#it's like my hands don't want to cooperate anymore
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laundry, magnesium supplements, then off to bed and then another day of work
#i hope i'll have enough time to try and wipe up the rest of the spilled sparkling wine in the walk in freezer#like i just slightly bumped the box with the bottles inside while getting out other bottles to restock the fridge#AND WOULDN'T YOU KNOW IT ONE BOTTLE SIMPLY SHATTERED#sparkling wine everywhere. spilled all over 5 crates of other drinks. couldn't get it all.#thankfully the box soaked up most of it#but still the walk in smells so strongly of sparkling wine now it makes you dizzy even just opening the door a couple seconds oops#why am i so clumsy lately i drop at least 5 things per day now why am i like that#it's like my hands don't want to cooperate anymore#like my brain says be careful hold on tight. but my hands sometimes just go NOPE and i drop the thing i'm holding#or bump into things. and it just always makes a mess. which means more work for me and sometimes others. ..
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kiss me better, love
as the two of you stumble into bed after a Valentine's dinner date, theo realises it's not fair how much he loves you (theo nott x reader)
a/n - valentines fic #2 !!!! thought of this idea in a class literally 5 hours ago and idk if its the sleep deprivation but this is sooo self-indulgent writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet frfr 😭 all I have to say is if this isnt me and my future partner I dont want him I send him BACK
tropes/warnings - physical touch as a love language, angry theo but also soft theo 🥰🥰 no (read: minimal) proof reading we die like men etc etc
word count - 1.5k
taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @ebriton @thaliashifts @friedfreyfries @allie-sturns
The door shuts behind you both, plunging the room into near-darkness. You barely take a step before bumping into Theo, your knee knocking against his thigh, your hands flying to his shoulders as you stumble.
"Merlin,” he mutters, steadying you with a grip at your waist. “Can you - ”
“You're the one barging into me,” you shoot back, tucking a lock behind your ear as you tighten your grip on Theo’s shoulder, making him wince.
“Anyway, like I was saying, it hasn’t even been a week since Missy - ”
Theo exhales sharply, blindly reaching for the zipper at your back. “Is this something I really need to be hearing right now?” he asks somewhat waspishly.
“Yes.” You barely register his tone, still preoccupied. “So I walk into Charms in Tuesday, expecting to find Josh understandably distraught and/or in mourning. But who do I see him chatting up instead?"
"Hair."
You gather your hair up in one hand to hold it up and go right on talking. You barely notice Theo's largely ineffective attempts at pushing your sleeves off your shoulders.
"Pansy Parkinson! Pansy flipping Parkinson. What, does he think he's a free man now or something? Melissa's halfway across the world, she's not dead."
"Mhm."
You sigh exaggeratedly at his lackluster responses.
“Well? Don't you have to anything to add?"
“Yeah - hold still.” You This is just ridiculous, Theo was thinking. What kind of dress needed buttons and a zip?
You huff, switching your hair to your other hand. “Honestly, Theo, have you listened to a single thing I’ve been saying the past hour?”
Theo groans, still fumbling at your lower back. He had figured out the buttons were decorative, bless him, but your dress was on the more delicate side, and if he ripped it, he'd never hear the end of it. “Uh, yeah, that Abernathy guy...he’s two-timing Melissa?"
“He is not,” you say, peering over your shoulder to see what was taking Theo so long. Seriously, what was going on back there? It doesn't help, though, not when you can barely make him out in the dark. “not yet at least. He might. And if he's going to, well, isn't it better she finds out now rather than ten years down the road? Or am I an awful friend for thinking that?"
"Thinking what?" Theo asks distractedly.
"Willing my best friend's boyfriend into cheating on her."
Before he can formulate a response, your stubborn zipper finally decides to cooperate and moves down an inch - snagging at his finger. A sharp hiss cuts through the dark, followed by some emphatic, muttered swearing.
You pause.
“…what was that?”
Theo slips his injured finger out of his mouth briefly, his voice strained as he struggles to keep the pain out of his tone. “Nothing.”
You shift slightly, trying to catch his expression in the dark, but he’s suspiciously still now, his hands nowhere on you anymore.
“Theo.”
“I’m fine.”
Your brow furrows. Then, his suddenly subdued demeanour and oddly neutral tone clicks in your head.
"Did you hurt yourself?"
There’s an immediate rustle, followed by Theo’s very delayed attempt at nonchalance.
“…no.”
Oh, you could throttle him. “Was it the zip again?”
“You keep saying that like I do it intentionally - I never mean to-”
“And now you're trying to suck the pain away like a child?”
“Would you rather I bleed all over your dress?”
“I’d rather you watch what you’re doing so you don’t get maimed by a bloody zip in the first place!”
Theo exhales sharply, his frustration palpable. “I keep telling you - I don't-”
“You never mean to, but here we are.” You cross your arms. “Third time in two weeks, Theo. This is getting ridiculous. Should I hire a nurse for our dates? A medic? Do you need to start taking my clothes off under medical supervision? Is that what we've come to?"
Theo glares at you (or the shadowy figure he was mostly sure was you), trying to pull his attention away from the stinging pain. “Oh, don’t start - ”
“You don’t think before you do things.”
Theo groans. “I think plenty.”
“No, you rush plenty. Really, it’s a miracle you still have all your limbs -”
He rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go.”
“First, you burn yourself on my curling iron -”
“Okay, one, you shouldn't be leaving your things out like that.”
“Then you cut yourself opening a tin of biscuits -”
Theo tips his head back in exasperation. “You sh - you literally shoved it at me!”
“ - and now my zipper is out to get you?” You throw your hands up. “What are you telling me, Teddy? That every item I own has a personal vendetta against you?”
"Mattheo agrees with me, you know," you continue smugly, in a so-there kind of tone. "He told me about that time you nearly broke your neck falling down that flight of stairs on the way to Transfiguration, which wouldn't have happened if you weren't - "
"Rushing, I know." Theo steps back as if to escape. “Merlin, you are insufferable - ”
“And you are reckless.”
“I don't need you to lecture me.”
“You’d be fine if you just listened to m - show me your finger.”
A brief struggle ensues.
You lunge; he sidesteps. You fumble blindly for his hand; he twists out of reach.
“For fuck’s sake -”
“Stop being so difficult.”
“I’m not being difficult, you’re being a menace.”
“At least I don't get mauled by zippers.”
“I'm telling you, that zipper has it out for me."
“Well, maybe if you weren’t always in such a bloody rus - ”
“Enough with the rushing!”
“I can't help it if you never learn - ”
“I do learn,” he snaps, stepping back further - only for you to grab onto his wrist and pull.
There’s a shuffle, a scuffle as Theo stumbles back into the dresser with a thud.
“Oi - ”
“Oh, stop squirming, you big baby.”
“You stop grabbing- ”
“Theodore, you are injured. Act like it.”
“I am n- ”
“Then give me your hand.”
A long, heavy pause. Then -
“No.”
You groan, exasperated. “Merlin, you are the most - ”
“And you are relentless - ”
But at last, in an impressive show of determination, you manage to latch onto his wrist, wrenching his hand towards you before he can twist away again. Theo groans in frustration, but you’ve already found the wound—his fingertip, warm and damp against yours.
“Oh, for - ” You tighten your grip as he tries to pull away. “You are bleeding!”
Theo tenses, his entire body bristling. “It’s nothing.”
“On my zipper,” you say incredulously. “Again.”
He exhales sharply as if this is somehow your fault. “You don’t need to make a whole production of it - ”
“I told you to be careful - ”
“And I was - ”
“Clearly not enough!”
Theo groans, tipping his head back against the dresser. “I’m buying you a tear-away dress next Valentine’s.”
You bite back a smirk. “I’d like to see you figure that one out.”
He mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but you’re already bringing his hand up, brushing your lips over the wound.
He stills.
The fight, the irritation, the tension - all of it dissolves instantly under your touch.
You press another kiss there, softer this time. Through a sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains, he sees your face - your impish expression, your eyes, alight with amusement and plain adoration. You watch his face too - his furrowed brows relaxing, the slight part of his lips, his sharp features softened by something indiscernible.
His eyes flick to yours.
And Merlin, it’s not fair, he thinks. It’s not fair how you can drive him to the brink of insanity one second and then look at him like that the next, like you could never get your fill. It's enough to make him think you're worth all the trouble you put him through. It's enough to make him want to slow down. Merlin knows the last thing he wants is to rush through his days with you.
“…better?” you murmur against his skin after a moment.
Theo exhales, rolling his eyes as though he isn’t already relenting. "It's a start," he says grudgingly.
Your smile widens as you bring his hand up again, pressing another kiss there, then another, then another.
Theo groans, tipping his head back again, his frustration dwindling with every sympathetic brush of your lips.
“You like this,” you tease.
“Shut up,” he mumbles, but his voice has softened, his body relaxing into yours.
You grin, pressing a kiss to his wrist. Then his palm.
Theo groans again, for reasons unrelated to his earlier irritation, his fingers curling at your waist.
You laugh softly. “Want me to kiss you better everywhere?”
Theo smiles weakly, pulling you closer. “That's the best idea you've had all night."
#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott fluff
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strictly professional

words: 500
warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, model!rafe, agent/manager!reader, semi public sex
“im only doing this for you once, okay?” you clarify as you sink down to your knees.
“i can handle it myself.” rafe grunts out.
“except you haven't. i got them to delay the shoot by an hour and you still come out with a boner. if you want to be a successful- and rich- model, you can't act like this.” you take a deep breath as you bring your hands to rafes thighs. “as your agent, im going to help you because im not losing my cut from this shoot just because of your dick.”
you don't give rafe anymore time to argue and pull his pants down to his ankles, taking his underwear with them.
rafes cock springs up, the tip a pinky red that clearly gives away just how long he's been this hard, painfully hard.
you don't give yourself much time to think about it, opening your mouth and dropping your lips around rafe cock. you pause for only a moment to taste him, to flick your head against the leaky slit, before you begin to move.
you only got the photographer and brand rep to agree to an additional thirty minute delay, so you can't spend a minute too long cherishing the moment.
your head starts to rise up and down, almost robotic motions as you repeat to yourself in your head that this is strictly professional.
sure, one of the reasons you got into the model representation industry was to be around hot guys, but you do have a particular knack for management and spotting good potential stars.
you feel rafes hand in your hair, but he doesn't push you down, just an extra pressure to encourage you to keep momentum.
you spotted rafe on vacation in the outer banks, approached him instantly, probably flirted a bit too much, and then handed him your business card. you weren't sure he would reach out, but were pleasantly surprised, clearly enticed by the riches you promised would come his way from his bone structure.
you know his face and body can take him far, if only his body would cooperate. you put all your focus into sucking rafe off.
you listen to his soft sounds, the way his breathing gets loud and almost turns into moans. you wish in that moment you could really hear him, but there's no way with the entire crew just outside of the door.
you feel the urge to gag but swallow instead, trying to keep it down as you feel rafes cock swell inside of your throat, his length somehow seeming to grow only more.
you close your eyes tightly and push your head forward until your nose nuzzles into rafes skin, throat constricting around his cock as he lets out a low curse. you feel the way his hands tighten first, gripping your hair, and then his cock releases.
you wait for the spurts to subside before pulling off, swallowing thickly and trying to avoid coughing loudly.
you look up at rafe, his blissed out face, knowing your jaw is still slackened, eyes filled with tears.
“thanks.” rafe mumbles, his words bringing you back to your senses.
you wipe your chin and stand up, placing your hands on your hips. “get your pants back on, cameron.” you scold him, voice switching back to your typical agent tone. “the photographer is waiting.”
#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x reader#rafe x oc#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe imagine#rafe one shot#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble
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Ruler Of My Heart
Mark Grayson x Reader
Warnings: Death, Violence, Manipulation, Mentions of Invincible War
Notes: Gaku torturing Mark. Watch Alien Stage ( ꈍᴗꈍ)
Synopsis: Variant!Reader arrives just after the Invincible War, inciting trauma to Mark who recently lost you.
"Make me your god, I can give you everything."
This wasn't meant to happen.
You weren't supposed to die like this.
"(Y/N)! (Y/N) stay with me...! Please!"
He thought you were safe. He thought that you got away. He told you to go! Damn it, don't close your eyes!
Mark thought about flying to the hospital, to get you treated, but the way you grasped his suit made him hesitate. You were saying something but he can't hear it due to the blood rushing in his ears. His mouth opened to speak but all he could do was let out a sob as he held your hand close to his face.
"Please... I can't lose you."
Your last moment is kissing Mark, your bloodied lips leaving a mark on his' as you lay limp.
The war lasted for three days. A lot of heroes died, cities were decimated, and people were hurt, all because of those doppelgangers who made a deal with Angstrom.
Mark felt numb during the funerals, he feels like it's all his fault. Because he held back, because he doesn't want to kill, because of that... you aren't here anymore.
He can't even look at your casket.
During the reconstruction, people were understandably wary of him, too traumatized of the recent debacle. He wishes you were there to tell him that everything will be okay, that it'll pass and he's still the hero [Title Card].
A call from Cecil about an unidentified object en route to Earth snapped him out of his pity party, now looking forward to beat the fool who dared to choose his planet. No more Mr. Nice Guy, he'll kill whoever tries to harm the people he loves.
He found a marble white ship floating by the Pacific Ocean, unmoving but he can hear the faint the whirring of machinery. Prying what he can grab open, Mark readied his fist with a snarl towards the intruder but stopped short at the sight.
There you are, unconscious and dressed in white clothes that made you look regal, just like how he remembers.
But you're dead. Who the hell is this??
Initially, he thought that it was a Thraxan who shapeshifted into your likeness like how Nuolzot did with Seance Dog. He was rightfully enraged once the shock passed. Is this a sick joke? How dare they impersonate you?!
But then you wake up and called his name, confirming that this is real. You are real.
"Mark?"
Mark took you home in a heartbeat. It was a foolish decision, really. Who in their right mind would bring home someone who looks exactly like their dead crush? Definitely not him.
Perhaps it was the clarity that came after, when Mark started panicking. Who are you??? Why do you look and act and...
Why do you look at him like how they used to?
Mark needed answers and you're surprisingly cooperative. Then your story starts to get too familiar. You literally retold your whole life story just as he remembers it. Is it really you? Did you somehow survived? No, he saw you die. How did this happen? Some magic or space-time bullshit?
Mark doesn't care, not when you look at him like he's the most important person in the world, not when you smell the same when he buries his nose to your neck, not when you card your fingers through his hair and laugh just how he loves it.
Ah... You're back.
Mark ignores the warnings that his friends tell him. You're not dangerous! You're you! You're back, so what's the deal, Eve?? Oliver, they're not an enemy, stop arguing with him. You agree with me right, Mom?
Even Debbie finds you suspicious. She saw the funeral and saw you get lowered to the ground, so who is this person who wears a mask of your face? She tried talking Mark out of it but he doesn't listen, begging her to understand that you're just disoriented from the previous events.
Mark remembers how he failed to confess his feelings to you back then, and it became one of his many regrets over the days following your death. But it doesn't matter! You're here now and he'll be damned if he doesn't shoot his shot. With clammy hands and a nervous voice, he asked you out in one of your favorite places, hoping for the best that you'll accept.
Holy shit, you did. Well, more like you were confused as to why he's confessing since you two were together since the start, yeah?
What the hell, sure.
You were clingy, always wanting to be near him every second of the day, not that he minds, he's as clingy as you. You kept littering his face with sloppy kisses, marking him while mumbling that he's yours. Whenever someone gets too close or if he spends too much time with someone else, you're dragging him away for a cuddle session regardless of the situation. Okay, a bit too clingy, but it's fine! Mark lets you do whatever you want to him, partly because he doesn't want to upset you in any way and he's still reeling over the fact that he saw you die.
