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kathaelipwse · 29 days ago

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Stolen Hoodies & Soft Confessions | P.Seonghwa

Pairings: Seonghwa (ATEEZ) × Reader (VYRA)

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 8603 words ; Reading Time: 31-ish mins

Trope: Idol × Idol | Co-parenting energy [hwa the MOTHER of Ateez & Y/N the DAD of Vyra | Secret relationship | Friends to lovers | Soft domestic chaos

Warnings: Mild language, public discovery of a relationship, mentions of stress, light fan/media frenzy, NO PROOF READING WAS DONE

Synopsis: In the chaos of idol life, late-night ramen and borrowed hoodies spark a quiet, unexpected romance between KQ’s “parents.” What started in secret can’t stay hidden forever—especially when the fans (and their chaotic kids) catch on.

Author’s Note: This is a love letter to quiet intimacy and the chaos of idol life. (THIS SMAU ITSELF IS CHAOS.) If you've ever shipped your bias with comfort and ramen-flavored affection, this one’s for you. – with love, always

VYRA

Members (4 + You): You (eldest, leader, main vocalist) – Tired Dad™, emotionally constipated, accidentally soft for Hwa Jinny (02 liner, main dancer) – Absolute menace, ships you with Hwa loudly Sera (03 liner, lead rapper) – Lowkey savage, always filming your moments with Hwa Nari (04 liner, maknae, lead vocal) – Innocent-looking but chaotic gremlin Hana (00 liner, visual) – The calm one, voice of reason, actually more feral in private

The first day of the survival show was already shaping up to be an Olympic-level disaster, and you were pretty sure you deserved a medal in the “Most Likely to Spontaneously Combust from Stress” category.

You knew it the second your slightly battered sneakers squeaked onto the polished studio floor, your lungs burning from the sprint, and your arms screaming under the weight of the chaotic detritus your four beloved but utterly space-brained groupmates had managed to forget. Mic pouches (Jinny’s, naturally). Hairbrushes (Sera’s, the expensive one). Someone’s half-empty water bottle (Nari, probably convinced it held magic hydration powers). Someone else’s lucky scrunchie (Hana, who claimed it channeled her inner zen, which was currently MIA). Your own tote bag was threatening to give way at the seams, your hoodie was a monument to rushed dressing with its half-zipped state, and your reservoir of patience? Currently hovering somewhere around absolute zero.

“Morning, sunshines,” you muttered, the words laced with a sarcasm thick enough to spread on toast, as you finally reached the VYRA huddle. Your four members stood there, radiating an aura of blissful ignorance, looking for all the world like they were waiting for a particularly slow bus, rather than the start of a career-defining survival show.

“Unnieee,” Jinny wailed dramatically, latching onto your arm like a particularly clingy barnacle. “You’re the best! You brought everything!” Her eyes, however, darted immediately to the forgotten mic pouch peeking out of your overloaded bag.

You huffed, the sound escaping your lips like air from a punctured tire. With a grunt, you deposited the precarious pile of belongings onto a nearby thankfully sturdy table. “Next time any of you forget so much as a single bobby pin, I’m locking the dorm from the outside, throwing the key into the deepest part of the Han River, and changing the locks. Understood?”

Four heads bobbed with varying degrees of enthusiasm. You weren’t entirely convinced they’d even registered your words, but you were too tired to elaborate.

From across the bustling studio, a low, quiet chuckle drifted your way. You turned your head slightly, your gaze snagging on a figure standing near the ATEEZ contingent. Seonghwa. Of course. He always seemed to exist in a pocket of calm amidst the surrounding frenzy. He looked impossibly put together, cool and composed in a way that made your current state of disheveled exhaustion feel even more pronounced. He was holding a simple paper cup, the steam curling gently into the air.

And then, inexplicably, he started walking towards you.

Your eyes widened almost imperceptibly. You blinked, trying desperately to rearrange your features into something resembling composure. Your hoodie was now actively sticking to your damp back. Your face felt flushed, a delightful combination of the biting morning air and the sheer, undignified speed-walking you’d employed to arrive (almost) on time. You probably looked like you’d wrestled a particularly aggressive octopus and lost.

“You look like you could use this,” Seonghwa said quietly, his voice a smooth contrast to the surrounding chaos, as he extended the paper cup towards you.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second. Was this some kind of K-Drama slow-motion moment? Because it certainly felt like it. You glanced at the cup, then back at his kind eyes.

“…You sure?” you managed, your voice a little rougher than intended.

He offered a small, gentle smile that somehow managed to convey both amusement and genuine concern. “You’re the only one here who looks like they’ve already run a marathon before ten in the morning.”

You finally relented, reaching out and taking the cup with both hands. The warmth seeped into your chilled fingers, a small but significant comfort.

“…Thanks,” you mumbled, surprised by the unexpected gesture. “You’re a… a genuine life-saver.”

“I try my best,” he replied, a playful tilt to his head that hinted at a dry wit you hadn’t anticipated.

Before you could formulate a proper reply, a booming voice cut through the studio noise. “Alright everyone! Positions! Cooking segment starting in five!” A harried-looking staff member gestured towards a designated area with various cooking stations.

You groaned inwardly. You still couldn’t fathom who at KQ Entertainment had greenlit the idea of a live cooking competition featuring a dozen sleep-deprived idols with varying levels of culinary incompetence. That person, you decided, owed you not just an apology, but a lifetime supply of industrial-strength coffee.

VYRA, predictably, was a disaster zone the moment they approached their station. Sera, in her enthusiasm, nearly managed to ignite her loose sleeve on an open burner, requiring a swift intervention from Hana and a fire extinguisher held precariously close by a nervous staff member. Nari, bless her chaotic heart, somehow managed to knock over half a bottle of sesame oil, creating a slippery hazard that threatened to take down the entire group. Hana, meanwhile, seemed to view the raw ingredients as an all-you-can-eat buffet, surreptitiously taste-testing everything with the unwavering confidence of a toddler who hadn’t yet grasped the concept of food poisoning. And Jinny? Jinny attacked a block of tofu with the ferocity of a warrior facing their mortal enemy, the rhythmic thwack-thwack-thwack of her knife a bizarre soundtrack to the unfolding culinary catastrophe.

All the while, you—the aforementioned tired, overworked, and now marginally more caffeinated leader—navigated the swirling vortex of flour, spilled liquids, and near-miss kitchen fires, desperately trying to prevent your group from achieving peak immolation.

“Jinny, honey, not that burner—it’s on high! Wait, Hana, sweetie, that chicken is still… very much alive in its raw state—Nari! Watch your elbow! You’re going to take out Sera’s entire spice rack!”

The cameras, you knew, were capturing every single exasperated sigh, every soft-yet-desperate scolding, every pinched expression that screamed of impending parental breakdown. They probably had a close-up of the exact moment you held your head in your hand, wondering if early retirement to a remote island was a viable option.

Then there was ATEEZ. Across the studio, they operated with the smooth efficiency of a well-oiled machine. Seonghwa, in particular, moved with a quiet grace, offering calm instructions to his members, his hands deft as he chopped vegetables and seasoned dishes. Their plating was practically artistic. There was no fire. No bloodshed. Definitely no screaming.

You even swore you saw him offer a small, almost imperceptible smile as he calmly wiped down his pristine counter, a stark contrast to the sticky, oil-slicked battlefield that was VYRA’s station.

Disgusting. Utterly, enviably disgusting.

Hours later, after the chaotic filming finally wrapped and a surprisingly decent (and thankfully pre-cooked) dinner was served, the staff announced that everyone would have the rest of the evening off. Everyone… except the unlucky few who had the distinct honor of cleaning up the aftermath of the live cooking segment. The cleaning assignments, naturally, were to be decided by the ancient and universally dreaded game of rock-paper-scissors.

“Please, please, please let me win,” you silently begged your fickle luck as the final round commenced. You faced off against Nari, who, despite her innocent facade, possessed the competitive spirit of a honey badger.

You lost.

And, much to your quiet dismay (and a flicker of something unidentifiable), so did Seonghwa.

Which is how the two of you found yourselves standing side-by-side at an industrial-sized sink, elbow-deep in soapy water and surrounded by a mountain range of greasy pans, while eleven other idol children laughed and played a raucous game of charades just outside the studio doors, seemingly oblivious to the monumental task at hand.

“Remind me again why we willingly subject ourselves to this madness?” you asked, attacking a particularly stubborn patch of burnt soy sauce clinging to the bottom of a large pot.

“Because we love them,” Seonghwa replied, his voice a soft blend of fondness and utter exasperation. He scrubbed diligently at a baking sheet covered in what looked suspiciously like charcoal.

“…Right. Love,” you echoed dryly. “That old, reliable trap.”

He chuckled softly, the sound surprisingly warm in the otherwise sterile environment. “You’re definitely the dad of your group, aren’t you?”

You paused your scrubbing, considering his words. “Yeah,” you admitted with a sigh. “And you’re… their mom.”

A beat of comfortable silence hung between you, punctuated only by the clinking of dishes and the distant shouts of the playing idols. Then, a shared laugh bubbled up, surprising you both.

“They’re completely insane,” he said, shaking his head with a fond smile.

“The absolute worst,” you agreed vehemently, finally conquering the burnt soy sauce.

“But I wouldn’t trade them for anything,” he added quietly, his gaze softening as he glanced towards the group outside.

“…Me neither,” you said, your voice softer now, the earlier sarcasm fading.

You glanced at him then—really looked at him, beyond the initial impression of serene composure. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead cast a slight sheen on his slightly damp hair, a few strands falling across his forehead. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the lean muscles of his forearms as he worked. He looked… calm. Gentle. And, strangely, familiar, like an old friend you hadn’t realized you knew.

It was odd, this unexpected ease that had settled between you. Like the two of you had navigated countless greasy dish piles together in some past life. Like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t the only one carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken responsibilities, the only tired parent in this bizarre and demanding industry.

Outside, the joyful chaos of the eleven younger idols continued to echo through the evening air.

Inside, as suds clung to your wrists and a newly cleaned pot was passed between your hands, something else bloomed quietly in the shared exhaustion.

A sense of unexpected warmth. A feeling of quiet comfort.

And the very first, fragile glimmer of something that didn’t yet have a name, but felt strangely… promising.

It started with a scream.

Not a dramatic, stage kind of scream. It was a real one—sharp, panicked, and laced with actual pain. And it came from somewhere off camera.

"WOYOUNG!"

The live chat exploded, fans typing frantically as the camera shakily refocused, catching sight of a commotion near the obstacle course.

You were the first to move.

Instinct over logic, body already in motion. Your headset dropped to the floor. The apron you wore flapped behind you as you sprinted toward the sound.

Seonghwa was only seconds behind.

Wooyoung was sitting in the dirt, clutching his ankle. His face twisted, eyes squeezed shut, and he kept trying to wave everyone off—classic idol instinct. Hurt, but don’t show it.

“Yah, stop moving,” you said firmly, dropping to your knees beside him.

Seonghwa was already crouched on the other side, hands steady, voice calm. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Wooyoung winced. “I—I’m fine. It just twisted—”

“Fine my ass,” you muttered, eyes scanning the swelling ankle. You reached into your back pocket. “Hana, pass me the first aid pouch, now!”

The staff hadn’t even moved yet. Everyone else stood frozen—ATEEZ, VYRA, even the MCs.

But you and Seonghwa?

Already in full emergency parent mode.

Together, you rolled up Wooyoung’s pant leg. Seonghwa gently held his leg in place while you wrapped a cold pack around the ankle. Your movements were quick but careful.

“You’re breathing too fast,” Seonghwa said softly, brushing Wooyoung’s hair off his forehead. ��Slow it down, alright? Just follow me.”

The chat was no longer watching the survival show. They were watching you two. ➝ “YALL LOOK AT THEM???” ➝ “They didn’t even look at each other. Just knew what to do.” ➝ “Mom + Dad energy hitting like a truck.” ➝ “This is parenting, not teamwork.” ➝ “KQ really sent out two exhausted parents to supervise 11 toddlers 😭”

You glanced up at Seonghwa. He met your eyes for the briefest second.

And in that instant, something passed between you—unspoken, but powerful. Like a thread had tightened between your hearts.

You weren’t thinking about cameras. Or staff. Or fandoms. You were just worried about his hids, now yours too.

The stream cut moments later. KQ didn’t want to risk airing too much of the injury live.

Staff swooped in. Wooyoung was helped off the field, protesting the whole time, saying he was fine, waving like a drama queen despite the limp.

You stood off to the side, hands still cold from the ice pack, nerves fraying at the edges.

“He’ll be okay,” Seonghwa said gently, stepping closer. “The medics said it’s a mild sprain.”

“I know,” you murmured, but your arms were still crossed too tightly.

“You always go full dad when someone’s hurt?”

You looked up, raising an eyebrow. “You always go full mom?”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “I guess we’re just built this way.”

“Parent-coded idols, huh?” you mumbled.

“Mm,” he hummed in agreement, then added, “We make a good team.”

That stopped you.

You blinked up at him, heart doing something you were not ready to name yet.

“…Yeah,” you whispered, “we kinda do.”

Later, while VYRA and ATEEZ fussed over Wooyoung in the green room, you sat beside Seonghwa outside the building, sharing the rest of the lukewarm coffee he’d saved from earlier.

The cold air bit your nose. His jacket brushed against your arm.

You didn’t talk much.

You didn’t have to.

Because sometimes, being tired parents to a chaotic idol family was enough to pull two strangers together into something a little more like home.

LAST DAY

“San, you’re listing to port,” you declared, your voice a low murmur amidst the controlled chaos backstage. The boy in question blinked at you, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion, until you reached out a hand and gently straightened the errant mic pack clipped precariously to the back of his satin stage shirt. You gave the thin wire a slight, professional tug, ensuring it wouldn’t snag or pull under the intricate embroidery of his jacket, your movements more akin to a seasoned broadcast technician than a perpetually sleep-deprived idol leader.

San finally seemed to grasp the situation, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Sorry, Noona. I think Yeosang was trying to adjust it earlier…”

“Don’t move a muscle,” you warned, your own brow furrowed in concentration as you meticulously checked the connection. “If your mic cuts out again during the final performance, I am not sprinting across that entire Olympic-sized set just to fix it. I’ve already played human cable organizer twice today, and my personal best for the hundred-yard dash was years ago.”

Behind you, the red light of the cameras blinked intermittently, capturing snippets of the controlled pandemonium. It was the final day of the survival show broadcast, the air thick with a potent cocktail of nervous energy, lingering adrenaline, and the frantic last-minute preparations. Everyone, from the contestants to the exhausted staff, was buzzing with a chaotic pre-recording hum.

Meanwhile, across the bustling backstage area, Seonghwa was crouched beside the VYRA girls’ designated cooler, a picture of quiet attentiveness. He meticulously handed out chilled water bottles to each of your members, offering a soft word of encouragement to each. When he reached Jinny, who accepted the bottle with an enthusiastic bow, he lingered for a moment, gently patting the top of her head with a warm smile.

“Stay hydrated, okay, Jinny-ah?” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “You all worked incredibly hard today. You need to keep your energy up for the final stage.”

You observed the entire exchange from the corner of your eye as you meticulously tucked a small, slightly crumpled tissue into the sleeve of San’s jacket. He’d confessed earlier, in a moment of surprising vulnerability, that he “might cry again if they win,” and you, ever the prepared leader, weren’t taking any chances on a rogue tear ruining his stage makeup.

Seonghwa then glanced up, his gaze meeting yours across the sea of frantic activity. A faint, almost imperceptible twitch played at the corners of your lips.

That was your kid. Your loud, energetic, dance-obsessed menace of a kid. And he was just… patting her head like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he’d been tucking her into bed and making sure she drank enough water for years.

And you? Well, you were currently playing impromptu stylist/emotional support for a member of your rival group, ensuring his tear ducts wouldn’t betray him during a potentially emotional finale.

The live chat, you knew instinctively, was probably experiencing a collective meltdown. The notifications on a nearby staff member’s phone were already pinging with alarming frequency.

➝ “YALL THEY’RE LITERALLY TAKING CARE OF EACH OTHER’S KIDS NOW??” ➝ “Y/N just casually fixed San’s mic like she’s his personal tech support. And Hwa gave Jinny water and a HEAD PAT 😭 My heart!” ➝ “This is a FAMILY. A beautiful, chaotic, sleep-deprived FAMILY.” ➝ “Mom & Dad of KQ Nation officially confirmed. Someone needs to print the family portraits.” ➝ “Who’s gonna be the brave soul to break the news to them that they’re basically married in the eyes of the entire internet??”

It was utterly ridiculous. The situation was bordering on absurd. And yet… there was a strange, undeniable comfort in the easy camaraderie, the unspoken understanding that seemed to have blossomed between you and Seonghwa amidst the survival show madness. Maybe it was the shared exhaustion, the mutual understanding of the pressures and the fierce protectiveness you both felt for your respective groups. Or maybe… maybe it was something more.

By the time the final bows were taken, the confetti rained down in a celebratory shower, and the exhausted staff scrambled to cut the livestream, you were running on approximately three hours of sleep and a precarious three percent phone battery. The adrenaline was slowly draining away, leaving behind a heavy weariness that settled deep in your bones.

You’d just finished your customary double-check of your members’ backpacks – a surprisingly consistent inventory of two phones (one perpetually dead), one tangled charger, three oddly specific plushies, and one entire makeup pouch someone (you were looking at you, Jinny) had inevitably forgotten – when Seonghwa approached, his footsteps quiet amidst the post-show hubbub.

He held something concealed behind his back, his expression unreadable but the corners of his eyes crinkling with a soft, almost shy warmth.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle, a welcome contrast to the surrounding noise. “Can I… uh… borrow the tired dad for a sec?”

You blinked, the unexpected nickname causing a faint flush to creep up your neck. “I—uh. Yeah? Sure.”

He brought his hand out from behind his back, revealing a familiar can of your favorite soft drink – the ridiculously overpriced imported one you’d been lamenting the loss of three days ago when the vending machine had greedily swallowed your cash without dispensing the promised sugary goodness.

You stared at it, a wave of surprised warmth washing over you.

And then you noticed the small, brightly colored sticky note attached to the side.

You carefully peeled it off, your fingers slightly trembling. The neat handwriting read:

“For the tired dad who forgets to take care of herself too. — Hwa [xxx-xxx-xxxx]”

A soft, surprised laugh escaped your lips, a little breathless and utterly unexpected. “Seonghwa…”

He scratched the back of his neck, his ears just barely tinged with pink. “Thought you might need it. You looked… particularly done in. Also…” He hesitated, his gaze flicking around the emptying studio. “I meant to… you know… do this earlier, but uh. Didn’t exactly want to hand you my number with ten high-definition cameras pointed at our faces.”

