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immajustvibehere · 8 months

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Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader

Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)

summary: Arthur wonders why you, the most touchy person who doesn't mind hugging and being close to everyone in the gang, avoids him. Then you catch him alone one night and he finds solace in your closeness.

warning: Mentioning of Micah's abuse, it's platonic now but maybe second part for some lover action if y'all want?

2400 words, about 10-13 minutes reading time

Arthur didn't understand how you could be so open, giggly, and affectionate with anyone in the gang but him. Your willingness to engage in physical touch made no difference of man, woman or child. He had started to observe your interactions with others more closely, ever since he had found out that they gave him a bitter feeling of jealousy. You held hands with the girls, play-wrestled with Jack, leaned into Hosea's hugs at the camp-fire or happily jumped on Sean's back for some piggyback rides. Even when talking to someone, you'd stand unusually close, a hand on the arm of whoever you were conversing with.

Everyone came to you with their problems, because they knew they could expect hugs or soft caressing. Your role as source of comfort and support within the gang was truly valued, but you weren't stupid or overly naive when it came to intimacy. When you found it not appreciated or uncomfortable, you'd soon let it be. After Micah had joined the gang, Arthur had kept a close eye on how you proceeded around him. For a couple of weeks, until he had settled in, you had kept your distance before approaching him. Arthur almost boiled when he saw how gently you rested your hand on his arm and he almost intervened when he saw Micah's prudish reaction of pulling you closer, groping you and asking if you were the camp's whore. After this encounter with Micah, you wisely chose to keep your distance.

Arthur wondered if he had done something wrong, but he coulnd’t remember any occasion where he would have abused your trust. You had been closer to him before, but it seemed a long time ago. You'd lean into him during story times or greet him with a hug after coming back from a big score…but eventually, it had stopped. Had he given an unintentional signal that he didn't want to be touched?

Those were Arthur’s thoughts as he sat opposite of you at the campfire. You were seated on the log which Javier used as backrest. You sat exactly behind him, your arm and head resting on his shoulder. Sometimes, Javier would snuggle his cheek against your arm. A lover's touch, Arthur thought. He wondered about certain situations that felt needlessly…loving. Keeping in mind that you weren't as restrained and conservative when it came to touches, he thought that some people tended to abuse that. Dutch, especially. You'd sit on his lap and while Arthur was sure your thoughts were naive and you'd just figured out that Dutch likes the attention and you saw nothing more behind it than similar physical intimacy you granted the others, Arthur was convinced that Dutch's thoughts weren't as pure. It was he who had picked you up from a saloon one day, praising your carefree and happy character, warning everyone to respect you. But when he pulled you onto his lap, Arthur swore it was a patronizing move with afterthoughts. Not that he thought either one of you would act upon it.

But it riled Arthur. You'd hold Lenny's hand when he had a bad day and even massage Uncle's back if he asked kindly enough…but Arthur had been ignored for a while now. Arthur had been starring at you and Javier, at your arm that rested so comfortably on him, but as Arthur's eyes wandered up with the intent of studying your face, he found you staring back at him. Slowly, you receded your arm and sat up straight, no longer in contact with the man in front of you. Arthur felt like you had caught him daydreaming. Then you nodded towards the outer rims of camp, standing up and signalling Arthur to follow. He waited a few moments and gave you a head start, before following you into the darkness, away from the group and the campfire.

Arthur had soon caught up with you, as you headed straight for the little patch of woods.

"What're ya up to?", he asked, watching you curiously as you made your way through the forest.

"Nothing specifically, will you join me for a walk though?", you invited with a kind smile.

"Sure. Ain't exactly safe to wander away from camp in the middle of the night", Arthur commented and stomped through the dry leaves on the ground, right at your side.

"How have you been recently?", you asked, your eyes trying to catch his.

"Jus' fine."

"Mh, don't you lie to me, Mr. Morgan. I can tell you have something on your mind."

"Yer that good at reading people?", Arthur said surprised.

You giggled: "Not particularly. But you always have something on your mind, so that wasn't a far-reaching guess."

"Suppose not", Arthur chuckled warmly.

"So?"

