#in a desperate attempt to win people back over

[feelfreetopleasemexo]

Reader x Bakugo friends since kids

He asks to lose his virginity to you as you’re so close and doesn’t wanna be a pro hero virgin

First time is shit and awkward 

asks to try again

Twice the charm.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️🔸🔸🔸〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“Don’t make it fucking weird.” He snapped, his eyes burning into you as his arms rested either side of your head. For someone you grew up with, someone who gave you your first bloodied nose, first win at Mario kart, first broken toe, he suddenly didnt look so familiar. His chiseled jaw somehow sharper, his red eyes somehow darker, his arms somehow wider, you tried not to let your stomach flutter but with him now towering over you on your bed, you couldnt help but let it stir.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He huffed, his cheeks glowing as red as yours, as you felt his hips shift slightly away from you, instinctively you pulled him back, arching your back slightly to bring him closer.

“Stop talking and hurry up you idiot.” You barked back, trying your best to hide your anxiety at the very strange, completely new situation you had found yourself in. He had asked you earlier this evening if you could do him a massive favour, for Katsuki this usually meant he wanted you sitting on his back to add extra weight to his push ups, or helping him finish his English paper because he was far too angry at all the adjectives and verbs Present Mic wanted from him. But this time it was something completely different.

“I am NOT becoming a pro hero if im still a virgin. Everyone else has already lost theirs, hell, even Jiro let Denki hit at least once. “ His brow furrowed, looking as pissed off as ever.

“Im still a virgin too Yano…��� you offered in condolence.

“You don’t count.” He snapped back, pushing past you to grab another drink from the vending machine. “Besides, they all kinda think….i lost mine first.” Embarrassment flooded his voice as he lowly mumbled the last part.

“And why would they think that dare I ask…..” Trying not to scold him, you flash a sweet smirk his way as he downs his soda, and crushes the can in his hand effortlessly.

“I told them I had. We had.” He desperately tried to avert his gaze from yours, as your eyes widened at his blatant lie.

“You fucking WHAT?! You told them we fucked without even mentioning it to me?!” You pushed his bicep, hoping to nudge him at least a little with your frustration, but he stood still, completely unfazed at your force.

“Thought it’d be alright. No one’s said anything to you about it so….Yano….”

“Of course they didn’t! Why would they?! People dont go round confirming everyone’s broke hymens you fucking idiot!” You slammed your fist into his chest, again no reaction or acknowledgment at your attempt at hurting him.

“So, you gonna help me out or am I gonna have to find some rando to help me out.” He smirked slightly at the thought of you squirming under him, his cheeks beginning to slightly flush. You let out a deep sigh as you considered it.

“Wouldnt it be like fucking your sister though….ive known you forever. Hell, ive even shit myself infront of you before…” He shuddered slightly at the memory, pulling a dark grimace across his lips. Silence hung in the air as his eyes shifted back up to you, still awaiting your reply.

“Fine. Cmon let’s get it over with. But no kissing.” You snarl, grabbing his hand and guiding him to your bedroom.

And his hands tightened behind your head, grasping at your pillow, he start to thrust his hips against yours, letting his head lay in between your neck and jaw. His breath started to grow into a small pant as he reached down and started to grab your chest. You jolted at his hand squeezing your tit, letting out a slight gasp, as he flung his head up and concerningly looked at you.

“You alright?” He whispered in a lower, breathy tone.

“Yeah, just, not used to you touching me like this I guess…” you shake your head, trying to get the thoughts out of your mind. “Sorry, carry on….want me to take my trousers off?” You offered, desperately fighting the urge to get it over with, whilst also fighting the urge to savour every sensation that flooded your body. He nodded and moved back off you slightly, giving you room to undo and pull off your jeans. As you did so, he decided to take his joggers off too, along with his shirt.

The shadows casting on his abs made him look even more appealing, you always knew he had a good body, hell you weren’t blind, but you’d never looked at him this way, in this light, with this feeling fluttering in your groin. As your mouth opened slightly, gawking at him, you saw a small smirk creep to the corners of his mouth. He knew you were admiring him, and god did it rub his ego the right way. He started to tighten the muscles in his stomach, flexing slightly whilst staring down at you, the smirk growing wider as your eyes did the same.

“Yeah that’s right, I knew you thought i was hot. “ He proudly whispered, tensing his biceps too, as he laid his body back over yours. As he slotted back in between your hips, you inhaled slightly as his warm body encased yours under him, letting out a shy giggle as he grazed the sides of your hips, pulling you closer into him.

“Fucking hell katz, you’ve done this before haven’t you…” you stutter, completely embarrassed by how quickly your pants became damp from him pulling you in, feeling his cock getting harder and harder.

“Of course not… you think I’d of gotten this far with someone and then NOT fucked them? Cmon dont be an idiot.” He growled, looking down at your thighs trembling between him. “So, you ready then?”

Your voice trembled as you nodded your head, “yeah I think so. Just,” you tried to push the embarrassment off, tried desperately to pretend this wasn’t your first time, and that it wasn’t more special than it needed to be. “Hurry up alright? I dont want this being any weirder than it needs to be.”

“Yeah, ‘weird’ “ He scoffed, almost rolling his eyes at you, it was undeniable that something had now changed between you two, this wasnt an in out thank you very much job, it was quickly becoming an incredibly passionate, intense moment.

He slowly leant down to your neck and started peppering it with soft,slow kisses, the no kissing rule dissipated into thin air as soon as his hot lips brushed your neck. Your back arched as his hand started to move towards your waist band, pulling it down so he could brush up against your body, flesh to flesh. His warm cock rubbed against your folds, almost gliding against the hot honey that leaked from you, he let out a sharp exhale as he felt how truly wet you were for him. He rested his head on your chest as he guided himself to your entrance, slowly he put the tip of his head into you.

“F fuuuuck.” You blurted out, your eyes rolling in the back of your head already. His breathy moans against your skin made your senses burn even hotter as you dug your nails into his back. As he inched slowly into you with each thrust, you could feel your walls tightening around him, painful but so addictive you couldnt help but pull him more and more into you with your nails.

Suddenly, as he finally managed to thrust himself fully into you, he started to jerk, his whole body tensing up into a tight spasm. His face screwed up and a “oh fuck” left his lips. As he filled you with his hot cum, you couldnt help but sharply open your eyes and stare at him. Already?! It was an insanely good start, there’s no denying that, but was he seriously THAT sensitive? You tried desperately to hide your smirk, closing your eyes again and forcing your face into what you thought an orgasm face was, and started to let out small pants, there was no way you were going to let on to him that you knew what had happened. Not yet anyway. Not whilst he was still inside of you.

His eyes darted down to you in a panic, completely terrified that you had noticed he had cum already from six pumps, only one of them being fully into you anyway. As he saw your face, a slight relief washing over him as he reached down to play with your clit, he had read somewhere that this was the sure fire way to get any girl to cum, but as he swiped his thumb over it randomly, carelessly, you opened your eyes and pulled his hand away.

“Too much. It’s alright, you can get off now. “ The smirk was far too strong to hide, as it defied you and swiped across your face. His eyes furrowed as he quickly pulled out of you and sat back on his heels. As you closed your legs, you started to sit up slightly on your elbows, looking down at the cum leaking out of you onto your pink bed sheets.

“I didn’t cum.” He hissed, embarrassment slapping his face as his tried to cover his soaked wet boner from your eyes. You looked down at the cum now pooling under your ass, dripping out of you, and snickered,

“Yeah. Course not.” You darted your eye back up to his as your smirk teased him.

“Fuck off. You must’ve done something. All that squeezing inside and how wet you were….its your fault. “ he tried to turn his face away from you, tried to grab his trousers to pull them back on as he misjudged how shaken his body was and toppled to the floor. You let out a massive laugh as more cum was forced out of you, cupping your entrance to try to catch it so it didn’t completely ruin your mattress, he stood back up and huffed, pulling his trousers back over his hips and walked towards your door.

“You’re just gonna cum and run? Tsk, harsh man.” You slowly sat up, grabbing his t shirt that was flung to your side, attempting to cover your body as he opened the door.

“Yeah, whatever.” He slammed the door behind himself and left you alone in your room, defeated and unsatisfied.

The next day he didn’t look at you. You tried to push yourself past him in the shared kitchen like you usually did, but instead he swiftly moved away and let you almost fall to the kitchen counter. He left without saying a word. All day he didn’t speak to you, didnt look at you. Not in class, not in training, not even when you shouted over for him to move when sero accidentally let out more tape than he meant and it smacked him in the back of the thigh.

That night you decided to barge into his room , demanding answers, but you were met with him shoving clothes and training gear into a large bag on his bed.

“Running away cause I teased you? Cmon man, you can’t be serious.” You leant against his doorframe, folding your arms to your chest. He darted his eyes to you from the corner of his furrow brows.

“Fuck off. Im going home for a few days. Dont feel good.”

“Bull. Fucking. Shit.” You snapped.

“What? What do you want? More disappointment from one pump chump over here?! Fuck off out of my room!” He barked, smoke starting to rise from his palms as he become increasingly more angry, almost unable to control his frustration at himself.

“Really? You’re getting fucked off because of that?” You let out a short unimpressed laugh. “Dude, everyone’s first time is shit. That’s kind of the unspoken rule. First times shit, seconds slightly less shit, then you find your groove…” He throws a plushie at you, the one you won him years ago that he secretly kept under his bed.

“Fuck. Off.” His eyes didnt meet yours, he just kept packing. You walked over and slammed your icy fist onto his bag, completely freezing it under your palm. You stared at the top of his forehead with such intense anger and frustration, you couldnt help but feel like youd channeled him through yourself. He still didn’t meet your gaze as he let off a small spark and melted your ice instantly. “I said. Fuck. OFF!” He pushed you away, almost pushing you over, as you stumbled you fell onto his bed. He picked his bag up,flung it over his shoulder and started to leave. Before he opened his door, you let out an icy flick from your fingers, freezing his hand on the door handle.

“Do it better then. Don’t be a fucking baby. If your egos shattered then fix it. When have you ever not tried your best to be the fucking master of everything?!”

“Because it’s you.” He snapped, the hurt in his voice becoming even more apparent. “It was meant to be easy with you. It was meant to be an easy way to break this weird friendship family shit we have going on and make it easier….easier to tell… show you….how I felt.” His confession almost knocked the air from your lungs. Stunned, you stayed quiet, studying his back as his tight compression shirt fit so snuggly to each muscle, almost painted onto them. As the silence hung in the air with a sickeningly heavy strain, he opened the door and left.

Two days passed and he still hadn’t returned. You had decided to sleep in his room, praying that each creak, each gust of wind was him coming back into your life, your arms. But nothing. In class kirishima suddenly distanced himself from you, not in harsh hatred kind of way, but in a hurt, gotta side with my best friend kinda way. You didn’t pry, you just let him do his duty to Katsuki, and stay away. After another night alone you woke in the morning in his bed, in his favourite all might t shirt, and staggered to the communal kitchen to make some tea. Suddenly, you saw him drop his bags at the entrance of the doorway, and run to you. As he embraced you, he lifted you up in his arms and held you so tightly that it a made a loud squeak erupt from your lips. As he cradled you in his python grip, his head carving its way into your chest, you felt the tears rolling down your cheeks. You cradled the top of his head, and cried into his sharp,blond spikes. He loosened his grip slightly letting you fall down so you were face to face with him, and embraced you in a tight, passionate kiss. His lips almost burnt yours as he pressed deeply into you, still cradling you as if letting go meant losing you forever.

After it felt like time had stopped and you both remained entwined forever, he slowly let his lips leave yours for a moment as he walked towards the sofa. Gently laying you down onto it, still embracing you, he parted your legs and lay ontop of you. His kisses became slow, deliberate, passionate, as if they spoke the words he wanted to let out but couldnt. He ran his hand along the outside of your thigh as he slowly pressed himself against you, grabbing your ass he started to grab at the fabric of your pants. As the kisses became harder, his hands danced around your ass and lower back, lightly scratching you as his passion became more evident. As he breathed in your soft moans, he started to undo his trousers and tugged at your pants in between your thighs. You reached down and pulled them the side as you felt him pull his cock free from its denim prison. Slowly he started to guide himself into you as you clawed at his back. Kissing your neck, his teeth started to graze your skin as he started to bite down, sucking and claiming your skin as his chew toy. The harder he bit, the more he entered you, slow and deliberate, he managed to fully sink into you with another thrust, and started to rock his hips back and forth. The pleasure washed over you, his warmth, his passion, his fucking width stretching your walls to envelop him. The faster he moved his hips, the louder your moans became, trying as you might, nothing was stopping these sounds from escaping you. He managed to shove his tongue into your mouth and muffled them slightly, only overpowering them with his own. His hands held tightly around you as your euphoria engulfed you, suddenly your body become instantly hot as a sudden wave rose inside of you, as it reached its peak you threw your head backwards and screamed his name. As soon as his name slipped from your lips, he grabbed your chin to face him again, lips inches away.

“Again.” He smirked, the sweat dripping from his forehead, making his hair stick to it. Your voice trembled as your body started to twitch, seconds away from coming completely undo under him, you said it again and he thrusted harder. This was enough to send you into complete euphoria. Your thighs clenched around him, your walls pulsed almost pushing him out of you, as your body filled with electricity frying every single nerve ending you had. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you started to see stars, he placed his forehead on you and started unfolding himself. As you rode the wave together, you both eventually coming down, panting and sweating, you fell into a puddle of each other and laughed.

He opened his eyes slowly to look at you, forehead still pressed to yours, as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Better?” He asked, almost a whimper between pants.

“You better not have gone off to practice without me.” You giggled, your chest rising and falling quickly, desperately trying to find any extra oxygen it could. As he leant down and softly pressed his lips to yours, a sudden door closing made you both jump. You both stared, eyes as wide as physically possible at the figure standing at the doors entrance. Mr aizawa. Arms folded. Scowl burning you both to your core. The laugh that erupted from katsukis throat made you shake as he was still inside of you. His nervous laughter made you suddenly erupt in laughter too. His head hung lower as he pulled out of you, and put himself back into his trousers swiftly, praying that maybe he thought you were dry humping.

“Feeling better?” Mr aizawa bluntly asked, before turning around and leaving the UA building, just as he was about to close the door behind himself, he muttered.

“I hope you’re both ready for the punshiments coming your way. Also, denki get back to your room.” Katsuki spun his head round to see denki peering over the side of the wall, eyes wide staring at katsukis back as it hung over you. His face a mixture of mortified and jealous. He quickly ran back around the corner as Katsuki jumped up and chased him. You sunk into the sofa, trying to make yourself as small as possible, as the door slammed shut behind aizawa.

“I suppose now they can’t think he lied about us.” You whispered to yourself, giggling into your hands now covering your face.

[area51-escapee]

“A little progress is better than none!!! Vote blue anyways <3!!!!!” I’m going to start beating these people with a baseball bat I swear to god

[prncssguya]

on hwang in-ho/front man, seong gi-hun and their dynamic.

first, idk why people are getting so upset at other people calling gi-hun dumb, we were told that in the first season. lol being bright is not his strongest trait but he has a good heart and we love that about him. however, he is still an idealistic gullible idiot with a gambling problem. except this time his gambling addiction is backed by a sense of justice and righteousness and he no longer gambles with money, he’s gambling with people’s lives. front man asked a good question at the end of the season, “did you have fun playing the hero?” can we even call gi-hun the hero of the story anymore? he gambled with people’s lives and front man showed him the consequences of his moral heroics.

front man only agreed to help gi-hun with his revolution when he mentioned about "small sacrifices for the greater good". i think he reveled in the fact that the “good guy” was willing to allow a few innocent people to die for the greater good to stop the games, which is exactly what the entire VIP theory is to rid the world of 'trash' to improve the world. notice how gi-hun's moral code and belief also changed, from being "nobody should die" into "yeah small sacrifice is okay as long it's for the greater good" at this point, he just proved that front man's belief is actually valid. AND he gets more of his own people killed in the pointless battle with the soldiers that they had no chance of winning. now he gets to feel responsible for all those deaths and the death of his friend and for whatever additional torture they cook up in the next games (as punishment for the escape attempt).

now on hwang in-ho, i believe he was once a good man and the story he told gi-hun was the truth. but in the end he lost a kidney, lost a wife, a baby, lost his money, got fucked over by the wrong people and got into serious debt and had to play this game to help his wife and probably it was too late to save her. he might have played the games like gi-hun but saw how ruthless and greedy people are and resolved that they don't deserve help

i don’t think in-ho wants/will kill gi-hun, but he wants him to understand things from his perspective and show him that his compassion for the people in the games is foolish. you can tell the frontmen (the old man and in-ho) are extremely fond of gi hun. not only did he protect their original front man when nobody else did, he then won the games and thus their respect as he is now as rich as them. he's no longer "trash", he’s an elite like them. i think they both actually kept tabs on him after he won (i wonder if they do that for all winners? inserting them with gps chips?) because they knew he had not used his reward money and in-ho wanted gi-hun to get on the plane and be happy with his daughter

there’s one interesting aspect of the games that makes front man such a complex character. the fact that they’re operating a organ transplant trafficking network. in a way, he’s creating some good to come from a really fucked up situation. but is it really for the good of others who desperately need it, people like his wife, like his brother? or is it just a money making scheme?

either way, i don’t think there is going to be a redemption arc for in-ho, he’s too far gone. we may get to see more of his human side if he manages to see jun-ho again. the only time we’ve seen genuine emotions from him was when he shot his brother like he seemed distraught

the real cliffhanger for me, is will gi-hun stay true to his belief that people can be good, or will he be forever changed into a villain and become the next front man…? after the events of this season i don’t see how his will doesn’t shatter. he’s witnessed how humanity consistently chose money over survival, he’s lost two close friends, his mother, abandoned his daughter. he has gained nothing from wanting to stop the games and this clearly feels like an origin story for the next front man. it’s clear the front man has won this round and i think squid game will either die with 001 or continue with gi-hun as game master

another thing i find funny that i don’t see many mention is how gi-hun is like the luckiest guy in the fucking world. but i don’t think him being alive this long is plot armor, it makes sense. the games exist for the entertainment of rich sadists who have so much money they don't know what to do with it (remember what old 001 said in s1 about life being no fun for both people with no money and people with too much money). and i’d imagine killing hundreds of poor debt-ridden fools year after year gets boring. especially when said fools are desperate enough to gamble with their lives because they think they can beat the system by playing better than everyone else and surviving and getting the money.

gihun is different because he got the money, got out, and still came back. not because he's unfeeling or because he wants more money, but because he's still convinced he can beat the system.

if you're a rich bored gazillionaire, would you rather watch some randos die or would you rather watch this exceptional idiot fail again and again until he learns that his ideals are meaningless and people are inherently greedy and equality is a myth and people at the bottom of the barrel don't get to question the system?

if you're an asshole gazillionaire, you don't want someone to challenge you and just get away with it. you want to hand them 45.6 billion won and make them go away quietly, traumatized, after breaking them psychologically by making them do horrible things until they understand they're just powerless "horses". if they insist on challenging you and your system and your beliefs (money = boundless power), you teach them a lesson and show them their place in the most manipulative and cruel way possible. if gihun dies right away, that's boring. so he can't die, he needs to suffer. he needs to concede defeat.

also, i find it funny how people are comparing hwang inho and gihun dynamic to hannibal and will graham. makes sense, their whole cat and mouse game, front man hiding his true nature from gi-hun the same way hannibal does, trying to corrupt the righteous protagonist, sowing chaos, testing him and observing his behavior like a lab rat, the crazy tension and staring contests, the gaslighting and manipulation. and with the fact that they think lee byung-hun looks like mads mikkelsen. i never put the two of them together but now i can’t unsee it lol

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst (I guess, I'm not sure lol) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide A/N: Soo I was going to make a fluffy/smutty story but my PMDD hit me hard af and then BOOM, this. This was super hard yet easy to write at the same time probably because it's a self insert lol like this is literally me. Sylus' "perfect" persona does intimidate me and I grappled with the thoughts of "what if Sylus was real, could he actually handle this?" I hope everyone enjoys and please please please remember to take care of yourselves! 💗

Next

When was the last time you crawled out of bed today? Your stomach twisting, hunger pangs turn into nausea. But the thought of forcing your limbs to carry you into the kitchen for food feels insufferable. So, you stay buried in the tangle of unmade, unwashed sheets. A hint of fabric softener desperately clinging to the fibers, the stale scent of sweat and skin already taking over. Earlier, you pressed your nose into your shoulder, checking. The sweet floral deodorant from days ago (you think) has spoiled into something sour.  