You clutched the cool can a little tighter, the unexpected gesture causing a flutter in your chest. Your heart was doing a strange little dance against your ribs.

“Thanks,” you managed, your voice quiet, almost a whisper.

“You don’t… have to use it or anything,” he added quickly, his eyes widening slightly, as if suddenly regretting his boldness. “Just… if you ever need someone to, you know, scream about children with. Or… vent about the general absurdity of idol life.”

You looked down at the sticky note again, tracing the neat characters with your thumb. A genuine smile finally bloomed on your face, chasing away some of the lingering exhaustion.

Later that night, after the last of your members had finally succumbed to the siren call of sleep, the dorm room filled with the soft sounds of their gentle snores…

You carefully unlocked your phone, the screen illuminating your tired face in the dim light.

One new message. From an unknown number.

[unknown number] This drink slaps btw. You're lucky I like you enough to share. You stared at the message for a long moment, a small smile playing on your lips. You hesitated for a beat, then began to type. [you] You left your number just to insult me over a drink? Bold move, Seonghwa. The reply came almost instantly. [hwa] Bold? No. Flirty? Maybe. 😉 …Still feeling like a walking zombie, Dad? [you] Always. Comes with the territory. But… slightly less now. Thanks to the sugar rush. [hwa] Then that’s a win in my book. Get some rest. You deserve it. You leaned back against your pillow, the half-empty soda can resting on your nightstand. A surprising warmth had settled in your chest, chasing away some of the usual pre-sleep anxiety. Your phone buzzed again, the soft vibration a comforting presence in the quiet room. [hwa] Goodnight, tired dad. Text me if your kids make you cry. Or if you just want to complain about survival shows. I get it.

You smiled to yourself, a genuine, unguarded smile that reached your tired eyes. Texting Seonghwa hadn’t been part of the survival show script. It hadn’t been part of any plan at all.

But maybe, just maybe, navigating the chaotic landscape of idol parenting had finally led you to something – someone – you hadn’t even realized you needed. And for the first time in a long time, the thought didn’t feel quite so exhausting.

The digital thread between you and Seonghwa had become a constant in the two months since the survival show ended. A steady stream of late-night texts filled the quiet hours after your respective groups had finally crashed, a lifeline of shared anxieties, industry gripes, and surprisingly tender moments woven between the casual banter. You’d both become experts at deciphering the subtle nuances of each other’s messages, the unspoken understanding that bloomed in the digital space a comforting weight against the often-overwhelming reality of idol life.

ONE NIGHT

hwa [11:07 PM] The dorm’s eerily quiet tonight. Everyone’s out with Hongjoong, probably terrorizing some karaoke bar. You wanna come over? I have approximately three packets of extra ramen and a couch that doesn't threaten to collapse under the weight of my existential dread.

You stared at the message glowing on your phone screen from the sanctuary of your bed, a ridiculous grin tugging at your lips. Your own dorm room was a testament to the sleeping habits of four energetic young women, a tangled landscape of limbs and discarded blankets punctuated by soft snores. The air was surprisingly chilly despite the layers of bedding, and the silence felt… empty. You missed the easy companionship, the quiet understanding you’d found in your late-night digital exchanges with Seonghwa, a welcome contrast to the constant chatter about stage outfits, forgotten choreography, and the eternal mystery of the missing mic belt.

you [11:09 PM] Consider my weary self en route. Just point me towards the ramen and the non-judgmental couch.

Seonghwa’s dorm, a space you’d only glimpsed in passing during the survival show, held a surprisingly homey atmosphere. It smelled faintly of clean laundry and the unmistakable, comforting aroma of instant noodles, a scent that spoke of late nights and shared comfort.

He greeted you at the door, framed by the warm glow of the hallway light, looking impossibly soft in gray sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. His usually meticulously styled hair was adorably fluffy, and the weariness around his eyes seemed to melt away as he offered a small, genuine smile.

“You actually came,” he said, stepping aside to allow you entrance, a hint of surprised amusement in his voice.

You held up the small bag of convenience store snacks you’d grabbed on your way over like a peace offering. “I come bearing peace. And questionable nutritional choices.”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “And snacks. Clearly, you understand the ultimate love language.”

You gratefully sank onto the aforementioned non-judgmental couch, its cushions yielding with a sigh of relief. From the living room, you watched Seonghwa move around his surprisingly tidy kitchen, the soft clinking of dishes and the gentle hum of a melody you vaguely recognized filling the quiet space. He meticulously diced green onions on a small cutting board, his movements precise and surprisingly domestic.

“You’re far too good at this,” you called out, your voice slightly muffled by the plush cushions.

“At what, exactly?” he asked, leaning around the corner, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in playful inquiry.

“This,” you gestured vaguely with your hand. “The cooking. The hosting. The general air of domestic bliss that is frankly bordering on disgustingly sweet.”

He leaned against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you saying you’re finally succumbing to my charms, Dad?”

“Hard to say,” you teased, a familiar layer of playful sarcasm settling over the unexpected warmth you felt. “My primary love language is sarcasm and trauma bonding. We’re still in the early stages of deciphering this… connection.”

You heard his genuine laughter echo from the kitchen, a warm and deep sound that chased away the last vestiges of the day’s stress.

By the time the fragrant aroma of steaming kimchi ramen filled the living room, you found yourself sniffling rather loudly. The dorm was warmer now, but a persistent chill seemed to have settled in your bones.

“You okay?” Seonghwa asked, a concerned frown creasing his brow as he approached, carefully carrying two steaming bowls.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. “Just… a little cold, I guess.”

He glanced at your thin spring jacket hanging over the back of the chair. “You’re wearing a glorified windbreaker in the middle of December.” He set the bowls down on the coffee table with a sigh, disappearing into his bedroom before you could even offer a weak defense of your questionable outerwear choices.

He returned moments later, holding a familiar oversized hoodie – his hoodie, the one he often wore during late-night practice sessions – and a soft black beanie. Before you could even formulate a protest, he was gently tugging the hoodie over your head, the familiar scent of fresh cotton and a hint of his signature cologne enveloping you in a comforting embrace. Then came the beanie, carefully pulled down over your messy bun.

“Don’t even think about arguing,” he muttered, his voice laced with a surprising amount of concern. “You’ll get sick, and I’m not dealing with a sniffling, miserable leader. My sanity is already hanging by a thread thanks to my own chaotic children.”

You blinked up at him, now practically drowning in the soft, oversized fabric of his hoodie. It felt strangely… right. And warm. Incredibly warm.

“…Thanks, Mom,” you said softly, the nickname slipping out almost unconsciously.

He deadpanned, but a hint of a smile played on his lips. “Keep calling me that, and you’re getting two bowls of soup. And maybe a lecture on appropriate winter attire.”

You beamed, the warmth spreading beyond just the hoodie. “So romantic.”

You were halfway through your bowl of delicious, spicy ramen, your earlier chill completely forgotten as you regaled Seonghwa with the latest hilarious (and slightly disastrous) dance practice bloopers involving Jinny, a rogue rolling chair, and an unfortunate encounter with a strategically placed speaker, when the front door of the dorm slammed open with a resounding bang.

“HYUNG I LEFT MY –“

Wooyoung’s boisterous voice abruptly cut off mid-sentence.

So did you, your spoon frozen halfway to your mouth, a stray noodle dangling precariously.

So did Seonghwa, his eyes widening slightly as he turned towards the doorway, a look of dawning horror slowly spreading across his face.

Because there you were: curled up comfortably on his couch, practically swimming in his oversized hoodie, holding a spoon mid-air like a startled deer, your messy bun completely hidden under his black beanie, your cheeks flushed a delicate pink from the warmth of the soup and the shared laughter.

Yeosang peered cautiously around Wooyoung’s broad shoulder, his eyes widening in surprise.

Then Mingi, ever the dramatic one, gasped audibly as he stepped into the living room.

Followed by San, who simply stood there, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face.

An awkward silence descended upon the small living room, thick enough to cut with a butter knife.

And then—

“OH MY GOD,” Mingi shrieked, pointing a dramatic finger in your direction. “ARE YOU—ARE YOU WEARING HYUNG’S CLOTHES?!”

“No way…” Wooyoung looked back and forth between the two of you, his expression a mixture of disbelief and utter scandal. “NOONA, YOU—YOU’VE SOMEHOW DOMESTICATED OUR MOM. I DIDN’T THINK IT WAS POSSIBLE.”

“I— This isn’t— It’s just— I was cold!” You shot up from the couch, nearly sending your bowl of soup flying, your cheeks now burning with a completely different kind of heat. “He was just being… hospitable!”

“Oh, it is,” San said, smugly crossing his arms, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Look at you, all cozy in Hyung’s favorite hoodie. You’ve been claimed.”

Seonghwa covered his face with one hand, a low groan escaping his lips. The tips of his ears were now a shade of pink that had likely never before been documented by scientific research.

“I think I’m going to spontaneously combust from embarrassment,” he muttered from behind his hand.

“You’re not even denying it!” Yeosang pointed out, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Mingi, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with suppressed excitement. “I officially ship it. #TiredParentsUnite.”

You made your hasty retreat approximately twenty minutes later, Seonghwa’s oversized hoodie still clinging to you like a warm, comforting security blanket. Your heart was still doing a frantic tap dance in your chest, and your mind was a whirlwind of mortification and a surprising amount of… warmth.

As you slipped through the back entrance of your own dorm building, hoping to avoid any late-night encounters with your own inquisitive members, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

[hwa] I’m never hearing the end of this. They’re already making memes. [you] You mean OUR kids saw us being perfectly normal human beings and completely lost their minds? Can’t imagine why. Maybe it’s a generational thing. [hwa] You still cold? [you] A little. But your hoodie is doing a valiant job of keeping the arctic winds at bay. [hwa] Keep it. It suits you more anyways. Plus, I have like five more. [you] That’s… dangerously close to actual flirting, Seonghwa. Are you feeling alright? Should I call a medic? [hwa] Maybe. Maybe being around you is making me soft. Don’t tell anyone. Goodnight, Dad. Sleep tight. You stood in the dimly lit hallway of your dorm, the soft fabric of his hoodie pulled over your hands, your eyes locked on the screen of your phone. A silly, contented smile stretched across your face. [you] Okay, Mom. Sleep tight. And try not to let your children post too many embarrassing photos of us online.

Your heart swelled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the stolen hoodie. Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected detour into something more than friendship was exactly what two perpetually tired leaders needed.

Three weeks had drifted by in a hazy blur of promotion schedules, dance practices, and the lingering remnants of a stubborn cold that seemed determined to take up permanent residence in your sinuses. Seonghwa’s hoodie had become your unofficial uniform, a soft, comforting shield against the persistent chills and the general weariness of being a perpetually tired idol leader. Late-night texts with Seonghwa remained your quiet solace, filled with gentle teasing and the unspoken understanding that bloomed in the digital space.

And then there was Nari. Your seemingly innocent maknae, who possessed the chaotic energy of a sugar-fueled squirrel and a Wi-Fi connection that was clearly a weapon in disguise.

It was a rare, blessedly quiet Sunday afternoon. Your members were out on individual schedules, a small mercy that allowed you to fully indulge in the emotional afterglow of your recent yet not so recent soup-and-softness extravaganza at Seonghwa’s dorm. You were burrowed deep into the comforting embrace of his oversized grey hoodie, a steaming mug of honey and lemon tea clutched in your hands, when your phone buzzed with a notification. Nari had posted a new Instagram story.

You didn’t see it immediately. You were too busy contemplating the profound comfort of stolen hoodies and the surprisingly domestic side of Seonghwa. Seven blissful, oblivious minutes ticked by.

Unfortunately, in the hyper-connected world of K-Pop fandoms, seven minutes was an eternity.

Your phone began to vibrate insistently against the arm of the couch, a relentless barrage of notifications flooding your screen. Confused, you finally unlocked it and tapped on the first notification. It was a screenshot of Nari’s story, reposted by a fan account with multiple wide-eyed emojis.

@ officialnari_ 🎥: [a slightly shaky, endearingly lazy pan of the VYRA dorm living room] 📍: VYRA Dorm 🎶: “Love Me Like That” (a soft, instrumental version playing in the background) 👤: You, curled up on the couch like a sleepy bear in an oversized grey hoodie, occasionally sipping from a mug Caption: “Our tired dad in hibernation mode 🐻💤”

And that was it. Innocent enough, right? Wrong. So, so wrong.

The hoodie? Unmistakably Seonghwa’s. The specific shade of grey, the slightly worn cuffs – eagle-eyed fans had already cross-referenced it with multiple blurry airport photos and behind-the-scenes clips.

The background? A fleeting glimpse of the black beanie perched precariously on your head, the very same beanie that had been a permanent fixture on Seonghwa’s head during the survival show and, more recently, seemed to have migrated to your possession.

And just for good measure, as the camera panned, your delicate silver necklace caught the light – the very same necklace that sharp-eyed ATINYs had recently spotted dangling from Seonghwa’s rearview mirror in a VLIVE, a detail that had already sparked a flurry of speculative tweets.

The fandom? Had officially detonated. It was less a calm discussion and more a full-scale internet meltdown.

@ theatinyspy NOT. HER. IN. THE. HOODIE. I REPEAT. NOT. HER. IN. THE. HOODIE. THIS IS BEYOND A COINCIDENCE. AND THE BEANIE TOO?! NARI YOU LITTLE— NARI JUST SOFT-DROPPED AN ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP LIKE IT WAS A CASUAL TUESDAY. @ vyra_vigilante THEY’RE SHARING CLOTHES. SHARING. CLOTHES. THIS IS BEYOND FRIENDSHIP. THIS IS… THIS IS SHARING INTIMATE APPAREL. I BET THEY’RE SHARING SOULS. AND MAYBE RAMEN. @ seongflirted This isn’t a soft launch, besties. This is a FULL-BLOWN, HIGH-DEFINITION, CINEMATIC ROLLOUT. NARI IS A MENACE AND I AM HERE FOR IT. @ kqtea_anon We. BEEN. Knew. The signs were there. The stolen glances, the shared exhaustion, the way they looked at each other during the emergency. But DAMN. This is blatant.

Your phone continued its relentless buzzing, each notification a fresh wave of internet chaos washing over you.

Your group chat, meanwhile, had also erupted.

nari UNNIE I—I DIDN’T KNOW THAT WAS HIS HOODIE. I SWEAR ON MY ENTIRE K-POP COLLECTION. I HONESTLY THOUGHT IT WAS ONE OF YOUR OVERSIZED ONES??? you Nari. It smells distinctly of Seonghwa’s cologne. HOW did you mistake that? nari YOU… YOU SMELL YOUR HOODIES?? That’s… kinda weird, Unnie. But also… understandable. jinny YOU POSTED UNNIE IN SEONGHWA SUNBAENIM’S CLOTHES ON YOUR PUBLIC INSTAGRAM STORY?? Girl, you just outed the nation’s favorite tired parents to the entire internet. 😭 nari I’M DELETING THE STORY. I’M DEACTIVATING MY ACCOUNT. I’M GOING TO LIVE IN A CAVE WITH NO WIFI. sera Honey, the digital horse has bolted, taken a joyride on TikTok, and is now being dissected frame by frame on Twitter. It’s already on Part 3 of a comprehensive timeline breakdown, complete with zoomed-in screenshots and fan theories.

With a groan, you finally gave in and called Seonghwa.

He picked up on the second ring, his voice carrying a weary sigh. “So, we’re trending again.”

You flopped backwards onto your bed, the soft weight of his hoodie a strange comfort amidst the rising panic. “How mad are you? On a scale of one to ‘I’m going to hide in the practice room until the end of time’?”

“I’m not… mad,” he said slowly, a hint of amusement lacing his tone. “Just… processing the fact that my fans now know what my favorite hoodie looks like from approximately three different highly pixelated angles. And they seem to have opinions on how good it looks on you.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. “Do I… do I need to return it immediately under the cover of darkness?”

“I think I made it pretty clear last time that it’s yours now,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “Besides… are you still feeling a bit under the weather?”

“Hmm… a little,” you admitted, sniffling softly.

“Take care, tired dad,” he said, the nickname now carrying a familiar warmth. “Besides… you actually do look better in my clothes.”

A blush crept up your neck. “…Was that… a flirt, Seonghwa?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a definite smirk in his voice now.

“Dangerous,” you murmured, pulling the hoodie further around you.

“You’re worth the risk,” he said, the words hanging in the air between you, a tangible shift in the playful banter.

Later that night, as you and Seonghwa were both navigating the crowded hallways of KQ Entertainment to talk in peace, a familiar staff member walked past. You both instinctively froze, a guilty awareness hanging between you.

She simply smirked, gave you a knowing thumbs up, and continued on her way, leaving you both slightly stunned.

@ vyra_4lyfe: ((groupchat of the 5))

sera: GUYS. Even KQ staff are in on it now. It’s officially OVER. I SAW IT WITH MY OWN TWO EYES. THE THUMBS UP OF CONFIRMATION.

-- 8 months later

If the internet had a collective nervous system, it just experienced a full-blown, system-wide shock. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could ignite the online world quite like the potent combination of a man unexpectedly uttering a term of endearment and a tragically forgotten mute button.

The LIVE had started with the casual, comfortable vibe of a late-night dorm chat. Sera and Hana, looking endearingly rumpled in oversized pajamas and sporting the kind of barefaced beauty that only idols could pull off, were sprawled on the living room couch, scrolling through fan comments and answering questions with sleepy honesty.

“Okay,” Sera said, squinting at the rapidly scrolling comments on her phone, “favorite hair colors we’ve had so far—go!”

“Blonde,” Hana answered instantly, stretching languidly. “But only if I’m not the one dealing with the bleach aftermath. My scalp still holds a grudge.”

You, meanwhile, were blissfully and utterly unaware of the impending digital tsunami you were about to unleash. Your arms were straining under the weight of two overflowing grocery bags, a precarious balancing act that required you to nudge the dorm room door open with your foot. Your phone was wedged awkwardly between your shoulder and cheek as you juggled keys and groceries.

“…No, I definitely got the spicy tteokbokki you wanted, and those weirdly addictive yogurt drinks you’re obsessed with,” you mumbled into the phone, finally managing to kick the door open and stumble inside, the keys clattering onto the kitchen counter. “Wait a minute—are these even the right brand of salted caramel chips? You’re very particular about your sodium intake, apparently.”

