just felt like jelly and already cock drunk for him which would definitely make you embarrassed in the morning.

“you’re not mean!” you whined out, danny pushed your head down and kept his hand there, his thrusts got faster and rougher.

“i’ll show you fucking mean” he gritted, his hand that was on your waist moved to your ass, smacking down on your skin as you looked at the camera.

you moaned his name a few times as he spanked you over and over, your orgasm was coming and it was coming hard, you were so excited, you hadn’t had sex like this in since you didn’t even know when but there was something about this that made it so exciting.

your body rocked as he used you, his grunts and moans was something you tried to focus on. his gloved hand squeezed your ass before moving his hand back to your waist. metal from his pants prodded at your skin.

danny wanted to fucking ruin you, make to where you’d never expirence something like this with anyone else.

he rutted into you roughly you had no idea how you could keep up, your eyes rolled back as he just kept going, you didn’t think it could feel any better but it just amazed you.

“danny- danny- please i’m gonna cum” you told him, you could barely get out your words, you were trying to catch your breath.

“you wanna cum? after being mean to me?” danny snarled, shaking his head.

“please! i’m so sorry! please i didn’t mean it i promise” you cried you, you reached to his hand on your head, holding his hand, your fingers pushed up his sleeves to feel his skin.

“you’re such a sweetheart when you beg, my sweet little thing” he cooed at you, you were so close, his cock felt so good inside you. “rub your clit angel” he added.

your free hand moved to your clit, rubbing with two fingers in circle motions. you moaned and dug your nails into his skin.

“cum when you’re ready doll” he said, giving into your begging and pleading which wasn’t normal, he would’ve made you hold it but maybe it was just the goodness of his heart and influenced his decision.

“thank you” you whimpered as your fingers went faster, danny’s abdomen was tightening as you clenched around him.

you came with a loud whimper, squirting all over his cock and your fingers, soaking the cushion underneath you as well. you mumbled incoherent things as danny moaned out loud.

“fuck- bunny” he breathed out, danny tossed his head back a bit.

“cum in me, please danny” you begged, taking your fingers off your clit and wiping your hand on the cushion.

“if that's what you want bunny” he said smugly. danny’s cock twitched inside of you, he bit his cheek as his balls tightened, a few final thrusts and he was spilling inside of you.

it felt like he would never stop cumming, he left go of your hair not even realizing he was tugging so harshly, your hand held his hand there and you didn’t let go.

danny took deep breaths as he recovered. you let your eyes flutter shut as you relaxed, danny moved his hand from your head and leaned over you, he moved his mask to the side and kissed your head, you let out a pleased hum as he fixed his mask.

danny pulled out of you, watching his cum drip from out of your cunt. there was a deep desire to eat you out until you were so overstimulated you would cry but it was time to go. danny got up and grabbed the camcorder, bringing it to your cum covered cunt.

“you’re so pretty bunny” he complimented, you smiled as he started to stroke your thigh. “you did so good for me” he added as he ended the recording, he got up to clean himself up in your bathroom.

the last thing you heard was “i’ll give you a call bunny” then silence.

you woke up two hours later, your eyes focused on your coffee table, a new set of clothes, a glass of water, two wet rags and your birth control all sat on it.

-

the next day was work, the back of your thighs stung a bit when you sat in your chair. nothing interesting happened except for jed coming around shit talking your coworkers and asking if you had an alright night.

people came in and out of the place, interns and people trying to get in touch with your boss or coworkers and it finally had gone dead when night came, you only had two hours till you could leave so you relaxed.

when you came back from the bathroom you found something on your desk, a yellow mailer with your name on it sat beside your keyboard, you looked around to see absolutely no one in the lobby, you were alone.

you were quick to open it, grabbing what was inside, a flash drive. you were used to people sending pictures in on flash drives for others but you had never gotten one with your name on it.

you looked around again before putting into your computer and clicking the pop up, it only had a video on it, you looked around again.

he was here. he dropped this off and had to have had the mask off. you were excited but you knew you shouldn’t watch it now, not on the clock at least.

you gave in and clicked it, making sure the audio was off, it started playing and you watched as you handed him the camera.

you looked at the yellow mailer and shook it, a polaroid fell out. your eyes went back to the video.

a noise came from beside you, you panicked and exited off the video and turned to the side.

“y/n, what are you doing?” jed whispered as his eyes were wide and you just knew he saw.

“nothing” you whispered yelled at him, squeezing your eyes shut.

“that didn’t look like nothing, i didn’t know you were so naughty” he poked fun at you.

“oh my god, stop it, it’s not like that” you cringed, jed rolled his eyes. he leaned against your desk, his sleeves rolled up his forearm.

the nail marks on his wrist caught your eye.

[wandixx]

Ok it closes out on me when I tried typing it the first time-

Anyway, I'm a sucker for shock value ones, just so funny to me, so how about M'gann being nervous about introducing bf danny and it happens at an inconvenient time! Could go ghost royalty, ancient of space or anything, hell ghost as dragons would be pretty funny, up to you though!

I'm not sure if I did a good job at this, but I didn't want you to wait too long and real life is keepimg me busier than expected, so for now, it's here. I may continue it one day (I also have different version of fill for this prompt, because neither idea felt right, so if you'd like to see I too, just let me know whatever way is most convenient to you)

This wasn't supposed to happen like that. M'gann didn't have a super detailed plan on how it was supposed to happen, but even her vague (thought and rethought every night) ideas were anything but this. It was supposed to be a calm, low-stakes situation. Maybe even make it look like an accidental meeting, Team in civies hanging out around Happy Harbour, bumping into Danny and then she'd just introduced him, perhaps adding ‘btw, he is my boyfriend’ almost like an afterthought. This seemed like the best possible scenario.

This was also, as expected with the way hero life is, the exact opposite of what actually happened.

Of course, it didn’t start with anything heralding the absolute disaster this day had to become. Kinda accidentally the Team stumbled upon something between a cave and a basement, and in it a group of people, who decided to perform a summoning of a genie so they could… wish for stuff. They didn’t even look like cultists or villains of any sort, just a group of random adults from seemingly very different backgrounds. M’gann had a really hard time understanding what actually brought them together other than their wishes.

Which was actually pretty useful when it came to fighting them, because nobody really cared about their fellow summoner, just trying to save their own butt. She kinda wished more of their opponents were so incompetent.

Though, she spoke too soon because in the excitement of the fight, somehow all of them didn’t realize that one or two of the summoners… actually managed to finish a summoning. It was honestly a little bit embarrassing.

But, it was too late to dwell on all that, as right above the summoning circle appeared a circle in a worryingly familiar shade of green.

Of course, this one time she didn’t have any equipment from Danny, had to be when the Team encountered a ghost.

Ghost in question was a beautiful woman, with long hair covering one of her eyes, in a blue outfit that was related to one of Earth cultures, but M’gann didn’t know which, and a bunch of bracelets on her wrists. Martian could make a hazard guess on who it was, based on the stories Danny told her.

“We don’t have time for explanations, I think I know who this is, if I’m right for the love of everything that’s dear to you, don’t say the word ‘wish’ out loud” she demanded over the Mindlink.

Before she finished, Artemis took silver tape from somewhere and slapped a piece of it over Wally’s mouth. M’gann understood the sentiment but still… it was a little bit too nuclear option.

Desiree (if it was her) didn’t attack anyone, looking a bit confused, giving Team a moment of reprieve to plan and for Kid Flash to make sure none of the summoners could make whatever wish they wanted either. Also with the use of silver tape. Djinn’s were always tricky.

M'gann used this moment of everyone getting their bearings to curse herself for not bringing any ghost weapons this time. Any other mission, Team or not, she had something on her but today? Today she had nothing.

Excluding the summoning engraved into clips holding her cape but it was kinda last resort. It wouldn't annihilate everything in one mile radius or something but she didn't want to drag Danny there if he was during a test, other ghost fight or something. She knew better than anyone that he didn’t need more distractions.

Conner crashed into a wall right next to her. Artemis seemed to lose her cool when none of her arrows seemed to reach the ghost while Robin was trying to make some counter plans with Kaldur. They couldn't do a thing to Desiree and it was a matter of seconds before she stopped entertaining them and went to the city. It… would end badly, most likely. Danny would prefer to get involved before it got that far. Yeah…

She really wished she didn’t have to call.

“I have an idea, cover for me for a minute or two”

“Bold of you to assume we can stop her from anything”

“I believe in you Wally. Just distract her”

“My water attacks seem to be effective weapon against her”

“That’s aster! What do you plan to do, M'gann?”

“Summon another ghost”

She expertly ignored yelling that followed, taking the golden clip off of her cape. She held fabric in place with absentminded use of telekinesis, while she focused on an engraved pattern. Danny's summoning circle wasn't actually too complicated or intricate but she needed to do it just right. And frankly, she just liked looking at it. Physical proof that her boyfriend would be there if she needed it. Drawn representation of who he is, the deepest and truest parts of his soul written in the language that only Universe itself could fully understand.

And it was beautiful. Absolutely incredible. Much better than Desiree's circle, thank you very much.

M’gann dropped to her knees and grabbed leftover chalk from previous summoning and crouched to quickly draw Danny's seal. She had a lot of practice from all the times she doodled it on a whim just to get something of him with her when she missed him the most. She rarely actually summoned him, again, it was difficult to align their schedules, but she was very familiar with the first step.

And it was really easy from there.

She placed the clip in the middle of the circle, shapeshifted one of her nails to get a bit of blood on the chalk and leaned back.

After a careful, deep breath, she started an incantation, putting as much power in her voice as she could.

“I call upon you guard of Amity Park, I call upon you dearest child of the Ice, I call upon you one favored by the Time, I call upon you vanquisher of the Fear, I call upon you subduer of the King, I call upon you defender and the guide, I call upon Phantom, both worlds beloved child”

Circle erupted in green light, putting a momentary pause to the fight. M’gann was still blinking spots away when a figure flung itself out of the summoning circle, right at the Desiree.

“What the fuck?!”

Only after the first punch was thrown did Danny turn back to her, with his usual, somehow both gallant and bashful smile, that without fault made her knees get a little weaker. She smiled back.

“Hello Starlight” he greeted, sounding almost casual.

“Starlight?”

“Hi Angel. Nice of you to drop by” she answered in the same manner. Wally tried to yell from behind the duck tape.

“Angel?! M'gann, who is he? Who is she?!”

“I will always come if you call” he said without any doubt, suddenly as serious as if he was sharing information that could break or make the world.

It certainly worked like that to her world. She actually melted a little on the inside.

“I know”

“Actually, that's kinda cute. I still have no idea who this is, but you go girl”

“I feel like it's not the right time Artemis”

“Not to interrupt… whatever this is, but the other ghost is escaping” Robin cut in “Also, if you want to make out afterwards, please find the room, Batman and Catwoman are traumatizing enough“

Few people snorted, while Danny blushed green. He darted back at Desiree, clearly to escape the embarrassment. M’gann stood up, totally at ease now, that he was there to take care of it.

“Will you need a hand? I don't have any tech but we have a trick or two up our sleeves!” she asked, projecting her voice so it carried through the cavernous basement without yelling.