Each day and sleepless night blend together. They become hard to tell apart, except when the phone rings. Work is calling again—probably to ask when you’ll be back in or to terminate you. You know you should care—you do care! Well, you used to. You liked your job; you were good at it. But does it bring you joy? Right now, does anything?

Everything feels like a chore that you can’t be bothered to attempt. Showering? The thought alone is exhausting. But thinking about the steps that come before the shower is enough to make you sit in your own filth. You reach up absently. Your fingers get lost in the greasy roots and tangle in the mess below. Dandruff flakes dust your pillow. You picked at your scalp while scrolling for hours. Anything to pull you out of this pit you’ve fallen into, for a moment of relief. Your stomach churns each time your tongue touches the slimy coating that has built up on your teeth. Panic spikes at the thought of cavities—the decay, a reminder of neglect. Yet, there you lie, paralyzed by your own anxieties. God, you want to move. You really do. But then you tell yourself, I’ll brush them after I eat, for sure. You know it’s a lie. But it makes the guilt easier to swallow.  

These bouts come and go, pulled in by a force you can’t escape—because you are the force. Like the moon dragging in the tides, summoning waves too strong to withstand. When you’re up, you trick yourself into thinking that you have it all together, like you’ve cracked some secret code. You throw yourself into work, into people, an endless loop on performance mode. Blissfully numb. Until the crash. The tide swells too high, knocking you under and swallowing you whole. Then you’re here, again. Bedridden. Isolated. Time slips through your fingers. Days, weeks—who knows how long. Until someone notices your absence. Usually, him. Then you have to explain why you vanished and begin to collect the pieces of you that have washed back ashore.

“You should trust Sylus more," your therapist had said, voice gentle but firm. “Let him in during these episodes. He wants to help you.”  

You nodded, pretending to consider it, not missing the way they emphasized the "want to help you" part. But the idea was absurd, laughable. Let Sylus see you like this? No, it’s better this way. You can keep your dignity and him, a win-win situation.

This episode—as your therapist calls it—came at the perfect time. Sylus is away on a business trip, conveniently absent when you’ve sunk to your lowest. He gives you roughly three days of no contact before the constant calls start rolling in. This time, luck was on your side, a twisted kind of luck, but still one that was to your advantage. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror that he’d feel if he saw you like this.

Undeserving. That’s the only word that comes to mind when you think of Sylus, especially in moments like these.

Sylus, the man who has everything—and if he doesn’t, he simply acquires it. Always composed, always in control. He’s the kind of person who seems to glide through life, untouchable. You can’t imagine him unraveling, not like this. No, if he ever stumbled, he’d just power through it. There are no obstacles he can’t overcome.  

Until you.

You are the only thing he can’t fix. A threat to the pristine world he’s built. Thankfully, he hasn’t seen you like this, and he never will. He can’t.

Your therapist says your way of thinking is the problem. You don’t let him in. You don’t give him a chance to understand. Your therapist doesn’t know Sylus like you do. What if he does understand—but secretly believes you’re too much? And knowing Sylus, what if he doesn’t leave, but worse—stays out of obligation? Out of pity?

Your chest begins to tighten at the thought, your heartbeat picking up. You’d rather disappear completely than let him see you like this.

But before you can spiral any further, the doorbell rings.

[littlemissmiller]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑫𝒐𝒐����

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: (au) (Joel is dad to a 9 year old Sarah) Joel has been your neighbor for some time and you and him have become friendly. In an attempt to spend more time to him (and a desire to show off your summer body) you throw a pool party…

Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, fluff, friends to lovers, use of nicknames (babydoll, baby, darling), p in v, ass eating, cowgirl style, fingering, couch sex, porn with a plot

Work count: 4.1k

A/N: hi all! the official first day of summer is today and i got inspired by a pool party i went to with my mans so i just had to write this cute lil smutty, fluffy story. i have a billy request coming and hopefully i get ch 3 of Summer Highs out soon (i know i said it would be soon don’t trust me on a release date which is why i don’t do them) ok that’s it! much love and enjoy ❣︎

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It’s always a hot summer in Texas. It would feel weird if it wasn’t, but this year it feels like the earth is a legit bun in the oven. The whole neighborhood is feeling the heat, so given you have a pool in your backyard, you invite people over for a summer kickoff. Of course it has nothing to do with the fact you are desperate to see Joel Miller in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. From just his work shirts alone, you could see how tight his shirt hugged his muscles. How toned his back was whenever he would sweat through it doing yard work. You would always wave over to him from across the street, occasionally bring him water or lemonade while he worked. And today, your excuse for seeing him was to invite him to your pool party. You catch him outside after work, in his garage tinkering around under his truck. You stroll across the street and walk in. You knock on the side of the garage walls and Joel slides out from under his Silverado.

“Well hey there!” He beams, striding towards you

“What’s up cowboy.”

“Not much, waiting for Sarah to come home from soccer camp.” He informs

“Oh keeping her busy.”

“Well between so and the library reading contest she’s more or less keeping herself busy. Determined to get those Astro tickets. I promised we would do a road trip and she reaches thirty books by the end of June and wins the two tickets. She’s already at twenty five. She has a whole strategy.”

“Wow. Good for her. Well I hope she’s not too busy this weekend…” you state

“Oh yeah why’s that” he smiles, leaning his arm against the garage and above your head. You feel totally lost here with him looking at you how he is. His big brown eyes, so curious and pleasant, simply wondering what you have to say. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Well I sent out an evite a little bit ago, but I wanted to come tell you in person that I’m having a pool party Saturday. I thought we could all beat the heat ya know.”

“Yeah we‘ll be free.” He steps back, taking a rag from his waist and wiping his hands. He heads toward his garage fridge and gets out two bottles of water, offering you one.

“Thanks. So you do have your own water.”

“Yeah I always keep that fridge full. Especially with Sarah and her friends I practically always got Gatorade.”

“So you just like my water better?”

Joel smiles at you, combing his hair with his fingers. You watch his muscles flex and wish that you can be wrapped in them. He starts to look through his tool box and nods.

“You could say that. So Saturday you said? What time?”

“It starts at 12, but you can stay for as long as you’d like.”

“I’ll talk to Sarah, but I have a feeling she'll say yes. She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take.”

“I’m sure.”

“We’ll see ya Saturday then.” He winks and disappears back under his truck

You waltz out of the garage and back to your house. You trot inside gleefully and close the door behind you. You could jump, squeal, practically combust. Not only did you just figure out Joel had his own drinks on deck whenever he works, but always accepts an offer from you no matter what. God he must like you. He must. You hope you're not thinking too much into it but, you couldn’t help but think when he said “She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take…” he really was talking about himself. You bite your lip and roll your eyes. You want him so badly. So bad you feel like you are going to explode. You lean your head back against the door and sigh.

Saturday comes around soon enough, and you spend the whole evening and next morning preparing for the day. You clean your house, chop lettuce, tomatoes and onions for burgers, cut up a watermelon and make a macaroni salad. Even though you hadn’t explicitly asked for his help, you had a feeling Joel would want to help grill and you’d gladly take it. You prepare a cooler with a few beers and some water and put it in your garage fridge. Next you set up the pool area. You lay the cushions on the pool chairs, unwind the umbrellas and set out a few pool noodles. Everything looks perfect and your first guests start arriving around 12:08. More and more people arrive and at around 1:30, you finally see Joel and Sarah pulling up. He walks in with his own cooler and a swim bag. He approaches you while Sarah runs off to the other neighborhood kids.

“Well hey cowboy! Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah sorry we are late. Work called last minute and I had to help them order some more flooring for our site.”

“No worries. But these people are getting hungry and maybe you could help grill. I hate to put you to work…”

“Ain’t no trouble darling.”

“Ok I’m going to change. The patties are already formed, just in the fridge.”

Joel follows you inside and heads into your kitchen, poking his head in the fridge. You walk upstairs to your bedroom and change into your swimsuit. You had gone out that week and picked out a new suit. It was white, a two piece, the edge frilled, and it shaped your figure so well. You spin around and admire how it sits on your ass. The back had a cheeky build, and totally gave the viewer an idea of how your cute little ass looks. Not to mention the way it rides up, exposing your cheeks slightly, it’s perfect and you can’t wait for Joel to see you in it. You put your jean shorts back on and find one of your white, open-knit, pool coverup and a red, and a worn USA baseball cap. You pull your ponytail through the loop of your hat and spin around one last time.

Rushing down the stairs, only to find Joel already outside starting the grill. You sigh in disappointment. You take a beer from your fridge and try to open in on your own. Then Joel walks back inside. Even though your back is turned to him, he can tell you are struggling.

“Need help?”

You jump and turn around, your tits bouncing slightly as you turn, which Joel notices. He also seems slightly speechless as you turn to face him. His sentence cut off, face frozen, as if you stole the words from his mouth.

“Uh yeah, thanks.” You hand him the bottle and he takes it, uncapping it like it’s nothing. He hands it back to you and you take a swig.

“Oh hey so because I was so outta sorts getting out the door, I totally forgot to get sunscreen. You got any, Sarah is itching to get in the pool.”

“Of course” you run back up to your bathroom, find a 50 SPF bottle and head back down stairs. Joel calls out to his daughter and she comes rushing inside. At the sight of your face she enthusiastically calls your name and rushes towards you. You hold her in your arms.

“Hey sunshine!”

“We brought brownies!” She proclaims

“Oh did your dad make them?”

“Mhmm. Well he helped, I really was the baker!” She insists

Joel lets out a playful chuckle and rolls his eyes in amusement.

“Yeah, especially with all those eggshells you had to fish out?”

“At least I know how to preheat the oven.” She claps back

Joel smirks and then looks at you. He has always appreciated how loving and kind you are to Sarah. He appreciates knowing that when she’s with you, she’s in more than good hands. And you adored her as well.

“Hey! let her get that sunscreen on ya.”

“I’m fine! I’ll stay in the shade!” Sarah protests but before she can scurry off you’re already squirting it into your hand, applying it to her shoulders.

“You know you don’t have to listen to him. I thought you’re supposed to be the fun one!” She whines, and you smear her face. She scrunches it up in displeasure.

“I am the fun one. This is called fun in the sun, sunshine.”

She groans and pulls her face away.

“You know I think I saw a bomb pop with your name on it out in the garage fridge, if you can still hang in there for one more second.” You promise. “Ok there. Top shelf in the garage. Bring a few for the other kids. Ok?”

“Yes!” She states firmly and rushes off into the garage

“She just loves to keep ya busy…”

“Tell me about it.” Joel rolls his eyes “you uh…you look nice…” he swallows nervously

“Thanks, it’s new. I got it for today actually.”

“Oh really. Trying to impress someone?” He asks

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You quip back, smirking “how’s those burgers coming along”

“Grills still heating up, this is really nice of ya to invite everyone. Sarah hasn’t really had much pool time with soccer.”

“Well you two are invited over anytime.”

“Appreciate the offer. What else do you need for these burgers?”

“Here” you state, turning to the fridge and opening it.

You grab the toppings, cheese, and condiments and follow him outside. As Joel grills, you make your way around, chatting with your fellow neighbors. Eventually you get in the pool with a playful “go on sugar, I’ll holler at ya when they are ready” from Joel. As you strip off your top and shorts, Joel checks you out from across the pool. He can’t help but let his eyes linger on the curves of your body, the way your bikini bottoms hug your ass, and how nice and perky your boobs sit on your chest.

You notice him checking you out, your own eyes hidden behind your sunglasses. You try not to look so much, but with his back to you, it’s easier to admire his broad shoulders. And you have to admit, Joel is absolutely radiating domesticity. You could easily get used to this sight. Sarah splashes around you, pretending to be a mermaid looking for pearls and you throw sinking rings for her to dive for. Joel catches you playing with Sarah, and smiles. The smell of hamburger meat fills the air and Joel calls to you. You throw some more rings in to keep Sarah occupied and head out of the pool.

“How are these, little lady?” Joel asks as you approach

“Fantastic! Let’s put cheese on half of them.”

“You got it!”

People start to gather for food and you help Sarah dry off and get her a plate.

“Cheese or no cheese baby?” Joel asks Sarah as she approaches the grill

“Cheeeese!” She smiles, showing off her big smile to her dad

“What about you doll?” He asks you

“Same as her.”

After you eat, you wait a while to get back in the pool. You lay out with a few of the girls from the neighborhood Wine Club. As you chat, Joel admires the way the sun glimmers off your body. With most of the food served, Joel joins his daughter in the pool. You watch as he takes off his shirt, gawking over his bare chest. His shoulders cut into his neck so sharp and clean and you can help but want to feel how strong he is. And You smirk to yourself, happy to finally see him exactly how you wanted to. And he looks damn good in his turquoise-green trunks.

“I’ll be right back…” you excuse yourself, striding over to Joel, swaying your hips

“Can I get you a drink? I’m getting another beer, and maybe one of those brownies I heard about.”

“Oh I want one!” Sarah exclaims

“If you get out you’re getting more sunscreen on ya babe..” Joel promises

“She can bring me one and I can eat in the pool!”

“No, no baby. C’mon.” He argues, lifting Sarah out of the pool and onto the pavement.

“Awww!” Sarah whines, swinging her arms and legs.

You hold her hand and take her to the food, you grab a towel, wrap her in it and get her a small plate. You place a brownie on it and hand it to her.

“Can I have two?” She bats her eyes

“Go ask your daddy…”

She waddles over to Joel, squatting down to ask him. He rolls his eyes and nods and she trots back to you.

“He said I can!”

As the afternoon turns into evening, more and more people head back to their homes and pretty soon the sun is setting. You start to clean up, picking up plates and empty bottles and taking them inside the house.

The last few neighbors pop in to thank you and say goodbye and behind them is Joel.

“Hey…need some help?” Joel asks you

“Oh you’ve done more than enough. Y’all headed out?”

“I uh...sent Sarah home with the Adler’s. They said they’d watch her for the evening until I got back.“

“Oh! Well I would have loved to say goodbye to her.” You frown

“I bet she would have too, but she passed out on my knee even with everyone running around. Danny wanted to get his Ma home anyways…” he explains

He walks up to the kitchen counter and places a few empty beer bottles down. You smile and thank him. He helps bring in a few more bottles and follows you around with a trash bag as you pick up plates and plastic silverware. After everything is cleaned up and the pool is closed up, you and Joel head inside.

“Well I don’t wanna keep you from Sarah much longer.”

“It’s ok, unless that’s your way of kindly kicking me out, then by all means I’ll head out.” He smirks

“No no, you can stay if you like…”

“You sure?”

You nod and he closes the sliding door leading out to the pool, locking it.

“I don’t have much beer left, but you seem like a whiskey guy to me.” You imply

“I sure do.”

You pour him a glass and he leans over your counter. He smiles and he holds the glass to his lips and sips.

“I really appreciate ya Joel.”

“It’s no trouble.”

There is a brief moment of silence as you take a sip of your whiskey and gaze into his big brown eyes. You can’t help but feel he’s looking at you in the same way. A wave of desire washes over you and just as you're about to speak, possibly trying to make a move, Joel strides over to you.

“Ya know if ya ever need my help, I’ll always be willing. Whatever you need…”

“You’re too sweet Joel, I feel like I need to make it up to you.”

“Maybe you can, baby…” the words slip from his lips and steal your breath away. You gasp and move in closer to him.

“I’m sorry, can I call you baby?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Yeah? Well then baby, kiss me…”

You lean up, cupping his face and pressing his lips against your own. He holds your face in return, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks and moaning into your mouth. Your hands move to cup his neck as you move your face, deepening the kiss. Joel clutches your jaw, pulling you closer and raising you onto your tippy toes. You chuckle against him. This is finally happening. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve dreamed of. Ever since him and Sarah moved in, you have wanted him. It was no secret. Perhaps that’s why the Adler’s offered to watch Sarah. To give you this moment. And you’re ever so thankful.

Joel’s calloused palms move to your waist, slowly trailing down your body, feeling the sides of your bare skin. You hadn’t bothered putting your swim shirt back on after the pool and you were grateful. You welcome his fingers and let out a girlish giggle, his feather light touch overwhelming.

“How late do you wanna stay?”

Joel checks his watch. It’s 8:10.

“I told the Adlers I would be back by 9 so I mean…is that enough time for you…”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.” You smile against his face, kissing his cheek.

With that he returns his mouth to your own and he moves to cup under your shorts. He squeezes your ass and moves his hands under your thighs. In one swift motion he picks you up and is moving you both to your couch. You and him stumble into it and he sits down with you on his lap. You gasp and pull back.

“Ok that was fucking hot Miller, my god could you get any sexier.”

“You know what’s sexy…” he implies, pulling on the front of your bikini top, snapping the strap

“You like it?”

“You look like an absolute snack in this thing darling. And your ass, fuck I couldn’t stop looking at it by the pool.” he pants

“Glad you noticed. I was trying to impress you if you didn’t pick up on that when I told you.”

“Oh I did, and it worked. It definitely worked.” He sighs, sealing his words with another searing kiss.

You rock against him as his mouth moves with yours. You simply can’t get enough of him like this and he desperately wants to devour you. His hands wrap around your back, pulling you flush against his chest. He moves to squeeze your ass again, fingers dancing underneath your jeans. He grabs and gropes you, causing you to whine and whimper into his mouth.

“I love those pretty little noises you make, baby. I can’t wait to hear what other noises you make for me.” He whispers

He pulls at the hem of your jeans, tugging on them until they slide down your ass. You stand up, pulling them down your smooth legs. He starts rubbing the back of your thighs, moving his hands up and down and settling them underneath the cheek of your ass. He pulls your waist close to his face, your pelvis practically grinding up against his nose and lips. You delicately place your hands on his shoulders as he admires you.

“Let me see that cute little ass of yours again, babydoll”

Then suddenly you are spun around and he grips the strings of your bikini bottoms slowly pulling them down. As he does, he kisses the bear skin that’s being revealed to him until his lips are consuming your ass. You let out a sigh, arching your back slightly as his mouth finds your core. He dives in, placing his hands on the meat of your ass and nuzzling into your cheeks. His soft lips began to kiss your folds, and you buck up against his face. He growls against you, groping your cheeks and diving in to taste you. His mouth and tongue finds your clit and he begins to lap at it. He’s so hungry for you. So desperate to drink up your juices like a sweet nectar. Your legs quiver slightly and Joel notices. He wraps his hands around the front of your thighs, steadying you , while simultaneously pulling you closer to his mouth. He pulls back quickly, replacing his mouth with his fingers. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves feverishly, cooing as you moan and whine.

“Tastes so good. So fucking good baby.” He whispers.

He mouths at your pussy, his saliva mixing with your juices, making you so wet. You’re throbbing into his mouth and he places a few chase kisses to your cunt, before pulling away. He takes his shirt off and tosses it aside. He gives your core a few more open mouth kisses then spins you around once more, and you take off your top. You slowly pull the dainty string, letting your bikini top fall off you and onto his lap. He moans, clutching the top in his hand. You move to straddle him and he tosses the top on the ground.