At the sound of your voice, Sera’s head swiveled around, her eyes widening slightly. Hana, who had been mid-yawn, blinked in your direction, a flicker of curiosity in her sleepy gaze. And then, the live chat started to notice the unexpected guest. The comments began to scroll faster, a flurry of question marks and excited whispers appearing on Sera’s screen.

And then, Hwa’s voice echoed through your phone’s speaker, clear as day in the sudden quiet of the dorm room.

“It’s fine, baby. You always take care of me anyway.”

Silence descended upon the living room. A heavy, pregnant silence that stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

You froze mid-step, your eyes widening in dawning horror as you stared at Sera and Hana, who were now staring back at you with expressions of utter, abject shock.

Sera’s jaw literally dropped open, her phone clutched forgotten in her hand.

Hana’s hand flew up to clamp over her mouth, her eyes wide saucers of disbelief.

The live viewers? Had collectively lost their ever-loving minds. The comment section on Sera’s phone transformed into a digital explosion of pure, unadulterated chaos.

🧡 COMMENT SECTION 💬: @ atinybrainrot: BABY?????????????????????? DID I HEAR THAT RIGHT???????? @ vyraxchaos: “YOU ALWAYS TAKE CARE OF ME ANYWAY”?????????? SIR???????? MA’AM???????? WHAT IS GOING ON???????? @ momndadupdates: THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. THIS. IS. NOT. A. DRILL. CODE ROMANCE. CODE ROMANCE. ALL HANDS ON DECK.

You lunged towards your phone like it was a ticking time bomb about to detonate the last vestiges of your carefully guarded privacy. “I—I gotta call you back—something just came up—”

“Did I say something—?” Hwa’s confused voice echoed from the speaker just as your finger slammed down on the end call button.

Dead silence.

Then—

“BRO.” Sera’s voice was a low, disbelieving whisper.

“YOU JUST SOFT-LAUNCHED YOURSELF,” Hana choked out between suppressed giggles, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and amusement.

“ON LIVE,” Sera added for emphasis, her gaze glued to the rapidly escalating comments on her phone.

Your face flushed a shade of crimson that could rival a summer sunset. “Tell me you weren’t live. Please, for the love of all that is holy, tell me you accidentally ended the live five minutes ago.”

Sera slowly turned the phone screen towards you, the bright light illuminating her stunned expression.

Hana, unable to contain herself any longer, dissolved into a fit of silent laughter, clutching her stomach as she nearly slid off the couch.

“Not only were we very much live,” Sera wheezed, her voice trembling with suppressed hysteria, “but there were approximately eighty thousand people who just heard your… significant other… affectionately refer to you as ‘baby.’ On speakerphone. For all the world to hear.”

You collapsed onto the floor, the grocery bags thudding softly beside you, your face buried in your hands. The weight of the internet’s collective gasp felt surprisingly heavy.

Within minutes, the inevitable clips began to circulate across all social media platforms, immortalizing your accidental reveal for eternity.

🎥: [a shaky fan recording of Sera and Hana’s live, the audio clipping slightly as Hwa’s voice booms through the speaker

Caption: “POV: you were just trying to hear Sera talk about her questionable hair dye choices and accidentally stumbled upon the biggest K-Pop relationship reveal of the decade.”

🎥: [a cleverly edited video of you walking into the dorm, Hwa’s voice echoing dramatically over slow-motion footage]

🎶: background music = “Can’t Help Falling In Love” (a melancholic lofi version)

Text overlay: “You always take care of me anyway.” The caption simply read: “It was always him.”

You finally managed to peel your face out of your hands long enough to furiously type a message to Seonghwa in all caps.

you YOU CALLED ME BABY. ON A LIVE BROADCAST. IN FRONT OF EIGHTY THOUSAND PEOPLE. ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK? His reply was infuriatingly nonchalant. hwa …did I? 🤔 My memory is a little hazy after practice. you SEONGHWA. YOU KNOW YOU DID. THE ENTIRE INTERNET NOW KNOWS MY PET NAME. MY INTIMATE, EMBARRASSING PET NAME. hwa Oops? 😉 Guess the secret’s officially out of the bag, huh? So… wanna just go official and get it over with? Save us both the future accidental reveals? Your breath hitched in your throat. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your mind racing. you Seriously? Right now? After I just became the most embarrassing meme on Twitter?

His reply was surprisingly tender, cutting through your panic with a gentle certainty.

hwa Only if you want to, baby. No pressure. But… I kind of like the sound of it.

It had been four days of absolute chaos.

Edits. Memes. Fan theories. One 45-minute compilation titled “Evidence That Seonghwa & [Y/N] Have Been Married Since 2019.” Even Dispatch was quiet—probably out of fear.

But you and Hwa? Radio silent.

Until now.

Instagram Post: @ starhwa ➝ 2 photos:

A blurry selfie—both of you wrapped in scarves, smiling like you had a secret. A clearer one—him holding the camera while you lean into his shoulder, warm cheeks, windblown hair, eyes full of something soft. Caption: found comfort in each other. 🫶🏻

Instagram Post: @ yourusername ➝ 3 photos:

Hwa sleeping on the couch hugging your plushie. Two mugs, hands overlapping. A mirror pic with his arm around your waist. Caption: same storm. same shelter.

📢 KQ Entertainment Official Statement: “We kindly ask fans for support and understanding as Seonghwa and [Y/N] build something meaningful while continuing to prioritize their careers and responsibilities. Thank you.”

The internet? SHAKING.

💬 Comment Section Highlights:

@ atinyupdates: WE BEEN KNEW AND WE BEEN ROOTING 😭 @ vyrahearts: ‘same storm, same shelter’???? get out I’m SOBBING @ multi4life: Honestly the healthiest idol couple rollout I’ve seen @ shxxwifeclub: THEY'RE SO SOFT FOR EACH OTHER I CAN’T DO THIS

But of course, haters had to try it.

Didn’t last long.

When a random troll commented, “They’re ruining the group image smh 🙄”

Nari replied: “Ruining what? Love? Couldn’t be me.”

And then reposted one of the photos on her story with the caption:

“We told y’all mom & dad were real.”

Wooyoung went live later that day, cackling. “Y’all mad? Go eat soup or something. Our parents are in love. Let them LIVE.” He zoomed in on his face. “And if you’re pressed about it… maybe ask yourself why your love life is dry and theirs is thriving.”

That night, your phone lit up with a message.

hwa [12:34 AM] People know now. Feels kinda nice. I don’t have to pretend anymore. you [12:35 AM] Pretend what? hwa [12:36 AM] That you’re just someone I see on stage. When really, you’re the one I see in every quiet moment after.

Wondering 'OMG WHEN DID HE CONFESS?! NO CONFESSION?! NO DAMN CONFESSION KATHA?!'[I was a bit carried away. Not 'BIT' i was totally carried away. I love y'll!]

Well here's a flash back then ;)

-- 8 months back BEFORE a few week's before the 'sera's live incident' [A music award show]

The music was loud. The lights were blinding. But your heartbeat? That was the loudest of all.

You paced backstage, still in costume, nerves fraying like the hem of your sleeve. Your group had just finished a killer performance, but it didn’t matter—because he hadn’t said more than two words to you all day.

And you didn’t know why.

Well, okay. You thought you knew why.

The stares. The lingering touches. The way he’d gone quiet every time you got too close.

Something had changed. And if you were right, tonight would either fix everything… or break it.

You spun on your heel, ready to storm back into the green room— And slammed straight into Seonghwa.

“Whoa—hey.” His hands caught your arms, steadying you. “Sorry.”

You blinked up at him. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

His jaw tightened, eyes darting to the hallway like he was making a choice in real-time.

“Come with me,” he said, voice low.

He led you into a quieter corner of the dressing room, near the costume racks. You could still hear the staff moving around, the muffled chaos of two fandoms waiting outside. But here, it was just you and him.

“Seonghwa, what’s going on?”

He hesitated—then exhaled sharply, like the truth had been waiting at the edge of his throat for weeks.

“I’ve been trying not to ruin this,” he began.

You stared.

“You’ve always made me feel safe,” he said, softer now. “Even when I’m stressed. Even when I’m overthinking. You—” he laughed, almost bitterly. “You’d crack some joke and I’d remember how to breathe again.”

“Hwa…”

“I didn’t think someone like you would like someone like me,” he admitted, voice wavering. “But I can’t—” He paused, swallowed, then looked you dead in the eye. “I’m in love with you.”

Silence.

Then:

“I’ve been in love with you.”

It was messy. It was rushed. It was everything.

And before you could overthink it, you grabbed the front of his jacket and kissed him.

It was like a spark finally found the fuse.

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your jaw, the kiss deepening as months of tension and late-night messages came crashing together in one perfect, stupid, wonderful moment—

“—OH MY GOD.”

You broke apart.

In the doorway: Two stylists, one manager, and Wooyoung holding a tray of vitamin drinks.

Everyone froze.

Except Wooyoung. Who dropped the tray and screamed, “I KNEW IT!”

You and Seonghwa stared at each other, wide-eyed and breathless.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?” you whispered back.

“For kissing you in front of our entire tour staff.”

From the hallway came Nari’s voice: “Wait—WHO’S KISSING WHO—”

Seonghwa winced. “Okay. Maybe I am sorry.”

You just laughed, forehead pressed to his.

-- The End <3

502 notes · View notes

magnetic-rose · 1 year ago

Text

i guess my gripe with people who are just writing off the tv show as lore-breaking and bad without watching it is that the show itself actually addresses a lot of the complaints that fandom always makes and people are instead taking information out of context to rage bait about it.

"why isn't civilization advancing" it WAS advancing! shady sands was a beautiful city with thriving crops and a bus system. it got burned down because vault tech is not interested in letting civilization advance on their own terms.

"why can't fallout ever be hopeful" the season ends with infinite renewable energy being implemented into the world so that society can finally start healing and advancing. it's just currently at the hands of the wrong people.

"why does bethesda hate the NCR and have such a boner for the brotherhood" this one makes me laugh because the show portrays the NCR as ultimately the ones who are really trying to help the world in meaningful ways and it portrays the brotherhood as these big cultish losers who are obsessed with the past. the show even points out that their obsession with the past makes no sense.

"why was shady sands nuked in 2277" it wasn't. it started to DECLINE in 2277 and eventually it got nuked at a later date.

"why is everyone on the surface portrayed as savages" because lucy is the POV character and that's how she initially sees them. she was literally raised to be a colonizer and her view eventually gets challenged first with the inhabitants of vault 4 and then when moldaver explains to her the real history of shady sands and her father's involvement with the state of the world.

#fallout #fallout spoilers

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thedilfdiaries · 9 months ago

Text

Escapism

Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 5,733

Summary: The grumpy Joel, one bed, who did that to you trope fic no one asked for/ Ellie matchmaking for Joel

Warnings: 18+, smut, joels a grump, ellie's there, reader experiences a tiny bit of ptsd from being captured prior to meeting joel and ellie.

Notes: Ty to @evolnoomym for the moodboard and beta reading and @syd-djarin & @joelslegalwhre for the beta read. and @saradika-graphics for the divider.

The world changed in the blink of an eye. Civilization, with all its comforts and securities, crumbled under the weight of a relentless pandemic. The infected roam the earth, their minds and bodies ravaged by a virus that turns them into mindless, ravenous creatures. Humanity, once the masters of their domain, is now just another prey in a landscape that has turned savagely against them.

You are on your own for months, ever since the virus claimed your sister and the raiders took everything else. Your husband and son, Ethan, are lost to the chaos, leaving you with nothing but the clothes on your back, a backpack filled with meager supplies, and a book - "No Pun Intended: Volume 1" - a cherished memento of a life that once was.

The days blur into a testament to your will to live. You scavenge for food, avoid the infected, and keep moving, always moving. The world is a graveyard of memories, and you are just another ghost haunting its ruins.

As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you find yourself in the remnants of a once-bustling town. The buildings stand like skeletons, their windows shattered, their doors hanging off their hinges. It is here, in this desolate place, that you decide to make camp for the night.

You choose a spot behind an overturned bus, its rusted shell providing a modicum of shelter. You gather what little dry wood you can find and build a small fire. The can of beans you scavenged earlier in the day heats slowly, the metallic smell mingling with the scent of smoke and decay that seems to permeate everything.

As you wait for your meal, you allow yourself a rare moment of stillness. The book lies open in your lap, its pages a portal to a time when puns and laughter were the greatest concerns of the day. You are so lost in the world of words that you almost don't hear the low growl that signals the approach of danger.

It happens in a heartbeat. One moment you are alone, the next an infected lunges at you from the shadows, its bloodshot eyes and snarling mouth a terrifying vision of death. You have no time to react, no time to defend yourself. The creature pins you to the ground, its fetid breath hot against your face.

Panic surges through your veins, a scream lodges in your throat. Darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, and you brace yourself for the end. But then, the deafening crack of a gunshot splits the air. The weight of the infected creature collapses onto you, its lifeless body trapping you beneath its bulk.

For a moment, time stands still. You lie there, stunned and gasping for breath, the world around you reduced to the pounding of your heart and the ringing in your ears. Then, as quickly as the nightmare has descended, the weight is lifted from your body. You scramble backward, your hands and knees scraping against the rough ground, until you reach the sanctuary of your sleeping bag.

Looking up, you are met with the imposing figure of a large, rugged man. His rifle is still smoking from the shot that has saved your life. His eyes, hard and suspicious, bore into you as he demands, "You bit?”

Your hands shoot up in surrender, tears threatening to spill as you vehemently shake your head. "Please don't shoot, I- I wasn't bit," you plead, your voice quivering with fear.

The man nudges his gun towards you, his voice gruff as he commands, "Get up slowly."

You rise to your feet, hands still raised, and perform a slow pirouette to prove your uninfected state. Satisfied, he lowers his weapon.

"I totally could have done that," a smaller, younger girl boasts as she steps out from behind him. His daughter, you presume, exudes a mix of bravado and youthful naivety.

"I told you to stay in the woods," He chides her.

The girl ignores her father's reprimand, instead, bounding over to your belongings. "No fucking way!" she exclaims, holding up a book that clearly means something to you. "No Pun Intended - the first volume." She chuckles, turning to the burly man. "Can you believe it?"

You rush over, snatching the book from her hands. "That was my -" Emotion chokes your words as you clutch the book, a tangible piece of your past. "It was my sister's," you manage to say, hastily stowing the book in your bag.

The man surveys your camp, his expression a mix of concern and disapproval. "Ya know it ain't safe to be camping out in the open like this," he remarks. You follow his gaze, taking in the vulnerability of your setup, and release a heavy sigh. "I - I know. There used to be more of us - a group. We traveled together, always finding safer places to go. But now - now I'm on my own, alone and..." Your voice trails off as you turn away, taking a seat by the dwindling fire. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not gonna survive too long out here alone. It's only a matter of time. If you weren't here, I'd have been dead already. But thank you for your help. Help yourselves to some food, I don't have much else to offer you."

Abruptly, the girl's head bobs up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Come with us, oh yeah, it's going to be a blast. Finally, another girl around here!" Her voice rings out with a mix of eagerness and camaraderie.

"Ellie, quiet!" the man snaps, then pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, a clear sign of mounting frustration. "We don't have the space for anyone else."

You stand by, a silent observer, as the man and his daughter, Ellie, butt heads over the possibility of taking you with them.

"You're just going to leave her here alone," Ellie emphasizes, her voice sharp as a knife, "to die? Come on, Joel." Her plea hangs in the air, reminiscent of someone who's just found a stray puppy and can't bear to leave it behind.

Joel's gaze flickers to you as if searching for a reason to abandon you. He heaves a sigh so heavy it seems to carry the weight of the world. He turns back to Ellie, frustration etched on his face, then looks at you once more. "You have five minutes to pack your things, and then we're leavin’. With or without you." With that, he strides off into the thicket of trees, leaving Ellie behind with a look that speaks volumes of his exasperation.

"Sorry, he's not always so grumpy... well, actually, he is," Ellie admits with a sheepish grin. "Don't mind Joel; he's just set in his ways. I'm Ellie, by the way."

You can't help but giggle, kneeling down to gather your belongings. "It's nice to meet you, Ellie," you say, your voice tinged with a mix of relief and curiosity. "But why do you call your dad by his name?"

"I ain't her dad," Joel's voice cuts in, as he reemerges leading a horse by the reins.

"He's not my dad," they echo each other, their voices intertwining in a strange harmony.

"Oh," you reply, hurriedly stuffing your meager possessions into your sister's old backpack—a white and black checkered bag adorned with random sunflowers. You hoist the thick black straps over your shoulders and roll up your sleeping bag, tucking it under your arm. Rising to your feet, you dust off your flared blue jeans. "Sorry, I could have sworn you two were related, the way you bicker like that."

Ellie nudges Joel with her elbow, a playful smirk on her face. "It's just Joel. He's old and cranky."

Joel stands there, stoic and unamused, the reins held firmly in his grip. "Need to find shelter before nightfall," he declares, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Why can't we just stay here?" You ask, genuine curiosity lacing your words.

"The fact that you almost got killed by one of those things, and you couldn't even hear it creeping up on you, should make it pretty damn clear why not," Joel retorts, his voice rising as he gesticulates wildly, emphasizing the danger lurking in the shadows.

"Be fucking nice, Joel!" Ellie interjects, smacking his arm with back of her hand.

"I am being very nice by lettin’ her come with us. Now why ain’t we movin’?" he asks.

"I have no idea where we're going, lead the way, cowboy."

"Actually, Joel was a contractor before this, super cool, right?"

You can't help but laugh. "Yeah, totally."

"What's so funny?" Joel asks, his brow furrowing as the three of you begin to navigate the rugged terrain.

"You actually managed to make being a contractor sound like the epitome of cool to young Ellie here?"

Joel's patience wears thin. "Can we all just keep quiet until we find a place to hole up for the night?"

Ellie clears her throat, her curiosity piqued. "So, what's the story with your group?"

"Ellie, you don't go asking people you just met that stuff." Joel snapped.

You let out a soft chuckle, the memory of your past still vivid. "It's alright. My sister got bitten. I had to...you know, in the middle of the night." The weight of that memory tugs at your heartstrings. "My husband and son, Ethan, they were killed by raiders who tried to overrun our camp. They took me captive, but I managed to escape. And now, here I am." You pause, the chilling recollection making you shudder. You shake off the dark thoughts, not wanting to dwell on them now.

Ellie offers a sympathetic smile, and you catch the hint of one on Joel's face too. "That's rough. I'm really sorry that happened to you," Ellie says, her voice gentle.

"Thanks, Ellie," you murmur, your gaze falling to your boots, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment washing over you.