He loves it when you sing to him before you two sleep, he didn't knew you have such a calming voice. You should be a singer or something! You only chuckle and press a kiss on his forehead at the comment, knowing full well that it's what your job is back in the Viltrumite Empire.
You are an entertainer, someone who sings to provide enjoyment to the people under the Empire. Despite your occupation, you hold quite the power, after all, it was you who handed Earth over to the Viltrumites. You don't understand why your Mark snapped at you for joining the enemy. Why wouldn't you? Shouldn't he also join them? They're his own species! Sure, he's half-human, but Humanity hold no flame against the might of the Viltrumites. It's better to join them than fight, so why is he leading the rebellion?
While you climbed the ranks within the Empire, Mark's down on Earth, battling the agents sent to eradicate the rest of the rebels. If only he snaps out of it and finally comes to his senses. It's pointless! If he just accepts how things are, he can join the Empire! With your influence, he can even live a life of luxury, free of stress from fighting!
But he just had to be stubborn, doesn't he? You love that about Mark too. His resiliency, his kindness, his nobleness— you love everything about him. Aahh, if only he comes back to you... Maybe you can arrange it for him to be your bodyguard when he gets caught? The Viltrumites adore you, so they'll probably agree if you press the issue hard enough.
...Mark just got to die, doesn't he? You look beyond the glass from your room as the slaves bring in his body. A Viltrumite suggested that they let you see him one last time before he gets disposed off, since you kept begging for him to be brought to you. He just got to be stubborn in the end, doesn't he? He said he loved you, so why does he have to go and leave you alone?! Why does he have to protect the people who were ungrateful for his service since the start?! Why did he left you for them? Why? Why??
You don't let it affect your performance. You give the Viltrumites what they want while you wallow in your sadness inside your room. No matter how many gifts you receive from them can make you genuinely happy like you were when you're with Mark. Will this continue forever? Will you just survive?
Then Angstrom Levy appeared in your dimension, it was a mistake on his part, not knowing that the Mark of your world is already dead. When he fled by the strand of his hair after he got jumped by Viltrumite guards, you saw his ability. Portals? ...Of course!
If you can't have Mark here, you'll just have to find another.
And so, you proposed the existence of other dimensions to your masters, baiting them with the prospect of expanding the empire. Gullible idiots. It's a wonder how a mere human like you got this far but you're not going to question it.
It took some time, but they managed to recreate Angstrom's ability. It can only activate for a few seconds and it's unknown whether it really works and opens up in another version of Earth, so everyone's a bit reluctant about volunteering.
Not you, though. This is your chance of finding Mark again! If you die along the way, it doesn't matter! Living without him is death already!
They didn't took you seriously when you asked to be the test subject, saying that you're too fragile and that you better get back to your room since you'll be performing later. Your expression might've done the trick, since you saw some of them flinch. So much for being called an "empire".
That leads you to where you are now, with Mark in your lap, practically purring from how your pet his hair. It's adorable. You'll keep him when the Empire arrives the conquer this dimension, perhaps Debbie and Oliver too, to keep him company. All you need to do is activate the signal in this dimension to secure the connection back in your home, then you'll truly be together.
Unfortunately, you need to repair your ship that Mark previously wrecked, and the GDA has it for investigation. Cecil told Mark that it has traces of Viltrumite engineering but he believed you when you said that you know nothing about it. It's not entirely a lie, you don't have much knowledge about how your ship was constructed, but he drank your words like you're incapable of lying. Try all you want, old man, you can't separate us now.
Your requests are questionable at times, machines that you shouldn't know of is what you ask of Mark, and when he tries to ask about it, you only bat your eyes and insist that it's a surprise. He'd like that yes?
Maybe he should've heeded everyone's warnings. Maybe he should've been more logical. He should've known that you weren't the you he loved.
You only cup his cheeks and smile knowingly, like you had won a war you didn't participated in.
The Viltrumites from your dimension invaded his Earth, bringing the all familiar bloodbath with them. Mark was easily overpowered by the stronger soldiers, the difference in skill and power is evident from their varying experiences. And you, you stand atop the ruined city, untouched by the carnage you brought, looking at him with that innocent face.
He should've known. Those pure white clothes, that calm expression, the change in personality— Mark chose to ignore it, no, you fed on his delusions. You're a variant.
It's his fault all over again. He let you in, he protected you, deluded himself that you're the same person.
What's the matter, you ask, as you practically sauntered over him. He wants to glare, to clench his fists and pummel you to the ground for betraying him, for destroying his world, but he can't. Not when you look exactly like them. When he can see a glimpse of them on your face, your expression, your voice, your smile—
They don't smile like that.
Something in Mark snapped and he lunged forward, hands snaking around your neck as his fists landed on your face. He grits his teeth as he beats you up, his mind going overdrive as he sees himself beating the you of his universe. The you who died in his arms all those weeks ago. How dare you play with his heart like that! He loved you! You...
He stops with a gasp as he looked at what he'd done. A broken, bloody nose, a busted lip, and the deranged grin on your face.
Mark was pulled away by some Viltrumite Soldiers by then, pinned to the ground as they retaliate for him beating up their beloved pet. Before they could kill him, and before you could plead for his sparing, multiple ReAnimen swooped in to save him.
Amidst the smoke, you saw a glimpse of Eve carrying a battered Mark as she flies away.
#invincible#mark grayson#invincible x reader#mark grayson x reader#variant!reader#yandere reader#gaku's works!#invincible x alien stage
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so here's the thing
It's 2am, I should be asleep, but instead I'm on my phone scrounging in the dark for validation on AO3 and social media, and you've activated my trap card
Lately I've been thinking about their first meeting. What that was like. What the circumstances were. There're a lot of possibilities, a lot of ways to interpret how it could have happened. In my fics, I generally put a vague "assigned to him" sentence as backstory and leave it at that.
Here's how it went down in my head when I muse on it.
Robotnik is an unlikable loose cannon, right. He's the department's pet genius with anger issues. No one wants to work with him... blah blah we all know that story.
But what if no one wants to work with Stone? What if Stone is a problem, too? What if Stone is a high-performing asset who doesn't get along with others because he sees them as inferior. On missions, he doesn't play nice, doesn't cooperate, goes rogue to take care of things his way because he thinks he knows best.
Maybe one time he leaves a man behind. Maybe they assign him to Robotnik as punishment for it. Take him out of field work to be a lab rat's assistant. It should be a blow to his ego, and at first, it is. He's bitter when he walks into the lab that they would take their best agent out of the game over the life of someone who couldn't shoot a target.
Is it love at first sight? Is Robotnik getting funky to some loud music, hips gyrating all sexy like? No, I think Robotnik is cold and dismissive and everything we know him to be, and it shocks Stone out of his own anger. He knows about Robotnik, everyone does, has probably witnessed his wrath before, but Robotnik delivers a speech—something he intends to rile him up... except all it does is make Stone become smitten with him.
"So you're the one who fucked up so royally that they sent you down here as punishment?" Robotnik asks without turning away from his work when Stone enters the lab. "I read your file. High marks in everything except social skills. Must be the mommy and daddy issues."
"The—"
"Oh, that part was redacted, of course, but poorly hidden. It was child's play to retrieve the data. Orphaned at a young age, left to rot in the system, passed around from home to home because nobody likes a little boy who doesn't act according to society's rules. So you learned that you could only depend on yourself, right? That's what you think?"
Stone barely gets a syllable out before the doctor bowls right over him, still continuing to work uninterrupted by his own speech.
"But instead of that, you signed up to be a government dog. Learned to sit and stay and roll over. Dedicated your teeth to the man. Now you depend on higher-ups to tell you what to do, never thinking for yourself anymore."
Robotnik finally looks at him, sneering. "So since following orders is all you can do, be good and fetch me a coffee."
Stone is used to people being intimidated by him. He's used to watching them flinch under his stare, used to his presence causing others discomfort. Now, he's faced with a stronger force of presence that makes him want to avert his eyes and submit.
But he shows his teeth anyway in a facsimile of a smile. "You work for the same people as me. I'm not the only dog in this room."
Robotnik's hands still. His head turns to the side before the rest of him follows, an almost unnatural jerkiness to his movements, as if he were a robot himself. Then he grins, wide and maniacal. "That's the difference between you and me, puppy." He takes a step forward, then another, slowly approaching him as he speaks. "I'm the one holding my own leash. I bite the hand that feeds me. And I get away with it because they need me."
When he's right in front of Stone, he grabs him by the tie and yanks down to tighten it on his throat. "They don't need you. I could kill you right now and they'd dispose of your body without another thought. You wouldn't even get a proper burial."
Stone has more than enough training on ways to defend himself. Instinct should drive him to break out of the hold; it would be so easy. Robotnik is wide open. One jab would be enough to disarm him.
Instead, Stone feels something tickle in his brain. A pleasant tingling sensation. A certain rightness to this current situation. He looks up at the man grinning down at him, and he smiles. A real, genuine smile.
"Yes, Doctor. You're absolutely right."
Robotnik's brow arches. He didn't expect that reaction. It intrigues him, piques the scientist in him to wonder—what will it take to break the agent?
And as we see in the movies, it takes more than the doctor can dish out, because Stone loves every fucking second of what he's given.
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Keith would turn to hypnosis or brainwashing to make us love him if he’s fully snapped…?
Could I maybe please request a drabble about that por favor 🥹
Sweet Vacation
CW: kidnapping, brainwashing, fork harassment
Word count: 1345
You ignored the first signs that Keith wasn’t doing well mentally. When he’d turn his back to you at night and sob silently, you’d pretend not to hear it. When he’d spend his evenings staring out the window for hours on end, eyes glazed over, you’d find things to busy yourself with.
It did annoy you when he put a tracker on you. The fight that followed only made things worse. He became constantly paranoid, asking to hear your voice every hour you weren’t home, having breakdowns when you so much as left the room he was in.
There was no doubt that he wouldn’t accept it if you tried to break up with him. You never bothered to start the conversation. You simply packed your things one day, blocked his number and left.
Unfortunately, he’d used more than one tracker.
- - -
You awaken to an unfamiliar hardwood floor, head pounding and limbs stiff. So stiff, in fact, that you aren’t able to move them. Your eyes shoot open as you tug on the ropes tying your limbs to the chair you're sitting in.
The room you’re in is unfamiliar, a lavish living room with wooden walls and a large fireplace. A sweet, mind-numbing fragrance catches your attention. Possibly, the herbs burning in a bowl on the coffee table before you. All the curtains are drawn, so you fail to see anything outside. You can’t remember how or when you got here.
The sound of footsteps approaching brings your attention to the closed door. Keith appears from behind it, looking much more frazzled and unkept than usual. His hair is a bit messy, he’s not wearing the usual concealer under his eyes and his collar is askew.
“My love! You're awake!” He rushes over to you.
“Keith! What the hell did you do to me? Where am I?!”
He shushes you as he caresses your cheek. You want to scream at him, fight against your restraints, yank yourself away from his touch. But for some reason, as soon as those thoughts enter your mind, they fade away.
“Everything's alright, dear. You're safe now. I'm sorry about the ropes, but there was no other way. I'll take them off once they're not needed anymore.”
There is nothing sane in his gaze. His eyes are big and alert and his smile is too wide for comfort.
“Where are we?” you ask, much calmer than you'd like.
“Somewhere where nobody will bother us! Don't worry, it's just the two of us.”
You don't know what he's done to you, but your fear, anger and alarm are all much too mild.
“Oh! I've made you lunch! Let me grab it for you before it gets cold.”
He rushes off through the door, then returns with a plate of food and a fork. The sight and smell of it makes your stomach grumble. For how long were you out?
“I hope you like it! Open wide!” Keith holds some of it out in front of you.
Thoughts of turning away or refusing the food pass through your mind, then leave just as fast. You reluctantly open your mouth.
Even when he's crazy, he manages to make infuriatingly good food. You do not complain about being fed the entire plate. If you want to try to get out of this situation, you'll need the energy anyway.
“You ate everything! Good job!” he praises you cheerfully.
Then, he looks down at the fork in his hand. His eyes flicker between it and your mouth for a moment. Until they eventually settle on you as he brings the fork near his face and licks the part that's been in your mouth. Once his tongue reaches the tips of the tines, he sticks them entirely in his mouth.
You stare at him, dumbfounded. Before you can say anything about it, he sets the fork back on the plate and turns to leave.
“I'll bring you a glass of water! Can't let you get dehydrated!”
What the hell was that? How far gone is he?
You finally get your brain to cooperate and attempt to struggle against your bindings. Unfortunately, they're tight and secure. Looking around, you can't spot anything sharp enough to cut them.
When Keith returns, he's brought back not only your glass of water but also a small satchel. You eye it curiously as he helps you drink.
And once it's done, he sets down the glass and opens up the satchel. It's full of herbs, some of which he places in the bowl with the others. That mind number scent hits you again. Any thought you'd had of escaping is beginning to blur.
As if reading your thoughts, Keith answers. “Just a little something to help you relax! I know you're probably quite stressed.”
He puts the satchel away and picks up a book instead. “How about I read you something? That way you won't be bored!”
You want to say no, you want to reason with him, ask him to let you go, convince him none of this is necessary. But none of it leaves your lips.
“Okay,” you say instead.
- - -
It's been two days since Keith locked you up in this house. He's fed you and kept you hydrated. When he's not been taking care of you, he's been keeping you entertained or simply chatted with you.
Perhaps it's your fault you've ended up this way. You ignored the signs that he wasn't doing well. You weren't a very good partner overall.
This morning he made you heart shaped pancakes with strawberries. It was kind of cute.
Perhaps you don't need to escape, perhaps he will snap back to reality and release you himself. The two of you aren't good for each other.
- - -
Four days have passed since Keith brought you here. He untied you from the chair but kept your wrist handcuffed to his to make sure you don't run away.
It's a pretty nice vacation home. Apparently you're in the mountains. The view from the balcony is stunning. Although it gave you a bit of a fright when you woke up here four days ago, it isn't so bad.
Keith still insists that you let him prepare meals, despite you being able to help now. You can't believe you treated him so coldly before. When he discovered you had bruises on your wrists from the rope, he cried and kissed them better.
At night, when you get ready for bed, he asks if he can cuddle you. If you say no, he keeps his distance. When you do give him permission, he holds you tight and whispers that he loves you. He smells sweet, a bit like burnt herbs.
- - -
It's been a week since the start of your little vacation. You took a walk through the forest this morning, hand in hand with your beloved boyfriend. He told you about the plants that grow here and which ones are safe to eat. He's so smart!
When you got back, you made lunch together. He’s been a bit down and anxious the past few days, but today he was in good spirits. Though he still won't tell you where he got the new perfume he's been wearing. It's so sweet, it makes you want to hold him close constantly.
Now that it's evening, you're both sitting on the couch, cuddling as you watch TV. Keith holds you against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. You feel safe here.
“I love you,” you murmur.
He stiffens at once. Thinking there must be something wrong, you pull away to look at him. A mixture of shock and joy battles on his features.
“I love you too!” Tears are spilling from his eyes.
You laugh and cup his face, holding it still so you can kiss away his tears. Your boyfriend is so sentimental. His hand brushes over your chin, silently asking you to lean down. His lips quiver against yours, soft and uncertain. You press in lovingly.
Even the taste of his lips is sweet.
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Sleepover | p.w
Summary: you just needed to be warm and rest some after wearing your high heels all night, right?
