#idk why i felt like i needed to write this; but i want to air on the side of caution

[faaun]

the forest looks like heaven today i woke up feeling the heaviest weight at the top of my heart

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Just a heads-up for tomorrow; I'll be posting a match-up for a friend of mine (a birthday gift).

My match-ups are not currently open, so please do not send any in; this is a gift for a friend.

[f1fantasys]

uhm so i have an idea where Lando is working out alone to release his emotions, perhaps after a bad day or bad race. but suddenly, you enter the gym, which annoys him because he wanted to be alone right now.

however, as you start working out, he kinda ogling your 🍒 and eventually decides to approach you to talk and that led to the spicy part when he starts touching you and fucked you on one of the bench using you to let out his anger 🫣 tysm!!!

THIS!! I don't feel like I've done this INCREDIBLE request justice. So someone please write a better one and tag me in it! @ccsainzleclerc5516 you would do amazing at this!

POST RACE WORKOUT

Warnings - smut!! need i say more?

2.4 words. IDK why it's so short - feel like i have writers block.

The Monaco weekend was always a fun one. Fun, but extremely busy, especially being a Sky presenter. From the Monday leading up to the weekend you'd been in and out of meetings, events, and not to mention recording and being live on air for several hours a day. But you loved it, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

But now that the race and post-race shows were finally over, you still had a lot of adrenaline and energy to burn, which is why you currently found yourself walking up the stairs to the gym, wearing the tightest tights and a sports bra. It was well past midnight, but, having connections had its perks, so here you were.

You pushed open the door and stopped in your tracks. There was some distant music playing and as your eyes scanned the room you definitely weren't expecting to find Lando Norris who was currently lifting weights, shirtless, might I add. He stopped what he was doing and stood up, eyes shamelessly searching your body, but an annoyed look on his face.

''Uh, hey'' you greeted.

All he did was nod his head.

''You good?'' you couldn't help but ask at the way he was looking at you. You felt you own cheeks heat up as you gawked at his body that was riled with sweat.

''Yeah'' was all he said as he turned around and continued what he was doing.

You of course have had a lot of interaction with Lando - several interviews and social media videos which meant you'd spent quite a lot of time with him. Obviously, he was one hell of hot man, and yes, you looked, but you'd never touch. Your work was too important to get involved with any of the drivers. You'd also noticed him looking more often than not, but you never allowed your mind to go there.

As you stood there for a few minutes you couldn't help but feel bad for the guy. He'd had a shitty race - mclaren had fucked his strategy, once again, and he didn't get the win. So you totally understood why he was in the gym at the time - also trying to get rid of the adrenaline.

You dragged your feet to the treadmill and hopped on, setting a medium pace, trying to focus on something else and not the half naked man across the room.

After about 15 minutes you slowed your pace down a bit, grabbing your towel to wipe the sheet of sweat over your face and arms. As you walked over to do some weights, you looked ahead in the mirror and locked eyes with Lando. He was standing drinking his water, and you watched as his eyes left yours and shamelessly looked your body up and down again. To be fair - you were swearing the skimpiest gym clothes which left nothing to the imagination.

What you didn't know was that Lando had been eye fucking you the full 15 minutes you were running. He had wanted to be alone, let out his frustration, but that changed the minute he realized it was you who walked through the door. He licked his lips as he saw how your tights wrapped around your ass so perfectly, how your boobs were bouncing and threatening to spill out of your bra, how you back muscles flexed as you ran, and how sweat covered your body making you glisten under the lights. Lando had always found you attractive to say the least, and now he was painfully hard by just watching you workout. He wanted nothing more than to walk up to you and rip your clothes off, bend you over, and rail into you.

You tried your best to ignore him and focus on your task, so you sat on the bench and started brench pressing, heavy breaths leaving your mouth.

Suddenly, you saw Lando standing above you, staring down, and his own breathing just as heavy as yours.

Before you could react and say anything, he held onto the weights and pryed it out of your hands.

''Lan-'' you started, but he cut you off.

''Shh'' you said, before walking around and facing you as you sat up. He took a seat in front of you, legs on either side of the bench as yours were.

You swore you heart was beating out of your chest right now. He looked so heavenly. Bright green eyes, curls messy and sticking to his forehead. And not to mention his god-damn beautiful torso. Muscles taught and defined, with sweat dripping down, his own body shining in the lights.

''Eyes up here'' he said, smirking, catching you out for staring.

''Fuck'' you mumbled to yourself, before you looked up at him.

You felt as his hands found your waist and effortlessly slid you closer to him, and now your breaths were mingling, the heat in your body rising.

As you found yourselves in an apparent staring contest, Lando's hands started roaming your body He traced your arms up and down, your shoulders, you back, and your breath hitched as he suddenly slipped them under your sports bra, feeling up your boobs and fondling with them.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing, but that was impossible with the fact that he was sitting right in front of you and touching you. Now he was rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling at and tugging them, earning himself a moan from you.

''Lando'' you panted, needing more, almost grinding yourself on the bench.

''I know baby''

The nickname gave you goosebumps, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and smile at him.

Soon after, Lando tore your bra off of you, revealing your perky boobs. He lowered his head and latched his mouth onto your left nipple. Biting and sucking on it before using his tongue to sooth over.

Your hands found his hair and you pulled at his curls, edging him on, begging him some more. ''Lando, please'' you said, grinding down on the bench harder than before.

He lifted his head and crashed his lips to yours. It was eager and messy, tongues clashing and spit sliding down both yours and Lando's chin. He bit on your lower lip and you felt him slide his hands through your tights to grope at your ass. By now you were cupping his face, pulling him impossibly closer. While his one hand stayed on your ass, the other slid round to your front and cupped your cunt.

The action has you arching off the bench, breath increasing ever so much as he slid his fingers through your folds, which were soaking by now - something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

''Already dripping for me, love?'' he asked, voice thick and hoarse with his British accent.

''Uh huh'' was all you managed to say, biting your lips at the feeling of his calloused fingers rough against your clit, which he found rather quickly.

He captured your lips with his as he thrust two fingers through your entrance, the swift movement making you tremble in his arms.

''Ride my fingers y/n'' he said between breaths.

And so you did, you rode his fingers hard and fast, and just as he curled them at just the right time, feeling you soft cushiony spot inside of you, you felt a warmth begin to build in your stomach.

No word spoken and Lando added a third finger, sending you trembling over the edge as you latched onto his shoulder for support to ride you through your orgasm.

He slowed his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, before pulling them out and shamelessly licking them clean of you cum, moaning at the taste.

''Hmm, so fucking delicious'''he said, smirking, as you watched, mouth agape.

''Lando please'' you panted. ''Need to feel you in me'' you said, looking at him with longing eyes.

When you looked at him again, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes became ridiculously darker and the emotion he wore on his face was a mix of sudden anger and frustration.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he man handled you to lay down before he ripped your tights off of you and stood up to free himself of his constraints.

You watched as his hard cock bounced first then stood tall and angry.

''Fuck, he's big'' you thought to yourself as he placed himself between your legs.

Lando leaned down to kiss you as you took him in your hands and pumped him a few times, using your thumb to spread his pre cum around his tip.

The movement had him bucking forward, grunting into your mouth.

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. ''You sure?'' he asked.

''Please. Please fuck me''

He lined himself up and wasted no time in slamming into you, bottoming out in one thrust.

''Shit'' you gasped. He was definitely the biggest you'd ever had, and the sting was intense. But this was Lando Norris, and you were determined to let him have his way with you.

He finally started moving, setting a pace that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails dug deep into his skin.

''So fucking tight, fuck y/n''

''Oh, Lando, yes, please, yes'' you cried out, unable to keep your moans at bay.

Lando continued to fuck into you while his mouth found your boobs and sucked hard at them, surely leaving purple bruises for tomorrow.

Within minutes you could feel your walls begin to clench around him, your orgasm approaching fast.

''Fuck, gonna cum Lan-'' you started but before you could finish he pulled out. You whined at him, an annoyed whine which you knew would edge him on further.

He scooped you up with such an ease, and suddenly you were flipped over and on your tummy, Lando sliding into your cunt with force again.

He bunched up your hair and pulled it tight, earning pornographic moans from your mouth straight to his ear.

''Can't win a fucking race but at least I got you begging for me'' he said through bated breaths, finally railing you the way he wanted from when you first walked in.

''Fuck Lando, you won. You won for me'' you moaned. You didn't care what the outcome of the actual race was - in your eyes, he was always a winner.

''Doing so well for me babygirl. That's tight.''

This time your orgasm gave you no warning. Hearing him call you babygirl pushed you over the edge, your body shuddering underneath him and your juices spluttering all over.

You moaned his name as you came, and if anything, he sped up his movements briefly before sliding out of you again.

This time he sat facing the mirror and pulled you up to sit down his lap, facing the mirror as well.

You immediately sank down on his now throbbing dick, setting a harsh pace as his hand snaked its way around you and settled on your throat.

''Want you to watch yourself fuck me'' he roughly whispered in your ear.

You kept your eyes on each other while you rode him, Lando's occasionally dropping down to watch how your boobs bounced up and down with each thrust.

''Fuck'' you hissed as you felt another orgasm approaching.

''Fucking me so good baby, go on. Be my slut'' he urged you to carry on.

Your movements were becoming sloppier, unable to hold yourself up and able to continue to thrust so Lando had to take matters into his own hands.

He was now fucking into you again, but at a relentless pace, clearly chasing his own orgasm as well.

''Together, yeah?'' he asked, his hand sliding down to toy at your clit.

You couldn't hold it in anymore. ''Fuck, Lando, now. I need to cum'' you said, as you felt his cock twitching inside of you.

The room now filled with grunts and moans, swear words flying everywhere as you both reached your climax, juices spilling out of you like the end of the worlds. Lando made sure to empty his load painting your walls white with his warm splutter.

You sank back down on him, letting your weight fall back leaning on him.

You locked eyes in the mirror again, both trying to catch your breaths, sweat dripping down the both of you.

Now that he got his release, Lando couldn't help but feel ashamed at the fact that he used you. Although this was the best sex he'd had in a long time, he felt he needed to apologize, and hope he hadn't fucked up a chance at anything more.

You could feel him softening inside of you, but neither made any attempt to move.

''Lan-''

''Wait. Fuck. I'm sorry if I was too rough'' he said, shyly.

''What?''

''I'm sorry i called you a slut. It was a complement, actually. I just had all this adrenaline from the race. And you were there. And...Fuck, i couldn't help myself'' he was rambling.

''Lando stop.'' you said firmer than you intended to. ''I didn't say I didn't enjoy it. Did I?'' you asked.

He shook his head.

''Really, it was so fucking good, and I'm glad it was me. I'm glad you used me''

''I-What?''

''Yeah, think I needed it as much as you did'' you said.

He wrapped his arms around you holding you tighter.

''Well then I'm glad you walked through the door. Thank you'' he cooed.

You smiled at him and slowly got up, letting him slip out of you, when something dawned on you.

''You ripped my clothes, Lando! literally'' you shrieked, eyes wide and a chuckle filling the air.

He stood up and pecked your lips.

''Well then, you'll just have to come home with me'' he said, smirking, but throwing his t-shirt to you to wear.

As he watching you put it on, he couldn't help but notice the stickiness dripping out of you.

''Fuck'' he mumbled, more to himself.

''What?'' you asked, as you didn't even release he was still watching you.

He didn't say anything, instead he bent down and licked your core, collecting the mixture of both of your cum.

The action had your breath hitching, not expecting it at all. You held onto his head as he did what he did, before he stood back up and let the juice slide out of his mouth and into your, before he kissed you roughly again.

''So fucking hot. Round 2 at mines?'' he asked.

You just smiled and walked to the door, opening it while gesturing him to follow you out.

REMEMBER - requests are open!

[artdcnaldson]

You asked for blurb ideas & that thought here got stuck in my mind since this morning 🌞

Tennis Reader “thanking” Art after their training session in the locker rooms. ;)

Reader sneaks in men’s locker room after training together till evening, surprising (Stanford) Art under the shower + asking for some steamy extra cardio. 👀

And eventually Patrick walks in. Idk abt that but whatever you write is amazing, in every trope 🫶🏻

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (hj, fingering, p in v), throuple dynamics (+1)

A/N: Ok I’m sorry I know you said Stanford but 2019 era Art is ALLLL I can think about 🩷 forgive me for my transgressions pls

Tashi had set the whole thing up, holding his hand through it. Because Tashi and Patrick were off globetrotting for the tour— France, if he remembered correctly. Tashi just wanted to make sure he was taken care of, that his needs were being met. In his career… and otherwise.

You were a player out of… USC? He thought that sounded right. Recently graduated, doing well in the pros, already highly ranked with an excellent record. The perfect first player for Art Donaldson to coach.

She set up the entire thing, met with you to get things organized, and penciled training into his calendar with a tiny note.

Have fun without us -T

You were doing such a good job, even unwittingly— putting on the sweetest little show for him. When you’d miss a serve or a ball went out of bounds, you’d do a peppy little jog then bend over to grab it, completely unaware of the effect it might have had on him.

“I need to see how you play,” he had said as you dropped your bag on the side of the court. You smiled and nodded, and took to the opposite side of the net.

He beat you embarrassingly easily the first set. Sweat was beading on your forehead as you met him at the benches between courts and guzzled down water. When you finally came up for air, a little trail of water went from your plush bottom lip and down your chin.

He watched you lick the moisture from your lips, then wipe at the rest with the back of your hand. He swallowed hard.

“Do you want my advice?” He scratched at the back of his neck as you peered up at him expectantly. “You need to loosen up, you’re too tense.”

Your eyes widened at his direction, but you nodded. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Donaldson.” You drank down another gulp, then jogged back to the other side of the court, eager to please.

He watched you bend over, retrieving a couple of balls that you’d hit into the net, flashing tiny white spandex beneath your tennis skirt.