You look up at Joel, who seems to be wrestling with his own thoughts. "So, where are we actually heading?"

He takes a moment, staring off into the distance before heaving a sigh and meeting your eyes. "My brother and his wife are part of a large group just north of here. We can make it there. It's not far—a couple of days' travel at most."

"We should find a spot to camp soon. It's getting dark," Joel suggests, scanning the surroundings.

With the three of you working in unison, the camp comes together quickly in the shelter of the woods, hidden from any unwelcome eyes.

"Wanna get the fire going?" Joel asks, kneeling on the ground and rummaging through his bag. He extends his hand to you, offering a small amount of kindling and a pack of matches.

"Uh, sure," you reply, your voice tinged with uncertainty. The truth is, you're still pretty green in this post-apocalyptic world, and tasks like starting a fire are always more challenging than they seem.

You step forward and accept the kindling and matches from Joel, then set to work. Carefully, you arrange the kindling, trying to remember the techniques you've been taught. You strike the first match, the flame flickering to life. With trembling hands, you bring it close to the kindling, only for the wind to snuff it out.

"Shit," you mutter, hoping no one noticed. You try again, but the result is the same. On the third attempt, you realize Joel has been observing you all along. Each failed attempt makes him wince. Finally, on the fourth match, he's seen enough.

Joel stands abruptly and strides over to you. He takes the matches and kindling from your hands and, in one swift motion, ignites the fire. "Just go set up your sleeping bag," he says, a sigh of exasperation escaping him as he avoids your gaze. The sting of being a burden weighs heavily on you.

You rise slowly and move toward your sleeping bag and backpack, which are nestled beside a tree just off to the side of where Joel and Ellie are sitting. You drag your things closer to the newly lit fire and spread out your sleeping bag. As you search through your bag, you pull out a small handgun and begin to load it.

"Whoa, cool!" Ellie exclaims, bounding over to you and eyeing the gun with interest.

"It was my husband's," you tell her as you finish loading the weapon. "I'm going to get us something to eat." With your bag slung over your shoulder, you head toward the edge of the camp. But before you can leave, a hand grips your upper arm, halting your progress.

You turn to face Joel's frustrated expression. "No, absolutely not. You can't even start a damn fire. How are you going to shoot us something to eat?" he challenges.

You pull your arm free, determination flashing in your eyes. "I can handle it myself. I did fine before you came along, and I'll do fine after you're gone." You resume your course, but Joel isn't done yet.

"I'm not letting you go out there alone. I saved you once; you don't get another chance," he calls after you.

You turn back, extracting your arm from his grasp for the last time. "I didn't ask for your saving or help. You have no obligations to me. Thank you for saving me once, but I don't need it again." With that, you continue into the dense woods, leaving Joel standing there, conflicted. He returns to the camp, muttering to himself, "Fuck sakes. You stay here. Don't fucking move. I'm not in the mood to save two of you today." He grabs his rifle and follows you into the woods, the setting sun casting long shadows across the forest floor.

A few moments later, he hears your gun go off, and panic starts to seize him.

After about five minutes, he finds you huddled over something, "What the hell? You can't just go shooting your gun off like that. Raiders, fucking infected, someone's gonna find us." His voice is laced with urgency.

As he approaches, he sees you covered in blood, and fear races through him. But then he realizes it's not your blood. You've actually killed a deer.

You turn around to see Joel standing near you, his expression a mix of relief and irritation.

"So now what? You even know how to skin it?" Joel challenges.

You shake your head, "No."

"What was your plan then? To just try and drag it by yourself back to camp?" He's exasperated, but there's a hint of concern beneath his gruff exterior.

You shrug, admitting your inexperience. You've always known you're not very good at hunting, but the desire to contribute, to ensure a decent meal tonight, drove you to try.

"Come on, I'll teach you," Joel says, resignation in his voice. He shows you how to skin and butcher the deer, his frustration still evident. It's clear he resents the extra burden you represent.

After you've all eaten your fill and packed away the rest for tomorrow, you and Ellie crawl into your sleeping bags, while Joel takes the first watch.

—

In the dead of night, a sound pierces through the silence, and you jolt awake. You see Joel leaning against a tree, his vigilance unwavering. As you approach, you offer, "Here, let me take over. Get some rest."

He turns to meet your gaze, "No. I don't know you, can't trust you."

"I don't know you either, and I trusted you to keep me safe," you rebut.

"I think saving you before I even knew you is proof enough of my trustworthiness. You've done nothing but add extra work for me since I've been here. I'm not lettin’ you keep watch. You couldn't even hear the damn thing when it was close." Joel's frustration is palpable.

Your eyes narrow as you step into Joel's space, "Fuck you, Joel. I never asked for your help. If you want me to leave, then tell me to leave, and I'll go." Despite barely knowing the man, his words sting.

Joel rolls his eyes, a silent admission of the care he feels for you, a care he'd never voice. His tough exterior belies a growing attachment, one that complicates his solitary existence. He avoids looking at you, his gaze skittering away whenever your eyes meet. "Go to bed, please. I've got this," he says, his voice a low rumble. Joel doesn't turn his attention to you until you retreat to your sleeping bag, where you curl up, seeking warmth and comfort. As you drift off to sleep, he watches over you, a silent sentinel in the quiet night. There's a palpable sense of relief that washes over him when you finally succumb to sleep.

The next morning, the sound of footsteps rouses you from your slumber. You blink against the bright morning light, using your arm as a shield. Rolling over, you're greeted by the sight of Joel's back; he's crouched, presumably packing his bag for the journey ahead. The remnants of sleep slowly clear from your mind as you extricate yourself from the sleeping bag and roll it up. To your right, Ellie lies fast asleep, her soft snores a gentle backdrop to the morning.

You leave Ellie to her dreams and approach Joel. He's focused on his pack, his shirt inching up to reveal the taut skin of his lower back. You catch yourself staring and quickly bite your lip, a futile attempt to redirect your thoughts.

Attraction? No, that's not it. He's infuriating, self-centered, and yet here you are, sharing this strange journey with him and Ellie, who might as well be his daughter.

Joel looks up, his eyes betraying a deep exhaustion that seems to have settled into his very bones. "We're leaving once the sun's up. Make sure you're ready. We'll cover more than half the distance by nightfall," he informs you, rising to his feet and hoisting his pack over his shoulder.

You find yourself captivated by his deep brown eyes, noticing for the first time the kindness hidden beneath his gruff exterior. A silent exchange passes between you, a moment of unspoken understanding, before Joel clears his throat and breaks the connection, turning his attention to the horse.

The tension in the air is almost tangible as you both look away. Once Joel has secured everything onto the horse except for Ellie, he gently wakes her.

The three of you fall into a rhythm, traversing the desolate landscape. The day stretches on, filled with endless walking. As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the land, fatigue sets in. But Joel, ever perceptive, anticipates your need for rest.

"There should be a town up this road," he says. "We can find an old house to spend the night. No need for watches tonight; we all could use some proper sleep."

As night falls, Joel guides the horse with practiced ease over the unforgiving terrain. Before long, a small farmhouse emerges from the twilight, its isolation suggesting it's been long abandoned.

Ellie's voice cuts through the stillness. "Is this the town you were talking about? It's tiny, Joel. There's barely a house here."

Joel just chuckles, a soft sound that carries the weight of countless stories and experiences. "Sometimes, the best places are the ones that are hardest to find."

The three of you brace yourselves for the night, the assurance of safety and rest offering a much-needed refuge from the relentless challenges of your travels.

"This isn't the town, but it's likely safer to camp here. Raiders might be patrolling near the town. Now go inside and get settled, Ellie, help me with the horse."

You move silently into the house, scouting for a suitable spot to bed down for the night.

Ellie and Joel lead the horse towards the barn at the back.

"So, you planning to make a move, lover boy?" Ellie abruptly inquires, her voice laced with playful mischief.

Joel's eyes narrow in confusion, "What?"

"Ugh, it's so clear you two are head over heels for each other. It's adorable how you bicker." She giggles, mimicking air kisses.

Joel dismisses her with a shake of his head, "Mind your own business, would you?"

"So it is true! You like her... ha! I knew it. Can't wait to spill the beans."

Joel's eyes widen with a hint of panic as he secures the horse to a post, "Ellie! Cut it out, this isn't the time for matchmaking. I'm not in love. I wouldn't bat an eye if she left."

Ellie smirks, her eyes gleaming with a devious spark. "Oh Joel, dumb dumb Joel. Don't worry, I'll help you out."

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing, "Ellie, please, just drop it, head inside. I'll be there shortly. And don't say a word to her!"

By the time he finishes, Ellie is already darting back to the house.

Upon entering, you're arranging an old, grimy mattress when Ellie bursts in.

"Hey, lucky for us, there's another mattress upstairs. I figured we could each -"

Before you can finish, Ellie dashes up the stairs, calling out, "I'll take this one!" She pauses at the top, looking back, "And tell Joel I'm really upset with him and I don't want to talk."

Perplexed, you try to stop her, but she's already disappeared, the door shut behind her.

As the door closes, Joel steps in, and you turn to face him, "What happened with Ellie?"

Joel looks up, puzzled, as he sets his gear aside, "What do you mean?"

"She just bolted upstairs, saying she's upset and doesn't want to talk to you."

"She's a kid, I don't know. So this is the only bed then?"

"Well, you must have done something to upset her. She dashed upstairs and staked her claim on the other mattress."

The realization dawns on Joel. "Goddammit, Ellie! Get down here now!" he yells, but his call is met with silence. He races up the staircase to the closed door, pounding on it. "Ellie, come out here. We need to talk."

"No! I'm not talking to you. I locked the door, you can't come in," her voice is muffled but defiant. Joel continues to pound on the door. "Ellie, get out here."

"I can't hear you..." Ellie's voice trails off, barely audible.

Frustrated, Joel descends the stairs, his gaze shifting between the bed and you. "You can have the bed. I'll just crash on the floor in one of the sleeping bags."

You raise your eyebrows, surprised by his offer. "Just get in the damn bed, Joel. We're two grown adults; we can share a bed for one night, can't we?"

He looks like he's about to argue but then relents. "Fine... whatever." He grabs a sleeping bag from his pack and tosses it onto the bed. You slip under the covers, turning away from him. As Joel settles down to sleep, the room falls silent.

After a few minutes, you hear him chuckle softly to himself.

"What's so funny?" You turn to face him, a hint of irritation in your voice.

"Nothin’, just thinkin’," he replies, the chuckle turning into a full-blown laugh.

You sigh and turn back around, but his laughter is infectious. "Seriously, Joel, if you don't stop, I'm going to punch you in the face." You turn to face him again, trying to suppress a smile.

"It's Ellie," he says, the laughter subsiding. "I know why she's upset."

"Then why aren't you talking to her about it?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

He studies you for a moment, his gaze intense. "It ain't that simple. She thinks she's doin’ us a favor by making us share a bed."

Your cheeks flush with warmth. "Oh."

"So I guess that means it's your fault," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips. The atmosphere shifts, becoming both more relaxed and more charged at the same time.

"How is it my fault?" you challenge, playing along with his playful tone.

"If I didn't have to keep saving your ass, we wouldn't be in this situation," he jabs, his tone light and teasing.

"I think you owe me, if anything, for that deer I killed," you retort, a small smile tugging at your lips. The tension that's been building over the past day begins to dissipate.

"Oh yeah?" he says, inching closer to you on the bed.

You swallow hard, your heart rate picking up. "Mhm, you sure owe me big time."

His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes. Suddenly, he leans in and kisses you, his hand cradling the back of your neck while the other pulls you tightly against him. The kiss is gentle and sweet, causing your thoughts to scatter as you surrender to the moment, pressing closer to him.

In the quiet hush of the room, you pull back slightly, your gaze meeting his. Joel's face is mere inches from yours, his eyes brimming with unspoken desire.

Nervously, you wet your lips with the tip of your tongue, whispering his name like a secret, "Joel..."

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he slowly leans in, closing the distance between you. His forehead gently meets yours, a tender gesture that sends a shiver down your spine.

"God, I've wanted this since the moment I saw you," he confesses, his voice a low rumble that resonates deep within you.

Without warning, his hand shoots out, capturing your wrist in a firm yet gentle grip. He pulls you towards him, your bodies aligning, pressing tightly against each other.

Your lips find his again, this kiss more urgent than the last, fueled by a hunger that has been building since your first encounter. Joel's lips move against yours with a newfound intensity, his tongue exploring, claiming every inch of your mouth.

You surrender to the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours. His hands begin to roam, tracing the curves of your body, eliciting a soft moan from you. The sound seems to spur him on, and he deepens the kiss even further.

You can feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his muscles beneath your hands. His grip on you is firm, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. He breaks away from your mouth, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck. His hot breath against your skin causes goosebumps to rise in its wake.

His hands slide lower, gripping your hips with a possessive intensity. Joel lifts himself off the bed, pressing his body against yours, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable.

A gasp escapes you as he grinds against you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, while his hands explore the softness of your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. A whimper slips past your lips as he teases you with a gentle squeeze.

You can feel his smirk against your neck as he continues his descent, leaving a trail of kisses and small love bites in his wake. The sensation of being consumed by him is intoxicating, and you find yourself yearning for more, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

"Joel...please..." you beg, tugging at his shirt, eager to remove the last barrier between you.

He chuckles at the desperation in your voice, a sound that only fans the flames of your desire. His lips return to yours, and he begins to move his hips in a rhythm that matches the urgency of your kisses. Your body responds instinctively, arching against him, seeking friction.

"Ahh..." you groan as his bulge hits just the right spot, causing your body to tremble with anticipation.

"Shh... just relax. I'm going to make you feel so good," Joel whispers, his voice a promise against your ear. He quickly strips you of your shirt, tossing it aside, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

You bite your lip, your eyes fluttering closed as the sensation of his hands on your skin sends you reeling. His touch is electric, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench.

"Look at me," he commands, and your eyes snap open to meet his intense gaze. His face is a portrait of desire, his eyes dark with need, his hair tousled from your eager hands. His fingers find the hem of your pants, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation as he peels them off your legs.

He plants a gentle kiss on your belly, causing you to sigh with contentment. His lips continue their journey downward, and you can't help but arch your back, moaning softly as his fingertips graze your sensitive flesh. His tongue darts out, teasing you, tasting you, driving you wild with need.

The years of longing, the pent-up desire, it all comes crashing down as his tongue delves into your core. You can't hold back the moans that escape your lips, each one a testament to the pleasure he's bringing you. He continues to tease you, his hands tracing a path back up to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples into hard peaks.

The sensation of his mouth on you is almost too much to bear. You come undone, your body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Joel's mouth is relentless, his lips and tongue working in unison to draw out every last ounce of your pleasure.

As you come back down to earth, your breathing slowly returning to normal, Joel pulls away, his lips glistening with the evidence of your desire. He wastes no time in shedding his own clothes, revealing the full extent of his arousal.

He positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his shaft teasing you, promising you the release you so desperately crave. And then, with one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely.

The world around you fades away as Joel sets a punishing pace, his hands gripping your hair, pulling just enough to send shivers of pleasure down your spine. You match his rhythm, your bodies moving together as one, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

Sweat beads on your foreheads, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other's breaths. All you can see is Joel's face above you, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a passion that takes your breath away.

"Joel..." you whisper his name, a benediction, a plea, a promise. Your fingers thread through his hair, caressing his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingertips.

With a final, powerful thrust, Joel reaches his climax, his body shuddering against yours. You hold him close, feeling the aftershocks of his release mingle with your own.

For a moment, the only sounds are the ragged breaths filling the room and the pounding of your hearts. In this moment, there is nothing else—just you and Joel, two souls intertwined in the most intimate of dances.

You lie there, your breaths heavy as they echo in the quiet room, your gaze fixed on the ceiling above. In the stillness, the sound of your own ragged breathing mingles with Joel's intense scrutiny of your body. It's then that he notices the jagged scar marring your torso. His fingers trace its length, a silent question hanging in the air. "What happened?" he asks, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity.

The question yanks you from the serenity you'd found, hurling you into a tumultuous sea of memories. "Uh - it's nothing, just a battle wound," you reply, your voice trembling despite your attempt at nonchalance.

He looks at you, his eyes probing, seeing right through your facade. "Who did this to you?" he presses, his tone insistent.

Tears well up as you feel the rough pads of his fingers grazing your scar. You pull his hand away, sitting up on the bed's edge, turning away from him. A heavy sigh escapes you before you begin to unravel the story.

"When the raiders took over our camp, they brought me to some abandoned warehouse a few cities over. They held me there for weeks, torturing me, starving me. They left bruises everywhere. Every night before they would sleep, they would have their way with me." you confess, your voice wavering. "One night I guess I fought them a little too hard and I was awarded this fucking thing as a lovely reminder." You gesture to the scar on your abdomen with a trembling hand.

Joel moves closer, his cool hands unexpectedly cradling your face, turning you to meet his gaze. He wipes away your tears, his eyes locked onto yours. "I'm here now, baby girl," he assures you, his voice firm with conviction. "Ain't nothing gonna happen to you like that ever again, you hear me?"

A small, sad smile tugs at your lips as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. He then reclines on the bed, drawing you into the sanctuary of his arms. Your head finds the rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting lullaby that resonates against your cheek. In this moment of vulnerability, you allow yourself to trust in his promises, your defenses crumbling as sleep claims you, cocooned in his embrace.

—

"I knew it!"

Suddenly, a sharp whisper slices through the silence, "I knew it!"

Joel startles awake, his heart pounding in his chest. There, at the foot of the stairs, stands Ellie, her eyes wide with the realization of the scene before her. He glances down at you, still nestled against him, and for a moment, time stands still. With a quick gesture, he signals Ellie to be quiet, his finger pressed to his lips. "Go back to bed," he commands softly.

"But I'm not tired -" Ellie protests, her voice a whisper in the dark.

"Now," Joel repeats, his whisper now a stern command. Ellie sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes, but she complies, her footsteps retreating up the stairs. "Jeez, okay, lover boy," she mutters under her breath.