Warnings: old!phil, dirty talk, mentions of big dick phil, cursing, dry humping, flirting, slight nipple play over clothes and mentions of sex.
a/n: wanted to share this cuz I have a big crush on Bradly Cooper since I watched Hangover. Enjoy like I did writing it !!
w.c: 914
main masterlist ↲
peace and love, penny ★
My legs were trembling; they were completely bare, and only my small dress covered a tiny percentage of my body. I was walking home, exhausted from the walk I had taken 16 minutes ago. The sound of my heels hitting the ground was the only thing my ears could hear until my ears heard someone call my name. I looked towards the next street, and the last person I expected to see was sitting on the porch of his house; it was my dad's friend, Phil Wenneck, smoking a cigarette.
"Hey." I approached him, trying to walk straight, but I could no longer bear the sharp pain of my feet against the sole of the heel. He looked me up and down, frowning.
"You okay?" he said while exhaling the smoke. "Y-yes." I lied, I just want to go home, but I can't, not now. "Are you sure, darling?" he takes a drag from his cigarette. I nod, looking away. "Are your parents home?" he looked at me, piercing through my eyes. "Yes," there was a moment of silence until Phil spoke. "What are you doing out so late?"
A small smile appears on his lips. "I wanted to go out with friends, but I'm grounded... and the only way for my parents not to know I'm out is by coming home late," I explained. "Could I know why you're grounded?" I barely nodded, "I was... with a boy in my room... thinking my parents wouldn't be home so early."
"Oh... how bad, darling." I know his words didn't come from him, I could tell. "I should go..." I said, embarrassed. My feet were going numb, and I couldn't take it anymore. "Stay," he said with a slight smile on his lips, "I don't know." At that moment, my phone vibrated with a message from my sister.
´Mom and Dad are still awake. I told them you're sick in your room, don't take too long.'
"You need to rest, little one. Come in, it's very cold out here," he says, walking towards the door of his house. After crossing the threshold of his home, I took off my heels and carried them with me as I followed him. "Would you like a blanket?" he said as he turned around, looking at me. I nodded and then pulled the hem of my dress down. I walked through his kitchen, waiting for his next move. I hadn't been here in years. Looking at my lock screen, I saw it was 2:40 am I locked it, and when I looked up, he was handing me a blanket. "To keep you warm, dear." I thank him and follow him. "We can stay in the living room while you wait." "Sure," I said kindly as I sat on the couch, and he positioned himself next to me, not too close. "Is Eli upstairs?" he shook his head. "He's with her mother."
I remembered that I used to take care of Eli when Phil was at work and his mother... was not there.
Trying to hide my evident shivering despite being wrapped in the blanket, I looked away, biting my lip. "Why are you trembling? Are you sure you're okay?" He tried to get my attention, but I was too embarrassed to look at him. He took my jaw to face me, gently squeezing my cheeks, and I unconsciously moaned. "You're so rosy," he frowned, pulling my head closer to him. "Phil..." I whispered, "What's wrong, honey?" That was the last straw; my panties were soaked, and my ragged breathing was evidence of the desire that covered my body, my nipples peeking through my dress. He noticed it and looked at my breasts. "Oh, sweetheart," he touched them dangerously, and I melted into his arms, letting him play with my breasts. "Will you let me touch you more?" I nod, biting my lip. With a quick movement, I was rubbing against Phil's thigh, dry-humping; I was like a bitch in heat, a moaning mess, as he was taking my hips, controlling my movements.
"Please..." I begged "I know, darling, do you want to cum?" he teased, moving me faster. I was a mess, my pussy tightened and throbbed against his thigh. I feel him moving his hips up. "Fuck, baby," he said, trying to get more friction between us. "I'm gonna come, shit..." I said ecstatically. "Do it," he whispered in my ear. With those words, I came, my pussy throbbed and tightened around nothing. "Oh God..." I whispered, and his hands stopped my movements without removing his hands from my hips. "Do you think we're done?"
I turned my head to look at him. "It would be better if you stayed. I can tell your parents you spent the night with me." I looked at him unconvinced. "You don't need to worry, trust me." Then he lifted me up and tore my panties, leaving them on the floor. And in a quicker motion, he unbuttoned his pants, pulling out his cock, then I looked at him surprised, Phil is huge. "That's so big," I said, looking up at him. "With this cock, I'll ruin that little pussy of yours," he whispered, sitting me on his lap just a few inches from his bulge. "Don't worry, baby, I'll make it fit so well," along with his words and my center soaking his pants, I knew I wouldn't be able to recover from the legs.
divider: @/enchanthings-a
#bradley cooper#smut#x reader#female reader#bradley cooper x you#bradley cooper x reader#phil wenneck#phil wenneck x you#phil wenneck x reader#hangover#bradley cooper smut#phil wenneck smut#oldermen#older is better#older male#handsome older man
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omg congrats for 5k doll! i wanted to slide in and see if i could have a protective!bf Gaz written since my baby is so underappreciated??? i saw this tweet about the scene in mw where gaz's disabling a bomb and is unable to and price throws the guy off the balcony, but this time the bomb in strapped to his love and he's and he's struggling and sees price out of the corner of his eye and remembers what happens last time and panicks and goes all 'you won't do that to her'. just a thought, love all your work!
—Don't Look At Her
⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞

"Gaz," your voice wavers, watching the rapidly working man and seeing his darting eyes—lit with panicked fervor. He doesn't answer, so you speak again. "Gaz!"
"No!" He barks, brown eyes instantly meeting yours. Lips pull in a right frown; there's a glint in his gaze that you'd never seen before—not in the many years you'd known him. Kyle's firm hands don't leave the wiring attached to your chest. The vest.
The bomb.
"No, Love," he grates out, immediately getting back to work as you try to keep your tears at bay, body jerking back and forth as your boyfriend pulls at the straps and bits. "Don't even say anything. You're going to fucking fine, you hear? It's going to be okay."
It was the product of bad intel, really. You'd been sent in without the proper know-how, leading to a scuffle where the butt of a gun had been slammed into your temple. When your eyes opened again, it was already too late.
Kneeling in the middle of a large office building, the glass of the windows shattered behind you, and the wind whips the back of your skull aggressively, you stare down at Gaz. Trying to form words on a tongue that won't cooperate.
"You need to run," you whisper out, resigning yourself as the rapid beeping increases. Your heart moves so fast you can't feel the skin of your chest anymore. "Kyle," pleading, you watch his jaw clench something fierce. "Listen to me—!"
"I'm not leaving you!" A sharp snap of a metal piece hits your ears, the piece of the vest clattering to the ground in a violent display of desperation. Gaz glances back up at you stubbornly; as if uncaring about the impending incineration only minutes away. "So you stop bloody talking like that, yeah? I'm not just giving up!"
The sides of your eyes dribble out rabid tears, lungs a mess of air and inhales that can't even be considered breathing anymore by how wheezy they sound.
How would it feel? Exploding into a patchwork of blood and fire—instantaneous, sure, but feeling Kyle's heat and his puffs of air; his fear, you can't imagine him dying like that. Not him.
"Look at me," Gaz pants, fingers pulling at cords in search of the one he needed to cut—unable to pinpoint it through the hack-job that had been done to your vest.
There was every color under the sun except fucking yellow. His teeth clench so tight they hurt his jaw, but he sends you quick glances as you shakily do as he says.
Brown eyes soften, and while the both of your hands shake, for a second there's a relief at the eye-contact. "Repeat it, Love."
You lick your lips and stammer, "y-you're not leaving."
Lips press firmly into yours, and you clench your eyes tight at the sensation, tiny sob breaking the contact.
"That's right." Gaz growls. "Not on my life."
Rapid footsteps race into the room, but before the Sergeant can reach for his weapon, the familiar call from the Captain echoes out.
"Friendly!" It's as if Gaz doesn't even register, still digging and fearfully looking at the timer.
50 seconds. 49. 48. 47...
"Sergeant," Price jogs over. You can barely find the inner strength to look up at him. "Sitrep."
Blue eyes dart from the vest to you and the Captain's serious face goes grim. His expression flashes with the inner workings of his mind, eyes narrowing and a grunt stuck under his lips.
"I have it," Gaz speaks quickly, and the words strike you as odd, though you don't comment. Price slid him a sharp look.
"Gaz—"
"Don't even look at her." Snarling like an animal, brown orbs are volatile enough to rend stone in two as they meet the older man's. You and John are rendered speechless, sharing a swift glance in shock like teenagers hearing their parents swear for the first time.
Kyle's eyes are wild, sweat slicking his brow. "Come fucking on!" He yells and your body is snapped forward as Gaz pries on the straps, having to steady yourself on the man's shoulders for support. Every muscle in his body is taunt; shaking with force.
Perhaps it was the memory that invaded his brain like a parasite that had made him snap at his superior like that—a stab to his fine tissue that digs all the way down his rail-straight spine.
Piccadilly Circus. Tanto building. Hostage with an explosive vest.
Kyle's fingers bleed as they peel back rough velcro, having ripped off his gloves to be nearer to you.
It all flashes past his mind in horrible increments, the past, but instead of a man—the hostage is you. And Price was burning his neck with a harsh stare once more.
He's going to throw her out the window, Kyle panics and you watch with the deadly realization of the situation. No. No, I won't let him. Not her.
"Garrick," Price says, voice deep. But he doesn't move. "You need to get your head back on."
"I've got it screwed on just right, Captain." Gaz grunts. "Trust me."
12 seconds. 11. 10. 9...
You stare at Gaz and memorize the make of his handsome face—the dates and the late nights speaking about the future sticking to your skin like leeches; sucking away every instance of love and happiness. His laugh. His brown eyes.
His smile.
Oh, you want to see your Love smile.
"Sergeant!" Price yells, moving forward to grapple onto Kyle's shoulder. "It's going off!"
Your boyfriend rips out of his hold, fists clenched and screaming.
"Get the fuck off of me! I can save her!" Your back hits the ground with a slap and a ragged gasp from your lips, the Brit straddling your hips in a desperate play to deactivate the bomb.
"Kyle," you look up at him, pleading. "You have to take cover, it's...it's okay. I love you, I need you to know that—"
"Bloody shut," eyes spark, locking on the bright color under the front of the vest. Gaz snaps a hand under the material and rips at it in a ruthless wrench of his arm. 2 seconds. There's a deafening snap of wire. "Up!"
The beeping stops and the world stills.
Your wide eyes can't stop crying as you stare up into brown eyes with astonishment; struggling to breathe. You can't tell if the building is vibrating or only you, but nothing seems to be able to focus as a wave crashes down on you; adrenaline still striking you.
Everything rings inside of your ears, pounding in your head.
Hands grasp the base of your jaw and lips descend to yours, tears slapping your skin from above in a wave of feral agony. Gaz stifles his sob on your mouth as you shake wildly, panting over your flesh.
Price gives off a large sigh from behind, standing straighter and turning his head.
Gaz's forehead connects with yours, but there are no words to be said—just the silent gazing and lingering fear of death. He won't let go of your cheeks, and, quivering, you go to grasp tightly at the sides of his arms.
With a shuddering breath, he closes his eyes and sags into you.

TAGS:
@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast
#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#cod mw22#call of duty#mw2#mw2 2022#x female reader#call of duty x you#cod gaz#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick#kyle gaz garrick#cod x female reader#drabble#5k celebration
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Reorganizing the Konoha teams
I know this is an old discussion that doesn't matter anymore, but I got back into Naruto and watched a video rearranging the teams, and it was weirdly bias for Sasusaku and added team 3/team Guy which was weird. So I decided to try my hand at it for fun:
So here are our teams
Okay to start with, we have to acknowledge the purpose of why they're together.
Team 7 is together because they're meant to help Naruto become a better ninja. Kakashi was Minato's student so there's the whole vow of protecting your master's son thing going on. Sasuke is there because he was the second top student in the academy (Ino being the first) and Kakashi has the sharingan, and Sakura was placed there because of her intelligence and chakra control. On paper, the combination made sense, but when you look at their grades on cooperation...
Putting two of the least cooperative people together with Kakashi as a sensei in a 4 man team was not a great move. I'm guessing they were hoping that Sakura could pull the team together, but did not take into account of her crush on Sasuke which set this team up for failure. Also, Kakashi's teaching method to solely use real life missions and his tardiness was not effective. These kids needed a more hands-on strict approach. Team practices back-to-back as if they're trying for the Olympics.
Team 8 is together because they're meant to be the manhunt team. They all have abilities to track people and take them down. With a sensei who doesn't play favorites, they're very effective as a group and as individuals unlike team 7.
Team 10 are together because of the Ino-shika-cho tradition which are absolutely perfect balance for reconnaissance missions.
If we had to choose which team is the best between Team 8 and Team 10, it naturally has to go to Team 10.
With 15 generations of team work perfected with the help of the Sarutobi clan who carries the Will of Fire, they have every angle of their team work covered. Yes, Team 8, is an effective team, but their skills are too similar that they don't blend well together on the battlefield and work better as individuals.
So taking that into consideration, we're going to have to permanently split the ino-shika-cho trio.
Because in all honesty, you can take out Choji and replace him with anyone else except maybe Shino. I'm sorry! I know Choji is a good boy, but as unique as his attacks are, he's just the muscle. And in all honesty, Naruto being in Team 10 would've helped him a 100 times more than team 7 because Shikamaru is a genius and actually likes Naruto, so he can help Naruto utilize his shadow clones better, and Ino actually cares about cooperation and her abilities that leave her vulnerable will give Naruto a sense of responsibility.
But we want Team 10's skills to be shared with everyone, so they cannot be together. In order for that to make sense, I guess imagine that they have older siblings who is already upholding the tradition as the 16th generation.
Moving forward, naturally one student on each team cannot leave their appointed sensei because they're compatible:
Team 7: Sasuke has to remain with Kakashi because of the sharingan, the lightning jutsu and their similar personalities. Yes, Kurenai uses genjutsu, but it's not a genjutsu at Itachi's level, and can't provide much more than that on the matter of skills. She may be able to provide a more motherly support, but taking Sasuke's background into consideration, I think a male role model similar to Itachi is more effective.
Team 8: Hinata has to stay with Kurenai because I can't imagine the other two giving Hinata the much needed attention and confidence she needs, especially from one female to another.
Team 10: Shikamaru obviously needs to stay with Asuma because they have that special bond as if Asuma is a second father to him.
Now we move on to the student who actually needs this sensei to help enhance their skills:
Team 7: Kiba would do better under Kakashi because the man uses dogs who he personally raised as his main summoning animal. Kakashi could've had Pakkun or his other dogs help train Akamaru with Kiba as his partner.
Team 8: Sakura is supposed be talented with genjutsu so naturally she should've gone with Kurenai in the first place in order to tap into that talent. I also think Sakura would've also seen a role model in Kurenai as a kunoichi.
Team 10: Naruto naturally has to be teammates with Shikamaru, but also because Naruto has a natural affinity for wind chakra, Asuma would've been perfect in training Naruto to wield it just as Kakashi taught Sasuke to use light chakra. It also helps that Asuma is the son of the hokage, so he can help Naruto on that as well.
And so we move on to the last three students:
Who I honestly struggled to place since again, Choji is a close-combat person which the other teams already have covered. So I had to consider where he would be the most useful.
I wanted to make an all-girl group with a flower-theme going on:
Hinata being the Sunflower, Sakura the cherry blossom and Ino the florist and they have a teacher who uses floral genjutsu. It was perfect! But then I thought about how they would actually perform starting out, and while Hinata does know some taijutsu, she's not very proficient at it, and the girls can't really help her in that department early on in this teamwork.
So here we go:
Team 7: I placed Ino under Kakashi more for Kakashi's sake than Ino's because the man would be inspired to actually train them as a team in order to take Ino's skills into consideration. Ino is a Sasuke fangirl like Sakura, but Ino is the heiress of the Yamanaka clan so she has more important responsibilities, and has applied herself in the academy to become its top student and likes to take the lead. She won't let her feelings for Sasuke get in the way of making everyone work together.