Arthur shrugged and caringly extended his arm for you to hold onto, as you climbed over a fallen dead tree. For a moment, he was very focused on your warm and soft hand that had a tight grip on his arm as you tried not to lose balance. Though as soon as the obstacle had been crossed, your touched ceased from his arm, only its memory remained a while longer.

"I don't like 'round here. The way we are foolin' with both of 'em families. I don't think it'll work out,” Arthur said truthfully, "Besides, I don't like the stifling weather."

"I understand", you answered. You never argued when someone was confiding in you, neither did you come up with solutions, if not requested. But you listened, and this was enough.

By now, you had crossed the woods and had reached the meadow with some old ruins of houses and fences. You strolled towards a wall barely higher than a log and watched as Arthur sat down on it. You stood in front of him, carefully inching closer between his legs. Then you reached out and fixed his collar: "Has been annoying me all night..."

Arthur blushed profusely at this domestic gesture, but you barely noticed as you sat down next to him.

"You saw Mary Linton back in Valentine, didn't you?"

"I did", Arthur admitted briefly.

"So tell me more! I bet it's been on your mind", you said.

"I don't know,” Arthur sighed, “I think I miss what we had, but I'm no idiot. It didn't work before, and it wouldn't work now… Maybe I am an idiot, 'cause I keep entertaining those thoughts."

"Why wouldn't it work?"

"Ain't the best time to go off and stay away from camp. There's always something happening, I'd feel like a fool if I pursued her. Besides, her daddy never liked me and that for sure didn't change."

"What would make you happy, though?", you asked and looked at him. Arthur looked you in the eye.

"I think I just miss having a woman by my side. Marston is a damn fool to behave so cold around Abigail and little Jack,” Arthur complained. His gaze wandered off in the distance, searching for a landmark to focus on.

"He'll come around eventually", you smiled, knowing a lot more about John's situation after he had confided in you only a few weeks prior.

"I hope. I just want him to do right by her and the boy,” Arthur said.

"There it is,” you smiled and bumped your legs into his, "big, bad outlaw – lovingly caring for his friend’s wife and kid."

"Yer a damn tease, don't know how they all flock to you talking about their problems", Arthur quipped, now bumping his shoulder into yours. To his surprise, you stayed leaned against it, sighing happily and watching as he lit himself a cigarette.

Suddenly, your hand now rested on his arm, very lovingly and gently.

"All of a sudden, huh?", Arthur commented.

"All of a sudden what?"

"The touchin' and listenin' and stuff. Thought you'd keep ignoring me."

"What? Ignoring you? I'm sorry if I gave you this impression...I thought you didn't like that with other people around."

Your hand had disappeared from his arm, which pained Arthur.

You were right, of course you were. Arthur wasn't too big of a fan of showing that he needed loving attention as much as anyone, but you had figured it out. And now he realised why you had stopped, because you always felt him tensing up, shutting down and avoiding your gaze when you initiated some intimacy.

"Oh", Arthur mouthed. Now he took your hand and placed it on his thigh, squeezing it lightly, "I'm a moron, Miss y/n. I didn't realize you had picked up on that."

You smiled, satisfied that you'd been right, and leaned your head against his shoulder.

"I feared I had said something improper to scare you away", Arthur admitted in a quiet voice.

Of course not, you thought, if anyone in the gang was as gentle, pure and seemes the revel in those little touches, it was Arthur. And it was rewarding to see him soak up those little attentions like a sponge.

"Then you're right about being a fool. You haven't done anything wrong, Arthur", you said and squeezed his hand to emphasize those words. Hearing his first name roll from your lips had something very comforting. Arthur felt right at home, though he was sitting in a field.

"Yer a good person", Arthur said, "I'm damn sure you're the person holding this gang together. We'd have crumbled if it wasn't for you."

"You're giving me too much credit. You work way harder to keep us on track", you admitted and snuggled your face on his shoulder. Your thumb was slowly stroking his arm, Arthur watched shyly how the finger disturbed the hair that was growing on his forearm.

He had forgotten how much he needed that.

You heard the shaky breath the man next to you took.

"'s it dumb that I enjoy that?"

"No. Not at all", you honestly answered.

