#of weight just living and having fun its insane

[monkaesque]

Becoming a stoner made me so mentally healthy im uninstalling genshin impact

[vanibear]

we have now reached the stage of family vacation where i have a meltdown

[wholoveseggs]

Hey girl, I love you and your stories <3

Can I maybe request an enemies to lovers with a female reader and Elijah, which leads to a threesome between her Elijah and Klaus. Maybe with a little punishment and very kinky maybe with a little light bondage and just light beds in general, I'll leave the details up to you

thank you already <333

Captive

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x Klaus Mikaelson x Vampire!Reader} You are being held captive by a group of nasty witches, being tortured, starved of blood and interrogated night and day... You've lost all hope, until two old enemies show up to save you, and you spend the evening reminiscing and making up for lost time.

♡♡ Thank you lovely anon! Its been so long since I did a ménage à trois with the boys & it's always so much fun to write! ♡♡

7.1k words {hehe} - Warnings: smut, lots of drinking, Klaus being a little shit, oral sex {m! and f! receiving}, a little bondage, praise kink, a little punishment, slight dom!Elijah and Klaus, blood sharing, rough sex, double penetration, overstimulation && aftercare ...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05

In the dark, dingy cell; there was no way to tell the passage of time. Not that you were in any condition to care about that.

It had been so long, you had forgotten the feeling of sunlight kissing you skin, the smell of flowers in the wind, the sound of birds chirping in the morning, the taste of rich red wine, the laughter of friends. The last few days- weeks? months?- were spent in a haze. Time had become a distant concept.

All you knew now was cold, stale, dirty water, and the constant pain of hunger, and the agony of torture.

At first you blamed your captors, with their unrelenting desire to grab at power. Then you blamed your stupidity, your lack of caution. But most of all you blamed the Mikaelsons, for they were who the witches had targeted. They were the ones you were being tortured for.

If only you had not made such enemies, if only you hadn't gotten involved, you could have lived your immortal life without consequence, without guilt. You would have avoided all the pain, all the torture. Indulging in men of that caliber always came with a price, you just didn't expect it to happen to you.

In a way, it was a mercy that your body had long since given out. That you had become too weak, too hungry, to do much more than lay against the dirty floor, staring blankly ahead. Soon your limbs would stop working, only dust left in your veins. You would desiccate and die a slow, painful death, the only relief would be your own insanity.

It was there, in that dark place, where you accepted your fate. The witch's spells kept you trapped, you were too weak to even crawl out the door, and there was no one who knew where you were, no one who would come for you.

That is, until you felt the cold chill of the witch's magic suddenly disappear, like a weight lifted from your shoulders. Then the sound of fighting outside, the screams of the witches and their death rattles, and the door creaking open. And a cold laugh you never thought you would hear again.

"Isn't this a sight?" Klaus said, crouching down outside of the cell, leaning close to the ground to meet your eyes, "I never thought I'd see you in such a state, little fox."

His tone was light, almost mocking, and his grin was as cold as ever. You blinked a few times, hoping you were imagining things, that the delirium had finally set in. You had experienced plenty of hallucinations since the witch's had captured you.

But he didn't disappear. He stayed, watching you, like a snake waiting to strike.

"She looks awful," He mused, looking you over.

"And she smell even worse," another voice chimed in, his soft lilting accent completely unfamiliar, and yet somehow familiar at the same time.

"You've let yourself go, sweetheart," Klaus teased.

"Are you going to sit and gawk, or are you going to rescue the poor girl," The second man said, his voice growing closer as he joined Klaus.

It was Elijah, his way with words unmistakable, even in the attempt at an American accent he spoke with now.

"I was actually thinking about killing her, would it be easier?" Klaus replied, his grin widening, "What do you think brother, is she a lost cause?"

Elijah peered through the bars, his dark eyes taking you in. You wanted to hide, or scream, or cry. His face bringing back a thousand buried memories, all the reasons why you had tried so hard to forget him.

"I'd say she's quite beyond salvation," he said, "but you know I could never resist a damsel in distress, even one as ugly as this."

That hurt, even though you certainly deserved it. Many great fables are written about the tragic love affairs of humans, but nothing compared to the heartbreaks between vampires.

Klaus laughed at the pain in your eyes, the way they watered ever so slightly, despite how weak and dehydrated you were. But he reached out and grabbed the iron gate, tearing it off the hinges with a grunt.

"I think we're past pleasantries, don't you agree, love?" He asked, striding into the cell and lifting you up.

The moment his hands touched your skin, you knew it was real. That by some divine miracle you were rescued and it was by the worst possible people.

"You should really take a bath, it's unbecoming for a lady to smell like a sewer." Elijah commented, watching the way you were limp in Klaus' arms.

You choked out a half laugh, half sob, every small movement felt like sandpaper rubbing against your skin. You swallowed hard and it felt like a knife had been forced down your throat.

"Fuck you," you wheezed.

"There she is!" Klaus said, holding you bridal style, "We were wondering if you had actually died."

Elijah reached out and placed a hand on your head, smoothing out your hair and giving you a gentle smile. You leaned into the touch, the first kindness you had felt in so long.

Klaus carried you out of the cell, and into the room above. He sat down in an old wooden chair, the same one you had been tortured in countless times. Your breathing hitched and you tried to struggle, but he held you tight, pressing his face into your neck.

"Relax," he said, "I'm not going to kill you … yet."

The threat hung in the air, and Elijah rolled his eyes at his brothers' dramatics. You felt the tip of his tongue lick up your neck, and his fangs graze your skin, before pulling away.

"Any of them still kickin'?" He asked Elijah, who was peering around the room.

"One, she's alive. Barely," he replied, his gaze falling on a witch laying face down on the floor, her neck was at a weird angle, no doubt snapped by Elijah.

He dragged her to the middle of the room, her body limp, but you could hear the faint beating of her heart, her blood still pumping. She was still clinging to the last threads of existence. Her blood smelled divine, the sound of her heartbeat was music to your ears.

"Here's a deal," Klaus said, pulling your attention back to him, "I give you her blood, and you answer our questions. Sound fair?"

Your lips were chapped and your throat was dry, but you forced out an answer, "Yes, please."

You hadn't begged for anything the entire time the witches had imprisoned you. Not for freedom, not for mercy, not for blood, not even for your own life. But in that moment, all of your pride had been stripped away, and there was nothing left but desperation.

Elijah lifted the witch up, biting down on her wrist and offering it to you. The taste of fresh blood filled your mouth, and you moaned, gulping down as much as you could. But the relief didn't last long, as he pulled away.

"Enough," he said, his grip tight, "can't have you drinking too much."

You felt life returning to your limbs, your bones tingling as you were able to wiggle them, your skin turning from a gray pallor to its usual color. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough to take the edge off.

"Now, let's start with the obvious," Elijah said, "Why are you here?"

"On vacation," you replied sarcastically, your voice hoarse, but not as quiet as before.

Elijah didn't say anything, instead he gave you a cold stare, daring you to make another joke. You shrunk away, but not much. It had been so long since you had been with them, but the way they made you feel, was ingrained into your bones.

"The witches, what do they want from you? I will not ask you again," He asked, the anger behind his words making you nervous.

"They wanted you two," you said, "they knew we had...history."

"History?" Klaus said, chuckling, "that's a very bland word for what we had."

You bit your tongue. He wasn't wrong, but you weren't willing to admit that to them.

"They thought I could get to you, so they tortured me," you explained.

"And could you? Get to us?" Elijah asked, his eyes narrowed.

You didn't respond, instead you looked down. The truth was, you had been avoiding them for centuries and to do that, you always kept tabs on them. So yes, if you wanted to, you could have gotten to them, but that would have meant reopening old wounds, and the last thing you wanted was to feel that pain all over again.

"We could always compel the answer out of you," Elijah mused.

You shook your head. It wasn't that they couldn't, but that they didn't need to. You were already at their mercy, and had no desire to fight them.

"I... I kept your secrets, no matter how much they tortured me," You said, "I never told them anything."

"How noble," Klaus replied, rolling his eyes, "your loyalty is truly inspiring, sweetheart."

His grip tightened on your body, his fingers digging into your skin. It was starting to make you angry. Yes, they had saved you, but the way they spoke to you, the way they were acting, it was too much.

"Fuck off," you snapped, "I could have given them anything, and yet, here I am, starving and tortured. So maybe a little respect would be nice, you prick."

Elijah let out a short, sharp laugh, while Klaus glared at you. But after a moment he grinned and chuckled, the sound sending a shiver up your spine.

"You were always so bold," Klaus said, "you never were afraid of me."

"She's a fool then," Elijah replied.

"Well, what is life without a few fools, brother?" Klaus asked.

"Boring," you replied, earning a smirk from both of them.

Elijah leaned down, grabbing the witch by the hair and placing her head on your lap. She was so close to dying, you could hear her heartbeat getting weaker and weaker. You looked down at her, the smell of her blood filling the air, and licked your lips.

"Drink up now, you've earned it," he said, stroking the back of her head.

You sank your teeth into her neck, the taste of her blood filling your mouth, as you greedily sucked up as much as you could. Nothing tasted better than draining the life out of a witch.

When you finished, you tossed the body aside, licking your lips and wiping your mouth. You were finally able to relax, your stomach full, your skin returning to a healthy color. You stood up, steady and sure on your feet for the first time in months.

"Where do you think you're going?" Klaus asked, reaching out and grabbing your wrist.

"A hotel, I'm thinking luxury suite, room service, a month long spa treatment, the works," you replied, "thanks for the save, I'm off."

You tried to pull your arm away, but his grip tightened, yanking you towards him.

"Such hubris, little fox," he said, his voice cold and menacing, "you don't really think we're going to just let you go, do you?"

You struggled in his grasp, but it was no use. He was too strong, and you were still too weak. You looked to Elijah, a silent plea, but he just shrugged, an amused smile on his lips.

"What the hell do you mean?" You asked.

"Well, there is the fact that you owe us a favor, but also," he said, leaning forward, his mouth brushing your ear, "I still think your lying,"

And with that, he reached for your neck and with one swift move he snapped it. You didn't even have a chance to react, and as you fell to the ground, the world fading away.

When you woke up, you were somewhere else, on a large, incredibly comfortable sofa, the smell of leather and wood in the air. The light was dim, and it took you a moment to get your bearings. You heard a crackling fire, the sounds of music playing from somewhere, and the voices of the Mikaelson's arguing.

"I don't believe she was lying," Elijah said.

"Really, I'm surprised at you brother," Klaus replied, "considering how she ended things with you,"

Elijah sighed and didn't respond. You couldn't see him, but you imagined him adjusting his suit, and the way his jaw twitched when he was annoyed.

"I'm not inclined to trust her either," Elijah said, "But I think holding her captive is pointless,"

"She's a risk," Klaus argued, "and she's not leaving till I'm sure she's not lying."

You sat up and glanced around, trying to see where they were. It was a large living room, the furniture was ornate and expensive, with antique looking paintings on the wall, and bookshelves lining every surface. There was a coffee table next to the sofa you were on, and your eyes landed on a fresh horror that was laying there.

You let out a blood curdling scream, one that echoed in the space and made Klaus and Elijah appear almost instantly. You were still staring, frozen in place, unable to look away.

A human head was sitting on the table, his skin pale and his eyes wide and lifeless. It was one of the witches that had tortured you, and it was sitting there, staring at you.

"Jesus Christ, is that necessary?" You snapped, pointing at the head.

Klaus grinned, looking down at the head, and shrugging, "I thought you would appreciate the gesture,"

"I don't!" You exclaimed.

"Perhaps you could have done something a little less barbaric," Elijah suggested.

"Oh come now brother, where's the fun in that," Klaus replied, and Elijah rolled his eyes.

"It's a peace offering," Klaus replied, walking over and lifting the head up, tossing it from one hand to the other, "do you like it?"

"No!" You yelled, covering your eyes and trying not to gag, "I want it gone, get rid of it,"

"Oh, come on little fox, don't be so uptight," He replied, his voice low and dangerous, "I remember when you used to enjoy this sort of thing,"

An awkward tension filled the room. Elijah cleared his throat and Klaus laughed.

"Too far?" He asked.

"Just a bit," Elijah replied.

"Sorry, my bad," he said, turning his attention back to you, "now, let's discuss how you're going to repay us."

"What, not even a hello, or how are you?" You asked, standing up.

Elijah gently pushed you back down onto the sofa. He sat down next to you, giving you a small smile, and placing a hand on your knee. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you cursed yourself for the reaction. You had been the one to ruin things with him, and yet, being near him again, it made you wish you hadn't.

"This happy reunion calls for wine!" Klaus called, he chucked the head somewhere out of sight and strided over to a mini bar, pulling out a bottle and glasses, "unfortunately I don't have anything fancy at this particular bar, but this is a decent 1990s vintage, which I think is passable,"

"I don't drink anything after the 1900s," Elijah replied, leaning back against the sofa.

Klaus scoffed, but didn't reply, instead he poured himself a glass and downed it in one gulp.

"Fine," he grumbled, "make me go to the cellar, like some sort of servant,"

"If the shoe fits," Elijah quipped.

You watched the exchange, trying to process everything that had happened. They were different now, their accents and mannerisms, not to mention their appearances. But the easy banter between them, and the way they were able to get under each other's skin, that hadn't changed one bit.

"Are you two ever not at each other's throats?" You asked, leaning back, "seriously, you are worse than an old married couple."

"Far worse," Klaus yelled, before disappearing down a hallway, off to retrieve the good wine.

"Don't mind him," Elijah said, turning to you, "he's never been very appreciative of fine cuisine."

"I know. He's a heathen," you replied, smiling.

Elijah didn't return the smile, his gaze fixed on you, a strange expression on his face. His eyes were dark and intense, and the longer he looked, the more uncomfortable you felt.

"You've changed," he said.

"So have you," you replied, "it's been centuries and I wasn't exactly eager to run into either of you again."

He didn't respond. The silence hung in the air, neither of you wanting to talk about the elephant in the room. What had happened, was painful, and neither of you had really moved on.

"Why did you do it?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You bit your lip. A million lies flashed through your mind. The truth was cruel, and you didn't want to admit it, but it was the only option.

"Because I was bored," you admitted, "and I didn't know any other way to handle it, so I turned it all off,"

"And found a far more vigorous lover in the process," Klaus said, suddenly appearing with an older bottle of wine.

He handed it to Elijah, who looked over the label and nodded. Klaus gave you a wink and sat down on the chair across from the two of you.

Elijah didn't speak, and you couldn't read his expression. He looked hurt, and his gaze turned away from you. Guilt was a feeling you spent a lot a time accepting back into your life, but to witness the consequences, that was far worse.

"Whoops, still a sore subject I see," Klaus teased.

"Niklaus, shut up," Elijah snapped.

Klaus threw his hands up in mock surrender, and didn't say anything, a satisfied smile on his face. He was just as much to blame as you, but clearly he had no remorse and was loving the awkwardness of the moment.

Elijah uncorked the wine and poured a glass for all three of you. The tension in the room was still palpable, and as much as you wanted to apologize, you knew that nothing would fix what you had done.

"To reunions, and bloody witches," Klaus said, raising his glass, "to past lovers and new enemies, to the future, whatever that may bring,"

He chuckled and took a long drink. You and Elijah didn't move, still looking away from each other.

"Oh, come on, I'm not doing this whole thing alone," Klaus said, glaring at the two of you, "let's play a game,"

"You know, I'm not really in the mood for a game," you said, crossing your arms.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm not asking," Klaus replied, his voice dripping with false kindness, "now, the rules are simple, tell the truth or take a drink,"

"We are not children," Elijah protested, "we don't need games to imbibe,"

"Oh, I beg to differ," Klaus said, "so, what shall we ask first? Hmmm... oh, how about, why were you in New Orleans?"

You stared at him, unsure if you should just answer, or try to get out of the game. He was looking at you, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. You could feel his anger, and the last thing you wanted was to piss him off.

"I needed an answer to a question," you replied, "it's… important to me,"

Klaus and Elijah exchanged a glance, both of them curious about what you meant.

"How intriguing," Klaus said, leaning back, "and what was this question?"

"Doesn't work that way," you replied, a smile creeping onto your face, "it's your turn,"

"Clever girl," Klaus replied, grinning.

"My turn," Elijah said, turning to Klaus, "where did you find this bottle,"

"Why does that matter?" Klaus replied, annoyed.

"I don't remember seeing that year in the cellar," Elijah replied, taking a sip.

"Perhaps it was from your secret stash…" Klaus asked, smirking, "the one I'm not supposed to know about?"

Elijah glared at him, and you stifled a laugh. Their arguments were always funny, and this was no exception.

"Well, I was feeling sentimental, so I grabbed one of the better years," Klaus explained, "what's the harm in a little nostalgia,"

Elijah didn't say anything, his gaze turning back to the glass, swirling the wine around.

"My turn," you said, "how did you find me?"

"Simple," Klaus said, "we have spies everywhere, and witches are the most gossiping creatures on the planet. When I heard they were torturing a lovely little vampire that matched your description, well… we just had to see for ourselves,"

You were shocked, that they had gone out of their way to find you. You hadn't expected them to care, or even remember you, and to know they had saved you just because they could, it was a strange feeling.

"But, why bother saving me?" You asked, genuinely curious, "you don't owe me anything, not after how I left things,”

They both fell silent, exchanging a glance that seemed to have an entire conversation within it. After a moment, Elijah spoke.

"It's always better to know where our enemies stand," he said, "you are a useful asset, and a potential enemy,"

"And," Klaus added, "we love killing witches who get too big for their boots,"

Elijah glared at him and then sighed, "That too,"

You didn't say anything, their reasoning making perfect sense. You had a history with the two of them, but that didn't mean you were friends.

Elijah's arm stretched behind you, casually resting on the back of the couch. His fingers brushed your shoulder and you felt your breath catch. His hand was warm and you could feel his thumb stroke your shoulder.

"What did the witches ask you?" he said, his voice soft and low. “Tell us the whole truth,”

His hand moved subtly to the back of your neck, a quiet threat, one that didn't require words. You understood the unspoken message and knew that if you didn't give him an answer he was happy with, then you would end up the same way as the head that was somewhere in the house.

"They asked about your weaknesses, how to kill you," you admitted, "I told them to go fuck themselves and in return they upped to torture severely,”

Klaus snorted, clearly impressed. He poured himself another glass, while Elijah gave you a satisfied nod.

"Why the loyalty? We haven't spoken in centuries," Elijah asked, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck, "I seem to remember you hating us both,"

You picked up your glass and took a long drink, not saying anything.

"Not a fan of the question?" He asked.

"It's not loyalty, but self preservation," you said, shrugging, "the wrath of witches is one thing, but you two? That's a death wish,"

Klaus laughed and held up his glass, "well played, sweetheart,"

Elijah didn't remove his hand, his fingers lightly caressing the nape of your neck, his gaze never wavering from yours.

"My turn," you said, trying not to squirm under his touch, "why not kill me? You are clearly afraid I hold secrets you rather I didn't,"

"Call it … Nostalgia," Klaus said, a wicked grin on his face, "I do so love to reminisce, and if I am being honest, you are one of the more fun memories,"

"Ah yes, your one weakness, sentimental attachment to those you've slept with," you quipped, taking another drink, the alcohol warming your throat.