Relief washes over Joel as he watches Ellie disappear from view. He turns back to you, your peaceful slumber a stark contrast to the tension that just gripped the room. He gently kisses your forehead, his whisper barely audible, "I got you, baby girl."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic

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beiasluv · 1 year ago

Text

christmas spirit’s | f1 grid

a/n: super rushed but enjoy 💀💀

ynfannss

liked by username, username and 76,727 others

ynfannss NOT CHARLES BEGGING FOR YN TO TAKE THAT PICTURE AS HIS SECRET SANTA PRESENT

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username mans knew that she loves f1 dilfs and went with it

username I NEED to see Jenson reaction

username NO because Sebastian IS her mentor 😩

username I FEEL SO BAD FOR YN 😭

username RIGHT

username NOT WHEN SHE GAVE THE BEST GIFT AS WELL

username 😭😭

username BUT QUEEN WASNT FAZE AT ALL

username NO SHE LOVED THAT GIFT

username I wouldn’t be mad if I was gifted the three branches of government

carlossainz55

liked by yourinsta, landonorris and 524,626 others

carlossainz55 ¡feliz navidad! from the sainz’s 🎄

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username carlos is in spain (without the s)

username NO MORE CHRISTMAS PARTY SAINZ😩😭

username NO MORE SMOOTH OPERATORR

username another one ticked off the list 😭😭😭

username ikr???

username YALL ACTIN LIKE THEY DONT HAVE PRIVATE JETS 👹

username FR THEY JUST HOP ON AND OFF LIKE ITS A FUCKING BUS

alex_albon

liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 361,155 others

alex_albon wishing everyone a very happy christmas from the albons!

view all 89,621 comments

username sad day to be an albon fan

username girl imagine being a logan stan

username you’re either american or american. either way, he is definitely back in florida

username ngl I’ll let him spend any day with lily. a win is a win

username get a fucking life yall it’s just a party

username ITS NOT “JUST A PARTY”

username it’s LIFE

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, yourinsta and 861,718 others

charles_leclerc family dinner from the leclerc ❤️🎄

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username okay mr. host candidate, pack it up rn

username WHERE IS THE PARTY MISTA

username so no one is going to mention that yn goes on to like every single post 😭😭

username and lando.

username they plotting sumthinh

username tell me that bitch didn’t lie to us 👹

username that’s mean. do it again

yourinsta

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 861,517 others

yourinsta new player contract?? 🤭

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carlossainz55 ankles still working?

landonorris at least I’m better than you

yourinsta she was a fairy 🤭🤭

username TIKTOK QUEENNN

username YN IS IN THE UK 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🦅🦅🦅

username GOD BLESS FHE QUEEN (Yn)

username LANDO???? EXCUSE ME WHO GAVE YOU THE PERMISSION

username so bf??? 🤭😭😭😭

username WHAT IS HAPPENING

username football girlie here but gah daium yn looks so fine 😩

username the crossover we never (kinda) expected 👹

username so…the party?

yourinsta

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 385,288 others

yourinsta happy holidays and making cookies!

view all 86,626 comments

landonorris where’s mine

yourinsta burnt 👹

username SAME RESIDENCE CONFIRMED

username switching sides

username maybe she’s not planning something after all 😔✊

yourinsta SAY SIKE RN 🤭

username WHATHDG

landonorris 4h

yourinsta 2h

landonorris 23m

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 97,277 others

f1gossips photos of the F1 Christmas party parties last night were leaked. lando norris comfirmed as the party host and special guests of carlos sainz, nico hulkenburg, max verstappen, pierre gasly, kika gomes, yn ln, and charles leclerc himself. monte carlo confirmed.

- admin

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username please tell me yn took that picture of Charles

username queen getting back for his present

username no she was a savage last night 😭

username Queen was roasting no one with hesitation

username AS SHE SHOULD

ngl guys, I actually finished the mark webber one first and then the poll shifted 👹👹👹👹

if you guys enjoyed it, any interaction would be appreciated. if not, then why the fuck not? 😘

today’s a great day to get out and take care of yourself 🫶

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kirvirul · 10 months ago

Text

oh to have graydon read out the mushroom post n riley the various obama dreams.........

If anything was just and good in this world hivemind would do a best tumblr posts tierlist. But they won’t

#hivemind tv #graydon weaver #riley john savage #ah the dashcon ballpit #the asexual glass of milk one #i don't remember the name #down with the cis bus.......#it's a gold mine really

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wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

Note

Hey girl, while I am jet-lagged from a trip, another Elijah idea came to me. Memory-free Elijah (Season 5) meets strong and confident human readers, and they start a friendship. She helps him navigate through his new life, and he falls for her. He also kinda forgot that he is a really skilled lover, so it's kinda cute and fluff because he is nervous and sweet, but I imagine that is something he would quickly remember after a few rounds :)

Btw: love, love, love Kinktober!!!

Belonging

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

{Elijah Mikaelson x Reader} You needed a roommate, and he needed a place to belong...but as secrets unravel and his dark past comes to light, your new housemate might just change your life forever.

♡♡ ahhh @originals23 thank you for another spectacular request!! ♡♡

8.8k words {whoops} - Warnings: sssmmuuttt, roommates-to-lovers, lots of sexual tension, Elijah being charming and mysterious, a dash of angst, mild language, protective Elijah, soft and nervous Elijah, domestic fluff, dangerous encounters (brief physical assault), Paris, vampire reveals && all the feelsss

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

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

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

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

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@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @elishi03

Money was tight, as it seemed to be for everyone these days. The economy wasn't kind, and you had bills to pay. You needed a roommate, which was how you found yourself on craigslist. You were hoping for a good, sane human being, but at the end of the day, you would take what you could get.

The first person to show up for the interview was a woman and her very obnoxious boyfriend. You could instantly tell that this would not work, even if you were desperate. She wanted to smoke in the house and have friends over to play loud music and drink all night. You would rather die.

Next came a middle-aged man who immediately gave you the creeps. You had no problem living with men in general, but this guy made you uncomfortable. He stared at you too much and had a weird look in his eyes. You kicked him out quickly, feeling uneasy.

You were about to give up for the day, when a man dressed in slightly worn clothes knocked on the door. You couldn't quite get a read on him, he seemed to be full of contradictions. On the one hand, he didn't look to have a lot of money, perhaps he was even homeless. But his skin was clean, his hair neatly trimmed, and he had an air of confidence that was rare to see.

You invited him in, and he sat at the kitchen table as you asked the usual questions. None of them he could really answer in a straightforward manner.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm not really sure."

"How old are you?"

"I don't know that either."

"Where do you work?”

"I...I'm looking."

You studied him for a minute, and he gave you a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. I know this is a bit unusual, and I wouldn't have bothered coming here if I had anywhere else to go. The truth is, I have no memories of who I am, where I'm from, or even my age."

"That's...that's a lot to take in," you replied, not sure what else to say.

He nodded solemnly, his gaze steady but filled with vulnerability. “It is. I woke up a month ago on a bus with no memory of how I got there. All I had was this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a single, ornate cufflink with an engraved ‘E.’ “I think my name starts with an ‘E.’ Beyond that, I don’t have much to go on.

You leaned back in your chair, trying to process the situation. He could have been lying… anyone could come up with a story like that. But something about his demeanor struck you as sincere. He didn’t have the desperation of someone looking for a quick handout. He carried himself with dignity, even as he admitted he had nothing.

"Okay," you said slowly. "So, let’s say I believe you. You’ve got no memories, no job, no ID. How do you plan to contribute if I let you stay here?”

He straightened in his chair, his expression resolute. “I may not remember who I was, but I’m willing to work. I’m a fast learner, and I can help with anything you need around the house. Cleaning, repairs, anything physical...I’ll earn my keep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure sound confident for someone who doesn’t even know their own name.”

A small, shy smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose some things are instinctual.”

His charm wasn’t lost on you, but you weren’t about to make a decision based on a smile. “And what if you’re dangerous? You could be an escaped convict for all I know.”

His smile faded, and his expression turned serious. “I understand your concern. I don’t believe I’m a danger to anyone, but I can’t offer you proof of that. All I can promise is that I’ll respect your home and your rules.”

You studied him for a long moment, weighing the risks. Something about him made you want to trust him, even though logic told you not to. Maybe it was the way he spoke, all articulate and thoughtful, as though he’d once been someone important. Or maybe it was the quiet sadness in his eyes, the kind that suggested he’d lost something far greater than his memory.

"Alright," you said finally. "You can stay. But there are rules. No bringing strangers into the house, no smoking, no loud music. And if you try anything shady, I’m calling the cops.”

Relief washed over his face, and he nodded earnestly. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.”

You showed him to the spare bedroom, which was small but comfortable, and gave him a set of clean sheets and a towel. He looked around the room as though he’d never seen anything like it, running his fingers over the furniture with quiet curiosity.

As he settled in, you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he’d led before he lost his memory. He was polite and well-spoken, yet entirely out of place in the world. And though he seemed vulnerable now, there was something about him… something strong and enduring, like a flicker of a flame waiting to reignite.

For now, you decided to take it one day at a time. After all, what’s life without a little risk?

The following months passed by quickly. You got closer and closer to each other, spending a lot of time together.

He had gotten used to the city life, and you had gotten used to having him around. It had been nice, having someone to come home to, and to talk to.

He was a lovely person, who enjoyed listening to classical music as he cooked, and who was always willing to lend a hand. He was smart, funny, and kind, and you were starting to fall for him.

You weren't sure if he felt the same way about you, but the way he looked at you sometimes, and the way he smiled at you, gave you hope.

You were sitting in the living room, reading a book, while he cooked dinner. The smell of his cooking was making your stomach growl, and you were looking forward to eating whatever he had prepared.

"I found out something interesting today," he said, coming into the room with a bowl of salad.

"What's that?" You asked, putting your book down.

"My name," he said, a slight smirk on his face. "My full name, I mean."

"You did?!" You exclaimed, excitedly.

"Yep," he confirmed, looking pleased with himself. "It's Elijah."

"Elijah," you repeated, testing out the name. "I like it. It suits you."

He smiled, and the sight of his dimples made your heart skip a beat. He was so striking, and you wondered if there was someone out there missing him. Someone who loved him.

"It does," he agreed, his smile fading a little.

"So, how did you find out? Did it just come to you, or did you remember?" You asked.

"Actually... I uh.. ran into someone who claimed to know me. He wasn't very friendly," he explained.

"Oh no, are you okay?" You asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," he assured you. "I wasn't hurt. Just... I don't know, it was odd."

"Odd how?"

"He was angry, and he told me I wanted this, and that I should leave the city for the sake of a woman he wouldn't name," he recalled.

"That's awful," you said, feeling sorry for him.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Do you have any idea who the woman is?" You asked.

"... I think she might be my family?" He said, looking unsure. "It's hard to explain, but when he mentioned her, it felt like something clicked, and I knew that he was telling the truth."

"Wow, that's big," you breathed.

"I know," he nodded, plating up the food. "It's strange, I don't remember anything about my life, but the mention of her... It felt right."

"Maybe it'll trigger your memories," you suggested, helping him bring the food over to the table.

"Maybe," he agreed.

The two of you sat down to eat, and the conversation shifted to more pleasant topics.

He talked about his favorite books, and his favorite places in the city, and you listened, enjoying his company.

After dinner, you cleared the table, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. And he prepared for his nightly walk, one he didn't want you joining him on.

"Can I join you tonight?" You asked, as he grabbed his jacket.

"Why?" He asked, sounding surprised.

"Because I want to spend more time with you," you explained, hoping he wouldn't think it was too weird.

"Oh," he said, a smile creeping across his face. "Truly, I would love for you to join... But tonight, I want to clear my head. I need some time alone."

"Okay," you agreed, a little disappointed.

"Tomorrow night, perhaps," he said, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You blushed, and watched him leave. He always had an excuse as to why he had to go out on his own, and it was starting to bother you. You couldn't help but worry that he was hiding something from you, or that maybe he didn't feel the same way about you, and this was his subtle way of letting you down.

Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was your growing feelings for him, but you decided to follow him, just this once.

You grabbed a coat and put on a pair of boots, and slipped out the front door. It was a cold, windy night, and you cursed yourself for not bringing a scarf and gloves.

You could see Elijah's silhouette ahead, and you followed him, keeping your distance. He walked with such grace and confidence, the sort of walk that screamed 'I'm rich and powerful,' although his personality hardly lined up with that attitude.

You had a feeling that whoever he was, before he lost his memories, had a lot of money. It was in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and the way he could make a cheap t-shirt look elegant.

He wandered into a sketchy part of town, and you wondered why he would want to come here. There were several run-down buildings, and a lot of graffiti. The only people you saw were homeless and drug addicts, and you were starting to get scared.

Finally, he stopped outside an abandoned warehouse. You watched from afar as he walked inside, and a few minutes later, came back out, wiping his mouth. You frowned, wondering what he had been doing in there.

Then, without warning, he turned around and started walking back towards the house.

"Fuck," you muttered, ducking into an alleyway.

You waited until he had passed, and then followed him, staying out of sight. He went back in a different direction, and after a few blocks, you realised he was headed for a park.

You followed him, trying to stay quiet, but your footsteps echoed loudly in the night. You felt foolish, and hoped that he hadn't heard you.

He led you deeper into the park, to an area that was mostly secluded. There was a large tree, with a bench underneath it. He sat down on the bench, and stared up at the sky, which was covered in stars.

You watched him for a moment, wondering if this was his way of relaxing, and what was going through his mind.

Suddenly, his eyes locked onto yours. You gasped and took a step back, your heart racing.

"Are you going to join me, or just keep spying on me?" He asked, his voice amused.

"I wasn't spying," you lied, sitting down next to him.

"Of course not," he replied, his tone clearly mocking you.

"Why are you here?" You asked.

"I like the fresh air, and the view is beautiful," he answered.

"What were you doing in that warehouse?"

"Just clearing my head," he said, his expression becoming serious. "You shouldn't be out here, it's dangerous."

"You are out here," you countered.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling up in the corners.

"That's true," he agreed, looking out into the darkness, his eyes scanning the shadows. His shoulders were tense, and you could tell that he was on alert, even though you were both sitting safely under the tree. "Let's walk back, shall we?"

He stood up and held out his hand. You took it and he helped you to your feet.

"I'm sorry," you apologised, feeling guilty. "I shouldn't have followed you, but I was worried about you."

"It's alright," he said, keeping a grip on your hand as you walked down the path to the park exit.

You enjoyed the feeling of his hand in yours, the warmth of his skin. You glanced at his profile, admiring his handsome features. You noticed the frown on his face, his dark eyes once again scanning the shadows.

He moved a little faster, pulling you along. He seemed anxious to get out of the park, and back to the safety of your condo.

"What's wrong?" You asked, sensing his unease.

"It's nothing," he replied, his tone serious. "But I think it's best we get home, don't you?"

Then the sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes caught your attention. You turned to see a group of men walking towards you, wearing dark clothing, their faces hidden.

Elijah stopped and stepped in front of you, shielding you from the men. They approached slowly, spreading out to surround you. You were frightened, and you held onto his arm, hoping he knew what to do.

One of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. Casually holding it by his side, as if it was a normal object, instead of a deadly weapon.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Elijah said, his tone calm and confident. "How may I be of service?"

The leader of the group chuckled, and shook his head.

"Hand over your money, and no one gets hurt," the man demanded, gesturing the gun at Elijah.

"Of course," Elijah said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He handed it to the man, and the man flipped through it, counting the cash.

"A little light, don't you think?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I don't carry much cash on me," Elijah said, sounding apologetic.

The man's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, his gaze flicking between you and Elijah.

"Perhaps you should let the lady go, and we can discuss this like civilized men," Elijah suggested, his tone still polite, but his eyes had hardened.

"I don't think so," the man replied, his grip on the gun tightening.

"I uh... don't have anything," you stammered, too terrified to think straight. "I...I left my wallet at home,"

"Liar," the man spat, pointing the gun at you.

Elijah stepped in front of you, putting himself between you and the gun.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," Elijah said, holding up his hands. "We're all reasonable people, let's not resort to violence."

"Then, perhaps, we should take her fancy designer clothes instead. Maybe that'll make up for the loss," the man said, his tone threatening, pressing the barrel of the gun against Elijah's chest.

Elijah tensed, and a low growl escaped his lips. You looked at him in surprise, he didn't seem like the type of guy who would react to threats this way.

The leader's eyes widened, and a small grin appeared on his face.

"Ooh, we have a tough guy here," he said, sounding amused. "Trying to impress your date? She’ a little young for you ain't she?"

His goons laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush.

"She is none of your concern," Elijah replied, his tone sharp.

"Actually, she is. You see, I'm in charge here," the man said, he looked at you and smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "Strip. Now. Or I will shoot your sugar daddy in the fucking face,"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"No, no please, we'll give you anything you want, just don't hurt us," you begged, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Clothes. NOW!" The man yelled, pointing the gun at your face.

You hesitated, and he grabbed your hair, yanking you away from Elijah.

"Take off the fucking clothes, or I will kill you both," the man snarled, his breath hot on your face, the barrel of the gun pressed against your temple.

"Alright, alright, don't hurt her," Elijah said, taking off his coat.

"Hurry up," the man snapped, releasing your hair.

You nodded and started to undress, tears streaming down your cheeks. You stripped off your coat and scarf, then pulled off your shirt and pants, shivering as the cold night air hit your bare skin.

You looked at Elijah, who was watching you, his expression unreadable. You could see the muscles in his jaw working, his hands balled into fists.

You were scared, but more than that, you were angry. You hated these men, for the way they were treating you and Elijah, and for the fear and shame they were making you feel.

"There, I'm naked," you said, trying to sound brave.

"Not quite," the man replied, stepping forward. He ran his hands over your body, his fingers rough against your skin, the gun still pressed to your temple.

You flinched, and he chuckled.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going to rape you," he said, his hand cupping your breast. "You're not my type."

He moved his hand down, stroking your stomach, and then lower, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties. You shuddered, and he laughed again.

"But, maybe you'd like a little fun," he whispered, his lips close to your ear.

"That's enough, you've gotten what you wanted, now leave us alone," Elijah demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"It seems your sugar daddy doesn't want to share," the man said, his tone mocking. "He keeps pretending like he's in charge,"

"Please, let us go," you pleaded, your voice breaking.

"No, I think I'm going to keep you," the man replied, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you against his chest.

"You won't harm her," Elijah warned, his eyes blazing.

"Or what?" The man sneered, his fingers digging into your skin.

"I'll kill you," Elijah growled, his voice deadly.

You watched in horror as the other men laughed, raising their guns at Elijah. He didn't even blink, his gaze fixed on the man holding you.

"Is that a threat?" The man asked, his grip on you tightening.

"A promise," Elijah replied, his expression was eerily calm, but his eyes were filled with anger and determination.

The man pressed the barrel of the gun against your skull, the cold metal pressing painfully into your skin. You gasped, and he laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine.

"Walk away, and I'll let her go," the man said, his gaze locked on Elijah.

Elijah looked at you, and his eyes softened.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice soft, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat.

"Yes," you answered, without hesitation.