“I'm good for now but thanks for asking!”

“M’gann, can you give us anything substantial? Who is this? How do you know him?”

“One question at the time and let's wait until he finishes, okay?“

She cut off Mindlink before anyone agreed or protested.

“Miss Martian!”

“Soup time!”

With a blast of light, Desiree got sucked in and Danny landed in front of them with a proud grin.

“My job here is done”

“It truly is. You're getting faster too”

“And thanks to who is that?”

“You”

Danny sent her both an incredulous and playful glare.

“Of course. I miraculously found a ways to not be a mess and don't crash through every wall on my way and–”

“Well, no but–”

“Let me remind you, you're not alone… also who are you dude? And where did the other lady go?” Wally asked, right after ripping the duct tape off his mouth.

“Oh, well, I'm Phantom, I usually work in Amity Park?” he said a bit unsure, as if calling him a protector was under any question. That just wouldn't do.

“He's a hero from Amity Park”

“Thanks love. It's nice to finally meet you all. M talked a lot about you!”

“Can't say same about you, sorry”

“That's fine. I know M was agonizing over how to introduce me in the best way possible. I'm really happy it's finally over,” he paused for a moment, with his brows furrowed “Did I do good? This first impression thing?”

“You're… far less imposing that I personally expected after hearing Miss Martian summoning you, but–”

“M’gann how could you hide this from us?” Conner blurted out quietly, and oh, he sounded so utterly crushed. Everyone fell silent, the playful atmosphere gone as if it had evaporated.

“I never intentionally hid it. It wasn't significant enough to mention at the start and when it became important I felt like I couldn't just drop it at you during lunch or something. I always planned to tell you, there was just never the right time nor right words. I never wanted to hide it.”

“Even just me?”

“Especially you”

“You still should've…”

“Yeah, I should. I'm sorry”

“How long ago have you met?”

“Half a year ago,” Danny said before she managed to answer “It's all kinda my fault actually. I was really set on not getting mixed up with more hero business than I had to back then. I didn't want you or Justice League finding out about me. And when I agreed, it was already really late. I'm sure she'd told you all from the get go if I let her, I'm sorry”

“Why wouldn't you want us to know about you?”

“It's… Probably not the conversation we should have right here, over gagged wannabe cultists.”

“Valid. Let's call the cops and get going. You two have much to explain”

“And you're sitting eight feet apart until you do!”

Danny leaned in to kiss her, quick and playful, before he jumped back at the demanded distance.

“Well, this still went better than at your side”

“Absolutely”

*******

Also, here is some lil arts for a longish wait, sorry again, I hope this story is yours to your expectations

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: language, descriptions of violence, death, graphic description of dead bodies, angst, smut (m masturbation), sexual tension x a million

A/N: please tell me if I should use any additional tags/warnings on this story. Also this is the longest chapter yet, I knew when I wanted it to end but I kept adding more detail and more scenes as I wrote and it just got away from me oops

Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

December 2003

Chicago, IL

The cold, bitter wind blew off the lake as you trudged through the snow. You had three layers underneath your thick jacket, but you were still freezing. You had forgotten just how cold it felt this close to the lake, but you kept eagerly pushing forward.

"I think I know where we are," you said excitedly to Joel, who had been unusually silent the past few miles. "There's this golf course a couple miles from my house, I think this is it."

"Can hardly see a thing out here," was all Joel said in response. You frowned, annoyed that he was bringing you down when you were finally starting to feel hopeful.

"What's wrong?" you asked, putting an arm out to stop him. He sighed and you watched as a puff of air leave his mouth then dance away on the wind before he turned to look at you.

"I'm just -" he stopped, rethinking his words. "I'm worried. If they ain't there, we need to go to the QZ, and I don't know if it'll be as easy to get out once we're in, like it was before." He paused before adding, "And I'm worried about you... if we don't find what you're expectin'."

"Don't be worried, I know it's a long shot. But I have to try. What else do I have?" You looked up at him through your eyelashes, dusted with snowflakes. You looked so beautiful that it took his breath away. He had to jam his fist into his pocket to keep himself from reaching out and cupping your face.

"You got me," he said, looking at you softly with his heart hammering in his chest. You inhaled sharply. He didn't mean it like it sounded. "We can go out west, see if we can find Tommy. It'll be warmer out there, too," he added nervously.

You could tell he was really trying, he looked anxious as he shifted his gaze to your surroundings, his hands fidgeting deeply in the pockets of his coat. You weren't even sure where you would even begin to look for Tommy, if that plan was even possible, but if he was willing to take you all this way to find your family, the least you could do is agree to try to find his.

"Yeah, okay," you said quietly. His fidgeting stopped, and he made eye contact with you again. "If I can't find my parents, that's a good plan. We can do that." You smiled reassuringly at him now, trying to ease his mind. He gave you a small smile in return and a quick nod, then looked back down at the snow, brushing his nose with the back of his gloved hand.

"Can we get moving, now? I'd like to get out of this cold soon," you said, stomping your feet lightly, trying to get more blood to circulate in your legs.

"Yeah, sure, let's get goin'," he said, and you headed across the golf course towards a wooded area in the distance. If this was the golf course you thought it was, then your neighborhood was just on the other side of those woods.

You made it to the outskirts of your neighborhood just before dusk. The familiar tree lined streets just a few blocks away from your house made your heart flutter in anticipation. You knew you shouldn’t get excited; you knew it was unlikely they would be there, or even leave any type of note telling you where they went, but you couldn’t help it. This was where you grew up, this was your home. Your memories were etched in these streets: learning how to ride a bike, falling out of the tree and breaking your arm in your best friend’s backyard, trolling the streets at night as teenagers thinking you were tough and cool. A part of you was excited to show your home to Joel, but you quickly stopped that line of thought. He was not your boyfriend you were bringing home to meet your parents. He was your boss who agreed to help keep each other safe these past few months.

You both approached your street as darkness wrapped around you. Joel insisted you survey the street for a while to see if there was any movement before giving away your position. You reluctantly agreed, ducking behind a house on the corner, until you saw light moving inside a house. Your house.

“Oh my god,” you said breathily, “that’s my house. Joel!” you latched onto his forearm, dragging his attention onto you, “My parents!” you gasped.

You lurched forward, but Joel’s hand yanked you back. You angrily spun around to face him.

“I know you’re excited,” he began, clenching both his hands on your shoulders, “but we don’t know if that’s them, it’s been a long time. I think we should wait- “

You cut him off, saying, “It’s got to be them, what are the chances? C’mon, Joel, please!” you begged, clutching his wrist. His gaze bore into yours as you held onto him, and again you whispered, “please,”.

He groaned, unable to deny you when you looked so sweet and adamant. “Alright, just give me a few minutes, let me think of a plan,” he replied, at which your face broke out in a huge smile, still grasping his hand in yours as you bounced on your heels.

“Sure, whatever, I just want to see them,” you replied, looking back at the lights moving around your living room. You couldn’t believe it; your parents were alive! Joel had tried to curb your expectations, but it wasn’t even necessary, they were there. They were right there!

You approached your house in the darkness, unable to keep the smile from your face as Joel led you quietly across the street. He rapped his knuckles three times on the door and pulled out his revolver as he stepped to the side, ready for hostility.  When the door cracked open, it was not what either of you expected.

A man you didn't recognize peered out from around the corner. All you could see was his eye, but he looked terrified as he feverishly looked back and forth between you and Joel.

"Who are you?" he asked, the door still cracked.

"Who am I? Who are you?" you replied before thinking, "this is my house, what are you doing?"

The man faltered a moment and Joel stiffened on the other side of the door. "Are you armed?" the man asked nervously, unable to see Joel's revolver at his side.

"Goddamn right we are," Joel spoke up, his grip on the gun tightening, "you better start explain' yourself."

The man went to slam the door shut but Joel was anticipating it, shoving his boot in the doorway to stop him.

"Alright, alright, I don't mean any harm," the stranger said, opening the door up more and walking backwards with his hands in the air, "come in, I'm not armed, but please don't hurt us."

Us. You entered your living room. It looked the same, except some pieces of furniture were pushed closer together. You glanced up at the wall above the fireplace by habit, seeing your high school graduation photo still prominently displayed, then your eyes settled on a woman cowering in the corner of the room. She was taller than you and blonde, with wide blue eyes and bangs that brushed her eyebrows, and she was shaking with fear. You held your hand out to Joel and pushed his revolver gently towards the floor. He resisted until his gaze met the girl in the corner, and his arms went limp.

The man who answered the door stepped forward, and you noticed now he seemed much younger, maybe around you age. He kept his arms up in front of him as he stood in front of the woman, his eyes pleading.

"Please, we don't mean any harm, we are just looking for a safe place to stay." He repeated, his brown eyes anxiously shifting back and forth between you and Joel.

Joel met your eyeline, and you sighed. Obviously, your parents had moved on, which left you distraught, but these people were harmless.

"It's fine," Joel said, tucking the gun in the back of his jeans. "This is her house," he gestured towards you, "we're lookin' for her parents, you know anythin' about that?"

The man lowered his hands now that Joel put his gun away, and drifted backwards to stand next to the woman, who still looked shaken.

"No, I'm sorry, I don't know who used to live here. We just needed someplace safe to stay for the winter, and this neighborhood was abandoned. We just picked your house randomly, I'm so sorry." the man apologized again, truly looking upset he couldn't help you more. "I'm Tim, this is Lucy," Tim rubbed Lucy's back affectionately, trying to ease her nerves.

You both introduced yourselves and they relaxed a bit, sitting down on the sofa and chairs surrounding the crackling fireplace.

"You think havin' a fire is a good idea? What if someone sees the smoke?" Joel asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Hasn't been a problem yet," Tim replied, "until you two."

You shook your head. "We didn't notice the smoke, but we saw your flashlights."

Tim smacked his palm against his forehead. "The one day I forget to pull the curtains closed, dang it!"

Joel shook his head and learned toward to Tim, "You need to be more careful. You're lucky it was just us," he said, swinging his thumb between the two of you. "You need to be better prepared, you gotta protect her," now motioning towards the Lucy.

Tim's face paled and he gulped nervously, reaching out and clutching Lucy's hand. "Can you give us some pointers? We just left the QZ two weeks ago, we are doing our best out here but," Tim gave Lucy a tight smile, "we could use all the help we could get."

Joel's eyes shifted between Lucy and Tim, then back to you. He didn't want to waste his time helping some kids who clearly were in over their heads, but the look on your face when you turned to meet his gaze changed his mind. He was finding it impossible to say no to you.

"Yeah, alright. For starters, close the damn curtains and put out the fire," he told Tim gruffly.

"How will we stay warm?" Lucy spoke up for the first time, nervously casting her gaze between you and Joel.

"Blankets. Keep your bedroom door closed. Body heat. Set up tents to sleep in inside when the temperatures really drop," you replied curtly. "Only when absolutely necessary should you risk a fire. It's still November, there's a long winter ahead of you."

Joel smiled at you proudly as you spoke, Lucy catching his look. You had been picking up tidbits from him over the past few months, and he was happy to see you've been paying attention.