Jesus Christ, Tashi was evil.

By the afternoon, sweat dripped down your arms, along the line of your throat, dampened the baby hairs framing your face and the back of your neck, tacking them down to sticky skin.

“Why don’t we head to the locker rooms inside, then we can meet upstairs and go through a training plan.”

You smiled, looking so sweet and eager. “Okay.”

He was grateful for the shower— molten against aching, underused muscles. He hadn’t exactly just given up on everything after retiring, but his muscles weren’t being used the way they were used to— the constant strenuous training.

He closed his eyes, letting the spray hit his face and soak into his skin.

He heard a squeak and jumped, eyes flying open to the sight of you naked underneath one of the other shower heads, quickly adjusting the spray from ice cold to steaming hot.

“Turned it to cold on accident,” you said over your shoulder. “Women’s locker rooms are under maintenance. You don’t mind, right?”

He turned, cheeks burning pink as he tried his best to play it cool— act like he wasn’t checking you out. “No, uh, it’s fine.”

Were you in on it with Tashi? It certainly felt like it as he watched you lathering your body up with soap, maybe focusing too much attention to your tits.

You glanced over, caught him looking, and smiled. He turned away quickly with his pulse thrumming in his throat.

Fuck. He was already hard. It wasn’t exactly a surprise— he’d been half-hard just at the sight of you in that fucking outfit on the court.

He heard you laugh and looked back at you. You were looking right at him, amusement evident in your expression. “She said you’d be easy, but, Jesus, I thought you’d put up more of a fight.” 

You shut off the water of your shower and made your way over. Water dripped from your body, rolling down your skin in delicate rivulets. You stopped in front of him and ran a hand down his chest, making him shiver.

“Tashi told you?” His words trailed off into a groan as your hands moved between his legs, stroking the length of him in your delicate grasp.

“She told me to say thank you after every lesson,” you said. With each step forward you made, he took a step back, until you had him pinned against the cold tile. He moaned as your thumb ran over the tip of his cock, and you smile sweetly. “She showed me exactly how I should do it.”

“Showed you?”

You sped your hand up, twisting slightly with each tug upwards. “Mhmm. On Patrick. She went first, then I showed her what I learned.” You laughed softly, lips brushing along his jaw. “I’m a very fast learner. Patrick was very impressed.”

Fuck, he was going to get back at Tashi for not letting him be there for that. The mental image was enough to make his cock pulse in your grip. Maybe he’d just have you recreate it for him the second Tashi and Patrick came home.

Your lips brushed along the like of his jaw as you continued to jerk him off, your hand slick and tight and relentless. Just like Tashi’s would be. God, you really were a fast learner.

It would certainly make being your coach a lot easier.

“Art,” you hummed, breath hot against his ear. He nodded wordlessly, almost afraid that if he spoke, he’d wake up from a fugue state to find out that he’d just imagined it all and was mid-jerk off session.

Your lips moved against his throat, nipping gently at the expanse of soft skin. He tasted like sweat and tap water. Your words came out as a whisper, “You can fuck me now.”

He laughed shakily, flushed red down to his chest. “Now? You don’t want me to go down on you, or—“

He was cut off when you grabbed his hand and moved it between your legs. Dripping wet, silky soft, absolutely aching for him.

You moaned softly, leaning fully onto him for support as he rubbed at your clit. “T-Tashi—“ You stammered, losing that seductive bravado you’d walked in with. “Told me I should make you work for it. But, fuck—”

Art laughed softly. “You’re too needy.”

“Do you know how fucking sexy you sound when you play tennis?” You whined, breath going shaky as he pushed a finger inside of your aching cunt. “Halfway through the second set, I— god— I considered dropping the pretense and fucking you right on the— on the court.”

Tashi wouldn’t have that. When she came home, she’d clock that impatience train it out of you. She’d make you sit and watch, get so desperate you’d beg and cry for it. She had to do it to Patrick before— she would know just how to get you to the point she needed you at.

The tennis would be up to Art.

You were so wet, clenching around his finger, craving more. What the fuck would be the point in denying either of you any longer?

You whined when he moved his hand from you, but he wasn’t going to keep you waiting. He pinned you against the cold tile wall, lifting you up to where he needed. You smiled at him,wrapping your legs around his waist, coaxing him closer.

A shiver ran through you as his cock brushed over your folds— so close to where you needed him. His tip notched against your entrance and he pressed into you slowly, relishing in the way you held your breath, in the way your body opened up for him so eagerly.

He pressed his forehead against yours when he bottomed out, and you panted as you adjusted to him.

You were impatient. So fucking impatient. You rocked your hips against him, begging wordlessly for more. He leaned in, kissing you slowly.

“Art,” you gasped, pulling away from the kiss as he fucked into you, slow and deep. “Patrick told me that I should tell you that you’re supposed to fuck me, not make love to me.”

Of fucking course he did. “Is that what you want?”

You nodded, somehow looking so sweet split open on his cock. His hips met yours in a particularly harsh thrust and you cried out in surprise. You moaned so seeetly, your lips turned up in a smug grin. It was exactly what you wanted.

Your back slid against the slick tile wall as he drove into you again and again and again. Your cunt was so warm, and tight, and so fucking wet if squelched obscenely with each thrust.

Wet kisses were peppered along his jaw and throat along with soft murmured thank yous and praise.

“You’re so deep, Art,” you moaned into his ear. “Feels so good. Thank you, thank you.”

It had been a week since Tashi and Patrick were home. A week of having to find satisfaction with Patrick’s fucking lewd Snapchat videos and his hand.

And here you were— a sweet, tight, Tashi-approved plaything. Your manicured nails rubbing at your clit, your pussy clamping around his cock as you drew closer and closer to the edge.

What better foreplay was there than tennis?

You came first, which was a fucking Godsend. He had no doubt Tashi would’ve flayed him if she found out that he couldn’t even manage to get his new toy off before he did. Loud— not caring if anyone heard.

Tashi would train that out of you too, lest you get them banned from every fucking country club in the state. Or a TMZ article whispering about a tawdry affair.

He shut you up with a hungry, searing kiss. Tongue moving against yours, muffling your cries. He came buried as deep as he could possibly get, with his tongue shoved down your throat and his grip bruising your soft thighs.

The water had gone icy when you both detached from each other, finally taking the actual shower you needed. You happily shared a shower head since you’d wasted enough water as is.

You redressed, tied up your wet hair, and sat on a bench, tapping away at your phone while he did his best to look presentable, and not like he’d just fucked the athlete he was supposed to be coaching.

“Tashi and Patrick say hi,” you said casually, offering a killer smile.

Maybe retirement wasn’t that bad.

NEED to be the toxic triplets’ little plaything im clawing at the padded walls of my enclosure

Anywayssss feel free to send more blurb reqs 🩷

[finsplurtz]

hello! may I request a subbot afab hawks x domtop amab reader?

idk what trope to pick bc I have so many ideas, but if you're comfortable with it, could it be a sugarbaby x sugardaddy reader AU? maybe with some praise and breeding?

feel free to ignore lol (love your fics btw <3)

— GUYS NEWSFLASH first time writing ftm character hahaha erm i hope i didn’t fuck this up😢😢🙏🙏 (i lvoe dis requets)

something more — keigo.takami

— dom ! male.reader x ftm ! sub ! Keigo Takami

— contents : afab ! Hawks , use of pussy cunt clit and stuff…. Sugardaddy reader , tooo much yap , hawks falls in love with u… er praising , a bit of breeding kink , u might get him pregnant actually…, :( ending..

warnings : love NOT reciprocated sowwy

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Hawks waved flirtatiously at a guy walking by to try and get his attention, he scoffed after the guy payed no mind to him. He got a cigarette out and patted himself to try and find his lighter..where could it have gone…

he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see .. you. Took him a bit but he apologized and took the lighter from your hands.

“thank you..! uh where was it..?” he nervously, struggling to light his cigarette up.

“you left it behind at the bar.” you took the lighter and lit it for the blonde.

“ah..thank you..” he smiled looking away.

“Ya know, you’re a pretty thing. I noticed you at the bar and was going to talk to you but I looked away for a second and the next, you were gone haha” you chuckled dipping your hands into your pockets.

“uh yeah sorry I was…I just needed to take in some fresh air” he seemed a bit more calmer than he was a second ago- he couldn’t get anyone else to pay his drink. that’s why he left the bar.

“mhh. well. I was wondering if maybe I could spend a night with you?” Hawks perked up and looked at you. You were….tall and handsome..you had a nice face…….

“sorry I don’t go around and—“

You held out 200$ to him, waiting for him to take it. “how ‘bout it?” you look at him and smirk.

one night..couldn’t be bad plus, 200 dollars??

“alright then, mister.” He takes the money and smiles at you.

well that’s how you met keigo. after one night you proposed the idea of being his sugar daddy and since the sex wasn’t bad at all, and you paid good money, there was no harm!

overtime you guys became very fond of each other, you weren’t just some cash pig to him, you were special. but to you…..he was sure he was just a fuck toy for you.

you weren’t that old, you had great looks so- why haven’t you gotten a wife? or husband?? a great business guy like you would’ve had someone special by his side by now.

“hey yn…would you ever want to start a family at some point?” Hawks asked. He was sat on your large couch in small shorts and a loose top.

you looked at him and flashed him a smile. “someday, but not now” you were working on your laptop, you kept typing away.

“hmm…” he stood up and walked over to where you were and sat next to you, cuddling your arm.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he hid his smile at the pet name. he shook his head and you chuckled.

the way you treated him was as if he were your special person, you always took care of him. his place wasn’t so safe and it quite frankly- disgusted you… so you insisted he moved in with you. you always paid for him, got him what he wanted, in return he’d let you use him in bed for however long you wanted to.

not only that, but aftercare was amazing. you treated him like if he were made of glass, gentle with him when you bathed him, gentle kisses every now and then. he fought the urge everyday to tell you he loved you because he knew this wasn’t that kind of relationship.

but he started to fall for you. badly. at one point he didn’t really want your money anymore, he just wanted to be there for you and for you to be there for him.

it was about to be a year since you guys started this…thing you guys had going on and he decided to be straight up with his feelings, just tell you. That anniversary or whatever, you took him out to eat like any other day and got him a couple gifts, he was extremely happy and confident things would go well. He was hoping that maybe you guys could be something more than.. this. I mean you already act like a couple! There’s no way he could be wrong..

you guys got back home drunk as hell, laughing and shoving each other around. There was absolutely no fucking way you didn’t like this guy….then again you could just be the devil in disguise

your hands roamed his smaller body while you kissed and fought for dominance. He was losing himself in the pleasure, he had to tell you he just had to..

“uh- yn wait I…need to..” you kissed his neck and sucked on it, he moaned under you and grabbed at your hair. he pulled you off and you looked at him confused.

“I just need to…t..tell…” his words started to get stuck in his throat, nothing was coming out why couldn’t he just spill it out.

“you’re so cute Kei, baby…” you sat up and removed his pants as he squirmed, propped his legs on your shoulder and kissed the inside of his thighs.

“ahh..yn p..please let mhh..~” his back arched at the feeling of your mouth on his cunt. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system that made this all the more enjoyable, but he figured he’d tell you after you guys were done.

he pushed his hair back and gasped when you slid your fingers into his loose hole, all while lapping at his clit. He was crumbling underneath you, his hands pulling harshly on your hair as he squirmed and moaned at the pleasure.

“F-fuck! I’ll c..com..~” he bit his bottom lip, his lower half twitched as he came intensely, His hands letting go of your hair.

You sat up and prodded your cock at his entrance, teasing it over his sensitive clit making him flinch.

“w…wait…no condo-..mm…?” He looked so out of it and cute covering his cunt with his hand.

“what…don’t want my babies…?” you coo gently taking his hand off and leaning down into his ear.

“we’d make the cutest babies..” you harshly grab his hips and slam into him earning a scream from the younger male. He shouldn’t have found that as hot as he did, he’s holding onto you and biting your shoulder as you violate his stupid cunt.

He’s asking you to slow down as best as he can but you ignore him and continue to chase your orgasm. You almost completely stop when he whispers into your ear, an ‘I love you’.

It sounded desperate and whiny, you sit back up, not looking at his face. You look down at your dick, engulfed in the blondes pussy, you push his legs closer to his face and grab his hands, placing them on the back of his knees.

He hold them tightly, so many thoughts running through his little head.

Did you ignore him just now?

Your big hands spread his cunt and you slowly push all the way in, a stretched out whimper leaving Kei.

“Soo pretty, hon….aren’t you such a good boy for me..” you smirk to yourself, your thumb rubbing his clit gently. You grab his legs and move them aside to finally look at his face again.

His face was red and sweaty, tears running down his sad face, droll peaking out of his mouth.

“You’d do anything I asked…wouldn’t you, dear..?” You caressed his face, wiping his dumb tears away. He just stared into your lustful eyes before slowly nodding and smiling.

“Thats right, baby. Your pretty self belongs to me.” You tilt his head and begin to mark his neck as you continued to fuck into his twitching pussy.

He’s losing himself, those dumb thoughts about you not loving him still lurked in his mind. Of course you love him! You love him so much that you want to start a family with him, take care of whatever he needs for the rest of his life. He loves you more.

He’s all smiles and giggles that he doesn’t realize that he agreed to letting you finish inside him, till he feels your hot semen shoot inside of him.

His smile slowly falls, his heartbeat speeding up.

“…y…yn…?” You sit up and pull out, grinning at how your cum spills out of keigo’s cute pussy.

“what? take some pills, dear. You’ll be fine.” You kiss his forehead ignoring the tears that fell from him as he touches his tummy.

“what was it that you wanted to tell me? I’ve got something I wanna say to” you smile and lay down next to his smaller figure, he’s staring at the ceiling, you keep looking at his side profile waiting for him to answer.

“I….don’t have anything to say…” he says tiredly. He finally looks at you waiting for what you were gonna say.