"What's the most ridiculous thing you've ever done for one of the fellers?", Arthur asked, feeling slightly embarrassed about asking you for something, even though all it would have been is if he could wrap an arm around you. After all, you had initiated all touch.

"Mh, well Micah-"

"No that", Arthur scoffed, "Could have beaten this rat's head in when he called you names, but i felt like you could handle the situation."

"Yes, I had", you said, squeezing his arm.

"I meant more like...did any of the man ever request something funny?"

You giggled: "Oh, you'd be surprised. But I won't tell you. Their secrets are as save with me as yours would, so don't feel bad about asking. I've heard that I give brilliant head-massages."

"That so?", Arthur said.

But he kindly refused the offer to lie his head in your lap, but when he offered this service in return, he was surprised when you readily agreed. "Thought you'd never ask!"

With your head resting on his thigh and looking up into the night sky, you could feel his muscles flex and tense under the weight of your head. Arthur took a while until he relaxed, even longer until he leisurely started to play with strands of your hair. He was very gentle, barely daring to touch your head and only letting few strands of hair run through his fingers.

Arthur closed his eyes and could imagine things that he normally would never let himself indulge in. A family, a cabin out west, a wife and a kid. Boy or girl or both, it didn't matter. A time where he didn't have to worry about the law chasing him down. Maybe, also a dog.

Lost in thoughts and thinking about what could have been, Arthur lost sense of time. It was your voice that brought him back to reality after a while.

"Arthur, dear? I'm getting a little tired. Could we head back?", your voice was soft and whispery. It didn't quite shake him up from his dreams. It's as if his wife called him back inside. But of course, you weren't his wife. And there was no "inside", only back to camp, back to the others.

"Of course, sorry. I didn't want to keep ya from sleepin'", Arthur apologized and waited until you had risen, before standing up himself with a stifled groan.

"I enjoyed this a lot, you know", you admitted. Even though neither of you had spoken, you felt like you had been part of Arthur's imaginations. And maybe found some solace in the same little dreams that he had.

"Me too. Thank you", Arthur said, and still was surprised when you hugged him gently. He hesitated for a moment, before putting his hand in the small of your back. Arthur felt good. It was a feeling that he hadn’t felt in a while. Having confided in you, the intimacy…there was this warm sensation in his chest. It had been a energizing experience, to say the least, dreaming without being judged.

You walked back with your arm intertwined with Arthur's. So not to "trip" on branches in the darkness, but also because it felt right. Arthur didn't dare to ask if that could become a regular thing. You only said good night when you had reached camp and he watched as you walked off to your bedroll.

Something had changed though, because the hugs after coming back from a long day of robbing and killing came back. Suddenly, when you handed him a plate of stew, your fingers would briefly touch. Whenever you found the opportunity, and Arthur gave you plenty, you fixed his collar or suspenders. With time, he lost the hesitation and would pull you closer when you were busy with dusting off his shirt.

Yet, you were occupied most of the nights. Arthur would see you at the jetty, talking with Lenny or deep in concentration while playing a game of Dominoes with Bill. You’d help Kieran with the horses and most of all, you’d always take time for Jack. It was you that put Jack to bed most nights, Abigail exchanged a few words with Arthur one morning on what a great help you’d been. From this point onwards, Arthur loved watching from a distance when you interacted with Jack. Slowly, an idea started to form. Maybe, if he worked up the courage, he could ask you to spend a night or two away from camp. Take Jack with them, as a kind gesture towards Abigail and to give the boy some distraction from his daily life in camp. Hell, you spent more time with him than John did anyways, and Arthur doubted that Abigail would have trouble entrusting you with him for a few nights. But it involved asking you…out, sort of. It wasn’t such a selfless action, though Jack would benefit, Arthur craved some time with you alone. And Arthur wasn’t sure if asking for this was overstepping a line.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Second part with Arthur taking out reader and Jack? Anyone interested? Wanna be tagged?

Second Part here!

#arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption community #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction

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atinystraynstay · 4 months

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Call It What You Want - Kang Yeosang

Synopsis: Yeosang was a mysterious guy on your campus. He was the guy who was at every party thrown, but also would spend hours studying in the library. He got good grades but could also drink more than fraternity brother. He was a puzzle that you were trying to figure out. Little did you know, you were the missing piece to his own puzzle.