"I guess it's the one thread of our humanity we've never been able to shake," Klaus admitted.

You raised your glass and downed the rest of it, setting the glass down with a small clink. Elijah refilled it, his hand now resting on your lower back. You tried to ignore it, but every touch made you more aware of him, and less able to concentrate.

"Let's make a deal," Klaus said, his expression serious, "we will let you go, if you answer why you are in New Orleans,"

You bit your lip, wondering if they would even believe you.

"I'm here because..." you paused, looking down at the ground, "I heard a witch here can help with... Fertility,"

They both froze, a stunned look on their faces.

"A baby?" Elijah asked, his eyes wide.

"Is that what you've been chasing all these centuries?" Klaus asked, clearly surprised.

You looked up at both of them, two of the oldest beings to walk this earth. Them, of all people, you hoped would understand your reasons.

"I've experienced everything I've ever wanted too in my long life," you began, your hands twisting in your lap, "climbed the tallest mountains, swam in the deepest oceans, drank with Kings of long forgotten empires, fucked and fed from the greatest artists, poets, warriors and philosophers the world has ever known... but now I wish for only one thing,"

You stopped, swallowing a lump in your throat, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"To be a mother," you whispered, "to impart my wisdom on someone, and love them more than anything. To show them the beauty of the world and watch them grow up, have children of their own, and carry on a legacy. It's the one thing I haven't done, and the one thing I want most in the world,"

You thought that Klaus would laugh, perhaps even mock you, but he didn't, instead his expression was sympathetic, and Elijah's was one of understanding.

"You are not the wild, reckless creature that we used to know," Klaus said, "you have changed,"

"And so have you," you replied.

The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of the conversation settle.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Elijah asked, his arm now firmly around your waist.

"All I found was a chains and a cell," you replied, "I was a fool, blinded by hope. All that awaited me was pain,"

Klaus poured you another drink, they couldn't help you, but at least they could offer you a distraction.

The night quickly dissolved into a drunken revelry. The three of you laughing and drinking, the old days a source of amusement. Your belly was full of blood and wine, and the tension between the three of you had dissipated.

"Now that I have determined you aren't a threat, it's time to get down to the real questions," Klaus said, "who is the better lover? Me or my dear brother,"

"Seriously?" You exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

"What?" He replied, "I'm just curious, I promise I won't get jealous,"

"I'm not answering that," you said.

"Yes, well, I would rather not hear the answer," Elijah interjected.

"You are no fun," Klaus replied, and then leaned forward, his gaze intense, "I'm going to assume it's me,"

"Interesting assumption," you said, raising an eyebrow, "but if we're talking about skills, there is a clear winner,"

Elijah grinned, and Klaus shot you an offended look. You laughed and finished the rest of the wine, setting the glass on the table.

"And I've always preferred passion over... Enthusiasm," you said, a hint of teasing in your voice.

Elijah didn't look up from his drink, his face neutral, but you could tell he was smiling. Klaus huffed, and crossed his arms.

"I would be delighted to remind you," Klaus said, leaning forward and placing a hand on your thigh, "just say the word, and we can retire to a more comfortable location."

You grabbed his wrist and twisted, until you felt his bones shatter. He cried out in pain, then quickly recovered, the bones snapping back into place.

"That's not how this works," you replied, smiling sweetly.

He stared at you, his expression changing from shock to a pleased smile.

"Still the same fire, I see," he replied, "a good reminder of the past,"

"If I were to sleep with either of you again, it would be on my terms, certainly not when I'm held captive," you snapped.

"Who said anything about holding you captive," Klaus replied, "if we were, you would still be shackled to the wall,"

"Some might enjoy that sort of thing," Elijah remarked, his cheeks were a bit rosy from drink and you enjoyed how it made him seem less cold.

"Have you done that sort of thing Elijah?" You teased, "I never would have taken you for a deviant,"

He shrugged, a sly smile on his face, "I don't divulge such things,"

"Oh, please, you can tell us," Klaus said, "unless you haven't, and are simply trying to pretend like you have,"

"Or perhaps he has and is ashamed of the things he's done," you added, laughing.

Elijah glared at the two of you, the playful glint in his eyes giving him away. He simply stood up and held out his hand to you, the confidence in his stance and the way he looked at you sent a jolt of heat through your body.

"The only way to know for sure, is to experience it for yourself," he said, his tone seductive, "I'll leave the choice up to you,"

You stared at him, a sudden desire coursing through your veins. This was a terrible idea, but at the same time, a chance to have a night of freedom and pleasure after months of torture was an offer you couldn't resist.

"If I say no, am I free to go?" You challenged, meeting his gaze.

"You were never a prisoner," he replied, "the only person keeping you here is yourself,"

He was right. They hadn't chained you, or compelled you, and now that the threat of danger was gone, there was nothing stopping you from walking out the door. But that was not what you wanted, and the look in his eyes was too enticing.

"Alright, but I need a shower first, I still smell of dungeon and witch piss," you said, standing up and taking his hand, "and you better not disappoint,"

He smiled, his eyes dark with desire, and pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was intense, and you clung to his shoulders, melting into his embrace.

Klaus scoffed, he loathed being left out.

"Really?" he grumbled, pouring himself another glass. "Can you keep the noise to a minimum, I would prefer to have a little sleep tonight,"

You let out a soft giggle, "oh, don't pout, you can come too,"

Klaus raised an eyebrow, looking to his brother for an answer. Elijah nodded, a smirk on his face.

"If she insists," Elijah said, his voice smooth, "you know I've never been good at denying her,"

Klaus immediately got to his feet, throwing his glass of wine into the fireplace. The flames leapt up, the red embers glowing, illuminating the room in a fiery light. He walked over and wrapped an arm around your waist, his lips brushing your ear, his hand cupping your ass.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've fantasized about having you in bed again?" He whispered, his breath hot against your neck.

You smiled and pushed him away, enjoying his expression of surprise.

"Well, then, why are we still standing here," you said, sauntering out of the room, "the night won't last forever,"

Elijah caught up with you in the hallway, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you up against the wall. He kissed you, his hands sliding down to your thighs and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ran your fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss.

He carried you all the way to his bedroom, never once breaking the kiss. The room was dark, and the bed was large and covered in dark silk sheets. He pointed to his bathroom, and you pulled your tattered clothes off, leaving them on the floor.

You went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to get warm. You felt his arms wrap around you and turned around, letting him press you up against the tile. He kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of bare skin, his touch igniting a fire within you.

Klaus quickly joined you, he had undressed in the other room, and stood naked in the doorway. You smiled at him, enjoying the way his muscles flexed as he moved.

Elijah pulled away from you to undress and you watched as his shirt was unbuttoned and fell to the ground. His pants followed, and your eyes roamed his body, admiring his muscular frame. The two of them were opposites in many ways, but they both had a beauty to them, and right now you could hardly choose which one you wanted more.

You took both their hands and pulled them under the steamy water, running your hands across their skin. Their bodies were warm and firm, their skin soft under your fingertips. You kissed Elijah, while Klaus kissed and licked your breasts, his hands wandering between your legs.

You could feel his fingers brush against your wet core, his thumb pressing against your clit. He slowly circled the sensitive nub, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your hands wandered down to Elijah's cock, gently stroking the hard length.

Elijah kissed you, his lips trailing down your neck, his hand gently caressing your breasts. You moaned, enjoying the feeling of their hands on your body.

Their touch was overwhelming, hands and mouths everywhere, and it was only when the water started to turn cold that you all stepped out, laughing and breathless.

Elijah pulled you on to his bed, and you fell on to his chest. His lips found yours and you lost yourself in his kiss. You felt the bed dip and Klaus pressed his lips against your shoulder, his hands running along your thighs. He kissed his way down your spine, his hands pushing your ass up in the air.

His lips trailed along the curve of your lower back, his fingers tracing the line of your hip. He placed a soft kiss on your inner thigh and you moaned, anticipation coiling in your stomach.

You felt his tongue flick across your pussy and you gasped, arching your back. He chuckled and began licking and sucking, his tongue expertly teasing your clit.

Elijah's hands cupped your face and you turned your attention back to him. His eyes were blown wide with lust, his gaze fixed on yours. You kissed him, the taste of the wine still lingering on his lips. His cock was hard against your stomach and you could feel his desire pulsing through his veins.

Your hand trailed down his chest, and you wrapped your fingers around his cock, slowly stroking the thick shaft. His eyebrows arched in pleasure, and you could feel his muscles tighten.

You kissed your way down his chest until you were level with his cock. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, enjoying the sound of his low moans. A gentle hum left your throat and you felt him shudder.

You took him in your mouth, gently sucking and swirling your tongue. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair. His grip tightened and you increased your pace, taking his length deeper.

Klaus moved away for a moment, and you could see Elijah observing whatever he was doing, a dark smile spreading across his face. You felt the bed dip as Klaus returned, and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back.

A moment later, the soft leather of a belt wrapped around them, and he secured the belt, tight enough that you couldn't move, but not too tight that it hurt.

Elijah's eyes met yours, and a wicked smile played across his lips. "Do you enjoy being tied up? Being helpless and at our mercy?" He asked, his voice a deep growl.

You nodded eagerly, taking him further into your mouth. His eyes darkened, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, his hips thrusting forward. You could feel him hit the back of your throat and gagged, your eyes watering.

Klaus kissed your lower back, then positioned himself at your entrance. You gasped as he slowly slid inside, the stretch sending waves of pleasure through your body. He held still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, then slowly began to move.

You moaned, the sensation of being filled by both of them overwhelming. They began to move in a steady rhythm, Klaus thrusting into you while Elijah fucked your mouth. You were helpless, pinned between them, unable to do anything but submit.

The sound of their pleasure sent a shiver of delight through you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to release. Elijah's breathing became ragged, and his grip on your hair tightened. You knew he was close, so you focused on pleasuring him, moving all the way down and swallowing.

He let out a low groan and came, his hot release spilling into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, then pulled away, gasping for air. You smiled up at him, his expression one of bliss.

Klaus continued to thrust into you, his pace increasing. He leaned forward and bit into your shoulder, his fangs sinking deep. You cried out in pain and pleasure, your body shuddering. His bloodlust combined with his own pleasure, the feeling overwhelming, but just as you were about to cum, he stopped.

You let out a whine, and he chuckled, his hands squeezing your ass.

"I don't think I'm quite ready for this to end," he murmured, pulling out.

Elijah's hands moved down to your arms, pulling you forward and guiding you onto his lap. You straddled him, your hands still bound behind your back, and his cock brushed against your wet core.

"Do you remember how you used to love riding me?" He whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

You nodded, eager for him to fill you. He grinned and lifted your hips, slowly lowering you onto his cock. He gripped your hips and began to move you up and down. You moaned, resting your head on his shoulder and grinding your hips.

Klaus positioned himself behind you, and you felt his hand trail down your back. His fingers traced the line of your ass, and then he spread your cheeks, exposing your other hole.

"You are such a pretty little thing," he murmured, pressing a finger against your ass, "all tied up and at our mercy,"

He slid a finger inside, the tight ring of muscle giving way. You moaned, the feeling of being filled by both of them overwhelming.

Klaus coated his cock with a lubricant and pressed it against your ass. Elijah held you still, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss. You could feel the tip of Klaus' cock pushing into your ass and whimpered, the stretch bordering on painful.

Klaus slowly sank into you, letting out a low groan. He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep. The feeling of both of them inside you was almost too much, and you moaned, your body trembling.

"Are you enjoying this, love?" Klaus asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Yes," you whimpered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Elijah kissed along your jaw, his fingers digging into your hips, guiding your movements, rocking you back and forth on their cocks.

You felt the heat of their bodies pressed against yours, and their hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing, and teasing. The smell of their sweat and desire was intoxicating, and you were lost in the pleasure, your mind spinning.

Klaus pulled on your wrists, his mouth colliding with the side of your neck. You cried out as he bit into you, his fangs piercing your skin. Elijah kissed the other side, mirroring his brother's bite.

The combination of the pleasure and pain was too much, and you came, your orgasm crashing through your body. You writhed in their arms, your body trembling, waves of ecstasy washing over you.

They kept you pinned between them, bouncing you up and down, their movements rough and animalistic. The belt came loose, and your hands came free.

You wrapped your arms around Elijah's neck as another orgasm hit, this one even more intense than the last. He smiled at the look of pure bliss on your face and kissed you, his hands tangled in your hair.

Klaus groaned, pressing himself deep as he came, then he slowly pulled out, kissing the nape of your neck.

Elijah soon followed, his eyes meeting yours as he shuddered, spilling into you. You collapsed against him, exhausted and sated. He gently stroked your hair, his gaze soft and loving.

"I forgot how good you are at that," you mumbled, your eyes drifting closed.

He chuckled, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. You snuggled against his chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

Klaus laid down next to the two of you, his eyes bright, and a smile on his face. "What about me? Any thoughts?" He asked, and you giggled, the alcohol still coursing through your system.

"You were pretty good, too," you replied, reaching out and patting his arm.

He grinned, his hand coming to rest on the top of your thigh. "I don't know why we didn't do this earlier, it would have saved us all a lot of trouble," he said.

Elijah nodded, a small smirk on his lips, "you may be right,"

"I'm sorry for leaving you the way I did," you said softly, running your hands through Elijah's hair, "and thank you for coming to save me,"

He nodded, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, then helped you off his lap, and onto the bed, covering the three of you with a silk sheet.

"Do you mind if I stay here a while? It's been so long since I've had a good night's sleep," you mumbled, your fingers curling into Elijah's chest, holding him tight.

He didn't reply, just pulled you closer, his hand stroking your back, lulling you to sleep.

"We've got all the time in the world, love," Klaus said softly, his voice barely a whisper, "we'll make sure no more nasty witches get their hands on you,"

It had been so long since you had felt so content, you could feel the warmth of their skin, smell their cologne, hear the beat of their hearts. You could taste the blood and whiskey in the air, and it felt right, like you had come home.

[cherryobx]

Illicit affairs

a/n: last fic of my 2.4k picnic! thank u all for requesting and participating! i love yall! also, this song is so Rafe fr

pairing: Rafe Cameron x pogue!reader

summary: you're tired of keeping your relationship a secret

warnings: rafe is a simp but also so stupid, language, like one sexual innuendo i think, mentions of alcohol, drugs and doing them (idk if i missed anything but if i did pls let me know)

wc: 4.3k

Even though it wasn’t technically wrong in any way, it seemed that way. People in Kildare had been separated into two for so long that it made it almost sinful or illegal in a sense for a pogue and a kook to be together. But you loved him. You loved Rafe.

You met him at Midsummers. Sarah begged you to go with her because she didn’t want to go alone and converse with all the snotty kooks there, even though she herself was a part of that society unfortunately. She just needed someone there for her so she could make this evening a bit less insufferable.

“It doesn’t seem so bad, to be honest,” you said looking around yourself and the people there who were dressed in all kinds of fancy outfits. You yourself included.

Sarah offered to buy you a dress. You denied her offer at first but after rummaging through your own closet you finally said yes to her. You didn’t have anything to wear to an event like that. You also didn’t want people to make fun of you or notice immediately that you definitely didn’t belong there.

Sarah was happy to help you out and go shopping together. It took you a whole day to find something you not only liked but felt confident in. You also kept your eye on the price tags and made sure to not pick anything super expensive because you were planning on paying her back. Even though she insisted that it was a gift and she didn’t want your money.

“Trust me. It will get worse as people drink. They start getting chatty and ask too many questions that I don’t wanna answer.” She scoffed and took a sip of her champagne flute.

“Like what?” you asked curiously.

“Every year they’re like ‘are you seeing anyone’, ‘what college are you going to’, ‘planning on getting married’ or stuff like that. Like let me live. It’s none of their business. One time this older lady kept telling me I needed to lose weight. Like what? It’s insane.”

Your eyes are wide in slight shock. “Yeah, they never know when to shut up, do they?” 

“No, they do not.”

And then your eyes met his. He was standing across the room with a bunch of his friends. Rafe tilted his head as he looked at you curiously. You felt almost exposed under his gaze. There was a small smirk on his face as he raised his glass, saluting you, before downing its contents with one gulp. 

You were sure he knew you weren’t a kook. He saw right through you. But you didn’t find it in you to care. 

You mimicked his actions and the smirk on his face grew into a smile.

You kept stealing glances at each other throughout the night and once Sarah was pulled away by some of her acquaintances, Rafe made his move

He was standing at your side in a second. “You lost?”

“Why would I be lost?” you asked, turning your head so you could look up at him.

“Because you don’t belong here, sweetheart.” 

Your heart rate picked up at the pet name he used, making you nervous. He was so attractive, although you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. He looked really good in his suit. He wasn’t wearing a tie and the first couple buttons of his shirt were undone.

“That obvious?” You chuckled and took a sip of your champagne.

“Surprisingly not really. But I’ve seen you running around with your pogue friends so I know you’re not a kook.”

“That I am not. But I’m a friend of Sarah’s. She invited me here so please don’t rat me out,” you pleaded.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl. See you around.” He left as suddenly as he arrived, leaving you standing there with a dumbfounded look on your face and a stomach full of butterflies. 

Pretty girl.

Somehow, through many coincidences, you and Rafe kept seeing each other around more often. At Tannyhill when you were visiting Sarah, at your work, on the street. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him around before but it was weird how you seemed to run into him much more after the Midsummer incident.

Your relationship with Rafe took off after one night at Tannyhill when you couldn’t sleep so you wandered around the house and ran into Rafe in the kitchen who was getting a late night snack.

“Well look who it is?” He smirked. “Isn’t that my favorite pogue?”

“Am I not the only pogue you’re not absolutely disgusted by?” You asked and hopped onto the kitchen island, sitting there and dangling your legs.

Rafe took in your appearance. You were wearing shorts and a large hoodie. You looked really cozy. He almost wanted to tuck you to bed and give you a goodnight kiss, which he realized was an absolute crazy thought to have.

“Hence why you’re my favorite.” He stood next to you, booped your nose, and leaned against the counter, facing you. 

“Want one?” He held out a small bowl full of strawberries that he had previously washed and removed the tops from.

“Sure. Thanks.” You looked at him for a second before taking one from the bowl and popping it into your mouth. It seemed insane to be on speaking terms with the Rafe Cameron who was known for being an asshole to pogues.

Another thought you had, which you also thought was an insane one, was that he was beautiful. He had always been extremely handsome but in that moment, in the moonlight, he was breathtaking.

“You’re thinking really loud,” he commented after catching you staring at him with a disconnected look in your eyes.

You’re shaken from your trance and your eyes meet his. “What?”

“I said you’re thinking loud, kid.” 

Again with the nicknames. You were pretty certain he knew what he was doing.

“Oh umm…” you started but then he scooted closer to you and all thoughts vanished from your head.

And he noticed. Of course he noticed. Rafe was not stupid. He knew what kind of effect he had on girls. But he liked your reactions especially. He found himself liking you, actually. He never thought he’d like a pogue, that he’d not be repulsed by one. But with you it seemed to be the opposite. He was drawn to you.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asks. He pushed himself off the counter, putting down his bowl of strawberries, and forced himself between your legs. You instinctively made more room for him, accommodating his large frame in your space.