Tim got up to close the curtains as Joel began to put the fire out. Lucy turned to you, shooting you a nervous smile.

"Tim and I are already in the master bedroom, do you and your boyfriend mind taking the other one?"

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend," you replied quickly. Too quickly. Joel's shoulders tensed over the fireplace. "But no, that's fine, we're used to sharing a bed, and that's my old room anyway."

Lucy smiled at you politely before shifting her eyes between you and Joel curiously, her eyebrows scrunched together as if she was trying to figure something out, then relaxed her brow when Tim returned to her side.

"Alright then, we're going to get some sleep. Obviously, help yourselves to whatever's in the cupboards. It is your house, after all." Tim said, glancing at you with a quick smile.

You nodded and wished them good night as they headed towards your parents’ room. It was just as well: it would have been weird to sleep with Joel in their bed.

The door shut behind them and you got to work rummaging through the familiar cupboards, pulling out some canned food you could eat and without having to think, pulled open the drawer that housed the can opener, and then the silverware. Joel eyed you warily as he sat down at the kitchen table. He knew he wasn't your boyfriend, but the way you quickly corrected Lucy still bothered him.

You ate in silence, leaving one flashlight on between you. Joel looked around your kitchen, trying to imagine you growing up here. His eyes landed on the fridge that had some pictures stuck to it with magnets. Once you were finished eating, he picked up the flashlight and went to take a closer look.

"Oh, those were taken so long ago, I hardly even look the same," you said, noticing where his attention was drawn.

Joel tsk'ed, zeroing in on a picture of you when you were little and drawing with chalk on the sidewalk, then another where you were on a field trip with your 8th grade class, and a third picture where you were in a sparkly red dress for a homecoming dance with some boy's arm around your waist.

"As I said, those were taken a long time ago," you whispered, suddenly appearing beside him. He turned to look at you, really look at you: he could still see the similarities from the pictures in the way you smiled, the shape of your eyes, and the curve of your mouth.

You yawned and reached out to grab your backpack. "Follow me," you said quietly, not wanting to disturb Tim and Lucy.

You led Joel down the hall towards your bedroom and pushed the door open. You were pleasantly surprised that your parents left it exactly the same. You still had posters hung on your wall of the Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, and Destiny's Child. The pictures that decorated your dresser mirror were the same ones you shoved in the frame from high school: pictures of you and your friends at dances, at a restaurant, the mall, and a couple with the same boy who was on the fridge.

"Who's the guy?" Joel couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, that's Matt. He was my first boyfriend. We broke up right before college," you said coolly as you pulled out some more comfortable clothes from your backpack and left to go change in the bathroom down the hall.

Joel took the opportunity to look casually through the items on your dresser, sniffing a few different half used perfume bottles and flipping through some CDs. It was strange to be here in your bedroom. He had never considered actually being here before, too focused on the journey and not really thinking about the destination. You returned to the bedroom with a couple of extra blankets in your arms.

"My parents kept these in the hall closet, I already made sure Tim and Lucy had enough," you explained, spreading the blankets over your twin bed. You swallowed nervously, realizing this bed was smaller than the beds you've previously shared. Joel excused himself to go clean up and change as you slid into the sheets, your eyes closing in relief at the familiarity of the room. You didn't realize you had nearly fallen asleep until the mattress shifted, and your eyes snapped open. Joel's leg and arm brushed up against yours as you tried to keep your body from going rigid at the contact. It was unavoidable, your bed was too small, so you forced your body to relax and tried not to overthink it.

"Tomorrow, I'll ask ‘em about the QZ. If they can share any details about the place, then I think we can go there lookin' for your folks," he whispered in the dark.

"Mhmm, sounds good," you whispered back, still struggling to control your reaction from being so close to him. Your whole body felt hot. You told yourself it was just the extra blankets, but you knew better. Whenever he had been this close before, it was in your sleep, your mind was unable to process his touch until he was already pulling away from you. You squirmed a little, trying to get more comfortable.

"You need more room?" he asked, about to move before you stopped him.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," you said quickly, and turned to your side, finally getting a few more inches between you.

Joel stared at your back longingly. It seemed like every day something reminded him of what he would never have. The way you shirked away from his touch and how you made it perfectly clear you were nothing more than companions to Lucy felt like a punch in the gut. It's been months, and he still couldn't get his mind off you. You were becoming a burning need and it was driving him crazy. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing sleep to come so he could find some peace.

You woke up the next morning feeling well rested and warm. Really warm. With your eyes still shut, you burrowed into your bedsheets deeper to enjoy the warmth a little longer before having to wake up and face the frigid Midwest. You nuzzled your face forward and froze when your nose and lips met skin instead of a blanket. You slowly opened your eyes and found yourself face to face with Joel’s chest. You must have shifted around and ended up facing him at some point overnight. You stared at the exposed skin of his neck, taking in the little details of his tanned and pebbled skin, examining every birthmark you could lay your eyes on, then leisurely allowed your gaze to travel upwards where his prickly beard scattered over his neck, jaw, and upper lip. You inspected the patchy spots in his beard, seeing a few grey hairs sprouting up on the corners of his jaw. You noticed one bald spot resembled a heart, making you ache with the desire to press your lips there. His lips looked soft and plush, and you remembered how good they felt pushed against your own as they maneuvered your mouth open. His nose was sharp and angular, your favorite feature after his eyes. You were caught up in examining the wrinkles developing around his face when he woke up suddenly and his gaze immediately fixated on you.

You now realized you had your arms tangled around each other. Even your leg was wedged in between his under the blankets. You both lay on your sides, faces inches away, as you continued to stare at one another silently. Joel's eyes flicked down your face, examining you the same way you had just done to him. You felt your cheeks flush under the scrutiny, and you parted your lips to take in more air as your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Joel noticed the movement, his gaze fixed on your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. He exhaled softly through his nose, the puff of air blowing gently over your face. The air around you was thick with tension, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Joel lifted his hand from your hip to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your lips. You sighed and your eyes fluttered shut, unable to resist leaning into his touch this time. He took a moment to appreciate the gentle features of your face while your eyes were closed. He ran his thumb over your lips again, marveling at how soft they were. He swallowed nervously, moving his thumb from your lips to rest on your cheek, then leaned forward, closing his eyes when his nose tenderly nudged your own.

A sharp knock on the door made you gasp and jump away. You sat up in bed, clutching the blanket to your chest and Joel laid back with a frustrated groan, roughly running his hands up and down his face.

"Yes!" you yelped; your voice high pitched. Lucy's quiet voice on the other side of the door answered.

"Just checking on you, we have breakfast and coffee whenever you're ready!"

"Be right out!" you replied, voice still too high, no doubt the result of your nerves short circuiting. You stared down at your hands, unsure what to say.

"Did you sleep alright?" you finally asked, a question he usually was asking you. You fidgeted with the edge of the blanket and turned to look at him, anxiously waiting for his answer. He dragged his hands down from his face and let them rest on his stomach, then shot you a grin.

"Slept fuckin' great," he said, grinning wider as he watched your face heat up from embarrassment, and you bit your lip to hold back a smile of your own. It took everything he had to not grab you and pull you back into his arms as you stood up and walked to the door.

"I'll see you in a minute," you said shyly, and closed the door behind you. You headed to the bathroom first, giving yourself a moment to catch your breath. You hovered over the sink and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, and your face was flushed. You looked completely wrecked. What were you thinking? The tension was beginning to be too much, and maybe if you just had sex and got it out of your system, just one time, it would help clear your head. It doesn't have to mean anything. If that was all he was willing to offer you, would that be so bad? You could separate the physical from the emotional, right? You sighed, raking your fingers through your hair to tame it, and went to meet Tim and Lucy in the kitchen.

"Fuck," Joel whispered out loud to himself after you left. He palmed his erection over his sweatpants, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. It had been so long since he last jerked off. It was risky, you could come back in here at any moment, but he was convinced he would be hard half the day if he didn't take care of himself.

He pushed his sweatpants down just enough to pull out his cock, squeezing his eyes shut as he gripped himself firmly, setting a fast pace right away, knowing it wouldn't take him long. He let out short, quick gasps as he replayed the events from that morning: the way he caught you looking at him when he woke up, the sound you made when you sighed into his hand, your soft lips. "Shit," he groaned through clenched teeth, his hips thrusting into his fist as he imagined those lips wrapped around his cock, looking up at him through your eyelashes, your face all flushed as you brought him into your mouth as far as you could before stifling a gag.

He frantically reached out to the bedside table where he saw a few scarves piled near the lamp, snatching one and catching his release just in time before he made a mess all over your bed. He laid there for a few minutes catching his breath and then tucked himself back into his pants, shoving the scarf deep under your bed. He reluctantly stood up to change his clothes and ran his fingers through his hair before heading towards the kitchen.

"Oh my goodness, that sounds awful!" Joel heard you saying as he walked into the room. The three of you sat around the table with mugs of coffee, some oatmeal and pop-tarts. He sat down in a chair next to you and poured himself coffee before digging into the food.

"It got really bad there, we just couldn't risk sticking around. From what others were saying, it was just as bad in any other city," Tim had finished saying. You turned to Joel, faltering for a split second when your eyes met, before explaining.

"They just told me the QZ is a shitshow. People are having their food rationed, they're doing grunt work for hardly anything in return, and some people are being attacked for their supplies and the soldiers don't do anything to stop it," you said, listing each item off on your fingers as you spoke.

"Well, it could have been worse. We heard stories about soldiers going to neighborhoods and filling up trucks with people, telling them they'll go to the QZ, but the trucks never arrived," said Lucy, eyes wide. "Rumor has it, there wasn't enough room, so the soldiers shot everyone and left them on the side of the road."

"Why would they do that?" you gasped, a hand over your mouth.

"Dead people can't turn into infected," said Tim sadly, "that's why we stuck it out in the QZ as long as we could."

"How long were you there for?" Joel asked, pausing to take a sip of the piping hot coffee. He looked around, frowning, wondering for the first time how they heated up food, and then he saw the fireplace roaring. His eyes flicked back to Tim angrily.

"I know, I know, we're gonna put it out, we just wanted to warm up a bit and make something to eat," he waved off Joel's glare with a chuckle, "besides, you couldn't even see the smoke last night."

"We were distracted, anyone else walkin' up this street will see it. I'm warnin' you right now," Joel scowled and pointed his finger menacingly at Tim, "if you get her hurt 'cause you ain't listenin' to me, I'm gonna make the QZ look like a fuckin' playground." The whole table was silent while Joel stared daggers into Tim's paling face. You were confused why Joel was so protective over Lucy, a stranger by all accounts, until the coffee kicked in and it clicked: Joel wasn't referring to Lucy. He was talking about you. You could feel the tips of your ears getting red.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the tension at the table. Then a thought occurred to you. You got up quickly and snatched a picture off the mantle over the fireplace, bringing it back to the table and slid it between Lucy and Tim.

"Did you ever see those two people in the QZ?" you asked desperately, your gaze bouncing between them as they examined the photo carefully. They frowned as they stared into the faces of your smiling parents, then slowly shook their heads.