Before you can put your weight on him, he bucks his hips, taking his trunks off. His cock springs forward and he takes his incredible length in his hand. He slowly pumps himself and you lower your ass onto his thighs. You don’t quite sink into him yet, wanting to appreciate this moment with him. He cups your ass and you clasp the back of his neck. He leans forward to press feather light kisses along your jaw and neck. Then his actions get more aggressive as he starts to manipulate your breasts. You mewl and arch into him. Your entire body starts to slowly rock against his, teasing him with your wet core on his cock.

“Fuck I want you. I can feel ya. So wet.”

You nod, biting your lip and Joel loves his hand down in between your legs again. He plays with your clit for a moment, before sinking a finger in you. You buck up on him, and steady yourself on his shoulders. He pumps his finger into you, loving the way your heat and juices consume his digit. He adds another one, and you feel so incredibly full.

“You ready for me?” Joel murmurs against your neck.

“Mhmm, please Joel. I’ve wanted this for so long!” You gasp as he removes his fingers. He wraps his hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance. The tip pokes in, then you engulf the rest, taking his full length in you. He lets out a staggering moan as he works his lips down to your collarbone and valley of your breasts. You move your hips, slowly grinding on his cock and your tits bounce in his face. He chuckles and looks up at you. He sits back, holding your hips as you ride him.

“Fucking look at you girl. So gorgeous my god.”

You giggle in return, feeling up your body and playing with your boobs.

“That’s it, put on a little show for me.”

You bounce on him, continuing to feel your body and then you touch your clit, swirling it around in between your fingers. You let out a long, breathy moan, tilting your head back.

“Mmm Joel, Joel Joel Joel….” You hang his name as he squeezes your ass harshly. He helps you move, shoving your body onto his cock and moving his hands to hold your hips.

“That’s it. Oh my god you’re perfect…”

You learn back slightly, rolling your hips and tummy. He splays his hands over your waist, his breath hitching. He loves watching you move. He loves how you feel and needs more. Joel moves expertly to stand up, keeping himself buried inside you and, placing you on your back, you yelp as he lays you on the couch. He dives in for your lips again. He crawls on top of you, wasting no time shoving his length into you. Cupping your face. He rocks his hips, his cock filling you up once again. He speeds up, drilling into you. Your legs fold up to your chest, giving him better access to your pussy. As he thrusts into you, his beautiful eyes meet your own, his gaze thirsty for more. He rests his forehead against you and pants.

“You close?”

“If you touch me again. Play with me a little then I’ll come… please Joel…”

“Yeah? Like this baby?”

He aggressively rubs your core, his hand in sync with his hips. You nod and let out a series of incoherent babbles. You move against his hand and cock, a pool of ecstasy filling your stomach and drowning your senses. Your heat builds and builds until you break. You clench down around him, your breath leaving you as Joel’s mouth falls onto your own. With a few more of his own pumps, his seed is spilling inside you.

“Oh shit” he curses “fuck baby it’s just you felt so good shit I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine I’m on the pill.”

“You sure it’s ok?

You nod and he kisses you deeply, lips pressing firmly on your own. You moan, holding his face.

“You just might be the most perfect thing on the planet, ya know that?”

“Whatever you say.” you chuckle

“I know this may come off as formal given what we just did, but I really wanna take you out for a drink sometime. Like an actual date. If you want?”

“Yes Joel, I’d like that very much.”

꧁•☀︎•꧂

[lanabuckybarnes]

Damn bear.

18+ Minors DNI

Sgt Barnes wins you a bear at a carnival. What he doesn’t expect nor like is when you give it more attention, Bucky shows you that he’s better than the bear.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Jealous Buck, Public Oral, Stuffed bear being abused at the end (you’ll see), filthy Bucky, if there are any more let me know

It had been a fantastic day, the sun shining high in the sky and laughter bubbling from you both. Now as the moon began to rise the carnival had a whole different atmosphere. The big wheel and the rides surrounding it had lit brightly at the first sight of darkness, the stalls had done the same.

It couldn’t have been more romantic if you tried. Bucky slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he weaved through the crowds of people, eventually you two landed at the ball toss game.

“How much?” Bucky asked, glancing back at you with a confident grin.

“$1 for three shots sir” the older gentleman behind the counter spoke, reaching out his hand to let Bucky place a crumpled note in it.

Bucky threw the shots with ease, hitting every target bang on, much to the man’s dismay.

He’d let you pick your favourite bear, a blue one, one that matched the colours of his eyes. Grasping your hand he pulled you along beside him again, eventually finding a small space between the carnival rides.

He placed a kiss to your head, holding you close to him “you like it?” He asks, tapping the bears head with a long finger. You hummed in response with a nod, your eyes continuing to look over the bears features. Bucky pouted slightly, a slight twinge of something burning in his stomach.

He found it a little ridiculous that he was jealous of a bear but your eyes should’ve been on him, not an inferior stuffed toy. Suddenly he was intent on making you realise he was all you need.

His hand tilted your chin up to face him and he leaned in, sealing your lips in a passionate kiss that took you by surprise.

“Buck!” You squeaked once he let your mouth go, trailing his lips down your neck instead.

“Hmm” he hummed, sucking a small mark on your pulse point as his hands wandered places they shouldn’t have been “Need you”.

“Buck not here, people will notice” you gasped as his thumbs looped around the waistband of your panties, pulling them to your ankles.

“You better be quiet then” he chuckled with a wiggle of his brows; pecking your lips again before taking off his military hat and placing it on your head gently “keep that safe for me” he flashed you a lopsided grin and then he was on his knees.

He pushed your dress up to your waist and kissed up your thigh until he reached your mound. His eyes flickered up to yours as he watched you bite your lip in anticipation, watching him sneak closer to your warmth… then he moved, kissing down your other leg.

You tried your best to hold the whine from falling from your lips at his teasing, desperately trying to make it look like you weren’t craving this as much as he was but the way your hips jerked as he avoided your pussy, betrayed how you felt.

“Aww sweetness, look at you” his hands shifted your thighs apart slightly, eyes boring between them at the slick that had pooled and slipped from your folds “so fucking desperate” he growled planting one last kiss, right on your pubic bone before latching his mouth onto you like a starved man.

He worked fast, his tongue focusing on your little clit while a finger slipped between your folds, fucking you quickly. You moaned against the bears fluffy head, gripping it tightly against your mouth in a desperate attempt at muffling your moans.

Bucky groaned against you when his eyes looked up at you; the way your eyes watched him pleadingly, that fucking bear over your mouth, but what got him really riled was the way his cap hung loosely on your head. The thought of you wearing it around had him feral, the thought of other men trying to get a glimpse of you only to see his hat firmly planted on top of your head and your legs wobbling while you walked. He briefly considered walking around with your slick still glistening on his face, everyone would know he’d made you like that, so wobbly and unable to stand because of his mouth. He smiled against you as he pushed a second finger in, curling them against your sweet spot. That bear could never do that could he?

You eyes flickered over to the crowd of people just at the other end of the alley, they were getting closer and closer, you didn’t doubt if they weren’t so engrossed in one another and looked around they’d see your fucked out face as Bucky’s tongue delved deep into places it should only be in behind closed doors. A fresh flow of warmth ran down you at the thought of being caught, that knotting in your stomach that had been building up was gradually becoming too much.

“You close?” Bucky groaned against you, fingers now doubling their effort. You nodded wildly, his cap almost falling from your head but you caught it quickly, in the process of catching it you jerked forward and your clit graced against Bucky’s teeth. It was enough to send your orgasm crashing down hard.

One of your hands gripped at the stuffed bear while the other pushed Bucky closer towards you, riding your orgasm out on his face.

“You alright?” He asked once he stood up to full height again, his thumb running over your cheek softly, you could only nod and roll your head back against the metal of the ride behind you, your body still raking with aftershocks of your orgasm.

His smile was smug as his fingers wrapped around the bear he’d won for you, pulling it from your lips and kissing you softly, arousal swelled in his own belly when you moaned at the taste of yourself. What you hadn’t expected was him to trail the soft toy down to your heat and wipe it along your soaked folds, the cold plastic nose grazing your over sensitive nub causing you to jerk harshly.

“Fucking bear, he couldn’t eat you out like that could he?” Bucky smirked against your mouth, kissing you again before helping you pull up your panties.

With his hand interlocked with yours you left the alley, his hat still on your head and the hints of your juices against his lips. The bear, which you found out was the reason for him pulling such an orgasm from you, lay discarded in the alley. The only bear you’d ever need was Bucky.

-

This is… wow, even I’m impressed at just how devious this is.

Hope you enjoyed x

[koalayoo]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

michael kaiser x gn!reader

content: toxic! bf kaiser, hints of possessiveness, jealousy, insecurity, vague descriptions of his backstory, suggestive, spit kink, exhibitionism kinda, bro does not know how to show love healthily

author's note: tried guys, i couldn't get kaiser being sort of an ass out of my mind, he's a lot tamer than i wanted though. let's also not talk about how i've been gone for like a year.

wc. 1.5k

There was no pretending with Kaiser; he was toxic, and he wore it like a crown.

When you watched his games, you watched him hold himself on his pride. He had this look of self-assurance, a real “I know I’m better than you” stare that pierced those around him, opponents and teammates alike.

However, he was different with you.

Every minute that passed, every goal he scored, his gaze drifted to you. A miniscule lilt of his lips or smile of his eyes would catch your attention and you’d reciprocate all the same. And the reporters knew. Cameras would zoom in on the interaction between you two, commentators swooning over the one who managed to capture the Michael Kaiser’s heart. The man who lives off of the ethos of being the best. So when he scores the winning goal, it’s not a surprise when Kaiser and his teammates rejoice and the stadium bursts into celebration like a wildfire, human fireworks jumping for joy. The place was deafening and you felt electric. That was your man.

You and the other WAGs made your way onto the field. You adorned a copy of Kaiser’s shirt, signature 10 plastered on your back and the name Kaiser claiming your entire being. Congratulations were made to the other players as you scoured your way through the mass of people, trying to find your boyfriend, who stood in the centre of it all basking in the glory. He was surrounded by a throng and you found yourself second guessing everything for a minute.

There was Kaiser, renowned as a German prodigy and then there was you. A number of beautiful news women dressed to the nines stood next to him desperate for any word he would say for their channel. You saw his blue eyes land on you and he attempted to make his way over before being stopped by the same hoard of people. Same group of women attempting to press up next to him, rubbing up against his sweaty body, smelling his deep musky scent. 

You left.

To a different side of the field, away from the commotion, closer to other players but away nonetheless. It was times like this that you realised the disparity between you two. He was a god in the soccer world and you were some regular person that managed to capture his “cold, imperceptible” heart, or whatever the media wanted to paint. They knew how to be cruel too. 

“Kaiser Finds Love: Is This The End Of His Legacy?”

“Fans Label Michael Kaiser’s Girlfriend as a Gold Digger After Recent Scandal”

“Trouble in Paradise? Michael Kaiser and his Girlfriend Seem to be Calling it Quits”

Soccer fans hated you. You were ordinary. A sign that any one of them could have been Kaiser’s but he chose you. People hated it. You didn’t deserve the lavish life being Kaiser’s guaranteed: Michelin star restaurants, paid vacations, VIP treatment. You agreed, you didn’t deserve this. You lived the life of a woman who got it too good to be true and you’d come to the conclusion often that this life wasn’t meant to last. Kaiser was always going to leave you.

You shied away into yourself, continuing to praise and make small talk with the other guys to shield yourself from feelings of insecurity but Kaiser always knew best. Kaiser always knew how you felt and that fuelled his hubris. No one knew you like he did. That you felt inferior to him. That you needed him to feel good about yourself. When you felt an arm snake around your shoulder and pull you onto a firm, broad chest, you knew exactly who it was.

You looked up, met his eyes, and looked away just as fast. His face slowly creeped closer to yours, his face finding home in the crevice of your neck, his nose trailing against the skin behind your ear. He smirked.

“If you can’t handle the spotlight, then maybe you shouldn’t stand next to me.” Kaiser whispered mockingly into your ear.

You eyed him from the side, surprised. “I- I just…” You sigh, trying to put some distance between you both. “...got in my own head is all.” Your eyes wander down, hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

Kaiser chuckled, head leaning over your frame. “Is that so?” He teased in a sing-song manner. “Should get all up on mine.” He sneered, grabbing a strand of hair and playing with it, making you look up. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “‘M joking baby, you know that.” 

You hum, looking back up at him, finally making eye contact that lasts longer than a millisecond. He smiles, looking less like a dick and more like your boyfriend. You want to smile back but then you feel the flashes of camera light around you, the bright white stadium lights seeming jarring and suddenly all your feelings of self doubt come back. He notices, like always, and laughs lightly holding no bite.

“Fuck… I love whenever you look at me like that,” He murmured, eyes squinting slightly as he takes you in. 

“Like what?”

“Like, that. With your self-consciousness, that stupidly meek look. Like I want anyone but you.”

It wasn’t hard to understand. You needed Kaiser more than he needed you. At least you thought that. But Kaiser knew what love was, and… what love wasn’t.

Love wasn’t his mom abandoning him as a child, love wasn’t his fathers palm making contact with his unmarred skin, love wasn’t his father howling anything but his name, love wasn’t the rugged, dingy house he grew up in with a scrawny blanket for comfort, love wasn’t the “work” his father made him do just to survive, love wasn’t contained in the fingers that wrapped around his own neck.

Love remained trapped in the shreds of leather in his childhood football, in the ink injected into his skin, entwined within the blue roses displayed against it. Love was the endurance he held, the will to continue to live. Love was the way you held him every night, how your fingers tugged against his blonde-blue hair to pull his head up, in which your lips softly met his when his mind began to wander.

Love was you.

But by god was Michael terribly woeful at showing it.

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you looked away bashfully unsure whether to take that as something to appreciate. He grabs your fidgety hands and holds them in his. “You know, jealousy looks good on you but… devotion does too.” An eyebrow raised, your face showing your confusion. “Come on, you know what I mean. Show everyone you’re mine,” He leans in closer, his nose rubbing against yours affectionately. “and that maybe I’m yours.”

Cerulean eyes filled with a bit of insanity and hunger trail around you both. It didn’t take a genius to realise that when Kaiser’s mouth tilted up obnoxiously that everyone's eyes were on you. You stole a glance and saw large professional cameras and phones pointed in your direction. A part of you screams surely they weren’t aimed at you but for Kaiser to be showing this much affection in public? That turns your thoughts straight.

“Micha…” Your voice tried to warn affectionately, almost inaudibly. “We can’t…”

His hands grab you by your waist and press you against him. “Why can’t we? Can’t handle a little challenge?” He taunts. “Tsk, tsk, thought my girl was better than that.”

You place your hands against his hard chest, musculature felt beneath your finger tips that took years to cultivate. 

“I-” 

“You?” He lifts your hands to rest on his shoulders and leans in impossibly closer. “You think too much, that’s what.” His lips begin to graze against yours and you begin to blink slower, feeling an invigorating haze of heat begin to trail over your body with a gentle caress like a cloud drifting through you. 

“Live a little. Kiss me like you mean it, right here, right now. Let’s show everyone, hmm?”

He waits for you to move first, to show that you actually want it and when your eyes finally flutter close his warm lips capture yours in a soft kiss. It makes your mind feel misty. He amps up the pressure and pushes himself into you. Fingers dig presser indents into your hips. Hands trail onto his neck, and he notes how he likes these ones better. 

You’re distinctly aware of everyone in the stadium, quite certain you heard a few gasps and camera shutters in the distance. You wish you could say you didn’t care but you did and reluctantly pull away causing Kaiser to furrow his brows with a pout. He was tired of talking, tired from the game, tired of waiting. His calloused fingers gripped your chin sharply, causing you to look up at him.

“Open.” He commanded.

You knew exactly what was happening. 

Hesitant. Nervous. Inadequate.

He was waiting.

You opened your mouth, looking up at him expectantly. A glob of spit left his mouth like a thick drop of rain, slow and deliberate. Intimate. His gaze never left yours. The action was filled with defiance, superiority, impatience. When it entered your mouth he lifted your chin up, closing your mouth. A smug smile made its way to his face.

“Nothing could ever make me give up on this.”

reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated! this is my original work.

[millers-girl]

in the quiet

chapter 8 of willow & whiskey

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: it took five days for you to tell Joel you couldn't trust him again, but only one for you to desperately beg him to stay.

warnings/tags: age gap, adult language, blood and violence, injury, stab wound

word count: 5.5k

series masterlist

It took five days to get to the Firefly base at the University of Eastern Colorado.

Five easy days, Ellie had called them, counting the lack of Infected and ambushes as a win. But for you, they were five long, grueling days – sleepless, aching, every mile dragging beneath the weight of Joel’s actions.

You hadn’t lied when you said you understood why Joel made the decision to stay behind in Jackson and hand you and Ellie off to Tommy for the last leg of the trip. He thought he was doing the right thing; thought he was protecting you both, from the inevitable fallout of letting people get close. 

But understanding and being okay with it were two different things.

You weren’t okay. You weren’t even close.

You were still angry, disappointed, even heartbroken – though you’d never admit it to him. The resentment curdled inside you, hot and sour, spilling into every interaction. 

You made a point of keeping your distance: falling behind him on the trail, slowing your steps until the gap widened between you two, then speeding up when he deliberately hung back to match your pace. You dodged his painful attempts at tentative small talk. You only spoke when necessary – and really only to take extra watch shifts or chores to avoid downtime with Joel.

And Joel noticed. Of course he noticed.

He began quietly hovering, staying close enough to be protective, but clearly unsure how to bridge the emotional gap between you two. He kept trying small ways to show he was there – offering to carry something for you (you insisted you were fine), adjusting your pack straps when you weren’t paying attention (of course you were, but you pretended not to notice), and even sliding an extra blanket your way at night (you took it, mumbling a stiff thanks that tasted like ash in your mouth).

You were hurting, and you were guarded. Every night, you turned your back to him by the fire, wiping at your eyes in what you thought was secret. Every morning, you steeled yourself before meeting his gaze, if you even did.

“Don’t worry about me,” you told him flatly one afternoon, when he tried to offer a hand up a steep incline. “I can handle myself.”

He let his arm fall, silently resigning.

On the fourth night, to both your surprise, Joel finally decided to say something. 

That day, Ellie had chosen to ride with Joel, her small hands clutching his jacket as she leaned her cheek against his back, giggling at whatever story he was telling. You’d trailed behind on Orion, watching from a distance as the two of them shared a softness you couldn’t bring yourself to touch.

Joel’s lips had twitched upward at her giggles and when he looked back, he caught you just as you scrubbed a tear from your cheek. His smile instantly fell as he watched you avert your eyes to the first road ahead.

Now, here he was, watching you take first watch, Ellie already fast asleep, and in the dim glow of the fire, he finally had the courage to ask, “Are you ever gonna talk to me again?” 

You turned, meeting his gaze over the flickering flames. Your chest tightened at the hope woven in the question, the way it softened his rough edges. This exact tone was what got you in the first place. So, now, you forced a shrug. 

“What’s there to talk about?” you asked, voice clipped and hollow, matching the tone he had taken on those first few weeks traveling together. 

He flinched at the coldness. He hated hearing it coming out of your mouth, replacing that lighthearted, playful and sweet tone that was your default.

“I’m… sorry.” 

You’d imagined him saying those words a hundred times over the past four days, dreamed of them like they would magically fix everything. Instead, they only made your heart clench tighter. 

You looked away, the fire’s heat barely touching the chill settling into your bones now. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s not,” he insisted.

And for whatever reason, that was what set you off – where did he get off trying to make everything right now? Trying to pretend like him leaving hurt him as much as it did you? Like it was the toughest decision he ever made? 

Your eyes snapped back at him, anger rising sharp and bitter. “Why does it matter?” you bit out. “You made it very clear we’re not family. So why are we even having this conversation?” 

“I was wrong,” he admitted, words landing heavy between you. “I just want to explain why I thought it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to leave you, I just – I didn’t know what else to do.”