“Nothing much.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? You were so deep in thought just a second ago.”

He places his hands on your bare thighs, feeling your warm skin under his palms. You looked down and saw how big his hands were and swallowed thickly.

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t be coy. Share with the class.”

You laughed. “What class, Rafe?” 

He smiled. “Come on, baby. Don’t be shy. I shared my strawberries with you.”

“A strawberry for my thoughts?”

His smile widened, revealing his perfect teeth. “Exactly.”

“What do you wanna know?” You raise an eyebrow at him in question.

He shrugs. “Just what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking that the moonlight is very pretty.” It was not completely a lie but also not the full truth. And Rafe knew that.

He squeezed your thighs with his hands. “What else?”

“That you’re really close to me.” He leaned even closer at that. He was so close your noses were almost touching. His eyes darted to your lips for a second before he looked back up at your eyes.

“Are you bothered by that?”

“No.”

“Anything else on your mind?” You couldn’t help but look down at his lips too. It was just a second but Rafe caught that. Of course he did.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” you confirmed, obviously not being honest. There were about a million scenarios in your head at that moment and all of them included Rafe’s lips on yours and his tongue in your mouth.

“Fucking liar.”

“I’m not lying,” you tried to deny it but he saw right through you.

“You’re not lying?”

You shook your head.

“Is that so?” 

You nodded. Rafe smiled and leaned in. Your lips were just about to touch.”Why are you lying to me?”

You open your mouth to once again deny his claims but he interrupted you even before you could begin. “Be honest, baby.”

Baby.

“I’m thinking about your lips.” You were almost shocked at your own words, they just slipped out. 

“My lips? What about them?” He knew exactly what you meant but found joy in teasing the living hell out of you.

“They look so kissable.” You were wondering if you were drunk because you’d never say stuff like that to him of all people in the daylight.

“Then you should probably find out if they are as kissable as they look.”

You blinked at him. “Why are you acting like this?”

He looked confused as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Like what?”

“You’re flirting with me. And touching me.”

“So? Can’t I? Say the word and I’ll back off.”

“No, it’s just that I’m a pogue. Don’t you like want to light me on fire and stuff?”

His forehead fell to your shoulder as he chuckled. “Light you on fire? You’re funny, kid.”

Kid.

“Don’t you?”

He raised his head and looked you in the eyes again. “I would like to do many things to you but lighting you on fire is not one of them.”

“Then why are you flirting with me?”

“Is it that crazy that I actually like you? That I’m attracted to you?”

“Kind of,” you admit. 

“Why?”

“Because you’re a kook? Because you’re insanely hot and I can’t imagine you wanting anything to do with me?”

“You think I’m hot?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head. Your ego is big enough as it is.”

“You know what else is big?” He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked knowingly.

You gave him a gentle shove but laughed nonetheless. “Shut up.”

He laughed alongside you and it felt good. It was fun. He was fun. You never thought you could use that word to describe Rafe but that’s how it felt.

When your laughter died down he got this look in his eyes that could only be described as ‘hungry’. He wanted something, craved something.

Automatically you angled your body towards his. It was like something was pulling you. A magnet of sorts, perhaps.

Once again you found yourself close. You were too close for a pogue and a kook anyway but too close for two random people as well.

His eyes met yours in a plea. And you took the leap, leaning in and connecting your lips. He didn’t waste a second to kiss you back. It was slow and almost sweet at first, experimental. But then it got heated. Hands everywhere.

You didn’t find it in yourself to care about the consequences or future in that moment. You didn’t care that it was socially not acceptable for you to be making out with a kook. You just didn’t care. You just wanted to kiss him.

After that night, these meetings started happening intentionally. Sometimes Rafe sneaked into your house, other times you snuck into his. You found each other at every party, every event. It became serious. But both of you knew that this was meant to be a secret. This relationship was only for you two, no one else.

“Make sure no one sees you, okay?” You stood on your front porch, Rafe in front of you who was about to leave. He had spent the night but had to leave before your parents woke up. They’d kill you if they knew you were dating a kook, Rafe Cameron at that. The sun was starting to rise and the birds were chirping. It was a beautiful morning.

You grabbed the hood of his hoodie and pulled it up to cover him up as much as possible. You didn’t want to risk anything.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll take the other route, no one really uses it.” He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “Bye, baby.”

“Bye.” You waved him off and watched him drive away.

Soon, your friends started suspecting that something was going on. They saw how happy and glowing you looked, tremendously more than you usually were, but couldn’t figure out for the life of them what or who exactly it was.

“What’s got you in such a good mood lately?” Kie asked one day when all of you were sitting in John B’s backyard, you, Kie, and Sarah in the hammock and the guys in lawn chairs.

You shrugged “It’s summer.”

“Bullshit,” JJ scoffed.

“Bullshit?” Did they really see right through you?

“Yeah. I’ve never seen you like this,” he commented, narrowing his eyes at you like he was trying to see into your brain and what was going on in there.

“Like what?”

They all looked at each other, speaking only with their eyes. That meant that they had discussed this topic previously and were hesitant to bring up their suspicions.

“You seem…in love,” Sarah said. It was actually kind of ironic how she was the one who spoke up. If she only knew it was her own brother who you were seeing.

“In love? What?” You tried to play it off by acting confused. “I'm as single as ever.”

Pope rolled his eyes at you. “Yeah right. You know you’re a horrible liar right?”

“Shut up.”

“We’re going to find out eventually who this mystery lover is. It’s either you tell us or we’ll do some investigating.”

You suddenly became nervous. “Just drop it guys. Okay?”

They raised their hands in surrender but exchanged quick looks with each other which told you that the topic wasn’t as much as dropped as it was postponed.

Later that night you snuck off to see Rafe. You excused yourself and lied that you were tired and your head was hurting. They didn’t seem convinced but didn’t start prying either. You made sure you weren’t followed when you biked to Tannyhill. 

Sneaking into his house wasn’t very hard. The place is huge, so many doors to enter through without being seen.

He met you at the staircase and dragged you to his room.

“They suspect that I’m seeing someone.” You were laying between Rafe’s big arms in his bed under the covers, all cozy and warm. Your back was against his chest, his body curled around yours. It made you feel very safe,

“Who?”

“My friends, your sister.”

“Wheezie?”

“No, Sarah, you idiot.” He laughed and then placed a kiss on your shoulder, the action making you feel all giddy inside.

“They won’t find out. They’re stupid.”

“Hey!” You furrowed your brows. “Don’t call them that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a part of that group. By calling them stupid, you’re calling me stupid.”

“Who said you aren’t stupid?” You just knew he was smirking.

“Asshole.”

“You love me.”

“Are you sure about that?” You turned around in his arms and looked at him, a smirk on your face.

“Yes.” He said confidently, placing a soft kiss on your nose before pressing one to your lips. You closed your eyes in bliss, relishing in the feeling.

Weeks turned into months and so far into your relationship you had managed to hide it and be with him undetected. Your friends tried to do some detective work but unsuccessfully so.

“Aren’t you tired?” Sarah asked one night when you were sitting in John B’s backyard once again, just chilling and spending time with each other.

“Of what?”

“Of hiding your relationship.”

There was a beat of silence. You thought about what she said. And she was right. You were kind of tired, obviously not of Rafe but all the sneaking around and almost never seeing each other in the daylight. You love being with him and love spending time with him but sometimes you actually wanted to be out in public with him. To go on dates or the beach together or whatever normal couples did.

And you wanted to be with him without hiding it. Without either of you caring about what others might think. Without there being judgment from people closest to you.

“I have to go.” You stood up.

“What? Why? I’m sorry if what I said upset you.” Sarah jumped up too, grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“No, it’s not that. I just have to go.”

You texted Rafe to meet you at a random parking lot where he sometimes picked you up. You arrived before him and paced around nervously, biting the skin on the inside of your lips.

He pulled up about 10 minutes later, parked the car and then got out, hurrying to you. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He placed his hands on your arms and looked you in the eyes with a worried expression, searching for the answer in your eyes.

“I’m fine, Rafe. I just needed to talk to you.”

He furrowed his brows and stood up taller. “Okay. What is it?”

“Sarah said something tonight and it made me think.”

Rafe rolled his eyes at that. “Sarah?”

You nodded. “She asked me if I was tired of hiding us, our relationship.”

“And?”

“I am. I’m so tired, Rafe. Aren’t you?” You asked, looking him in the eyes.

He contemplated for a second. “I am. But there isn’t really anything we could do about it, right?”

“We could just say fuck it and go public?” you asked, voice filled with hope.

“Go public? No, that’s not a good idea.” He shook his head, shooting down your idea immediately.

You were taken aback by that. “You said you were tired too?”

“Yes but this,” he pointed a finger back and forth between you two, “going public will ruin both of us.”

“Will it? We don’t know that, Rafe. We can’t possibly know that.”

“It most definitely will,” he argued.

“How can you be so sure?”

“We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“So? I love you, Rafe. I don’t care anymore. I wanna be your girlfriend everywhere, not just your bedroom or this random-ass parking lot. I want to be your girlfriend during the day too, not just night. Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I do but it’s not that simple. You’re asking for a lot.”

You took a step back, away from him. “I’m asking for a lot? I want us to be normal!”

“Baby.” He tried to get closer again but you just backed up again.

“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me right now! Do you even love me?” You were beginning to feel frustrated and that brought tears to your eyes.

“Of course I love you! You knew that this is what it was going to be like when we started dating. You knew!” He was clearly angry and frustrated too.

You took in a shaky breath. Rafe’s constantly angry but it’s never been directed towards you before.

“Then I can’t do this anymore.”

“Kid-” he said, voice now quieter, almost pleading.

“No, I can’t do this to myself.” You turned around and hurried towards your bike which was lying next to the curb. 

“Let’s just talk about this!” he called after you.

“Clearly there’s nothing to talk about anymore.” You looked back at him.

“I love you.”

“Do you?” you asked, eyes filled with tears.

“Of course I do.”

“Then why don’t you want to be with me?”

“I do want to be with you but what we have is complicated.”

“It’s really not, Rafe.” You got on your bike and pedaled away as quickly as possible. You didn’t greet your parents as you got home and stormed past them to your room where you finally broke down.

You loved him. Of course you loved him. But you were tired and he wasn’t willing to compromise. 

Days passed and you barely left your room. All you did was wallow in sadness and cry yourself to sleep every night. And even then you didn’t get any peace because he even filled your dreams. You couldn’t get a break.

Rafe was absolutely miserable too, lashing out at everyone, breaking furniture and punching walls. He couldn’t sleep so he sat on the balcony the whole night, occasionally doing a line or smoking something to make him feel better but it never worked, he couldn’t get the heartbreaking look of you in that parking lot out of his head. 

It was a warm summer night a couple of days after your breakup. Rafe was smoking a joint on the balcony at Tannyhill when Sarah approached him, keeping her distance just in case. She stood by the door and leaned against the frame.

“You should go after her.”

Rafe turned around and stared at his sister. “What?”

Sarah said your name and Rafe swore his heart skipped a beat, or stopped working completely. 

“Why the hell should I talk to her. She’s your friend,” he scoffed and took another hit, looking at the treeline.

“You love her.” 

His head snapped towards Sarah.

“I know, Rafe.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you know but you don’t. So get lost.”

“It wasn’t really hard to figure out,” she continued. “I’ve never seen you actually happy before, you know?”

“Go annoy someone else.” He looks away before taking a big breath to calm his racing heart.

“It’s not the end of the world to love a pogue, Rafe. It’s literally not that big of a deal. You’re so stupid.”

He sighed before he spoke. He couldn’t believe he was about to actually talk to Sarah of all people about this. “It’s not just that.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue and explain what he meant by that.

Another sigh. “She’s the first girl I’ve ever loved and I pussied out when she told me she wanted to stop hiding.”

“Go talk to her.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it is.”

“She loves you, Rafe, for whatever reason. I hate seeing her suffer. I don’t care that much about you but your actions are what caused this. So fix it so I can have my friend back.”

“You’re so annoying, y’know that?” His blunt had run out and he put the butt into the ashtray, then pushing past Sarah into the house

“Where are you going?” She whipped around and followed Rafe down the stairs.

“Where do you think I’m going, dumbass?” 

“Say hi for me.” 

“I won’t.” He slammed the door and got in his car, making the drive across town to your house. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say. That he’s sorry? That’s pathetic.

He stopped the car on the side of the road and walked up to your house, picking up pebbles as he went.

He threw one against your bedroom window. The sound was loud in the quiet of the night but you didn’t open the window on the first try like he had hoped.

He threw one more. And then one after that. He kept trying until you pulled open the window, staring down at him. “What the hell do you want?” you hissed.

“I love you. I was an idiot. I was a pussy and I made a big deal about something that isn’t even that important. I love you and I don’t care who knows. I want you to be mine 24/7. I knew I was going to love you from the moment I saw you at Midsummers. I’m a fucking fool and I’ve never deserved you in the first place. I’ve never deserved your love but I need it. I can’t live without your love. You’re like a drug and I cannot live without you. I can’t get you out of my damn head. I’m half the man that I could be when I’m without you. You’re the first girl I’ve ever loved and I promise I will try to be worthy of you and your love for as long as you’ll have me. I want you to be my girlfriend officially. I want to show you off and take you on dates. I want to introduce you to my dad. I just want you. I will love you in private and in public, when we’re alone and when with friends. I promise. Please, just give me another chance. I’m sorry.”

Rafe watched you disappear from the window and his heart sunk. He tried. He turned to leave but then heard the front door open and saw you sprinting towards him in your cute pajamas and messy hair.

He caught you in his arms, holding you close to his chest so tight you thought you were going to suffocate.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you mumble against his t-shirt.

“I know.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“You will have to do a lot of groveling.”

“I will, I promise.”

You raised your head from his chest, looking up at him. “Did you really mean all that?”

“I did and I do. I love you and it shouldn’t matter if we’re from the opposite sides of an island. It’s not important in the slightest because I love you and that’s all that matters.”

“Do you wanna come inside?” you asked.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you to his side as you made your way back towards the house. He pressed a lingering kiss to your hair, keeping his lips there.

“I love you, kid.”

“I love you too, baby.”

[chaosandmarigolds]

(Did the poll say happiness and rainbows? Yeah but I’m having fun with my angst so here’s more! :) )

“No I want to see him.”

The officer looked at the man, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed, and she narrows her eyes, “As I had told you, sir, Mister Taylor asked for no visitors unless family. And are you related to Missus Taylor or Oliver?” The question was a mock because she knew the answer.

So, with a bite of a tongue Price relented, “Who’s your supervisor?”

“He’s out of office.”

“Fuckin- course he is. Where’s Riley?”

“Mister Riley is currently in questioning.”

Price frowned, “But you already questioned him.”

The officer shrugged, “Our lead detective thought it best to do a second round.”

“Then I want to speak to your lead detective.”

“You and everyone else, take a ticket.”

-

To say your hands were shaking would be an understatement, you had been sitting in Johnny’s car for a close to an hour and so far you probably lost half your body weight in tears. It seemed unreal, there was no way it was actually reality, after all you had been through. It was just….

You jolt when someone knocks on the glass window, only to see Eliza by the door and you let out breath, quickly getting out of the car and into her arms.

“T-they still have Simon in questioning and-and he’s not answering my calls-“

“I know, John’s taking care of it. Oh honey,” her voice was a bit rasped and she looks you over, “You look like a mess.”

Your chest heaves for air as you ramble to her, telling her about how they took you all to the station at four in the morning and how everything was working against your favor. You both sat on the curb outside, as Johnny’s car was an incubator, her arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders and hands holding the coffee she had gotten you.

“Johnny went-Johnny went to be with Ollie, they…they wouldn’t let me see him.”

Eliza scoffs at that, “Bastards. Keeping a child from his mother.”

—

In hindsight it wasn’t best idea.

However, it did do its job. What job was that? Who knew.

“Uh oh,” Ollie whispered from the other side of the conference table, looking to his biological father (who was currently doubled over while clutching his nose), “You made uncle soap maaad.”

“You fucking bitch!” Caleb practically screamed, “I’ll have your job!”

Johnny stood perfectly still for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure if he had just imagined he punched him or if it was reality and he then snapped into the situation, “Ah please, as i’ you go’ a job tha’s all high n mighty.”

It took about a minute before an officer came back in to check on everything, and thanks to a somewhat threatening stare Caleb had just said he got a bloody nose and everything was alright.

“Oliver, come on. We’re leaving.”

“But I don wanna go.”

With a tug and hoist Oliver was being carried on Caleb’s side, “Didn’t ask we have a flight to catch.”

-

“For the fucking millionth time she had Oliver when I met her.”

“According to these files Oliver was with his father.”

“Bullshit!!!” Simon snipped back, his anger growing with each second. Every file, data bank, Facebook post made it seem like Oliver lived with Caleb until he went ‘missing’ two weeks ago. “Look at the bank statements why would she pay insurance for a child she doesn’t even have?”

The detective sighed, “We did, Mister Riley, she’s not paying for any child’s health insurance.”

This was insane.

“Mister Riley, I am going to ask one final time: did you help Missus Taylor take her son?”

With a glare Simon leaned forward on the table, “Didn’t fucking take him, because he’s ’een here wit us for ‘is entire life.”

-

“Caleb?” You slowly move to stand up as you watch your ex husband carry your son out of the station, and within a millisecond your blood was cold, “Oliver?”

“Mommy!” The boy practically screeched at the sight of you, trying to pry himself away from the man’s grasp, “Mommy I don’t wanna go!”

Before you had the chance to get to the car Caleb was currently putting Oliver into, you were held back.

“Lassie, lassie easy-“

“Johnny let-let me go.”

Johnny, with close to zero effort, turns you to face him, “Leave it. It’s gonna be okay, go’ a plan yeah? Ollie’s gonna be in his bed tonight, promise.”

(Teehee, that’s all for now)

[lolokouhm]

| Suguru doesn't eat, but tonight he's hungry | smutty smutty smut | tattooed Geto | depressed Geto | kinda poetic | Geto is young and beautiful and not crazy |

„You haven’t eaten, have you?”

No, Suguru hasn’t eaten.

It’s not like you’re surprised. He’s lost weight - nah, he’s been losing weight steadily for the past few weeks. People say that it’s hard to notice when you see someone regularly, but it’s not hard at all - especially in his case. You’re not sure what’s changed exactly. Suguru still looks relatively healthy, not underweight, but the dark circles under his eyes speak volumes.

You sigh and walk into his apartment. It’s surprisingly neat, to the point it’s a bit scary - so clean it gives an impression as if no living person could function there. And maybe that’s exactly how it is. Maybe that tall, handsome guy in black sweats that greets you is not a person anymore, but a ghost. It’s a question you constantly ask yourself in your head, but never dare to answer. Your heart would break. 

„I wasn’t hungry.” A smile appears on his pale face and you sigh again. 