“Hm..i met someone who could join us next time. He’s real cute I think you guys could really get along! Don’t worry though, kei. You’re still my favorite baby…” you smile, exhausted, you kiss the blonde one more time before pulling him into a hug.

“….what…?”

a/n; you guys rlly like hawks y’all are FREAKS (i love him more)

[evilgwrl]

okay ngl, this is an ask I'm sending to multiple people because holy shit why did it pop in my head I need to see this written T^T

reader is part of !141 and is the only one who knows how to ride a motorbike, so she has to go undercover for a biker gang?? idk but just hear me out. Anyway she has no tattoos or piercings so they get her those temporary tattoos that last two weeks and some fake piercings (or real ones in case they fall off) and so none of the 141 know she's having this whole makeover, and when they get the big reveal I just want to know their reactions- I'm sorry I suck at writing, I'm just good at coming up with the ideas lmao. reading back my whole paragraph I realised how much I truly suck at typing, I apologise that you had to deal with this.

Ahhhh!!! I love this. I hope I did your idea justice and you enjoy it anon 🥹 If you want something a lil more racy let me know but I kept it SFW just incase

CW: None

Your body felt exhausted, thighs moulded to the chair as manicured hands rushed around your frame, prodding at your skin with brushes and wet rags, stamping your flesh with intricate designs. The woman’s voice was soft as she took in your expression, an understanding smile adorning her features as she assured you, they were nearly done.

“Voila,” she gasped, moving away from you as you stared at the mirror in front of you. Temporary tattoos snaked around the coil of your arms, muscles stamped with infamous gang signs and your nose and eyebrows dangling with metal jewellery as your fingers prodded at them, your face creased with slight discomfort.

“We’re going to need to get you dressed but you already look the part!”

You winced at the excitement in her voice, a slight simmer of humiliation broiling through you as you took in the look. You looked so… different. “Thank you,” you murmured, turning around to take in the large snake design that was entwined between your spine.

You felt like you were entering a pageant, constant hands smoothing out your skin and hair as you coughed at the lethal amount of hairspray. Grease dribbled down your chin as you choked down some food, disgusted huffs passing through the lady’s mouth as she ushered something about acting the part too.

“You’re all done, sergeant.”

You paced the room anxiously, wire taped to your chest, nestled in between your cleavage as you awaited the remainder of the task force. It was strange, the most they had ever seen you in was a pair of jeans and a simple top beside your military gear, the barracks were no place for fashion. Sweaty hands rubbed at the leather pants; slick stains of residue quickly brushed away nervously as you prodded with the facial piercings in the mirror.

“Hells feckin’ bells, Bonnie,” a swift voice whistled, Soap’s face charmed with a boyish grin, blue eyes sweeping across your exposed skin, “ain’ you a sight for sore eyes?”

“I look ridiculous,” you blurted, folding your arms self-consciously as the Scotsman tsked his tongue, smacking his lips together.

“Ye’ look good… lil too good for the task force, hen. Might need to find ye a new profession after this.”

You rolled his eyes at his playful tone, his lashes flickering as he took in the sight of you. A flirtatious whistle cut through the air as Gaz slapped his hand against the door, mouth wide. “Sergeant Y/N, that you under all those tattoos?” You bit back a bark as he smiled at you, tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips.

“You look good, [callsign]. Them bikers might wanna keep you to themselves.”

“We ain’ gonna let that happen, lass,” Soap jabbered, “Yer’ our girl, ain’ ya?”

Your reply was cut short by a pound against the door as a gruff voice snapped, “Oi, let’s move it. Don’t got all bloody day, Sergeants.”

Ghost’s eyes lingered over you for a moment, blonde lashes flicking up and down your body, pausing on every tattoo almost as if he was memorising them before he turned around, cold physique dusting through the hallway as you all followed. Captain Price was rambling through his headset to Laswell before he paused, dismissing himself as you all waltzed towards him.

A large Yamaha was sleeked against the exit, the tyres slightly worn to feign usage as you whistled lowly. “Got this all for me, Cap?” Your tone was sharp, admiring the ride before you as a tattooed hand wrapped around the leather handles.

“A biker looking like you ain’ gonna ride a shitbox,” he said, his voice holding an underlying meaning as he did a once over, “Y’ get in trouble in there and you call us in immediately, you understand [callsign]?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take care of those tattoos after this as well, suit ya.”

A warm blush settled on the apple of your cheeks before you reached for the helmet, flattening your hair down as you secured it in place.

“Let’s get us a win.”

[dotster001]

Can I request overblot crew + malmal (idk if he's gonna be the one who does it so) w a mc who has the uncontrollable impulse to just. Touch things they deem pretty/cute/whatever? Like malmals horns, leonas ears and tail, idias hair, jamils little coin things in his hair, vils crown, etc?

Or funnier, things they're supposed to not touch bc common sense? Like the boiling hot liquid in the alchemy cauldron, the fireplace, broken glass, basically anything someone would have to rip their hands away from lol

A/N: I did a mix of things. As someone who wants to put dungeons and dragons dice right into my mouth, I had a lot of fun with this one 😂 I want to put my hands in jamil and Azul's hair so bad 😭

CW: injury in Azul and Idia's parts, self inflicted, cause obviously 😂

3k follower masterlist

No one was allowed to touch the roses. Well, no one but you. You like to run your fingers on the petals, tracing any visible veins, touching paint spots, and booping him on the nose if the rose hasn't dried yet.

So sweet, so soft, so innocent. He only wished that…

"Fuck!"

No matter how many times he reminded you not to, you always poked the thorns.

"Y/N," he said sternly, "the entire point of thorns on roses is that they hurt.  They are intended to protect the rose!"

"But if not for touch, why touch shaped?" You pouted.

"Sorry?"

You sighed, and stared at the rose with a sharp glare, before turning back to him with a mischievous grin. 

"If I can't play with the roses, can I play with your scepter staff thing?"

He should have known. You'd been asking to "play with it" for weeks now. And every time he'd clutched it tighter, and taken a step back. He loved you! But he didn't trust whatever it was you wanted to do with his staff.

"Please, my rose?" You gently traced the collar of his dorm uniform, pressing your free hand to his chest and  giving him the sweetest puppy dog eyes.

He sighed, and placed his scepter in your hand, and was given immediate whiplash as you started swinging it through the air like a baseball bat.

"What are you doing?!?"

"Fighting crime!"

He felt a ticklish feeling in his half awake state. Assuming it was a fly of some sort, he flicked his ears, and attempted to drift back off. But the ticklish feeling was insistent. He opened one eye to see you scratching his ears. He groaned. He should have known. This was a common occurrence.

"Oy, Herbivore!"

Your eyes widened, and flickered to his.

"Oh! You're awake!"

"Yeah, cause there's a fly buzzing by my ear."

You looked down at your hands then pulled them away.

"Oh, sorry."

You reached out to fiddle with one of his braids, your fingers doing what he could only describe as kneading the plaits.

He gripped your wrist, and pulled you down to his level, pressing you into his chest.

"If you're gonna mess with my hair, then, quid pro quo, you should expect there to be a price."

You nuzzled into his chest and nodded, your hand snaking back into his hair as he drifted off to your gentle fingers.

This was exactly why he had the Leech twins watch you. You always complained you didn't need a babysitter, but when left to your own devices…

"As your partner, I shouldn't have to sign a contract or pay a price for a healing potion!" You cried, clutching your burnt hand.

What had you done?

You'd touched a stove seconds after the burner was turned off.

Call it stupid curiosity.

"If there's no price, how can I ensure you won't keep making these decisions!" Azul cried, finishing the final touches of the contract he was writing.

"Decision implies I thought about it. I can't stress enough that there was no thought involved."

He glared at you, before pushing the contract over to you.

"Sign it, and I'll fix your hand."

"My hand hurts too much," you whined.

"Your non-dominant hand is the one you burned. Sign it."

You looked at the fine print before grimacing.

"This says I can't touch anything if it's an impulse touch. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"That means I can't just touch your hair anymore? I can't just come up and kiss you anymore?"

Azul groaned a massaged his temples. 

"This is a punishment. You get those privileges back in two weeks. Sign the damn contract."

You intended to glare at him, but a wave of pain hit your hand and you quickly signed it in shaky script.

"There," he pulled out a potion and gently took your hand. "Hopefully you learn something."

"I probably won't," you muttered bitterly.

"I know," he lamented.

His heart couldn't handle it. Even asking you out had nearly sent him into the recesses of his hood for eternity. 

But ever since then, whenever you got the chance, your hands were in his hair. Usually playing with the gold medallions in his hair. But if he happened to have worn his hair down that day….oh sevens.

You'd somehow snuck up on him, and snuck your way into his lap, cupping his face and running your hands through his hair.

You were technically looking at his face, but he knew you weren't actually seeing him. You were seeing his hair.

"Y/N," he muttered, feeling his face burn, "I have to finish this homework."

"Mhmm," you muttered, as dazed as if he'd charmed you.

"Y/N!" He whines, unable to stop himself from leaning into your touch, just a little.

"Mhmm," you hummed, before unexpectedly pressing his face to your chest to allow yourself more space to play with his long hair.

He thought about speaking up. But you couldn't see his increasingly flustered expression with his face pressed to your chest. And you were warm and comforting. And your hands in his hair didn't feel too bad. Maybe he could indulge. Just for a moment.

Crash

Vil groaned, and left the bathroom he'd been doing his makeup in, watching you stare at a shattered bottle. Was it potion, perfume, or lotion? Even you probably didn't know. You just saw a shiny, pretty bottle, and had to touch.

"I'll pay for it!" You shouted, eyes wide with fear.

He sighed, flicked his pen at the broom he'd bought not long after dating you, and watched as it magically swept up the pink shards and goop on the floor.

He then half heartedly glared at you, lazily pointing his pen in your direction.

"Don't touch another one."

You aggressively nodded, and he returned to the bathroom to finish his look.

Ten minutes later, he heard it.

Crash

He covered his mouth to hide his quiet laughter. He truly couldn't leave you alone for ten minutes. It was endearing truly. He heard the broom fall as you, he assumed, hastily moved to sweep it up, and he couldn't hold back anymore, allowing himself to release a full, joyous laugh.

"Hold that," Idia said excitedly as he passed you the scissors he'd just been using. His new game system was here! And he'd bundled it so that it came with Star Rogue 2, which had only just come out! 

He slowly pulled it out of the box, holding his breath from excitement, and,

"Fuck!" 

He turned to look at you, and your thumb was in your mouth.

"What's wrong?" 

You pulled your thumb out, showing a cut on the finger pad. 

"Ortho!" Idia called in a panic, holding your hand and staring at the cut. In his panic, he stuck your thumb in his own mouth.

"Ew, Idia," you said, face full of disgust at your boyfriend's spit on your hand.

Ortho came over before he could respond, and pulled your hand from Idia's mouth. He immediately got to work on the cut, seeming to have been aware of the problem immediately.

"How did you do this?" Idia asked, rocking back and forth to get rid of his nervous energy.

You looked up at Ortho, then back at Idia, then back to Ortho.

"I'm embarrassed to say it when Ortho is here. He'll just give me a speech."

"I only give speeches when you need them!" Ortho said defensively.

"Which is everytime," you muttered bitterly.

"Y/N, please, I'm scared. Tell me what happened!" Idia cried, beginning to pace as Ortho wrapped a bandage around your thumb.

You stared at the floor. "Well, you handed me the scissors, and I was curious how sharp they are, so…"

Idia groaned, and Ortho immediately began his speech about scissors.

Malleus knew he was tall, especially compared to humans. So he'd never thought much about how insistently stared up at him, eyes full of expectation.

It wasn't until he watched your cat creature's eyes do the same thing as he tied a shoelace, one day, that he realized that you wanted something. And it wasn't hard to figure out what it was.

"Are you looking at my horns? If you're so curious, you can touch them freely. But only if you are ready to see what will happen afterwards."

Little did he know that he had stumbled upon a rare breed of human, one that was unafraid of him, but to an unrealistic extent.

It was visible today, while you were on a walk together, and then you stopped walking. He paused to look back at you, but it was too late. You were climbing his body like a koala, all to reach his horns.

"If you simply asked me, I would let you touch them."

"So shiny! Must touch!"

He laughed lightly as you reached his horns, and heard you attempt to knock against them. They didn't have feeling, but he could guess from previous times this had happened that you were poking the points with a finger and running your hands up and down them.

He felt a pull on his head as your lower half lost its grip, and you helplessly dangled while holding his horns.

"Oh, my silly child of man," he laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" He flicked his pen and helped you float down, then turned to you. You were sitting in the grass and pouting.

"I wasn't done," you muttered.

He knelt in the grass with you, then lay his head on your lap, laughing again as you excitedly traced his horns, allowing himself to relax under your care.

[triptuckers]

on the bottom of the lake - percy jackson

Request: yes! "I love ur writing!! could you write something w Percy helping anxious reader?? I’ve been super stressed lately and idk this show is keeping me sane lmao" Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  you've been stressed and percy knows the perfect way to help you relax Warnings:  reader being stressed, some swearing, anxiety Word count:  917 A/N: I drew so many pjo characters yesterday I cant wait to share them when I'm done with them :) thanks for your request, enjoy!

you don't know if you've ever felt like this. sure, you'd been stressed before. but now you're losing sleep over it. and not a few hours, just nights without zero sleep at all.

you've got a big project you need to do for school over the summer. if you call, it'll be your last strike and you'd be expelled. like it was your fault you had trouble reading and concentrating.

when you arrived at camp half-blood at the start of summer, you thought some of your worries would go away.

the opposite happened.

you saw everyone around you having a good time. they didn't have to worry about some project. they slept peacefully from night til morning.

even if you can't work on your project, you're constantly thinking about it. your mind never rests.

percy noticed you've been stressed and tries to talk to you about it, but you always shut him down. it's enough to think about it all the time, let alone talk about it.

after a couple of days, percy tries again. he really wants to help you, but he don't know why.