To his surprise, you said, “I understand why you did it.” 

His brows lifted, hopeful. “You do?” 

You gave a sharp nod. “You were scared – scared you were getting too close to us, starting to care, worried about losing us like… like you lost Sarah – ” Joel’s eyes darkened at the mention, but he didn’t interrupt. “I get it. But I never would’ve made that decision… Ellie is my Sarah. I love her, I’d do anything for her. And I’m scared every single day of losing her. But I’m never gonna leave. 

“I’ve protected her for fourteen years and I’ll protect her until I die. She’s my sister. My responsibility. Everything I do is for her, and you…” You weren’t sure if this was the right time to bring it up but the words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Look, I respect you. I care for you, if that wasn’t abundantly clear already. But you have a habit of self-sabotaging, and this last time really hurt Ellie… and it hurt me. So, when this is over and we get back to Jackson… I’m gonna ask Tommy to find me and Ellie a house to stay in.”

Joel paused for a moment, frown deepening as he pointed out, “You already have a house.” 

“We can’t stay there.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I can’t trust you not to leave again.” The words fell heavy in the night air. “You dumped us on Tommy like we were a problem, Joel. Like the last half a year didn’t mean shit.” You shook your head. “I don’t care that you changed your mind thirty minutes before we left. It doesn’t change anything. We’re creatures of habit, us three. You always leave and we always get left behind.”

His voice cracked. “I’m not leavin’. Not this time.” 

You met his gaze across the fire, your own breaking under the weight of it. “I don’t believe you.” 

A twig snapped in the woods beyond, and both of you jerked toward the sound. Instinct surged through your veins like electricity – you raised your rifle; Joel reached for the knife at his ankle.

After a pause, a fawn emerged from the brush, its delicate legs carrying it past the camp without fear, vanishing into the night.

Your shoulders sagged with relief, though your pulse still thundered in your ears. “Go back to bed,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes on the treeline. “I’ll wake you when it’s time for second watch.” 

Joel hesitated, lingering a moment longer before finally retreating into the warmth of his sleeping bag. You listened to the restless rustle of his tossing and turning until it was time for second watch.

The hours of the next afternoon were spent with you listening to Ellie and Joel converse about the rules of American football. By the time the campus came into view, you were grateful for the distraction. If you had to hear the word “touchdown” one more time, you’d bash your head into a wall.

To your favor, the conversation shifted to college as the three of you passed through the quiet, overgrown campus, your horses’ hooves crunching over old leaves and cracked pavement.

“So people would live here and go to classes and stuff?” Ellie asked, craning her neck to take it all in. “Even though they were adults?” 

Joel gave a small nod, shrugging as his gaze swept the empty grounds. "Sort of adults. I think it was just as much about partying and findin' themselves as anythin' else. Figuring out what they wanted to do with their lives."

"What they wanted to do with their lives..." Ellie echoed thoughtfully, then turned her curious eyes to you. "What did you want to do with your life? Before all this, I mean. Did you ever think about college?"

You flicked a glance at Joel, who was already watching you, then narrowed your eyes at Ellie. "I was seven when the outbreak happened, El. You know this." 

"Yeah, but like… dream job. Didn't you ever think about what you wanted to be when you grew up?"

You hesitated, thoughts swirling in your mind. "Before the outbreak, we used to have these neighbors. The Sinclairs –” 

“The ones with the telescope in their backyard?” Ellie perked up, piecing it together. “The one that got you interested in space?”

You smiled faintly at the memory, nodding. “Mrs. Sinclair used to be a ballerina. And on days that my mom was late coming home from work, she’d send me next door, and Mrs. Sinclair would put on old records and teach me little bits of her old routines. She’d tell me stories about being on stage, about the music and the lights, and I couldn’t get enough of it.

"That year for Halloween, Mom bought me this pink leotard with a little tutu, and Mrs. Sinclair gave me one of her old ballet pins to wear with it – in the shape of a tiny silver slipper. ‘Just to borrow,’ she’d said. ‘Until you earn your own someday.’”

You paused, swallowing the lump rising in your throat, blinking against the prick in your eyes.

“I wore that pin every day for nearly a year after that. Always in my hair, always in a bun. Like if I kept it close enough, maybe it’d come true.”

When you looked back at Ellie, she was smiling softly, almost wistfully. “You would’ve made a great ballerina,” she said gently, making your smile widen.

“The best,” Joel added, his voice quiet but certain. You really met his eyes then – brown and steady and watching you with something careful and protective. Your chest ached. You searched his gaze for some hidden meaning or ulterior motive tucked behind the compliment, but found only honesty. It unsettled you, in a way. You looked away first, breaking the moment, fixing your eyes ahead.

Joel cleared his throat, shifting his weight as if shaking something off. “So I've been thinkin',” he began, addressign Ellie. “I don’t want a sheep ranch, actually. I mean, if I can do anything – well – when I was a kid, I wanted to be a singer.” 

Ellie let out a surprised giggle, and despite yourself, a huff of a single laugh escaped your lips. Joel didn’t miss it. 

“Why’s that funny?” he challenged, though his eyes crinkled faintly.

Ellie grinned. “You gotta sing something now.” 

“No.” 

“Come on,” she pressed. “We’re not gonna laugh.” 

“You’re already laughin’,” he pointed out, deadpan. 

Ellie had no defense, only a shrug. “Well, you’re singin’ for me later. I’m gonna save the fucking world, man. It’s the least you can do for me.” 

After a pause, Joel conceded. “Fair enough.” 

You refused to glance his way after that, but your mind betrayed you, spinning with images of Joel singing. You wondered what his voice sounded like? Probably rough and low.

Wondered what he would sing – country or something softer?

Wondered if he’d ever give in to Ellie’s relentless requests to sing Take On Me – God, you’d heard her play that on the radio for hours back in the QZ. You missed those nights sometimes, when danger felt more distant, and laughter was louder than worry.

But the moment slipped away from you as the Biomedical Sciences building, the unofficial headquarters of the Fireflies, came into view. You slowed instinctively, unease crawling your skin. Something was off – it was barren and quiet. The guard stations had no guards; the inside was eerily still. Joel even found a packing list, like they were leaving. No Fireflies.

The three of you did find a map pinned to the wall, the route traced in red leading to a hospital – St. Mary’s, in Salt Lake City. Your stomach dropped. The journey wasn’t over, not yet.

A scrape of boots echoed from outside. Joel stiffened, pulling you and Ellie back into the shadows. A group of four armed men entered the building, scanning the area. They hadn’t seen you – yet.

“Go,” Joel murmured, ushering you and Ellie toward the back exit. You moved quickly, heart pounding in your ears, weaving through the building until you spilled out near the horses. So close. Almost home free.

Then, Ellie shouted, “Look out!”

A man lunged from the side, swinging a bat at Joel. The crack of wood splintered against a tree snapped through the air. Joel grabbed the man, wrestling him into a brutal chokehold until his body went limp.

You barely had time to process before you turned, saw Joel… and saw the knife lodged into his abdomen, the hilt slick with his blood. Your breath caught, a frozen gasp in your throat. 

Joel’s eyes met yours, steady even now as he gripped the handle and pulled it free. The blade clattered to the ground, darkened with red.

“Oh, my God. Oh. my God,” you whispered, frantic, rushing to him as he staggered. “Joel – ” You helped him up onto Callus with a strength pulled from panic. “Ellie, get on Orion – now!” 

Ellie scrambled onto the horse as the other looters rounded the corner, weapons raised. “They’re coming!”

“We need to go – now!” you shouted, snapping the ewins, urging Callus into a gallop. Behind you, Ellie fired blindly, the crack of her pistol mingling with shouted curses. Your heart pounded so loud it drowned everything else. Hooved thundered beneath you. Trees blurred past. You didn’t dare look back.

Not until the sounds faded behind you, not until the adrenaline finally slowed and cold reality seeped in. Only then did you glance at Joel. He was slumped back, his weight leaning heavily into you. “Joel?” you called, voice shaking.

No response.

“Joel,” you repeated, louder now, as fear clawed up your spine. “Joel, stay with me – please – ”

But his body tipped sideways, sliding off the saddle before you could stop him. He landed in a snowbank with a dull, sickening thud.

“Joel!” You dropped down beside him, knees hitting the snow. “Joel, open your eyes!” Your hands pressed hard against the stab wound, but the blood kept coming, warm and wet beneath your fingers. 

Ellie dismounted, kneeling opposite you, her face pale. “Joel – come on. You gotta get up!”

“I can’t fuckin’ do this without you,” you growled, pushing harder, desperate, the snow beneath him staining red. “Joel, get up!” 

Ellie’s breathing hitched, tears welling in her eyes. “Joel!”

You leaned closer, hands trembling over the wound. “Please,” you whispered, voice cracking as tears lined your own eyes. “Please, Joel. Please get up.”

Somewhere in western Colorado, inside a house long since abandoned––its walls brittle, windows coated with grime, and air thick with mildew––you knelt beside Joel, ripping a spare shirt from your pack into uneven strips. Your hands moved fast but clumsily, fingers trembling as you worked.

The cold bit at your cheeks, but you barely noticed; your pulse thrummed loudly in your ears, drowning out everything but the sight of him bleeding beneath you.

You yanked open his shirt, buttons echoing on the floor as they scattered, and pressed the makeshift cloth firmly against the wound. Joel gasped awake with a sharp inhale, his body aching. His hand shot up, gripping your forearm, knuckles white, skin clammy and pale beneath the flickering light of your flashlight.

Your breath came fast, shallow, a tinge of fear clawing up your throat. “Stay with me, stay with me,” you whispered under your breath, like a mantra, a prayer.

“Holy shit, that’s a lot of blood,” Ellie said, hovering nervously nearby, her voice thin and small.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered, the words spilling out in rhythm with your heartbeat. The cloth was already darkening, and despite everything, you latched onto the silver lining that at least he was conscious – even if his face was contorted in pain.

"Leave," he rasped suddenly, his voice rough and breaking. His brown eyes locked onto yours, urgent. “You have to leave.”

The shock of his words knocked the air from your lungs. “What?” you breathed, stunned.

Ellie was quicker to respond. "Shut up, Joel." 

But Joel wouldn’t let it go, wouldn’t stop. "Take the gun,” he pressed, his grip on you tightening.

"Joel, shut the fuck up!" you snapped, a wild panic edging your voice. What was he saying? How could he say that, after all you’d been through together? "Let me think!"

But Joel was relentless, dragging you closer by the collar of your jacket, his strength frightening despite how much blood he’d lost. “You go,” he ordered, fierce and fading all at once. “You take Ellie and you go north. Go to Tommy. You go.”

With the last of his strength, he shoved you back, hard. The force sent you stumbling, landing on your ass, the wind knocked clean from your chest.

You stared at him from the floor, heart pounding, torn between fury and terror. But there wasn’t time for either. You pushed yourself up, jaw clenched, and grabbed Ellie’s wrist. “Come on.”

You pulled her upstairs, the old wooden steps groaning under your feet. “Check every drawer. We need medicine, bandages, something for the stitches. We need to find something!”

Ellie nodded, splitting off, and you both rifled through the dusty remnants of another family’s life: broken dishes, scattered photos, clothes long moth-eaten. Drawers squeaked and banged, every sound loud in the stillness. 

“Here!” Ellie called, thrusting a small tin sewing kit into your hands. You didn’t even look at her, just sprinted back downstairs, knees hitting the cold floor beside Joel with a painful thud.

His eyes flicked open at your arrival, hazy but locked on you. There was something in them – raw, unguarded disbelief that you’d came back.

“We’re not leaving,” Ellie vowed behind you, moving closer. “We're not going anywhere." She took his free hand in hers, and your chest clenched painfully at the sight of Joel’s fingers squeezing hers, grounding himself to her.

Your own hand hovered above his chest before settling, trembling slightly over his weak heartbeat. "If I’d known a stab wound would've turned you into a big softie, I'd have done it myself ages ago, old man," you teased, voice thick with emotion. 

A faint smile ghosted over Joel’s lips, brief but real, and you cupped his cheek for a fleeting second, thumb brushing over his stubble before turning back to the wound. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you warned quietly. “Trust me, this is not how I pictured my first time taking off your shirt going, either.” 

You drew in a long breath, trying to steady your hands. “Okay,” you whispered to yourself, building up your confidence. “Okay.”

And then you got to work.

The first time the needle pierced his skin, Joel groaned, his grip latching onto your bicep like a vice. His whole body tensed under your hands, and you felt his pain ripple through you, raw and electric.

"I know, baby. I know," you murmured, the words falling automatically as you worked, threading the needle through torn skin, pulling it tight, again and again. as you threaded the needle in and out of his skin. Hot tears continued to burn as they slid down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Joel’s eyes fluttered shut before you were even halfway done, his weight sinking heavier into the ratty mattress. You pressed harder, worked faster as the stitches held but the bleeding didn’t stop as quickly as you’d hoped.

When it was finally over, Ellie helped you by covering Joel with the thickest blanket she could scrounge up from upstairs. She curled up beside him, her hand resting on his chest, her body seeking his warmth. You watched Joel, unconscious, instinctively tilt his head toward her, leaning into her touch even as he drifted deeper into sleep.

A tiny, exhausted smile pulled at your lips.

You lay down beside him, your sleeping bag doing little against the hard concrete. The cold crept up from the floor into your bones, but you barely felt it. Your eyes stayed fixed on Joel’s pale face, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, counting every breath like a lifeline.

You reached out hesitantly, your hand finding his where it rested limply by his side. You threaded your fingers through his, squeezing tightly, silently begging him to stay.

Your thumb brushed over the back of his hand, tracing the scars and calluses, grounding yourself in the reality of him, alive and here, even if hanging on by a thread. 

But Joel Miller was a fighter – a thread was all you needed.

Ellie’s quiet snores filled the room, soft and steady, and for a moment, you let yourself breathe.

But as you lay there, tethered to him by the small, stubborn clasp of your fingers, the weight of it all settled deep into your chest. It felt… complicated. 

Complicated because of how you’d left things with Joel – the silence, the tension, the unspoken things you were both too stubborn to say.

And yet, somehow, it felt like the simplest thing in the world.

Because the second he was hurt––bleeding and broken beneath your hands––nothing else mattered. Not the fights, not the distance, not the walls he insisted on building around himself.

All that mattered was him. Saving him. Keeping him alive.

You closed your eyes, pressing your forehead lightly against the back of his hand. 

“I’m not leaving you,” you whispered, voice horse. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that quiet, flickering dark, you knew you meant it with everything you had. You didn’t care if he pushed you away – you’d keep coming back. Because that was what you did… for people you loved.

You didn’t sleep that night, afraid of what would happen if you woke up and Joel had stopped breathing. So you spent the night on your side in that uncomfortable sleeping bag, eyes glued to his chest, finding comfort in the rhythmic way it went up and down as he breathed. Every once in a while, your gaze would flicker to his face, to how peaceful he looked, even if he didn’t feel it. 

You only realized it was morning when daylight began to filter through the broken window panes, casting pale patterns across the floorboards. Now awake, you sat up, resting our back against the nearest wall, arms loosely draped over bent knees. Outside, the wind howled through the bare trees, reminding you of the wintery mix existing outside.

When Ellie woke up, she fidgeted with her pocket knife, scraping the dull blade against the concrete floor around her. Every few minutes, she glanced over Joel’s still form lying on the mattress, as if waiting for him to stir awake. You followed her gaze every time, your own heart sinking deeper at the sight of his pale skin. 

For a long while, neither of you spoke. The quiet wasn’t awkward – it was heavy, thick with the unknown of the future. You watched Ellie scratch patterns into the concrete, her lights pressed tight, shoulders tense.

It reminded you of before. Before Jackson. Before Kansas City. Before Joel. Back when it was just you and Ellie against the world. Just two people surviving day by day, moving forward without knowing where forward even led.

You swallowed hard, thinking about how lonely it used to feel. And you hadn’t even realized it then. You hadn’t known how much lighter it could be with someone else helping you carry the weight. With Joel carrying more than his fair share. You didn’t realize how much his presence had changed both of you, made you more than just two survivors scraping by.

Ellie finally broke the silence, her voice soft and steady. “What are we gonna do if… I mean, what if he doesn’t…” 

She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought but she didn’t need to; you understood exactly what she was asking.

What if he doesn’t wake up?

The question made your chest tighten. You looked at her, then; really looked at her – at the circles under her eyes, the way her mouth trembled just a little as she spoke. Maybe she was asking it partly out of fear, but you knew it was mostly out of a need. Because she deserved an answer. 

You didn’t realize how much Joel’s interactions with Ellie affected you. He treated her like an adult, like she was capable of handling the harsh cruelties of the world you lived in. And she’d only thrived in that environment. She’d loved learning how to hunt from Joel, how to shoot the rifle, how to take watch. 

She deserved to be treated like an adult by you, too. She deserved for you to be honest, even if it was hard, because it was necessary. You couldn’t shield Ellie with false hope anymore; now, you had to honor her strength the way Joel had. The way Joel does.

You inhaled deeply, letting the breath linger in your lungs before exhaling. “I don’t know, Ellie.” 

She blinked at you, surprised, maybe expecting you to lie to protect her, as you’d done her entire life. You shook your head gently. “I won’t bullshit you. I wish I had a plan. I wish I knew how to fix this. But…” Your gaze drifted back to Joel. “I don’t know what to do. I’m honestly just trying to get through the next hour.”

Ellie nodded slowly. Her lips pressed together again, but she didn’t argue. Didn’t tell you to come up with something. Instead, she scooted closer, crossing her arms over her knees and resting her chin atop them.

“I hate this,” she mumbled. “Just waiting.” 

“Me too,” you admitted.

You let the silence fall again, but this time, it felt companionable. Ellie’s presence beside you was a quiet reminder that you weren't alone in this, even if it felt that way. Her head on your shoulder grounded you. 

Joel had changed everything. And God, you hadn’t seen it back then. You hadn’t realized how much warmer things had become with him in your orbit. He made you both better, stronger, more stubbornly hopeful.

You didn’t say any of it aloud, but you knew Ellie felt it too.

You leaned your head atop hers, arm coming to wrap around her. “We’re gonna figure it out,” you reassured her, keeping the truth at the center of your hope. You two would figure it out, because you always did.

Ellie gave you a small, tired smile, agreeing. “Yeah. We always do.”

After another bout of silence, Ellie stopped chewing her lip and stated, “He was trying, you know.” 

You furrowed your brows. “Trying what?” 

“To fix things with you.” 

The words landed like a stone in your chest. Ellie glanced up at you then, serious in a way that made her look older than she should’ve. “I could tell… even if you couldn’t.” 

You sat up a little straighter. “What do you mean?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just… stuff. Like when we were crossing that creek last month? You slipped on a rock and he grabbed you. Real quick. But he didn’t let go right away. I thought – I thought maybe he was just steadying you. But he kept his hand there. On your arm… He does that a lot.” 

You stared at her, words caught in your throat.

“And when you got clipped by that guy’s knife in Denver? You were bleeding from your shoulder and he went to you first. Before he even checked himself. I mean, if it had happened back when we were near Boston… he never used to do that.”

Memories flooded you – moments you’d brushed off, or told yourself didn’t mean anything. Joel shifting your sleeping bag closer to the fire one cold night. Waking you up gently for your watch shift so Ellie could sleep longer. The way he’d listened when you told that stupid story about how you’d spent that one birthday at the pancake house. He’d turned his entire body toward you as you spoke, his tired gaze softened like he was letting you in without saying a word.

“You didn’t notice,” Ellie added, a little quieter.

You pressed your palms against your knees, blinking hard. “I… I think I didn’t want to.” You rubbed your face. “Fuck, I was so stubborn.” 

“He wasn’t mad about it,” Ellie said. “He just… kept trying.” 