You’ve been friends with Suguru since high school, but after your last year you went your separate ways, just to meet again years later - just a few months ago. He didn’t change much, at least not visually - except for his arms. He might have gone a little bit crazy on ink there, and that’s exactly what got the two of you talking again. Tattoos. You’ve never expected Suguru Geto, that sophisticated, awfully smart Geto would cover both of his arms in the most insane pieces of art you’ve ever seen. You’ve had your own share of ink under your skin, but your collection was quite messy and not that cohesive. You liked trying new styles, creating your own map of memories from different places and different artists, while his tattoos were definitely an artwork made by one man. You had a million questions, he was happy to answer - that’s how you ended up in his apartment for the first time. Soon you realised you had a million subjects to go through - politics, art, even God. It was easy, talking with him. It was fun.

And then it began - the movie nights, when the two of you were going through different eras of cinema alphabetically, also bringing snacks that would start on the same letter as the movie you were watching. A stupid idea that you shamelessly stole from „The Barbie Diaries” - the first movie you’ve watched together and the first one that left Suguru completely traumatised. 

„Luckily for you, today we’re watching The Notebook, so we’ll be having noodles. What kind of noodles do you want, sir?”, you ask, handing him an invisible microphone.

Suguru chuckles. 

„Spicy.” 

A few clicks later the food is already on its way and the two of you get comfortable on his huge couch. The projector starts warming up and you look around - it’s completely dark inside and if it weren’t for the fact you know Suguru well, you’d think he made the apartament that way so the two of you could watch the movie comfortably. Your gaze goes back to him - his body hunching over the laptop, fighting with Netflix again. 

The projector turns on and the movie starts, as the two of you hide yourselves under the blankets. Unfortunately, you can’t focus. You’re worried.

You’ve had some conversations about his depressive episodes before, so technically you know what he’s going trough, but honestly - you don’t. He doesn’t really talk about it, but if you could get into his head you’d understand how much he values your bare presence next to him. If you could get into his head, you’d know way more, but luckily for Suguru, you can’t. He wouldn’t like that. 

In normal circumstances, at least. Because tonight, he is hungry, he is frustrated, and he needs warmth. 

And you are anything but cold. 

So when he catches your eyes on him, he bets. If you turn away, he’ll let you go. If you give in, he’ll make you stay. 

Three seconds. That’s how much time it takes for Suguru to get closer to you and kiss you. 

It’s short, soft and sensual, but it makes his head go fuzzy, and when he pulls back he just hopes you won’t run away. Don’t run away. Don’t. 

You’re not running.

You’re sitting, legs crossed, just as you were seconds before. Your face is completely red now as Suguru’s eyes scan you carefully, desperate to see the future. Will you go? Will you slap him? 

„Why did you do that?” Your own voice doesn’t even sound like your voice. „The Notebook” in the background is now completely forgotten, the flickering lights on the screen keep on changing and throwing different shades on Suguru’s pale face. You didn’t expect that. Not that you didn’t want to or think about it, it’s just…

„I’m hungry” he whispers, and the way his voice sounds gets shivers sprinting down your spine. „And the food’s not here yet.” 

„Yeah. It’s not.” He still keeps his hands on your cheeks, right thumb gently brushing your skin, touch light as a feather. 

„What are we going to do about it?”, he murmurs, words are barely audible. He’s waiting. There’s another unspoken question hanging between the two of you, and you’re the one who needs to answer.

And that’s exactly what you do. 

Both of your hands are suddenly gripping onto his hoodie as you lean into him, lips crashing yet again, just with much bigger force this time. Suguru’s breath shakes as he finally comprehends that he won the bet and a smile crawls onto his face. You’re kissing him. His ray of sunshine. Well, maybe not his yet, but when he’s done with you, that’s exactly how you will be.

And that’s exactly what he does. 

His lips travel down your jaw, stop for a second under your ear and then go straight to your neck as your hands let go of his hoodie and find their way to his hair, gripping desperately on the black strands loosely caught in a bun. He groans at the feeling as he bites the skin of your exposed collarbone, his fingers playing with the hem of your blouse, eager to feel more and more of you. Suguru looks up and tries his best not to moan at the sight of your face, your lipstick completely devoured. 

„Can I?”, a hoarse whisper leaves his throat, but it’s not even a question. He’s begging you. 

And you let him. 

He takes his own hoodie of as you take off yours - and you can see them again. The artwork on his arms. You lean your body against the pillows on the right side of the couch and Suguru gulps. He’s been imagining that for a while now, but the reality, for the first time in fucking forever, was so, so much better. His lips go back to sucking and licking your skin and by the moment he reaches your breasts you whine. His hot tongue plays with your nipples, making you impossibly wet, and the bare sight of him shirtless in those awfully beautiful sweats is not helping at all. A part of you is relieved - his muscles are still there, tensing a bit with every movement. And when he pulls away for a moment, you notice it.

„You’ve got a new one.” A koi fish, on his ribs, drawn as usual in a traditional style, this time with a bit of colour. Red. Your favourite. Your hand is shaking, but you can’t help yourself. You trace the shape of the tattoo, his hot skin under your fingertips feeling like fire. You are in awe - even more when you look at him again, breathing heavily. A god. He looks like a god. 

And then he proceeds to make you feel like you’re nowhere but in heaven.

He’s not hungry anymore - by the time you’re completely naked he’s starving. His name escapes your lips when his grip on your thighs gets tighter, and then it hits you - his tongue finally making contact with the place you needed him in so desperately. Your hands find his hair again, pulling it relentlessly when he inserts two slender fingers inside of you, at the same time licking your clit. Suguru’s ravenous. You could be his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner, his dessert - everything. He could eat you out all the time, no breaks, no thoughts, no objections. He tries to control his own hips that have been grinding into the couch for a while now, but the feeling of you on his tongue isn’t making it any easier. 

„Suguru…” your voice comes back to you, a familiar feeling slowly building up inside of your stomach. „I’m so close.” 

You really are, and your clouded mind is making the sensation almost unbearable. Suguru groans yet again, happier then ever, and then you hear it.

„Come for me, baby.”

So soft. So simple. Not a demand, by no means. An invitation - to fall apart on his tongue. 

You take it.

His name leaves your lips as your orgasm blinds you, back arching as you pull his hair so hard he groans. Suguru doesn’t stop right away - he makes you ride it out, drinking you like holy water. You shake and quiver and he thinks that maybe that’s exactly what it is. Holy water on his tongue. 

And so you lay, completely fucked out under his perfect body, and when he goes up to look at you he’s almost sure he’s going to come right there, in his pants. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect.

„Fuck.” It falls from his lips as he’s taking these damn pants off and you gasp. „I just… Fuck.” He runs his hands down his face, your arousal glistening all over him. It’s like he shines. You might be going insane. Fucking Geto Suguru, hovering over you, his cock impossibly hard, looking for words. „Can I…”

Before he finishes, you lean into him and bring him down, pulling his neck closer to you and diving into the kiss. He pants and you get scared - it’s not reality. It can’t be. Suguru leaning into your touch, Suguru groaning into your ear, Suguru, Suguru, Suguru. His name carved all over your body, all over your mind. 

He goes in slowly, trying his best not to come right away, but he’s more than determined to make you cum again, this time on his cock. He starts thrusting, diving as deep as possible and then reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. It feels so good. Too good to be true. He doesn’t fuck you - it’s way more than that. His lips move up and down your neck, leaving desperate kisses between pants and grunts. Suguru is in pain and you’re the cure. Suguru is the moon and you’re the sun. Suguru is the believer.

And you’re the god.

You asked him about it one night. 

„Do you believe in God, Suguru?”

He said he didn’t, but he changed his mind. He does.

His god is right there, under his fingers.

You come again, moaning right into his lips when you kiss, and the way you clench around him sends him to the edge. He hides his head into the crook of your neck and twitches inside of you, warm cum covering your insides as he pants, hips desperately bucking into you. You’re barely conscious, but you wrap your arms around him and hold him as he’s trying to catch his breath. His heartbeat runs through you and it kinda feels like you’re one person. Maybe that’s exactly what you have become. 

One. 

„Are you still hungry?” 

You can feel him laughing into your skin. Suguru moves his head up and readjusts it, so he can see the bite marks on your neck a little better. Like a tattoo. Another one to your collection.

„Starving.”

masterlist ❤️

[thatsdemko]

to live, to learn, and to love - d.ricciardo

masterlist

pairings: Daniel ricciardo x athlete!reader

warnings: time jump + talks of Covid + some depression talks + some inaccuracies of Daniels career

a/n: hope this cheers everyone up xx

2018 - to live

“so what do you guys have planned this summer?” you ask. the tiny microphone clipped to your shirt is finally off for good. for the first time in a year, cameras would no longer follow your ever move, microphones would no longer hover of your head, you could go back to a normal life of training and relaxing. freedom at last.

“we are actually filming a new docuseries, ever heard of formula one?”

you shake your head, puzzle look on your face creates a little laughter from everyone’s lips as they agreed to never hearing about it until Daniel. whoever Daniel was, he seemed to be quite popular to the crew.

“I guess I haven’t, but hey I’m all about growing sports.”

“well you wouldn’t believe where we get to go next weekend— you should come! it’ll be so much fun.”

the film crew talks of Monaco and the infamous track that they’ve learned can be brutal but kind. their invitation lingers around the room for a couple more minutes as crew begins to clean up the scene.

“so? you coming or what?”

“when’s the plane leave?”

—

Monaco roars with noise you’ve never heard. so much so, the noise canceling headphones can’t even drown out the cheers for the drivers. you spend all mid-afternoon shaking hands and learning names of the drivers you’re sure you’ll forget by the night. but Daniel sticks out.

you knew right away who he was. by the laughter and his smile, he had a way with the crew that nobody on your team had. the smile on all the crew members for not only Netflix, but his own team were contagious. he had you smiling within minutes.

“congratulations on your season and Netflix series! I’ve got it downloaded for the plane ride.” he engulfs you into a tight hug for a brief second before showing you his car. the mighty Red Bull car, sleek in its red and blue stripes under the Monaco sun, his pride is contagious, you can’t help but grow confidence in his racing skills.

“how’s Monaco treating you?” you look up at him, his tan skin kissed by the sun and genetics, his beautiful brown curls make your fingers itch to run through them. it’s not only his smile that makes your stomach twirl, it’s all of him.

“just about alright, I’ve got a good spot on the grid and I’m ready to kick ass.” he claps his hands mischievously making a laugh escape your body.

“you’ll do great! I believe in you!”

you like to think your words of encouragement solidified his win in Monaco, but that would be a selfish reason. you’d like to hate Monaco for all the reasons why you left completely enamored by Daniel ricciardo.

2020 - to learn

boredom struck. your legs, mind, and rest of your body itch to train while you’re copped up in your parents house; a tragedy as nobody else lives here. you sit alone in the basement that once had become your personal gym, but now only has a treadmill that you’ve become bored of.

you huff out a sigh, looking around the room there’s not one object heavy enough for you to lift. you curse your parents for taking all the things you needed to their stupid summer home, and you curse them for not wanting to spend time with you.

loneliness was at an all time high. you’d become so exhausted of it, that talking to yourself became the only answer. it was the only thing you had left.

you moved from the big city where all your teammates stayed put. you didn’t bother to look back once restrictions were set in place, you needed to be somewhere sane, but rather that was the opposite. you were going insane.

an alert on your phone pulls you away from the five pound weights in your hand. you look down on the floor to see an Instagram notification which was awfully unusual.

danielricciardo: if I show up on a horse in Austin, would that get me laid?

yourusername: depends. who are you trying to get with?

you can’t help but laugh. you hadn’t heard from him in four years. you’d occasional check his instagram, see what he was doing, and even become friends on LinkedIn, but the boredom must’ve been at an all time high for him to message you.

danielricciardo: you.

—

“I’d kiss the chef.” he says almost immediately once your face comes up on the screen. the apron you’re wearing was to prevent spilling or messes to your clothes, it was definitely not an attractive sight. but to Daniel it was.

“you can kiss me right here.” you point to your ass, hearing his laugh erupt on the other side of the screen. it was morning time in Perth, and by morning, you meant way to fucking early in the morning for anyone but him to be awake.

“what are you making?”

“none of your business.”

“well it’s my business when you call me.” he says watching you prop up the cook book that lay beside your phone. you point to the page that had flour, sugar, and all other ingredients across the page.

“ah a birthday cake, and who’s this for?”

“my neighbor. he turns ninety tomorrow so it’s a big deal! it has to be good!”

“and you need my help why?” he reminds you of why you called. you stick out your tongue and your middle finger earning a laugh. you want more of that laughter, you’d do anything to hear it in person again.

“because what do men like? I need to get him a gift.”

“y/n, I’m thirty. I’m not even close to ninety are you insinuating I’m old?”

a blush creeps into your cheeks that’s noticeable on the screen, “I’m kidding! I get why you called, you don’t have to close off.”

in the minimal amount of time knowing Daniel, he calls you out on all of your shit. like how he knows you missed garbage day based off the way your bathroom looks, or how he judges you for not taking the chance to run faster. he’s far worse than personal trainer, but you’d keep him around for his honesty and his kindness.

“I have to go to the store early tomorrow, so what do you think he’d like?”

“you didn’t buy toilet paper again?”

“people don’t listen to the two per person rule! I swear!”

he tsks you so much you can’t even put in a single word. your nervous laughter fills his ears and warms his chest. why did you have to live thousands of miles away? he’s praying they find a cure for Covid fast, he doesn’t think he can live another second without you.

2021 - to learn

a new year, a new set of restrictions, oh and you.

you, in the silly 2021 plastic glasses, sit on the couch in the mixed of his friends and family in his Monaco home. he couldn’t believe the sight, it was a winter miracle you’d made it out alive of the winter storm to his side.

after months of talking, you’d considered yourselves dating. it was different—with not being physically intimate or even having real dates—but the attraction and energy that flowed through you two was undeniable. you couldn’t stay friends, not after every phone call, text message, and filthy instagram dm, Daniel ricciardo wove his way right into your heart.

“what’s your wish for new years?”

“wish? isn’t it a resolution?” you give him a pointed look watching his hands fly up in defense, “we do things differently here. we don’t set goals, we set wishes. so what do you wish for?”

you think long and hard for a moment staring at the man in front of you. his brown eyes full of life and beauty stare into yours. his family and friends wait patiently as you think to yourself.

“I wish for love.”

he scoffs in response almost instantly. he couldn’t help it, to wish for love felt stupid, but Daniels hand clasping against yours makes your heart flutter and skin warm to his touch, “well your wish came true, because I’m here to show you just how much I love you.”

2022 - to love

pregnant.

it’s no wonder doing mundane activities were killing you, and getting up any time before 6am was a threat to your immune system. little did you know it didn’t matter when you woke up, you’d still be pregnant and with a heavy case of morning sickness.

and while 2022 is looking awful to different from the past two years of your relationship, Daniel was changing. you’d noticed how physically unfit he was for training, and it wasn’t because he lost his touch, he looked more sick than you did.

the smile that once reached his eyes and infected a dozen or more individuals, was fading. the light in his eyes barely shined anymore, and while he should be happy his girlfriend is pregnant, the glow on his face doesn’t reflect his words.

you’d talked with zak, asked him how Daniel had been doing and to monitor his health, but little did you know the same man you trusted was the reason for his depression.

“Danny,” you whisper slightly hoping to god he doesn’t answer, but he hardly sleeps anymore.

your touch sinks his body further into the mattress. you mold your body and growing belly against him, fingers drawing all sorts of relaxing shapes, “I love you,” you whisper trying to your best to hold in the sob desperately trying to escape, “but I hate how sad you are. I miss you, I miss us.”

your sudden words ache his heart. he hears your pain, it makes him lift his hand and clasp his hand on top of yours allowing your silent sob to increase in volume, “what’s happening to you, it’s not right.“

“I know,” he whispers back. his words hang in the room for a little longer before he turns to face you, his fingers quickly wipe your tears, “I’m going to get better. for you, for us, and for her. okay?”

“okay.”

—

“can you keep a secret?”

“depends,” lando responds turning on his heel, his adorable smile turning his lips upward, “what’s my reward?”

“a kiss on the cheek?”

he nods in approval, “kiss first, secret later.” he taps his cheek, watching you roll your eyes before you quickly press your lips to his skin and pull away.

“I’m pregnant.”

“old news, what else?” he shrugs it off.

“Daniels leaving.”

“what?” you watch lando’s shoulders fall as he collapses into the chair below him, “please tell me it’s because of the baby and not anything else?”

your hesitation earns a permanent frown on his lips, “I thought I could save him.” he lets out a deep sigh allowing you wrap him into your arms, “I think it’s what’s best.”

“I agree, but you’ll still have cool uncle rights.”

“yes! oh, that’s the best news ever! I have to tell max!”

Daniels foot steps echo throughout the hallway of the private room you were in with lando. not another soul is in the McLaren hospitality, as everyone had seemed to vanish once practice rounds were over, but you’d stayed waiting despite longing for a warm shower and Daniels hands against your belly. god, how much more love sick could you be? it was evident Daniel didn’t feel much of the same right now, and you tried your best to put on a big smile and positive attitude.

“there he is.” you move over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him downward so you can press a kiss to his lips.

“I have to stay a little later.” he mumbles before pressing another kiss to your lips, “why don’t you head back with lando?”

“but I want to stay.” you frown pulling away from his body. it gives you a chance to look him in the eyes, the dark circles are much more evident, the glimmer of hope and love have seemed to vanish his eyes replaced with sadness. why did this have to happen to him? it’s just not right, you think to yourself.

“will you at least eat dinner with me?”

he shakes his head, “I really have to get back to the car.” he pushes a strand of your hair behind your shoulder, “why don’t you order room service? it’s on me, get whatever you’re craving.”

“I’m craving you, but you’re making yourself unavailable—again, might I add.”

his eyes close for a brief moment. his fingers play with the hem of his bright orange shirt, you can feel the anxiety radiating off of him. it terrifies you what’s next. “y/n, they are terminating my contract. can you just go home with lando?”

the grit of his words are like nails on a chalkboard. you swear you could feel yourself becoming lightheaded you don’t even realize lando was the one to catch you from falling backward. terminate? they were done with him? you feel a sob take over your body, it takes ten minutes for lando to calm you down, as Daniel was nowhere to be seen.

the car ride to the hotel was silent. with lando taping away on his phone, and you staring out the window in a daze there was nothing that could pull you away. well, maybe there was.

danielricciardo: if I do ridiculous side burns would you still sleep with me?

a snort escapes your lips. he knows how to turn a bad day into a good one.

yourusername: depends. how ridiculous are they?

danielricciardo: so ridiculous you might wish I didn’t get you pregnant.

yourusername: now I would never wish on that. we love you Danny.

love. it’s a strange feeling that’s settling into his chest right now as he stares at zak brown, the man he’d been warned about years ago, but he never listened. now hearing it from you, he knew love conquered all of his fears and anxiety about leaving. because in the end, your love made him feel whole again.

to live, to learn, and to love.

[BONUS SCENE]

2023 - living, learning, and loving

“oh my, you’re so big now! what are they feeding you?” lando’s gasp earns a ripple of head turns. he’s rushing his way over to you and your new born daughter, mila.