Team 8: I placed Choji in this team to provide some muscle, and be the training partner she needs to put more oomf in her strikes.
Team 10: I placed Shino in this team in order to do Sasuke's job and that was to cover Naruto's weaknesses and act as the tactician to Shikamaru's strategies. The poor boy also needs the spotlight, and the gags would be funny.
With all these teams covered, how would they work:
Team 7 (The Cool Group): The show makes it seem like Kiba is a copy of Naruto, but honestly, he's a lot more chilled (granted he's not a hated orphaned boy with a demonic animal inside), so with Sasuke, I can only see them having a friendly rivalry if not at all. If anything, even on different teams, Naruto would still declare himself as Sasuke's rival, and the chunin exams would alight that intensity. But even before that, it's not like they won't see each other and fight on sight so the bond is still there. Other than that, Kakashi would train them each separately (not just Sasuke) and together to help Ino use her jutsu which will instill that necessary teamwork. And with Ino's assertive attitude and Akamaru being everyone's support animal, they would have them eat meals together, and won't let Sasuke or Kakashi get out of it if they didn't have something urgent going on. Is it wrong to say this is the more functional version of team 7? Of course, shit hits the fan when Orochimaru attacks, and I'll leave how that turns out for others to imagine. Comment cuz that'd be interesting.
Team 8 (The Gentle Group): I believe Kurenai would've trained Sakura in not only genjutsu but on how to be the team leader in order to fully use her intelligence. She would have Sakura on mock survival trainings in the forest in order to not crumble under pressure, and use her team effectively. Kurenai would have Choji and Hinata train together to strengthen their taijutsu and their confidence.
Team 10 (The Weirdo Group): I believe Asuma, Shikamaru and Shino would collab together to help Naruto become a respectable ninja. Asuma would help Naruto learn taijutsu before introducing him to wind chakra. Shino would help teach Naruto what should've been drilled into him in the academy and under Asuma's observation, help Naruto on his tactics which Naruto is pretty good at since he's a clever prankster, but Shino helps him refine it. Naruto respects Shino for that, but is incredibly weirded out by his attempts to become friends and doesn't know how to break Asuma to do as he wants since the sexy jutsu doesn't work on a womanizer like him. As for Shikamaru, he's more involved in Naruto's training when actual missions are involved since he actually has to use his brain for them.
I could say more, but that's all I should say.
#ino yamanaka#Sasuke uchiha#naruto uzumaki#kiba inuzuka#shikamaru nara#choji akimichi#hinata hyuga#shino aburame#kakashi hatake#kurenai yuhi#asuma sarutobi#sakura haruno
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A scrap from your book
Bakugo x reader, aged up, college! au, quirks don't matter, no warnings, just heartwarming
Roommate Bakugo who is forced to share a room with you for about three months due to unexpected construction works in the college apartment he occupied. The whole Bakusquad was moved to random rooms. To make it worse they were all shared ones. You agreed to take in a male occupant.
Roommate Bakugo who tries to spend as much time outside of the cramped college room as possible. He feels like he's kinda invading your privacy as well as just finding the whole situation uneasy.
Roommate Bakugo who has to complete a bunch of assignments but the library is packed in the late afternoon hours, the air thick with gossip, stress, sweat and annoyance. Bakugo finally wandered off to the dorm room to find some peace for his work.
Roommate Bakugo who spotts you always turn off your lamp and tune down the brightness on your laptop when he tells you he's going to sleep.
"You don't have to do that." He grunts, already wrapped up in heavy covers.
"I don't mind, you do the same." Because he does.
Roommate Bakugo who walks on you watching a film he loves. At first he just circles the small room mindlessly, more interested in the unwrapping dialogue between his two favourite characters than the laundry he's picking up.
"You wanna watch?" You ask, pausing the movie.
"No. I was going to do my laundry."
"I can wait, I can buy some snacks in the meantime, I was looking for an excuse to do it anyway."
So the two of you ended up finishing the film together, sitting on your bed.
Roommate Bakugo who talks to you more, geting used to the situation faster than he thought he would. You both sit by your desks working on the boring college stuff. He spotted you were trying hard, not slacking around and keeping most of your deadlines. Even if he didn't want to admitt it, he was impressed. Not that he didn't do the same, it's just rare to find a person who actually cares.
Roommate Bakugo who didn't know how to phrase a sentence. He was working on a piece of paper for the last two hours after an intense day of workout and his brain refused to cooperate anymore.
"Can I ask you for a favour?" Your face appeared from behind your laptop screen.
"Depends on what is it."
"I finished a short essay and I wanted to ask if you could read it and tell me if it makes sense."
Might as well take a break to refresh his mind. Bakugo read through the text and came to the conclusion that you were a good writer. A very good writer in fact.
"How would you say that in other words?" He asked after you were happy with your work, your laptop tossed aside as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone.
You skipped to him, read through the sentence and gave him a paraphrase, one that he wouldn't think of himself.
"Thanks."
Roommate Bakugo who was eying you book collection for some time. You had a bunch. When he asked the two of you started talking and in went on and on and on. Finally, you stood up on your bed, the sheets dipping in where you stretched out to reach the highest shelve. Picking out a book you handed it to him.
"My favourite."
So he started to read it.
Roommate Bakugo who got a text from you that you wouldn't be back in the dorms for the night. After a shower he laid down in his bed, shirtless, with your book in hand. It was definitely worth it and he was way past the half already. Suddednly the doors opened only to reveal you, eying him up and down.
"The fuck you doing here?" Suddenly Bakugo felt a tad bit embarassed about his bare chest and lose sweatpants.
"My friend cancelled, sorry, you have someone over?" A small sly grin appeared on yoru lips.
"Jeez no, I'm just half naked."
"I don't mind." You shrugged, throwing your bag on the bed.
And what was that supposed to mean?
Nevermind. Bakugo wanted to get back to the story when he spotted something horrific. His hand gripped a nice chunk of the page, torn out of the book. He must have done it when you startled him with the grand entrance. It was readable as he only torn the cream white but it still looked nasty.
"Shit, I'm sorry." He didn't even look at you, opting on eying the damage, embarassement creaping up his cheeks for destroying someone's else belonging. One of yoru favourite belongings.
You came over, looked at the book and started to laugh.
"What's so fucking funny?" From embarassed Bakugo quickly merged into defensive.
"You look as if you killed my grandma. It's just a book." You saw that it didn't make him feel better, in fact the frown in his brows deepened. "I like my books being used. Lets treat it as a memory of you reading it. Give me the torn piece, please." Your hand reached out and he put the scrap into your open palm.
You skribbled something down on it using a pen fished out of your drawer. When you gave it back to him, the paper read 'Don't stress so much, dummy.'
"You can keep it." A smile brightened your face as you turned around to do other things.
Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that he kept that scrap in the back of his phonecase at all times.
Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that it took you roughly two months to steal his rock-like heart away.
#bakugou#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugo#katsuki bakugo#mha bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#mha
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Opportunities 2
A part 2 of one of my requests a while ago.
Summary: After listening to you and Hancock fuck in the room beside his, Cooper takes your care into his own hands and puts his little daydream into reality.
Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader
Warnings. Smut. Rough sex. Cooper isn't very nice. He was jelly. Rope play. Lil sneak peek at the end.
Masterlist
Cooper doesn't see you until the next evening when you come loping down the stairwell with,who must be, John trailing behind you. The other ghoul is handsome for their standards, and Coop already feels a mild dislike for the man. You are talking animatedly, hands gesturing this way and that, and John is all ears, listening to the smoothskin with a tiny grin on his withered lips.
Jealousy immediately surrounds him, and Cooper gnashes his teeth when you pass him by without a word, not even noticing the bounty hunter sat near the entrance. You only had eyes for the other ghoul, and Coop was not a fan.
He watches the two of you for a while, noticing the way the Mayor of Goodneighbor keeps you close to his side, one hand usually pressed to the small of your back as you laugh at some joke he spits. Cooper glares at the Ghoul dressed in red. He needed to get you away from the other man.
Cooper stands up and lopes to the bar, ordering a beer, and it's only then that you notice your traveling companion.
"Oh, Coop! This is John, I've been telling him about our adventures, " you say excitedly, and Coop grunts, gold gaze intentionally uninterested. It stings when he watches the excitement fade, and your lips turn down in a soft frown, but he isn't very happy with you at the moment.
He catches your eyes, mouth pulled into a sneer, "That's not what I heard last night."
You look at him in shock, and Coop feels even more like a dick, but it's not like he can take the words back. The mayor narrows his black eyes, and the hand on your waist tightens.
"Woah now, no need for that. We're all friends here," John drawls and gets a withering glare in return. He's about to pop off with something else when the smoothskin speaks up.
"It's okay, John. Cooper and I should probably talk anyway."
You had thought a lot about what happened last night and realized that if Cooper didn't want you like you wanted him, then you would apologize for the constant jabbering you had put him through. John gives your waist a gentle squeeze as you stand up.
"Alright, Sunshine. Don't leave me hangin'."
You grace Hancock with a kind smile and then slip out of your stool. Cooper leaves his beer behind as he follows you back up the stairs of the Third Rail and over to Hotel Rexford. Once inside the bounty hunter's room, you wring your hands in front of you as you stand before him.
"I'm sorry for bothering you so much about the - uhum- sex stuff. I won't do it anymore."
Cooper watches you, face impassive as you apologize, even though it should be him instead. He says nothing, and you stare at him with growing nerves and wonder why he wasn't saying anything. You laugh, the sound high pitched and wrong.
"Anyway~ I just wanted to say sorry, so I'll leave you alone now. We, uhm, we don't even have to travel together anymore if you don't wanna."
The ghoul finally reacts, and it's not in the way you expect. Cooper grabs you by the arm and spins you around, turning you towards the bed and shoving your face first against the mattress. He slots himself behind you, kicking your legs open and leaning over you to snarl in your ear.
"I don't want your fuckin' apologies, girl," He spits, tone dripping in jealous arousal, "I want you to scream my name like you did his last night."
Your breath comes in quick pants, and you angle your face up to peek at Cooper. The ghoul looks furious with arousal, and you can feel the hard length of his cock pressed between against the cheeks of your ass. A bolt of pleasure zings up your spine, but you can't help the sting of resentment.
"You only want to fuck me cause you over heard John and I the other night. Why the change?" You demand, but Cooper doesn't answer you. Instead, the bounty hunter has grabbed both of your wrists, pulling them up to sit in the middle of your back as he ties them together with a length of rope pulled from his belt.
Cooper isn't about to admit to his jealousy the other night and instead tightens the rope around your wrists, hips pressing into the thickness of your thighs and ass.
"You want me to fuck you or not, sweet thing?" He demands and slips a hand between your legs, pads of his fingers rubbing harshly against your clothed clit. You hiss, and dig your face into the mattress even as your body falls open for the ghoul as if it was made for him.
"Consent is important, sweetheart," Cooper snarls and flicks the button of your jeans open. His cock aches in his pants, and he wants to see you stuffed full of his cum. He wants to hear you say his name like that you had John's last night.
"Please fuck me, Coop," you plead, broken as easily as a two hundred year old light bulb. You've wanted your traveling companion for too long to be stubborn about it. You wiggle your hips to try and get your pants off quicker, desperate for him.
Cooper laughs and curls his fingers under the waistband, then jerks them down to bunch up around your boots. He pulls his belt open and hisses when his cock meets the humid air of the hotel room. He strokes his dick, squeezing at the base as he smooths up. Cooper leans forward and rubs the head of his cocks across your wet folds, and you push back.
"I should make you wait. Make you beg for it after goin' to someone else like you did," Cooper snarls hotly, and presses forward, just enough to split you.
"What was his cock like, sweetheart? I can promise mine will be fuckin' better."
Your eyes roll up and back into your head when the ghoul suddenly slams home. You huff and puff, hands flexing and wrist chaffing from the rope around your wrist. His pace is brutal, and his length drags along the fluttering walls of your pussy.
Cooper snarls behind you, hands digging into the meat of your hips as he pulls you back into his thrusts. You are tight, vice like and fucking perfect. The sounds the two of you make are sloppy, and your cheek heat up at the thought of someone else over hearing the two of you.
Behind the door, Hancock listens to the other ghoul fuck you until he has you howling his name, the sounds of sex loud and obscene as Cooper fills you up and keeps going until he's hard again, teeth bared as you whine and slobber into the sheet. John finds himself envious, but he isn't sure who of.
The major leaves with a smirk and a pep in his step. There would be other opportunities to speak with the bounty hunter.
#cooper howard#fallout#fallout prime#fallout tv series#cooper howard x reader#x reader#the ghoul x reader#john hancock x reader#john hancock#fallout 4
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Remember | Finnick Odair x Reader



thg masterlist / inbox / part two
summary: The capitol has taken you from him, but he won't let them keep you.tags / content warnings: violence, bullet wounds, major character injury, blood, needles, angst, fluff, no use of y/n word count: 4.0k
requested by anon: omg I love your writing and I have an unhealthy addiction to reading angst so could you please write something about the reader being with peeta and Johanna when they where taken by the capital and her being with finnick and recovering while she’s in district 13? 🫶🫶
a/n: The way I smiled when I saw this request I swear. This one has been in the works for a little while and I thought it fit perfectly. It is angst you ask for and it is angst you shall get. I'm considering writing a part two but I'm not sure how to yet. My bad habit of not proofreading happened again and with this one especially it was way too long so if I made any major errors pls do let me know.
The Capitol.
You are currently in the Capitol.
At least that’s where you think you are. You remember being in the arena, you remember running towards the general direction you last saw Finnick, remembering the marks you had gone by in case you had to take a different route. You remember seeing Finnick's face through the plantation, you’d be able to recall those features anywhere. You remember something hitting you from behind and falling to the ground, too caught up in catching up with him to check your surroundings. You remember crying out in pain, hoping he’d hear you. But the next thing you remember is the vision of him slowly going out of focus and losing consciousness not long after.
At least that's what you think happened.
At least you can still remember, that’s worth something right? You remember your past, and you remember the reaping that led to the arena. The flood of relief that went over you as you finally found your way back to him. You don’t know what happened to Finnick, he was there too after all, but you had needed to split up early. Maybe he had been caught off guard too. Maybe he escaped. Maybe they never even found him. Maybe with him being the idiot he could be, he was probably already on his way here, looking for you. Just like you would have done for him, and he would have called you an idiot then too.
You would get out of here one way or another, that much you knew, but you needed to remember more, you needed to remember the last look on his face, you hadn't had much time to take it in, but you remembered the furrow of his eyebrows, the same expression he always had when he was trying to concentrate, you needed to remember that.
You knew that once you did get out of here, Finnick would be furious, telling you that you had been reckless, that you shouldn't have let your guard down, shortly after telling you how worried he had been. And it would feel like coming home.
Your mind becomes hazier, and it is harder to remember. You feel your head throbbing, and you move your hand towards it until you feel it can move no further. You open your eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the bright light that covers the room. You can't see much, can't move your head much.
You remember the rendezvous point you had talked about. You remember the quick “don't get yourself in trouble” and the kiss he gave you right before you parted ways.
You remember the layers of plants and trees you moved through, seeing some of them cut down, letting you know someone else had been there
But you know there is more, more that you missed. The stomped-out ashes that you ran past, you know you should have paid closer attention. But you can’t remember
You need to remember what happened. How you got here. Who got you here. If you really are in the capitol. But your mind doesn't want to cooperate anymore. The room is getting darker and darker, even though the lamp above your head is still dutifully buzzing
You wake up, you still remember where you are, or at least where you think you are. You still remember yesterday, was it yesterday? Why couldn't they just hang a clock in here?
You look up, and you see a device set up, not too far from where you're lying down. You try to get a better look but the light above your head is too blinding to see anything else in the room. You don’t fully understand it until a man walks into the room with a video camera in his hand and an expression on his face that seems just a tad too happy.