Something in your chest cracked open. You pressed a hand there, feeling the ache widen. “I should’ve told him I saw it. That it mattered.” 

“You can tell him when he wakes up,” Ellie said, simple and certain.

You looked at her then, this scrappy kid who was fighting tooth and nail to hold onto hope. And you remembered just how much stronger, braver, and softer Ellie made you.

You swallowed again, voice thick. “Yeah. When he wakes up.” 

The rest of the day was spent scavenging the house for any leftovers you could eat and making sure Joel was comfortable. Ellie found some canned food to hold you over until tomorrow, at least. It would’ve eased your stress if Joel didn’t look like he was getting worse. 

The botched stitching job you’d done was starting to grow darker, more tender. You only realized after Ellie had fallen asleep, curled up beside Joel on the mattress, her small form pressed protectively against his side. Her hand came up to rest over his chest like she could hold his heart inside his body, keep it beating, keep it from slipping away.

You shifted to sit nearby on the floor, knees hugged tight to your chest beneath your blanket. The wind outside picked up again, rattling the loose shutters of the basement windows, howling through the cracks. Shadows danced along the walls from the flickering flashlight you’d lit earlier. 

You couldn’t stop watching Joel’s face, his chest rising and falling shallowly beneath Ellie’s hand. You counted every breath like it might be his last. 

The tightness in your throat built under it forced you to move. You crawled closer, kneeling beside him. His skin felt warm beneath your hand, feverish. You pressed your palm gently against his forehead, feeling the damp heat, and then let your hand slide to his cheek. 

“Hey,” you whispered, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you. “Joel…” 

Your thumb brushed over the stubble along his jaw. “I know you’re not awake. I know you can’t answer me, but… I need you to hear this.” 

You closed your eyes for a moment, grounding yourself with the weight of his hand beneath yours. Then you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to the side of his temple.

“I forgive you,” you whispered. “Okay? I forgive you for what happened in Jackson. I forgive you and I mean it. I'll forget it, I'll never bring it up again. Just come back to us, please, Joel... come back to me. I need you. I can't do this without you. So please just come back."

You pressed a templing kiss to his temple, closing your eyes tightly, letting your tears freely fall now.

“I don’t even know if you can hear me,” you whispered into the dark. “But if you can, just hold on. Okay? Hold on for me… cause if you die, I’ll kill you.” 

The words felt fragile, ridiculous like tossing pebbles into the void. But you said them anyway, again and again, until they dissolved into broken sobs.

“I’ll do anything,” you breathed. “I’ll stop avoiding eye contact. I’ll laugh at those horrible jokes you tell. I’ll let you carry my pack. I’ll thank you whenever you give me your jacket to sleep in. You can keep adjusting my pack straps, keep checking my boots for wear, keep giving me the biggest portion of Chef Boyardee because you know I love it.”

You laughed through the tears, willing Joel to wake and join you. But he didn't.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there fore, forehead pressed against his, hand gripping his tightly like you could tether him to this world. Eventually, your voice gave out, raw and hoarse, and you simply sat there, holding onto him.

Somewhere in that endless night, something inside you shifted.

You sat back slowly, wiping your face with shaking hands, and stared down at him. Your jaw tightened. 

Your gaze flicked toward the window, toward the cold wilderness beyond. You thought of what little food you had left. Of the likely infection burning through Joel’s body. Of what you had to do next.

And the determination rose beneath the exhaustion.

Tomorrow, you’d find a way. Tomorrow, you'd’ save him.

No matter what it cost.

.

.

.

taglist: @orcasoul @lizlil @littleshadow17 @joeldjarin @mrsyixingunicorn10 @luvwanda @escaping-reality8 @hoddystark @mmkkzz @victoriaholland @xodilfluvr @ilovetoomanymen @21tao @mystickittytaco @keileighr @buckyandlokirunmylife @deesparticus @underchaos @keepingitlokiii @silas-aeiou @underchaos @tjohn63 @princess76179 @umadirectioner

[rafesplaymate]

FWB!Rafe Cameron x FWB!Reader

Chapter ii

˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 navigation. ˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 masterlist ˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 series masterlist

warnings: angst. violent / abusive behaviors. toxic relationships. dark themes / adult content.

a/n: i wasn’t going to let rafe or sofia win lol

˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ˖₊⊹ ᡣ𐭩 ˖₊⊹

Rafe is fucking miserable. Honestly that’s a fucking understatement for the influx of overlapping emotions he feels as he watches y/n from afar. Sofia was tucked under his arm yapping away about god knows what. Rafe having checked out since he saw y/n come into sight. All his thoughts consumed by her as the hole she left behind in his chest grew bigger. Here he was in despair and there she was having the time of her life.

Rafe’s attempts to reach out to her after the way he treated her completely ignored. She cut him out of her life completely, not even acknowledging his existence in the slightest. She quite literally ghosted him and left him behind. His desperate attempts at getting her attention and trying to get her to speak to him all failed. He attempted to blow up her phone with incessant calls and text that never went through because she immediately blocked him. He then tried to go to her house which was intercepted by her mom who gave him a nasty scowl and shoved a box of gifts he gave her, and items he left at her place from all the times he was over there into his chest. Their front door slammed in his face and leaving him shut out of a place he felt was his second home. He even tried to stop her at parties or bonfires, all his efforts going inauspicious because her other friends intercepted before he could even get to her. Shoving him away and giving him nasty glares before being told to ‘leave her alone, you bitch. Go back to your little girlfriend.’ He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so iced out before.

So here he stands at a bonfire on the cut, Sofia’s words going in one ear and out the other as he desperately tried to catch y/n’s eyes. Desperate to see her pretty gaze on his once more, desperate for just an ounce of her attention. He almost wanted to whine like a petulant child who wasn’t getting attention, it hurt him so fucking bad that she just completely shut him out. And fuck -he knows he deserves it. He fucking knows he does; he was so coked out of his mind that evening. His adrenaline pushing him to speak to her as if she meant nothing to him when she meant fucking everything.

Y/n was the only person to accept him in his entirety. She accepted all his flaws, his twisted personality. She didn’t just accept it. She loved it. She would kiss his bloody knuckles every time he punched a hole in one of their walls. She would kiss the cuts and bruises on his face after a fight. She would lick his tears and kiss them away when he cried to her as he wrapped her tightly his arms, body pressed to his. She would back him up when people would call him a psychopath, shut them down with that bitchy attitude he had never been privy too. Until now. He’d know she could be a real fucking cunt, but he didn’t ever think he’d be on the receiving end of it. And now that he is, he feels like he’s spiraling.

After weeks of not being able to get in contact with her, he’d found solace in Sofia. Using her to numb the hole y/n left behind his chest. He struggled so fucking much to get used to the stark differences between them both. Sofia would scold him when he punched the wall, scold him when he fought, scold him when he went on one of his infamous rampages. Trying to push him to do better and be someone else. And he fucking hated it, so different from the way you treated him. You didn’t try to ‘fix him,’ the way she did. You just loved him for who he was and he fucked it all up. Even the sex was subpar, deciding to just take her from behind and shove her head into the mattress so he could imagine it was y/n. But he never could. Sex with y/n was like a drug. Completely euphoric; a spiritual experience he was addicted to having. And he felt like a fiend needing another hitt of his favorite drug which was her…y/n.

Y/n couldn’t stop the pang of immense hurt she felt in her chest when she saw Rafe around the island with Sofia, the Kook prince and princess’s separation spreading around like wildfire. Sure everyone knew y/n and Rafe were best friends but they knew that it was so much more than what met the eye. The impalpable chemistry between the two; suffocating any room they were in with great tension. Everyone felt like they just went together. A Kook bitch and Kook asshole who only had soft spots for each other. Y/n was kinder than Rafe but she could go on a real rampage like he did. Her fiery attitude matching his own in every way. So for everyone to see Rafe with someone as fucking bland as Sofia, it was a big shock. Kook girls and boys and pogues alike taking to the fact that the finest girl on the island was now out of the clutches of Rafe Cameron. And they took full advantage.

So yeah, maybe it hurt y/n to see Rafe parading around with Sofia; but she threw herself into the attention granted to her by the other cute islanders and left him as an after thought that constantly nagged in the back of her brain. Here she was dancing and grinding on cute boys and girls as they flocked to her. Her beautiful body looking so damn enticing as she moved around seductively to the beat of the music. Skimpy outfit accentuating her perfectly and the body glitter she had on, glimmering with each turn. She looked like a beach goddess, truly the baddest on the island. People couldn’t believe Rafe Cameron fumbled for a dud like Sofia, all modestly and blandness. The complete opposite of y/n.

Barry had been watching her all night, finally ready to make a move since Rafe wasn’t in the way anymore. The only reason he never has was because that’s his friend/business partner’s girl or at least she was. Also more so because, not that he doesn’t think she’s worth it; but he really didn’t want to face Rafe’s wrath. Him now knowing that she’s out of his clutches has him feeling over-confident, he’s making a move and making it tonight. Rafe could be stupid but he wouldn’t make the same mistake.

Y/n was wearing out, having danced off her buzz and needing more to keep her going and keep her distracted. She knew Rafe had been watching her all night, and she reveled in it. She loves it, she wants him to pine after her, grieve the loss of her companionship the way she grieved his. It boosted her pride from the amount of times he’s tried to reach out to her. He deserves to grovel for her attention and time. She’ll never let him live it down. But fuck does she miss him being her plug, needing a line ASAP. So she goes to the one person she knows will hook her up with no charge just with a bat of her wispy lashes and a pout from her pretty lips. Immediately making her way to Barry, hips swaying with each step and making party-goers from tour-ons to Kooks and Pogues alike, both men and women ogling her stunning self. Barry included as he watched her walk toward him.

Barry was one of the many people who’d been staring at her the whole night, his eyes running up and down her figure the whole time she was dancing. Barry wasn’t dumb, from the moment he met y/n he knew she was gorgeous. He was more than willing to accept any attention she gave him, allowing only her to bitch him out of product with a bat of her pretty eyes. She got near him, her lips twisting into a coy smile as she gave him those fuck me eyes that would make any man want to ravage her whole.

“Hi Barryyy,” she sighed out, coming up right in front of him and immediately sliding a manicured hand from his mid stomach, up to his chest. Letting him pull her in by the waist with one arm while the other held a red solo cup full of god knows what. Her arms immediately wrapping around his neck as she leaned her body into him. Plump tips pressed into his chest and nipples hard against him as she leaned her face close to his. Y/n always found Barry attractive, she didn’t mind letting him run his hands all over her. “Whatchu want, beautiful? Hmm?” He drawled, looking down at her beautiful face as she leaned her head back to give him doe-eyes that made him want to take her right there in the sand in front of everyone. “Need some more,” she whined lowly, brushing her lips against his and feeling his hand lower to her ass. Gripping a handful as she pressed into him more, biting her lip with a low moan as she allowed him to grope her. Her eyes fluttered as she moaned out an airy, ‘Baaarrryyyy.” Tightening her arms around him and brushing her lips against his cheek as she moaned into his ear the more he groped her.

Rafe was fuming, he wanted to fucking murder someone at this very moment. That someone being his fucking business partner who was grabbing all over his woman, but what hit him more is that she was allowing it. Liking it actually, her left leg coming up to wrap lightly around his as she let Barry press light kisses to her throat, hand still groping her ass as she leaned her head back. Rafe’s vision tunneled, his heart pounding in his chest his ears rang with rage. He felt his soul shattering, his heart shattering. He wanted to scream and cry and fall at her feet. Bury his face into her tummy that he loved so much and wrap his arms around her as he begged her to forgive him. The red solo cup in his hand crushing in his big palm as the contents of it spilled all over his hand. Not even giving a damn that his hand was all sticky or the gasp falling from Sofia’s lips as he took his arm from around her and shoved her to the side harshly. Tossing his cup and storming through the sand with only murder on his mind. People taking notice and moving to the side knowing he was more than willing to knock them over for being in his way.

Eyes began falling onto the scene of Rafe’s reddened face tightened in anger as he got closer to y/n and Barry. The two in their own world as y/n began grinding her hips into Barry’s bugle pressed against her, his cup having been tossed to the side so he could hold her leg against his hip and grind into her. He loved the way she smelled, her creamy vanilla scent making him want to devour her whole. He was more than willing to take her back to his tonight and give her whatever she wanted. Knowing of her high sex drive from all the times she practically almost fucked Rafe in front of him when they all hung out, getting high together. Y/n kept her head tilted back and eyes closed, she loved the feeling of Barry’s calloused hand gripping her under her tiny skirt, skin to skin due to the little thong she was wearing. She was more than willing to hook up with him tonight and get her mind off Rafe, about ready to tell Barry to take her somewhere private until a familiar grip tugged on her upper arm. Rafe pulled y/n away from Barry harshly, tossing her behind him into the sand as she gasped in shock. Party goers immediately going to her aid and helping her back up as she stabilized herself.

Rafe socked Barry in the jaw, immediately pushing him to the ground and landing punch after punch as his knuckles cracked open and his blood slipped out, Barry’s mixing in as he smashed his face in. Rafe’s vision was red and the only thing that brought him back was the familiar voice screaming in his ear and familiar hands tugging at his arm. ‘Stop! Stop! RAFE STOP!’ Her voice faded in, the ringing in his ears subsiding as he took in his surroundings once again. The bonfire now quiet except for the blasting music, everyone circled around the commotion as Barry groaned under him. Rafe still straddling him until he stumbled up, allowing the tugging on his arm to guide him. He looked around at everyone screaming out a, “the fuck are you looking at, huh?!” Glaring into the eyes cutting into him as people backed up. Another infamous rampage that would be the talk for weeks to come.

Rafe turned to the source of the tugging, taking in y/n’s pleading face as he grabbed her and manhandled her over his shoulder. Storming his way through the parting crowd, Sofia watching with teary eyes and an aching heart as he completed disregarded her. Y/n squirming around on his shoulder while she kicked her legs and pounded on his lower back. Screaming at him to let her down as he completely ignored her and headed straight for his truck.

He heard a voice that wasn’t y/n’s angry yells calling his name. Ignoring it as he got near his trucks passenger seat and opened it quickly, tossing y/n in and slamming the door shut. Immediately locking the car and slamming on his window with a “don’t fucking move!” Trudging to the drivers side and about ready to get in when a grip on his arm tugged at him. He turned around with rage in his eyes as he took in a crying Sofia; her voice cracking as she yelled at him with tears streaming fown her cheeks. “What is wrong with you?!” she cried, smacking at his chest as he stared at her emotionless.

Coldness in his eyes as he took the hands pounding into his chest and gripped them by her wrist. Huffing deeply from his nose as he caught her eyes with his, his wide open and crazed as he told her one thing, “you were nothing. Nothing but an easy fuck. You’re fucking pathetic, you’re fucking easy, and you’re a lousy lay. Keep your boring ass away from me, alright?! We’re done. Go bother some other sucker.” He said with complete harshness in his voice, his words cutting into her as he took his grip on her wrist to push her away from him. Her body stumbling and landing into the sand as she sobbed harder. Her entire soul shattered and heart stomped on. He didn’t give a single fuck, his mind consumed with one person who was staring straight through his window with rage in her eyes. Not daring to leave cause y/n knows he would chase after her and tackle her into the sand. He got in his seat and immediately drove away, away from all the chaos he caused because he’s an insolent, impulsive child who doesn’t know how to express himself correctly.

“You think that’s funny? Huh?!” He pressed y/n, turning to look at her with those crazed eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest, bringing one out to check her manicure as she scoffed and rolled her eyes. Already knowing how to handle the monster Rafe was when he was full of anger. He drove fast and recklessly, his gaze continuously whipping between her and the road as she refused to speak to him. Staring out the window as she ignored the tension that was almost suffocating in the car. Rafe reached his hand over and gripped her chin to make her face him, looking back at the road as she struggled with getting the painful grip of his hand off her face. “When I ask you a question, you fucking answer me!” He squeezed her face harder, making her cry out as she began clawing at his arms with her nails; angry red streaks tainting his skin as he sped up.

“Fuck you!” She spit out, bringing her hands to smack at his face as they struggled with each other. Rafe eventually pulling away to grip both hands on the wheel and pulling the car quickly into his lane when it veered over into the other one. Almost hitting another car that was honking harshly at him. “I’ll kill both of us right the fuck now! You think I won’t?! I’ll fucking take you down with me, baby!” He screamed at her as she kept smacking at him. Biting his hand when he tried to grip her face again and digging her teeth in. Making him hiss and pull it away quickly, drops of blood leaking out from how deep she bit into him. “Do it then you fucking pussy! You’re so fucking pathetic!” she screamed at him.

Fortunately, Rafe pulled into Tannyhill’s driveway and brought the car to a screeching halt. Quickly putting the car in park; hopping out and storming to the passenger side as he tugged it open and dragged her out of the car by her arm. Slamming the door and manhandling her all the way to the front door of his house, till he opened it and pushed her forward. Watching her stumble in and almost fall to her knees but quickly catching her balance and turning around to face him. The same crazed look in her eyes as he brought out her monster that matched his to play.

Y/n rushed at him and tried to knock him in his jaw, Rafe’s reflexes quick as he grabbed her wrist and tugged her into him with it. Other hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing harshly as he cut off her air supply, her feistiness subsiding as her face turned red and her free hand began clawing at his wrist to make him release her. He finally did and she stumbled back gasping harshly for air as she caught her breath. Her spotty vision going back to normal as she looked at him. The two breathing harshly, chest quickly rising up and down as they sized each other up. She walked to him quickly, her cute sandal-heels clacking as she brought her hand up and back-handed him so hard his bottom lip split open from the diamond ring on her finger.

When Rafe turned his head to look at her again, she back handed him again. Watching him as he let out a pained groan and brought his hand to his pounding cheek. Feeling the cut she left on his lip and cheek; dabbing the blood dripping out with the tip of his middle finger as he looked at her. Her eyes daring him to test her again as his monster submitted to hers, the two staring at each other as his eyes began water, tears dripping down his cheeks as a pained sob left his mouth. Falling to his knees as he crawled to her and grabbed her by her lower back, tugging her to him as he buried his face into her bare stomach. His heavy tears wetting her smooth skin as he sobbed all his frustrations and heartache out.

“M’sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!” He cried out, his voice full of emotion as he sobbed into her. Apologizing for everything. For making her feel used, making her feel like she was nothing to him when she was everything. Sorry for all the hurt he caused her, both mental and physical; he knew he wasn’t good for her. He’d always known and he was proving himself right. Sobbing into her harder as his hands splayed flat against her lower back to push his face deeper into her stomach, “please y/n! Please!” He looked up at her then, on his knees with a red face as tears continued to run down his cheeks, snot dripping from his nose. Completely hysterical as she clenched both her fist by her side, starting at him down her nose with no emotion in her eyes. Cold and the complete ice queen he knows she can be.

“I can-I can’t fucking taking it anymore! It’s driving me insane! You’re driving me insane! I’m fucking sorry! I never meant to hurt you y/n, please believe me! I-I was so fucked up that day and Sofia wanted me so bad! It made me feel good! Good to have her falling at my feet! But she isn’t you baby, please!” He choked out, baring his soul through his mouth and pleading eyes as she continued staring down at him with no emotion. He wrapped his arms completely around her, chin resting on her stomach as he cried up to her.

“You’re everything! Everything to me! From the moment I met you, I knew it! I-I didn’t know how to handle all the emotion you make me feel, you make my head go haywire! It’s overwhelming an-and fuck! I didn’t know how to handle it, you’re so much better than me! You’re too good for me! You know it, I know it! The whole fucking island knows it! And Sofia was easy! She fell at my feet and made me feel like a fucking god! But baby, you! You make me feel like I belong, like i’m not alone an-and you love me for who I am! You always have and I always knew it! Because I love you the same way baby, love you so much mama! You’re everything to me, y/n! Everything! I love you! I love you! And you love me!” He finished, tears still pouring out of his eyes as her hands unclenched. Rafe was ready for her to caress him, tell him it was going to be all okay in her usual coo and tell him that they were okay. That she loved him just the same and that they could move on and start over. But what he expected to be an affectionate caress was actually a harsh shove.