"I'm sorry, I don't think so. But it was a big place," said Lucy, "it's possible they could be there, and we just never saw or noticed them!"

You sighed, thanking them anyway, and pulled the picture back towards you. Joel could see the disappointment in your eyes, and he wanted to take your mind off it. His gaze traveled to a corner of the kitchen where he saw a bow leaning up against the wall with a quiver of arrows. He nodded towards it.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked, standing up to inspect it. You looked up and gasped.

"That's mine! Oh my god, I had no idea my parents kept it."

"Yeah, we found it in the basement. We didn't have any weapons, so we figured it was better than nothing. I've never even used a bow before," Tim said. Joel picked it up and pulled on the strings a few times, then picked up a couple arrows and flicked the tips to test their sharpness.

"You mind if we borrow it? I wanna try to get us something substantial to eat. Looks like it's gonna be a nice day," Joel said, peeking out the window up at the sun, watching the icicles on the gutters drip.

Tim agreed, since it wasn't really his to begin with. You insisted on leaving your pistol on the counter with them, in case of an emergency. Lucy shuddered when she saw the gun, and Tim picked it up to put it in the cupboard next to the sink.

"She hates guns," he explained quietly to you as you and Joel got ready to head out to hunt. "After seeing so much brutality in the QZ, she can't stand them. I'm just trying to keep her calm and happy, so I do as she says." He smiled at you both as you walked through the front door. Before you walked away, Joel turned back to Tim and just simply said "Fire," in a forceful tone, to which Tim nodded and gave a thumbs up, closing the door behind you.

The two of you walked silently down the street back towards the woods you came from, your heads swiveling every so often to make sure no one else was around. The sun was bright, and it was bouncing off the white snow, making you wince. You could tell as you walked that the few inches of snow that was on the ground was breaking up under the warmth. It would probably mostly be gone by nighttime, leaving muddy and dead grass to admire.

Once you reached the woods, Joel did his best to track any animal prints that looked fresh. He wasn't exactly an expert, but he knew enough. You followed closely behind him and kept your eyes on the trees for any movement. You had been walking around the woods for almost an hour before you stopped to rest. You found a fallen tree trunk elevated a bit from the ground that you could both comfortably sit on. You took a sip from your canteen as you glanced around. The forest was so still and quiet, it felt peaceful. You closed your eyes for a moment to savor it, unaware Joel was watching you closely.

Neither of you had mentioned anything about this morning. Joel felt a glimmer of hope inside him that maybe not all was lost, that maybe you could feel the same way he did. He wanted to talk about it, but he didn't want to scare you off and ruin the progress he had made. He cleared his throat, the noise grabbing your attention and making you open your eyes to look at him.

"So," he began, fiddling with the bow in his hands, his eyes cast downward, "I guess when we get back, we oughta ask 'em how they escaped from the QZ, then we can make a plan, get in and see if we can find your folks."

"Mhm, that sounds good," you said, watching him pick at the bow. "Maybe we should stay one more night, then leave early tomorrow."

He looked up at you now, unable to hide the shock from his face. He expected you would want to leave right away, eager to find your family. He scanned your face, seeing a small, playful smile, and he swallowed roughly. You wanted to stay another night for a reason.

His breath caught in his throat, and he could feel the warmth spreading across his cheeks. He hoped you would think the cold air was to blame as he shifted his weight on the log, dragging his gaze from you and onto the trees.

"Yeah," he finally squeezed out, "that's fine, we can leave tomorrow."

You bit your lip and turned your head away from him so he wouldn't see the smile that threatened to spill across your face.

You heard a snap of a twig nearby, drawing both of your attention as you fixated on the location of the noise. You froze when you saw a fat rabbit about 10 yards away, happily munching on some grass that had been exposed by the sun. Joel slowly reached down for the bow, but without looking you reached your hand out to place on top of his, stopping him. You motioned with your fingers to hand over the bow. You were more familiar with it, but it had been a long time. It was like riding a bike, right?

You loaded an arrow slowly into the bow, and drew back the string silently, closing one eye and aiming straight ahead. You let out a slow breath, then held it for half a second before letting go of the string. You cried out in happiness when the arrow made contact, killing the rabbit instantly. Joel swiveled his head towards you with a huge grin plastered on his face, beaming with pride.

You held the rabbit by the feet as you made your way back to the house, explaining you used to shoot archery in middle school but lost interest. The adrenaline from the kill combined with the excitement of what lied ahead for you and Joel was making you dizzy with happiness. You should have known something was going to ruin it.

You were a few doors down from your house, still smiling and teasing Joel about how much of a better hunter you were when his eyes fell on the front door of your house, and he froze. You stopped automatically, following his gaze to the front door of the house that was wide open. You both stood there for a minute, waiting to see if Tim was going to appear walking back inside with a bucket of snow to melt, but he never did. You turned to Joel, your eyes filled with worry.

"Did he leave the door open?" you asked shakily, hoping there was a reasonable explanation. Joel slowly shook his head, eyes still trained on the house. You looked around you now, trying to make out any footprints in the snow that may have been foreign, and Joel looked around at the houses on the street for movement. When it appeared to be quiet and still, you both begrudgingly approached your home, afraid of what you would find.

Joel stepped through the door first, his face immediately contorting in a grimace. He held his arm out to keep you back, but you refused, dropping the rabbit and pushing past him, gasping at the sight before you. Tim and Lucy were slaughtered, laying lifeless on your living room floor. Blood seeped into the beige carpet, making it spongy and red. Their eyes were open and staring up at the ceiling, their mouths agape as blood slowly trickled from their multiple stab wounds.

You bit back a sob, turning away to focus on literally anything except them. Joel desperately wanted to comfort you, but he first needed to know the bandits were gone, so he advanced into the small house, clearing each room before returning to find you standing in the kitchen, tears streaming down your face.

He briefly noticed the cupboards were left wide open, all the food taken, as well as the pistol you left for Tim, before he reached out to envelop you in his arms. You sank into his embrace, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. His eyes flicked back to the scene in the living room.

“That fuckin’ fire, I told him to put it out,” he said, staring at the small flames still licking at the embers.

You tried to argue with Joel about burying them, but he didn’t want to risk it. He wanted to get back into the forest behind the shelter of the pine trees. You had packed up your things quickly while Joel draped a couple sheets over their bodies. He made sure to grab the rabbit you killed before hurrying you out the front door and back towards the forest, not stopping until you were miles away and you begged him to take a break. He relented only when he found a secluded spot where he felt safe making a small fire to cook the rabbit. As you ate, he examined his map, trying to figure out where you were in relation to the QZ. He was fairly certain you were heading in the right direction, his eyes lifting up towards the sun and then turned the map around in his hands.  

“I think we’re here,” he told you, pointing to a green area on the map. “If we hook up with this road here,” he dragged his finger over to a thick line on the page, “then that will take us right into the city, and we can find the QZ.” You nodded, cleaning off your plates in what little snow remained on the ground. “You doin’ ok?” he asked you hesitantly. You stopped cleaning the plates to look up at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “just… that could’ve been us. It scared me.” You held his gaze for a moment, trying to express how much he meant to you with a look. Joel shook his head and leaned forward to grip your hand.

“It ain’t gonna be us, we don’t make stupid mistakes like that, you understand me?” You nodded, your eyes raking over his face, wondering if your luck will eventually run out. He gave your hand one more squeeze before standing up, urging you to pack up so you could make it to the QZ before nightfall.

The road Joel had pointed out to you on the map was deserted, surrounded only by thick forests and a few abandoned cars as you made your way slowly towards the city. You kept your gaze on the ground in front of you, absentmindedly kicking a stone here or there as you walked beside Joel, who was on high alert for raiders and gripping his rifle tightly in his hands. The road curved and steered you towards an open field, where you could now see buildings not too far off in the distance. Suddenly, Joel stretched his arm out across your chest, stopping you both. You looked up at him, confused, then followed his gaze. Not far ahead, you could see a pile of bodies on the side of the road, just like Lucy had warned. You held your breath, unable to fathom how evil those soldiers must be to execute all those innocent people. He looked down at you, and you nodded to him, telling him you were ok, to keep walking.

You continued down the road, both of you unable to keep your eyes off the bodies as you got closer. You couldn’t tell how long they had been there, the harsh winter had likely preserved their bodies, but with the snow melting today, you could make out most of their exposed faces and clothes. Your eyes scanned over a few of the bodies on top and that’s when you saw them: their bodies twisted and lifeless, laid next to one another on the side of the pile.

You dropped to your knees in the middle of the street, not even registering the pain from the impact. Then your vision went blurry before blackness creeped along the edges. You forced out a choked cry, unable to control the volume of your voice as sobs shook your body. Joel’s arms were around you instantly, cutting off your view from your parents, and kneeled down in the street with you, holding you to his chest to muffle your screams, rocking you back and forth until your breathing slowed and you ran out of tears.

Chapter Twelve

Taglist: @chiogarza, sparklejumpropequeen-777

[bigbawdy-benzz]

SUPER SHY 2.0

Pairing: Miles 42! X Shy Black Plus Size Fem Reader

Tags: @idkmistake @aaliyahwalkshere @mama-2001

Summary: Y/N has finally been noticed by Miles, you already had Miles heart now you have it even more now that you two are bonding getting to know each other.

A/N: I'm glad you guys loved the other one so much!! So here's pt.2 a day later I hope you guys love this one as well!! ENJOYYYYY as the author I was giggling and kicking my feet rooting for y’all. Btw if you didn’t read Pt.1 go read it before this one!! pt3

“I'm Y/N thank you so much”. You say taking your books trying to hide your smile.

“No problem Y/N also I like your shoes” Miles stated with a smile, you looked down at your shoes then looked at his smiling even wider looking back up at him.

“Thank you we’re matching” Y/N replied. Miles looked at his shoes smirking looking at Y/N

“Coincidence” He said swiftly walking away with his friends. You were hooping and hollering in your head trying not to scream.

“GIRLLLLLLLLL” Aaliyah shouted.

“Damn that was a very intense moment” Ocean states with her eyes widened looking at You.

“That's your man cannot convince me ANY less” Aaliyah exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

“Seriously did you see the way he LOOKED at you when y’all were talking AND the mamita that's all yours Y/N”. Ocean added to Aaliyah’s statement

“PLS don’t add on to my delusions, let's get to class” You stated before, y'all were late to class. You and your friends contained yourselves going to your math class. You couldn’t concentrate on anything but Miles was running through your mind it was hard to pull yourself together. Your friends noticed laughing quietly. You looked at them with a smile, you went on your phone to distract yourself seeing the following icon pop up on instagram, you clicked it seeing ‘therealmilesgmorales’ has followed you. Your eyes light up showing your friends your phone.

“Ohhhh mmmmm ggggggg” Aaliyah whispered.

“You better get on that luv cause that's officially your man he followed you” Ocean stated smirking at You.