The camera starts blinking a red light, signalling you that it has started recording. The man has a sort of laser that he presses into your lower stomach, it doesn't breach your skin but it hurts like it does. It takes all your energy not to show him the satisfaction of it.
“Come on now darling, work with me a little.” He says after a while, changing the setting on the laser. The last bit of your energy is gone, and you can't keep the screaming from escaping any longer. It echoes off the white walls around you and when you hear yourself, you barely even recognize it. He seems satisfied with the result and finally puts the laser down. You look down but don't see any burn marks or indication of what has just happened.
He comes closer and you can see he is holding a sort of crowbar, but you're not sure why. You remember how you always left one outside your window in the districts, in case the wind had shut it and you needed to sneak back in. You remember Finnick finding out, giving you a serious, disappointed look, but not telling you to stop.
Before you can think of anything else, the bar hits you with full force, right above the spot he was previously focused on. You didn't expect it, and it knocks the little breath you had left out of your lungs. He hits again, not in the same spot, but close, he is very clearly aiming for your ribs. The switching between high-tech and old-school weapons has you puzzled, but you can't deny the result either of them has.
After a while, he stops, and with the added difficulty and pain that now comes with breathing, you are more than certain he just bruised a few of your ribs.
He walks back, taking the camera in his hands. He aims it at your face and you close your eyes to try and collect yourself as much as your current state allows. Your hair is a tangled mess and you are rather certain there is blood smushed over your face from the cuts you got in the arena.
“Smile for the camera sweetheart.” He asks, even though it sounds more like an order than a request. You open your eyes to look at him. He is so close, and you want to drive your thumbs so far into his eye sockets you can feel the front lobe of his brain, if he even has one. But you can't do anything, no matter how much you want to fight, you are powerless here. You close your eyes again, trying to block everything out and remember.
You remember District Four, the way the light summer breeze would always carry the smell of the beach to your house, no matter how hard you had it, it always livened you up. You remember the first time Finnick tried to teach you how to surf, being so gentle with you no matter how many times you fell off it, always there to catch you again. You remember your last birthday, well, the day after, but you couldn't even complain about that. He had picked you up from your place and brought you to one of the lakes with him. He told you the story of one of his birthdays when he was younger, along with all the embarrassing details, but of course, it only endeared him further to you. You told him about the presents you got and all the people who came to wish you a happy birthday. You told him everything you could remember. You remember last seeing his face, maybe it was the last time you will have ever seen it. No. No, you remember it, but you’ll see it again, you have to.
“I’ll make sure your loverboy gets to see this, wherever he is, wouldn't want him to miss out on the fun.”
Finn. Finnick. You remember Finnick. You remember when you returned from your first games. The black eye and broken arm you came home with. You remember how he lost it when they didn't immediately treat you for it. He would now either throw a fit over it for everyone to see or be so stoic in his thoughts even Johanna would get a little concerned.
You see the man standing up, walking to the table, and picking up something new. A syringe, it's a syringe. He walks over and pushes it into your upper arm, and before you know it, your vision turns black again.
You remember waking up to gunshots, and you panic. But after a few seconds, you figure out they’re not near you. There is, however, someone in the room with you, it's the same man again. He looks a little panicked, but you can’t figure out why just yet. The gunshots are becoming louder, and closer, and he seems more startled now. His arms drop to his sides from what he was doing and his eyes widen. Screams are echoing and you can hear footsteps.
You remember that pattern of paddling feet, and you recognize the second pair of steps too, but you can't remember much else.
The man gets closer to you, placing his hand over your mouth, pulling out a gun with his free hand and telling you to stay quiet. You never understood why people say that, it means he has something to lose, and you want to scream out, but your voice doesn't remember how to.
It's even closer now, right outside the door, and you can hear talking. You remember his voice. How he always asked you so sweetly how your day had been, the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you fell asleep.
You hear the door jiggle, and it makes you want to scream out for him, but your sore throat won't let you. For a moment you think that is it, you had your chance, and you let it go by. He’ll move along the hallway to the other doors and leave you here. But then you hear another gunshot, and they must have shot the lock, because right after you hear someone running into the door with an echoing thump as it breaks open.
The man next to you had his gun pointed at the door, and he changes it to point at you instead.
You were right, by the gods you had never been so thankful to have been right. Finnick walks in, and you can see the colour drain from his face as he does so.
The man standing next to you is starting to get nervous, you can see the sweat starting to drip down his face. He must realize he has been matched, because there are more people by Finnicks side. But the man still has his gun pointed at you, and this isn't over just yet.
You can't keep your eyes open anymore, and when you close them, you remember. You remember your first kiss with Finnick, how nervous he had been at the time. He had been shaking a little and told you he was embarrassed by how much you got to him, but it only endeared him further to you. He yells at the man to let go of the gun, he sounds nervous again.
But he doesn't let go, he decides to shoot.
You hear the bullet leaving the gun, and for a single moment, you think it's over. The last thing you’ll ever see is Finnick, but he’s not himself. He’s upset, and even though you know he’s not upset with you, it still tugs at you. Except when you feel the bullet piercing through your skin, that's exactly what you realise. You can still feel it. He didn't shoot you right in the heart, he didn't shoot towards your head, he shot you in the abdomen. You’re not sure why, not sure why he didn't kill you, but you will never know, because not even a second passes as you hear a second gunshot, and he falls to the floor.
You can't seem to remember how to open your eyes, but you can hear Finnick rushing over and right as he reaches you, you fall. You fall into his arms and the memory of it gives you hope. Something comes in contact with your stomach, and the agony of it makes you want to scream out. You can feel him lifting you, and the shift of your body makes the bullet move, making you want to scream again. And if you remembered how to, you would have.
You know he’s talking to someone, but it sounds more like buzzing to you. You can only make out certain parts of the conversation, something about needing to leave, something about infections, and something about an aircraft.
You can hear him talking again, and this time it’s directed at you. There’s a strain in his voice, and it sounds like he’s crying. It makes you want to comfort him, but you don’t remember how to.
“Please darling, just open your eyes."
But you’re afraid, youre afraid that if you open them, everything will turn out to be nothing but a dream, and he won’t be here anymore. But even if this is a dream, you need to see him. Even if it will turn into a haunted memory, you need to see his eyes looking back at you. It takes you some effort, but you open your eyes, looking at him. You can see tears flooding his face, you can see his lips moving, silent pleas coming from them for you to stay awake. He’s telling you how good of a job you’re doing, he's telling you to hold on. He promises that he won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again and that he won’t let go of you anymore.
You remember how he cried when you were reaped for the 75th games, and how you had told him everything would be okay, how you had comforted him, but you don't have the energy to comfort him this time. You remember hearing his sobbing, his shaking voice when you close your eyes again, not being able to keep them open any longer, even if you wanted to.
You wake up again, and for a moment you think it had indeed all been a dream, that you were right back where you had started, But then you remember the bullet in your stomach. You look down and see a bandage over it, even though it’s already soaked in blood. They must have taken it out.
You try and concentrate, and you can hear Finnick talking to someone. “Just tell me, I know it’s bad but I need to know.” “Finnick, it won’t make a difference.” The person he’s talking to sounds desperate, and you remember how stubborn he could be when it came to you.
But you don’t remember more, because your head starts to feel light again and you give in to the feeling.
When you wake up again, you manage to open your eyes, and you can see someone sitting in a chair next to the bed you're in. He’s slumped over, his face half pressed into the mattress and half into your stomach, both of his hands are holding onto one of yours. It hurts a little, but you don't mind, because it reminds you, even when you look away, that he is still there. You remember the way he always softly snores, and the way he wiggles his nose when your hair falls over it.
You think you're connected to a monitor, because something is beeping in the same rhythm you can feel your heart beating, and it gives you a headache. So you close your eyes again, and once again, you give in to the feeling of sleep that looms over you.
Since you had been brought to District 13, he has barely left your side. He keeps putting cold washcloths on your forehead to try and break your fever. It won't help, and he knows it, but no one has the heart to stop him.
You haven't shown a single sign of life since they had found you. It was unsettling, the silence that filled the room, none of your usual laughter and banter there to replace it.
It’s only when Finnick's head shoots up that the others notice it as well. The steady beeping that has been imposing the silence in this room for weeks picking up its pace. The beating continues to go faster and faster, your body shaking up from the bed in almost the same rhythm. But right before anyone can do anything about it, it stops. It all seems to stop, you stop moving, and the monitor stops beating.
He starts giving you chest compressions, and someone rushes into the room holding a small bottle, they fill a syringe with the clear liquid and inject it into your arm. Within a few seconds, your heart starts beating again. But it’s only after a minute of the monitor showing him a steady heartrate that he stops his actions.
It’s dark in the room when Finnick wakes up, and if it wasn't for the soft light and the beeping of the monitor, he would've thought he was dreaming, but it seems the reality won’t let him escape. He struggles not to fall back asleep, and every few minutes he does, but every time he wakes up startled again, scared that you’ll be gone if he doesn't open his eyes every once in a while. It was easy to see the toll it had taken on him. His posture was slouched, his face less well-groomed than usual. But no one could blame him, because they could see the way he looked at you, as if you were the sun and your dimmed light turned his world dark.
He knows the chance you can hear him is small, but he feels the urge to talk to you nonetheless.
“I don't think I can hold this in any longer. I remember some studies that have shown people in comas do hear what's going on around them, but maybe it’s for the best that you don’t, because you would never say yes.”
He continues but he feels his voice choke up, and he runs a hand through your hair to calm himself down, his other hand still holding onto yours.
“We talked about it once, I still remember every single word you said. You came at me with all your logical reasons for why it would be a bad idea. But what you never understood is that when it comes to you, I'm not able to think rationally, because my love for you will overpower anything else.” He chuckles softly as he recalls the memory he’s about to tell you next.
“I remember when I opened up to you for the first time. I had always held things to myself, but you were so calm as I talked to you. I thought for sure I had screwed it up somehow then. Everyone always tells me now how happy you make me, and they're right. Ever since you came into my life there has not been a single moment when the thought of you did not bring me joy, even when we fought my memories of you could still somehow bring a smile to my face.
I remember when they showed me the video, they hadn't wanted me to see it, but you know how stubborn I can be when it comes to you. I saw you, I saw the way in which they were hurting you. And I started yelling, ironically enough in that moment, you were the only one that could have calmed me down. I remember yelling at them, fighting with them not to wait any longer, that they couldn't let you wait any longer, they had to have me sedating until they came to a conclusion."
He reaches into the pocket of his trousers, taking a small ring. It was his mother's ring, he had found it a while back and had carried it with him ever since. He had thought of moments to give it to you, but every time there was one, every time he was about to ask you, something had happened, something had interrupted him. But there was no one interrupting him this time. “I have thought about asking you this every time I see you, and I can't hold it in any longer. So when you wake up, not if you wake up, because I know you will. I know you will wake up because you have to. So when you wake up, will you marry me.” A little part of him had thought you'd wake up, that you’d answer him. Even if you said no, it would still be better than what's happening right now, because he didn't care if you'd say no, if you’d say you weren't ready, because nothing could be worse than the silence that followed him. And so he slid the ring onto your finger delicately, as if you were to disappear if he wasn't careful. He put the ring on your hand because he knew that even if it wasn't today, and it wasn't tomorrow, someday you would marry him, and he wouldn't let you slip away.
At first, he thought he was imagining it, sleep deprivation and desperation playing a trick on his mind. But then he saw it again, in the beams of morning light he could see your hand moving, as if it was trying to grasp onto something, trying to pull you back into this world. It woke him up in an instant. But it was all followed so fast, the way your eyes slowly opened, squinting at the light. Before you had even awoken for a second, he moved from where he had been right beside you in order to hug you. And he was about to get lost in the thought of your moving lips, tears falling down his eyes, about to get lost in a kiss full of built-up pain and desperation when he noticed, something was wrong. Your eyebrows were knitted together and the corners of your mouth turned down just a little. He looked at your expression, your body language, something was wrong. You looked vulnerable, you looked like you wanted to protect yourself from someone.
It was only when he looked into your eyes that he truly understood something was very wrong.
Your eyes looked as if you were in pain, but it wasn't a look of any physical pain, it looked as if something was endangering you, but he couldn't understand what it was. He slowly moved so as not to startle you and asked you “Darling, what’s wrong” And at first you didn’t respond, but when he kept looking at you, expecting him to answer you, you started to speak. “Am I supposed to remember you?”
He immediately flinched back at the statement, his shoulder sunk and his eyes dimmed. Someone told him it wasn't uncommon for brain injuries to cause short-term memory loss after a coma.
So slowly, and surely, he made it work. But it was crumbling him down every time you didn't remember the unconscious acts of affection, so foreign to you now. A quick touch on your arm as he walked towards you made you flinch slightly as if his hand had been on fire. The subtle smiles he gave you when entering a room were now met with you looking down. The way that even though you were physically here, you really weren't.
He promised himself, he vowed to himself that he would make you remember. That no matter how long it took, he would wait for you. He would wait for you to remember, make you remember. Because he had very quickly learned that he couldn’t live without you anymore.
Part 2: Trying to Forget
#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x y/n#finnick odair x you#finnick odair angst#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair fic#finnick odair fanfic#angst#fluff#fanfic#fanfiction#fic#finnick#finnick odair#finnick x you#finnick x y/n#finnick fanfic#hunger games finnick#the hunger games finnick#thg finnick#finnick x reader#finnick imagine#finnick odair fanfiction#the hunger games fanfiction#thg series#hunger games fic#the hunger games fluff#the hunger games angst#the hunger games#hunger games
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HATE YOU LOVINGLY | LN4 (pt2)



( you hate him just as he hates you. but maybe it's just his way to show he fell hard for you. )
warning : jealousy, slight angst, fluff
note : i spent my whole evening writing this but it's worth it. also wrote once again more than 5k words i surprised myself because even in french i don't write that much
word count : 5.1k
↳ part 1
!! english is not my first language !!
this season's debut is tough for you. being a new f1 presenter is not as amazing as it looks. of course it's a wonderful job, you couldn't have dreamed better because it's the job you so wanted. you're very passionate about it, but it requires a lot of work and to be honest you're feeling a bit tired since some weeks now.
but the thing that disturbs you and makes you really tense is when you interview lando. actually just lando. of course you still don't like him, but you're sure you don't hate him anymore. you thought you would never say this but you definitely started to appreciate him. because of the post race interviews.
you mostly interview the mclaren drivers. it means that you can share some time with your best friend oscar but it also means you have to face lando. and when it happens it's the most stressful and strained moment. because you can't fully concentrate yourself on the questions.
it's the way he looks at you with this intense gaze, which makes you burn inside of your body. his distracting look always finish to fall on your lips at one point of the interview. it makes you go crazy. he would stare a bit at them before looking you in the eyes like nothing happened.
but to revenge on him you would ask him the most tough questions. about the race, about qualifying. you somehow always manage to prick his weaknesses by asking questions whose answers are almost impossible to find. and he always scoff, he lets a laugh out because he perfectly understands what you always try to do.
and fans notice it. they notice the way you two interact on camera. they'd say both of you look like are going to murder each other with the difficult questions from you and the sassy comments and answers from lando. but if they really analyze the situations, they can caught and feel a link between you. a special link which connects you. they notice lando's wandering eyes on your lips and the way you look at him. and laugh at his jokes.
it seems like you try so hard to show everyone you hate each other but it ends up watching two fools being secretly in love.
but you're still sure lando hates you and he's thinking the same for you.
now the australian grand prix will take place this sunday, and today it is thursday. which means conferences and media duties. the mclaren media team has planned a new sort of video. they want to try different types of content for both the drivers this year. and they organized a video with lando and you as guests. the idea of the video is to make lando choose an outfit for you and you'll try it. it can be a good way to show mclaren's fans your relationship and also lando's style and taste.