'hey, y/n?' says percy.

'what's up?' you say, looking up at him. you're supposed to help your cabin prepare for tonight's bonfire, but so far you're not helping much.

'about your project-'

'gods, will you leave it alone, percy!' you burst out. 'I think about that fucking project all day don't you start about it as well!'

percy takes a step back and you realise it's because of you.

'I'm sorry! sorry!' you say, getting up and grabbing one of his hands. 'I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.'

you feel tears slowly starting to fall.

'hey, it's okay.' says percy softly. he reaches up and brushes a tear from your cheek. 'want to go to the lake for a while?'

you nod. percy leads you to the lake. you close your eyes and let the breeze calm you down. but still the project is on your mind. if you go to your cabin now, you could get some work done.

percy tugs on your hand and you open your eyes to look at him.

'get in.' he says, nodding his head toward the lake.

'now?'

percy nods.

'percy, I don't want to go swimming right now.'

'do you trust me?'

'of course.'

'then get in.'

you sigh. what did you have to lose? maybe a swim would be nice.

'let me get my bathing suit.' you say.

'nope.' says percy, pulling you by your hand as he jumps in the lake. before you can stop him, you're pulled forward by his momentum. seconds later, the water surrounds you.

you want to yell at him for getting your clothes soaked, but you remember you're under water. once you get your bearings, you open your eyes, letting them get accustomed to the water.

you try to swim to the surface, but percy still holds on to your hand and pulls you further down, all the way to the bottom of the lake.

good for him, he's a poseidon kid. you aren't. you can't breathe underwater. surely percy knows that right?

he lets go of you hands and swims to the bottom of the lake.

you're going to have to go up for air soon.

you can see percy sitting down on the ocean floor, gesturing at you to join him. you squint your eyes. it looks like the water is less murky down there.

you let yourself sink down to percy's level. the water is less murky here because there is no water here.

'I didn't know you could do this.' you say, looking around the air bubble you're in.

'pretty cool, right?' says percy, smiling proudly.

'why are we here?'

'I mostly come here when I need to be alone. if you sit here in silence for a while, the fish will come up to you. and I always thought the waves are soothing to look at from down here.'

you look up and watch the waves for a while. sunlight pours through the water, giving it a soft glow.

you move closer to percy and rest your head on his shoulder.

the two of you sit there for a while. and percy was right. after some time, fish start to swim around your bubble.

percy tells you about the lake and the animals and after a while even two water nymphs come to say hello. percy knows them and introduces you to them.

you sit there for so long you lose track of time. it's getting late, so you decide to swim up to the surface.

normally you would have been soaked, but thanks to percy you're warm and dry.

you stifle a yawn as percy takes your hand in his and starts walking towards the cabins.

'thank you, that was nice.' you say.

'one of the bonuses of dating a poseidon kid.' says percy, lightly squeezing your hand.

he notices you hadn't talked about your project at all when you were in the lake. and you look genuinely tired. he hopes you can get at least one good nights sleep tonight.

'want to stay at my cabin tonight?' he says.

you smile and nod. 'yeah I'd like that.'

the two of you head to percy's cabin to get some sleep. and percy had been right, you got a good night of uninterrupted sleep. you dreamt of nothing but the comfort of the lake, and percy's presence next to you.

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[lilrainbowcloud]

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Genre: Fluff, College AU

Word count: 521 || masterlist

Warning: ooc percy but idk man let me write whatever

[12:05]

Scrolling through your phone as you ate lunch peacefully at a table alone in the cafeteria, your moment of silence was disturbed by a certain someone crashing on the seat in front of you. Startled by the sight of your best friend throwing himself on the table, you almost choked on your lunch but rolled your eyes instead at his loud sigh.

Crossing his arms on the table, Percy rested his head on them with another loud sigh. You being so accustomed to his behaviour ignored him and continued to eat your lunch like normal.

"I'm not ok and don't ask me why I'm not ok."

His voice was muffled by the navy blue sweatshirt he was wearing, head still down. Glancing once at him, you held in your smile because that was exactly the opposite of what he wanted but you chose to pretend that you didn't mind him to see how long until he can hold it in.

"Why aren't you asking why?"

After a few moments of silence, Percy lifted his head from his arms and looked at you with disappointment in his features. See? The opposite.

"Because you said not to ask?"

Trying to keep your uninterested face, you bit your tongue to keep the smile in which made his pout more prominent and with both hands he slapped the table so loud you cringed. God now you can feel the paranoia of people's eyes on you and your back was towards everyone else. Why is he like this?

"When I say don't ask me means that you need to ask me so I can dramatically tell you what's happening!"

Your jaw dropped in disbelief when he half raised his voice. Did he not notice you're in a cafeteria full of college students? You felt embarrassed and annoyed by him but hey he's always been like this to you.

"Okay okay! Please don't be so loud. What's wrong?"

"Urgh so glad you asked," Rolling his eyes dramatically, Percy leaned over the table close to you, "Okay so I was in line at the cafe just now because they were having a sale and then when I got to the counter to order suddenly they said that they ran out of the blueberry scones!" Percy threw his hands in the air to further express his disbelief and scoffed.

" So now I'm hungry and disappointed and I want to ask you if you could come with me to get lunch outside campus," Putting his hands together, he gave you his pleading face and begged. The whole time you were chewing your food slowly watching in amusement at his whining.

" Please, [Y/N]. You don't want to see your best friend die from hunger right? "

Taking a sip of your drink, you started to clean up the table, "Fine fine stop that and I'll go with you."

"Thank you so so so much [Y/N]!" Jumping onto his feed, Percy reached across to the seat beside you and took your bag, face lighting up with excitement like an impatient child.

"Let's go! I don't want to miss my next class!"

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi! Absolutely love your writing :) Would you be willing to do a enemies to lovers but with hero x villain? Maybe with like a controlling villain and the hero secretly likes it but is defiant externally? Sorry idk if that made sense lol

Thank you in advance though if you're able to!

"You can't just keep crashing my dates."

The villain glanced over their shoulder, raising an eyebrow in a mimicry of an emotion that didn't quite reach their eyes. "No?"

"No." The hero stalked closer, stopping in front of the villain, in time for them to turn. "I'm not yours."

"No?"

"No!" The hero's heart gave a little skip, at the possibility that the villain would then look at them and then say (in a growl, or devastatingly matter-of-fact, or in a teasing purr) 'yes, you are' or 'you're most certainly mine'. The villain had done it before.

The villain tilted their head, offering the hero one of the two glasses of wine they had just poured.

The hero took it, anticipating.

The villain didn't say anything, simply watching them as they took a steady sip.

The hero's face burned but they refused, stubbornly, to look away.

The villain set their glass down on the counter behind them. No rush.

The hero imagined the villain grabbing them, kissing them, as they had done before too. Twirling them, glass flying and wine sloshing, and pressing them up against the nearest flat surface. They would change every no to yes and please and more.

They both knew the routine, the dance of it. It didn't need saying.

"Your dates look increasingly like me," the villain murmured. "Have you noticed?" Their hands stayed, agonisingly, at their sides, as they leaned lazy against the counter.

The hero blinked, not expecting the comment. They took a sip of the wine instead of replying, hoping that perhaps an equally steady silence might come across as cool and mysterious instead of flabbergasted.

The villain smiled. "Say please."

"W-what?"

"Say please if you want me to screw your pretty brains out until you can't think straight."

The hero spluttered. "That's not - I'm not - that's not why I'm here." They undoubtedly would say please, but it had never been so close to the start, so when there wasn't any excuse they could possibly give for the desperate needing of it.

"No?"

"No." The hero swallowed.

"So you don't go on your little dates just to wind me up?" The villain finally straightened, taking a step closer.

The hero stepped back, but didn't run, didn't want to. Mesmerised. Their mouth felt very dry. "No." Such a lie.

The villain's smile grew. "You don't secretly wish I'd kiss you, claim you, in front of all of them?"

"No." The hero jutted their chin up. "I'm not a thing to be claimed."

The villain advanced; the hero back-tracked.

"You don't," the villain continued, a honeyed murmur, "say no, because you love all the ways I can persuade you. Because then you can pretend you don't want this. Because you like watching me take control of you."

The hero's back hit the wall. Miraculously, the wine didn't spill, still clutched uselessly in one hand.

"No."

"Mm." The villain set their palms on either side of the hero's shoulders, and the hero felt the very air between them might start vibrating with the urge to close the gap. "Perhaps I'll never crash one of your dates again then."

The thought was unbearable. The villain was bluffing, right? They had to be bluffing.

The hero wet their lips. The villain's gaze dropped to follow the movement, then flicked back up to the hero's eyes.

"You're a bastard," the hero whispered, because it was true and it wasn't no.

"Why yes," the villain's eyes gleamed, "I am." They waited.

The hero's stomach squirmed. "Are you actually going to make me say it?"

"I thought I didn't control you. I thought you weren't mine."

The hero shivered.

"So how could I," the villain leaned in to the hero's ear, still not quite touching, "possibly make you do anything?"

"...please."

"What was that, love?"

"I hate you."

"Do you?" The villain's lips finally pressed against their skin, kissing down their neck.

"Yes. So much." The hero's head fell back, offering more of their throat. The wine glass drooped in their hand.

"Don't spill on my floor."

The wine glass righted with titan concentration. There was nowhere to put it down.

The villain kissed them; soft, so soft, a promise of so much more to come.

"Would you like me to stop?" the villain asked against their lips.

"...no."

"No?"

"No."

The villain hummed and kissed them again, a little harder. The wine glass wobbled treacherously in the hero's hand once more. The hero's other hand clutched the villain's shoulder.

"I think we're done with the stage in our relationship where you pretend to date other people," the villain said, when they pulled back, breathless. They caught the hero's chin, and their stare was, for a moment, serious.

The hero scrambled past the kiss-drunk haze, brow furrowing. "It's actually bothering you?"

"No," the villain said, in the same tone that the hero said no, meaning yes.

"Okay." The hero leaned in to kiss them, just once, reassuring.

Tension eased out of the villain's shoulders. The wicked playfulness returned, and they shoved the hero back against the wall again. The next kiss was a consuming, hungry thing, and the hero could only chase after more than they were given, gasping.

The villain nipped the hero's neck, before giving a chiding click of their tongue. It once again sent an anticipatory shiver of delight down the hero's spine.

"Oh, would you look at that," the villain said, with soft and bewitching menace. "You spilled my wine. However shall I make you pay me back for that?"

"Make me?" The hero bit their lip. "You think you can make me do anything? Please."

The villain grinned.

There were no more dates with other people after that.

[barefoothighlander]

deluminate

summary: kylo ren stops at nothing to capture his target

kylo ren x fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), unprotected pinv, slight hunter/prey, force bondage, choking, dub con, mind reading?, creampie, idk how the force works, kidnapping?

a/n: having kylo ren brain rot so i needed to write this, i want to hear nothing about realism none of this makes sense, not proofread

Where are you.

His voice rings clear and heavy in your head, a tidal wave through the hazy ocean that was your mind, fogged and weary from his preferred methods of interrogation.

It was purely chance that you had gotten out, a fluke in timing on the account of the troopers that usually haunted your room, one small mixup in shift change and you were left unguarded for invaluable seconds.

You had no idea where you were going, simply letting your legs carry you on their own accord, twisting down hallways and turning the sharp corners of the black metal walls that made up the labyrinth of his ship.

It felt like weeks you had been locked in that room, the days fading into eachother as he searched your mind for any piece of information that could help him, reaching deep into your thoughts and fears, urging you to give up the location of the map.

Truth be told you were the last person he should’ve been asking, a minor ship technician that aided the rebellion with not the slightest inclination as to where the forces were keeping such a lucrative item.

I will find you.

The husk of his voice vibrates in you as fear sweeps your nerves, even if you did somehow outrun him, there was nowhere to go, you had no idea of the ship had landed somewhere or if it was simply tumbling through hyperspace, an eerie quiet settled in the air of the halls, only broken by the sudden hissing of pipes or clanging of armour as patrols made their way.

It didn’t make sense, how he was able to see into your mind, control your body the way he did, a simple twitch of his finger and your limbs were frozen, a nudge of his chin and he could see into your darkest thoughts, the most private and secret, held deep in your psyche for only you to see.

Why run? Come back to me and I’ll give you what you want.

A taunt, emphasized by the honey dripping from his tongue, even through the mask you can hear it. There was no trying to hide behind it, he saw right through you, that obscure primal attraction you held for him, the longing to see him beneath the cloak and mask, to feel that power on other parts of your body.

He was using it against you, like somehow he course sense the throb between your legs as his voice spoke to you, the heat that pooled as he used only his mind to restrain your body.

Sweat beaded your skin, falling in drops down your spine as you rest against a wall, legs screaming in pain, how far had you ran? There was no way to tell if you’d even gotten far, every hallway turning into another, every corner identical.

The conversation of troopers has you holding your breath, careful to keep quiet as they pass by, praying to the maker they were truly as stupid as people made them out to be.

You’re near, I can feel you.

Clasping your hand over your mouth and breathing through your nose, you turn a quick glance around the corner, no sight of the massive cloaked figure, there was no way he knew where you were, he couldn’t.

Down the hall you can see a pair of doors, if you could get in you could lock them, you’d worked on ships similar, nothing this large and nothing from the new empire but they had to have similar wiring.

You will your aching limbs to carry you the few feet toward them, slamming a palm to the panel, a whimper escaping your lips as the screen flashes red.

You drive your fist against the metal doors, willing them to open, to let you in but they don’t budge, a deferred breath falls as you rest your head against it, the cold bite of them cooling your skin.

It’s a gasp of shock that falls from your lips as the doors part, cool air rushing against your skin, how did they-

“There you are pet”

Fear strikes through your body like lightning, this time his voice sounded to close, the crackle of the mask like sparks in your ears. His presence is heavy enough that it sucks the air from your chest, a tear falling from your eye as you slump your shoulders, refusing to turn and face him.