“Real delulu screaming out my man” You sang causing you and your friends to giggle, in your peripheral vision your teacher eyed yall.You guys immediately started doing your work praying the bell rings soon. You went back to daydreaming with the biggest smile on your face, you heard the bell ring grabbing your things exiting the class room with your friends. The rest of the school day went by smoothly, you saw Miles in the hallway shooting him smiles and he smiled right back at you. The end of the day approached and you were about to leave with your friends.

“Hey Mamita” Miles said approaching you, you were smiling from ear to ear.

“Hi Miles” You said shyly.

“Is it okay if I walk you home?”. Miles asked, You looked at your friends and then back at Miles they nodded their heads at you.

“Yes of course” You replied.

“BYEEE Y/N WE LOVE YOU” Aaliyah shouted

“BE SAFE BOOKIE” Ocean Shouted as well as you were leaving with Miles.The walk was dead silent for 5 minutes because you were too shy to say anything, Miles picked up on this smiling at you.

“What you listening to?” Miles asks

“I'm listening to Best I ever had by Drake” You reply

“That's my shiiit play it I wanna listen”. He says you take your airpod out blasting the song. Miles starts singing, you look at him chuckling joining him cause fuck it.

“Baby, you my everything, you all I ever wanted We could do it real big, bigger than you ever done it You be up on everything, other hoes ain't ever on it I want this forever, I swear, I can spend whatever on it” The both of you sing laughing having a good time walking home. You were smiling the whole walk, Miles started dancing while walking making you laugh.

“AYEEEE” you shouted hyping him up, you appreciated how he made you feel comfortable by doing simple things. Quite frankly Miles did not give a damn about how he might have looked crazy; it made you feel comfortable enough to sing at the top of your lungs with him.

“Who else you listen to ma?” Miles asks with a smile, seeing you smile

“I listen to Brent Faiyez, Tyler the Creator, Steve lacy, Shreea Kaul, the list goes on”. You reply smiling from ear to ear.

“I like Brent Faiyez, Tyler the Creator,Steve Lacy, I have to listen to Shreea Kaul. We gotta get together, do nothing and listen to music you a Vibe” Miles stated, looking at you with the cutest smile on your face.

“Tienes una hermosa sonrisa” Miles said, making you want to fall to your knees, the way it rippled off his tongue, the way his voice sounded it tingled you just right. (You have a beautiful smile)

“Thank you Miles” You said shyly, Miles chuckled.

“You gettin shy on me Mamita?”. He says confidently being a tease, the way everything rolled off his tongue did something to you.

“Noo of course not”. You say looking away from Miles.

“Awe it’s okay, I have a question for you”. Miles expressed

“What's your question?” You ask while still looking away from him, he brought his hand to your chin turning your head to look at him, you were flustered trying not to blush.

“Can I take you out Tomorrow?” He asks, caressing your cheek with his thumb, you fall into his touch looking at him.

“Yes you can take me out” You say receiving a smile from Miles, he wanted to kiss you right then and there but it was too soon way too soon. He stopped touching your face realizing you’ve made home.

“Don’t worry about where we are going, I'm going to figure it out,it's going to be a surprise just show up looking pretty I'm going to show you how pretty girls are treated”. Miles stated looking you in the eyes.

Stay tuned for pt 3!!!

[umlewis]

How Lewis Hamilton Finally Got His Ferrari Red

On Valentine’s Day, Lewis Hamilton enters a sprawling studio space in northwest London and intently stares at the magnificent creature standing off in the distance.

“Sh-t,” says Hamilton to no one in particular. “I’m nervous.”

Soon enough, however, the seven-time Formula One world champion overcomes his anxiety and is standing face-to-face with a shiny black stallion named Aroma. He pets his nose, massages his neck, generally spreads his hands all over Aroma’s thick coat. He is doing his allergies, the source of his initial fear, no favors. But Hamilton, a literal knight, is enamored, peppering the horse master with questions. Where’s Aroma from? (Portugal.) Can he sleep lying down? (Yes.) How much does he weigh? (About 1,300 lb. Only a few hundred less than Hamilton’s race car.)

He’s throwing health caution to the wind in order to commemorate his much ballyhooed move from Mercedes, where he won six of his seven F1 driver titles, to the venerated Scuderia Ferrari HP race team: a photo of himself positioned in front of an actual black horse standing on his hind legs, mimicking the Italian automaker’s famous logo. Like Hamilton, Aroma—who is retired but still does the occasional photo shoot—has an impressive resume, including appearances in Robin Hood and Maleficent, ads for Hermès and Burberry, and a Dua Lipa video; he is joined by Theo, a stunt horse you might recognize from Bridgerton, among other things. “This is going to be such an iconic picture,” says Hamilton while trying on outfits for the shoot. “Super timeless.”

That depends, of course, on what comes after. At 40, Hamilton is aiming to not only win a record eighth F1 driver title—cementing his status as the greatest F1 driver to ever live and ending the longest-ever championship drought for the most storied race team on the planet—but also fulfill a lifelong dream. His move to Ferrari, announced before the 2024 season, was shocking worldwide front-page news: he had suited up for Mercedes for more than a decade, helped build a more diverse workforce there, and hoped to someday acquire an ownership stake in the team. It seemed he would ride into the sunset with the Silver Arrows.

Hamilton had other ideas. “You can’t stand still for too long,” Hamilton tells TIME, in his first in-depth interview about his decision to leave Mercedes for Ferrari. “I needed to throw myself into something uncomfortable again. Honestly, I thought all my firsts were done. Your first car, your first crash, your first date, first day of school. The excitement I got by the idea of, ‘This is my first time in the red suit, the first time in the Ferrari.’ Wow. Honestly, I’ve never been so excited.”

During the 2024 F1 season, Hamilton, out of respect for Mercedes—with whom he was still under contract and racing—didn’t talk much about the switch. The situation was awkward and unprecedented. (Picture LeBron James suiting up for the Los Angeles Lakers knowing he’d be playing the following year for a rival, like the Boston Celtics. Exactly. It would never happen.) All sides appear to have handled it as professionally as possible: Hamilton ended a 945-day losing streak by winning his hometown race, at Silverstone in Britain, in July before winning again in Belgium three weeks later. Meanwhile Carlos Sainz, the Ferrari driver whom Hamilton is replacing this year, helped Scuderia finish second in the constructor, or team, standings, just a few points behind 2024 champion McLaren.

Hamilton’s road to the title record won’t be easy. Some critics have questioned Ferrari’s strategy of signing an aging driver, whose best days could very well be in the rearview. They’ve wondered whether Ferrari’s more interested in marketing than winning—Hamilton is still F1’s most popular driver, by a mile, as well as an internationally known cultural figure with a hand in fashion, film, and business. (He’s co-chairing the Met Gala in May alongside Colman Domingo, Pharrell Williams, A$AP Rocky, and Anna Wintour; LeBron James is honorary chair.) Plus, a slew of younger drivers like reigning four-time champion Red Bull’s Max Verstappen, 27; McLaren’s Lando Norris, 25; and Hamilton’s new Ferrari teammate, Charles LeClerc, 27, could keep him off the top of the podium.

“The old man is a state of mind,” says Hamilton. “Of course your body ages. But I’m never going to be an old man.”

The 2025 F1 campaign, which kicks off in Australia on March 16, comes laced with intrigue. Hamilton sits at the epicenter. Ferrari is religion in Italy; when the team wins an F1 race, the bells of the Church of St. Blaise in Maranello, the small city near Bologna that houses Ferrari headquarters, ring in celebration. So Hamilton’s quest to end Ferrari’s agony, while breaking the individual title record set by Michael Schumacher—who won five straight titles with Ferrari from 2000 to 2004—will be appointment theater. Meanwhile, Hamilton is co-producing, along with Jerry Bruckheimer and others, an F1 movie, aptly called F1, that is almost literally a Brad Pitt vehicle. The film, which comes out in June, plus a competitive race for the championship, could deliver a jolt to the sport’s popularity, especially in the U.S., where F1 has boomed but flattened out a bit, given Verstappen’s predictable dominance.

A Hamilton championship in red, in the twilight of his racing life, would be nothing less than one of the greatest mic-drop moments in sports history. “I don’t know if I can find an adjective to describe that,” says American racing legend Mario Andretti, the 1978 F1 champion who raced for Ferrari in the early ’70s. “Nothing is missing in his career. But oh man, how better can you describe your career after that? Oh my God, he’d be the king of all kings.”

Two weeks before the stallion photo shoot, Hamilton is striking golf balls into a simulator at an indoor club on the banks of the Thames. (He has a pronounced slice.) He doesn’t golf much these days, but Hamilton being Hamilton—a man who has taken full advantage of this sport’s jet-setting ways to become one of the world’s most prominent collectors of influential people—he last played a round with actor Tom Holland, a.k.a. Spider-Man. His other golf partners have included Samuel L. Jackson and Kelly Slater, the surfing GOAT. He was once supposed to play with another GOAT, Michael Jordan, but when Hamilton got to the course, he says, Jordan “didn’t end up being there.”

As we’re taking swings, I ask Hamilton if he’s checked out TGL, the indoor golf competition founded by Tiger Woods and Rory McIlroy that just launched its first season in the U.S. He hasn’t. I explain some of the particulars—it’s a team league, ESPN is showing it on weeknights—before it sounds familiar. But Hamilton is involved with so many projects—movies, art, fashion lines, the Denver Broncos, a pet-food company, a plant-based burger chain with Leonardo DiCaprio—that he can’t quite remember whether he poured some money into this new outfit. “I might have,” he says, with a laugh. (He did.)

Hamilton takes a break from golf, reclines on a couch, and orders a latte before sharing the story of how he arrived at this moment. It began a long time ago, when he was a kid growing up in public housing north of London. His first Ferrari memories have stuck with him. He would drive Schumacher’s car in racing video games. The Ferrari replica featured in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off—the 1961 250 GT California Spyder—is still, to this day, Hamilton’s favorite. “That’s the ultimate retirement car,” he says. “I can just see myself with Roscoe, him with a scarf and goggles in the seat next to me, driving down the PCH.” (Roscoe, Hamilton’s pet bulldog—who, like his owner, is vegan—has an Instagram account with 1.1 million followers.)

McLaren signed Hamilton to a driver’s deal in 1998, when he was 13. In 2006, Hamilton won the championship in what is now known as Formula Two. “I did have the bit of red on my helmet,” he says. During that F2 season, and the one prior in F3, Hamilton raced for team principal Frédéric Vasseur, whose management style and ability to recruit top engineering talent to his lower-level operation impressed the young driver. Hamilton figured Vasseur would be a F1 leader one day.

Hamilton won his first F1 championship in 2008, his second season with McLaren. He competed there for four more seasons before jumping, in 2013, to Mercedes, a middling team that Hamilton lifted to championship heights. Through it all, Hamilton maintained cordial relations with Ferrari leadership. He’d walk past the Ferrari garage at races, say “ciao” to the mechanics, and hear them say “vieni Ferrari” (come to Ferrari). Around 2018, Hamilton met with Ferrari chairman John Elkann. Both sides expressed a desire to see Hamilton in red. But by the end of the 2020 season, Hamilton had four straight championships with Mercedes. He had no reason to jump ship. “If I’m really honest, I had accepted the fact that I’m probably not going to drive for Ferrari,” says Hamilton. “I was OK with that.”