“whatever it is, it’s clearly working on you too. what’s this you’ve got going on? is it a beard?” you carefully run your fingers over the hair on his chin making him pull away, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, “fine I’ll shave it.”

“take it from me, the minute I got home from Austin I wasn’t allowed in the bed until I shaved it all off.” Daniel rubs his fingers over the stubby hairs against his cheeks, “some women don’t like that down there—“

“Daniel!” you hiss, hands placed against his chest you give him a hard shove.

the roar of his laughter echoes throughout the paddock. it brings a flock of his friends and former colleagues together surrounding you both and your daughter, mila.

she was a happy blessing out of a horrible year. her arrival was earlier than expected, but seeing Daniels smile finally reach his eyes, it was like she knew he needed that.

“I can’t decide what’s cuter, her curls or her rolls. how do you sleep at night with such a difficult question?” Charles looks between you two and watches the devilish smirk lift upon Daniels lips, “actually don’t answer that, I see where your mind is taking you.”

“it’s good to have you back.” the Ferrari driver smiles. before he walks away he says one more thing to brighten your days, “and I mean that. it’s good to have the you we all love back.”

you lived, you learned, and you’re still loving.

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13

[currentfandomkick]

Re-Making Ghost King function

Ghost King is a lot of OP!Danny and skipping other avenues to explore how that could work, so i have IdeasTM to add weight to the role and make it Worse For Ghost King or add costs to acting outside of the role.

Adding possible story ideas to each example i give, and up for grabs just tag me if you do anything :D

Ghost king is a curse and death sentence.

It drains your core and keeps you from your obsession. It is the realm’s denizens deciding ‘fuck this guy in particular’. The draining of the king’s core causes them to go insane (known problem) and the energy goes to sustaining a number of youngers and newly forming ghosts in the Ghost Nurseries.

Yes, Danny’s main area of the Ghost Zone is included in Nursery where ghosts of similar species and backgrounds intermingle with parents of neverborns, form firghts and later move deeper into realms, unless their obsession includes the living. Then they tend to gravitate to portal rich areas, and areas that spawn in their preferred time and regions of living world.

This means Danny? Is possibly going to deal with going insane if he’s crowned, especially as Pariah is around still. Realms are convening on if Danny’s a bigger threat than Pariah after defeating him. Go nuts on court and legal arguments between various ghosts. JLD may be called in by [character] to find a way to save Danny from this BS, while Danny is staging another prison break and probably forming another army on his side that he does not lead and like him enough to keep around but do not agree with him in terms of leadership. So his new friends are kidnapping him for his own good, while a trial is held over if a halfa can be given the cursed role of ghost king, and if Danny should be cursed to future madness

Go nuts on political drama, jail break fun and Danny debating if this makes him a McGuffin, and why his life is Like This

Team ups everywhere

Ghost king is the loosely diplomat between the Infinite Realms. And other realms sometimes.

Pariah decided war was the best way to get everyone to shut up and unite and maybe not make all their issues his problem for five minutes.

Danny is now expected to handle this as physically beating opponents to establish credentials is vital

Danny is shit at remembering his powers. Or how to switch between them outside his main ones…

Cue danny finding mentors to help and runs into hero of your choice for help (yes this means Batman isn’t the best to handle this, if he’s around have him shuffle Danny to another team or frequent meetings with a lot of heroes)

Feel free to unleash him onto Hero Team of Choice and make him their problem as ‘oh its me or the guy who’s main response is world domination! My mirror likes traveling and a few of my friends are activists. I dont want Conqueror McGee in charge of this stuff. I’m just here as the muscle/backup, and engineer. And space stuff. I am not the negotiator, i am the negotiator’s bodyguard.’

Danny is here to play Guard the Diplomat and act like he is not, in fact, the diplomat Legally.

Heroes? Doing their best to train danny up, likely bonding with him and his crew (tagalongs of your choice. But please let Val be there too, and calling Danny out on ‘crap tactics’ in a teasing manner.)

Ghost King is Extremely Limited in living world regardless of previous powers

Ghost Kings only have their full powers in the realms of the dead, and said powers vary by monarch and region they are present in

Yes this helps explain Danny’s weekly new powers if we include Clocky as a previous king who saw Dan become king and thought early intervention on powers might prevent Dan. Did not work as intended.

In the living realm danny acts more as a medium and can answer questions about the dead, but cannot use his powers anywhere but Amity as Amity is a Veil City (city that exists in both the IR and Living Realm) but is anchored more on living side… outside of the city wandering about as it pleases

Danny is mostly human in human word besides having an encyclopedic knowledge about the dead, burial sites, which death realm one resides in or returned from, ect.,

In the infinite Realms he is eldritch though. As a treat.

Danny is not able to be summoned unless he’s in the infinite realms. Pariah is the backup summon though. And he’s bitchy about it.

High crack, comedy and angst potential

Summons can be anyone, and danny is Done with Cultists and makes a point to tell them to fuck off with the power crap. He will take questions about the dead, and only if he gets a burger shake.

As King Phantom he’s basically a Glorified Realms Secretary in his opinion. He makes Pariah the King when he wants to be bitchy to people, and vice versa.

No rule against Pariah and Danny in a weird joint custody of the title as ‘i beat you, i won’ vs ‘you only meet the credentials half the time. We work in shifts’

Ghost King with Serious Limitations the way most monarchs have.

King Phantom cannot help you with… finding your missing friend. Danny Fenton can.

Fenton gets no access to his powers when going against what Phantom is allowed to do. Including his healing factor!

Much whump and angst potential

So many scenarios to put this in, especially if you have another person pissed at danny for not doing more with his own powers and get reality checked with danny seriously injured for Not Following the Ghost King Restrictions

Fenton making tech to help where he cant is highly applicable

I say engineer Danny working with Hero Of Choice as Gadget Guy and finding out powers afterwards and former hero status could be fun too!

And there’s all i got ATM, if anyone has other ideas to make Ghost King less OP or have other angles, let me know so we can circulate other ways this can work.

Tag whoever may be interested or have other ideas to rework the ghost king concept

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

once a friend made me sit on his shoulders and carried me around, i got so shy when i realized there were some people staring at my thighs (they are already big when i sit down they get bigger, it was practically impossible to see my friend's head 🥸 ) could you do some twst boys reacting to this situation?

(I hope that didn't sound weird, I just like to see horny messed up boys)

Don't we all 😏

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Sitting On Their Shoulders | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Ft. Floyd Leech, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, Trey Clover

Floyd Leech

If you’ve read about Floyd on my blog its practically my own cannon that he absolutely loves it

Your weight, your thighs, the warmth of your privates at the back of his head

He loves to squeeze people and no doubt probably likes to get squeezed himself

While he typically sees being squeezed as an activity for fun its also a kind of love-language

Especially with you

So much as touching him skyrockets his mood and has him smothering you in his affection

No doubt is drooling when you squeeze around his head

He gets off to to his weak mate attempting to compete with him 

Even if that's not what your doing

He’s so close to your intimates its like he’s getting a taste before he gets the real thing

He’s not exactly sly enough to trick you so he’ll instead put you in situations where you owe him a favor

“Ne~Shrimpy you owe me! Five minutes and your not allowed to stop squeezing!”

Anyone who gets in the way will be squeezed into oblivion

He will not tolerate anyone interrupting in his (Y/n)-time

Interfering is like directly challenging an eel trying to mate

Showing that they are a rival: 

Someone who’s getting put 40ft deep into the Coral Sea if they don’t stop

“Hehe your just askin’ for me to squeeze ya into an early grave!”

Jack Howl

Blushy and trying to keep calm 

He no doubt offers his tall stature to help you fix something high up in Ramshackle

Because for some reason…some Savanna Claw students are borrowing the only ladder you were provided…

Anyway Jack is there to help

As the good friend he is 

He doesn’t mean to enjoy this so much

But your weight on his shoulders makes him proud

But the rubbing of your…against his head is driving him insane

He wants to tell you he really does

“Mmmm”

“Is there something wrong Jack? Am I too heavy?”

“No! You are perfectI mean I worry that you may be slipping…perhaps squeeze a bit tighter?”

He knows it probably isn’t right that his tail wags so intensely when all he can smell is you

But he just can’t help it!

After all he couldn’t in good conscience let anyone take this task

After all they’d take advantage of you

“If you ever need uhm a ladder again, I’d be there.”

Epel Felmier

A real man can carry anything (so they say)

So of course he’d jump at the opportunity to hold you up

All the better if your squeezing him tight

Go ahead

Go tighter

He can handle 

Don’t think he can? 

he’s squeezing your thighs tighter around his face

“Keep going (Y/n)! D’ya think I’m weak?! Try me!”

Not struggling by your weight he’s overheating out of overexcitement

To be so close to you

To be able to feel you 

He can easily rub his exfoliated cheeks against your plush skin

And he’s living the dream

“Hah~your really–hah~ really warm. It’s fine no worries.” 

Trey Clover

He’s a brother first and foremost

So he’s done this many a time before 

But the very action of feeling you grind upon the back of his head

And the heated warmth of your thighs on his ears

“Oh…whoa…this is…nice.”

He’s transcended into an experience of intimacy he’s never gotten

…from his other ventures

He may not let you down 

Claiming to have gotten carried away, lost in thought as he returns to playfully toss you on his bed

“Let’s do this properly (Y/n). You shouldn’t be teasing anyone but me. And even if you are…I can only stay calm for so long.”

[writing-until-i-drop]

The Devil Doc & The Flyboy | Sneak Peek

Hangman x Marine Corpsman-Devil Doc!OC

Every time Fiona "Kitten" Reid is deployed, something bad happens. Win-a-medal type bad. And when Warlock is looking for a survivalist instructor for the Daggers during the uranium mission, he's shocked that the top recommendation from his colleagues is a young medical corpsman the Marines she served with dubbed "Kitten." After making a grand entrance at the expense of Jake's older brother and Bob's sanity, Fiona finds herself squarely in Hangman's sights. But he better pay attention in class because her lessons come from more than a textbook...

“Corpsman Reid, at ease.” The Rear Admiral better known as Warlock motioned for her to take a seat. It was the first time that morning she was happy to be in uniform, she would have felt naked in scrubs. 

“Sir,” She dug her short nails into her palm under the table, keeping her composure even as her pulse skyrocketed. You’re a marine, she chided herself, get a damn grip. She felt like the kid she had been before her first deployment with a marine detachment. A timid, little midwestern girl who didn’t drink or curse. The rough necks had had a fun time breaking her in. 

They jokingly called her Kitten. As in a scared little kitten afraid of her own shadow. Then the worst had happened and they’d discovered that the kitten had claws. That’s when she became one of them, a marine. She felt the ghostly weight of two hands on her shoulders and sat a little straighter, meeting the Vice Admiral’s gaze head-on.

“I read your file, corpsman but your ribbon rack tells one hell of a story on its own.”

“Oorah, sir.”

“Two Purple Hearts, three bronze stars with combat valor, if you weren’t a corpsman you’d be well on your way to admiralty and a senate seat.” She must not have done a good job at disguising her disgust at being part of the brass, Warlock’s laughter filling the room.

“I asked for a shortlist of men for a special assignment and imagine my surprise when the first recommendation from a general was someone named Kitten.” Aw fuck. 

Fiona’s smile couldn’t be helped. General Matteo Alverez. He had visited her detachment in Iraq for a dog and pony show and when things went south, as they always seemed to do when she was involved, he’d seen Fiona in action, running towards danger with a stethoscope around her neck.

“Am I going brown side out again, sir?” She could already feel the sand in her boots from another desert deployment. “Give the word.” She wanted him to give it to her straight. As much as she wanted to stay, she would always go if the Navy asked her to.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the scuttlebutt about a classified flight mission,” Warlock raised a white brow, knowing nothing classified stayed fully secret in a town like North Island. She nodded. “Enemy territory is a rough place to be,” Rough was putting it lightly in her experience and opinion. “I want you to prepare them, teach them how to survive. No manual, no guidelines, your experience will be their gospel.”’ That was…insane. She wasn’t an instructor. She would run towards live fire, snap a man’s neck, and put her phone on the bar when Penny wasn’t looking. She was used to doing dangerous and ill-advised things. But teach?

“Sir, I-”

“Before you respond, the General said to remind you that a true marine never runs from a fight.” Fiona sighed,

“Aye aye, sir. Just don’t give me a big chicken dinner when I kill your flyboys’ egos.” Warlock laughed, spilling coffee on his pristine uniform.

“If you can do that, I’ll give you another damn medal for doing the impossible.” 

Big chicken dinner = Bad conduct discharge

Scuttlebutt = gossip

Can't wait for more? Let me know, I'll add you to the taglist.

Fiona and Jake's story is going to have mentions of combat, war, torture (nothing too graphic), too many Navy/Marine inaccuracies to count (I'm doing a lot of research though), plenty of good times at the Hard Deck, Warlock being an enabler, and Jake being the next in a long line of Top Gun students to be hot for teacher.

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #11)

FEB11: First "I Love You"

You and John fell into a sort of routine. You slept at yours, or sometimes his. You shared his bathroom, and cooked in his kitchen. It was like your two apartments had become one home, and you were juggling the space, trying to figure out how to make it work. 

You were just finishing up with dinner, cleaning your plates and putting them away, and he was helping you dry. He nodded to the den,

“You wanna watch your show? That one with Attenborough that you like to fall asleep to?”

He was talking about your recent obsession with the Planet Earth docu-series. It was so relaxing, listening to David Attenborough talking about birds and bats and God-knows-what. You had been on a bit of a tear with it lately, keeping it on in the background while you worked. 

“Yeah,” you smiled, “Sorry I’ve been so obsessed.”

“I just like it when you doze off on me, love. Makes me feel…” he shrugged, looking for the words and coming up short, “I dunno. Makes me feel good to take care of you.”

You knew what he meant. Falling asleep in John’s arms on his big, warm sofa was strangely hypnotic. It made you feel relaxed and safe and… more than a little horny. It had led to a bit of fooling around once or twice. Moving from bedroom to bedroom had been fun, but there was something liminal about the couch. No man’s land. 

After all the dishes were squared away, you grabbed the blanket and curled up with him, nesting into your favorite spot. The television was set to a low volume, and as you watched, you felt John’s hands begin to wander. He was rubbing your bare thigh. You were barely dressed, having spent all day doing chores, wearing his big tee shirt like a gown, letting the soft fabric hide your curves, but it was doing little covering now that you were seated. It had hitched up to your hips, pulled tight around your thick ass cheeks, showing off almost all of your leg to him. 

You could see his hand moving under the blanket, tracing little circles up your thigh until he got closer and closer to your warm center. The documentary was playing softly in the background, but you couldn’t concentrate on anything except his deft fingers. His hand ventured higher and higher, traveling as slowly and gently as it could, until it reached its destination. 

It was as if his goal was just to pleasure you, but he wasn’t looking to make you come from his ministrations, necessarily. He touched you almost languidly, driving you to the point of near insanity, writhing against him and mewling like a wounded animal. 

“Bloody hell, love. Those sounds you make…” he purred under his breath, trying not to talk over the television, “Drives me mad.”

“Please, John…” All you had to do was ask, and he was your devoted servant, refocusing his attentions to draw you up over your peak. 

You clutched at his chest, holding onto him for dear life as he made you fall apart. He put his forehead on yours, keeping his eyes closed, whispering to you with a deep hunger in his voice,

“Tha’s it, pretty girl. Just relax. God, I love…”

He stopped himself, but you both heard his confession. You could see him trying to backtrack, his eyes still closed but squeezed tight now, trying his best to cover up his sudden admission. 

“John,” you said, and he looked straight at you, obviously still worried. But, you assuaged his fears, “I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you, too,” he looked as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and he kissed you deeply, pulling you in to his body, making you feel as if you were one living, breathing being; like you’d never be apart.  

You didn’t make it to the bed, but the couch suited you both just fine.

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

[reverseexorcist]

Hi! How are you? Can you write some enemies to lovers with Lute if you feel comfortable with that? Like reader is a overlord who likes to fight every extermination day just for fun and Lute sees a worthy rival until they fall in love?

❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐧 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ❥

Oh wow I love her such a normal amount like seriously you could ask me anything about her and I would be the most normal person ever about her. But something about enemies to lover Lute with a sinner reader just hits different-

Someone here was having way more fun with the enemies to lovers aspect of this (and it's not Lute.)

(I am sorry I took so long with this request, but it was just so long and I'm juggling multiple blogs, interests and school-work rn so I'm just happy to get this one out. Thank you for being so patient <3)

➲ Lute + !F!Overlord!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 4,532 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Descriptions of gore, descriptions of body shifting/horror, tsundere Lute, lots of fighting between two idiots who are actually trying to murder each other

Three hours before extermination day. Three hours before the exorcists would descend from Heaven like a plaguing swarm to rid Hell of as many demons as they possibly could. Three hours before you could go dance with death like you usually did and scare the living shit out of winners and sinners alike with your almost insane mannerisms.

Because that's what you did for fun, apparently.

However, unlike the countless times before you'd done this, you were feeling just a little tired. Staying up late to binge the new episode of 'MAMMON'S MAGNIFICENT MUSICAL MID-SEASON SPECIAL' mightn've been the best idea you'd ever had, but it was one hundred percent worth it even as you stood proudly, staring up at the pearly gates of Heaven. From where you stood, they still looked rather bare, and so you didn't think a quick nap beforehand would be all that bad, right?

At least, that was the plan. Just a quick nap before the extermination to get your head in the game - Except you'd forgotten to put a damn alarm on and slept right through the beginning ceremony. As the holy trumpets and guitar riffs echoed throughout the scorching pit of eternal suffering, you were snoozing away peacefully in your Evil Overlord Tower™.

Or, at least, you were.

Something didn't feel right, which was odd, because you had one of the most comfortable beds in all of Hell courtesy of the instinctual fear you spread throughout the ring of pride. And when something wasn't right, you sought to make it right because you didn't deal with shit that annoyed you (such, through the power you held).

A light weight rested across you, evenly spread expertly as if whoever was standing above you was trying not to rouse you from your slumber. For a moment, you thought you'd imagined it. There was no movement from above you, and there was a split second where you considered just letting your mind relax and fall asleep again, but such thoughts didn't get you into your current status. Being an overlord meant destruction and paranoia, the two things you strove to embody.

You barely gave whoever was on top of you time to react, moving swiftly enough that for a split second, your entire body shimmered and turned invisible as you slammed your would-be attacker into the floor.

Your hands fumbled, grappling with a sleek, steel pole that you promptly threw outwards, topping the attacker in front of you over. The room around you shook violently, the lights flickering as your brain caught up with your body, trying its hardest to shake the dregs of unconsciousness from your mind.

Bold stripes stared back at you, a sleek mask emblazoned with threads of angelic steel. The sight jogged your still sleep-hazy brain.

'Oh yeah, extermination day' and you gleefully took a swipe at the exterminator in front of you. You'd just fix the damages later.

But she was fast, swift on her wings and on her feet as she ducked and rolled out of the way. You could see she was stumbling, still recovering from the shock of being thrown halfway across the room. But you could still clearly see that she wielded her weapon with pure fury and raw talent, which was certainly something you weren't used to. Other exorcists relied on the fact that normal demons couldn't hurt them, their fighting sloppy and trivial because of it. The one in front of you actually knew what she was doing.