He smiled, and turned to the man. "Then duck,"

Before the man could respond, Elijah lunged at him, his hand grabbing the wrist holding the gun. The man yelped, and you ducked down, just as Elijah's knee connected with his face. There was a sickening crack, and the man cried out, letting go of the gun.

Elijah caught it before it hit the ground, and other men began firing, hitting Elijah in the chest over and over, but he stood there unfazed, almost bored, like they were annoying pests and nothing more.

One of the men, realizing his bullets were useless, rushed forward and swung a fist, hitting Elijah in the jaw. Elijah didn't budge, grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. The man gasped, and tried to pry his hand off, but Elijah's grip was too strong.

You watched in awe as Elijah crushed the man's throat, his expression blank. Then, he threw him aside, the sound of bones snapping echoed in the air.

The other men backed away, their faces pale. Elijah ignored them, taking his leather jacket and putting it over your shoulders, before turning his attention to the leader.

The man was kneeling on the ground, clutching his broken nose. He looked up at Elijah, his eyes wide with fear.

"P-please," the man stammered, holding up his hands. "I'm s-sorry,"

Elijah stared at him, his expression cold. "No you are not,"

He crushed the gun in his hands like it was tissue paper, and grabbed the man by the throat. The man choked, his hands clawing at Elijah's arm.

"I promised you that I would kill you, and I intend to keep my word," Elijah said, his voice devoid of emotion.

You watched in horror as he tightened his grip, and the man's face turned purple. You wanted to look away, but couldn't tear your eyes from the scene.

Elijah's expression was a mixture of rage and hatred, his face was no longer human, he had completely black eyes, with veins snaking across his face, and his teeth were razor sharp, almost fang like.

He snapped the neck with a loud crack, and dropped the man to the ground. The other men backed away further, their guns forgotten, the color drained from their faces.

Elijah looked at them, and smiled, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Run," he commanded, his voice dark and deadly.

The men fled, tripping over their own feet, disappearing into the shadows. Elijah turned to look at you, his eyes soft yet completely inhuman.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, unable to speak. You were terrified, but not of him.

"Close your eyes and count to thirty, I'll be right back," he said, and then turned and followed the men.

You watched him run off faster than any human could, and you closed your eyes tightly, hearing screams and cries as he caught the men. You waited, counting down from thirty, and then you heard his footsteps and opened your eyes, his face once again normal, the only hint that he had been a monster moments ago was the blood staining his shirt.

He didn't say a word, just reached out his hand and helped you to your feet. He picked up your clothes and helped you dress, your hands were shaking so badly that you could barely button up your shirt.

When you were dressed, he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close, his warmth enveloping you.

"S-shouldn't we call the cops?" You asked, still in shock.

"There will be no need," he replied, his voice calm and soothing.

You looked at the bodies of the men, and then quickly looked away. Elijah had torn them apart, their limbs twisted and contorted in impossible ways. Their faces were frozen in expressions of terror, their eyes empty and lifeless.

"You're not human are you?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I'm more human than them," he replied, his grip on you tightening a little. "Let's get out of here, and I'll explain everything."

"Okay," you said, letting him guide you away from the bodies.

You felt numb, and you let him lead you out of the park, your mind struggling to process what had happened. Who was this man? This creature beyond comprehension?

Who had you let into your home?

The sound of the kettle whistling pulled you from the daze you had been in. You were sitting on the sofa, wrapped in multiple blankets, Elijah's coat draped across your lap.

You watched him move about the kitchen, his movements confident and sure.

"Here," he said, handing you a mug of hot tea.

"Thank you," you said, taking a sip.

He sat down next to you, his body close to yours. He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you flinched.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.

"But you killed them," you whispered, your eyes watering.

"I did," he confirmed, his voice calm and steady.

"How?" You asked, looking up at him.

"I have... certain abilities," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Abilities that make me stronger, faster, and more dangerous than any human."

You put your mug down on the table and turned to him, studying his face. He was watching you intently, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you... are you an alien?" You asked, a hint of fear in your voice.

He laughed, the sound a pleasant rumble.

"No, I'm not an alien," he assured you.

"What are you then?"

"I'm...well.. I think I'm a vampire," he said, sounding uncertain.

A burst of disbelief mixed with terror erupted within you, and you let out a hysterical laugh.

"Vampire," you repeated, shaking your head. "Like Edward Cullen?"

"I don't know who that is," he said, frowning.

You let out another laugh, your mind reeling. It wasn't possible. Vampires weren't real.

"Y/N," he said, his voice serious. "I know this is a lot to take in, but please believe me. I am a vampire. I can't explain how or why, but it's true."

You let him talk as you grabbed your phone and searched up vampires. Showing it to him, and telling him to look at the search results.

"Sparkle in the sun? Not as far as I am aware," he commented, frowning.

"Holy water? Crucifixes?" You pressed.

"I'm not particularly religious," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Garlic?" You questioned.

"I love garlic," he replied, grinning.

"Can you fly?" You asked, wondering how many myths were true.

"I'm not sure," he said, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I've never tried."

He stood up and did a little hop with his arms raised in the air, like some sort of weird bird. You snorted and covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh.

"No flying," he concluded, sitting back down.

"So, how old are you?" You asked.

"No idea," he said, a sad look on his face.

"Oh my god, what if you are like one hundred years old?" You asked, your mind racing with possibilities.

"Perhaps," he mused.

You paused at the next item on the list of vampire traits, and hesitated before asking.

"And the other thing... blood," you read, your stomach turning at the thought.

"Yes," he admitted, a look of shame crossing his face.

"So, when you went into that warehouse…?" You began, remembering how he had returned, wiping his mouth.

"I was hungry, and I needed to eat," he said, his voice low.

"So you just went and killed someone?" You asked, unable to keep the judgement out of your voice.

"No, he was very much alive, just passed out," he explained.

"And you didn't kill him," you pressed, not entirely convinced.

"I didn't," he insisted.

"But what if you did? What if the next time you went to get some 'sustenance' you did actually kill them?" You asked, starting to panic.

"Y/N," he said softly, taking your hand. "I would never hurt you,"

You looked at his face, searching for any signs that he was lying. But his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity, and a hint of sadness. His gaze drifted to your lips, and his expression changed, becoming softer, and a little more intimate.

You quickly looked away, back to the list of vampire facts, and cleared your throat.

"Mind control," you read, and felt his gaze linger on you.

"Not to my knowledge," he replied.

"You can't enter a house without being invited," you continued, and his hand tightened around yours.

"Is that a request, or a demand?" He asked, his tone playful.

"It's a question," you countered, blushing slightly.

"Yes, but most invite me in without hesitation," he said, giving your hand a light squeeze. "You did,"

"Oh," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

Your eyes went back to the mind control section, and a thought crossed your mind.

"Have you used mind control on me?" You asked, a sense of unease washing over you.

"I don't know," he admitted. "If I have, I'm not aware of it."

"Oh," you mumbled, not knowing what to say, but curiosity got the better of you. "Try to, make me do something,"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, something harmless," you said, thinking for a moment. "Make me sing a song,"

"Very well," he agreed, looking thoughtful.

You waited, expecting to start singing. But nothing happened.

"Do you feel any different?" He asked.

"No, nothing," you said, disappointed.

"I don't know what else to suggest," he said, a frown marring his features.

"I don't know, look me in the eye and tell me to do it? Like... Tell yourself you can do it? I don't know… maybe it's a belief thing…?" you offered.

He nodded, and then turned to look directly at you. His dark eyes were intense, and his lips curved into a smile.

"Sing me a song, sweet girl," he said, his voice echoing strangely in your mind.

You told yourself not to sing, to sit quietly and not react. You repeated it over and over, until the words were all that was in your head.

But his voice seeped into the ribbons of your brain, dancing behind your eyes. You lost your awareness of time and space, and suddenly, a melody rose up from within you.

You opened your mouth and the words came tumbling out, and you started singing an old song that had been stuck in your head for days.

Elijah sat back and looked surprised, a small smile on his lips. You stopped singing, your face flushing in embarrassment.

"Holy shit," you gasped, a strange sensation creeping through your mind, like cobwebs being blown away. "It worked,".

"You have a lovely voice," he said, his tone gentle and kind.

"How did you do that?" You asked, feeling unnerved.

"I don't know," he admitted, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I just believed that I could, and you did as I asked,"

You suddenly stood up, tossing the blankets off of you and heading to your wine rack.

"I need a drink," you declared, and picked a random bottle.

You poured yourself a generous amount, and drank it all in one gulp. Then poured yourself another glass. You looked over at him, and noticed the way his eyes followed the glass as it reached your lips.

"Do you want some?" You asked, the wine giving you courage.

"No, thank you," he replied.

You sat back down on the sofa, and took a long sip. Thinking about all the possibilities of what his vampire status meant.

"Could you mind control my mortgage payments away?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Possibly," he said, smiling a little.

"Could you use your super speed to clean my apartment?" You teased, taking another sip.

"You're not thinking big enough," he replied, his grin growing wider. "I would love to leave this city, find a home in a new town and live a normal life."

"I'm not sure normal is something you could ever be," you quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"You might have a point," he conceded, his tone wistful.

He pointed to the artwork on your walls, you had purchased them at Ikea ages ago. They were those generic wanderlust posters of different famous travel destinations.

"Pick one," he said.

"What?"

"I'll take you there," he offered, his voice soft.

"Seriously?"

"I owe you so much, I think this is the least I can do," he replied.

You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his offer. Was he for real? Was he really willing to take you around the world?

"Paris," you blurted out, a blush rising to your cheeks. "I've always wanted to go,"

"Paris it is," he agreed, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Really?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

"Absolutely," he said, his tone sincere. "I would love nothing more than to take you."

"That's so sweet," you gushed, your face heating up even more.

"So, Paris?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding your head.

"Then we will leave first thing in the morning," he said, his expression brightening.

"But I have work... I need to take time off-" you started to say.

"Forget about all of that," he cut you off, his tone gentle. "I can mind control people, remember? I'll just take care of everything,"

You laughed, the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting you. He was a vampire, who had mind control powers, and was offering to take you on a trip to Paris.

"This is insane," you giggled, feeling slightly hysterical.

"Indeed," he agreed, grinning.

You finished your wine and set the glass down on the coffee table. His proximity was starting to make you feel hot, and a little giddy.

"So," you began, trying to distract yourself. "I guess I'll go pack my bags,"

"I can buy you anything we need when we arrive," he suggested.

"Are we gonna fly? Like on a plane?"

"I was thinking that I could just jump really hard and we can just land in Paris," he said, a serious expression on his face.

"Oh shut up," you giggled, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.

He chuckled and shook his head.

You smiled and sat back, taking a moment to reflect on the day's events. It had been an emotional roller coaster, and your head was still reeling from the revelation that vampires were real, and sitting in your apartment. But the prospect of a trip to Paris made your heart flutter with joy.

"I can't believe I'm going to Paris," you said, letting out a happy sigh.

"We," he corrected, smiling.

"We," you echoed, a warm feeling spreading through you and a huge grin appearing on your face.

This was going to be the best vacation ever.

France was just as magical as you imagined it would be. Elijah took you to the most luxurious hotel in the city, and ordered a feast fit for royalty. The food was incredible, the atmosphere romantic, and the company... Well the company was a bit odd.

The vampire man, who could control humans with his mind, who had saved you from being mugged, and who was now whisking you around the world, was a little hard to ignore.

What was harder to ignore was the raging jealousy you felt every time someone flirted with him. He was like a magnet for hot people of all kinds, and they would flock to him like moths to a flame.

It was ridiculous really. How they would throw themselves at him, practically begging him to fuck them, and he would politely decline. You felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that no matter how good looking they were, no matter how talented their tongue, his attention belonged to you.

You were currently strolling along the Seine, admiring the sights, when you noticed a group of young women watching Elijah.

"They're looking at you," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Elijah didn't bother looking up from his guidebook, but a smirk spread across his lips.

"I'm sure they are," he replied, sounding amused.

"Why are girls so obsessed with you?" You asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

"I have been told I'm... As the young say these days, a snack," he said, laughing at his own joke.

You couldn't help but snort and laugh along with him. He was a complete dork sometimes, and it made him all the more endearing.

He looked over at you and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had been feeding from plenty of tourists, much healthier blood than the people he found on the streets of New York. His complexion was no longer the sickly grey it had been. Now he looked healthier, his skin glowing, and his eyes shining.

"Do you think I'm a snack?" He asked, his tone playful.

"I think you're an entire six course meal," you replied, trying to sound cool.

"Is that so?" He asked, an eyebrow raising.

You flushed and looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment. Why were you acting like such a teenager?

"Yeah," you murmured, fidgeting with your jacket zipper.

"Perhaps you'd like a bite," he said, his voice low and inviting.

"Oh stop it," you groaned, pushing him playfully.

"No seriously, I've seen how you look at me. You want to sink your teeth into me," he teased, giving you a wink.

"That's you, Mr. Vampire," you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him.

He grinned and reached for your hand, taking it in his and bringing it to his lips.

Your heart rate increased, and your cheeks flushed. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you quickly pulled away.

"You're such a flirt," you finally managed, shaking your head. "I bet if you kissed the hand of one of those girls over there, they would swoon right into the river,"

"I could," he agreed, looking at the group of young women.

The group of girls noticed him looking and they quickly began giggling and whispering amongst themselves. One of the girls waved at him and he waved back, his expression playful.

You couldn't help but smile at his antics. He seemed much happier here in Europe than he did back home, and his smile was infectious.

"See, they are already falling over themselves for you," you laughed.

One of the girls broke off from the group and walked up to Elijah. She was stunning, with long blonde hair, and big brown eyes. She said something to him in French, and he laughed and responded.

When you landed in France, Elijah could speak French perfectly. He didn't even notice he was doing it until you called him out on it. Making you both wonder just how much knowledge was locked away inside his mind.

You couldn't understand what they were saying, but the conversation seemed lighthearted. He took your hand and kissed it again, before saying something else to the girl.

She giggled and looked at you, giving you a wide smile. "Zhou are very lucky to 'ave such a fine 'usband."

You were shocked by her words, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Oh, we're not married," you stammered, shaking your head.

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows raising. "'E is zee lover?"

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. The idea of Elijah being your lover was too ridiculous to consider. But before you could correct her again, he spoke up.

"Oui, je suis votre amant," he purred, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.

Your stomach clenched at his words, and your mind struggled to come up with a response.

"Oui, oui, très romantique," the girl giggled, giving you a knowing look. "I'll let you get back to your 'oneymoon,"

She waved at you, and you awkwardly waved back.You watched her join her friends, who all began whispering and giggling again, the blonde fanning herself dramatically and clutching her chest.

"Did you just tell her that we were lovers?" You asked, turning to look at him.

His lips twitched into a faint smile, though he avoided meeting your gaze. “I thought it might discourage her interest.”

Your irritation faltered, replaced by something warmer. “She’s beautiful, Elijah. Why wouldn’t you want her attention?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the cobblestones. When he finally looked up, his dark eyes were steady but uncertain. “Because she’s not you.”

The world seemed to tilt, the bustling streets fading into silence. You stared at him, your chest tight.

“Elijah...” you began, but whatever you were about to say was lost as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss.

It was soft at first, hesitant, as though he were unsure if he was doing it right. But when you responded, your hands gripping his coat, your lips parting for him, his hesitation melted away. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.

The sound of giggles broke the spell, and you pulled back, breathless and flushed. The group of girls was watching you, their laughter light and teasing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Elijah’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Was that... acceptable?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

You laughed softly, your hand sliding to his jaw. “More than acceptable.”

Relief flickered across his face, though his cheeks were still flushed. “I wasn’t sure if I...” He trailed off, his uncertainty palpable.

“You were perfect,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

His lips curved into a small smile, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, the city alive around you but forgotten in the haze of the moment.

"That was my first kiss," he said with a small laugh.

You smiled, your hand cupping his cheek, tracing along his jawline. Taking in his handsome face, his deep brown eyes, his soft lips. You wanted more, you wanted it all.

"I have a strong feeling you've done that plenty of times before, you just don't remember," you teased, your gaze darting to his lips.

He let out a nervous chuckle, his fingers gently caressing your sides.

"Perhaps," he conceded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You stood on your tiptoes, and leaned in close, your lips inches away from his.

"Maybe I should refresh your memory," you said, your voice soft and flirty, "Back at our hotel,"

"Yes," he agreed, his smile growing wider. "And after, perhaps we could discuss this 'lover' business further,"

You snorted and playfully hit him on the shoulder, and his deep, sexy laugh echoed through the streets of Paris.

"Shut up, you are so cheesy," you giggled, your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin was.

He took your hand and kissed the top, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Let's go," he said, his voice warm and full of promise.

The two of you rushed down the street, and headed back to the hotel. The possibilities running through your head, making your heart pound with excitement.

Paris was already the most romantic place on earth, but now, with Elijah by your side, it was about to become unforgettable.

It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you were feeling more than a little pent up. It also didn't help that Elijah was stupidly hot and a complete gentleman.

You had fantasized about him multiple times since the moment you met, and now the opportunity to make those dreams a reality was right in front of you.

You wondered what having sex with a vampire would be like, would he use his fangs? Would he be gentle or rough? You shivered, the thought exciting you more than it should.

The two of you rode the elevator up to your room in silence, both of you trying not to rush, but the tension was thick. He was holding your hand, and when the doors opened, you both hurried down the hall.

You let out a squeal as he scooped you up before you reached the door, carrying you the rest of the way. He used his supernatural speed, and before you could register what was happening, he was already kicking the door open and stepping inside.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the excitement coursing through your veins. He gently placed you on the bed, and you let out a soft gasp as he crawled over you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and soft.

You could feel the blush spreading across your face, and the heat pooling in your core. He kissed your neck, and you let out a soft moan.

"I confess I haven't done this before," he murmured against your skin, his hands caressing your sides.

"I really doubt that," you said with a laugh, your voice breathless. "Have you seen yourself? Whoever you were before you lost your memories... He was a ladies man, I can guarantee it,"

He laughed and shook his head, slowly unbuttoning your dress.

"I suppose I'll just have to rely on my instincts," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face.

And those instincts... were impeccable.

His hands were warm and gentle on your bare skin, his lips soft and teasing. He took his time taking off your dress, savoring the moment, until you were finally lying beneath him, completely naked.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising in your face. His eyes were dark and hungry, and you were desperately trying to keep your cool. But it was nearly impossible, especially with his perfect body looming over you.

You leaned up and kissed him, a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Your hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his pants. He chuckled, helping you remove his clothing. Your fingers traced along his firm chest, and down his arms, enjoying the feel of his skin.