After the 2021 season, Hamilton nearly walked away from racing. He—and millions of his fans—felt his record eighth driver title was stolen from him, when during the final race of the year, in Abu Dhabi, an official’s controversial decision allowed Verstappen to overtake Hamilton in the last lap and clinch his first title. Hamilton ultimately refused to quit without a fight, but he failed to win a single race as Verstappen cruised to another pair of championships. Hamilton signed a two-year extension with Mercedes in the summer of 2023, but the deal allowed him an option to leave after one year.

Meanwhile, true to Hamilton’s prediction, his de facto coach in the minors, Vasseur, took over an F1 team in 2016. Before the 2023 season, he was hired for a new team-principal gig—at Ferrari. Vasseur got wind of the loophole in Hamilton’s new deal—“He told me at one stage,” says Vasseur. “Good news”—and aimed to sign an agreement with Hamilton before the 2024 season. He wanted his drivers under contract last year, LeClerc and Sainz, to be free of whispers regarding their status. So while Hamilton was at his home in Colorado in December 2023, he got a call from Vasseur asking him to join Ferrari starting in 2025. “I remember getting off the phone and, like, almost shaking,” says Hamilton, who’s now almost shaking while recalling the moment. “I was like, Oh God!”

He told a friend who was with him about the call; they both sat in silence on a bathroom floor in shock. “I was like, Holy sh-t,” says Hamilton. “I literally just signed with Mercedes.” Breaking up with a team that felt like family was far from a no-brainer. And he didn’t have much time to decide. “It was a lot to take in, and my emotions were really high,” says Hamilton. “So I honestly had to go for a walk.” He left the house for an hour to decompress.

Hamilton then spent a few days meditating. He was leaning toward Ferrari. “My eyes felt really calm and present,” he says. “This is the right thing for me.” When he’d switched from McLaren to Mercedes all those years ago, he solicited too much advice. Here, he confided in just a few family members and trusted friends. “One cannot discount the Ferrari influence on the sport, especially through the eyes of a child,” says Mellody Hobson, co-CEO of Ariel Investments and the former chair of the Starbucks board, who’s very close to Hamilton. During negotiations, after every phone call with Ferrari, he’d jump around like a little kid.

“We’re in a time of reimagining the future, reimagining what really dreaming is about,” says Hamilton. “I’m going to Ferrari, man, and that’s the biggest dream.”

Not everyone is so thrilled. The day after he informed Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff of his decision was Hamilton’s annual paintball outing with his race-team mechanics. When he arrived, he was too nervous to get out of his car. “These are guys I’ve been with so many years,” says Hamilton. He eventually stood on top of a table to address his decision. His squad appeared understanding and supportive. But they let him have it in paintball. “They lit me up, hard,” says Hamilton. “It was so painful.” At one point, he was hiding behind a barrel shooting at the other team when he was struck from behind. A member of his own squadron had nailed him. “Freaking guy,” says Hamilton.

They laughed about it afterward and managed to get through the season. “There is no bad blood,” says Hamilton. “Absolutely not. We won so many championships.” (Mercedes declined to comment for this story.) Andrea Kimi Antonelli, an 18-year-old from Bologna, will take Hamilton’s place in the Mercedes lineup. “They have all the ingredients to win world championships, and they will win more world championships,” says Hamilton of Mercedes. “I have no doubt.”

In a book published in November—Inside Mercedes F1: Life in the Fast Lane—Wolff says Hamilton’s move “helps us because it avoids the moment where we need to tell the sport’s most iconic driver that we want to stop … We’re in a sport where cognitive sharpness is extremely important, and I believe everyone has a shelf life.” The comments caused a stir, and Wolff clarified that Hamilton is still “very sharp.”

Hamilton insists Wolff’s remark doesn’t bother him. He points to athletes like Tom Brady and LeBron James who’ve achieved success into their 40s. “Don’t ever compare me to anybody else,” says Hamilton. “I’m the first and only Black driver that’s ever been in this sport. I’m built different. I’ve been through a lot. I’ve had my own journey. You can’t compare me to another 40-year-old, past or present, Formula One driver in history. Because they are nothing like me. I’m hungry, driven, don’t have a wife and kids. I’m focused on one thing, and that’s winning. That’s my No. 1 priority.”

He also dismisses criticism from the broader racing community. Former F1 team owner Eddie Jordan said in a December podcast that it was “absolutely suicidal” for Ferrari to drop Sainz from its roster, given the strong working relationship between him and LeClerc. (Sainz will now race for Williams.) “I’ve always welcomed the negativity,” says Hamilton. “I never, ever reply to any of the older, ultimately, white men who have commented on my career and what they think I should be doing. How you show up, how you present yourself, how you perform slowly dispels that.”

Others, including former Ferrari driver Jacky Ickx, have suggested that Ferrari has signed Hamilton primarily for his commercial value. “I think it’s really unfair to Lewis, some of the comments saying, ‘This is a marketing operation,’” says Elkann, the Ferrari chairman. “Truth said, Lewis doesn’t need that. Ferrari doesn’t need that. What we need to do is win championships and do great things on the track. If that happens, what we can do outside of the track, in some ways, takes care of itself. There’s unlimited possibilities.”

The pressure, internal and external, Hamilton faces is immense. No F1 team owns more constructor titles than Ferrari, but they last won in 2008. Ferrari also owns the driver record, with 15, but the last Ferrari driver to win an individual crown was Kimi Raikkonen, in 2007. Ferrari fans are so passionate that they go by their own name, the tifosi. At the Ferrari museum, not far from the team’s 9.3 million-sq.-ft. campus in Maranello, Italy, pilgrims often start crying, or propose marriage, in the Hall of Victories, which showcases the team’s championship cars and more than 100 trophies.

One night in early February, at the Ristorante Montana, which displays a trove of Ferrari memorabilia in its dining room, Andrea Puttini, a seller of building materials from Naples, is outside enjoying a smoke. “In Italy, we say it’s not important if you speak bad or speak good about something,” says Puttini. “The importance is that you are talking about this. And Hamilton, just for being here, he lets us talk all over the world about Ferrari.”

Hamilton connected with as many of his new co-workers as possible during his first visit to Maranello in January, shaking hands until his arm was pulsating. “The amount of ciaos and grazies and piaceres I was saying, aye aye aye,” he says. After his first test run, he went out to greet the supporters lining a bridge that overlooks Ferrari’s private racetrack. A few weeks later, a fan decked out in a red Ferrari shirt and cowboy hat cut down a tree to allow the tifosi a better look at a Hamilton practice.

Hamilton first spotted himself in a Ferrari suit while in, of all places, the loo; he was washing his hands and looked up into the mirror. “I’m in red, I’m like, Whoa!” he says. He paused for a moment to take in the reflection. He liked what he saw. “The suit looked so good on me,” says Hamilton, laughing. “I’m like, Damn.” When seated in a Ferrari race car for the first time, he closed his eyes when the engine started and smiled. “The vibrations are different,” he says. He let them course through his body. “You just wonder how that feels,” Hamilton says. Now he knows. “It’s a really, really special moment.”

Still, Hamilton is well aware that Italian sports fans have not always been so welcoming of Black athletes like himself. He competed in karting races there in his younger days, starting at around 12, and experienced racist abuse, just as he had in England. He prefers not to go into details. “I don’t want to dwell,” he says. But he’s heard the racist chants directed at Black soccer players in particular. “I’m not going to lie, it definitely crossed my mind when I was thinking about my decision,” he says. “Like in so many things, it’s often such a small group of people that set that trend for many. I don’t think that it’s going to be a problem.”

Ferrari’s diversity—or lack thereof—was Hamilton’s more pressing concern. In the wake of George Floyd’s 2020 murder, as part of the worldwide sports protest movement against racial injustice, Hamilton started the Hamilton Commission to offer recommendations for more Black representation in U.K. motorsports. Mercedes launched its own diversity initiative in the months that followed and began hiring personnel from underrepresented groups, including Black engineers. “I did think, Oh my God, I’ve finally got a more diverse working environment that we’ve built over time,” says Hamilton. “And now I’m going back to the beginning of my time with Mercedes, where it wasn’t diverse.”

Along with every other F1 team, Ferrari signed a Diversity and Inclusion charter in November. While the new Trump Administration has made a point of attacking diversity—the President has signed a series of executive orders targeting diversity, equity, and inclusion programs—Hamilton, for one, remains locked in. “I’m not going to change what he does, or the government does. All I can do is try to make sure that in my space, in my environment, I’m trying to elevate people,” he says. “There’s going to be forces along the way that don’t want that, for whatever reason I can’t fathom. That doesn’t stop me. It is a fight that we’ll just keep fighting.” Hamilton is confident that Ferrari is committed to inclusion.

Vasseur, Hamilton’s new boss, agrees that it’s important, though as he fiddles with a binder clip in an office at Ferrari headquarters, where trade secrets are so closely guarded visitors must place stickers over their mobile-phone cameras (red ones, of course), he suggests that it may not be his top goal. “It’s not politically correct, but first is performance,” he says. “I’m keen to go into the direction of diversity and so on. We are doing our best effort. We are trying to push in this direction, but I want to build up the best team.”

I show Vasseur, who hails from France, a photo I found online: it’s him and Hamilton some 20 years ago, celebrating a win. He shows me some photos on his own phone, of his children, who are now grown, with Hamilton. He’s enjoying the walk down memory lane. But, he says, “We can’t be sentimental.”

Switching teams is difficult for any driver. The steering wheel, the cockpit, the terminology, they’re all different. “I’m literally learning a completely new book,” says Hamilton. F1 regulations allow limited practice time in the new car. He’s made strides in his Italian, thanks to lessons, but he’s by no means fluent. It took Hamilton more than four months to win a race in his first season with Mercedes. What gives Vasseur confidence that Hamilton will accelerate that learning curve?

“I could reply like a book and give you something that you want to write,” Vasseur replies. “But at the end of the day, at this part of the season, the feeling, the first time, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, will be nothing compared to race one in Australia. You will forget about everything that happened before. It’s all about pure performance.”

While Hamilton swears his devotion to Ferrari, his schedule has remained plenty full. A Fashion Week and red-carpet regular, he has his own production company, a Dior line, and other enterprises. He says he’s in the preliminary stages of developing scripts for a comedy—it doesn’t involve racing—and a film pertaining to pets. (That’s all he’ll offer.) But the biggest thing on the horizon, besides of course the 24 Grand Prix races in the season, is the upcoming F1 movie.

Tom Cruise had first connected Hamilton with director Joseph Kosinski because Hamilton was interested in an acting role in Top Gun: Maverick. Kosinski was ready to bring him on board, but Hamilton was still fighting for championships with Mercedes and couldn’t afford the time commitment. Cruise screened the movie, which grossed $1.5 billion worldwide upon its 2022 release, for Hamilton in London. “I was crying a bit inside,” Hamilton says. “Ah, that could have been me!”