"y/n will arrive in a few minutes" stephanie, who oversees media and PR functions for mclaren, informs lando that you'll be here soon. the curly haired just nods and fixes his hoodie's sleeve. his expression is impassive, nobody can't tell what emotion he's feeling right now. however, some of the members are aware of the complex relationship between you and lando so they profoundly hope the video will not be a mess.
you guys just need to cooperate and fake it, fake your emotions only for the video. because it is your jobs.
lando laughs with the makeup artist who is adjusting his makeup. he lifts up his eyes and then he sees you walk in the room. you smile and greet the staff, waving your hand to some acquaintances. and in this moment he daydreams. he stops himself on you. your smile, the way you act with people around you with the kindest words and purest actions. he's mesmerized by you. and he hates it.
you make everything so difficult for him. why do he constantly have this problem ? this need to keep an eye on you, to lay eyes on you at least once a day. to be sure you're present and if you're not then he's always questioning himself, he thinks about you. why he's so attracted by you ? he thinks that he always hated you, that he was sure that this curiosity he had for you at the beginning had turned into hatred. but ultimately maybe he was lying to himself.
he only wanted to protect himself from his lack of self-confidence from trying to approach you without any result, and he decided to bury his true feelings under a shell. he created this false illusion of hatred so as not to hurt his ego, not to remind him that he is completely in love with you. because deep down he always saw you as an inaccessible woman and he always wondered how a guy like him could say a word to a woman like you.
he was too insecure and you seemed to avoid and ignore him, so it hurt him because he wanted to exist in your eyes. and that's why he started to hate you. but this feeling of hatred is simply wrong. it's an excuse to hide his feelings towards you. but he realizes that. he doesn't deny it anymore, he knows how fucking bad he's in love with you.
"lando ? you're still with us ?" your voice rings in lando's ears and he comes back to reality. you're standing next to him, and the staff is ready to start the video. "yeah sorry. i'm ready" he says and gives you a decided look. stephanie checks everything. she adjusts the little details to make everything look perfect. but she frowns when her eyes fall on you. "can you please try to be more relaxed and act like you're actually like each other ?"
she walks quickly over you and put her hands on your shoulders "you need to be closer to him, the framing looks horrible on the camera" she says while moving your position. your feet walk by themselves and you're so close to lando now, your shoulders almost touch together. you have never been so close to him. you can even smell his cologne.
he looks a bit uncomfortable now, he shifts his position and clear his throat. he can also smell your perfume too and he's completely hypnotized by it. and by the closeness of your body. stephanie take a look on the camera and she thumbs up. "perfect !! now we can start the recording. please no noise!" she sits on her chair and gives you the signal.
you inhale deeply. it's going to be funny right ?
"hello everyone !! today we are here with the driver lando norris and we're going to play a little game together" you smile to the camera and then turn around to talk to the driver next to you. he does the same and when your looks meet, his heart starts to beat faster. you continue to speak and explain the game but he doesn't listen, he's stuck on your hand on his shoulder. you have never touch him before, because if you dare brush him you know he'll be so pissed off. and you either don't want to graze his skin.
but it's all for the work, so you have to do it and to obviously fake it.
lando doesn't want to show you and people that he's surprised by the touch and that he actually likes it. so to shield himself he keeps a straight face and glare at your hand before taking a step back. you would be lying if you said he hurts you with this sudden move. but what, you also need to fake your hatred towards him. so you react like nothing happened despite the way your heart pangs.
"so are you ready to choose me an outfit ?" you ask to the driver and he doesn't ever bother to look you in the eyes. "yes, i think i'll do a great job". you try to hold back a roll eyes and you smile while nodding. but stephanie claps and sighs "no it's so bad. i know you two can't barely stand each other but you guys need to grow up and understand that you need to work together. it looks like you're going to fight. please be serious and mature and make an effort to show that you are at least close"
you sigh and nod to agree with her because you know she's right. you can't act like this in front of the camera and millions of people. "we're sorry. we're going to fix this problem and do our best" "who "we"?" lando says and shoot a black look to you. you bite your cheek from the inside and roll your eyes. now you're getting annoyed. "shut your mouth and stop being stupid. do your job." you murmur to him with frowning brows.
"don't talk to me like that. we're not friends and we'll never be" he adds. he says that to look pissed off, but the truth is that he hopes you'll never be friends. because instead he hopes you'll be his girlfriend. "i ask no more" you scoff and you sound genuinely honest and sincere. which twist his heart and feelings. wouldn’t he have said that ? now he starts regretting what he have said. do you really want him to remain your enemy?
he can't argue back because the recording is taking up again. the recording is going pleasantly well and it surprises the staff as much as you two. lando seems to choose with precision and care your outfit. he does his best to match the clothes and he picks up the best items. and it feels like he's doing it not on purpose, but sincerely. it feels like he truly wants to see you well dressed and it kinda disturbs you.
you go change yourself into the outfit. and it's really beautiful. the clothes match perfectly and you can't lie, he did a good job. you found yourself admiring your reflection in the mirror. you're wearing an outfit chosen by your enemy - no wait by the man you secretly love, and you like it a bit too much.
it's time for the outfit reveals. the camera still records and you're hidden behind a curtain. "okay lando are you ready to see the final result ?" you ask a bit excited about it. "yes show me" he only replies. you pull the curtain and lando's eyes immediately land on you. ohh.
wow. he stopped to breathe. he stopped to talk. is it legal to be this pretty? no because you're taking his breath away and it's not good at all. the outfit fits you perfectly, and he's even more proud because he was the one to choose it. but seriously, he sincerely thinks you look gorgeous that he doesn't even realize you were talking to him. "so how do i look ?" you ask with a smile.
he's flustered. he starts to blush so hard and he rapidly looks away. he tries to say something but he stutters so much over his words. you're making him loose all his senses. he doesn't even know how to talk anymore. "y-you look... i mean it looks good". he pulls himself together and names the outfit rather than you because he doesn't want to admit that you are incredibly beautiful.
"yes i agree with you, it definitely looks good" you reply and smile to him. but not a fake smile like you'd usually do. no, it's a sincere smile, the one smile he loves seeing. he blushes even more and he clear his throat. some staff members notice how lando looks destabilized by you and they laugh. he is unmasked. but you see he's starting to get embarrassed and you decide to end the video now.
"you were perfect, thanks for your hard work" stephanie says and the others members thanks you too. the record stops and you rush to go get changed. you don't even glance at lando, you just look like you can't wait to leave the room and the driver. and the curly haired feels a little disappointed. for the first time he really wanted to talk to you and say a few words to you.
he hesitates to follow you. it would be weird if he suddenly come and talk to you when you can't even look at each other properly.
but he doesn't care. he wants to be confident. he rushes to follow you and before you could walk away from him he grabs your wrist. your second touch. it gives him shivers. and you too because he notices how your skin reacted to the sudden touch. wait, do you feel the same as him ?
"what ?" your frown and glare at him. he removes his hand from your wrist and looks away. he wants to speak but his words are running away. why he's like that around you ? "huh... i just wanted to say that you are actually... really pretty in this outfit" he says and blushes so so hard. you stop yourself. are you dreaming ? is this even real ?
is it really lando ? it's not a false lando norris right ? you blink, and he can clearly tell you're surprised. like very surprised. which is stressful because he starts to regret what he have said. he is sure that you will take his compliment badly and that he will be able to go fuck himself. but no. it's not your reaction. "oh... thank you lando. i guess ?" you stutter a bit, you don't even know how to react at this point.
your reaction make him laugh softly and for the first time since you met, a positive interaction took place between you. it's like a dream, it can't be real. you thought you couldn't have a good talk with him. you genuinely thought you and him couldn't make it together. but it seems for once that you are able to do it.
"let me change myself now please" you say because you're too flustered to stay with him right now. it's kinda awkward though. "oh yes sorry" he only replies and walk away without anything else.
now this one was truly surprising. first you managed to work perfectly well together and then he complimented you ? something is off. he couldn't have change in a day no ? it's just so strange. but yet you don't complain. you're happy about your interactions today. because it finally seems that you both can now try to be more friends and to know how each other.
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two months passed since that day. and surprisingly everything was getting better with lando. now you great each other every day, the post race interviews are definitely entertaining and you both enjoy them now. he's making jokes sometimes when he's around you and he's always excited to record new content with you. your relationship really improved these past months.
and lando is still so fucking in love with you. he fell even harder for you since you started to interact more with him. now he only has eyes for you, you're the only girl he thinks about, the only girl he wants so bad. and you feel the same too. your love for lando doubled and the only thing you wish for is to be with him. to be his girlfriend. just as he wants to be your boyfriend.
today you need to attend a gala. most of the drivers will be there and lot of your colleagues and others presenters will be there too. it's an important event so you need to dress well and of course you must attend it. you finish your hairstyle and spray perfume on your neck. you're ready.
you make it to the place and you're welcomed by a huge crowd of people and fans. a lot of them try to reach out the drivers. every drivers and presenters are on the huge red carpet. there are many cameras and journalists too. it is very vibrant, very lively. flash come from everywhere and you try to find faces you know. and then you find your best friend.
you rush to oscar. he spots you too and he walks towards you. "y/n ! you took a long time to come" he says and hugs you. you wrap your arms around him too and pull back after. "sorry, there was traffic" you reply. he looks good. he wears a suit with a tie and it looks perfect on him. because he's not the kind of man to pull out costume. so seeing the boy you grew up with in this outfit is shocking. it makes you wonder if his teammate is wearing the same as him ?
lando finishes his interview. he gives a small smile to the journalist and joins carlos and charles over there. he's scanning the crowd. he's looking around. he recognizes some f1 presenters and he wonders if you are here too. he wants to see you. he wants to talk to you. but the only person he sees is his old teammate daniel walking to the group of drivers.
"hello guys. how you all feeling ?" he asks and shows his best smile. "good. though i'm tired of these infinite interviews" charles jokes but the boys all know there's some kind of honesty about it. "long time not see" daniel says as he pats lando's shoulder. "c'mon man you played games with me this morning" he rolls his eyes but grin. daniel laughs and wink at him.
a gap settles between the two but it is filled by the voices of the ferrari drivers. and then daniel speak again. "she's pretty" he only says. lando frowns and turns his head to look at his friend. "what ?" "the woman there. she's really pretty. i think she's a presenter. i often see her the paddock" daniel says and a silly smile take place on his face. lando follows daniel's gaze and his look falls on the one only girl he hoped his friend wasn't talking about.
you.
you're laughing so hard with his teammate that you almost trip and you have to hang on to oscar to avoid falling. and yes, indeed you are beautiful tonight. not that you aren't every day because he could literally spend the whole day admiring you but this long black dress which perfectly highlights your body has a lot of effect on him. but he knows he's not the only one you have an effect on. his jaw clench. no, his friend can't be interested in you. he does not have the right. lando was here first, he's the one for you not daniel. he needs to do something. he needs to keep daniel away from you.
"hah, there's much better mate... like this one girl over here, she's prettier by far." lando says in a nonchalant tone, and he points to a brunette who is also one of your colleagues. lie. it's a lie but he needs to do it. "really ? i prefer my girl. but i didn't know you had your eye on this brunette. good to know boy" daniel gives a wink to lando.
my girl ? did he really called you my girl ? jealousy fills lando now. daniel can't allow himself to call you like that. he does not have the right. only lando can call you my girl. you're his girl. well not really actually but still in his eyes you're his precious and favorite girl. he needs to try something else. "no that's not what i meant" "don't worry lando i'll try to get her number for you" he adds with an implicit smile.
the situation gets worse. it's not good at all. "no but i know her and i already know you won't like her. her name is y/n. you know she's horrible and she is like super super annoying. plus she has a terrible sense of humor. doesn't match with you." he ramble about you like you are the most mean person on earth. daniel looks confused but his eyes suddenly sparks. "oh it's the one girl you hate right ?" he asks.
lando hates his behavior now but he needs to save his opportunity. "yes that's her. i wish she could stop existing" he jokes but he's genuinely shocked by his own words. he wants to slap himself. how he hates himself for talking about you like that. he doesn't deserve you at all. "you know what i'm gonna talk to her"
and without realizing it, he sees daniel walking to you. lando's heart skipped a beat. no no no. it can't happen. you're his girl. you don't need daniel. jealousy is running in his blood and he swears he have never been this jealous over someone. he doesn't want to see you talk to an other man than him. he doesn't want to see you laugh with his old teammate because he perfectly knows you love his humor. no you can't give your attention to daniel. it is lando first.
"hello y/n !" daniel greets you with his white teeth smile. you stop talking with oscar and mirror his smile. lando rushes over and joins you. now there are three boys surrounding you. "hello daniel. hi lando !" you say and your smile widen when you look at the mclaren driver. his heart melt from your reaction, he notices how your eyes sparks when you look at him. "you look beautiful" daniel says then he adds "but lando thinks this woman over here his prettier than you. i think he might have a crush on her. but don't worry i'm here for you y/n".
lando sees red now. why daniel said that ? it's fucking bullshit, you're the absolutely only woman he has eyes for. he almost yells at his friend but he pulls himself together. he just hopes you won't listen to his bullshit. he's really pissed of now. you feel strange. like your heart painfully pangs. because you think now that lando already has an other girl in his mind. and it hurts. you thought you were somehow different for him. but you guess not. you try to change the topic because you're getting upset and sad. "wait how do you know my name ?" you frown confused and daniel laughs softly. "lando told me about you" he replies.
your gaze shift on lando. he talked about you to daniel ? it must have been positive then. you show your best smile to him and you can't help but giggle a little. but lando looks impassive, he doesn't even smile to you back. no, he's glaring at you. just like before. just like two months ago when he was hating on you. you don't understand. "oh and what did he say about me ?" you ask curiously.
daniel pats his friend's shoulder with a desolate look. of course it is part of the joke. "well he told me you're the most horrible and annoying person to ever exist. oh he actually said he wish you could stop existing but he was joking about that." daniel laughs but you are not. what ? is that true ? "excuse me... he really said that ? did he actually mean it ?" you ask to be sure.
lando knows he's in shit. he fucked up. he wants to say something but daniel cuts him off. "i think so because he literally said he hates you. but i think you already know that don't you ?"
daniel wasn't doing it on purpose at all. he knows that you both hate each other, which is why he allows himself to joke about your relationship. but he doesn't know that you've gotten a lot closer lately. lando didn't tell him about his feelings for you because he didn't want to show that he loves you. he kept pretending to hate you when he was with daniel and now this is what shit he's in.
"i... sorry i thought we got along well? that our relationship was better..." you look at the driver you love. he shows no expression.
so is he really like that? a big asshole to the end. you felt that he had changed, that he was starting to like you but in the end he is still the same idiot as before. he played with your feelings. and your whole being hurts. your heart pang so hard. "well if you believed it then maybe i should become an actor then" he scoffs and look at you up and down.
what is he doing? his behavior is truly shit and pathetic. he is losing the girl of his dreams because of himself. he is destroying the only person important to him. the only woman he wants to chase. he's so fucking bad he can't even take off this hateful role in front of daniel because he doesn't want to show that he fell in love with the girl he was supposed to hate. he's such a terrible asshole.
oscar doesn't understand either. because unlike daniel he knows lando's feelings towards you. he knows that his teammate is madly in love with you. so why this behavior? why is he doing all this? why is he hurting his best friend ? he looks at lando with a confused and angry gaze. "i'm sorry i need to get some water" you're about to cry in pain. you disappear quickly because you don't want to stay another second next to him. you have never felt like this before. you feel shit for believing in him. now he broke you in pieces.
daniel doesn't understand either what is happening. but some journalists are calling him for an interview and he excuses himself, saying he'll be back soon. now there's lando and oscar who remain together. "fuck" the curly haired curses. "fuck fuck fuck. shit. fucking shit. i fucked up everything" he curses more. oscar sigh and runs a hand in his hair. "indeed you did yes". his teammate looks like he's about to burst into tears. he knows he really did you wrong and shitty.