"You're kinda rude, y'know," Rolling your shoulders, a part of you was miffed for being woken up so rudely. Another part of you was grateful for the wake-up call.

She laughed, deep and sharp. The sound made your heart flutter.

"Demon scum like you don't deserve niceties," Her grin grew, sharp edges stretching upwards. You hummed thoughtfully and shrugged your shoulders.

The exorcist charged forward, striking forward with precision startlingly quickly. But you were quicker - Ducking under the point of her spear and tackling her, grappling with her wings as the two of you rolled across the floor in a writhing mass of fury. Holy steel clashing against the might of an overlord. Deep grooves were carved in your floor, yet, as the exorcist managed to tuck her head and roll with the momentum till she was on her feet in one elegant swoop, you couldn't find yourself caring. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, and you almost laughed as she stabbed at you with her spear once more. You parried it almost expertly, cackling before you managed to grab the pole between your palms.

It almost seemed evenly matched between the two of you, an unstoppable force fighting against an immovable object. The poor spear quivered, bending as you both quarrelled over it like young children until it splintered roughly between your palms, crushed beneath the sheer force you exerted. That seemed to get the exorcist's attention.

She stumbled backwards, no doubt thoroughly pissed off at her now shortened weapon - But even that didn't deter the bloodlust in her step. Half of it was thrown away, the broken half that held no pointed end, and chucked it at your face. It missed, and instead, it rattled ominously somewhere behind you in time with the flickering lights, but with your attention split for just a breath, the exorcist lunged forward and scraped a shallow wound in your forearm. It stung, numbly, and the wisk of air as she jumped warned you belatedly. Crimson trickled tantalisingly down your arm as the air between you sizzled, thick and heavy with some undeterminate feeling that made your blood thrum with electricity.

You cackled, grin growing to match the angel's, jaw splitting further than it probably should've as your bones cracked seamlessly, form growing larger as you felt the power of endless stolen souls burning your flesh. Your head brushed against the ceiling, bending to fit in the limited space - You could only relish in the confusion and fear that rolled over the exorcist's face, quickly masked with the solemn, set expression of a battle-seasoned soldier.

However stoic she seemed, you saw your opening and rocketed forward with speed that seemed unsightly for how big you were, pulling yourself against the floor like the demon you were. With the force of a semi-truck, you slammed the exorcist into the wall, fracturing the framework and no doubt rattling her entire being to her very core. You could feel the point of her spear pressed faintly against your chest, a gentle reminder that you quickly snagged and tossed the item far across the room. 

Face to face, almost nose to nose. A twisted scarl danced across her face, pearly white fangs stained with spatters of golden blood. It was almost beautiful with how it shimmered in the darkness, like liquid stardust.

"You better fucking kill me, hell-spawn," She spat in your face, fingernails carving angry crescents in your skin.

You laughed, because her words were rather cliche, after all.

"Y'know," You mused, "maybe knowing I'm down here will make you try harder next time."

That did not ease her scowl, but that didn't really bother you, because you had other places to be right now - You weren't going to waste your entire extermination day on one singular angel after all.

You threw her out of the nearest window.

She would be fine, with her wings and all, but it was still funny watching the momentary panic spread across her face before she realised the same thing you did.

Furiously, she flared out her banded wings, scattering loose a flurry of black and white feathers, specks of gold blood arcing in the crimson sky around her. Dazed as she was, her fierce eyes flickered and spun before honing in on her mobile target, namely, you. A titan of the underworld, an overlord in hell - An ear-piercing, spine-chilling cackle echoing around the eastern side of the Pentagram as you pulled yourself from your tower, monstrous figure all too elegant for how big you were, hauntingly so.

And that just made her blood boil, to see a sinner escape her clutches and laugh like nothing was wrong - Or worse, to laugh and knock down her subordinates straight from the sky like they were nothing more than bugs. As little as she cared about the fledglings on their first escapades, that was her hard work going to waste because the littles had no idea how to use their wings. 

And that just pissed her off all that much more.

The little exorcist you'd hucked from the top floor window was the furthest from your mind as your galavant around hell started again. She was a little spitfire, but nothing you hadn't ground into the dirt before and gotten away with. Even the array of cuts and slashes littering your body, courtesy of her spear, didn't mean anything beyond a harsh sting that would be gone within the next month. Yet nothing she did was permanent, which is why you didn't exactly pay attention to the screeching war cry of rage followed by a sharp twinge between your shoulder blades.

Which irked you, but not that much. You twisted your neck in an unnatural manner, bones creaking as your form bent in on itself, teeth fastening around the stab-happy angel's wing before wrenching her away from you. The machete she'd snagged from elsewhere remained buried just beneath your shoulder, you absentmindedly reminded yourself to remember it after this whole ordeal was over. Angelic steel was no good when left to fester in an open wound.

It could've been the same angel, probably was for all you knew. All their stripes looked the same, and plenty had horns curved back like hers (you had a collection of similar exorcist helmets lining your basement, and you still struggled to tell them apart when not labelled.)

But it was those eyes - They were different, or her mask was at least. You'd never seen obsidian glass carved with an 'x' like that marked over an eye, but there was something about it that was so alluring. It was shiny, unique, and belonged to an especially bloodthirsty angel, and you had what was probably the perfect spot to display it back in your den.

Greed made you strike out, grabbing at her helmet and tussling with the exorcist as the two of you fell to the ground. You may have had the size advantage, much, much larger than the lean figure writhing beneath you, but she was still incredibly strong. Her wings were annoying too, beating and kicking up dust that made your eyes water and ache, battering against your face and drawing a headache up, thrumming against the back of your skull. But you wanted that helmet more than anything, and she seemed extremely determined to keep it on.

The force of it all sent a splintering crack through the surface, shining a brilliant bright white like the threads of angelic steel melted and spilled like blood as one horn snapped clean off beneath your palm.

Those eyes.

They almost made you falter, as gold as angel blood. They were beautiful.

The exorcist, however, was not as thrilled.

She snarled, whipped her head around and sunk her teeth into whatever of your flesh she could reach.

It was more like a hell-kitten nipping at your skin, but you still flinched and let her go, watching as she slumped, cradling a crooked wing. A swelling of a certain emotion welled in your gut, something that made you feel small and achy and you absolutely hated it, but you couldn't do anything. Or, more aptly, you didn't want to do anything as you merely watched the exorcist flare her wings out, still beating strongly despite the fact one of them surely was broken.

The trumpets sounded. She made a rude gesture (many rude gestures, actually) before she grabbed the discarded weapon and the broken curve of her horn before disappearing back into the flock.

It was almost creepy, with the way your eyes watched her without blinking.

"You-"

"You!"

It was that time of year already.

The puffed-up exorcist looked angry, but no more than the last few times you'd seen her. You'd come to associate her venomous scowl, sharp wings and pointed spear as a sort've unique welcome between the two of you, in the same manner that your oversized overlord form bent out of proportion was a gratuity you reserved for your exorcist and your exorcist alone.

Because it was fun, and something you two did together.

"I want to try something," You mused out loud. The angel in front of you didn't respond to your remark, circling you like a severely ticked-off lion. You didn't expect her to, intently watching her as your neck kept twisting and twisting, bending like an owl.

Even with every muscle in her body tensed, she still wasn't prepared for how fast your strikes were. One and two, sharp against her chest as your hulking silhouette snapped and quashed itself into a far more humanoid one, the exorcist's favourite blade now held loosely between your hands. As if it would make her feel better, you kicked a machete, similar to the one she used in your first fight, toward her. Coated in crimson blood of sinners, yet still undoubtedly sharp.

"Here, now it's more of an even fight," You shrugged your shoulders, stancing up.

She scoffed.

"Is that really the best you can do?" She sneered, tapping her foot and folding her wings back high and proud. You quirked your eyebrow.

"Huh?" Your head tilted just a bit too far to be considered 'cute' or 'puppyish'. The exorcist grumbled.

"Your form. It's shit," She motioned with the tip of her blade. "Tuck your arms in, for fucks sake. No wonder your swings are so sloppy."

For once, you seem flustered and tried your hardest to follow her instructions. Heat swelled in her chest, almost like pride. But she would never be proud of someone like you.

"And speaking of, adjust your grip. Move your dominant hand up and your non-dominant hand down - For the love of anything holy, how can you be so shit with the bare basics!"

"Okay! Sorry!" You shifted your weight and tried to do as she told, almost forgetting where exactly you were. The exorcist only felt her grin grow more sadistic, watching how small you suddenly seemed in front of her, and how pathetic you were at actually using a weapon like a somewhat normal person.

It was sad.

(It reminded her of her bright-eyed, curious fledgling classes. All of them eager to learn about how to serve the lord above.)

"Like this?" You question, insane eyes almost reflecting the same eagerness of her students.

It was all wrong, but that was what she wanted.

"Ha. No."

This time she was the one covering the distance between you two with frightening speed, flinging herself forward with the momentum from her wings. The noise you made plucked at her heart, that startled screech clashing with the harsh sound of metal as you brought her own weapon up against her.

It was a brief moment of weakness, one quickly lost as you found your footing and started swinging. For how amateur your swings were, they were more than halfway decent compared to the littles fighting closer to the portal into Heaven. She could work with this, make it feel like you were actually a challenge instead of just another run-of-the-mill sinner.

She could see the way your eyes were glowing, looking all too content with yourself as you somehow matched her footwork and swordsmanship. You were a bit all over the place, but you were also incredibly smart - Picking up on her unique fighting style that not one other exorcist had, and you were doing it fast. Puffing up, almost preening.

"Aha! Now for some witty back-and-forth banter!" You declared out of nowhere, swings much more confident. She narrowed her eyes, infuriated. Just when she thought you were starting to take this whole thing seriously.

The exorcist remained eerily silent, not even puffs of exhausted breath or grunts with each collision of the blades.

"Huh, yeah, not really sure where to go with that?" You shrugged with the brief lull in fighting, darting backwards and sheathing your weapon with just a tad too much confidence for her taste.

Which, every part of this felt like a trap, but she trusted her own skills enough to not fall prey to the like of a sinner. Expertly, more than expertly, she matched those steps as you fell back, advancing, wings arced out as eyes aglow with holy fire.

Only for you to, once again, take her off-guard with your usual tactic. Darting forward, ducking under her blade and kicking her feet out from underneath her. She didn't make a sound but refused to go down with a fight and grabbed at the back of your outfit.

Her vision briefly went dark, the impact of something heavy crashing against her torso and knocking the wind right out of her. Her helmet cracked again, which was par for the course ever since she started brawling with you every extermination.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," Through the new crack in her helmet, she could almost perfectly make out your face. A bit too perfect, and way too close. Close enough to see her pale reflection in the dark of your eyes.

Your, admittedly, pretty eyes.

She felt like carving her own heart out rather than admitting she'd ever thought that in the first place.

"Get. Off. Me." She snarled. Meanwhile, stars practically glowed in your eyes.

"Oh wow! Dropping the 'Hellspawn' and 'Demon-scum'? Could this be love?" You were clearly joking, but her own heart decided to betray her thoughts, flipping in graceful arcs that she'd seen you perform one too many times.

She bit you again.

Five hours.

It had been five hours into the extermination.

With a ranking tally of two hundred and fifty or so demons, the exorcist figured she was fine to have a quick look around.

Because, through all this time, she'd seen neither hide nor hair of you. She didn't want to admit that she'd been loitering around your tower, knowing your tendency to throw yourself into the fray, dancing like you were tempting a lightning storm. She didn't want to admit that she'd been expecting to see your annoying face peering out at her from a nearby rooftop or to descend upon her like a leaping cat, or even to stroll up and start talking to her like the two of you were old friends. None of that happened.

The streets were rather empty, if you didn't take into account the blazing wrecks of cars, broken corpses and puddles of crimson blood puddling around the divets in sulphur roads. There were no moving, 'living' souls scurrying around, and that was what worried her.

Or, no. Not worried. She wasn't at all worried at the thought of you gutted somewhere, dying in a pool of your own blood, banished to the forever void that came after a second death. No, she was pissed at the thought that someone else had managed to kill you after all those years of the same cat-and-mouse dance. Or, more aptly, cat and fox dance. That honour was rightly hers, and she'd smite down any other exorcist that dared to stand in her way.

 In her way of killing you. Yes.

The exorcist pinned back her wings, sheathing her weapon and scuffing her boot against brimstone in annoyance. This was bullshit.

There was no fun in the exterminations without your jeering taunts, or odd remarks, your instance of fighting absolutely everyone you saw. Along with the annoyance of you ditching her mid-battle to rip feathers from one of her cohorts, along with a certain warmth she felt when you came bounding back towards her, bloodlust in your eyes and that same weapon you'd stolen from her all those years back pointed directly at her.

The angel only stopped once her boot stepped in liquid gold. It rippled, her thoughtful reflection mirrored and shimmering on its surface. Amber ichor, melding into the red from a nearby puddle, the mingling of sinner and winner blood alike.

What was the chance? She reasoned. But only one demon so far had managed to draw blood from an exorcist.

With a set snarl, she followed the trail. Her bootsteps were the only sound ricocheting around the dinky alley she found herself tracing.

"Oh, it's you..." She almost jumped out of her boots at the sound of your voice. Although, it didn't sound like you, per se. It was croaky and weak, dull and mild-mannered to put it lightly.

You were resting against a brick wall, clutching your front, eyes dimmed in the bright light. Squinting, as if a headache was plaguing your every thought.

Beside you, one of her cohorts rested too. Not dead, but her mask was all but shattered, one of her wings horribly ripped. She wasn't sure if she'd ever fly properly again.

But, you were not dead! Which was good news, because it meant she would be the one to finally slit your throat and watch the light drain from your eyes. And you knew it too, with the way your head kept tilted in her direction, a thoughtful twinkle in your eye.

"So, how's your day been?" Still playful, still joking. It was definitely you.

She scoffed.

"How's the blood loss?" She quipped back, the first she'd ever done so. Properly, at least. You laughed wetly, gagging on your own blood. Even she couldn't help but chuckle, dragging the tip of her weapon up until it rested gently over your heart.

Your laughter died down. Her hand was shaking.

Everything around you was quiet, like the two of you were submerged in a solid bubble of silence. Your ragged breathing was the only sound above a whisper, wet and ragged.

"Can I see your face?" Your voice was as soft as she'd ever heard it. Genuine.

She hummed, quirking a single brow. Not that you could see, because of her helm.

"Why would I do that?" She'd meant for it to sound more venomous. It didn't. You tried your hardest to shrug your shoulders, wincing in pain.

"Well," You sucked in a pained breath, "if I have to die here, the last thing I'd like to see is your face." Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, smudging the whorls of gold and red blood alike as they dribbled down your cheeks.

Something within her snapped. Dead. Death. A future forever without you. If she'd thought today's extermination had been boring without you, she couldn't even imagine any more.

That's what she told herself, anyway. A future without you was not one she wanted to live, for any reason.

The clank of angelic steel broke the atmosphere, harsh against the bloody floor. Fingers fuzzy and numbed, clasping as the latches that kept her exorcist helmet together. One flick, then another, a sharp snap. Dark obsidian peeled away, horns lifted till a silver-sharp face so out of place in the depths of hell appeared.

"I was right," You croaked. "You are... Pretty woman."

You devolved into another flurry of hacking coughs. The angel felt her feathers flare up, alarmed.

"Yeah, yeah," You waved her off, "don't show weakness or whatever, thanks lieutenant." Your chest crackled painfully as you just regained some unneeded breaths. The angel in front of you stumbled, anxiously padding forward as her boots clacked against the ground.

"Look, I can die happy now. Was fun fighting against you - Really fun, actually. And look! You finally came out on top this time, eh?" You tried to wink, you really did. It just didn't have the same effect when you were bleeding out in front of her. Which made her stomach drop and her adrenaline spike.

'This goes against everything I've ever done' She squinted, furrowing her brow. Gold eyes almost glowed like hot iron, fingers clasped firmly against the hem of her outfit. 'But, y'know, I could always say I was just trying to save my flockmate.'

And she tugged.

Her shirt ripped, the sound harsh against your ears, but it left her with a hefty chunk of fabric that slid against her chainmail gloves. The Lord would smite her down if he ever found out about this, but chances are, in the belly of hell, it would be a secret between only the two of you.

Hours ticked onwards, slipping through her fingers far too quickly. She was just lucky you were as strong as you were, holding on to your consciousness with all your might as she worked her magic. Stuff the wound, stop the bleeding, heal and hope to everything that was holy that angelic magic didn't sear your flesh the same way their steel did.

Of course, you being you, airy quips were thrown around, keeping the air light as your wound slowly healed. It was nasty, there was no doubt about that, your first permanent scar. But at least this way, you'd make it out with your life.

"How did you even let her catch you off guard?" She questioned you after hours of silence.

"I'll be honest, I thought she was you based on her footsteps," You sighed, exhaling softly as she tugged at your makeshift bandages. You got no proper response outside of her light scoff. Somehow, that still made you burn hot with shame.

In perfect unison, the two of you looked out to the horizon. Golden light spilled down from heaven, the portal slowly growing more and more, ripping open a way back to their holy home. Six minutes till the trumpets would sound, if you had to guess. The angel tutted, disapproving of the way time worked. The thought was enough to make you crack a smile.

"I have to go," She seemed hesitant.

"I'll be fine," Even if hoisting yourself to your feet almost made you black out, lugging yourself back to your tower shouldn't have been a big problem when you could literally see one of the back entrances.

That didn't ease her thoughts. She was thinking, mind ticking away as she thought and thought and thought. She kept thinking, until she slowly reached up and snagged a rounded, down-fluff feather from her puffed-up shoulder. Pristine and warm to the touch, it washed away the blood as she carefully placed it into your shaking palm.

No words were shared between you as she rested you against the wall, letting you steady yourself and she hoisted her fellow exorcist onto her shoulders. After helping her shimmy back into her iconic helmet, she glanced backwards at you before stepping toward the light.

"You better not die before I can kill you." Her words were soft, unlike her sharp exterior. You could only match the assumed small, hidden smile. With a hum, you felt only a single name come to mind.

"Yeah, course I won't Lute."

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[justagalwhowrites]

New in Town - Ch. 9: Second New Year

Ringing in the New Year after you and Joel's first year together. The last chapter of New in Town, found in its entirety on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Smut :D. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 6.3k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter

“Sarah, if you don’t stop fucking with that it’s never going to stay,” you said, glaring at her in the mirror as you drew on eyeliner. 

“It’s driving me insane,” she groaned, leaning so close to the hotel bathroom mirror that she was fogging it with her breath, adjusting the false eyelashes for what had to be the millionth time. 

“Yeah, because you keep fucking with them,” you said. “You have to give yourself time to adjust to them. Or just take them off because I’m not spending half the night fixing them for you, drawing the line in the sand now.” 

“You are absolutely no fun,” she said but she smiled all the same. “It’s New Year’s Eve, I want to look extra good. Plus Nick thinks the long lashes are hot and I am ready for hotel room sex.” 