He places a firm hand to your back, walking you forward into the room as the doors close behind you, the tell tale sound of a lock snapping into place as your legs give out, knees buckling sending you toward the hard ground.

You can hear the echo of his steps as he paces the room, damn him if he wanted to read your mind, there were no thoughts to be seen.

“It was a good effort”

Invisible arms will your body up, weak legs trying to regain balance as he emerges in front of you, dwarfing your figure.

His form sucks the life from the room, forcing you backward till your spine connects with the wall, harsh steel biting into your skin as he braces an arm beside your head.

“Are you ready to give me up?”

You shake your head, eyes refusing to look up at him,

“You know I can take whatever I want”

His gloved hand presses to your throat, holding you to the wall as an unseen force binds your hands above your head, leaving you at his will.

“Is this not what you wanted? I’ve heard every thought you’ve had, they’re very loud”

You squeeze your eyes shut at the words, your throat bobbing under his grip.

“I’ve seen what you dream of, how you want to be touched by me, it’s.. obscene, the way you offer yourself up on a platter”

There’s nothing you can do, he has you at his will, a simple prayer to the maker that he’d atleast bestow some form of mercy upon you.

“Do you want to see what I think about?”

His voice is gruff, laced with threat as his fingers squeeze your pulse point.

“Open your eyes”

You obey, parting your wet lashes to look at him, staring deep into the black visor as he watches you, you struggle in his grip as the force on your hands tightens.

He reaches his free hand to his neck, a hissing sound filling the air as the chin of the mask parts, the black helmet rising on his form to reveal his face.

Every sense in your body betrays you at the sight of him, obsidian hair that curls around his pale face, his cheeks flush from the exertion of power as plush lips and dark eyes stare back at you.

He closes his eyes, tilting his chin toward you as he wills his thoughts to yours, flooding your mind with images.

He too had thought about you, your naked body in front of him, legs parted and sex on display as you writhe against the sheets, the tip of his nose nudging against your swollen bud as he feasts on you.

The image sense shockwaves to your core, heat pooling as he continues to show you yourself, bent over a table, your ass arched in the air for him as his cock drives deep into you, practically forcing the air from your lungs with every thrust.

It’s too much, the visions, it feels too real, your skin flushing as he pulls back, his dark gaze glued to you.

“Do you see pet, what you do to me, why I could never let you run away”

He releases one of your hands, gripping your wrist as he drags it to his groin, forcing your digits to cup his length as he grunts. Even through the thick cloth of his pants you can feel his size, massive and pulsing, like pure iron in your weak grip.

You part your lips in shock as he grinds his hips into your palm, his hand on your throat tensing.

“Don’t shy away now, not when you’re so close to getting what you want”

Another grind of his hips has your fingers squeezing his bulge, a primal grin forming on his lips as he ducks his head next to yours.

“That’s it, give yourself over”

His breath ghosts over your ear, tingling the hair on your neck as his teeth dig into your earlobe, nipping at the skin.

His fingers creep over your stomach, inching down toward the pulse that’s settled between your thighs, strong hands tugging at your bottoms as the skin of your ass is revealed, the cool air hitting it.

He cups your sex with his palm, grinding the leather of his glove against your aching bud, cheeks heating as the sound of your slick fills the room.

“So wet for me already”

His words give rise to a tinge of embarrassment in your face as you roll your hips into his hand, searching for the contact against your clit as his cock strains against his pants.

“M’gonna drive my cock so deep into you, there won’t be any thoughts for me to read”

The threat has your core aching, clenching around nothing as he rips his hand from you, the black fabric of his gloves glistening in your slick as he raises a hand.

His free hand moves to loosen his pants, biting back a groan as his cock springs free from the fabric, keeping his eyes on yours as he fists it, the harsh rub of his glove rough against the skin of his shaft.

“Open your mouth”

You move to reach a hand for him but it’s pulls to the wall with that same invisible force, keeping you flat to the metal as it digs into your spine.

“I said open”

You obey, parting your lips slightly to allow his fingers to tease around the flesh, pushing past your teeth to flatten against your tongue.

Swirling the muscle around the digits, the bitter taste of leather mixed with the sweetness of your own slick dripping down your throat as he forces the fingers deeper.

He teases the head of his cock through your folds forcing your eyes shut as you hum around his fingers.

“You’re gonna take every last inch, and you’re gonna keep your eyes on me”

Parting your lids in a haze your teeth dig into his fingers as he pushes in, one swift motion has his cock stuffing you full, forcing your cunt to adapt to the stretch of him.

The angle has him dipping below you, forcing his cock upward as he thrusts, the head of it grinding against that sweet spot into you as it drags against your soaked walls.

“That’s it, eyes on me pet”

His fingers tilt your chin to face him, eyes clouded in lust as you watch him bite back his grunts. His hand grips at your thighs, tugging them around his waist as he lifts you higher against the wall, length driving into you, forcing your body to collide with the hard metal behind you with every thrust.

“Wanted this since I first saw you”

The words come through gritted teeth, your eyes drifting to where the two of you meet, his hand withdrawals from your mouth allowing you to suck in a breath before it makes contact with your throat, pinning your neck to the wall.

“I said eyes on me”

It’s a struggle to even keep them open as his cock splits you in half, feeling impossibly full from him, the base of his length grinding against your clot with every stroke.

Your legs lock around his back, holding him to you as you roll your hips into him, meeting every thrust. A grin plasters his face at the sight, using his hand to tear at your shirt, the lose fabric falling around you as your breasts are revealed, nipples peaked from the cold air.

Like a beast to its prey he eyes your form, bound and free for his taking, he leans down, his teeth closing around a nipple eliciting a yelp from you as he nips at the skin, flicking his tongue over it.

“So good for me, letting me take you however I want”

Heat rises in your chest, it was true, he could have you, the sight of him alone that first day had your thoughts betraying you, his form oozing power and command.

You snap from your thoughts as an unseen pressure hits your clit, rubbing against the bud in a perfect pressure that has your back arching against the wall, pushing your breasts further into him.

It’s obscene the noises the flood the room, the sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with the wracked moans that escape you, he peers down, his jaw slack at the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole with every thrust.

“Never gonna let you go pet, you’ll stay here with me, as my little play thing”

The words sting your chest, the thought of remaining captive to the man who could invade your very soul, but the feeling of his cock driving into you is too tempting, feels to good, the pleasure blooming from your core has you nodding”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, letting me stuff this little pussy everynight, getting used by me, fucking slut”

That invisible hand flicks against your clit as his cock drives deep into your walls, your legs tightening around him as your push squeezes him, keeping him inside you, letting your orgasm rip through your bones.

As your high lowers you open your eyes, straight to his gaze, his hair sticking to his forehead in a sheen of sweat as the slightest pink tints his cheeks, his cock sliding into your drenched walls.

In a second he slams his lips to yours, swallowing your moans as he pounds into you, hard enough that the grind of your back against the wall was sure to leave you sore.

His hand meets the flesh of your ass, squeezing the muscle with force as he holds your body to him, allowing his cock impossibly deep as he buries it inside you, his hips staggering with each thrust.

“Say you’re mine, fuck, say it”

He leans his head back, lowering it to your shoulder as his teeth dig into the flesh, tears pricking your eyes as your muscles scream.

“I’m yours”

The words trigger something in him, a growl from his chest vibrates against your skin as he spills inside you, the warmth spreading in your core as he moves his coco slowly inside you, shallow thrusts to force his cum deeper.

He holds your body to him, the force on your hands gone, allowing the now sleeping muscles to drop to his shoulders, your fingers splayed over the rough fabric of his cape as his breaths ghost over your skin.

“You’re mine”

The haze of it wares on you, your mind weakened from the combination of everything as your body fights to regain its strength, held up only by his body.

Slowly he pulls his cock from you, allowing his spend to drop down your thighs as his hands keep you still. His eyes glued to yours as he watches you wince from the loss of contact, a hand settling on your cheek, the leather dragging against the thin layer of sweat on the flesh.

He bites back the words in his throat as he closes his eyes, his fingers flexing against your skin as your mind goes blank.

You wake in a dark room, legs bare against the black sheets that have settled atop them, your chest covered only by the large cloth of a shirt, you can feel the soreness from earlier already settling into your body as you sit up, trying to look around.

There’s a stream of starts outside the large window, the only light in the room as you squint to see, it was some sort of bedroom, the furniture below you soft and cushioned, you were in a bed.

Turning to your left you can see the light shine on his pale skin, the expanse of his back visible, alongside the pink pines of scars the adorned it, his dark hair blending into the sheets as his body rised slightly with every breath.

You were in his bedroom, his private quarters, in his bed, shock hits you all at once, every nerve in your body telling you that you shouldn’t be there, but he had brought you there, changed your clothes as set you beside him in bed.

He had stripped off his cloak and leathers, tucked away the facade of Kylo Ren and went to bed, beside you.

Running a soft hand over the curve of his spine you feel him twitch, his breath remaining slow, he was still asleep, he didn’t look like that large beast that invaded your thoughts like this, he was softer, calmer.

The sheets are soft as you slip back below them, turning to your side to face him, watching his skin flow under the streaming stars as your eye slide grow heavier, drawing you back into sleep.

[dee-writes-anime]

YAHO FINALLY FOUND YOU IDK HOW BUT I LOST YOU AND BEEN SCROLLING FOR LIKE A GOOD 5 MINUTES TO FIND YOU,

ANYWAYSYSYSYSY

Megumi x reader argument angst to fluff, *dies* your writing too good I know you'll feed me good with this one

I Couldn't Handle it if You Left Me

FEATURING Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

SUMMARY He's just so overprotective

CONTENT WARNINGS angst to fluff, Megumi being scared to lose us :(, some shouting, descriptions of arguments, mentions of loss, grief

AUTHORS NOTE I've missed you, sweet anon! I hope I cooked with this one! Short and sweet just for you <3

The room felt suffocating, the tension between you and Megumi thick and almost tangible. You stood across from him, your chest tight with the weight of words that had been building for far too long. Megumi’s face was as unreadable as ever, his expression cold and distant, but his eyes—they gave him away. They always did. Behind the calm façade, there was a storm raging, and you could feel it.

“Why do you always push me away?” The tremble in your voice betrayed how deeply this hurt, how much you needed him to answer. You tried to keep your tone steady, but the frustration and pain spilled over, raw and undeniable. “I’m not some helpless person you need to protect. I’m right here with you, Megumi. I can fight too.”

His jaw clenched tightly, and you saw his hand curl into a fist at his side, the tension radiating through him. “It’s not about what you can do,” he replied, his voice cold and measured, as if he was trying to rein in his own emotions. “It’s about what’s safer. For you.”

“Safer?” You let out a bitter, disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. “Do you even hear yourself? I’ve been fighting right alongside you for months, Megumi. I’ve trained. I’ve bled. What makes you think I can’t handle this?”

He remained silent, but his body language screamed with tension, his eyes flickering with something he wouldn’t say aloud. It was always like this. Every time you were involved in a mission, Megumi tried to shield you, to protect you from the worst of it, and while you understood his concern, it made you feel small. Useless. Like you were just another burden he had to carry.

Finally, his control cracked, and his voice, sharp with frustration, lashed out. “It’s not the same,” he snapped, the anger slipping through the cracks in his calm. “I don’t want you involved in this mess, alright? You don’t understand what could happen—what could happen to you.”

“Stop treating me like a child!” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, your own anger boiling over. “I’m not fragile! You keep telling me I don’t understand, but how can I when you never talk to me? When you keep locking me out of your life, pushing me away like I don’t matter.”

His face twisted, something dark flashing in his eyes. “I’m trying to keep you alive!” he shouted, the volume of his voice shocking in the small space, as if the weight of his fear had finally burst through. “Do you know what it’s like to see the people you care about get hurt? Do you know how many people I’ve lost? I can’t—” He cut himself off, his breath coming out in shallow, angry bursts. “I can’t lose you too.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and suddenly the pieces fell into place. The way he always hovered just a little too close when you were on a mission. The way he stepped in when he didn’t need to, putting himself in danger just to make sure you didn’t have to fight alone. It was suffocating, the way he kept trying to protect you, as if you weren’t capable of standing on your own.

“I get that you’re scared, Megumi,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less firm. “I know what you’ve been through. I know you’ve lost people. But I’m not them. I’m here. I’ve been here, and I’m not going anywhere. But if you keep trying to control everything, if you keep shutting me out, you’re going to lose me anyway.”

His breath hitched, and he turned his back to you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. You could see the tremble in his hand, the way his shoulders were tense with the weight of everything he was holding in. “You don’t understand,” he said again, his voice strained, like it was taking everything in him to keep it together. “You don’t know what it’s like, seeing someone you care about lying on the ground, hurt or worse, because you couldn’t protect them.”

You took a step closer, your heart aching for him, for the boy who carried the world on his shoulders, who had been forced to grow up too fast. “I do know,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “I’ve seen you hurt, Megumi. I’ve watched you throw yourself into danger, over and over again, without thinking about the consequences. Do you know how terrifying that is? To see you like that and not be able to do anything?”

He didn’t answer, but you could see the way his body stiffened, the way his breathing had quickened. The silence between you was thick with everything he wasn’t saying, with the fear and guilt he refused to let out. Finally, he turned back to face you, his expression hard, but his eyes—his eyes were filled with something much deeper.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to keep you safe without pushing you away.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke your heart, and you felt your own anger slowly dissolve into something more tender, something that ached with the need to reach him. “You don’t have to figure it out alone,” you said, stepping even closer until you were standing just inches away from him. “I’m here, Megumi. I’m not going anywhere. But you have to trust me. You have to let me help.”