You could tell he was a little nervous, his movements slow and tentative. He avoided your gaze, but kept glancing at you. A slight blush crept up his cheeks, and he let out a soft sigh.

"I do not wish to disappoint you," he confessed. "I fear I may fail at this task,"

You cupped his cheek, and gave him a soft smile.

"It's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle. "We'll figure it out together,"

He nodded, and let out a shaky breath. You kissed him, trying to help him relax, and he returned the gesture with a little more confidence.

You gently guided his hands to where you wanted them, showing him what made you feel good. His fingers gently brushed over your slit, and a soft moan escaped you. He looked a little surprised, but his lips curved into a faint smile.

He began to explore, his thumb circling your clit. His movements were slow and deliberate, and you found yourself arching into his touch.

"Like this?" He asked, his voice soft and teasing.

"Mhm," you murmured, a blissful smile on your lips.

He kissed your neck, and you could feel his fangs brushing against your skin. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through you, and a soft moan slipped out.

His fingers eased inside you, curling just right, and you couldn't help but gasp. He let out a soft laugh, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

"I take it that's the right spot?" He teased, his voice low and seductive.

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding your head.

"What a pretty little sound," he praised, his lips brushing against your ear.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, and he continued his gentle assault on your senses. His fingers worked you slowly, and his lips on yours felt divine.

The heat was rising, and you could feel the pressure building inside you. His thumb teased your clit, and his fingers stroked you just right. Your hips rocked against his hand, and he let out a soft hum of approval.

"Elijah," you moaned, your voice low and breathless.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

"I'm so close," you panted, your nails digging into his skin.

"Go on," he urged, his fingers increasing their pace.

Your breath caught in your throat, your legs trembling. The heat was almost unbearable, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. You closed your eyes, lost in the sensation, and then it was crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you with a bit of wonder in his gaze. You flushed, your heart still pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat in his eyes, and you knew he was enjoying this as much as you were.

When the aftershocks finally faded, he gently withdrew his fingers, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and a sense of need overtook you.

You splayed your hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back, straddling him, and giving him a good view of your body.

He looked up at you with wide eyes, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed. He was gorgeous, and you felt a surge of pride knowing that he was yours.

Your hands were moving steadily downward, and when they reached his belt, you slowly started unbuckling it.

His breathing was getting heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you touched him through his boxers. He let out a low groan, his hands reaching for your hips, pulling you closer.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, his arousal pressing against your core. His eyes were hooded, and his breathing was ragged. You slowly pulled his boxers down, his thick cock springing free.

"My my," you said with a smirk, taking his length in your hands and stroking him gently. "Is this all for me?"

He groaned, his hips rocking forward, eager for more contact.

"All yours," he panted, his voice low and husky.

You could see the desire in his eyes, the need burning within him. And as his fingers dug into your hips, guiding you into position, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto his length, hissing as he stretched and filled you.

"Oh," you moaned, your head tilting back as he bottomed out.

He was big, and it had been awhile, you reached out for him, and he sat up and took your hands, kissing each one.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his tone soft and concerned.

"Yes," you breathed, your eyes meeting his. "You feel really good,"

His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and his fingers caressed the small of your back, gently encouraging you to move.

You began rocking your hips, slowly at first, and then building up to a steady pace. You were panting, the friction delicious, and he was gripping your hips tightly, his own movements matching yours.

The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, the bed creaking beneath you, the headboard tapping against the wall. The scent of sex and desire permeating the air.

You could feel the flush spreading across your cheeks, and the heat building inside you. He was hitting all the right spots, and the look on his face was making you even more turned on.

He was watching you with such intensity, his gaze focused on your expression. Every time you moaned, or shuddered in pleasure, his lips would curve into a satisfied smirk, and his grip would tighten on your hips.

You were close, the pressure coiling within you, and you could tell he was close too. His movements were becoming more frantic, and his breathing was coming in short gasps.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He responded eagerly, pushing you backwards, and pinning you beneath him. He gripped your hips tightly, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.

You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and then you felt his fangs brush against your neck, and that was all it took.

The pressure released, waves of pleasure washing over you, and you cried out, your legs shaking. He groaned, his movements becoming erratic, and then he was spilling himself inside you, his cock throbbing and twitching.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot on your neck, and his skin slick with sweat. Your fingers gently traced along his spine, and he let out a satisfied hum.

He rolled off of you, and laid down beside you, his hand reaching for yours. You laid on your side, and intertwined your fingers with his, a content smile on your lips.

"That was amazing," you breathed, letting out a soft laugh.

He chuckled, his eyes fluttering shut.

"I agree," he murmured, his tone soft and sleepy.

You gently kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and his lips. He smiled, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful.

You had never seen him like this before, and it made your heart swell. You couldn't help but lean forward and place a kiss on his chest, right above his heart.

You scooted closer, resting your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

"I love you," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing along his collarbone.

He stirred slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

You smiled, snuggling against him, and letting the warmth of his body lull you to sleep.

It had been a long, strange journey, and there were still so many questions left unanswered, but in that moment, none of that mattered.

All that mattered was the man next to you, and the promise of what the future held.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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axelsagewrites · 2 years ago

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Roy Kent*Bus Buddy

Pairing: Roy x reader

Word count: 2511

Warnings: pure fluff, Jamie flirting with reader, protective Roy, swearing

Masterlist here

at the same time that Ted got hired Rebecca had also decided she needed an assistant to enact her perfect revenge, so the boys often saw you walking around Richmond or at press interviews. Any time you entered the locker room wolf whistles from Jamie rang across the room followed by a loud ‘shut it’ from Roy. Usually, you’d object to Jamies actions, but the routine had become so common you found it funny especially when Roy dogged him into Keeley one time, and you saw him drag Jamie by the ear.

You weren’t sure why the tough and silent Roy Kent was so protective of you, but you were grateful to know walking into a locker room filled with men that he had your back. the longer you were around the team though you realised none of the boys would even hurt a fly.

still locker rooms or crowded hotel lobbies could get rowdy, and Roy almost acted as security, weaving you through the crowd and telling everyone to fuck off. any thanks you gave him were met with grunts, nods, or two-word answers.

sometimes you had to talk to Roy though, but you never complained. whenever you had forms for him to sign or events you wanted him to attend, sadly only on a work basis, he gladly complied without fuss. feeling his hand brush, yours as he took the pen from your hand or getting to secretly glance at his face as he filled out the forms was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

you’d convinced yourself your crush was harmless. after all he was Roy Kent, an absolutely loaded footballer with an exterior tougher than diamond. its not like you flirted with him or stared at him. well not on purpose at least.

this weekend saw Richmond visiting another stadium a six-hour drive away for their next match. usually, you travelled with Rebecca but due to some other things she had to get done this weekend, aka a spa trip with Keeley you were secretly so jealous about, she had decided to send you as a representative. however, this also meant you got to arrive at Richmond Friday afternoon with a packed bag and a bunch of rowdy footballers.

“Well look who our newest bus buddy is,” Ted said, putting his hands on his hips as you approached the gaggle of men. “Hope you don’t mind being down graded to ride with us bunch of savages,” he joked as he ticked your name off his clipboard. you really did appreciate Teds soccer mom vibes.

You laughed as you dragged your suitcase up to stand by Ted at the bus, “Please how bad can it be? it’s just a bus,”

“Yeah, but with these twats,” Roy’s voice made Ted jump, but you just turned and smiled, ready to say hi, but Roy just walked past you. He picked up his suitcase, tossing it under the bus before turning back and picking yours up and placing yours in with far more care than he had with his own. When you said thanks, Roy just nodded before heading onto the bus, assumably to secure the most isolated spot he could.

Ted let out a low whistle as Roy walked off, “He’s a charmer alright,” he said, his eyes scurrying around before leaning down to whisper to you, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think he’s sweet on you,” You laughed but before you could even try to deny it Ted was pointing at your face, “and if I’m not blind you my friend are blushing,”

“Shut up Ted,” was all you managed to say before Nate walked over and thankfully Ted knew better than to keep going in front of him.

while you were talking to Nate and Ted the bus all the players had arrived and assembled on the bus. you were the last to climb on the bus since even though you knew it couldn’t be that bad six hours on a bus was still a dire experience. “Oi need a seat love?” Jamie hollered from the back of the bus, already tossing his bag to his feet.

“There’s a seat by me,” Dani pipped up from a few rows in front of Jamie.

you laughed, trying to think who would be the least awkward seat mate. however, as you went to move forward, figuring Dani would be less out right flirty than Jamie you were stopped by Roy standing up from his seat and stepping into the aisle.

when you looked up at him, expecting him to say something, he just looked down at the window seat he had just given up. you smiled as you moved to sit down, “Thanks,” you said squeezing past him, “Thanks boys but I prefer the front of the bus,” you said before settling down for the ride.

Roy dropped into the aisle seat and while you knew he was trying to keep in his seat the bus seats were only so big, so your thighs were bumping into each other, “Thanks for saving me,” you whispered to him.

Roy chuckled under his breath, “Really think I’d let you get tortured back there like that?” he whispered back making his voice sound even sexier if possible. the bus set off only a few minutes later and now you were trapped in a bus with 25 rowdy men who instantly started talking amongst themselves and playing bus games. “Bet you wish you’d never got on this bus,” Roy said in a low voice but with all the noise at least you didn’t have to whisper.

“Nah I don’t mind, honest,” you said, settling into your seat, “Sitting in a silent plane with Rebecca can get awkward,”

“Sorry I’ve not got any champagne for ya,” Roy joked and for the rest of the ride you actually talked the whole way which is the longest you’ve ever spoke to him for. you were almost sad when the bus pulled up outside the hotel.

without a word Roy had grabbed your suitcase and his, walking into the hotel still wrapped up in a debate about which ice cream flavour was superior. “Checking in together?” The receptionist asked making you blush, and Roy clear his throat.

“Eh no, separate,” he said, glancing down at you but you wish he hadn’t since you knew your cheeks were flaming hot as you gave the woman your information. however, after getting checked in Roy still carried your cases, taking them up to your room with you in silence. He sat the bag down in front of your room for you as you unlocked the door, “I’m just down the hall. 203. so eh if anyone gives you bother or these twats are too loud tonight give me a knock,”

“Will do captain,” you said, trying your best to stay composed as you got into your room, shutting the door behind you so you could freak out.

the next day was too hectic to even think about flirting with Roy or even catching a glimpse of him off the field. however, Richmond had managed to secure a tie which for them right now was a big win. however, what was not a big win was the fact that you had to get back in the coach that day since the team had a bunch of press to do tomorrow at Richmond.

between the game, the press interviews, everyone showering and getting into clean clothes, and checking out you weren’t even set to leave till 10pm despite the game kicking off at 1:30pm. you were already yawning as you came down the lift to the reception.

most of the boys were also absolutely shattered. running for 90 minutes straight at full speed was tiring enough without also having to pack and do press. you had got to sit during the game, but you also had the job of Rebecca all day so now you really understood why she needed that spa weekend. “Bus said it’ll be pulling up in five minutes,” you yawned as you sat your bag down, “Head count time,” you said.

you felt like a primary teacher, but you didn’t care as you walked around, counting each player as you put your hand on their head. they were all too tired to complain and even Issac let you touch his hair. “twenty three,” you said, counting Dani before stopping, “Wow your hair is soft,” you gasped before continuing as Dani beamed from his seat, “Twenty four,” you said, reaching up to pat Roy’s head but you were too tired to see the way he smiled at you when you did, “Twenty five,” you finished, putting your hand on your own head making Roy chuckle quietly. “We didn’t lose anyone, great job team. now shift it, I wanna sleep,”

“You heard her twats, get moving,” Roy said, his loud voice shocking everyone including the hotel staff. at least it got the boys moving though. Roy cleared his throat as he glanced down at you, “Need a seat buddy again?” he asked as you filed out behind all the boys.

you smiled up at him, “Yeah that’d be nice. Its your turn for the window seat,”

“I don’t mind, you keep it,” he said as you finally got to the bus. the boys were all tossing their cases in and filing into the bus with very few mumblings between them. you were silently thankful everyone was exhausted, “Just don’t fall asleep standing,” Roy’s joke snapped you back to reality as he loaded in your cases.

“Fine but I make no promises about the bus,” you said as you walked to get on, Roy offering for you to go first. a sweet gesture to you and silently Roy was grateful for the chance to check out your ass. “This seat, okay?” you said, plopping down into the first available seat. Roy didn’t even reply as he sat down next to you.

Ted was the last to get on and while you usually loved his speeches today you just did not care. “Now all yall try get some shut eye. Six hours of sleep would do you all the world of good right now,”

“Yes coach,” rang out in a sleepy chorus as everyone settled in to nap on the bus for the night.

as you looked around you saw Jamie in the seat across from you with a blanket already pulled over him and Dani a seat behind you with an eye mask on, “I am clearly not prepared,” you joked quietly to Roy.

Roy looked over, seeing his fellow teammates who were used to these late-night busses, “You can borrow my jacket if you get cold,” Roy said quietly making you inwardly melt, “Not much of a blanket but it’s warm,”

“I’ll think about it,” you yawned, making Roy smile as he saw how you stretched away your sleep. or well tried to. the ride set off and you could already hear soft snores across the bus. any of the boys who couldn’t sleep had headphones in and you had never been more grateful.

you sat in silence, looking out the window as the head lights of other cars went past and let yourself sink further into your seat. you barely noticed when Roy shrugged his jacket off or realise how close to him you were getting but you could feel your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.

Roy however had noticed the soft snores coming from you when your eyes had finally closed, unable to fight sleep off anymore. he was thankful everyone was asleep or not paying attention as he got to look down at you sleeping on his shoulder with a soft smile. after a few minutes, sure you were asleep, he gently pulled his jacket over you like a blanket.

he wasn’t sure when he had fell for you or why, but he’d known for weeks now that he liked you. hell, more than liked. there was just something about you and right now you looked downright adorable as you nuzzled further into him. Roy slipped his arm behind your back, allowing you to properly sleep on him and his hand to rest on your waist.

usually, Roy was far too tense or pent up in rides home to sleep on the bus, especially with a team he just knew were desperate to draw something on his face, but Roy was surprised when he opened his eyes and sunlight blinded him.

the bus was pulling up to Richmond at an ungodly 4 am when Roy realised, he had fallen asleep, his head resting on top of yours. without thinking, still in a sleepy state, Roy pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he moved to sit up. however, when he saw you stir awake, he kicked himself internally, “Are we here?” you yawned, pulling away from him and Roy already missed the feeling of you curled up to him.

“Looks like it,” Roy said as you looked down to realise it had been Roy’s jacket covering you, “You uh looked cold,” Roy said, clearing his throat and thankful he had a beard to cover the way his cheeks grew hot.

“Thanks,” you said, a sleepy smile playing your lips as the rest of the team started to wake. “Did you manage to sleep?”

“A bit yeah,” Roy said, and it was as you shuffle forward Roy realised his mistake when you looked down at his arm, “Sorry bout that,” he mumbled, quickly pulling his arm out from where it had been wrapped around your waist.

“It’s alright I don’t mind,” you said, a smile toying your lips as you stretched to try wake up.

without anything else said, really by anyone, you all filtered off the bus and Roy went to get both your suitcases. Roy cleared his throat as he went to pass yours to you, a nervous habit you’d only just really noticed, “Do you need a lift up the road? my cars just over there,”

“If you don’t mind that’d be great,” you said, so relieved you weren’t going to have to sleep in Rebeccas office, “Don’t hate me if I fall asleep in the car though,”

“Couldn’t hate you if I tried,” Roy said as he took the suitcase back and began to walk to his car. you blushed as you followed behind him, climbing into the passenger side as Roy loaded the bags in, “You all set?” Roy asked as he hopped into the driver’s seat.

when Roy glanced over, he couldn’t help but laugh when he noticed you were already asleep in the car. Roy reached over, buckling you in before getting ready to hit the road. he’d dropped you off a few times from work so he knew the way already, but Roy couldn’t stop himself stealing so many glances at the sight of you. there was no avoiding his feelings now. Roy Kent was in love.

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasson smut #ted lasso season one #roy kent #roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent x y/n #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #roy kent fanfic

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scarz-xo · 1 year ago

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23 years ago 9/11 happened, I wasn't even half a year old at that time, yet it affected me in several ways, I'm brown, middle eastern, Muslim, Arabic speaker & so on, I think you get the picture.

After 9/11 happened, Muslims & Arabs/middle easterns were viewed as terrorists, hate crimes increased too, Muslims were viewed as barbaric people, savages, couldn't integrate & so on.

How did that affect us?

You can't wear hijab in France for example, you can't speak in Arabic on the bus in England without someone calling you out for being a terrorist cause now you're on English lands, you better speak their language, you could get killed in the US cause there's no gun control whatsoever.

Hate spreads like wildfire & so it did against Arabs, middle easterns, Muslims & the Arabic language.

Why am I saying all that?

Because the IDF & Israel today tried to use the buried fear of the Arabic language & the ignorance of the west about it to their own appeal:

This is a freaking calendar but to some who are already scared of the language, that's enough terrorism.

People all over social media here in the East are making fun of that stupid little stunt but for me it depends inherently on the racism, islamophobia & fear of Arabic that has been fed to the west for decades. It's literally another racist move against Arabic speakers but it's Israel so I'm not surprised.

#palestine #israel #israel is a terrorist state #gaza #genocide #free palestine #ethnic cleansing #israel is an apartheid state #this is where the american taxes go #arabic #middle east #the west #calendar #2023 calendar #islam #islamophobia

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joes-sha-la-la-la-girl · 11 months ago

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Thank you Rocksy 🥰🥰

I found this on Pinterest yesterday @joes-sha-la-la-la-girl @elliotts-personal-property

#def leppard on a bus #def leppard #joe elliott #steve clark #phil collen #rick savage #rick allen

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lordprettyflackotara · 1 year ago

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sharp fangs || sam & colby || part two

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. sam and colby are vamps hehe🧛🏼‍♀️. TW: SMUT WITH PLOT. this fic contains blood, brief gore, murder but like it’s justified tbh. mainly you just have two vampire bfs obsessed with you lol. made this shit extra long. ps: part three will not take as long i promise. enjoy my beloved readers. MWAH <3

Sam and Colby absolutely adored you. You were the apple of their eye, the air that made them feel like they could breathe again. They couldn’t get enough of you, making a conscious effort to spend every moment they could with you. When you were away they’d clean your apartment. (Or snoop through your things.) When you went to sleep at night they’d take shifts watching over you while the other went out to hunt.