“I didn’t hear that,” Maria called from the bedroom where she was putting on her dress. 

“Hotel room sex, hotel room sex, hotel room sex!” Sarah called back. 

You laughed, picking up your mascara. 

“I don’t think it works like Beetlejuice where you say it enough times it just shows up.”

Sarah laughed back. 

“Fuck I hope not,” she said. “Really don’t want to manifest hotel room sex in front of my aunt and my mom.” 

She said the last word with a drawn out teasing edge and you had to pull the mascara wand away from your face so you didn’t end up with makeup in your eye from laughing so hard. 

“Swear to God if you don’t stop calling me that I will marry your dad just to spite you,” you said once you calmed down again. 

“You’re basically already married anyway,” Sarah said. “For the record, I would be fine with it.” 

You paused for a second, putting more mascara on the wand and looking at her in the mirror. 

“Yeah?” You asked. 

“Yeah,” she smiled at you in her reflection. “But don’t expect Mother’s Day gifts from me if it ever happens.” 

You snorted, returning to your makeup. 

“Better get a bouquet, box of chocolates, the whole nine for holding your hair when you get drunk.” 

You couldn’t believe it was already New Year’s Eve again. The last year had gone by so fast it didn’t seem like it could have contained quite as much as it did. But you’d spent almost the entire time so blissfully happy that it made sense that the time felt so damn short. 

Things with Joel had been going so well before Sarah found out that it was hard to believe it could really get better, but it did. Not feeling like you were hiding from the most important person in both your lives was like losing a weight you didn’t even know you were carrying. Neither of you were dancing around talking about how you were spending your time now, not being careful about what pictures you sent her and not having to just pretend like a huge part of your life didn’t exist when talking with her. 

When she went back to Seattle after Thanksgiving, the three of you started having weekly FaceTime calls, you and Joel sometimes on your couch or at his kitchen table or even in a hotel room in New Orleans once when you decided to get away for your first trip together as a couple. 

That Christmas had been the best you’d ever had. Not that there was much competition but Joel and Sarah both had completely brought you into all their holiday traditions. The driving around to look at Christmas lights with a thermos of hot cocoa, the annual trip to Mi Tierra in San Antonio so you could properly appreciate the Christmas lights that apparently were up year round. When Sarah came back to town a few days before Christmas, she dragged you and Joel to the mall and made the three of you take a picture with Santa. You got some funny looks in line - three full blown adults with nary a kid in sight - but Sarah whispered something to woman getting ready to take the picture and she smiled and nodded, helping the three of you get arranged for the photo. You sat lightly on one of Santa’s knees, Sarah on the other, Joel leaning against the side of the large chair. Joel insisted on getting the actual printed photo and, when you picked it up, they also handed you a candy cane and a small Santa figurine. You frowned at it for a second.

“First Santa visits should be commemorated,” the woman behind the counter smiled. “Merry Christmas!” 

You looked at Sarah for a second, worried you might cry and she smiled. 

“You have a Christmas decoration now,” she said. “But if you really don’t want it at your place, we can add it to the Christmas village at Dad’s!” 

You just hugged her and she laughed, hugging you back. 

That Christmas, the figurine and the picture sat on the book shelf in your living room, right where you could see them from your couch. The perfect image of the kind of life you’d always wanted to have, one that was filled with people who loved you. 

This year, the figurine and picture were at Joel’s because you were, too. 

Your lease was up in the fall and, by that point, the two of you were having a hard time remembering the last time you’d slept apart. You were wondering how to broach the subject with Joel - did you just ask if you could move into his house? Was not quite a year of knowing each other too soon? Did you just find a new apartment and never mention it? - when he brought it up one night over dinner. 

“Your lease is comin’ up soon, right?” He asked and you froze for a second, a bite of enchilada on your fork half way to your mouth. 

“Yeah,” you said when you remembered how to move and respond again. “Six weeks I think? They want me to decide whether or not I’m staying within the next two…” 

“Have you thought about if you might want to move in with me?” He asked, his jaw tense but his eyes soft. “Only if… you know… you thought you were ready for that. Just figure I’m at yours or you’re at mine most nights anyway and…” 

“Joel,” you smiled, setting your fork down and leaning on the table with your arms crossed in front of you. “Are you asking me to move in with you?” 

“Only if you wanted,” he said quickly. “Not tryin’ to… I dunno… put pressure on you or something. Never tried to do this before so…” 

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. More at yourself than at Joel. Because of course he was thinking what you were thinking. Of course you were in the same place on this. Of course you were both nervous about bringing it up to each other. 

“I’d love to move in with you,” you said once you were sure you had yourself together. “As long as you’re offering because that’s what you really want and not because you think you should.” 

“Oh I want it,” he was smiling now and leaning toward you across the table. “Was considering just taking stuff from your place and moving it to mine, get you in the door before you even knew it was happening.” 

“That what happened to my sexy underwear?” You teased. 

“Nah,” he waved you off. “I stole those to jerk off with when you’re not there because you don’t live with me yet. Can have ‘em back when we unpack the moving truck.” 

You moved in a few weeks later. Joel cleared out most of his closet, his jeans and button downs taking up only a small corner of it to begin with, and built you shelving for your purses and shoes. He made space for your things throughout his home, for your favorite pots and pans in the kitchen, for your decorations in the living room. Setting aside the bits and pieces of his life to make sure it could hold yours, too. If he’d asked you to marry him in that moment, you’d have said yes in a heartbeat. 

“Oh shit,” you sighed, rifling through your makeup bag. “I think I left my fucking lipstick in my room…” 

You went to get your room key from your clutch but Sarah plopped a tube of lipstick in front of you first. 

“Use mine,” she said. “I’m almost ready and I don’t want to waste time with you up down three floors and all the way over to your room before we go to the party. I want cocktails, I want music and I want to flirt with my hot boyfriend while I wear a slutty dress.” 

“Maria is still getting dressed, I’ve got five minutes…” 

“No you don’t!” She called from the bedroom before coming to the bathroom door and turning around. “Zip me?” 

You laughed and obeyed, Maria adjusting the dress a bit before turning back around. 

“Hey sexy mama!” You whooped at her. “That looks like it was made for you.” 

“Right?” She flung her long braids over her shoulder before admiring herself in the full length mirror on the bathroom door. “My pregnancy boobs have shown up but the bump is still in hiding. It’s the perfect dress moment, had to take advantage of it.” 

“Hear that little one?” Sarah said, looking toward Maria’s lower stomach. “You’re making your mom look hot!” 

“Hotter,” you corrected. “They’re making their mom look hotter.” 

You settled for Sarah’s lipstick and the three of you headed for the elevator to go meet up with the guys. 

Your first New Year’s Eve with Joel had been far more low key. Sarah was in town and Joel invited Tommy and Maria over to watch the ball drop. You’d ordered pizza and gotten drunk and played charades with your boyfriend’s family and, at midnight, kissed Joel so deeply that you could taste the champagne on his tongue. 

This year, you had plenty to celebrate. It was Maria and Tommy’s last one before they became parents - you highly doubted they’d be up until midnight next year. Sarah had gotten promoted and you’d gotten her a job at the Austin branch in August. She had moved back to town just a few months before you moved in with Joel and the three of you had found a comfortable - if unusual - dynamic as a family. And it felt like you had finally found everything you’d ever truly wanted. 

Instead of staying home this New Year’s Eve, you all decided to go to a party at one of the nice hotels in Houston. You’d all gotten hotel rooms so no one had to drive and the boys had all gone on ahead to the rooftop bar to hold a table while the three of you got ready to go. 

“Crap, one sec,” Sarah said, frowning at her phone as the three of you went for the elevator. “Left something in the room, wait for me, OK? I don’t want to try to find them on my own!” 

You and Maria watched her run back to her room - where the three of you had been getting ready - and you frowned as she tottered on her high heels. 

“Is she acting weird?” You asked as Maria leaned against the wall. 

“Sarah?” Maria laughed. “She’s always weird.” 

She came back a few minutes later, tugging her dress down as she went and a little breathless when she got there. 

“OK,” she smiled and took a deep breath. “Now we’re good!” 

You were almost giddy as you rode the elevator up to the party, feeling the thud of music through the elevator doors before they opened. 

It was hard to say why you were just so excited. It wasn’t like you’d never been to a party before - you and Sarah had rung in the New Year at a party a lot like this one that your office had handled the advertising for in Seattle one year - but it felt like something new. Like you were stepping into the first year of your life where everything had finally fallen into place. 

“Hey!” Tommy yelled, standing and waving his arm over his head as he saw the three of you leave the elevator. You could barely hear him over the thud of the bass. “Over here!” 

“How many beers do you think he’s had?” Maria asked conspiratorially and you laughed. 

“Probably the same number mine has,” you replied, smiling at Joel as he craned his neck to get a better look at you. 

“Holy hell woman,” he said, getting out of the round booth as you got to the table. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and dropped his voice low. “Not sure I’m gonna take that dress off you later, might need to leave it on.” 

You smiled as he gave you a squeeze and you sat down, Joel sliding in beside you, one hand of his going below the table to the inside of your thigh. 

One thing that hadn’t changed in the last year was just how insatiable the two of you were for each other. You kept waiting for it to calm down a bit, to stop looking at him and immediately start thinking of how to get him alone and naked as quickly as possible. But Joel was still the single sexiest man you’d ever seen and was still far and away the best in bed. You couldn’t help but want to fuck him all day every day. You were just thankful he seemed to feel the same way about you. 

One of your favorite things about living with Joel was your after work routine. When you managed to make it so you left the office around the same time Joel left his job site, you’d join him in the shower, your hair in a knot on top of your head to keep from getting too soaked, Joel still a little sweaty and dirty from a hard day’s work. Sometimes, you just enjoyed each other. You loved the quiet intimacy of it, of being in such a private space together in just your skin, helping him wash the day from his body before he pulled you against him under the water. Other times, Joel pressed you against the cool tile and fucked into you, hard and fast and eager, making your back arch as your leg wrapped around him, the heat of his mouth and the steam filling you when you kissed him. 

The new routines had just given you more reasons and opportunities to fuck, it seemed, instead of sex getting lost in the monotony of daily life. Sometimes it was in the middle of late night TV when you were both getting tired on the couch. Sometimes it was when you were putting away laundry. Sometimes it was when you were making dinner. 

It was just that, sometimes, it required… additional boundaries. 

Sarah had a key to Joel’s place, of course, but she quickly learned that she needed to announce herself before just coming in the door when she wasn’t expected, her walking in the house without warning when he was deep inside of you while you were draped over the kitchen counter was a little too close for comfort for all three of you. 

“I have literally never wanted to know less about your sex life,” she shuddered a few hours later when you were sitting in Joel’s back yard, fully clothed with a beer in your hand. 

You laughed. 

“Never wanted you to know less about it so that works just fine for me.” 

You, Joel and Sarah all had dinner together at least once a week, another routine you’d come to love, and you got Sarah all to yourself most days over lunch, happy for the chance to laugh with your best friend.

You weren’t sure life could get much better. 

“Oh sweet!” Sarah said as the waitress came by the table, tray of drinks in hand, passing a cosmopolitan to Sarah. “Who knew this was just what I wanted?” 

“Happy to take credit for that,” Nick smiled, kissing her cheek and you smiled at him. He was a relatively new addition to Sarah’s life but he seemed promising. You’d never seen her quite so giddy over a guy before and you were trying not to mention it so you wouldn’t jinx it. 

When she finally owned up to being hung up on the man, though, you were going to start teasing her as relentlessly as she’d been teasing you. You were getting double wedding jokes lined up and ready, waiting for the perfect moment to hit her with it. 

But it was a holiday. You’d take it easy on her for a little while longer. Assuming she stopped calling you Mom. 

Joel had been paying attention too, it seemed, and the server handed you a mojito. Appropriate, since you’d just been lamenting the fact that you didn’t have fresh mint at home just two nights before. 

“How often are you really gonna muddle mint for a drink?” Joel asked, barely contained smile on his face. 

“At least once in a while!” You laughed. “Come on, we could do a whole herb garden in the yard…” 

“You are not gonna keep a garden alive.” 

“Yes I will!” You protested. He raised his eyebrows at you, incredulous. “If I have the motivation of cocktails I will.” 

“Fine,” he sighed but still smiled, kissing your forehead. “In spring I’ll build you a garden and you can kill as many herbs as you want, Beautiful.”

“Is this supposed to bribe me into you not making me a garden?” You teased, taking a sip of the drink. 

“Baby, I will make you whatever makes you smile,” he kissed your exposed shoulder. “But if I’m saving the lives of some poor, innocent plants by ordering you a cocktail…” 

You laughed and kissed him, the scratch of his facial hair on your skin comforting and familiar. 

The party really picked up not long after you got there and you, Sarah and Maria went to dance while the guys hung back to talk for a bit. 

“You don’t think they’re being too hard on him do you?” Sarah asked, watching the table. 

“Oh I’m sure they’re being super nice,” you said. “Joel and Tommy have never been protective of you, not once.” 

“Oh God,” she groaned but she smiled. 

“Wouldn’t worry too much,” you laughed. “It looks like he’s weathering it well.” 

“Hold on,” Maria smiled and shook her head. “We can get him some help…” 

She started waving to Tommy, who clapped Nick on the shoulder and got out of the booth to join his wife on the dance floor. You looked at Joel, eyebrows raised, until he met your gaze and you saw him sigh and smile before heading your way. 

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, pressing tightly to him and feeling every line of him through your clothes. His hands went to your waist, pulling you closer. 

“You tryin’ to distract me?” He asked when you pulled away. 

“Trying to get you to play nice,” you teased. 

“Always play nice,” he said as you turned around in his hold, your ass going back against his hardening length. He lowered his lips to your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Except when you ask me not to.” 

You resisted the urge to drag him back to your hotel room right that second. Instead, you pressed yourself harder against him, moving your body in time to the pulsing, thrumming rhythm. His hands slid to your hips and you couldn’t help but think of how they felt on your bare skin. 

But you managed to keep it together for a few songs, dancing until you were breathless and you really couldn’t take it anymore. You draped yourself around Joel again, pressing your lips to his ear. 

“Order me a water and another mojito,” you said, your hand sliding into his pocket, brushing his half hard cock through his jeans, as you grabbed your phone. “And check your texts.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to respond, just meeting his wide eyes for a moment before slipping into the crowd. You went around to the pool area of the rooftop, far quieter than the bar and the dance floor, the lounge chairs all stacked up next to a storage space that looked like it would provide the perfect cover from the dance floor. You took a selfie with just a glimpse of the thudding party in the background and texted it to him. 

“Come find me.” 

It didn’t take him long, coming around the corner while glancing back over his shoulder, looking nervous. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him into you, your back against the storage room. 

“You are up to no good,” he said, pressing you back against the wall, his mouth covering yours, his body warm against the cool night air. “Tryin’ to get us kicked out of the damn hotel?” 

His hand went to your breast, anyway.

“We can keep our clothes on,” you panted against him. “Be very well behaved. Like that time in the bathroom.” 

“Fuck, Beautiful,” he groaned, putting his thigh between your legs, your skirt covering part of his jeans. He rocked his hips against you, his hands going to your waist, the outline of his hard cock against your stomach. “Wanna make me come in my pants like a fucking teenager?” 

“Don’t think we’re making it to midnight any other way,” you were needy, aching as you ground your pussy down on the straining muscle of his leg. 

“Still gonna let me fuck you later?” He kissed down your neck, rutting harder against you, your hands on his shoulders, grip tightening. 

“You think I’m starting a new year without you inside me as soon as possible you’re insane.” 

He laughed a little and nipped at your collarbone before pulling you tighter against his leg, making you moan. You started working yourself harder and faster against him, pulling him tighter to you, your wetness soaking your panties. 

“You’re close, aren’t you, Baby?” He asked, voice dark. Your motions stuttered but you nodded frantically against him. “Gonna come all over my fucking leg aren’t you? Come from just riding my fucking thigh?” 

You were close enough that you’d lost the ability to speak. You just nodded again and he kissed you, hard and messy and deep and you pressed yourself firmly against his leg as you fell apart, the tight coil inside yourself snapping as your clit throbbed against him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He gasped as he pressed his cock hard against you and you felt him throbbing there, spilling into his jeans before slumping against you. His nose brushed yours for a moment and you smiled, kissing him lightly. 

“You’re going to kill me,” he laughed a little breathlessly. “More than a year into this and you still want me to fuck you so bad you’re dragging me away from a party?” 

“That’s nothing,” you teased. “Wait until we’re really old and we’re finding ways to sneak around the nursing home.” 

He laughed and kissed you again. 

“Love you so fuckin’ much.” 

It was easier to focus on the party after that. Tommy gave Joel a look when you made it back to the table and Joel told him to mind his own business and you laughed and drank your mojito. 

By the time midnight rolled around, you’d been pleasantly tipsy for more than an hour, draping yourself over Joel at every opportunity when you weren’t dancing with Sarah and Maria. As the countdown started, the six of you crowded onto the dance floor with everyone else, champagne in hand, Joel’s arm around you as he held you to his side. 

“Three, two, one!” 

Joel turned you to him and kissed you before you’d even had a chance to yell happy New Year and you sank into him, almost forgetting about the drink in your hand until some of it dribbled down your wrist, making you laugh against his lips. 

“Couldn’t let a second of the year go by before I kissed you for the first time,” he said, his lips still close to yours. The knot of heat and wanting that had eased after your antics earlier was back with full force. 

“Good,” you said quietly, drinking in the hungry look in his eyes. 

“It’s supposed to be a toast, you insatiable weirdos,” Sarah laughed and you laughed back, separating from Joel far enough to raise your glasses and toast with your new found family. 

It wasn’t long before all of you made your way to the elevators, piling into one with a handful of strangers, you happy for the excuse to stay pressed tightly against Joel. 

“Good luck!” Tommy said, a teasing edge to his voice when the doors dinged open on your floor. 

You frowned at him, confused, as the doors closed and you laughed a little as Joel led you back to the room. 

“Why do you need luck? Is Tommy under the impression that you have to work to get sex out of me?” You teased. “Because it’s sweet that you’d protect my honor that way but we both know that’s a damn lie.” 

“Tommy’s just a dumbass,” Joel replied. “Ignore him, that’s what I do.” 

You laughed, the tail end of your buzz waning. 

“Thinking we should take full advantage of that jacuzzi tub,” you said as Joel unlocked the hotel room door. “And use it to research the investment of a hot tub in the back yard…” 

“You’re insatiable,” he teased, opening the door for you. 

You laughed and were so busy looking at him - his thick, dark hair that was flecked with gray; his plush lips; his soft eyes - that it took you a second to realize there were roses and petals all over the room, a bottle of wine chilled in a bucket on the small table. 

“Joel?” You looked back at him and he just shrugged, smiling. 

You went further into the room and realized that it wasn’t just flowers and wine. There were framed pictures of you and Joel from the last year of your lives together. One of the two of you on Bourbon Street, another from when you decided to actually take those wine tasting classes you’d talked about, one from your second Longhorn’s game. There were at least a dozen, each one making it look so, so obvious that you made each other happy. That you gave each other the lives you wanted. 