His gaze dropped to the floor, his hands still clenched at his sides. “It’s not about trust,” he muttered. “It’s about what’s at stake. You don’t know how many nights I’ve stayed awake thinking about all the ways things could go wrong, all the ways I could lose you.” His voice cracked slightly, and he inhaled sharply, trying to regain control. “If something happened to you because of me...”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” you interrupted softly. “Not because of you. You’re not responsible for everyone’s safety all the time, Megumi. You can’t control everything. But if you keep treating me like I’m something fragile that needs to be protected from the world, you’re going to push me away. I don’t want to be a burden to you. I want to be your partner.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. His breathing was shallow, his fists unclenching slowly as he processed your words. You could see the war going on inside him, the conflict between his need to protect you and his realization that he couldn’t keep you in a bubble forever. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was barely audible. “I’m scared of losing you.”

Your heart broke for him, and without thinking, you closed the remaining distance between you, gently cupping his face in your hands. His skin was warm under your touch, but his body was still tense, like he was afraid to let go. “You’re not going to lose me,” you said, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “I’m right here. And I’m not leaving.”

His eyes closed, and for the first time, you saw the walls he’d built around himself start to crumble. Slowly, tentatively, he reached up and covered your hands with his, holding onto you like you were the only thing grounding him in that moment.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted again, his voice raw and vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before. “But I don’t want to keep pushing you away.”

You smiled softly, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “We’ll figure it out together,” you promised. “No more shutting me out, no more trying to protect me from everything. We face this together. Okay?”

He nodded slowly, and you could feel the tension in his body start to ease, his grip on you tightening just slightly, as if he was afraid to let go. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice shaky but sincere.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling the warmth of his breath as he exhaled softly, the tension between you finally dissolving into something softer, something full of understanding.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his. “I promise.”

And this time, when he looked at you, you knew he believed you.

[lynaferns]

FNAF Steampunk AU

That I never finished because I couldn't figure out what was going to be the story and character dynamics, and the role of each character, and yeah… I also spend many days writing, rewriting and changing thing, I didn't even get to finish the first draft and I got artblock.

I think my problem in the first place was that I wanted to make this AU stick to canon. A mistake, I know lmao. Later I thought of just making up most of the things but having to rewrite what I had already done dismotivated me.

So I thought of at least showing this character height chart I made a year ago. And maybe, idk, some of the wips that I never finished.

Maybe some notes and interactions I wrote under a cut.

If you ever want to ask me about what I had planned for this AU go ahead! Some main things about this story are:

All of the events of the story happens in a week (or so).

Gregory acts a little more scared than what is shown in the game.

DCAs arms can stretch up to 100 ft (30 m). He bends them to write or make shapes in the air.

Sun has some nowlege in animatronic repairs and maintenance due to being abandonent, having to repair himself.

Vanessa/Vanny have a biger role than in the game.

Burntrap also apeared more.

All animatronics are equiped with dart guns (for safety!). There are some places that require to leave the dart guns behind to continu.

Pizza is scuare (this is not important, I just felt like adding it).

Also, first idea and some doodles.

Edit: Now Cassie is in the AU

Gregory gets to escape to the locker rooms leaving Chica behind him. While searching for an exit Gregory gets surprised by Sun who was searching for him, and out of fright takes out the camera and flashes his bad eye damaging him for a few seconds.

Sun- "you were carring an object capable of blinding animatronics with you and you didn't use it against Chica to escape?!"

Gregory- "I didn't remember! I was more focused on running than taking a camera out of my pocket!"

Sun-pointing at himself with his hands- "And you had to remember when you saw ME?!"

Monty grabs Moon by the neck and throws him like a stick doing a spinning motion on the air, Roxy chases after him. She comes back carrying Moon with her mouth.

Freddy has an existential crisis by seeing endos. Moon is there awkwardly watching him. He gives him a pat on the back.

The auxiliary arm of the protective cylinder is broken, Gregory has to repair Sun manually. Trying to put his face plate back the nose falls off and Gregory nervously catches it juggling. They look between each others and the nose.

Sun-"..." "Gregory"

Gregory-"..."

Sun-"come on, say it"

Gregory-"..." "Got your nose~"

Vanessa is explaining something to the group. Moon is behind her copying her movements. The others are trying not to laugh. She notices and throws a flashlight at Moon.

They divide in groups. Moon gets on Monty's backs like a gremlin.

Moon-"go gator boy"

Monty-"I hate you"

One last, this is a whole scene that needs a bit of context. The current team members are Gregory, Freddy, Sun/Moon. They have figured out that the safe mode prevents animatronics from acting weird/hostile (found out the hard way in an encounter with moon and a fuse box). Though Moon seems not to attack Gregory anymore they wanted to test it with the rest of the band and found Chica, some things happened, they left her in her room in sleep mode and went to roxy raceway. This begins when they head to the west arcade to repair the service bot's head and on their way they encounter Chica out of the sleep mode but more normal.

(Forgive my poor writing, this was more of a script)

The four of them stare at each other until one decides to react.

Sun–”HELLLLO” Chica– holding her left arm–”A- Hiii, umm” Freddy– “He-hello Chica! What got you here??” Chica– “I-uh…patrol? I- think?? There… There is a child lost in the pizzaplex and we were, like- told to go find him, remember?” “Actually, wait, why are you out of your room? I thought maintenance put you on lock down- And what is the Daycare attendant doing out of the Daycare? it’s not the end of the hour yet- Oh!”–she just saw Gregory behind Freedys legs–”hey! you got the kid-”–flashback of the garbage compactor–”GET HIM”–she points at him with a dart gun– Sun–gets in the way–”WOAH WOAH WOW easy there!” Freddy–”Chica- wait! It’s ok he’s with us” Chica–”T-that-that kid is a menace! He- we should-HAVE to take him to the officer Vanessa–” Gregory–*gasp * Freddy & Sun– “NO!” Chica–”????wha-?

Freddy– “We must not take him to her.” Chica- “You guys kidding?” “These are literal-plain-instructions that you are- just-” “That kid threw me through the garbage compactor!” Gregory–”You tried to kill me!” Chica–”what?! No! I couldn’t do that, that’s against my programming!” Sun–”Uuumm, about that miss-” Chica–”YOU”–points at Sun with the gun– Sun–”?!” Chica–”You were there too!” “You have been with this kid all this time!” Sun–hands up-”Iwastryingtostophim” Freddy–”Chica, calm down, I know what this looks like but-” Sun–”OHMYGOSHWAITGUYS, she’s not hostile!” Chica–”wha-?” Freddy–”what…?” Gregory–”what??” “She’s literally pointing at us with a gun” Sun–standing next to Chica, pointing at her while looking at Freddy and Gregory–”I just noticed! her behavior changed-!” Chica–redirects the gun to re-target him–”you’re getting too close” Sun–ignores that–”She’s back to normal! That means the safe mode worked, we can use this!”

Chica–”What are you talking about?” Freddy–”You’re right! That’s a relief” “right Gregory?” Gregory–”...Yyyyyeah? I guess, yeah” Chica–”seriously, what do you all mean?” Freddy–”Well, It’s a little long story-” Sun–”And we will explain it to you!” “BUT not now, we are in a rush!” “To repair this bot-head so Gregory can ride the racecar” Chica–”...” “‘you serious?” Sun–”yep!” “Say, Gregory! You still want to ride?” Gregory–”uh-yeah” Sun–”Then let’s go!” “TO THE WEST ARCADE!”–grabs Freddy and Gregory and takes them there–”You can come if you want~!” Chica–”...” “OH- GOLLY, WELL” “I guess I’ll just go with you even though I don’t understand what is happening! And no one is going to give me an explanation!” Freddy–”-I promise that I’ll give you a wide explanation once we are done with all this… But in a more private place”

There are actually a couple more of scenes before this one (and after) but I'm not very confident of showing those (or any actually but I don't want this to be buried in my documents and forgoten because I really want to at least make a decent story)

Also, I know that the canon heights for the animatronics are like 6 ft but I prefered my height variety headcanons. Maaaaaybe they are a little too tall looking at it now that I look at it again but, eh.

[littlelou22]

pretend | joel miller x fem!reader

summary: joel ends things with you, leaving you in the dark as to why. will the two of you get back together or stay apart?

warnings: angst, hurt, mean!joel, insecure!joel, eventual fluff, age gap (reader in undefined age but young, joel’s canon age), language, men being TRASH, violence, y/n used like twice, probs shitty writing, idk let me know if I miss any

divider credit: @saradika

word count: 6.2k

author's note: my first post, let me know what you think :)

requests open!

The two of you stood on opposite sides of the bed in your – his – room, chest heaving as you stare at Joel. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, the two of you were fine when you returned from patrol a few hours earlier. Joel had gone to help Tommy with something and you had taken Ellie to see whatever movie was playing tonight.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so cold with me,” you spoke, shaking your head. 

And you truly didn’t. You and Ellie had stopped at the Tipsy Bison to pick up dinner for the three of you after Joel was helping Tommy. Ellie had run off while you waited for the food, seeing Dina stationed at one of the tables. You passed the time at the bar, occasionally making forced small talk with the other patrons. Even though you had been in Jackson for a few months, you still didn’t feel quite at ease with most of the people here.

After you got the food, you ventured off home with Ellie to wait until Joel was done. But he never showed, not until after you and Ellie had eaten and the younger girl had gone off to bed. Joel had stormed in, kicked off his boots, and immediately went upstairs, not sparing you a single glance. Obviously, you had followed him, but you have no idea how you ended up here.

“I’m done with this,” Joel says, eyes everywhere except on you. “I’m done with you.”

“What?” You take a step back as if his words had physically pushed you.

“I needed you for her. That’s it,” Joel snapped at you. “Now that it’s over, I don’t see a reason to pretend anymore. Understand?”

You felt as if the air had been sucked out of you, as if Joel had kicked you right in the stomach. You thought you finally had a grasp on Joel, that you could finally read how he was feeling. But as you stared at him from across the room, he felt more like a stranger than the man you fell in love with.

You wanted to scream, to cry, to plead with him to not do this. To not leave you like everyone else did. But you didn’t – you couldn’t. Before you could even process what was happening, you were nodding.

“Okay,” you breathed, nodding your head. You felt the tears burning behind your eyes, begging to be released, but you refused to crack in front of him. Refused to let him see how much his words had made your heart ache. “If that’s how you feel, then okay.”

So, you left. Out of his bedroom and down the hall, passing Ellie’s door where you knew she was inevitably listening to the fight. Down the stairs and out the front door, letting it swing closed behind you. Your feet carried you down the dark street until you couldn’t go any further. The tears burned behind your eyes, a sob escaping you as you stumbled into the stables, barely making it to one of the hay bales before collapsing in on yourself.

You didn’t understand what happened, what had changed since you got back from Salt Lake City. Since the three of you tried to integrate into the community. Since Ellie started at school. Since you and Joel started to patrol and help wherever you could in Jackson. 

Did you do something that upset Joel? That made him rethink whatever it was between the two of you? The two of you weren’t officially together but your relationship wasn’t nothing. At least, you didn’t think you were nothing.

Clearly, you were wrong. What you thought was a relationship was actually just a means to get by, a way to pass time for Joel. You get it, you really try to. The road was long, it was tough, and it was lonely. The three of you had seen, and done, unthinkable things to get Ellie to the Fireflies. Obviously, that didn’t go as planned, landing the three of you back in Jackson. Where it felt impossible to return to some semblance of normalcy. So, how could you blame him for using you as an escape?

You just wish he would’ve told you from the beginning what it actually was.

It was morning by the time you dragged yourself out of the stables. Thanking whatever higher power there was that you didn’t have morning patrol, you made your way to Tommy and Maria’s. If Joel didn’t want to pretend, then neither could you. You couldn’t pretend to be okay with being around him after what had happened, so you decided to avoid him at all costs. But, you couldn’t abandon Ellie, not after everything the young girl had been through. Even if she was more distant after Salt Lake, you couldn’t bring yourself to up and leave her. You wouldn’t.

With a deep breath, your knuckles rapped against Tommy and Maria’s front door. You knew it was early, the sun barely just peeking over the horizon but you couldn’t wait. You and Joel were assigned second patrol, and you’d rather not be subjected to that after last night.

“You look like shit,” Tommy said after answering the door. You knew you did, sleeping on a rectangular stack of hay could only offer so much.

“Good morning to you too,” you force a smile at him. You liked Tommy, you had become close with him and his wife after settling in Jackson but you didn’t want to see the younger Miller brother right now. You knew it wasn’t his fault, but you couldn’t help the deepening pit in your stomach at the sight of him. “Is Maria up yet?”

“She’s out back, hanging laundry on the line,” he answers, eyes scanning over your puffy eyes and pale face. “You okay, bug?”

“M’fine Tommy, thank you” you grimace at the nickname. Joel had gifted you the name when the two of you met and upon arriving in Jackson, Tommy took up to calling you that as well. You make your way to the back of the house where you found Maria, true to Tommy’s word. Sighing, you grab one of the shirts in the basket, joining her at the laundry line.

“Good morning,” Maria muses, a playful smile on her face as she turns to you, wiping her hands on her jeans before resting them on her hips. “What can I do for you?”

“What makes you think I need something?” You can’t help but respond. Maria was the closest thing to a friend you had in Jackson, it was hard not to feel as though you could be yourself around her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up and out this early in the morning,” she says, glancing back at the house to see Tommy in the window, watching the women through the glass. He shrugs, answering her silent query. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh heavily, pinching your nose between your fingers after hanging the shirt on the line. “I need you to switch my patrol partner.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Maria asks, voice gentle as if you were a frightened deer.

“No paradise to have troubles in,” you mutter, shaking your head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It didn’t work out, I just need you to switch my partner.”

Maria stared at you, narrowing her eyes as she, like Tommy, surveyed your condition. You knew she saw right through you. Knew there was more to the story than you were letting on to.