"see what you have lost" oscar says and shrugs. but him too is pissed off, he's mad at lando because this guy literally hurts in the most painful way his best friend. "why did you do that ? why did you mess up everything? i thought you really loved her!!” "because i do !! i do love her, she's my everything. she's the only person i care about. she's the only one i think about and she's making me loose my mind and i don't see my life without her oscar. for fuck sake i'm so in love with her and i know i don't deserve her"
lando goes around in circles. he's getting tired of it. "you really disappointed me you know. but it makes me feel sorry to see you in this state, so even if i don't like it, go chase after her" oscar pushes his teammate in your direction. he doesn't want to see lando desperate like this. he knows you love him and that lando loves you too. he can't stand seeing you two suffer when you're literally fighting for each other.
lando finds you in a hidden spot. you let a sob out of your mouth and it breaks his heart. his whole being even. he sees tears falling down on your cheeks and he curses at himself for being the reason of them. he carefully approaches you but you notice him. you're about to walk away but he grabs your wrist before you could run. "y/n"
"no. go away. i don't want to be near you" you bluntly pull back your hand from his grab. "no please y/n listen to me" he tries once again. you scoff and roll your eyes. he thinks it works like that ? "what ? i don't want to listen to you." you struggle to not yell at him. "i didn't intend to say theses things you have to trust me"
he digs himself in deeper. "oh what, now i need to trust you like i used to trust you when i thought you liked me ? you're shit lando" you start to walk away but he stops you once again. "leave me. i don't want to hear your excuses" you try to release his hand from your arm but he doesn't let you go. "no. listen to me. i don't even know why i acted like that and you don't realize how much i hate myself right now. this is not what i wanted to do. this is not what i want"
new tears fall on your face but you don't care at this point. you don't even have the energy to argue back. you can't stop crying. "so what do you want then ?"
"you" he answers without hesitation.
oh. you didn't expect this answer. his other hand grab gently your arm and he takes advantage of your lack of reaction to pull you into his arms. "now really listen" he starts and wipe a tear from your cheek. "i know i'm a piece of shit that don't deserve you. i don't even deserve to talk to you. i'm really a dick because i hurt you so bad and trust me it truly breaks my heart because i'm the man who broke your heart when i was supposed to take care of it"
"i never hated you. never. i was always attracted to you and i know i fell in love with you since the first time i laid eyes on you. every single day i begged to have a chance to talk to you. but i wasn't confident enough and i preferred to act like i hated you when all i wanted was to beg you to give me just a chance" he feels your body relaxes and he pulls you even closer. you can fell his breath on your neck.
"you're not even a little annoying. you are the complete opposite of horrible, you are the kindest and most caring person i know. i want to slap myself for saying i wish you didn't exist. because it's a fucking lie. i can't live without your existence. i can't imagine my future without you. you're taking my breath away and you never leave my mind and thoughts. i know you're the love of my life and i waited for you this long. and i'll never let you go now that i found you." he finishes in a sob and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.
"lando..." you hum. "shhh don't talk. it'll be alright baby" he murmurs against your ear. he strokes your hair with one hand and your back with the other. he places a soft kiss on your head. "i fell very hard for you baby. i'm so in love with you. i'll never stop loving you i promise" he says and you just nod. "i love you so much too lan" you simply answer.
"and that one brunette girl daniel talked about ?" you ask with watery eyes. he laughs softly and cup your face "oh babe i don't even remember who she is. but don't worry love i only have eyes for you" he says and you simply smile widely. "i hope so".
he smiles too and look at your lips. "now kiss baby" he says in a whisper and leans in to kiss you tenderly. the kiss is so sweet and gentle, his lips moving perfectly against yours. he's delighted and he softly bites your bottom lip. you pull back and peck his nose. "so do you love me or do you hate me ?" you ask as he wipes away your last tears. he smiles bright and think before speaking again. "i think i hate you lovingly".
and his lips meet once again yours in a passionate kiss...
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 fic#lando norris fluff
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Almost My Raven

This is Pt 2 to this fic called Please Don't Prove Me Right. I hope you all enjoy Song: Oh Raven by Unlike Pluto TW: Unrequited love, divorce, depression, sad, angst, some mild comfort
I remember the day clearly when I saw her fall into her own Hell with me. She was a beauty beyond compare, yet I still chose the worst of the two options like a fool. Y/N was bright-eyed and gorgeous, willing to follow me everywhere while also offering comforting advice. Lilith was just attractive and willing to lead me wherever she believed I should go. I knew the day Father cast us down that maybe I made the wrong choice.
It took eons of loving Lilith and living the life we had built for me to realize where things were going. I was Lilith's source of power, and as soon as I wasn’t cooperative, things took a nasty turn for the worse. Our relationship turned sour as we argued over the most mundane and small things. We fought for our child, our kingdom, and over Y/N. Lilith wasn’t an idiot. She knew that my heart from the beginning belonged to another, but I was a fool not to see it either.
When Lilith finally left, it was sudden and painful. I had relied on her so much, but it was the end of something I knew as well that wasn’t so great. Tears and years of pent-up depression caught up to me as I had to grapple with all I had truly lost. Because now it was no longer just losing my old home and family but losing Y/N to someone who didn’t even love me enough to stick through the hard times. Or was I the problem since I never truly loved Lilith?
Y/N, my dear raven; she used to be one of the purest angels, now tainted with those black wings, but who am I kidding? They looked amazing on her, as everything did. The scars around her wrists and neck were faded and sad reminders of how I had failed her. I wished to fix things with her and become friends again. She was my thoughts all through those seven years till I saw her again.
From the moment I saw her through that portal Adam opened, I knew she was still the one I was meant to be with. I felt the pull to connect with her again, racing to the portal. As I reached out to touch her, I was burned, reminding me that I was chained to Hell and Hell alone. A new wave of sadness overtook me as I watched the portal close, and she faded away.
I knew then I needed to do whatever I could to open Purgatory to, at the minimum, Hell. I would apologize and beg for forgiveness if she has any forgiveness to give. I hoped she would hear my heart again, like when we were kids. With my new resolve, I took to my study, spending hours working on ways to open up the division. As the days turned to weeks, I looked at the hollow ring on my finger. Slipping it off, I revealed to myself that Y/N was the one for me and I would do anything to prove it.
Once I had a decent idea of how to counteract my father's division against Y/N and me, things took an unexpected turn. I knew I needed to tell Charlie who she was to me. I couldn’t hide that forever, especially if Lilith returned and I denounced her. However, nothing scared me more than telling my child how I never loved her mother truly and another angel she saw fight against her dreams, the one I truly loved.
Taking a deep breath, I walked to Charlie's office in the hotel and gently knocked on the cold wooden door. “Char, may I come in?”
“Sure, Dad, the doors open!” She was so happy, and it made this conversation so much harder to have. Taking the brass door handle in hand, the cold touch was almost jarring where my ring once sat. Stepping inside, I made my way to her desk and sat on the edge, a deep sigh leaving me as I contemplated how to let Charlie know about Y/N.
“Char, I have something important I want to talk about,” I looked at her, noticing the worry in her eyes. I hoped she wouldn’t hate me for what I was about to do and say. “Charlie, I do not love Lilth anymore. I am sorry… I believe that I never truly loved her from the beginning. In reality, there was another angel you have met before… the angel of Purgatory.” I swallowed and looked at her reaction.
She was a bit taken aback, but she looked interested in what I had to say. Taking that as a safe cue to continue, I did just that: “Y/N is a good person. She was just dragged down with me for being my friend. I told her about my plans with your mother, and she was punished with us. However, do not blame Y/N for how souls are judged. She is just doing what she was forced to do…”
The laugh that Charlie gave me was unexpected, but the small sad smile was heartbreaking. “Dad, I figured you didn’t love mom anymore. It is odd to hear you never truly did when all I saw for a while was that love, but I understand. I remember seeing how Y/N looked at me and figured something must have once been there. I hope that things can be mended if you ever get the chance, Dad. I will be right by you.”
I teared up, standing and walking over to my daughter, holding her. Hearing her blessing was enough to make my world complete. Tears streaming from my eyes, I held her close and nodded happily that she was on my side for once. I pulled away, sighed, and looked at her paperwork as I calmed down. “Oh, a representative from Heaven is coming to discuss redemption with you? We are sure it’s not another surprise attack from one of Adam’s angels?”
Charlie smiled, shook her head, showed Sera’s signature, and then sighed, sitting back down. “Yeah, I am sure it is a normal visit. I was actually hoping you would accompany me this time. I normally would take Vaggie, but I think it’s time you put your dreams into action, too, Dad.”
I smiled softly, patting Charlie's head. She was right; I needed to face my fears of the past and atone for what I had done. Smiling wide, I agreed to help her in her battle for redemption. Something I never thought would come from Hell, but I was proud to stand beside my child.
As the day approached to speak to the angels, an uneasy feeling spread in my chest. It felt like I was about to be judged all over again. Sighing, I dressed at my best as I met Charlie in front of the Angelic building in Hell. We looked over the doors and nodded to one another as we entered, looking over the pastel-colored walls. I used to hate this place, yet with Charlie beside me and my resolve to strike a deal to free Y/N, it wasn’t so scary anymore.
As we took our seats, an angelic glow and a black mist formed in the room. There before us stood Sera and Y/N. My heart stopped looking at her. She looked so cold and empty. I bet years of loneliness would do that to you. She looked broken. It took all I could not to rush over and hold her to ask her what had happened and what I could do to help. However, the way she looked at me sent a shiver down my spine.
“It is a pleasure to see you both here. I have invited Y/N to help discuss how the further redemption process will go. I am unfortunate enough to inform you two that one of your sinners actually now resides as a winner…” I was aghast listening to Sera speak. My eyes widened as they looked between her and Y/N. All I saw was the distant look in those once vibrant eyes as I heard Charlie's excited squeals speaking to Sera.
This wasn’t the Y/N I used to know. She was so full of life and eager to spend time with me. What happened? Looking back at Sera, I cleared my throat. “Oh, so then we will move along with the redemption plan…” I drifted off in thought, coming up with ideas on how I would rescue Y/N from that Hell she was trapped in.
“Yes, we will; that is why Y/N is here. She will be the ambassador for redemption program. She will live in your hotel and monitor the souls for when they will be ready to be sent to us.” As the words left Sera’s mouth, I was stunned. I smiled wide and looked at Y/N, hoping to see her excited as well; however, she looked just as indifferent as before.
“It will be a pleasure to work with you both.” She was so soft-spoken now and bowed deeply like she was below us, even though she was now a high-ranking angel. I swallowed hard and watched as she lifted to speak again. “I will be staying with you for the foreseeable future as you proceed to help redeem more souls. I will accompany you through this journey.”
I sighed softly and looked at Charlie, who was already rambling about how exciting it all was and how excited she was to finally help her people. I looked back to Y/N, catching her eyes, and when she looked away, I felt a pain in my chest. I knew at one point she loved me how I love her; however, as the meeting progressed, I realized I may have missed my chance with her.
When we all returned to the hotel, Y/N began enacting all the regulations that Sera and Charlie agreed to. As she was working, I followed behind, hoping to find the words to say to her. The words never came until she turned to look at me and speak herself.
“Lucifer, I want you to know I understand where your heart lies and who you chose, but please, let’s let the past stay in the past,” She looked like she was choking back tears, and I wanted to wipe them away and hold her close. “However, let us please let work stay work, and we can just pretend what was once between us no longer exists.”
I was taken aback by her admission and shook my head. I was looking for my words when she turned away to go back to her job. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed her arm and spun her around to face me again. Looking at her in the eyes, I moved in slowly, allowing her time to move away. As my lips brushed hers, I closed my eyes and sealed my love for her with a kiss.
When we pulled away, she was shocked and looked concerned. All I could offer her was my hand where my ring once sat. I finally knew what to say as she looked at the barren skin. “You are as beautiful as a Raven, my dear; please never sing such a sad song to me again. I love you and you alone. I know it will take time, but please let me love you and show you what I should have from the beginning.”
I knew it would take a lot of time to rekindle what was once lost. All I could hope was that Y/N would be willing to give me that time. And time she did give me.

Tagged
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#dilfdater420 : INSECURITY SERIES | Smile--as requested by the Cecil Stedman loving community, this is the first post of an ongoing series of headcanons/oneshot posts about different readers struggling with different insecurities. This first addition is about a reader that doesn't like their smile.
TAGS: no beta we die like rex splode. maybe a little ooc I'm not confident. gn reader (they/them pronouns). "___" is used in place of y/n. no established relationship. you're cecil's left hand man after donald. coworkers to lovers. contains both headcanon and oneshot.
"...And that's your entire schedule for the week." You recounted, sitting across from him, clipboard in hand.
It was Monday, every week started with this same routine. At 7:30 AM, you go through the general plan for the week--"general" meaning "hardly ever staying on schedule". With heroes being less than cooperative after the guardians died, and Earth's subjugation on the mind, weeks became unkempt. You didn't even know why you still did this anymore; it was a waste of both your time.
Cecil scoffed, "I wonder how well we'll stay on schedule." He seemed to resist the urge to roll his eyes, locking his fingers together as he leaned back in his chair. "Just out of curiosity, is this schedule accounting for any possible variables?"
"Well, that depends," you began, "variables meaning the villains on this Earth? Or in space, i.e. Viltrum? Invincible? The New Guardians of the Globe?"
You piqued his interest. "There's a difference?"
"Significantly."
He raised a brow, you elaborated, "If we're just counting Invincible, we account for any possible betrayal, which creates a new schedule based around defense and negotiations. "Or there's Viltrum, where if they did engage us, depending on the scale, the schedule would be centered around defense like with the Invincible schedule, and or debating discussions about how to engage during a full-scale invasion."
Cecil was a little taken aback. "And here I thought you were fucking with me, you're serious about this." He chuckled.
Now it was your turn to be taken aback. "It's my job sir." You murmured, stuttering a little.
He had never spoken so candidly before, at least not to you directly. That language was always reserved for Donald or worse when he was pissed off in the communications room. It felt intimate, but you didn't understand what coworker achievement you took to get there.
There was a silence in the room as you thought, the air getting increasingly thick. It was almost childish how awkward this all felt.
"If I may speak frankly sir," your grip tightened around your clipboard, "why do you continue to have these Monday discussions with me?"
He was beginning to answer--"I mean-it seems so unnecessary. You know that most of the schedule will not be followed yet you still request every week that I have a schedule ready for the next."
He exhaled through his nose, you sunk into your chair, feeling a nervousness on your back. "You bring up a good point," he affirmed.
"I grew up simple," there's that personality again, "this job is complex. It's nice to start my week feeling like I'm anything close to that simplicity."
Your eyes widened, looking away from his gaze as he peered into your eyes. "I see," you spoke observationally.
"Plus, I like seeing you first thing in the morning."
What?
He sighed, noticing your blush. "Not in any way that would break a labor law, just in a "I enjoy speaking with someone that understands" in the morning."
"But you didn't say "speaking" sir, you said "seeing"." You spoke your thought out loud.
It was Cecil's turn to blush, smiling a little. "Sorry, must've misspoke."
You awkwardly smiled with him--"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Cover your mouth when you smile," he gestured your action. "You always do it without fail, in fact, I don't think I've ever seen your smile before."
"Why are you keeping tally on my smile sir?" You wanted to giggle.