Y/n pushed at his shoulders, pushing his face away from her stomach as she began clawing at his arms around her. “Get off,” she said coldly; continuing to push him away as he tightened his grip and shook his head side to side. A fresh batch of tears pouring down his cheeks. “Rafe get the fuck off of me!” She screamed, shoving him for the last time as he let go. His arms feeling to his sides with defeat as he stared at her with red eyes. Watching y/n as she stepped back and let out a sarcastic laugh. Shaking her head with a scoff at the end and crossing her arms over her chest.

“You are so fucking pathetic.” She bit out, voice harsh. Not one ounce of the affection she use to regard him with left in her voice. Rafe whimpering at that, opening his mouth to continue groveling until she spoke up again and raised a hand to signal him to be quiet. “Don’t. You had your chance to speak, now listen to me.” Rafe’s mouth immediately shutting closed into a tight line as he submitted and listened to her intently. Eyes pleading, as her hand lowered and she stared him down.

“So what? You treated me like shit because I didn’t what? Fall at your feet like that pathetic little pogue, bitch!” She shouted at him, her crazed eyes cutting into him. “Awww poor baby,” she mocked, “doesn’t know how to be a man and express himself so he acts like the little bitch he is! You’re so fucking sad, you know that? I loved you Rafe. So much! I gave you me in my entirety! I gave you all of me! Not just my heart, body, and soul but my mind! I let you know the darkest parts of me! Things no one else knows! And you did what? Tossed me to the side because some boring bitch gave you a bit of attention? Because she kissed the ground you walked on like the pathetic low life she is!” She spoke firmly, her face in a scowl of disgust as she stared him down like he was nothing.

“You’re just as fucking stupid as her! You’re both pathetic. I want nothing, and listen to me closely.” She walked to him, gripping his face in her hand and digging her nails into him. His lips squished as he stared up at her pathetically. “I want nothing to do with you. You’re nothing to me anymore, nothing. You’re just a pathetic coke head with daddy issues and mommy issues who never grew up. You don’t know how express yourself at your grown age and act like a man. Grow the fuck up Rafe! You’re a little boy, a stupid little boy. I was so blinded by my love for you that I didn’t realize how much of a bitch you really are. This is the first and last time I’m gonna say this. Leave. me. the fuck. alone.” She snarled at him, teeth bared at him like a lioness ready to attack her prey.

“I’m the best thing to happen to you baby, and you threw it all away for some bottom barrel pussy and easy attention. I’ll be fine, I’ll prosper. I can have anyone I want and do whatever the hell I set my mind too. I don’t need you. I never have and never will. I let you in because I wanted too, not because I needed too. The only difference between us is that I only wanted you but you need me. You need me. You always have and always will. But I’m done with you. For good. Go back to your sloppy little bitch and stay the fuck out of my life. You two low lives deserve each other. I’ll find the man who can stand by me without being so fucking intimated.” She spit out harshly, releasing the grip on his face as she walked back away from him slowly, giving him one last glare as she turned on her heels and headed for the front door. Ready to walk out of his life and leave him in the dirt.

Rafe shuffled forward on his knees as he pleaded with her, spitting out one last, “please y/n! Please baby! You’re right, you’re so fucking right! I need you baby please don’t leave me! I’ll do anything!” He sobbed out once more, watching as her hand stopped on the handle of the door as she pondered his words and turned back to him. Rafe feeling a lightening in his chest as hope grew. Ready for her to take him back, light building in his eyes. Until it all came shattering back down when she let out a mocking laugh. Eyes cutting into him with that condescending look that made anyone in her line of sight feel so little. Him included.

“Had I known me fucking you would get you so attached, I would have never done it. Now clean yourself up, you’re killing my fucking mood more than you already have.” Throwing his words back at him as she turned back around and opened the door. Slamming it behind it and walking out into the cool air of the night. Leaving Rafe behind, for good. Him shattered to nothing while she found a renewed sense of life. Her chest lightening as she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

She’d be okay. Better than okay, she’d be great. She was a strong woman and no pathetic man was gonna break her down and make her into nothing. She would prosper and give herself a better life. Already making plans to leave the island, leave this place full of tainted memories behind and find a place to make new ones. She would start over and create her own happiness. Her confidence bursting back into her as she walked down the driveway with a renewed sense of pride. Hope for better running through her. And as for Rafe … his soul died. His spirit broken, heart shattering to a million pieces in such a way that could never be properly put back together. Pieces of it missing forever, the biggest piece of it walking out of his life. And y/n only thought one thing. Fuck Rafe Cameron.

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a/n: PHEW! that was intense! sorry if yall wanted them to reconcile but nuh uh ——that boy grovel in his misery! pls let me know your thoughts in the comments! it would be deeply appreciated it! much love

taglist: @drewstarkeys-world @maybankslover

[bambisnc]

(   ➴ ) 𝒢𝖱𝖤𝖤𝖪 𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖦𝖤𝖣𝒴 ⚔ as the world caves in

☼ 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗆𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗒

### . STARRING ⌢ OT7 x f.r ⋆ headcanons + 1k / tw. death, falling in love / aphrodite 🛐🛐 + i'm kinda just yapping soz + most of these are SO tragic im romanticism maxxing sm + unedited ˖ ✧

𝓍𝗈𝗑𝗈 ─── heard their may cb might be greek mytho based 🙏🙏 so happy i'm done w/ this shut up this has been rotting in drafts for like a MONTH. + [FILE.ZIP]

이희승 — ❪ LEE HEESEUNG ❫  

౨ৎ Leander & Hero; a tale that could prove to be the inspiration behind Romeo and Juliet, this sees a man falling at first sight for a priestess of none other than Aphrodite.

due to your oath to the goddess of love, however, you can’t help but refuse the sweet confession of his. despite knowing very well, that deep down, you fully reciprocate his feelings.

only for heeseung to relentlessly attempt to win your affections, telling you there is no better way to serve the goddess of love than by devoting yourself to a life full of it. at the end, when you do agree to meet him again, he swims across a literal ocean ── and is even temporarily halted by the god of the seas himself ── to finally put an end to both your yearnings and allow a rendezvous <3

          ⋅ ˚ ଳ ₊ ‧ others utc

박종성 — ❪ JAY PARK ❫  

౨ৎ Odysseus & Penelope; jay being a warrior who suffers through years of war and voyages of tumultuous seas bravely, owing only to the memories of his wife is so in character to me.

thoughts of you would be such an unshakable source of drive for him, motivating him to get back to you so greatly that he'd even reject immortality as offered by the titan daughter Calypso.

and you, the wife, meanwhile, would refuse to take on any of the numerous suitors who attempt to woo you, regardless of their status and the benefits they could provide to your currently doomed kingdom. when finally he returns to his own land, he'd waste no time in absolutely demolishing all the pest-like suitors and restoring your kingdom back to its former glory. loyalty win!

심재윤 — ❪ JAKE SIM ❫  

౨ৎ Dionysus & Ariadne; some asshole who shows up to try to assert a victory on the half man-half beast Minotaur cruelly kept by your father, the king, looks ever so pitiful that you decide to help out him and his men.

he then promptly promises to take you as his queen but soon after abandons you on an island all alone.

said island is visited by Jake, deity of insanity and wine. being horrified by how you were treated, he decides to take you under his own shelter. you soon fall in love with each other but the earlier talked about asshole ends up murdering you! petty ahh but jake being, well, a god is quite easily able to bring you back, granting you immortality along the way.

and then you both laugh as the asshole is thrown off a cliff by his own people. happy ending <3

박성훈 — ❪ PARK SUNGHOON ❫  

౨ৎ Eros & Psyche; Aphrodite's issue with you in this tale is that you are considered so beautiful that people revere you, instead of worshipping the goddess. a little later, when you're unable to find a suitable partner, it is decided that to appease the goddess you must be wedded off to a "horrible serpent."

sunghoon, Aphrodite's son commands his winds to rescue you, having seen over you for a while now. he visits you in the dark so as not to alarm you of his identity but when your family learns of your luck, they maliciously sow seeds of mistrust in you towards him. t

his leads to you going against his warning of not looking at him in the light. and true to his word, when you do catch a glimpse of him, he disappears without a trace.

desperate to reconnect and apologize, you turn to Aphrodite herself, who, even more angered due to your sojourn with her son, punishes you with an array of Herculean tasks. only when you are finally able to finish them all, learning resilience, humility and sacrifice along the way are you able to reunite with sunghoon your damsel in distress fr. your dedication is also awarded with ambrosia, making you immortal <3

김선우 — ❪ KIM SUNWOO ❫  

౨ৎ Pygmalion & Galatea;  you, being a well established sculptor, known all over for your talent were quite obviously a much sought out potential bride. because, patriarchal society.

though your experience with men as well as all that which you'd heard from others had completely put you off from them. you instead choose to devote yourself to sculpting.

one sculpture, affectionately referred to by you as sunoo, in particular was modeled as a beautiful man, one who had all your ideal traits for a partner. Aphrodite, finding this rather romantic, decides to grant the sculpture sentience. but having now become a human male, it's only obvious you'd discover his flaws.

this would perhaps cause some barriers in the relationship you'd imagined with rose tinted glasses, but with both of you willing to work on yourselves to be better for the other, it would be much more real and meaningful. no miscommunication on my watch, thanks.

양정원 — ❪ YANG JUNGWON ❫  

౨ৎ Perseus & Andromeda; possibly the only pairing with a confirmed non-tragic end. this is yet another tale wherein Aphrodite is the meddling goddess.

beginning with a queen bragging about her daughter (you) being prettier than all the nymphs of the sea. this statement ends up angering Poseidon enough for him to unleash a sea monster to wreck havoc upon your kingdom's land as well as its people. after which, said people of the kingdom decide the only possible way to appease the monster is to sacrifice you, the said daughter (who had absolutely nothing to do with any of this).

a great warrior, jungwon, while passing by happens to come across the sacrificial ceremony near the coast, and taking pity on you decides to kill the monster. because he's just iconic like that. and then you marry each other and live happily ever after <3

西村 力 — ❪ NISHIMURA RIKI ❫  

౨ৎ Orpheus & Eurydice; an extremely talented musician, niki, while on a quest, comes across you and the two of you immediately fall in love. however, the bliss of the subsequent marriage is lost swiftly, when while being pursued by a past suitor, a snake happens to bite you.

refusing to accept this tragic outcome, niki decides the only course of action is to traverse the underworld and bring you back himself. he successfully persuades Hades and Persephone to do so, however a condition is placed upon him. he must not look behind even once while leading you outwards.

and sure, he's able to make the journey back but right as he nears the line dividing the light and the dark he realizes the edge is steep.

fearing that you might trip, niki glances back and is greeted by the sight of you for merely a second, before you fade away. this time to a place from where even his god-like musical aptitude could bring you back from, no matter how he yearned.

𐙚 . regulars : @chrrific @jessxxfwd @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @weedatthegasstation @flipitkickit ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[222col]

hello lovely <3 if it interests you, how about maneater! x rafe 🤭 if you wanted to put a spin on it she could have gotten with people he knows in the past (like jj or topper) but it just makes him want her more! whatever your heart desires! love all your content!

maneater!reader x rafe cameron

summary: rafe can't stand to hear how all the other boys have had you anymore, he needs a taste for himself

cw .ᐟ hints at nsfw

꒰ notes ꒱ ty bby!!! <333 would be open to a part two of this if ppl wanted <3

it wasn't a secret how badly rafe wanted you, half of figure eight had seen the way he lusted after you. every rager his eyes were glued on you, borderline stalking you around the country club on the rare occasion you showed up there. he'd never had to work so hard to get a girl in his life, probably half the reason he wanted you so fucking bad.

what didn't help? how many fucking stories he'd had to hear about you. look, rafe knew that you'd been with your fair amount of people on the island. he couldn't give two shits about that. what he did care about though was topper rubbing it in his face how he'd had you. fuckin' topper. you'd slept with topper, but denied him? drove him crazy.

every weekend rafe had to listen to topper remind him of how you felt, the way you kissed him, the filthy stories echo in his brain constantly. rafe hated it. hated how jealous he got, it was ridiculous— he hadn't even had you. hadn't even touched your skin, yet he was jealous that his best friend had.

he knew that you wanted him, you just loved the game of cat and mouse more. you loved the way he craved you, how he was working so hard to win you over. nothing brought you more joy than putting rafe through the ringer, god knows he deserved it. he had been served everything on a silver platter, he deserved to work for something for once in his life.

"no." you mutter, not even meeting rafe's eyes as his mouth opens.

"i didn't even fucking say anything." he grumbles, rolling his eyes as his hands ball into his fists by his sides. he's trying so hard to not just reach out and pull you against his body. "i knew what you were gonna say," you shrug, sipping whatever liquor you found in topper's kitchen from your red solo cup.

your eyes meet his through your lashes, looking to him as though his conversation alone was a waste of your time. you always gave him that look, as though he wasn't worth your energy. rafe hated how much he loved it. "you were just gonna tell me some more bullshit, don't need to hear it to know it."

gulping down more of the liquid in your cup, before setting it down on the counter, hands on your hips as you look around the party. "huh, he's kinda hot for a pogue." you smirk, as your eyes cast over jj maybank. rafe's neck snaps around to follow your vision, jaw clenched as he spots the blonde.

"fucks he even doing here— sorry, wait—" he sneers, head turning back around to look at you. "you're not going anywhere near maybank." rafe spits, his hand gripping your upper arm. desperately trying not to acknowledge this is the first time he's touched you. no, he's too fucking angry at the idea of jj fucking maybank having you before he did.

"oh, aren't i?" you smirk, jj wasn't even the highest on your hit list tonight, but anything to piss rafe off. "watch me."

no way was rafe letting that happen, his grip tightens around your arm as you attempt to walk away from him. pulling you straight back to him, closer now, once you'd taken a step away. your body now fully pressed up against his, rafe's free hand moving to wrap around your waist, making sure there was no chance you could free yourself from his grip.

rolling your eyes as he does, but you can't help the smirk that threatens your features. "why can't you just admit you want me?" he mumbles, lips by your ear before they start to trail open mouthed kisses down your neck. "where's the fun in that?" you whisper, tilting your neck to expose more skin to him— rafe smirking as you do, feeling you start to finally give in to him.

the music playing starts to become background noise, your focus on the way rafe's lips feel against your skin, how his hands have snaked up under your tank. sprawled out against your back, keeping your chest firmly pressed up against his. humming against your skin as he feels your arms move to drape around his neck.

"you drive me crazy," his words are muffled against your skin, lips trailing up your jaw before he captures your lips with his own. immediately pushing his tongue into your mouth, groaning against your lips. tongues slide over each other, fighting for dominance while rafe pushes your body back against the kitchen counter.

your hands hold the back of his neck, angling your head to kiss him deeper, gasping into his mouth as rafe's hands hook under your thighs, hitching you up onto the kitchen counter. he slots himself between your thighs, hands gripping your hips tightly, lips never leaving yours. he couldn't care less about the onlookers eyes on the two of you, he wanted people to see you with him. needed the entire fucking party to see that he'd finally gotten what he wanted.

your lips tasted like vodka and cherry cola, and rafe never wanted to stop tasting it. one hand tangles through your hair, tugging gently as his lips slip from your mouth back down your neck. rafe nips at the base of your throat, sucking a mark into your skin. he wanted to make sure everyone in this house knew he'd put it there, that rafe had marked your skin. "come upstairs." he mumbles, pulling back to look at your face.

his eyes darkened, the hint of your red lipstick smudged around his mouth. an evil smirk across your face, leaning back on your palms as you shake your head no. you couldn't give him all the satisfaction in one night. "you're fucking killing me." he groans, head falling against your shoulder.

"i'm sure you'll live." you smirk, patting him on the shoulder before pushing past him to jump down from the counter. smoothing down your outfit as you start to walk away.

"bye top— oops, bye rafe!" you were fucking evil, he couldn't get enough.

© 222col. do not steal or repost my work without permission.

[avvail]

a villain that can hypnotise people through touch

The hero feels themselves tripping over their own two feet as the imposing figure advances on them, until their back hits the wall with a solid thud. They attempt to keep their breathing under control, but it’s a difficult game.

“Where are you going?” The villain asks simply, as if they don’t already know the answer to the question. The hero grits their teeth, baring them viciously.

“Stay back,” they hiss. “I mean it.”

“Or else what?” The villain chuckles humourlessly, their cold eyes not leaving theirs for even a moment. “You know you can’t win this fight.”

“No,” they shakily whisper, their eyes desperately searching for a way to escape. They are not ignorant to the power that the villain possesses. The power that had kept them trapped in their clutches for far too long. “Give me a ten foot pole and I’ll find a way to keep you away from me.”

The villain raises a brow. “You don’t have one of those, doll.”

“Yeah?” They spit. “Wanna bet?”

The villain takes a measured step forward, and the hero’s narrowed eyes suddenly widen, pressing themselves closer against the wall until they’re impossibly flat.

“No, please,” they breathe, their face wrinkling in fear. “The people need me, Villain. Please, let me go back out there.”

The villain laughs coldly, like that’s funny.

“You should see yourself when you cling to me,” they respond coolly, their eyes flashing with something dangerous. “It’s cute. You make these little doe eyes that drive me crazy.”

“That’s not me,” they choke, their hands pressing into their chest. “These gaps in my memory, not knowing how much time has passed, what you’ve made me do – it’s torture.”

“It’s far from torture, doll,” the villain frowns, taking another step forward. The hero’s heart hammers in their chest, lodging in their lungs and making it difficult to breathe. “You don’t see how much you’re spoiled.”

The hero chokes on a hitched breath. “You get off on this sick power play. You take away people’s free will, make them into—”

“—nothing?” The villain interrupts sharply. Their expression darkens. “You’d never understand what it’s like from my perspective. You’re thinking too hard, yet so little. Why don’t you come here?”

The hero instantly shakes their head. “No. Stay away from me.”

“Then I come to you.”

“Stay away.”

The hero makes a desperate lunge in an attempt to escape, but the villain’s hand seizes their wrist instantly, and they gasp. Tingles reverberate through their skin, and they desperately try to yank away. Their grasp is unrelenting, and with each second that ticks by, the tingles grow stronger, spreading through their body like wildfire.

“Stop,” they gasp, their knees weak when they’re tugged closer. “Please, please stop.”

“Shh,” the villain hums, a warm hand cupping their cheek, making the hero’s throat close up. Their mind goes haywire. But when the villain speaks, when their skin touches theirs, their thoughts begin to die out.

“That’s it, doll,” they purr, brushing a thumb under their eye when a stray tear leaked down their cheek. “Just like that.”

It’s always beautiful when the thoughts leave their eyes, when their weakening struggles die down, and they go slack and pliant in their arms. The villain’s eyes crinkle with a smile, admiring the dazed expression on their face. It takes moments until all the fight is drained out of them.

“There you go,” the villain hums, and their touch makes the hero go all fuzzy and lightheaded. “Let’s go back, shall we?”

The hero obediently follows them along.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Practice

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You need to practice

On the weekend, when you don't have games and you've finished all your homework, you have a kick about in the garden.

Or, rather, Momma and Morsa had a kick around and you save their shots.

Momma's better at shooting than Morsa but Morsa does better headers so it all evens out you suppose.

Either way, you get practice and they get exercise.

It's a win-win.

You're doing well with your academy training but not well enough. Since the time you rejected Germany's offer to have you play for their youth teams, no one else had called you up.

Not Denmark.

Not Sweden.

Some of your peers at Academy training had wormed their ways onto the youth teams, even for just one call up.

But you hadn't.

You don't know what you're doing wrong. You don't know why you're not good enough.