You were so darling while you slept, the contentment and peace on your face the sight of a lifetime to them. In all of their long years they had didn’t think they’d allow themselves to get attached to another human. After the first two hundred years they saw all of their companions die, leaving them alone with just one another. All of their past lovers met the same inevitable demise, death becoming an old friend of theirs.

The routine was beginning to become old, the two deciding interacting with humans was pointless. Humans were so fragile, so unfortunately disposable. Whoever they chose to get attached to could get hit by a bus and die, or catch a simple cold and it’d end the same. They shared the same fears with you, which they tried to repel by watching over you so heavily. You liked it in an odd way, having your two best friends become angels watching over you. Both Sam and Colby only shared two fears. They feared the day you’d unexpectedly die from a tragic occurrence. Turning you into one of them was out of the question, your soul deserving better than eternal damnation.

The only thing they feared more, was when you truly saw them for what they were. They knew everything about them was appealing to you. Their looks, their voice, even down to their scent. They believed you truly cared for them, but they weren’t convinced you actually comprehended how terrifying they could be. How savage and ruthless they could become. They feared once you realized this, a look of genuine horror spread across your face, you’d wish them away. Forever.

Often times they tried to ignore this fear. After all, right now you were standing in between them, asking them questions about being a vampire. Your fingers were intertwined with Sam’s, Colby’s arm lazily hanging over your shoulders. “Coffins?” You asked. Colby chuckled, an ice cold winter breeze flying past the three of you. “Did we bring coffins when we moved in?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, hoping the boys didn’t notice your visible shivering. They did.

It wasn’t unusual for the three of you to go out for a snack late at night, the empty streets allowing Sam and Colby to be visible without disguises or questions. “Alright alright. How about garlic? I may be Italian, you never know,” You asked. Sam had given you his jacket a few minutes ago, your lips still turning more white by the second. How had they not thought this through better? As the blonde looked down at your eyes, the soft doe kind that made their frozen hearts flutter, he remembered. Right, that’s why.

“Human food doesn’t bother us. You can make as much garlic bread to your hearts content,” Sam replied, placing a small kiss to the side of your head. Small snowflakes had entangled themselves in your hair, Sam’s lips forming a frown. You were willing to make yourself this cold and potentially sick for a twinkie? The three of you finally approached the tiny store, Colby handing you a wad of cash. “Jesus Christ, a twinkie does not cost more than a hundred dollars Colbs,” You gasped, looking at the wad of crisp and shiny hundred dollar bills. “I read about inflation all the time. Just get a few snacks so you won’t have to nearly freeze to death for a twinkie,” He insisted.

You smiled softly, placing a kiss on Colby’s cheek. “Alright i’ll be back,” You say, before dipping into the grocery store. Sam and Colby preferred to stand outside, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention. “We didn’t have twinkies in our time right?” Colby asked. Sam let out a chuckle. “Dude we were actively there for the salem witch trials. We absolutely did not have twinkies,” He answered. Colby teasingly elbowed him, the two leaning against the brick wall outside of the store.

“Just double checking. Couldn’t recall if we were around to try those hyped up little rolls,” Colby told him. It was odd when they thought about it, how long they had roamed the earth. It was always just the two of them during life and then resurrection. They couldn’t help but feel like you were the final piece to the puzzle, the third to the trio. Yet they feared how long they’d actually have with you. Especially when you opted to eat twinkies a majority of the time instead of actual food. (Colby had agreed to learn how to cook just to get you to eat better.)

Sam’s ears twitched for a split second, the sound of footsteps flooding them. He looked around, both him and Colby as still as statues. “You hear that?” He asked the brunette. Colby nodded, equally as on alert. The weather was undoubtedly freezing. No economic crisis was occurring, there would be no reason for a regular human to be roaming the streets this late at night. “I’ll go check it out. Stay with her and i’ll meet you guys back at the apartment,” Colby huffed, dashing off into the night. The ringing of the bell attached to the store door rang, your happy face emerging into sight. You had already broken into one of your twinkies, taking a big bite. You went to hand Sam the wad of cash, before searching for Colby.

“Where’s Colby?” You asked, wiping the white cream off of your bottom lip. Sam’s mind briefly went to filth, before resuming to the matter at hand. He didn’t want to worry you, but he also didn’t want to lie. Since they had met you they had agreed to not lie, the truth something you’d have to handle if you wanted them around. “He’s off investigating something he heard. He’ll meet us back at the apartment,” Sam explained. You laced your fingers with Sam’s, allowing the blonde to walk you across the street. “You think it’s another one of your kind?” You asked, taking another bite of your twinkie.

Sam purposefully kept you on the side away from the road, ensuring no car would hit you if it came brawling your way. Especially with the icy roads, Sam knew human drivers would be unpredictable. (Big shocker: he wasn’t a fan of automobiles when they came out.) “I doubt it. This is our territory now. Our scent is everywhere,” Sam reassured you. You shoved the empty wrapper in your pocket, leaning on Sam for support as he walked you home. His body was cold and statue like, yet you found comfort the more you touched him.

The three of you didn’t want to make things confusing after you all met. After all, the sex was just supposed to be a one time thing. A peace offering in the boys minds. That’s what it was supposed to be. Yet the memory constantly lingering in the forefront of all of yours minds. There was a not so subtle craving that you all wanted it to happen again, the timing just not seemingly right. Sam and Colby didn’t believe in rushing things, even if you didn’t have all the time in the world as they did. Snow crushed underneath your sets of footsteps, Sam’s hearing acutely on alert for intruders.

Yet he couldn’t find it within himself to hear anything over the soothing sound of your heartbeat. It was music to his ears, the sound gratifying to him. It was so soothing in fact, it was distracting. This distraction created the perfect element of surprise for a man in a ski mask to emerge from the alleyway shadows, grabbing you. “Sam!” You screeched, thrashing against the criminals grasp. Sam was forced to let go of your hand, knowing he’d accidentally tear it off if he held onto you and played tug of war against the criminal. Sam could hear it now, the disgusting blood flowing through the lowlifes veins. He had been so blinded by how ethereal your presence was and now he was paying the price.

The flash of a blade sent Sam into an angry frenzy, baring his fangs at the attacker. “Sam! Help me! Colby!” You screamed, your voice echoing off of the alleyway walls. In the blink of an eye Colby was on the attacker, biting into the side of his neck. The grasp on you was released, your body falling to the ground. You quickly turned around, moving backwards on the icy sidewalk. Colby wasn’t feeding onto your attacker, his gaze was much more intense than that. Much more unhinged. He yanked his head backwards, tearing his throat apart. You barely had time to blink before Sam was on the other side of the attacker, copying Colby’s actions.

Clumps of flesh hit the ground, streams of blood flowing everywhere that you looked. Your attacker was long dead, your heart thumping so loud you thought it may burst out of your chest. You continued to back away, your back hitting a street lamp as you watched Sam and Colby. Any mortality they had, any sense of pride or self control had been washed away by the biggest wave. Neither of them were hungry, the taste of the attackers blood sickening. They received no satisfaction from feeding on him, their animalistic craving ordering them to tear the threat apart.

So they did, the man’s neck now a pile of unidentifiable blood and flesh. You swallowed, staring at your best friends. The ones who did your laundry and watched sitcoms shows with you. The ones who looked over you every single moment of the day, even when you didn’t want them to. The same ones who had once fucked you merciless, your life never having been the same afterwards. Blood coated both of their hands, the same crimson paint dripping down their chins and necks. Sam’s maroon sweater was now soaked, Colby’s leather jacket stained with splatters.

Sam dropped the attacker first, his eyes darting around in search of you. You were a pitiful sight, one Sam wished he didn’t have to see. You were on the ground, your back hugging the closest streetlight. Your hands were buried into handfuls of snow, your fingers turning red from the cold. Your eyes were widen, your gaze refusing to stray from him and Colby. Sam swallowed, the rancid taste of the attackers blood still coating his tongue. He walked in front of you, crouching down to your eye level. “I’m so, so sorry,” He whispered. You looked terrified, surely of them. Sam was very sure, his eyes soaking in what he figured to be the last time he’d see you.

Colby quickly joined his side, the corpse abandoned behind them. You had never seen so much blood before, the color seemingly everywhere you looked. “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Colby cooed. He brought his hand up to your cheek, lovingly stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. The blood was staining your skin, the feeling unnatural and making you slightly uneasy. Yet, when you looked at the two killers in front of you, you felt nothing but pure awe. Sam was trying to find the words to say to you, expecting the worst. Colby didn’t seem to have the same thoughts as him, which only made the situation ten times worse.

“I-I-I-” You began stuttering, unable to form a coherent sentence. How could you do it? How could you ever thank them? They saved your life. The faint sound of sirens interrupted the conversation, the boys heads turning to the left at the same time. “Sorry princess the conversation is going to have to wait. Let’s get you home,” Colby said, scooping you into his arms. You curled up against his chest, the stench of blood flooding your nostrils as you nuzzled against his shirt.

The boys had gotten you inside safely, setting you down on the couch gently. “Do you need anything? Water? Food?” Colby asked. There were only a handful of things a human could need, surely there were maybe five max. In his mind at least. Sam’s mind was soaring in the other direction, his mouth running dry. You shook your head no, meeting their gaze. “Thank you,” You said. Sam blinked a few times, trying to ensure he heard you correctly. “We’d do anything for you,” Colby answered, crouching in front of you. The blonde braced himself, sure this was the end.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do my best to protect you. I know what you’re doing to do and I just have to say that I-” Sam began, your widened eyes stopped him. Fuck, you really had no idea the power you had over them. The three forbidden words were on the tip of his tongue, the ones that would only make this harder. You quickly rose to your feet, cupping his face into your hands. Gratitude had washed over you, your body demanding to give them a reward. You couldn’t deny that although unsettling, the sight of them covered in your attackers remains made your heart skip a beat.

“I wanna thank both of you, for saving my life,” You say, looking up into Sam’s red orbs. A thousand thoughts ran through the blondes head, many of them thinking they had broke your sanity or something along those lines. “Are you not scared?” Colby asked, approaching you from behind and resting his hands around your waist. You shook your head no. “You both won’t hurt me,” You answered. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t know that. You saw what we did. We ripped his throat apart. Tore him to shreds,” Sam huffed, “What exactly makes you so confident we wouldn’t do that to you?”

His words were hurtful, even if they did hit the hammer on the nail. “You did that to protect me. I know you. I know you both. You won’t hurt me,” You answered again, more confident this time. Colby exchanged a look with Sam, the gears in his brain finally turning the same way his were. “I think what Sam is trying to say is that what you just saw was a lot to process. It is for us, which means it has to mean even more to a human-” He began, your sharp eyes turning around to meet his. Your eyes were shooting daggers, a look Colby knew to not threaten. “Enough with the whole ‘weak human’ bullshit. I may not be immortal but I have a brain you know,” You snapped.

Yeah, Sam had came to the conclusion that they broke you.

“And what does your brain tell you about what you just saw? About the two blood soaked demons that are standing in your living room?” Sam questioned. Your facial expression softened, your eyes resuming their doe like fashion. “They’re telling me that you’re both vampires. Vampires with habits and tendencies I anticipated. Ones that don’t scare me,” You answered. Why didn’t they understand? Could they understand?

Your words seemed so sincere, both boys back on you. It was Colby in front of you this time, Sam’s chest pressing against your back. “We are so sorry you had to see that,” Colby told you. He grabbed your chin, guiding you to look up at him. They could hear your heart skip a beat, the blood smudging against your soft skin. “It’s okay. If it makes you guys feel better, you both look awfully hot covered in blood like this,” You say, biting your bottom lip. Sam pressed himself against your ass, his hands traveling up to your breast.

“Really, is that so?” Colby hummed, smirking down at you. He centered his thumb on your bottom lip, pulling it down teasingly. “In that case, let us show you how sorry we really are,” Sam murmured into your ear, pressing a kiss against your earlobe. You groaned, his large hands kneading at your breast. “Open your mouth princess,” Colby muttered. You did so, flattening out your tongue on display. The brunette could feel himself getting hard, watching you eagerly suck his thumb as he put it into your mouth. The taste of blood coated your tongue, your pupils dilating as you looked into Colby’s eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” Colby praised. He removed his thumb from your eager mouth, replacing it with his lips. His taste made you feel drunk, your body becoming putty in between the boys as Sam tweaked your nipples. He chuckled darkly into your neck as they hardened under his ice cold fingertips. “Always so eager,” Sam murmured, sucking hickies onto your neck. He could feel your veins, hearing the blood flow through your delicate body. Colby’s tongue slid into your mouth, the brunette careful to not nip you with his fangs. Your desperation only made them harder, your sinful noises only becoming louder.

“Fuck, i’ve missed this,” Colby panted, pulling away from your lips. A thin string of saliva hung between both of your lips, your lips now swollen. “We’ve missed this,” Sam corrected, working on his third hickey. Colby dropped to his knees, eager to please you. “Let me taste you, fucking please, just wanna make tonight up to you,” Colby pleaded, his desperation washing over him. You could feel Sam’s hips roll against yours teasingly, ripping a groan out of your throat. “Answer him baby,” Sam encouraged, the smell of your arousal flooding his nose. You licked your lips, your balance unsteady.

Sam’s large hands kept you in place, his assault on your throat relentless. “Please, do whatever you want to me,” You whined, raking your fingers through Colby’s hair. The brunette quickly pulled down your skirt and stockings, accidentally tearing them in the process. “We’ll buy you new ones,” He muttered, bringing your panties down to your ankles. Your slick was drenched for them, Colby’s eyes blown with lust as he admired your cunt. This is all he could think about since the last time he saw you like this, so wet and desperate.

“Go on baby, use Colby’s tongue the way you need,” Sam said encouragingly. You pulled him towards you by his hair, his eager tongue lapping up your juices. Your knees almost buckled, Sam quick to keep you in place. The blonde was having a hard time restraining himself, your blood calling to him. Your smell was always so delightful and it only became more so when you were a moaning mess. “Sammy,” You whined, using your spare hand to grab his wrist. Colby’s lips sucked at your clit, making it harder to form coherent sentences.

“Yes baby?”

“Drink from me,” You panted, grinding against Colby’s face. Sam blinked, unable to deny or question your request. Your blood was sweeter than any others he had tasted, his body always yearning to have another taste of you. He slowly sank his sharp fangs into you, the piercing pain subsiding into a blinding euphoria. “Oh my God,” You whined, clawing at Colby’s hair. His large hands were keeping your thighs pried open, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Sam drank from your neck like a starving man. “Thats it princess, keep using me. Make yourself cum on my tongue,” Colby ordered, the sight of you crumbling enough to make him want to cream his pants.

Sam managed to pull himself off of you, panting as he did so. Your blood was so intoxicating, so addicting. It’s like you were made for them. He lapped at your neck, cleaning your wound as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Fuck fuck fuck,” You whimpered. Sam slithered one of his hands around your waist to keep you upright, using the other to guide your head to turn. He brought his lips to yours, swallowing each noise you made with his mouth. You could taste your own blood, the metallic taste sending you over the edge. You pulled at Colby’s roots are you came, your vision clouded with stars.

Colby emerged from between your thighs, bruises of where his hands had held your thighs apart already forming. Sam picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You smashed your lips against his, the boys bringing you to your bedroom. Your back hit your plush mattress, the boys switching positions. Colby stood in between your legs, undoing his belt. “You sure you can handle me princess? I won’t go easy on you like Sam,” He smirked, causing Sam to roll his eyes. You nodded eagerly, reaching behind you to undo Sam’s belt.

“I’m not just a human Colbs. I can handle whatever you throw at me,” You say, as cocky as you can muster. The boys exchanged mischievous looks, their cocks throbbing with excitement. You laid your head back, quickly helping Sam take off his pants. You could feel your core throbbing with desire, Colby making himself right at home in between your legs. He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, soaking in the feeling. You stuck your tongue for Sam, eagerly awaiting his cock. The mere sight of it was making your mouth water.

“You have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to fuck you,” Colby confessed, pushing himself inside of you. You moaned, your noises being muffled by Sam’s cock as he placed it inside of your mouth. The vibrations sent a chill down his spine, your name falling off of his lips. “Fucking hell, you’ve got to try her mouth,” Sam groaned, pushing himself down your throat deeper. Colby grinned as he bottomed out, your walls milking his cock.

“Trust me I remember, everything about her is a slice of heaven,” He replied, gripping your waist harshly. He began to move slowly, slithering one of his hands down to your clit. Your thighs trembled at the extra stimulation, Colby’s thrust speeding up rapidly. Both boys seemed to be in a state of heat, their hips moving faster than you could keep up. “You’re so pretty like this,” Sam praised, watching the shape of his cock go up and down your throat. Colby bit his bottom lip, his sinful noises threatening to spill out at a rapid rate.

“You’re taking me so well. Like you were made for me,” Colby grunted. He drew faster circles around your clit, your waterline flooding with tears as Sam’s cock abused the back of your throat. They were merciless, hell bent on making you cum whilst chasing their own highs. “Made for us,” Sam corrected, his orgasm coming quickly. He pulled himself out of your throat, watching as you stuck your tongue out, desperately trying to lick the underside of his cock. He jerked his shaft above you, depositing his seed directly into your mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot, my fucking God,” Sam panted, watching you eagerly swallow his cum. Your mouth was free to moan now, your mascara smudged and tears peaking at the corner of your eyes. “Just like that, please, feels so good Colbs,” You babbled. Colby grabbed both of your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. He felt impossibly deeper, his cock abusing your g spot as it pleased. “You’re fucking milking me princess, it’s like you want me to cum inside of you,” Colby moaned, his thrust relentless.

Sam snickered as he lowered himself near your ear. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be bred by him? By both of us? Such a dirty girl, wanting to be bred by demons,” Sam snickered, licking the side of your neck. You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm, your body beginning to tremble. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” You warned. One of your hands found Sam’s squeezing it tightly as you felt your orgasm wash over you. He now felt what Colby felt before, the butterflies swarming around his stomach at the romantic gesture.

Colby’s hips stuttered, his thrust coming to a halt as he came inside of you. He slowly pulled out of you, collapsing on the other side of the bed. The rooms sounds consisted of your rapid breathing and heartbeat, for Sam and Colby at least. Colby stroked your hair as you calmed down, Sam’s hand never straying from yours.

“Hey guys?” You hummed. Sam could’ve jumped on his feet right then and there. Anything you needed. Anything you wanted. He’d eagerly walk to the ends of the earth to get it for you. “Yeah?” He replied, awaiting your orders. You giggled, looking over at him.

“Wanna have a round two?”

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