His blush deepened, putting his fingers to his temples. "My question still remains, ___."
You looked down in thought. "I don't know, it's a habit?" You never really liked the way your smile looked. It looked like it didn't fit your face, but how could that be true? Every smile someone is born with fits their face, and if it didn't fit your face, your face was... wrong? You were wrong?
I mean what is this, therapy?
He hummed in response. "Not to sound misogynistic or whatever, but I think you should show your smile. I've seen it on your employee file, it's nice."
Was the room always this hot? He gave you a compliment??
"Thank you, sir, I'll keep that in mind going forward." You rapid fired, standing up. "If you do excuse me, we have gone overtime for our discussion so I will leave you to get to the other areas of objective for today!"
You left before he could say anything.
Cecil looked down at the folder containing the schedule you give him each week. He grabbed his pen, and as if on some sort of autopilot, he began writing down a new objective that was just for himself: get ___ to smile more often.
He didn't understand why, he just knew he'd like to see more.
--
You and Cecil's relationship is bordering on unprofessional while simultaneously formal. He doesn't even call you by your first name but rather defaults to your last, even sprinkling in a Mx. sometimes.
Cecil doesn't know what to make of himself, and why he's very enamored with seeing you happy. He assumed projection, that's what it is! He doesn't smile, so he enjoys seeing it in other people! Easy, problem solved! Eureka!
There's a bit of cognitive dissonance when he realizes he doesn't care if anyone else is happy or sad. Maybe Donald but he's always somewhat positive anyways.
Something about your usually clean cut, professional, work-appropriate face molding into a smile, softening your eyes, captivated him. When he speaks to you, he almost goats on a positive reaction from you just in the off chance your hand won't cover his prize.
Maybe it's the chase of the thing? He wants to know all, so that includes your smile, right? Your employee ID was only a taste, a tease, something he must see with his own eyes!
He's not proud of his affinity. It makes him feel like a kid, a bad one at that. No not safe for work relations, that was something he particularly upheld. All the years that he's fired people for fornicating while on the premises, using valuable time to help the Earth in search of personal pleasures. Now look at him, a fucking hypocrite, he hates hypocrisy.
Surely this will pass, right? Surely this isn't him developing the workplace forbidden l-word for you...
He needs to avoid you. He keeps interactions to a minimum, pushing down his wants and needs. Keeping your time together to the weekly schedule review, it's only an hour and thirty minutes of time! Surely he can't fuck up an hour and thirty minutes packed with the intricacies of a well-crafted schedule.
Well, let's just say, he eventually shortened it to an hour.
a/n: Cecil crushing on the reader through the lens of their smile?
I hope this wasn't too ooc, I don't mean to misrepresent Cecil or you. I've kind of accidentally done an all nighter whilst writing. It's 6 AM for me right now as I type this lol. All that to say, I'm not with sound, sleep filled mind at the moment.
Feel free to suggest any insecurities you'd like me to cover or if you'd like to see a hero reader version of this! This is one of the many that came into my mind.
Check my masterlist here to check out my other Cecil x Reader content.
Thank you so much <3
#invincible#cecil stedman#gn reader#cecil stedman x reader#cecil stedman x you#cecil stedman x y/n#cecil x reader#cecil x you#cecil x y/n#cecil stedman is hot#cecil stedman headcanons#im ceciling it#cecil invincible#x gn reader#maybe ooc#insecurity#insecurity series#dilfdater420
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Bonded: Part 3
Surrender
A/N: I was able to write something! Here is a continuation of the vampire!reader series I started on Halloween 2023. Part 2 was the last day of my Kinktober challenge and this is Part 3.
If you need to catch up, here are the links:
Part 1
Part 2
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, there's the usual sex and smut, but also death and blood drinking
Word count: ~2.7k
"It's easy. You kill him."
“Kill him?!” You shriek and Mary smirks at you.
“You'll bring him back, of course. You have to turn him.” You look down at Elvis and he kisses your knuckles submissively. You're tempted to let him stay like this: all sweet and in love with you. But it won't work with who he is.
“I can't turn him. How do I make him a normal human again?” You look at Mary pleadingly and she scoffs.
“Not possible. Our actions have consequences, young one. You started a process that can only be finished.” She turns and walks from the foyer into the kitchen. “Follow me.”
You pull Elvis to his feet and he wraps his arms around you.
“If I'm a vampire, will you let me stay with you?” His eyes are so round and full of affection that it almost breaks your heart.
“Honey, if I make you a vampire, I'm not sure you'll want to.” He caresses your cheek gently and without thinking, you lean into his touch.
“Come on!” Mary calls from the other room, breaking you both out of the trance you seem to be in. You make your way into the kitchen with Elvis close behind you. “He needs to lay on the table.”
“How exactly does this work?” You ask as Elvis climbs onto the table cooperatively.
“You will completely drain him. Your venom will begin the process of turning him and when he wakes, he will feed from you first. That will complete the transformation and end the blood bond.” Mary speaks matter-of-factly, but for you and Elvis, this is a decision that impacts the very core of who you are. You look down at him laying on the table.
“I'm sorry, Elvis.” He smiles up at you, doe-eyed.
“Don't be. I've loved loving you.” You swallow the lump in your throat and turn to Mary, determined to do this right. You nod and let your fangs descend. He won't taste as good without an orgasm, but that's not your concern right now. He cocks his head a little to give you access to the place you've bitten twice at this point. You lean in and run your tongue over the spot. Then, you sink your teeth into him and begin to drink.
You were wrong. He tastes just as sweet as he did after sex. Something about him is absolutely intoxicating, but you can't let it go to your head. You need to focus.
Fifteen minutes later, you pull back and breathe, looking down at his ashen face. You're so full, but you have to keep going. He's almost there and he nods to you gently before his eyes close and he passes out. You try not to cry as you lean back down and keep drinking.
Finally, no more comes as you suck the spot on his neck. You look down and notice that he isn't breathing anymore and start to panic.
“Mary! He's not breathing!”
“Of course he's not. He's dead.” She answers you nonchalantly as she fiddles with something in the kitchen.
“Mary! Did I do it right? Oh God…” You start to think she's been lying to you and shake Elvis's shoulders as the tears stream down your cheeks But of course he doesn't rouse. You bury your face in his chest and cry. “Elvis! Please!”
It takes you a second to realize what's happening when you feel his hand on the back of your head. As soon as you do, you sit up and look at him. His blue eyes are sharp and clear and if it's possible he's gotten even more attractive.
“I'm okay, honey. But-” He opens his mouth and his fangs are prominent. “Starving.”
You nod frantically and crawl into his lap, straddling him as he sits up, his hand on your neck as he runs his tongue over a spot.
“Okay, you're going to want to bite savagely and cruelly, but don't. Make yourself be gentle.” You whisper. He nods and growls against your neck. You feel him drag the tips of his fangs against your skin and shiver. It shouldn't be sexy, but it is. His other hand holds your hip, pulling you in against his body.
“Male vampires can be quite dangerous. There's a reason we ended them. You need to keep him under control.” Mary speaks and you notice a nervous edge as she watches the scene in front of her. It's true that no one has seen a male vampire in decades. She's not sure what will become of Elvis.
“You can't control me.” Elvis whispers darkly into your neck and you start to think this was a huge mistake. Without any further warning, he sinks his teeth into your neck and starts to suck the blood out of you.
As soon as the blood hits his lips, he's addicted to the way it tastes. He drinks from you eagerly and intensely and you feel yourself start to get lightheaded.
“Elvis…” You whimper. “Stop…”
Mary notices how pale and weak you are becoming and tries to pull him off of you. He easily pushes her to the side and grabs you with both arms, burying his lips in your neck as he sucks on you. He's lost in a haze of blood lust and actual lust and if it wasn't for Mary, he'd lay you down and take you right there in the kitchen. It's only when he feels your hands in his hair that he stops for a bit and pulls back to look at you. You blink slowly, trying to focus on his face with the blue eyes and soft lips, as blood drips down his chin.
“Elvis…” You plead as a tear slides down the side of your face, your head flopping as he holds you.
“Oh God, baby. I'm sorry. Baby?” He shakes you and tries to revive you.
“Hmm?” You answer, loopy from blood loss. He licks the spot where the puncture wounds were and they begin to heal quickly. He starts to panic a little that he's drained you too much. Without thinking, he offers you his arm. You lean forward with your fangs extended and before Mary can stop you, you bite him and begin to suckle.
“No! No! Don't do that!” Mary frantically pulls you off of his arm and you groan. He tastes so good and you need more. “Stop! You'll end up bonded again and this time it won't be breakable no matter what you do.”
You dive back into his arm and he pulls you in close to him and Mary starts to panic. She rips you apart and slaps you across the face, hard. Elvis hisses at her and pushes her backwards, holding you protectively. Without another thought, he pulls your lips to his and all of a sudden you're both a tangle of tongues and blood and fangs and combined moans as you kiss deeply. He holds your body as you roll against him and it looks like there's going to be no stopping the two of you when Mary grabs a pitcher of water and throws it on you both.
Finally, this wakes you both up as you cough and splutter and look around confused. Mary sighs deeply and falls backwards into a chair.
“What happened to us?” You look at Elvis and then at Mary.
“You almost soul-bonded.”
“We what?” Elvis asks, his eyes wide. Mary gives him an exasperated look.
“Soul-bonded! You almost bound yourselves to each other for eternity!” You crawl off of Elvis sheepishly and stand up and he tries to adjust so that his erection is less noticeable. He looks at you with his eyes wide and round, but the look of pure devotion is gone. Some part of you misses it.
“Now begins his existence as a vampire. You will have to teach him. Can you do that?” You look at Mary as she speaks and nod slowly. “Do not feed from him again.”
“I won't.”
******
You spend the next few nights teaching Elvis everything he needs to know about being a vampire. He learns to feed, to compel, and to clean up his messes before a girl wakes up. Overall, he's a good student, eager to learn and do what he's told, but sometimes you have a hard time pulling him off before he drains a girl completely. You really can't control him.
It scares you to send him off alone, but he has to go back to Germany. You keep in touch and he seems to be doing well, but your chest aches with missing him. He took a part of you when you turned him and now it feels like there's a hole in your heart. He sees you one last time before he leaves for home in 1960.
“Thank you for doing what I asked.” He speaks sullenly, like he's not exactly grateful.
“Elvis, I tried to warn you. This life isn't easy.” You look up at him and he cups your cheek gently.
“It's okay. I asked for it. It's my burden to bear.” The way he talks makes you want to cry. He didn't deserve this. You look down at your shoes to try to hide the tears.
“I'm so sorry.” He tips your chin up so that you're looking into his face.
“Hey. I asked for this. I'll be okay. You just… take care of yourself, alright?” You nod and desperately wish he wasn't leaving. It's stupid and impractical but you're not ready to be without him completely. Something about what you went through together has you wanting to cling to him like your non-life depends on it. He kisses your lips softly one last time and then turns and walks out the door.
But you don't even have time to cry before he's back through the door, his arms around you and his mouth pressed to yours.
“I can't leave.” He murmurs as he kisses down your neck, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear.
“You have to go.” You whimper and pull his hips into yours desperately.
“After.” He whispers, scooping you up bridal style and carrying you through your apartment to the bedroom.
When he gets there, he lays you down surprisingly gently and kicks his boots off. You spread your legs as he crawls on top of you, kissing the supple skin of your breasts. He opens your robe to reveal your bra and panties and moans softly when he sees you.
“You're still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.” He leans down and kisses the valley between your breasts. Your back arches without your control as he continues to press kisses down your stomach to your thighs. A whimper escapes your lips when you feel his fangs graze against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Can I?”
“Fuck. Yes, please.” You try to remember what Mary’s warning was, but at this moment you don't really care. He smiles against your skin and licks a spot just inches from your center.
“Good girl.” He murmurs against you and then sinks his fangs into your thigh. You gasp and moan loudly as he begins to suckle from your leg. “Tastes so good, baby.”
You almost cum just from the sensation of him drinking from you, but he pushes you over the edge when he slips first one and then two fingers up inside you as he sucks. He barely gets his thumb on your clit before you shudder and pulse around his fingers, your orgasm ripping through you like a tsunami. After a few seconds, he licks the puncture wounds and then moves to your clit. You can still feel his fangs as he begins to lick over and around you fervently.
“I already came…” You whisper, your clit swollen and sensitive.
“I know. I want you to do it again.” The vibration of his voice against you makes you want to scream. Instead, you writhe and whimper as he drags his tongue over and around your sensitive bud. The pleasure is overwhelming and you feel another climax gather in your center.
“Oh God, Elvis!” You moan loudly and run your hand in the front of his hair. He groans and keeps licking you like he has nothing left to lose. “Ah! Ah! Ahhhhh!”
Your whole body relaxes as your release rushes through you and you cum hard in his mouth. He carries you through it with his tongue and then kisses your clit softly. As he moves back up your body, your hands begin to tear at his clothing and it doesn't take long for you both to be naked, pressing your sweat and skin against the other. You roll him onto his back and settle with a knee on either side of his hips. He reaches up and holds your face in his hand. There aren't any words, but both of you know what's being said. When you sink down onto his cock, his eyes roll back and he grunts loudly.
“Fuck, baby.” He whispers through gritted teeth as you start to roll your hips against him, pushing him deeper and deeper inside you. Your head drops back and you feel his hands on your breasts as you fuck him, slowly at first but picking up speed with each thrust. Before too long, you're bouncing as hard as you can, slamming yourself down on top of him as he guides your hips with his hands. Eventually, you lean over and kiss his neck and he wraps both arms around you, fucking into you from underneath. You graze your fangs over his skin and he stops.
“No. Mary said not to feed from me or we'll end up bonded again.” You pull back and sit up.
“Oh.” You whisper breathlessly.
“Not that I don’t- I mean-”
“No, it's okay.” Your eyes search his for a bit before you lean over again to hide the tears that have gathered in yours. He curses under his breath and looks up at the ceiling. Is it so terrible if you're bonded?
Without warning, and without pulling out, he rolls over on top of you and slowly rolls his hips forward to meet yours.
“You'll always have a part of me.” He whispers as he fucks into you. “Please believe that.”
You nod and hold onto his shoulders, still trying not to cry.
“I have to cum baby.” You nod, unable to speak. He's kicking himself for not letting you feed from him, but it's too late. His hips stutter into you and he grunts, filling you with his release. When he finishes, he pulls back and looks into your eyes, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “I won't ever forget you.”
You bite your bottom lip to keep the words from tumbling out of your mouth. I love you.
What you don't know, what you'll never know, is he's doing the exact same thing. He lays on your chest for a bit as you stroke his hair before he drags himself away and gets dressed.
In what feels like a few seconds, he's back at your front door, desperately searching for a reason to stay. But you've held back the words, knowing he has to go. He kisses your forehead and your lips one last time.
“I have to go.”
“I know.”
“I'm sorry. I-” Your eyes flick up to his quickly. “I'll miss you. Goodbye, baby.”
You nod and he walks through the door. This time he doesn't come back.
You watch on TV the next day as he waves and smiles and leaves Europe for good. You give yourself three days to mourn, but you're never quite the same after Elvis.
And he's definitely not the same after you.
******
December 1970
“I know I'm asking for a miracle here, but I need you to find her.”
“Boss, why do you need a dancer from the Moulin Rouge?” Elvis runs his hand through his hair and scowls. Most of his bodyguards know what he is, but he still can't admit to why he needs to see you.
“I just do. Now, can you do this, or do I need to ask someone else?” Elvis fiddles with the rings on his left hand nervously.
“I'll make it happen. We'll find her.” Sonny turns and walks from the room, leaving Elvis alone in the TV room at Graceland.
He prays desperately that they'll find you. You're his only hope.
******
To be continued...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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