What you do know is that you want to be on those teams. Those teams are stepping stones to get to the senior team and the senior team is the road to joining the big clubs.

The European giants that you so desperately want to play for.

Wolfsburg is your destination, in big blinding lights in your head.

You want to play for Wolfsburg. You want to dominate the German League with them and, hopefully, the Champion's League as well.

But Wolfsburg won't look twice at you if you aren't on Sweden or Denmark's senior team.

Hence why you're practicing now, saving shot after shot after shot in your fancy new gloves, standing in the new goal set up in your garden after a drunk Morsa stumbled into your old one and broke it.

Another shot streaks past your outstretched hands and you kick your goalpost angrily, rolling the ball from out of your net and back to Momma.

"You're not defending properly!" You tell Morsa, arms crossed over your chest," You keep letting her win!"

Morsa laughs, like she can't see how important this is to you. "We're just playing around, princesse."

"We're not! I'm practicing!"

"Take it easy. It's not the be all end all."

"It is!"

You stamp your foot and Morsa laughs again, fondly ruffling your hair and you want to scream.

"You're not at training, princesse. It isn't that serious."

"It is!"

"It isn't."

"Magda," Momma says warningly," Leave her alone."

"Pernille!"

Momma grabs the ball and starts dribbling.

Morsa still isn't taking it that seriously, making a few attempts at getting the ball again but ultimately leaving Momma enough room to take another shot.

You catch it this time, falling to the ground to hold it against your body like Zećira has always taught you.

You stay on the ground for a while, drawing big deep breaths into your lungs.

Pernille sits in front of you, nudging you gently with her foot. "What's going on, huh? What's got you all high strung?"

You huff and mumble," I don't want to talk about it."

"You're not usually this short with us," Pernille says," Talk to me. What's going on?"

"It's stupid."

"If it's upsetting you then I don't think it is."

"Everyone else has been called up for the youth teams," You let the rest of your words go unspoken.

"You'll get there," Magda says, still standing nearby," It'll happen eventually."

"I don't want it eventually! I want it now! Everyone else has been called up! Everyone else is getting game time with the youth teams!"

"People develop at different times," Pernille's trying to soothe you, to talk you off the ledge," It's perfectly okay to not be going to camps the same time as everyone else."

"I should have accepted Germany's offer when I had the chance!" You say and that's when Magda and Pernille know you're being serious about this.

"Just because everyone else is going doesn't mean that you're a worse player," Pernille says to you," You shouldn't measure yourself against them."

You sit up. "Whatever." You grab the ball, angrily booting it all the way to the other end of the garden. "I told you it was stupid."

"Princesse-"

You move to go back inside.

"Come here," Magda says.

You ignore her.

"Don't ignore me! Come here!"

She's using her captain voice, the one she used to use when she played for Sweden. You know better than to ignore her now.

You stand in front of her, looking up.

"You worth is not reliant on whether or not you get into the youth teams."

You scoff. "Maybe not to you."

"Princesse-"

"But don't lie and say big clubs don't start picking out future players from the moment they lay eyes on them. No one watches random youth team matches at club level, not really. But they do watch it at international level. I know that. You know that."

"I know that," Magda echoes," But you have all the time in the world."

"Do I?" You say," Do I really?"

"You're fourteen. You have so much time."

You look away. "No, I don't."

You're growing up now, shooting up like a weed but Pernille's still taller than you, still tall enough to rest her chin on the top of your head and hug you from behind.

"Tell me what you need, princesse. What do you want out of this?"

"I want to be the best. I want you to help me be the best."

"Okay," Pernille says," We'll help you be the best."

[ilium-ilia]

In Limbo

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | mafia!au | masterlist

Chapter Fifteen: worthless sacrifices

tw: panic attacks, grief

“C’mon sweetheart. Stay with me, baby.” 

It’s the alleyway all over again. Reality slips right through your fingers faster than water or sand. It spills at your feet and soaks into the floor and the heels of your shoes as Simon’s hands hold you steady. You can’t feel his warmth, but you feel the pressure of his grip against your shoulders. You can’t breathe. You’re trying to; desperately, your diaphragm contracts viciously over and over again, yet it makes no difference. Head spinning, mind reeling, you’re trapped in your apartment with your eyes glued to the floor, now ruined by some malevolent intruder. 

You’re spiraling faster than you can handle. Marco’s letter rests in a half crumpled mess in the clutch of your fist, but the curve of his handwriting still haunts you. It lays just behind your eyelids, scarring your retinas until all that’s left of your vision is his warning. You’re up against that wall again. Back against the cold surface with his hand up your skirt and a corpse at your feet. Just like always, you fawn. Never strong enough to fight back. Always smart enough to know there’s never a chance that you’d win. 

Simon’s fingers wiggle through your palm, coaxing the stiff digits to unfurl as he takes the letter out of your grasp. He doesn’t read it on purpose, but he sees the fractured glances of what he needs to. The late fee. The letter M—M for Marco. He tosses it haphazardly to the side where it joins the rest of the mess at your feet. 

“Chip. C’mon sweetheart, talk to me,” he presses. It’s difficult to keep his tone even as wary eyes flitter around the apartment. The blinds are drawn shut, but he knows you’re far from safe. Prying eyes lurk everywhere, and Marco always likes to poke his nose where it doesn’t belong. Every muscle in his body screams for him to drag you out of that room and bring you to safety, but he bites back that thought as his hands gently rise to cup your cheeks. “Listen to me. Listen to me, baby. You’re okay.” 

If you hear any of his comfort, it doesn’t do much. Wide, dilated eyes stare through him as your chest heaves with your breathing. It rattles along your windpipe like screaming iron as the air expels from your lungs too quickly to make any use of the oxygen. His thumbs swipe along your cheeks, briny wetness coating his skin, and he ensures you can’t look anywhere else besides him. 

“Look at me.” His plea prods something in the back of your mind, and you finally force your eyes to focus on him. Your bottom lip quivers as your hands reach up to rest on his chest as you steady the weight that throttles your body. “You’re okay.” 

Muscles seizing, you shake your head as your fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt. “No. No, you don’t understand. You don’t understand what he’ll do to me.” 

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” Simon attempts to rationalize. His comfort falls on deaf ears as you continue to shake your head and knock your fists against his chest as if you’re attempting to wiggle out of his grasp. “I’ve gotta get you out of here. Breathe, sweetheart. I’ll get ya somewhere safe.” 

“Nowhere is safe!” you wail. Any further attempts you make at wiggling away is quickly thwarted by his grip on your face—loving, but firm. You’d fall to your knees if it wasn’t for his strength. “I can’t get you mixed up in this, Simon. I can’t. Can’t call the police. Can’t do anything. I just- I don’t know! I don’t know what to do! I just- I don’t wanna lose you, too. I can’t keep- keep doing this. I can’t keep losing people. I can’t lose you, I’m so-so fucking tired of this. Simon, please, I don’t know what to do!” 

Your prattling only makes your fear sear through your veins until you’re sobbing. It’s unforgiving. Nothing but white hot metal that doesn’t care where the damage ends or begins. It doesn’t care where the scar forms; where the skin adheres. He tries to soothe the ache, but it’s everywhere. How can he allay a pain when it’s ingrained in every strand of DNA that creates you? When it’s all you’ve ever been composed of? 

“Alright. Alright, no police. Nothing. Just me and you, yeah? I’ll take you to my place. It’ll be safe,” Simon explains. He’s walking backwards, attempting to slowly coax your body into following him. “We need time to work this out, but we can’t do that here.” 

“I-I can’t let you do that,” you babble. 

“We don’t have time to argue,” Simon huffs. He’s getting frustrated. Anxious. He doesn’t like being here in the midst of this chaos. This mess Marco—and whoever the fuck else—left for you. He needs to get you someplace safe and hidden—someplace Marco can’t hurt you. “Please baby. I wanna help you. Let me help you.” 

You freeze at his plea. Suddenly, that searing hot pain doesn’t seem nearly as bad as the echo of an old ghost begins to rattle your brain. Your hyperventilation quells and dies down until it’s nothing but a set of pathetic hiccups and sniffles. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you eventually nod. “Okay,” you breathe. “Okay…”

As you swallow back a sob, you hope this time is different—lest this deja vu kill you. 

Breathing doesn’t come easy. With each intersection Simon drives through, your hands clench until the tips of your nails leave crescent moons in your palms. You look at each vehicle you pass by with agita. You scrutinize every detail of the drivers, searching for any terrible familiar face. Nothing jumps out at you, but you refuse to trust anything; anyone. You have never been safe in this city. All it has is sharp, rusty teeth and hands that refuse to let go even after your breathing has stopped. You’ve been trying to scrub off its fingerprints your entire life, and all you have to show for it is raw skin. 

A rippling scream tears through your muscles as Simon’s fingers brush against the back of your hand. Jumping, you look at him with wild eyes. His solicitude is obvious. It etches deep into the thin line of his lips as he stares at the road ahead. Thick fingers wiggle between yours until your hand is enveloped by his. He’s much warmer than you are—running off pure anger and frustration—and you try not to grimace at the way your sweat rubs off on his skin. Feeling your gaze on him, he glances at you from the corner of his eyes before giving you a firm squeeze. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assures. It’s all he’s been saying since he found the door to your apartment kicked in. “We’ll figure this out. Promise.” 

By some miracle, you make it off the streets alive. Simon doesn’t let go of your hand until he’s pulling into the garage nestled beside his house. The neighborhood is quiet. Pushed to the edge of the city, the houses are spread far and sparse with trees for coverage and large yards perfect for rambunctious animals or squealing children. His house stands proud and tall with personable red brick and pristine white paneling. It reminds you of the area John and Aelin live in, albeit a bit less extravagant. Perfect for small families wanting to get out of the city. 

You didn’t think working security at a club would make someone that much. 

Simon doesn’t exit the car until the garage door closes, and he quickly retrieves your bag from the backseat before helping you out of your seat. You stare at the object in his hand. Right now, your entire life is in there. It’s only a handful of clothes and some personal hygiene items; you didn’t exactly have time to pack anything besides what was already in there from the holiday. It’s just like when you were a kid—running from foster home to foster home, living out of suitcases until you were able to be saved by John and Aelin. Everything always comes back somehow. Cycling over and over again, forcing you to relive the things you can never seem to outrun. 

Feeling your trepidation, Simon takes your hand again before bringing you into the house. Like Orpheus leading Eurydice out of the underworld, it feels like you’re stepping into a different dimension. Breathing comes easier, and warmth envelops you as he sits you in the living room. 

Dazed, you glance around. Everything is blurred—just out of focus—too anxious to properly take things in. You can make out the cushioning beneath you and the dark stained coffee table that separates you from the wide screen TV. Tools and metal parts to some sort of machine lay scattered along the table, something Simon apologizes for in a hushed chuckle. Abrasive cleaning solvent hangs in the air, but it’s too stale to burn your nose. 

“Here.” Simon settles next to you and you feel the cushions shift beneath his weight. He holds a glass of water for you to take, and for a moment, you’re transported to the night Andrei cornered you. You recall how you woke up in the conversation pit of one of the VIP rooms in Terminus, and how Simon’s first instinct always seems to be to nurture you. Protect you. “You should drink.” 

As you raise the glass to your lips, your emotions quietly quell and cocainize. Fear still attempts to rear its ugly head as it rips through your thoughts, biting through anything comforting until it’s ruined just like everything else. Cold water crashes over your tongue, fighting off the pertinacious snot that haunts your mouth from your sobs. It doesn’t make you feel any better, but you see the way Simon’s shoulders melt with each gulp, so you do it anyway. When you’re finished, he takes it from you and sets it among the mess of metal tools and parts on the coffee table before bringing his full focus to you. 

Elbows resting on his knees, his hands fiddle with one another like he wants to reach for you again—to hold you until either hell freezes over or the pain ends—but he doesn’t. Sniffling, you stare at the floor in front of you, arms wrapped around yourself. You can hear the thoughts in his head before they even manifest into words from his mouth. 

“Tell me everything,” he says. 

“You’re not going to believe any of it,” you say. It’s supposed to be humorous; a joke. Something to take off the edge of your worries, but it comes out flat and fighting. You don’t want to tell him. You’re tired of reliving this nightmare. 

“I’ve seen a lotta crazy shit, sweetheart. Doubt this can be any worse,” Simon coaxes. He shifts and the weight echoes through the couch. It forces the cushions to dip and your body to go with it, pulled toward the gravity of him. “That note? It mentioned something ‘bout a late fee. Do you owe someone money?” 

Solemnly, you nod. 

“How much?” 

You swallow. “Three hundred thousand.” 

Not even Simon can hide his surprise. It’s an absurd number. Something that would only be owed to a bank for a house loan, not a person or organization. It’s significantly more than what his brother owed, and the confusion settles bone deep in his body. 

“How much have you paid off?” he asks.

“That’s not how this works,” you mutter. 

Simon’s question contorts on his face well before it leaves his mouth. You see it in the shift of his body in your periphery. It’s a precarious situation—keeping this secret the way you have; for as long as you have. It’s been decomposing inside of you, filling you with noxious gas that builds and builds. You feel the pressure. The way it tears at the seams of your body. You try to keep it bottled up—under tight lock and key—but when you finally gain the courage to look at him, you know you’ve already lost. 

“This is my dad’s debt,” you begin. “He worked for a man named Vladimir Makarov. He’s not… a good person. He works in organized crime groups. The mafia. That sort of stuff. I guess my dad messed up badly on some sort of job and got himself killed, costing them a good chuck of cash. Since he was too dead to pay them back, they sent a man named Marco to try and pressure my mum into paying, and when she wouldn’t, he killed her. Then, it was my turn.” 

Your voice cracks like a log being consumed by fire, and it burns just as bad. Keeping this noisome secret buried deep inside of you hurts just as bad coming back up as it did when it was first shoved down your throat. But Simon doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t grimace or wince. He stays firm as he listens, leaning closer as if ready to catch you when you fall. 

“Marco… didn’t give me much of a choice. I didn’t know what to do, so I said I’d pay it because I was terrified of what would happen if I didn’t. He threatened me, telling me I shouldn’t tell the cops, so when they arrived, I didn’t. Not even through their questioning. None of it. I was alone. I had lost my dad, my mum… everything.” 

There are certain things you leave out. Things you don’t think you’ll ever be able to say even if you whispered it into some void that wouldn’t echo a single word. If you told him about what Marco did to you—about how his hands defiled you the way they did—would Simon still look at you the same? With what you’re so desperately hoping is love? Would he think it would be worth it—loving something tainted? 

Too afraid to find out, you choke back the memory before continuing. 

“I had no family. None that would want me, anyway. Sean Gilroy, Aelin’s dad, took me in. He was the Chief Investigator working the case of my parent’s deaths. He housed me, along with her mum. I think… I think they were used to taking in fosters. It’s… really fitting of them to do so. But he was too smart. Sniffed out that something more was going on, and I just- I just broke and told him everything. 

“He tried taking me to the police station to get a proper report, but we got into an accident on the way there. Some car t-boned us in an intersection. It was planned. It had to have been, because when I came to, fucking Makarov was there. Sean was stabbed and- fuck, they must have been tapping his calls or something, because they took some sort of chip out of his phone before leaving, a-and he was on the phone with someone while we were driving. O-Or maybe I’m just wishing that’s the case because… fuck, Simon, I got him killed. I told him even though Marco warned me and he’s dead. I-I killed Aelin’s dad and she doesn’t even know. The coroner said he died from injuries related to the accident and they all fucking believed it and I’m the only one who knows the truth. I’m a fucking liar, and- and I hate myself so much for it-”

Everything begins to spin and you’re at the epicenter of the destruction. It’s too fast. Unrelenting centripetal force rips you apart cell by cell. You fall into Simon just as he reaches for you. Face buried into his chest, he holds you with firm hands on your waist and head as your tears soak into the cotton of his shirt. Right now, he’s the only thing keeping you together. The only thing attempting to mend the cracks rapidly splitting you apart. Kissing the top of your head, he mutters quiet assurances to you as your shoulders jolt and heave with your cries. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “It’s gonna be alright.” 

“I’m not naive enough to believe that,” you sob. “This isn’t a debt I can truly pay off. They’re not gonna stop when I hit three hundred thousand, I know that. That’s not how this works. I can’t get out of this, Simon. Even if I give them all the money in the world, they’re still gonna follow me. Marco terrifies me so much a-and I know he’s not gonna let me go that easily.” 

There’s a heavy silence that breaks with each sob that racks your body, and instead of shushing you or whispering useless comforts, Simon just holds you. It’s firm and unwavering just like the steady thud of his heart against your cheek. He keeps you there, tucked beneath his arm. You think he’ll keep you here until the world begins to crumble, and then long after it’s withered to dust. He breathes slow and deep, rib cage expanding against your own until you’re in rhythm with him. Even. He’s the only flicker of solace you’ve been able to taste in ages. 

It takes time for you to swallow the steady stream of spit that plagues your mouth, and you choke back the snot rummaging through your sinuses. You’ve been reduced into nothing but a babbling child—always a child. Something weak and small. Clever enough to think you can slip out of this mess, yet never brave nor smart enough to complete it. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle. Your well has run dry. Any evidence of your tears now lays soaked into the fabric of Simon’s shirt, heavy and thick as it sticks to his skin. “I… I shouldn’t have told you about this. Now I’ve dragged you into this too. This is dangerous shit. So many people I’ve cared about have died already, I… I shouldn’t have let myself get close to you. You don’t want to be around someone like me.” 

“I’m not leavin’ you.” Simon’s response is quick. It bursts free from his mouth like a secret he never even dreamed of keeping. Arms tensing, his hold on you only grows stronger. 

“Simon, I don’t think you understand,” you breathe. A plea bubbles up in your throat, half prepared and bitterly sour. “The only person I ever told about this died because of me, and I-I can’t stand that happening to you, too. You… you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone. You can’t tell anyone. If you even try to do anything about this, you-you’re just gonna end up like Aelin’s dad, and I don’t think I could handle that. Please, Simon. Promise me.” 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, baby. I handled that scuffle with Andrei fine, I’ll handle anyone else who tries to lay a fuckin’ finger on you. I’m not lettin’ you do this alone,” he promises. 

Something shifts. There’s a change in reality. A thickening of the air so palpable that Simon nearly suffocates on it. He feels the way your breathing halts—he yearns to feel that subtle rhythm return against his chest—and his heart stutters. It begins to shred itself cell by cell. Aorta crushing in on itself, shattering all valves and cusps. 

Your movement is slow. Practiced and careful. You raise your head off of his chest and despite his better judgement, he lets you. Simon watches you carefully as you look up at him. He doesn’t like what he sees. There’s a heavy frost obscuring your gaze. Your lips tighten together and your brows furrow as if you’ve found yourself caught in the den of some beast—

—like you’re face to face with a monster. 

“That… man in the alley… I never told you his name.” 

This is where the facade slips—where the mask shatters and Simon is left with nothing but the horrid truth he tries to hide. It’s easy to lie. Might as well be second nature to him at this point. An expert storyteller, omission of truth is just as easy to spew at you as the unadulterated version itself, and still, he hesitates. Simon thinks that—maybe if only for a moment—that you deserve the whole story. Something not shrouded in a thick umbra. 

But it’s this deliberation that has your mind swirling in an inescapable tempest. You think of the worst—you think of Makarov. 

When you fully retract from Simon, he lets you go, and it burns. It’s as if your flesh had been ripped from his, and now he holds nothing but a wound. The look you give him hurts worse. Those wide, dilating eyes; lips parted as if ready to draw the breath to scream. 

“How do you know Andrei?” you demand with a waver in your tone. 

“I didn’t know him until I caught him in the alley. I swear it. I couldn’t let the bastard get away, not after what he did to you, so I figured out who he was pretty quick after that night,” Simon answers truthfully. “Had Johnny’s help, of course.” 