So when Kosinski called Hamilton about his F1 project, Hamilton jumped at the chance to be a producer. Early in the process, he took Pitt, who plays a veteran F1 driver in the film, for a drive around a track near Los Angeles. “He gave Brad the scare of a lifetime in a lap,” says Kosinski. “Brad was clawing at the windows, begging to get out.” Hamilton was also part of the casting process and offered instructive feedback. “The notes are so detailed,” says Bruckheimer. “‘When you’re going into that next turn, you have the car in second gear, it should be in third. I can hear it. I can hear the sound of it.’” He pushed for Hans Zimmer, composer of The Lion King, Gladiator, Dune, and other hits, to score it. His close relationship with F1 CEO Stefano Domenicali, a former Ferrari team principal, helped the filmmakers gain access to F1 tracks and races to shoot scenes. “He opened all those doors for us into that world,” says Kosinski. “We would not have been able to do this without him.”

Hamilton is predicting box-office success. “It’s going to blow away anything that’s ever been done in Formula One before,” Hamilton says. The Netflix behind-the-scenes docuseries, Formula 1: Drive to Survive, has been properly credited for expanding F1’s popularity, especially in the U.S. Hamilton believes this movie will compel viewers from all different backgrounds to become fans, or even pursue a career in F1. “Netflix has been huge,” he says. “This is going to be even bigger, on more of a global scale.” While F1 might not count as art-house fare—“I don’t think we set out for it to be, like, an Oscar-winning movie,” says Hamilton—he’s promising a memorable experience. “The goal is to make people feel good, to bring people in, to inspire people,” he says. “We want you to leave the cinema and be like, ‘Wow, that was freaking wicked.’”

But even with his creative juices flowing, he’s as energized as ever to drive. In other words, unlike Aroma, whose presence does not seem to have triggered Hamilton’s allergies at all, he has no plans to slow down. “What I can tell you is, retirement is nowhere on my radar,” says Hamilton. “I could be here until I’m 50, who knows.”

Hamilton believes that he and LeClerc are the strongest team pairing in the sport and that Verstappen is “absolutely” beatable. “I know exactly where the North Star is,” says Hamilton. “I know where I need to go. I know how to get there. It’s far, and it’s going to be tough to get there, but I know I’ve got all the ingredients, all the people, an amazing team around me. So it’s how much you want it. And I can’t express to you how much I want it.”

[misskattylashes]

This essay is so big, it needs two parts!

The EYCTE cycle

Part 1

From ‘I Just wanted to be one of the Strokes’ to ‘I’m scared of love’ and why I don’t think we will get TLSP 3 any time soon.

There is no doubt that Planet Milex is a different place to where it was in 2015. Back then, they hung out in LA, treated girlfriends like third wheels, were pictured cuddling and behaving like a couple outside The Kills gig, and then went onto record Everything You’ve Come to Expect.

Planet Milex 2024 seems like a desert. No official pictures of them together, the only indication they are still in each other’s lives being Miles frequently mentioning in interviews about hanging out with Alex, still sharing clothes, a picture of them walking the streets of Shoreditch, a sneaky photo at a Scott Walker tribute concert (which interestingly was taken down immediately). Then ultimately, Alex wanting his beloved to be the support act for the final days of the tour, when it was clear at times Alex felt a little overwhelmed by it all, and of course, Miles was there to hold his hand and bring him back down to earth.

‘Maybe I was a little too wild in the seventies’

It’s interesting out of all the Monkey’s songs, it is I Wanna Be Yours that Alex then merged with Star Treatment (often adding ‘I just wanted a jet ski for the moat’ – more of that later), which kind of confirms who I Wanna Be Yours is about – I have no idea why no none has ever questioned the addition of ‘secrets I have held in my heart’.

I think the EYCTE period was one where feelings deepened and promises were made. The one to watch is Miles. At the beginning of the promotional period, Alex looks like an adoring boyfriend, but Miles is quite composed and whilst flirty with Alex, it’s no more than he ever was before, during the SIAS and AM eras. By the end, in the days of Sziget and Rock en Seine. Miles is looking like a soppy puppy with eyes full of love (pretty much how Alex has looked at him since 2008!). But judging by the lyrics of Star Treatment (which Alex started writing during EYCTE), Alex was aware their little bubble couldn’t last ‘here ain’t no place for dolls like you and me’, but Miles, having fallen hard thought they could keep it going.

Alex went off to France to record TBHC leaving Miles stranded in LA, friendless and a bit lost, meanwhile Alex went through a period of self-reflection and justifying to himself why he had let Miles down. Not all the songs on TBHC are related to Milex, Alex was influenced by a whole variety of things, but songs like Star Treatment, Golden Trunks, Batphone and The Ultracheese address their situation. The Ultracheese even ends ‘I done some things that I shouldn’t have done, but I haven’t stopped loving you once’. I see TBHC as Alex’s ‘excuse album’. Sorry I let you down Miles, but look what a big superstar I am with all these big responsibilities, but know I love you’

Miles on the other hand was angry and hurt and wanted to lash out. Coup de Grace is full of angst with thinly veiled digs at Alex (of course during the official promotion, Miles said it was about Hannah his ex but I do think mentioning Alex’s personal information in Killing the Joke is kind of telling). Wrong Side of Life is possibly one of the saddest and most desperate songs I have ever heard. And on Silverscreen, how do you explain Two Faced Johnny as being a woman?! The only hint at self-blame is on Too Little Too Late, with the lines ‘I’m too fickle set in my ways, I’m too little too late’ – which has echoes of Troubled Son. Personally, I think one of the reasons Alex possibly wanted to go back to how they were prior to EYCTE was because Miles had never committed before (see most of AM!) and it was a case of do the hurting before being hurt. But CDG ends with Shavambacu, which in an interview Miles said was about an ex and they used to call each other Shavambacu as a silly little name (cue footage of Miles calling Alex Shavambacu on stage). And the last line is ‘oh honey I love you’. Like TBHC, CDG ends with a declaration of love.

In between CDG and CTS we have the night at La Cigale (which I will write about in a different post) where I think their fall out came to a head, because not long after that, we have grainy footage of them hanging out in East London. At the same time Miles is writing Change The Show, and whilst the songs are still a bit angsty, there is a lot more pragmatism. See Ya When I See Ya stands out, and we have the ‘Johnny’ character again, but instead of being angry with Alex for his double life and secrets, Miles has resigned to himself he’ll always be there for him and keep his secrets for him. I think because they had reconciled to a degree, Miles realised they weren’t going anywhere, but it didn’t mean Alex didn’t annoy him. Final track Adios ta ra ta ra indicates exasperation at their constant battles, but there is still an air of resignation.

Part two tomorrow

[sassenach77yle]

7x10 “Brotherly Love”

WHEN IAN FELT WELL enough, he came out walking with Jamie. Sometimes only as far as the yard or the barn, to lean on the fence and make remarks to Jenny’s sheep. Sometimes he felt well enough to walk miles, which amazed—and alarmed—Jamie. Still, he thought, it was good to walk side by side through the moors and the forest and down beside the loch, not talking much but side by side. It didn’t matter that they walked slowly; they always had, since Ian had come back from France with a wooden leg.“I’m lookin’ forward to having back my leg,” Ian had remarked casually once, when they sat in the shelter of the big rock where Fergus had lost his hand, looking out over the small burn that ran down at the foot of the hill, watching for the stray flash of a leaping trout.“Aye, that’ll be good,” Jamie had said, smiling a little—and a little wry about it, too, recalling when he’d waked after Culloden and thought his own leg missing. He’d been upset and tried to comfort himself with the thought that he’d get it back eventually, if he made it out of purgatory and into heaven. Of course, he’d thought he was dead, too, but that hadn’t seemed nearly as bad as the imagined loss of his leg.“I dinna suppose ye’ll have to wait,” he said idly, and Ian blinked at him.“Wait for what?”“Your leg.” He realized suddenly that Ian had no notion what he’d been thinking, and hastened to explain.“So I was only thinking, ye wouldna spend much time in purgatory—if at all—so ye’ll have it back soon.”Ian grinned at him. “What makes ye sae sure I willna spend a thousand years in purgatory? I might be a terrible sinner, aye?”“Well, aye, ye might be,” Jamie admitted. “Though if so, ye must think the devil of a lot of wicked thoughts, because if ye’d been doing anything, I’d know about it.”“Oh, ye think so?” Ian seemed to find this funny. “Ye havena seen me in years. I might ha’ been doing anything, and ye’d never ken a thing about it!”“Of course I would,” Jamie said logically. “Jenny would tell me. And ye dinna mean to suggest she wouldna ken if ye had a mistress and six bastard bairns, or ye’d taken to the highways and been robbing folk in a black silk mask?”“Well, possibly she would,” Ian admitted. “Though come on, man, there’s nothing ye could call a highway within a hundred miles. And I’d freeze to death long before I came across anyone worth robbin’ in one o’ the passes.” He paused, eyes narrowed against the wind, contemplating the criminal possibilities open to him.

“I could ha’ been stealing cattle,” he offered. “Though there’re sae few beasts these days, the whole parish would ken it at once should one go missing. And I doubt I could hide it amongst Jenny’s sheep wi’ any hope of its not bein’ noticed.”He thought further, chin in hand, then reluctantly shook his head.“The sad truth is, Jamie, no one’s had a thing worth stealin’ in the Highlands these twenty years past. Nay, theft’s right out, I’m afraid. So is fornication, because Jenny would ha’ killed me already. What does that leave? There’s no really anything to covet…. I suppose lying and murder is all that’s left, and while I’ve met the odd man I would ha’ liked to kill, I never did.” He shook his head regretfully, and Jamie laughed.“Oh, aye? Ye told me ye killed men in France.”“Well, aye, I did, but that was a matter of war—or business,” he added fairly. “I was bein’ paid to kill them; I didna do it out o’ spite.”“Well, then, I’m right,” Jamie pointed out. “Ye’ll sail straight through purgatory like a rising cloud, for I canna think of a single lie ye’ve ever told me.”Ian smiled with great affection.“Aye, well, I may ha’ told lies now and then, Jamie—but no, not to you.”He looked down at the worn wooden peg stretched before him and scratched at the knee on that side.“I wonder, will it feel different?”“How could it not?”“Well, the thing is,” Ian said, wiggling his sound foot to and fro, “I can still feel my missing foot. Always have been able to, ever since it went. Not all the time, mind,” he added, looking up. “But I do feel it. A verra strange thing. Do ye feel your finger?” he asked curiously, raising his chin at Jamie’s right hand.“Well… aye, I do. Not all the time, but now and then—and the nasty thing is that even though it’s gone, it still hurts like damnation, which doesna seem really fair.”He could have bitten his tongue at that, for here Ian was dying, and him complaining that the loss of his finger wasn’t fair. Ian wheezed with amusement, though, and leaned back, shaking his head.“If life was fair, then what?”They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the wind move through the pines on the hillside opposite. Then Jamie reached into his sporran and brought out the tiny white-wrapped package. It was a bit grubby from being in his sporran but had been tidily preserved and tightly wrapped.Ian eyed the little bundle in his palm.“What’s this?”My finger,” Jamie said. “I—well… I wondered whether ye’d maybe not mind to have it buried with ye.”Ian looked at him for a moment. Then his shoulders started to shake.“God, don’t laugh!” Jamie said, alarmed. “I didna mean to make ye laugh! Christ, Jenny will kill me if ye cough up a lung and die out here!”Ian was coughing, fits of it interspersed with long-drawn-out wheezes of laughter. Tears of mirth stood in his eyes, and he pressed both fists into his chest, struggling to breathe. At last, though, he left off and straightened slowly up, making a sound like a bellows. He sniffed deep and casually spat a glob of horrifying scarlet into the rocks.“I’d rather die out here laughin’ at you than in my bed wi’ six priests say-in’ prayers,” he said. “Doubt I’ll get the chance, though.” He put out a hand, palm up. “Aye, give it here.”Jamie laid the little white-wrapped cylinder in his hand, and Ian tucked the finger casually into his own sporran.“I’ll keep it safe ’til ye catch me up.”