“Okay,” she nodded after a minute, looking at the watch on her wrist. “There’s still fifteen minutes before first patrol, go let Alexander know he’s with Miller now. You can patrol with Marcus now.”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, relief filling you to the thought of not being around Joel. The relief soon left at the mention of your new partner, but you couldn’t be picky here. “Thank you Maria, I won’t let you down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replies, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You better get going if you want to make it.”

“Right,” you say, turning on your heels to start the walk back to the stables, knowing the morning patrol people would be there by now.

Maria watches you leave, only making her way inside once you are out of her sight. As she enters the kitchen, Tommy appears before her with raised eyebrows.

“What was that about?” He asks, passing her a cup of warm tea.

Maria sighs, shaking her head. “I’m not sure, but your dumbass brother might.”

“Joel?” Tommy questions, confused as to what might’ve happened between his brother and the woman he is obviously infatuated with.

“Do you have another brother that I don’t know about?” she raises her eyes at her husband, shaking her head. “She wanted to switch patrol partners, wouldn’t tell me why or what happened.”

“Shit,” Tommy sighs, leaning back against the counter before muttering. “What did you do, Joel?”

“I have no idea,” Maria shrugs before setting her mug in the sink. She pats Tommy’s shoulder before making her way towards the stairs, turning to face her husband before she climbs them. “But have fun letting him know!”

“That was fun,” Marcus smiled at you as the two of you rode your horses through the front gates after patrol. Eyes zeroing in on your hips as they rise and fall with each step of your horse.

You force a smile at him, half listening to him as your eyes dart back and forth in search of Joel. You knew he was due to head on second patrol and the last thing you wanted to do was see him. “It sure was.”

“Alex never looked that pretty when taking down Infected,” Marcus continues, not picking up on your disinterest in him. “Glad there was a change up, I was beginning to get bored of watching him.”

You don’t offer him a response as you continue towards the stables, preoccupied with hoping and praying that Joel and his new partner had already left for patrol. For once, whatever higher power out there was on your side as you find the stables vacant.

“Thank God,” you mutter to yourself, sliding off your horse, Luna, to guide her towards her stall which was thankfully far away from Marcus’. Once you got her in her stall, you began to take off her saddle and get her ready for the night. As you did so, your mind wandered to your new patrol partner. 

You weren’t oblivious, you knew what Marcus was doing. It wouldn’t be the first time that he tried to sweet talk you. The man had been adamant to gain your attention since you stepped foot in Jackson after the Firefly incident. Whether it was at the stables, the Tipsy Bison, or at movie night, Marcus tried everything to engage you in a conversation.

Any chance he got, Marcus would try his best to make an impression on you. To ask you out on a date. None of his advances ever made it far, you weren’t interested in the men of Jackson and had made it clear. At least, you thought you did, especially after yesterday’s event at the Tipsy Bison.

While you were waiting for the food, Marcus and his friends were putting the ‘tipsy’ in Tipsy Bison. When drinking, Marcus liked to get a little handsy and his previous rejected advances did not seem to deter him trying again. In good Marcus fashion, he attempted, again, to get you to go out with him. You rejected him, as you had many times before, by sliding his arm off your shoulders before moving to a different part of the bar. Luckily, your food was ready soon after so you didn’t have to endure his stares any longer.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice rang out in the stall, causing you to whip around to find the intruder.

Ellie leaned against the opening, arms crossed over her chest as she watched you catch your breath, clearly you had not heard her enter the stables.

“Jesus, Els, you can’t sneak up on people like that,” you breathe, shaking your head at the young girl. You eye the backpack she throws onto the ground before she flops down onto the stool you had brought in earlier. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?”

“It’s boring,” she answers as if it was an acceptable reason. “You gonna tell Joel I’m skipping?”

You stiffen at the mention of his name, glancing at Ellie before answering. “Nope.”

“You want to talk about what happened last night?” She presses, confirming your previous suspicions of her eavesdropping tendencies.

“Nope.” Exiting the stall, you make yourself appear busy to avoid further questioning from the girl.

Ellie follows, picking at the end of her sleeves, shifting from foot to foot as she watches you flit around the stable. You spare a glance at her, knowing that her mind is running a mile a minute as it gears up before speaking.

“You okay, Bellie?” You ask, halting your work.

“You aren’t gonna leave, right?” Ellie asks after a moment, eyes avoiding your face.

You sigh, setting down the pail of food you gathered before walking up to the girl. You place your hands on her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. “Of course not, I promised you that I would never leave you, remember?”

The girl nods, “I remember.”

“Good,” you smile at her, ruffling up her hair before giving her a gentle push towards the stable doors. “Go back to school before you get us both in trouble.”

After Ellie leaves, you putter around the stables for a few hours before you hear the clopping of horses approaching the stables. Peeking out of the window, you see Joel and his new patrol partner.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You think, immediately running back to Luna’s stall. You frantically grab your things and hightail it out of the back entrance of the stables. Leaning against the back of the barn, you wait until you hear the men enter before making your way back to town. You had no idea how you were going to avoid Joel for the foreseeable future, but there was no way you were ready to face him.

The next few weeks went by similarly. You left the house before the sun rose, before anyone in the house was awake. You would go on patrol, endure several hours of the torture that is Marcus and his antics before returning to the town. You’d wait to watch Joel leave for patrol before going to the house you shared or going into town. Once he was back home, you’d return to the stables where you would spend your evenings, only returning home in the late hours of the night. One day while he was on patrol, you had moved all of your things into the third bedroom that was now your own. It worked, you rarely ran into Joel. When you did, you would turn and go the opposite direction or retreat back to your room. 

It worked until it didn’t.

You were at the Tipsy Bison, leaned against the bar with a drink in your hand as you listened to Maria. She had to practically drag you out here after days of begging for you to socialize. To be a part of the community. You partly did it to get her off your back, but as you listened to the conversation around you, you felt happy that she managed to get you to come out. It had been a long time since you stayed in one place for longer than ten minutes without constantly checking over your shoulder.

Maria had been recounting a story about Tommy from early on in their relationship when you felt it. Felt eyes burning into your back. Stares that felt like ice water spilling down your shirt, sending vicious shivers up your spine. It felt uneasy, putting you on edge. The longer it lingered, the more uncomfortable you grew.

Turning to give the establishment a once over, you noticed two things. One, Joel was in the corner with his brother, hands full with glasses of neat whiskey as they conversed with one another. Eyes on Tommy, not on you. And two, your oh so lovely patrol partner making his way over towards your group.

“Maria,” you start, turning to your friend, attempting to say your goodbyes before booking it out of the bar when a rather large and heavy arm is slung around your shoulders.

Marcus steadies himself on your shoulder, the smell of alcohol seeping from his pores as he surveys your group, eyes lingering on you for too long. “Ladies! Looking fantastic tonight!”

“Why thank you, Marcus,” one of the women, Fiona, in your group respond, smirking at the obviously drunk man. She bats her eyelashes at him and you feel sick. “How can we help you?”

“Just wanted to talk to my patrol partner here,” Marcus turns to peer down at you, offering you a smile as he squeezes you to his side. “Tommy told me we are patrolling a new area tomorrow, so I figured the two of us could talk strategy. Maybe over a drink or two.”

You grimace, trying to shrug his arm off your shoulder but he is gripping onto you impeccably tight. “It’s late, Marcus, and I was just about to leave. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“How about he walks you home?” Maria suggests, raising her eyebrows at you. You throw her a look, hoping she picks up on the obvious disapprovement you have over this idea. But she doesn’t, the other women in the group joining in on the idea. “The two of you can discuss it on the way back.”

“It’s the least you can do,” Fiona nods at you, cutting you off when you go to protest. “You did force him to change partners, you can’t blame the man for wanting to make sure he’s safe tomorrow.”

Sending Fiona a hard glare, you push Marcus’ arm off of your shoulder to slip on your coat. “Fine, let’s go.”

You wave off the group’s goodbyes before beelining for the door. The faster you get out of here, the faster you can get home and away from Marcus. On the way out, you glance at the table that Tommy and Joel were residing at, finding it vacant. At this point, you didn’t care if you would run into Joel at the house. Anything was preferable to spending any more time than necessary with your insufferable patrol partner. 

After exiting the building, you start towards home at a quick pace, hoping to shorten the usual ten minute walk into a five minute walk. You don’t feel Marcus at your side, hoping that you lost him in your haste out of the bar. Your thoughts are silenced when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, yanking you to a halt and into one of the allies in the town square.

“What’s the rush, sweetheart?” Marcus smirks, pulling closer to you as his grip on your wrist tightens.

“Got the kid waiting up for me back home,” you quickly lie, tugging your wrist back in an attempt to free yourself. “QZ schools weren’t the best, she needs help with her homework.”

He chuckles, shaking his head at you before backing you into the brick wall of the alley behind you. “I’m sure her dad can help her with that. We have some things to discuss.”

“It would be best to discuss whatever it is in the morning,” you gulp, pressing closer to the wall to create more space between the two of you. “When we both haven’t been at a bar for the night. With clearer minds.”

“Baby,” Marcus breathes, “My mind has never been more clear.”

He ducks his head, pressing his lips forcefully against yours. His hands move to your hips, pressing himself into you. You desperately try pulling your head back to avoid him, but the brick wall behind you prevents you from moving away. Panicking, you sink your teeth into his lip, biting down until you taste the metallic tang of blood. Your hands move to his chest, pushing him off with all your strength. Marcus stumbles back, hands dabbing at his lip to feel the damage. 

“What the actual fuck are you thinking?” You seeth, wiping the taste of him away with the back of your hand. You stare at him for a beat, bewildered, before pushing off the wall to make your escape.

You make it a few steps before Marcus surges forward, arms encircling your waist to pull you off the ground. All attempts of your struggle are thwarted when he throws you onto the pavement, hands wrapping around your throat as he straddles your stomach, your arms pinned to his thighs.

“You disrespectful, little bitch,” he spits, hands tightening at your throat. “Your daddy ever teach you manners as a young girl? Like all girls need to be taught?”

You gasp at the lack of oxygen as you try to squirm your way out of his grasp. Your constant struggle only seems to agitate Marcus more as he pulls you off the ground before slamming you back down. The back of your head bounces off the hard pavement beneath the two of you. All efforts to fight cease as dots begin to swarm your vision. 

“You respect men that want to talk to you,” Marcus growls, smirking at your dazed face. His hands continue to tighten around your throat. “You’re lucky to even have my attention.”

Your vision is starting to go dark when his weight is suddenly pulled off of you. Coughing, you roll onto your stomach, attempting to gain your bearings. You hear fighting next to you, propping yourself on your hands and knees to try to see what’s going on.

“So help me god,” Joel practically snarls, one hand gripping Marcus’ collar while the other delivers a nose shattering punch. 

“If you ever go near her again, I will kill you.” Punch.

“If you look at her again, I will kill you.” Punch.

“If you even so much as breathe in her direction, I will kill you.” Punch.

“Do I make myself clear?”

You watch from your hands and knees as Joel delivers punch after punch until Marcus is whimpering under him, gasping for air like you were only moments earlier. Once he believes the message has been received, Joel drops his hold on Marcus and backs away, chest heaving.

You must make a noise as he turns to you, eyes quickly scanning your face before his gaze settles on the hand prints adoring your throat. He’s rushing to you before you know it, gentle hands helping raise you to your feet.

“Can you stand, bug?” Joel whispers, softly turning to check the spot where your head had kissed the payment. Today must be your lucky day, no blood appearing on his fingers after he gently ran them through your hair.

“M’fine, Joel,” you rasp, embarrassment pooling in your stomach. While you were thankful that he came by when he did, you couldn’t help but wish it happened to be anyone else. 

Joel sighs, running his hand down his face. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I said I’m fine Joel,” you pull yourself out of his gentle grasp, wrapping your arms around your midsection tightly. You take a few cautious steps back, stumbling but steady enough to walk.

“Let me get you home, angel,” Joel steps forward, hands reaching out to help you. “Ellie’s been askin’ bout you.”

Shaking your head, you continue to take tentative steps away from him. “I can take care of myself, Joel. You don’t have to pretend anymore, remember?”

And with that, you turned on your heels and began to make your way back to the house. You knew he was trailing some feet behind you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. All you wanted to do was crawl into your bed and forget that the night ever even happened.

“It looks like the bruising should heal in a few weeks,” Rick, Jackson’s one and only doctor, assesses, fingers gently pressing against the prominent hand marks on your neck. “The petechiae should clear up within the next few days.”

You nod, readjusting your collar whenever the doctor leans back to scribble down some notes. In the corner of your eye, you see Tommy and Maria share a glance before whispering, as if you weren’t even in the room.

“Any new loss of consciousness? Confusion? Dizzy spells?” Rick asks, pen pausing on the paper.

“Nope,” voice still scratchy but nowhere near as bad as it was a few days ago. “Can I go back on patrol now?”

With a sigh, Rick sets his clipboard down. “Sweetheart, what you went through was a traumatic event. You need to let yourself have time to recuperate mentally too, not just physically.”

“I take that as a no then,” you deflate when the doctor nods.

After answering the rest of Rick’s questions, you’re finally able to leave the infirmary. It seemed like you were there for hours, so to feel the sun on your face whenever you exited felt like sweet relief.

“Y/N,” Maria starts, guilt practically dripping from her.

“Maria, if you apologize one more time, I think I might implode,” you interrupt her, turning to face her. “You didn’t know, I didn’t tell you what he had been saying on patrol. This isn’t your fault.”

“But –”

“No buts,” groaning, you grab her shoulders, giving her a playful shake. “Some drunk asshole’s actions are not your fault. There was no way you could’ve known what would happen.”

“Darlin’, she’s right,” Tommy intervenes. “It’s no one’s fault but the man that did it.”

You hum in agreement, rolling your eyes at the way Maria practically pouts. “Just don’t give me another shitty patrol partner and we can call it even. Okay?”

Maria nods, pulling you into a tight hug. You gently pat her back, knowing the hug is more for her sake than yours, so you allow yourself to enjoy it, just this once.