“Do you know how dangerous that is? How dangerous Andrei is?” you snap. Frayed nerves, exhausted adrenals—you’re at your limit. You’re standing at the very edge of what you can take. “He works with Makarov! With Marco!”

“I don’t care how dangerous it is, sweetheart, I’ve dealt with worse.” His fingers flex. They miss your warmth. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he rests his hands on his knees. 

“This isn’t a joke, Simon, this is the fucking mafia, you can’t just-” 

“There’s more than just Makarov’s syndicate.” 

There’s not enough air in the room. It’s siphoned away from you, forced elsewhere, someplace of better use where you can’t continue to waste it. He’s insinuating something you’re not sure you want to uncover the meaning of, but your heart and body already know the answer. It trembles at the thought that this man who can hold you so tenderly could be capable of the same violence inflicted upon you by others. 

“What do you mean?” 

You need to hear him say it. 

“I’m not like Marco or Andrei, I’m not like any of ‘em,” he assures, “but I work for Price, and the Price family has been in this business much longer than Makarov has.” 

You open your mouth to call him out on his mendacity, but no words flow forward. His words rattle around in your mind, and still no matter how many times they echo off your skull, you can’t get them to make sense. It’s wrong. Contradicting everything you ever knew about your friends—about the only family that you have left. 

“You’re lying,” you breathe as you shake your head. 

“I’d never lie to you,” he swears. 

“No, I know John and Aelin. For fucks sake, I lived with them. They’re not like that. John isn’t like that, he’d never hurt people like- like the way Marco does.” 

A canyon forms between the two of you, and the divide only grows wider. Simon watches the way you retreat, curling away from him like his very presence forces you to wilt before you’ve even bloomed. 

“Price is a good man, but that doesn’t allow him to run away from his family legacy. Trust me, if he had a choice, he would have nothin’ to do with it. He was forced into this bloody business, and despite its reputation, he’s done a lot of good with it. One of the only reasons why I joined was because of him. Because he gave me the opportunity to do something good,” Simon attempts to explain. “Terminus is a front for the business. It’s how he keeps an eye on things. Keeps people in the neighborhood safe. This isn’t like the movies with bullshit senseless killings, sweetheart. There are rules and traditions to uphold.” 

“This doesn’t make sense,” you sputter. “So John just… just runs this mafia and you’re… fine with being a part of it? You really expect me to believe this?” 

“Why do you think I’m so good at fighting? Think I picked that up at Terminus? From tossin’ rowdy cunts out on the streets when they got too handsy? You think Mrs. Price asked me to keep an eye on you just because I work for John? That she’d ask some fuckin’ bouncer to protect you? Nuh uh. You think anyone would just have the resources to hunt down information about Andrei? A bastard who covers his tracks better than the goddamn American CIA? I told ya, I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m tellin’ you this because you're safe with me. You don’t have just my protection, but John’s, and everyone else who works for him.” 

“And Aelin? She just…?” you gesture with your hands, sharp and jolty. 

“She’s fully aware of everything.” 

That incessant ringing returns to terrorize your tattered hearing, and you can do nothing but sit and let it wash over you. There’s a culmination of confusion and betrayal that ferments and addles the raw neurons in your brain. The pressure builds and strains until your hand clasps over your mouth to obscure the smile on your face. It tears across your lips like a wound. 

Then, you laugh. It’s not light. Far from sweet. Razor blades slice through your throat as your titter sputters out like a dying engine. Burying your face in your hands, you rub at your eyes as if you can erase this reality away and jump into the next one. 

“So… you mean to tell me that the whole reason I kept quiet… what I was doing to keep them all safe… It doesn’t even matter because they’ve been in this mess the whole fucking time anyway?” you bite. 

The irony is bitter. It burns worse than bile on your tongue. Your entire reality lies in shards at your feet, and a bilious tingle gnaws at the back of your neck. Conflicting emotions throttle one another in your chest cavity, and you can feel your vision begin to tunnel. Questioning everything, your hands fall from your eyes and you stare at Simon. He’s steady, tight lipped and wary. 

Can you really still trust him? 

“They wanted to keep you safe. They didn’t wanna drag you into that type of life. John’s got strict rules ‘bout that,” Simon attempts to rationalize. 

“Safe? A lot of fucking good that does me.” Adrenaline peaks in your system and you feel the muscles in your legs contract. They’re telling you to flee. Run far away from this issue and never return, and you just about listen to it. 

Shooting up to your feet, your hand clasps over your mouth. This is too much to process. You have so many questions swirling in your mind, none of which you can fully articulate. You’re at the precipice of shutting down for good. “I need… I need time to think about this.” 

Simon mirrors your movements, and he’s on his feet within an instant. He studies you; scrutinizes every flicker of emotion that crosses your face. Careful hands extend as if ready to capture you—ready to keep you close where you’re safe in his arms—but he doesn’t make any movement besides nodding. 

“Of course. This is a lot, I know, and I’m sorry sweetheart. But I’m here, yeah? Not gonna let anythin’ happen to you. I meant what I said ‘bout keepin’ you safe.” 

The thick pads of his fingers ghost against the side of your arm as he steps forward. He needs to swaddle you. Wrap you in his arms. It’s all selfish. It’s all for himself, but he just needs to know he’s not about to scare you off for good. That he hasn’t lost you. 

Both his fingers and his heart stop when you flinch at his touch. 

“I think I need to be alone right now,” you say flatly as your shoulder retracts from him. 

For a moment, the only thing Simon can do is stare. Arms wrapped around your torso, eyes reddened from irritating tears—it doesn’t feel right. None of this does. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as his jaw flexes, thick muscles dancing through his cheeks. When his teeth crush the tender flesh inside of his mouth, he can nearly taste his own blood. It’s nothing but sour iron. His hand falls away from you where it rests at his side, but his fingers still twitch. They still miss your warmth. 

Eventually, even though it feels like it kills him, Simon nods. “Whatever you need, sweetheart.”

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[vroomvro0mferrari]

CL16 | Oblivious

Sorry it took me so long, I was really busy with finals the last couple of weeks but I've finally finished the fic from the poll! I hope you like it :)

Summary: Charles has been blatantly flirting with Y/N for months, but she's the only one who hasn't noticed.

Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader

WC: 2.4K

Warnings: None

Masterlist

Charles was busy in the garage, talking with his mechanics when he saw her walk in. Y/N Sainz, the younger sister of his friend and teammate. He had seen her many, many times when she came to support her brother at his races. It seemed like Charles could sense her presence, knowing she was there without having seen or heard her, always looking up right when she walked in. Y/N Sainz was greatly loved by the Ferrari employees. With her bubbly personality, witty jokes, and bright smiles, all the team members enjoyed her presence. And Charles couldn’t help but feel the same way, although Y/N was completely oblivious to his affection. 

His face lit up when their eyes met, instantly smiling at her company. As soon as she was close enough, he greeted her, “Ah Y/N! Nice to see you again, you look lovely today!” He grinned.

“Oh, thank you, Charles. You’re so kind!” She responded with a bright smile as she hugged him in greeting, the flirty undertone going by entirely unnoticed.

Charles had been enamoured with Y/N since the first time they met. In an effort to not come off too strong and scare her away, Charles tried to flirt with her subtly. However, after several occurrences without any reaction from Y/N, it seemed his flirting was too subtle. Either that or she was not into him. But he couldn’t give into that possibility just yet.

As time passed and Y/N became a more familiar face in the paddock, Charles’s flirtations became bolder. He’d constantly try to include her in conversations and would make up all kinds of excuses just to talk to her. Whenever he did manage to string her into another conversation, he’d try to make her laugh as much as he could. Simply because he could, and because he loved to see her happy and smiling. And if he was feeling really confident, he would even go as far as to touch her arm or the small of her back while they were chatting away or walking around the paddock together. Nevertheless, to Charles's frustration, Y/N didn’t seem to notice his underlying motives, dismissing his actions and words as nothing more than friendly gestures.

Meanwhile, everyone else who had ever been around the duo seemed to have caught sight of the one-sided infatuation and attempt at courtship. Everybody except for Y/N had noticed Charles was desperately trying to make his feelings for the girl obvious, but she simply kept friend-zoning him. Frankly, he found it embarrassing. 

Nearly all of Charles’s fellow drivers had been caught up in one of his attempts to woo Y/N while she simply brushed his compliments off as friendly comments. It was hard not to notice Charles’s fruitless flirting when he did it right in front of them, but they didn’t say anything about it. His colleagues merely exchanged knowing glances with others aware of the situation, amused at Charles’s futile attempts at winning Y/N over. But as time wore on, and Charles kept trying, at least a few of his colleagues started to comment on his persistence, calling him a simp, and joking about his poor flirting. Some suggested he should stop his pursuit of Y/N, as it seemed she wasn’t interested, but Charles was relentless: he would not quit until he knew for sure Y/N Sainz didn’t and would never like him.

And so, when Charles spotted Y/N walking through the paddock with Lando, one of the people in the paddock she got along with better, talking animatedly and laughing loudly with each other, he approached her once more; he would seize any opportunity to blatantly flirt with Y/N. He quickly caught up with the two, putting his hand on the small of her back as he matched his speed with theirs. “You’re absolutely radiant today, chérie” He greeted her with a cheeky grin.  

Y/N looked to her side, greeting the new presence “Hey, Charles!” As oblivious as always, she sweetly smiled up at him and replied, “Thanks! You’re such a sweet friend!”

Lando was a mere bystander in the situation as he observed the interaction, surprised and amused at the ease with which Y/N once again waved off the man who was so clearly crushing on her. He held his opinions back until Charles left, “Wow, you certainly have no trouble friend-zoning him, don’t you?” He commented.

Y/N cocked her head as she looked at him, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Lando laughed humourlessly, “Dear God, you really have no idea?” He paused, “Y/N, Charles has been flirting non-stop with you for ages. How on earth have you not noticed?”

She stopped walking and looked at him in confusion, “He’s not flirting with me, Lando, he’s just being nice. He’s a good friend.” 

“I’m actually quite sure he’s flirting with you, Y/N. So is everyone else. You could literally ask any of the drivers, and they would confirm it. The Ferrari employees too, I reckon. He likes you, Y/N.” He said unimpressed.

“Charles likes me?” She asked softly, suddenly turning shy, a blush creeping onto her face.

Lando sighed, realising his friend was even more oblivious than he initially thought. “Yeah, he does. I’m honestly surprised you’ve never noticed.” He gently squeezed her shoulder before they parted ways.

— — —

For the rest of the day, Y/N thought about Lando’s words. She thought about all her interactions with Charles over the last few months and realised that he did compliment her quite often. 

Once, on a sunny afternoon, Y/N was chatting with some of the Ferrari team members near the garage when Charles spotted her. He, as always, decided to walk over to talk with her, his usual charming smile on his face and mischief in his eyes.

"Y/N, only you can make a sunny day even brighter," he said with a big, playful smile and admiration in his voice.

Y/N blinked at him, surprised by his sudden appearance and his bold statement. "Oh, thank you, Charles! That's really sweet of you to say."

Unfazed by her obliviousness, Charles pressed on, determined to make his feelings known after such a long time. "No, really," he insisted, his gaze unwavering. "I mean it. You bring a brightness to the paddock that I can't quite explain."

Y/N laughed softly, “Well, um, thank you. That’s very kind. What can I say? I try my best.” She replied with a smile.

Another time, Y/N was in the team hospitality when she accidentally spilt her drink, leaving an obvious stain on her white shirt. Charles, who was, unsurprisingly, standing nearby (as always), had noticed immediately and courteously offered one of his extra Ferrari shirts. When he saw the girl he had liked for months in his clothes, wearing his driver’s number, he naturally couldn’t resist the urge to flirt with Y/N.

"Have I ever told you how stunning you look in red?" he remarked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and fondness at the sight of her.

Y/N laughed and replied, "No, I don't think you have," smiling at him in a friendly manner.

"Well, consider it said," he said, his tone playful. "You wear it better than anyone else, that's for sure."

Y/N laughed softly, appreciating her friend’s words, "I doubt that’s true, but thanks, Charles."

Thinking back to these moments, Y/N realised maybe Charles had indeed been flirting with her. However, he might just be like that with all of his friends, complimenting everyone he cares about. Nevertheless, now that Lando had brought this to her attention, she would surely pay extra attention to what Charles would say to her tomorrow.

— — —

The next day, Charles had caught her in a conversation again. They were talking about the race and the current situation with Ferrari. He mentioned the pressure from the team and all the fans that want him to do well, and that the car and the strategies aren’t working the way he wants them to. Of course, Y/N tried to reassure him; to relieve the pressure and stress Charles was feeling. He absolutely adored the way she was trying to comfort him and was not afraid to let her know, “I have to admit, Y/N, nobody can cheer me up like you can. You calm my nerves like no one else,” he said, looking at her lovingly while he expressed his feelings.

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. This was the first time she noticed he was flirting with her whilst he was actually doing it, and she had no idea how to react. When she felt her face heat up, she could only assume she was blushing from the nerves. She diverted her gaze, trying to come up with a good reply to Charles’s advances. How did she usually respond when Charles complimented her? She couldn’t remember now.

Charles was confused at Y/N’s lack of response to his remark. Normally, she’d immediately smile at him and thank him for whatever compliment he’d come up with, but now, she was looking away, and - was he seeing that right? Was she blushing? He had flirted with her countless times, but she had never blushed at any of his comments. Had she finally noticed his advances? Charles watched her with an amused smile while she searched for the right words.

Eventually, she shyly smiled at him, meeting his eyes in a fleeting glance before responding, “I’m glad to be of help.”

Charles, Charles, proud that he was the one to cause her flustered appearance, decided to push a little further, curious to see what would happen, “You really have no idea how much you mean to me, Y/N. Your support helps me so much.” Charles smiled gently and put his hand on her arm. When there’s no immediate response, he continues, “Anyway, I have to get ready for the race. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Y/N merely nodded and watched him walk away.

Her brother had been watching the interaction from a distance, observing the way his sister responded to Charles’s obvious flirting and, too, noticing the difference. “You finally figured it out, huh?” He said with a teasing smile. Y/N rolled her eyes at him in annoyance, but Carlos just continued, “You should let him know you like him too.” Y/N didn’t respond. “You do like him don’t you?” He asks, confused at her unresponsiveness. “Leave me alone, Carlos!” She replied, pushing her brother away. He laughed at her; that reaction was enough for him to know the answer to his question. He ruffled her hair and walked away, also needing to get ready for the race.

After her short talk with Charles, Y/N was sure that he liked her, but how to proceed? She could barely focus on the cars going around the track while all types of ideas were racing around in her head. What on earth was she supposed to do now? Should she wait until the next time Charles would flirt with her, or should she make the move instead? Considering Carlos’s advice, she decided she should take matters into her own hands.

She walked up to Charles as soon as she saw him entering the garage after the race. She had always thought Charles was incredibly attractive – like most women, but he looked especially handsome after he had raced.

“Hey, good job on the race!” She greeted Charles, pulling him into a hug. She looked at him for a second or two, contemplating whether she should actually do this. She smiled up at him shyly, “You know, I love the way your hair looks after a race.” She said blushing, running one of her hands through his messy hair. Charles is surprised at her comment, but he’s shocked at her hand in his hair. This is the first time she has complimented him – or at least, initiated it. Let alone, her touching him in such an intimate way. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly agape as he stared at her in disbelief. It was now Charles’s turn to be flustered as Y/N finally reciprocated his attempts at flirting.

In his silence, Y/N decided to continue, “It’s hot.” She said, avoiding eye contact. Charles was unsure how to respond. He had never experienced a situation like this before; he always knew exactly what to say, but she had caught him off guard. After Y/N had friend-zoned him countless times, he was definitely not expecting this; he was not sure what to do.

The absence of a reply only made Y/N more nervous. She distanced herself from him, letting her hand fall from his hair, realising she probably shouldn’t have touched him without permission. Charles was quick to notice her retreat and held her face to stop her from leaving. He raised her chin to make their eyes meet and asked her softly, “Let me take you to dinner?” while he stared at her with adoration.

Y/N smiled at him fondly and nodded her head, “I’d like that, Charles. I’d really like that.” 

“Good,” He said firmly, his smile growing wider, matching hers. “I have to leave now for the debrief, but I’ll text you, okay?” 

Y/N nodded her head in response, letting out a hum. Charles pulled her face closer with the hand on her cheek, and fleetingly kissed her forehead before leaving, looking over his shoulder to catch her gaze one last time.

Y/N stood still in shock for a while, processing what just happened. She had agreed to go on a date with Charles. She was staring outside, letting the situation sink in as she watched people pass by in the busy paddock. Suddenly, she spotted Lando waving wildly at her, trying to get her attention. When he realised that she had seen him, he smiled mischievously and gave her a thumbs-up, assuming the kiss he saw Charles give her was a good sign. Y/N rolled her eyes at him, annoyed by his nosiness, but Lando just laughed, amused at her bother and glad his meddling had helped.

[allfearstofallto]

if you’re still doing the yandere alphabet, could you do E,L,P,T,X, and Y for childe? no worries if not, I love ur writing! <3

I've definitely been wanting to write more of these!! Thank you so much!!!

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

TW: Yandere, obsession, mentions of stalking

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Childe is open. More open than you'd want him to be and more open than you're willing to hear. You tend to not care about his back story or his interests, but he'll tell you regardless and you're forced to listen.

But if you do listen, really listen, really take in what he says, maybe you'll be able to see how much information he omits. Stories he laughs off like they're funny, are traumatizing in nature. The things he says are horrifying, scary in a way that would change a person permanently. 

He assures you that no such thing has happened with a playful smile, but you see the subtle twitch of his eyebrow and quiver of his lip. He's truthful, but not completely honest.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Childe is one of the few yanderes who's approach will be different based on where his standing is with you.

Know him as that one guy you met on the streets of Liyue, the one who was rather charming, but also rather persistent about seeing you again and he'll court you proper. The whole nine yards. He'll be the ideal boyfriend, albeit with a few quirks that can be brushed off. Mostly his fierce, protective jealousy and strangely short temper. 

Know him as the fatui harbinger? He'll also be just that. It's even worse if you owe money to the northland bank, a debt that he insists that you pay back with your affection rather than money. He won't even attempt to hide his true nature. You already know who he is and what he's capable of. Rather, he'll try to force you to fall in love with the real him, by any means necessary.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling? 

Patient as a fighter, patient at heart. Childe isn't inherently cruel. At least to you he's not. He'll give you time, space, conversation, whatever he thinks you may need to make you more comfortable. But that isn't him being generous. His patience comes with the expectation that you'll eventually fall into the role expected of you.

Refuse or even worse, actively fight him after all the kindness he's given you and you won't see that tolerance anymore. Expectations are higher with harsher consequences if not done when he wants, exactly how he wants. 

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Oh, does he hate that crying face of yours. He can't stand to see you sad, let alone actually sobbing. Each tear rolling down your cheek is like a stab to his heart, he can hardly bear the agony.

He's quick to console you when you cry, especially when he's the one who caused it. Although he can't help, but notice you tend to cry harder when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. Even though he hates your tears, he hates the disdain you have for him more. 

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Worship is a strong word. Childe loves you. Adores you. He does put you on a bit of a pedestal, believing you to be better than most people. But worship? Worship is a bit much.

Childe doesn't feel like he has to win you over. The depraved side of him believes he already owns you. Of course, you also own him as well, if you so desire. But because of that, his actions has him seeing you as almost an equal. Almost. There are still times where he loses himself in the desperation and desire to have you completely.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Like a fish needs water, like a man needs air, Childe yearns for you in a way that's animalistic in nature. Childe knows about you long before you know about him. 

“Snapping” is a term that can't entirely be used for him because of this. You can't really lose it if it was never really there. The second he saw you, the second he felt the way he did, the way you made his heart pound the same way it would if he were to be thrust into the throes of a fierce battle, he's already plotting how he plans to take you.