81 PURGATORY II ~ An echo in the Bone

He had been holding Ian’s hand, clasping hard, trying to force some notion of well-being from his own calloused palm into Ian’s thin gray skin. His thumb slid upward now, pressing on the wrist where he had seen Claire grip, searching out the truth of a patient’s health.He felt the skin give, sliding across the bones of Ian’s wrist. He thought suddenly of the blood vow given at his marriage, the sting of the blade and Claire’s cold wrist pressed to his and the blood slick between them. Ian’s wrist was cold, too, but not from fear.He glanced at his own wrist, but there was no trace of a scar, either from vows or fetters; those wounds were fleeting, long-healed.

“D’ye remember when we gave each other blood for blood?”

Ian’s eyes were closed, but he smiled. Jamie’s hand tightened on the bony wrist, a little startled but not truly surprised that Ian had reached into his mind and caught the echo of his thoughts.

“Aye, of course.”

He couldn’t help a small smile of his own, a painful one.They’d been eight years old, the two of them. Jamie’s mother and her bairn had died the day before. The house had been full of mourners, his father dazed with shock. They had slipped out, he and Ian, scrambling up the hill behind the house, trying not to look at the fresh-dug grave by the broch. Into the wood, safe under the trees.Had slowed then, wandering, come to a stop at last at the top of the high hill, where some old stone building that they called the fort had fallen down long ago. They’d sat on the rubble, wrapped in their plaids against the wind, not talking much.“I thought I’d have a new brother,” he’d said suddenly. “But I don’t. It’s just Jenny and me, still.” In the years since, he’d succeeded in forgetting that small pain, the loss of his hoped-for brother, the boy who might have given him back a little of his love for his older brother, Willie, dead of the smallpox. He’d cherished that pain for a little, a flimsy shield against the enormity of knowing his mother gone forever.Ian had sat thinking for a bit, then reached into his sporran and got out the wee knife his father had given him on his last birthday.

“I’ll be your brother,” he’d said, matter-of-fact, and cut across his thumb, hissing a little through his teeth.He’d handed the knife to Jamie, who’d cut himself, surprised that it hurt so much, and then they’d pressed their thumbs together and sworn to be brothers always. And had been.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself against the nearness of death, the black finality.“Ian. Shall I…” Ian’s eyelids lifted, the soft brown of his gaze sharpening into clarity at what he heard in the thickness of Jamie’s voice. Jamie cleared his throat hard and looked away, then looked back, feeling obscurely that to look away was cowardly.“Will ye have me hasten ye?” he asked, very softly. Even as he spoke, the cold part of his mind sought the way. Not by the blade, no; it was quick and clean, a proper man’s departure, but it would cause his sister and the weans grief; neither he nor Ian had the right to leave a final memory stained with blood.Ian’s grip neither slackened nor clung, but of a sudden Jamie felt the pulse he had looked for in vain, a small, steady throb against his own palm.He hadn’t looked away, but his eyes blurred, and he bent his head to hide the tears.Claire… She would know how, but he couldn’t ask her to do it. Her own vow kept her from it.“No,” Ian said. “Not yet, anyway.” He’d smiled, eyes soft. “But I’m glad to ken ye’ll do it if I need ye to, mo brathair.”

[hobie-enthusiast]

I really love how you write!! I was wondering if you could so smth with hobie x autistic + sunshine!reader? I'm autistic, and i've constantly been belittled for it so it'd mean a lot to see my biggest cc with an autistic reader!! If you're worried about how to approach it maybe you could do smth like reader using noise canceling headphones? or like comforting when reader had an autistic meltdown?? Ofc these are just ideas, whatever you wna do!! Also don't fret if you don't want to do this request, just wanted to ask !!! ^w^

Oh and gender neutral with they/them pronouns please!! 🫶

- 🎀 anonymous

(Emoji signoffs are so cute!! hoping you don't mind me adding one !!!)

QUIET AND EASE !

— hobie brown x energetic!autistic!gn!reader

— fluff and comfort, autistic meltdown, noise canceling headphones, petnames (sweetheart, love), hobie’s worried and nervous, sensory overload, breakdowns due to loud noises, almost panic attacks

— time with your friends was always nice, but sometimes it got to be too much, and hobie is always there to help

— ill do u one better anon how about incorporating both 🫶 also ofc you can have an emoji! thank u for ur support!

— official disclaimer: the following fic and reader experience is based on my experience and also other aspects i have read up on. every autistic person is different, and they won’t all have this exact reaction when it comes to a meltdown. so pls keep that in mind when reading :) if anything seems wrong please feel free to tell me!

Everything was so so loud.

The two of you agreed two have friends over, a small hangout. It had been a while since everyone had hung out, so Hobie suggested hosting them. You agreed, wanting to see everyone again after a while.

You welcomed everyone excitedly, wanting to show off your place. “Hey guys! Come on in, let me give you a tour!”

You dragged them all around the apartment, pointing out various things that maybe they didn’t notice. Your favourites; some hanging pictures, pieces, and collectables.

The other owner of the place, Hobie, couldn’t help but smile a bit at your excited nature. That’s just how you were, naturally excited about your interests. He encouraged that, loving the way you seem to know so much about these types of things.

After a tour and explanations you so graciously provided, you ushered everyone to grab some dinner or snacks. You had some entertainment planned out, so you and Hobie let everyone decide what they wanted to do. It was a nice time, and you enjoyed your friend’s company.

But soon, they just got too rowdy for your liking. It was about a couple hours into get-together and Miles and Pavitr decided it would be a great idea to play some board and card games. Of course, the competitive nature led to some yelling between the teens.

You tapped out of the game a while ago, feeling an anxious nerve tapping at the back of your head. You hoped it was nothing. That you could continue enjoying your friend’s company.

Definitely not the case.

“Oh come on! I had it that round!” Miles groaned loudly, nudging Gwen. “I would have won!”

“But you didn’t! I remain the victor!” Pavitr declares loudly, collecting all the cards.

Hobie laughs lowly, finding amusement in the banter among the younger ones. It was nice hearing everyone just able to relax and not worry about their duties. Well, there was one person he hadn’t heard from in a minute.

The older turned to you, noticing the way you seemed to just be.. staring out. Your hands were messing with one another, and your leg was bouncing crazily. Your eyes were glassy, almost as if..

Oh. Oh no.

Subtly, Hobie scoots closer to you, minding himself to not touch you. “Doin’ okay, love?”

The words go into your head, you hear them. But it’s difficult to process. Were you okay? Was this okay? No, it wasn’t, but can you even say that? Should you tell him? Will you tell him? So many overwhelming questions.

“I-”

“Oh come on! You have to be cheating!”

A particularly loud yell from Miles causes you to flinch, head dropping to your knees. No, you weren’t okay. Not one bit. Tears sprang to your eyes quickly as your body rocks, hands harshly pushing against your ears.

This is when Hobie knew he had to spring into action. “Guys, c’mon, ‘s time t’ get goin’.”

Everyone looks up at Hobie, confused, with Gwen being first to speak up. “What? Hobie, we just got here?”

“‘m sorry, but you can come back ‘nother time. Please.” He requests, ushering everyone to stand up.

As Hobie tries to get everyone out and away, you’re off in your own world. Your head was spinning, all your sense coming at you at full force. Everything was crashing down on you, and you couldn’t stop it.

Once he managed to get everyone out, his feet were moving him to your shared room. He needed the essentials; your blanket, your headphones, and your phone. He’d get more once you asked, certainly. Rushing back to you, he kneels down, hands glued to his thighs.

“Hey swee’heart..” He says in a really quiet whisper, not wanting to upset you further. “‘m gonna put these on ya, okay? Jus’ real quick, then ‘m done.. I’ll be right over here for ya.”

He knew these types of things could be harmful, you told him that before. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally hurt him. But letting you know what he’s doing helped a small part of your brain, one trying to gain regulation.

Carefully, Hobie moves to put your headphones on your head, the noise from the outside world coming to a halt. He moves back after, hands in your view as he backs up. That’s how he shows that he’s away, letting you have your space.

Next, he mimics your position, drawing his knees to his chest. Hobie’s nervous, he couldn’t deny, but all he could do was sit and wait. You needed your space, and he would be here to help you with the aftermath.

And then he just.. waits.

Once the sound is blocked out, that’s one less worry on your mind. You focus next on the tears streaming down your face. Everything felt sore, your mind was hurting. That made you want to cry.

You bit your lip as you shake your hands, trying to get some sort of stability. You focus on the movement of your hand, watching the rings Hobie let you steal jangle together. No doubt they make a nice sound, Hobie probably hears it.

Your brain waves start to slow down, you can tell. Without the overwhelming sense, you start to feel at ease. Some thoughts are able to run through.

‘Breathe. Think. Safe.’

You try your hardest to repeat these words in your head, continuously stimming as the tears finally stop. Without the horrible feeling of crying, it’s somewhat easier to understand what’s happening. The loud sounds were gone. You were okay.

By the time you managed to gain more of yourself, your head was hurting badly. Glancing up, you notice the way Hobie was looking at you. He had a worried expression. He didn’t wear it often, but he was now. He was nervous for you.

He gives a small wave, gaining a small laugh from you as you wave back. Then, he holds out his hand, giving you the option to take it. He wants nothing more than to hold and comfort you, he wants to help make you feel secure.

You cautiously take his hand, allowing him to wrap his arms around you. This instantly made you melt in his embrace. Exhaustion was catching up with you.

But things could be okay now. You were alone with Hobie, someone you trusted immensely.

Hobie was relieved when you allowed yourself to be embraced by him. He felt better knowing he could give you this sense of comfort. It was better than being able to do nothing.

Gently, he kisses your forehead when he feels your body slumping. “Mhm.. rest, swee’heart.. ‘m here..”

He knew his words were blocked by your headphones, but he still whispered them anyways. Almost like assuring himself. Everything was okay. You were okay.

Hobie decided that tonight was a good night for a sleep on the floor. He grabs your blanket, putting it over both of your bodies while lying back. He lets you adjust your body so you can sleep comfortably with the headphones on, which happens to be on his side with hands intertwined.

He was comfortable. You were comfortable. And he could easily fall asleep knowing that you would wake up and hopefully feel as good as you did earlier that day.