You’re about to walk away but Tommy stops you, hand gently on your wrist. “Ellie wanted me to tell you to meet her at your house, said she needed help with somethin’.” 

“Little shit skipped school again?” You groan. “What would be so important that we have to do it now instead of after dinner?”

Tommy shrugs, smirk playing on his lips. “You really think I'm privy to how she operates?”

“I wish I was,” you mutter, waving your goodbyes before trudging back to your house.

You were going to have to talk to Joel about this. Ellie skipped at least twice a week and you thought the last discussion you had about it got through to her, but apparently not. You understood why she struggled with it, being one of the only outsiders in a building full of kids that had never been outside the walls of Jackson. People looked at you guys funny, you and Joel got it too. Even in the apocalypse, school was important.

After what seemed like an eternity, you crossed the threshold of your home. “Ellie?” you called.

No response.

“Ellie Bellie?” You called again, hanging your coat on the hooks by the door. You knew Joel was on patrol so you began to wander to find the girl.

After checking the entire upstairs, you began to worry.

“Ellie!” You yelled, thundering down the steps and into the kitchen.

“In the basement!” The girl finally responded.

With a breath of relief, you descended the basement steps and found the girl sorting through boxes, various tools of Joel’s spread around her.

“What did we talk about?” You approach, tugging on her ponytail. “No more skipping school, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she waves you off, pointing to the door behind her. “The water heater is in there, right?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You shrug. “The old man takes care of that stuff.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the door. “Well the stupid fuckin’ thing stopped working and I want Joel to be able to have a hot shower when he gets back from patrol.”

“So call Tommy, Els,” you resist her tugging. “I can’t fix it.”

Pouting, the young girl bats her eyelashes at you, putting on her best puppy dog face. “Please, please, please?”

After a few more seconds of her insistent begging, you cave in. “Fuck, fine. Just stop with the face. Promise you won’t skip school again and I’ll see what I can do?”

“Promise!” Ellie smiles in victory, holding out the worn owner’s manual to you.

You grab the dusty book from her before shouldering the door open, wandering into the room. It’s pitch black and you can’t seem to find the lightswitch.

“Els, where’s the light?” You ask, blinking to try to adjust to the lack of light.

“Don’t be mad, okay?” You hear the girl plead before the lights flicker on and the door slams shut, lock clicking.

A tired looking Joel sits in front of you, one hand handcuffed to the gas line of the water heater. You gape at him, part of you impressed that Ellie was able to get the one up on him.

But then the reality of the situation sets in and you start to bang on the door. “Ellie, open the damn door!”

“You can come out when the two of you work out whatever shit happened,” Ellie’s voice is muffled through the door but her message is loud and clear. A key slides in from under the door. “Unlock him if you want to.”

“Great, just great,” you mutter, forehead resting on the door. “Looks like we’re never going to get out of here.”

You can hear Ellie stomp up the basements and slam the door, off to do god knows what with both of her guardians locked in a room. Turning, you look to see Joel, his eyes watching your movements. You take in his appearance – right hand cuffed to the flimsy gas line of the water heater, left hand resting in his lap, both legs extended in front of him with crossed ankles. Under different circumstances, you would have laughed.

“Would you mind givin’ me that key?” Joel asks, motioning to the key resting on the ground by your feet.

Nodding, you kick the key to him, praising yourself that it slides within reach of him. You watch as he uncuffs himself, rubbing his skin where the cuff adored his wrist. Joel slowly stands, exhaling as he stretches himself up right. Once he’s upright, you take into account his bruised knuckles, undoubtedly from the other night.

The two of you are silent. The tension is palpable – too thick to cut with a knife, maybe even a chainsaw. You watch as Joel awkwardly shifts foot to foot. You can tell that he has a lot on his mind, but you aren’t sure if you want to know what he’s thinking.

You clear your throat, already regretting your next words. “Thank you, by the way.”

Joel nods, staying on his designated side of the small room. “I’d never just let that happen to you, y’know that.”

The awkward silence lasts a few more beats, neither of you know what to say to the other.

“You don’t have to avoid the house and town,” Joel breaks first, clearing his throat. “We can be friends, can’t we?”

“Speak for yourself,” you mutter, turning around to see if the door is actually locked. It is, to your dismay.

“Bug…” Joel starts but the nickname sets you off.

“Can you, like, not call me that?” You snap, whirling around to glare at him. “You lost any and all privilege to that the second you decided to use me for your own personal pleasure. Without regard to how I would feel, may I add?”

Joel scoffs, shaking his head, “I didn’t use you for my ‘own personal pleasure’.”

“Really?” Laughing, you feel insane with how worked up he has got you in one sentence. “Then what exactly did you mean by, and I quote, ‘pretend’.”

Joel opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off.

“Or what about ‘I’m done with you’?” You step into his space, practically chest to chest. “Because being done with someone doesn’t really leave room for friendship, now does it?”

“That’s not what I meant, y’know that!”

“Do I, Joel? Because it doesn’t feel like it!” You can feel your hands shaking as you shove him back. “You are so hot and cold. You give me fucking whiplash. I can’t stand it! You–”

His lips press against yours, hands settling on your waist to keep you in place. You freeze, the feeling of his mouth moving against yours is a foreign after not feeling it for so long. You feel yourself melting into his arms, your own wrapping around his neck as you kiss him back, lips fusing together as if they were made for each other.

Until you realize what’s happening.

“What’s wrong, bug?” Joel whispers after you throw yourself back, chest heaving.

“You can’t just do that,” your voice shakes and you feel small under his gaze. “You can’t fuck with my feelings like this.”

Joel lets out an aggravated sigh, hands running through his curly locks. “I’m not tryin’ to, sweetheart.”

“Then what are you trying to do, Joel? Because I can’t do the back and forth.” You desperately try to blink away the tears pooling at your eyes. “One minute you want me, the next you don’t. I don’t know what you want from me.”

A tear slips down your cheek.

And all of Joel’s resolve breaks.

“Baby,” he breathes, hands cupping your cheeks as he thumbs away your tears. “I…shit, hold on.”

You wait. You wait as his eyes squeeze closed. As he inhales and exhales deeply. As he shakes his head before looking at you again.

“I love you,” Joel admits. “But I’m no good for you.”

“Joel–”

“Please,” he begs. “I can’t protect you, or Ellie. You saw what happened with the raiders at the university, I almost got the two of you killed because I’m not as young as I once was. I’m not a good man, bug, I’ve done so many bad things that I will never deserve someone like you, no matter what I do now.”

You listen to all of his reasons why he doesn’t think he deserves you. You watch the pain of his past hold him back from ever realizing how much he is worth.

“Is that why you did that?” You ask quietly, hands coming to rest on his chest. “You pushed me away because you think you’re too old for me? Too much of a burden on me?”

Joel nods, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“But, Joel, those are your reasons,” you breathe. “Your thoughts, your opinions. Not mine.”

He shakes his head. “But–”

“But nothing,” you interrupt. “I love you because of all of that. I love everything about you, your past included, Joel. There is nothing that you could do or say that could ever possibly change that. Why do you think I avoided you for weeks?”

“Because you hated me?”

“Because I couldn’t be around you thinking that I loved you when you hated me.” You laugh, leaning up to briefly press your lips against his. “Next time, how about you talk to me before you make all the decisions?”

Nodding, Joel leans forward and slots his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, locking your hands together. You feel Joel smile against your lips, a feeling you had missed, before pressing yourself as close to him as possible. Your kisses become more feverish, Joel backing you up against the door as his hands run down your sides to your hips. His hands snake around your waist, lowering themselves to your butt, groaning at the way you react to him.

A loud bang on the door startles the two of you apart.

“As much as I love that the two of you figured it out,” Ellie yells through the door. “I don’t want to hear those noises. Ever.”

A giggle escapes your lips as you hide your face in Joel’s neck, a smile spreads across your lips when you feel his arms encompass your waist.

“Are you decent? Can I let you out now?”

“Yes, Ellie.”

“Thank god,” Ellie unlocks and swings the door open. She smiles seeing the two of you wrapped up together. “I was beginning to think you’d never figure it out.”

Joel shakes his head. “Shut up.”

“You mean ‘you’re welcome’,” Ellie teases before escaping up the stairs, pausing at the top. “Just don’t suck each other's faces around me, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” you salute her goodbye before turning back to Joel, who is pretending to look annoyed at the teen.

“By the way, how did she manage to handcuff you?”

[likedovesinthewindd]

i’m not sure how often you write / take requests but i just wanna throw an idea out just incase it sticks:

pathetic!patrick where reader wears the pants in the “relationship” - they’re kinda fwb and she introduces him as “just a friend” and he gets upset about it and angry and embarrassed bc wdym?? they’ve been hanging out and kissing and doing bf gf stuff and she just oh no we’re just friends’d him!!! in front of a bunch of his friends :/// just so much angst or somethin idk i love patrick zweig and i need him terribly and no one writes anything other than smut for him 😭😭😭 need him to crave me like i do him… let’s wake it up WHERE CAN I FIND PLOT

when I tell you I started salivating when I read this bc I've been wanting to write something angsty for patrick for a while now. anon, you are a godsend and I absolutely love this idea!! also side note, let's pretend patrick also went to stanford for this.

𖡼 ⊹ ˚.

Patrick's mind was racing at a hundred miles a minute as his feet carried him mindlessly. Your hand in his felt almost scorching, his other stuck deep in the pocket of his dress pants. The night's air was cold against your skin as the two of you walked along the pavemented grounds back to your dorm room.

The moment kept replaying in his mind. A few hours ago at some fundraising event for one of the faculties. Patrick reckons you were the most beautiful in the room. He couldn't keep his eyes (or hands, really) off of you, and both your and his friends had obviously noticed, inquiring you about it.

He doesn't know why it bothered him as much as it did; the way you awkwardly laughed and deflected when your friends had asked what was going on between the two of you. You made it sound so casual, which in honesty was what it was supposed to be originally, but the train had very much derailed since then.

Your hand squeezed at Patrick's, and when he looked at you, you gave him a timid smile. "You alright? You're very quiet," you said softly. Patrick pursed his lips before he shook his head. "M'fine," he said with a shrug, and you nodded, not fully convinced as the two of you made your way through the building.

"No, actually. I'm not," he spoke up again, lightly pulling his hand from your grasp before sticking it in his pocket as well. His tone surprised you, making you turn to him with a confused look. "What did you mean when you said we were just friends?" he asked, and your scowl deepened. "What are you talking about?"

"When your friends asked you what was going on between the two of us," he said with an agitated lilt to his voice, "you laughed and said we were just friends."

"We are just friends, though. But we," you falter for a moment, "y'know we're just messing around." You laugh as you say it, but nothing about Patrick's expression tells you he finds it humorous. "Are we, though?" he asked. "Are we what?" you asked. "Just messing around," he answered with a shrug, "you have to admit we've been doing a lot more than just 'messing around'."

"What are you even saying, Patrick?" you asked, genuinely confused as to what he was getting at. "I just think this," he gestures between the two of you, "is past the point of just messing around. At least, that's how I see it." You didn't mean to laugh at that, but you didn't think he realized how crazy he sounded at that moment. "Did you want me to tell our friends that I'm your little girlfriend?" you said sarcastically. "No, I just—"

"Because I'm not," you interrupted, "and you know that. That's what we agreed upon. No labels, remember?" Patrick does remember, and he wanted to kick himself now for ever agreeing to something like that, but it wasn't like he knew how far and fast things would progress between the two of you. "Just try to understand where I'm coming from," he said in a half pleading voice. "It's not just sex for us. I mean, seventy percent of the time we spent together, we're not even having sex."

You sighed as the two of you came to a standstill in front of your room's door. "Okay, Patrick, if you really think we're so close, what's my favourite color?" you asked. Patrick sputtered weakly before you spoke up again. "Favourite movie?" Nothing. "What's my mother's name?"

"I don't know," he said weakly, glancing down at his shoes to avoid your I told you so expression. "It is just sex Patrick," you said very matter-of-factly. "You can't expect me to give you any more than that. Maybe I've wanted to, but it just wouldn't work out." "Why not?" Patrick asked weakly. "A relationship doesn't start with two people immediately fucking and then wanting to get to know each other later on. That's just not how it works," you reasoned, digging in your jacket's pockets for your keys.

"I want to be with you," he said, followed by your name, uttered softly and pitifully as he watched your shoulder fall with a sigh. "Well, this is the only way you're getting me. You take it or leave it," you said, back facing him as you turned the key in the door. It opened with a click, and you grabbed the knob before turning to him again. "Are you coming in?"

And like a fool, Patrick followed you into the dark apartment. He sat at the edge of the bed as you slowly stripped from your dress. He didn't take his eyes off of you, couldn't even if he wanted to. And with every moan breathed against his mouth, every scrape scratched along his back, and every single moment spent with his head between your thighs or within your pulsing heat, he could feel himself falling deeper into the hole he had dug for himself.

And later that night, when your head lay against his chest as you slept, soft rhythmic breathing blowing against the fine hairs of his chest, his mind was still racing. He didn't know your favorite color or your mother's name, but he knew the fears that kept you up at night because those nights he was the first one you'd call because you knew he'd answer. He knew all the plans you had for your future, mapped out by the year, because some nights he'd come over when you couldn't sleep and the two of you would sit by your bedroom's window and talk till the sun showed face.

By now, he knew your body like the back of his hand, but he also knew your mind. He knew the way you thought, the way your thoughts could sometimes run away with you, and he knew exactly how to bring you back down to earth, ground you.

Patrick was conflicted, between a rock and a hard place, but above all, he was greedy. He knew he couldn't have you in your entirety, so he was going to cling onto what he could get, that bit of yourself you allowed yourself to give because he wasn't willing to loose you. He'd rather have a piece of you than lose all of you, and maybe that was going to be enough for him some day.