You picked up the picture by the bedside, the first selfie you’d ever taken together. You were hiking and you’d held your arm out far enough to try to capture some of the view behind you. You were smiling hugely at the camera, hair grimy with sweat, Joel’s arm around your shoulders. But he wasn’t looking at the camera. Instead, he was looking at you. Looking at you like you were the only thing worth looking at. Looking at you like you made him happier than just about anything else on Earth. 

“What…” You trailed off, looking up from the picture to see Joel, on one knee with a box in his hands at the foot of the bed. 

You gasped and jumped, your hands covering your mouth on instinct, eyes wide. Your feet moved before you really realized what was happening and it seemed sudden that you were right in front of him.

“Joel,” you breathed, trembling hands slowly leaving your face. 

“For a very long time,” he said, his voice assured. “It felt like I’d gotten the only good thing I was going to get out of life. I had Sarah and seemed wrong to ask for more than that so I wasn’t lookin’ for it. Wasn’t lookin’ for you. But then I found you - or you found me, anyway - and I realized just how good life could be as long as I got to live it next to you. 

“You are the single best person I’ve ever met. You’re so smart and funny and creative and kind and the most fun I’ve ever had and I can’t imagine anything better than getting to live the rest of my life with you. Will you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?” 

***

Joel wasn’t sure his heart had ever beat this fast. Maybe when Sarah was first born and there were the torturous few seconds of silence before she started crying, not sure how anything about pregnancy or babies worked. Definitely never since. 

But the silence between you seemed to drag on for an eternity even though he knew it could have only been a second or two. That didn’t stop his heart from racing. 

“Yes,” you nodded, your voice thick, tears in your eyes. “Yes, yes, yes, yes yes!” 

You damn near tackled him and he laughed, catching you and holding onto you as he lowered the two of you to the ground on a bed of rose petals. 

Joel, Tommy and Nick had been in here getting everything set up while Sarah and Maria kept you busy in Sarah’s room. There was a brief moment of panic when Sarah texted that the three of you were headed to the party and Joel had to ask her to buy at least two minutes because they were walking to the elevator themselves. 

“I’m so happy for you, man,” Tommy said, clapping Joel on the shoulder as they headed up to the party. “You deserve this, you really fuckin’ do.” 

“She ain’t said yes yet,” Joel said, feeling the nerves all sudden and hot under his skin. “Don’t jinx it.” 

“She’ll say yes,” Tommy said, sounding so confident. “Don’t ask me WHY but that woman adores you. She’s gonna love it.” 

He hoped you did. He hoped you loved the idea at all, that you loved the proposal, that you loved the ring. Sarah had helped pick that part out so he was more confident of that, finding a piece that was elegant without looking dated, something that he hoped you’d like wearing for the rest of your life. 

Because that’s what he wanted. He wanted you, wanted to make you happy, for the rest of your life. 

He slid the ring onto your finger, the diamond catching the light as he did. 

“Are you serious?” You asked, looking from the ring to him. 

“Serious about spending the rest of my life with you?” He asked. “Can’t think of anything better.” 

You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him, hard and needy. He leaned into it for a moment before he pulled back from you. 

“Should move to the bed,” he breathed. “Gotta treat my fiancee right.” 

You just nodded quickly and Joel got up before helping you to your feet. 

He tugged your dress up and over your head - as much as he wanted to fuck you in the sexy little thing you’d been tempting him with all night, the need to feel your skin was too great - and eased you down onto the bed. 

You moved to the middle of it and Joel got undressed, his eyes watching you hungrily, the glint of his ring on your finger making him somehow even harder. You removed your bra and cast it aside before you slipped your panties down your legs and tossed them to the side, leaving you exposed and bare. You were everything it seemed like he’d ever wanted and you were his, the proof of it right there on your hand. He fisted his cock, pumping himself once, twice, as he climbed between your legs. 

He wanted to make this last. He wanted to go down on you and swallow your pleasure until you were screaming with it. He wanted to kiss every inch of your skin. He wanted to tease you with his fingers until you were begging for his cock. But he wasn’t sure he could, not that moment. He had a feeling you wouldn’t be leaving the bed for a few days after this.

“Joel,” you panted, watching him, pupils blown and back arched. He smiled. For some reason, you wanted him like he wanted you. 

“Yes, Mrs. Miller?” He breathed, settling between your open legs, the apex of your thighs hot against his skin. You moaned and rocked your hips up against him, your needy little clit pressing into his skin. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, closing your eyes, fingers gripping his bicep tightly. “Love the sound of that…” 

“You have no idea, Beautiful,” he said, kissing you, grinding his cock against your dripping slit. You moaned, the movement of your hips stuttering for a moment before you adjusted the angle so the tip of him was catching on your entrance with ever pass, just enough for the most sensitive part of him to be enveloped in your tight, wet heat. 

“Need you,” you were almost gasping with it, desperate and wanting. “Please, please, need to feel you, I need…” 

“Always going to give you what you need, Baby,” he said, his cock dipping further into you this time before he pulled back and pushed himself against your clit again. “Always gonna take care of you, always.” 

He pushed into you then, firm but not to fast, your breath catching on your throat as he did. Joel kissed you, trying not to think about how damn good you felt, how it seemed like he belonged right there, deep inside you. 

“Fuck,” your nails dug into him but he held on. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good how do you feel this fucking good?” 

He could only moan in response, fucking into you, feeling you open up to him, your walls gripping him tight. He stayed still inside you for a moment, savoring it, the feeling of you around him while he was over you, the way you held onto him. 

But he couldn’t last that way for long. You - his fiancee. His fiancee, no one else’s, you belonged to no one but him - felt too damn good for him to last too long inside of you and he had to move, he had to. 

So he did, starting a little slower but still firm, pressing his hips into you so your hot little clit was against his skin. 

He could feel you starting to tighten around him, like your body was trying to pull him deeper somehow, your lips messy and desperate when they found his, trialing little kisses over his body when they don’t. 

“That’s it, Beautiful,” he panted into you. “Come for me, can feel how close you are, just let go for me, let me feel you. Need to feel you…” 

You gasped his name and pressed your whole body tight against him as you came around him, your pussy fluttering around him, working his cock, all warm and soft trying to pull him as deep as you could take him. He fucked you through it, hardly able to hold off his own orgasm, the aftershocks of yours still rippling through your tight channel when he emptied himself into you until he didn’t even have the strength to hold himself up anymore, collapsing on you, his head over your shoulder so he could smell your skin and your hair. Fuck, he loved that smell. Fuck, he loved you. 

After a minute, he adjusted the two of you so you were draped over his chest, your arms all soft and pliant, close enough that he could feel your heartbeat on his skin, feel your soft, little breaths on him. You held up your left hand, turning the ring back and forth in the light. 

“You’re sure about this?” You asked, glancing up at him as you fidgeted with the ring. 

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything,” he said. “Would make you Mrs. Miller tomorrow if you’d let me.” 

You laughed a little at that, putting your hand down on his chest and taking a deep breath. 

“Doesn’t seem fair,” you said softly. 

“What doesn’t?” 

“You’ve given me so much,” you said. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted - everything. Feels like I’m not holding up my end.” 

“You kiddin’ me?” He scoffed. “You’re so perfect I have to remind myself that you’re real sometimes, that I’m not just imagining you. You make me the luckiest man on Earth every damn day by just breathing in the same room as me. If anything’s not fair, it’s that I got too greedy asking you to marry me. Should know to quit when I’m this far ahead.” 

You laughed and pressed your lips into his chest, looking at the ring again, twisting it this way and that with your thumb. 

“Make you a deal,” you said, adjusting your head so you were looking at him. 

“What’s your proposal?” He asked, teasing. 

“You take care of me,” you said. “Make sure I’m not getting too overwhelmed or overdoing it at work or just getting too in my own head. I’ll take care of you, make sure you take time for yourself, make sure you relax, make sure you know how great you are. Deal?” 

He smiled a little. 

“Deal, Mrs. Miller.” 

You smiled bigger. 

“Excellent, Mr. Miller.” 

He kissed your forehead. 

“Don’t have to change your last name, you know,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “I can always just call you that for my own damn enjoyment without making it official.” 

You laughed a little. 

“No, I want to change it,” you said. “Sarah was right all along. I think I’m going to make a great Miller.” 

A/N: Ahhh! I hope you all loved reading the story of Joel and Sarah's best friend as much as I loved sharing it! These two are so fun and so sweet, I'm so glad I got to give them the happy ending they deserved.

Thank you so so much for being here, for following along with this little story that started as a one shot based on a request that came in after I wrote another one shot as a request. I so appreciate that you're here, that you've spent your time with this fic and these characters and all of your support. This corner of the internet means everything to me and it's because you're a part of it <3 Love you!

Taglist: @fanficismydrug

[olvitier]

Sorry its so late buf i am in an Edling mood tonight and I will never stop thinking about the idea of how theyre the epitome of right person wrong time.

(obviously in a context of like fandom shenannigans where canon events arent 100% set in stone like edling arent canon but also idc !! they are to me! im ignoring it let me be insane) ANYWAY

Even if they wanted to be together post promised day Ling has all the responsibilities of Xing and his clan and Edward would never hold him back from that for a second. Im of the opinion that brotherhood Edward feels a lot of guilt for wanting love from the people around him particularly those he sees as good (winry, alphonse, etc) especially if hes done things hes perceived as hurting them (maes’ death, the transmutation, etc etc). Which is why I think Edward connects with Ling so well cayse he doesnt carry the weight of a lot if his past mistakes, and then when the stone happens its like goddamn it i roped this guy into my shit again. Like i dont know Edward doesnt really dedicate himself so fully to people outside of winry and ed a lot so its interesting like!!

He cares about a lot of people like the majority of the allied cast and we see him be openly affectionate towards Nina and Hughes pre their deaths but I think Ling is the only person hes ever decided to stick with WITHOUT alphonse? I may be wrong but the whole sure Ill stay with you and trust my brother and Winry to stay safe and follow you around the outskirts of the east for a week till the promised day to protect my new friend is so??? what?? huh???

But anyone my point is post promised day Edward cant really ever see a future with Ling because of all the responsibility Ling holds outside of him and its veyr tragic imo like especially because in a different scenario if Ling didnt have those responsibilities and Edward wasn’t so dedicated to the people around him to a fault of never thinking about his own desires I think they could have the possibility of a future.

Like I have read a lot of fanfiction abiut Ed traveling to Xing and living with him there but?? I realistically cant see him ever doing that just solely because Edward is not the type of person to settle down! like its my one and only criticism of the fma manga is that I cannot see Edward ever being satisfied with a simple life? Like even in Fma 03 which is my favourite interpretation of Edwards character once he gets stranded in our world he learns?? Rocket Science?? For the chance to get back to Amestris but he doesnt really seem to take that goal all that seriously especially considered Alfons ends up getting involved in a lot more aircraft projects than Edward like Edwsrd genuinely enjoys learning!!

Im pretty sure he was the one who dragged Alphonse into Hoenhiems office when they were kids after he left, probably to Al’s reluctance of if they were allowed in there, and started ripping through all of his old books just to learn. Edward never stops and it gets so bad that he never stops to even consider himself constantly worrying about getting his brother back or improving the states of others lives especially when! ya know! the whole country is at stake!!

So in a circumstance post promised day where Ed decides what he wants to do (my personal favourite interpretation is either an alchemical researcher outside of directly performing alchemy, ie revolutionizing the circle matrixes and discovering nee combinations or becoming a professor of some kind) I dont think he would give that up to settle again. And obviously Ling cant exactly up and leave being Emperor unless he decides he doesnt want to, im not the most knowledgable on Lings characterization so I wont speak there but!

They have so much fun together and compliment each other and genuinely care about each other so much but their happiness and fulfillment as people to themselves and others make it so its nearly impossible they would ever realistically end up together and its really doomed and tragic!! idk i think about it a lot.

[wittyno]

My thoughts on seasons one and two of the x-files.

Background: I knew nothing about the plot of the x-files before starting the show. I knew I would like it because I love Delta Green, which is just the x-files as a TTRPG and I knew Joel McHale loves it and proposed to his wife while watching it. I watched the first season about six or so months ago. I really liked it but life got busy and I wanted to give it the attention it deserves. I just watched season 2. yay

Here are some random thoughts

- that pilot is fire. It’s so fucking good. It hooks you in right away. It feels like a classic of the genre. The I lost time idea is done so well and not in a over the top way.

- this show is way more visceral than I thought it would be. Maybe because I’ve seen so much current cop-focused shows but this show grips you way better than any of the current copaganda on the market. It’s an actual drama not just pretending to be one.

- Season 1 is 24 episodes and season 2 is 25 episodes long. That’s an insane schedule. Not just by today‘s standard but just in general. I watched most of it on Freevee, which gives you little trivia about each episode, which is fun. It also means I know the horrifying fact that only two weeks after giving birth Gillian Anderson went back to work on this show. That’s probably just the tip of the iceberg.

- even for TV Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny are very good looking. The choice to cast Boy Scout looking ass David Duchovny as the primary believer in the supernatural is so smart. Anyone else and he might come off as scary. The reason „am I spooky?“ is so funny is because the obvious answer is „no, not even a little“.

- because this show is so good. I can absolutely see how people who are already conspiracy-minded individual could take this show and really run with it. That’s not a criticism or a reason to not watch the show. It’s also not the fault of the creators nor a call to not make this type of art. I don’t even think this is a American History X type blunder. It’s just a warning. If you start believing in stuff like this to maybe take a break.

- the genetic memory episode is stupid. Also Phineas Gage lived a pretty normal life after his accident. He didn’t become violent. That’s not how the brain works.

- Scully gets kidnapped at least three times in season 2, which is too many. Even in a season with 25 episodes that’s too many. I know, the first one was because Gillian Anderson was pregnant but come on.

- while it is still copaganda and has some of those traits (choking suspects), it feels less like it because it pitches our FBI Heroes against impossible things and overwhelming forces (both human and extraterrestrial).

- it does a good job of balancing its insane runtime without overstaying its welcome. The middle of the season doesn’t sag or stagnate because they put mid-season finale.

- I like how often Mulder and Scully loose. Usually the military comes and covers it up or the evidence disappears and I like that. It gives the show a weight most cop show is don’t. Most cop shows, they either find, convict, or kill the suspect. It usually ends „well“, at least according to the rules of the show. Some of that happens here but more often than not. More innocent people get hurt. I like it because it shows the true overwhelming nature of what a job fighting the occult and extraterrestrial would look like.

- as for the political stuff. I think it’s important to remember that this show started airing in 1992 so you have to balance any sort of unsavory remarks or storylines against the age of the show. On the whole it actually does a pretty good job so far. As far as I can tell, at least.

- additionally you have to remember that in this world aliens are real and already among us. Spirits and other occult and extraterrestrials exist. The way you handle that is going to be different than we would in the real world. Especially with episodes like Calusari.

- the tech. So many examples on how old this show is. The big ones are the cars obviously, any sort of use or lack of use of the internet, and anything to do with phones. No texts, the prominent use of answering machines, hell I haven’t heard anyone talking about screening calls in over a decade. but the one I hadn’t thought of was flashlights. Flashlights have come a long way in the last 30-odd years.

- scully is a doctor of everything. Pathologist? Yes! Immunologist? Yes! She just keeps calling herself a medical doctor, which is technically true but is insane. Her knowledge base is just as wide as the writers need it to be and just as inaccurate to fit the plot. Honestly? Good for her! Woman in STEM.

- it’s also nice to see double breasted suits again. I feel like they are due for a come back. Though not some of those hairstyles. The only reason Dana looks good in hers is because she’s played by Gillian Anderson.

- that intro is doing the most. I love it so much. We don’t do intro like that anymore. It explains the entire premise of the show. With visuals and everything.

- yes, of course I ship them.

[dotthings]

Dead Boy Detectives notes for ep 7

* Esther vs Cat King make really fun antagonists.

* Richard Speight Jr directing

* Night Nurse ranting about how difficult it is to get someone back from Hell, the permits and the approvals! and no one wants to go there!! is sending me

* Charles making a deal so he can go into Hell himself and raise Edwin from Perdition this is fine

* Crystal insisting she go with Edwin to Hell, Edwin refusing, Crystal deciding to get there herself by making a deal with her horrible ex who is a demon, and Jenny racing after Crystal because she shouldn’t be doing that alone. This friends circle all looks after each other.

* And Niko is being the only sane sensible one in the joint, making constructive suggestions

* Edwin’s spirit found Charles when he was shivering and alone and confused about what was happening and he brought Charles a lantern and he made him laugh and offered him guidance and was there for him to escort his spirit from the living to the dead. He acted as Charles’s psychopomp. (Oh hi there Carver and Yockey. I’m appreciating this in its own right but having all kinds of Thoughts here)

* “You really gave up a potentially tranquil eternity for your friend?”

Because that’s what restless spirits with big hearts do. Sometimes they refuse to cross over. Sometimes even if they’ve crossed over they take a drive and go on an adventure breaking the rules. Because they’re still looking for something. (Again with the Thoughts. The parallels here are driving me insane).

* Really loving the design and gestalt of this sequence of Charles’s journey through the various levels of Hell

* Charles carrying that same lantern!! *heartclutch*

* Master stroke payoff on a little “throwaway” moment earlier in the season of Edwin’s aversion to a creepy broken doll. Throaway moments are usually…not. It all means something.

* Edwin’s rejection of Despair, of vengeance. Now I’m thinking of Charles who said he wanted to be good, who thinks he’s only his anger. And now Edwin’s fear of being taken over, being defined, by his darker emotions too. Neither want to be defined by that. Darker emotions are part of who people are but don’t have to define them. Integration with and acceptance the whole self is the main idea.

* Simon not wanting to leave Hell because he thinks he doesn’t deserve anything else. Someone who isn’t evil. He didn’t know, he made a terrible mistake. Sometimes people get eaten by their own fears and self blame and the weight of their mistakes and can’t see another way

* Jenny admitting she cares!!

* Crystal and her ancestors burying her abusive ex a demon who is only about cruelty in the ground. Not vengeance or despair. Justice.

* “What are you doing here” “I’m here to rescue you” THIS IS FINE I’M FINE1!!!

* ROMANTIC LOVE CONFESSION. IN HELL.

* “I just need you to know” (It’s not in the having it’s in just being)

* Getting love and acceptance back. No matter what. And they’ll figure out what it all means—they have an eternity to figure it out.

* Jenny, reclined with a wet washcloth over her forehead: “Niko, did you just say someone is back from Hell?” Jenny is having A Day (I know that feeling, Jenny. It’ll be okay)

* Subverting the system from within. Using the cosmic red tape against the system.

* “I know I’m not the bravest but I have excellent reading comprehension skills” Niko <333

* Using “Burning” as the music cue (this song is fire, it was used for the Echo opening credits, great song). “Lay your red hand on me baby as I go” WAIT A MINUTE—

Speight’s directing in this ep was phenomenal and that Speight OF ALL PEOPLE DIRECTED THIS EP WITH THIS PARTICULAR PLOT, I—

CARVER AND YOCKEY I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE AND AM LOSING MY DAMN MIND THANK YOU SO MUCH