"Are labels really that important when I am 100% certain about my feelings for you?"

Pairing: non-idol!Kang Yeosang x reader

Genre: Angst - unofficial relationship, uncertainty, friends with benefits turned to lovers.

Warnings: PG-13 - contains implied sexual intercourse, alcohol consumption, implied female masturbation

Word Count: 4.3k

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Yeosang was a mysterious man, even to those that personally knew him. He never really let off what his emotions were right away.

He was a man capable of multiple things. He had two personalities - one that was a tough, rigid guy who had his mind set on one thing. It would be impossible to get him to reconsider. He then also had this soft side of his personality that lured people in. Yeosang was always calm and composed. Overall though, he was like royalty. People worshipped the ground he walked on.

You were tucked away in his world. You got to experience both sides of him and then more. A lot more.

Your chest was rising and falling, holding Yeosang's comforter up to your chest. This was a regular routine for you and Yeosang. Every week, at some point or another, you would find yourself in his bed.

Last night, tequila was the motivating factor that led you into his bedroom. It started off innocent, Yeosang just checking in on you. You both were at the same party, but attended with different people. However, once you spotted him and the alcohol settled in your system, you decided it was only appropriate you grinded your hips back into him.

Eagerly, Yeosang ordered an Uber for the two of you. You couldn't remember much once you stepped into his apartment except for the quiet giggles, hands all over each other, and rushes kisses.

And now here you were. It was 8:08am. It was always a rush to be sleeping with Yeosang, but lately, you were craving more. More than just what friends with benefits are meant to be.

Yeosang and you met after being in the same writing seminar freshman year. It was a requirement for first years, to help them get accustomed to the writing styles expected of them. The two of you didn't take the class too seriously, often coming in late or skipping all together. You weren't expecting to be friends with Yeosang, considering he was rather quiet in class.

That's how the friendship began to blossom. You would hang out either at his apartment or yours. It was also how you got close with Yeosang's roommates - Yunho, San, Mingi, and Wooyoung.

You two quickly became friends on an intimate level. It started when you were confiding in Wooyoung how frustrated you were with meeting guys on Tinder. With your busy schedule, you weren't really trying to date in college. Yet, you still had needs. You figured one night stands would end up being your best option, but each guy left you more disappointed than the one before.

Big mistake in confiding in Wooyoung. Word quickly spread to Yeosang, who offered himself to help with your situation.

At first, you thought he was just mocking you. Sure, you could resort to masturbation or buying sex toys, but you loved the feeling of someone's body on yours. You craved the feeling of wandering hands on your skin, causing the goosebumps to rise and your heart to race with excitement. You even wanted to spend minutes rushing to cover up hickies before going to lectures.

You just had no idea how happy Yeosang was to help you out.

It started by hooking up when you were the most stressed - two days before exam day. You would spend the week trying to study as much as possible. Yet, Yeosang always noticed the way you would increasingly hunch over the table. It was as if you were being consumed by the stress and sex was the only remedy.

Soon, once a week became twice a week. You'd hit up Yeosang late at night, often when you were feeling the most lonely. And every time, Yeosang was wide awake and waiting for you with open arms. He would either make sweet love to you, reminding you of how cherished you are, or he would be willing to fuck you into his mattress.

Now, twice a week was almost every other night. You were over at Yeosang's more than you were at your own apartment. There even was a toothbrush waiting for you in his bedroom.

As seniors in college, things were starting to shift for you.

"Surprised you are up, darlin.'"

You jumped slightly at the sound of the deep voice behind you. He snickered before moving to wrap an arm around you, pulling you in closer to him. "Not like you to be up this early," he murmured. You felt yourself shiver, your heart racing, as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck.

The Yoesang campus knew would have never guessed he used pet names the way he just casually dropped them with you. If anything, they were probably convinced he had a stone-cold heart as he rarely showed emotion to others. The only time he seemed happy was if he was with his usual group.

But if you saw him walking alone through campus? His gaze was locked in front of him. He never smiled at people he passed, so people often avoided him.

"I'm also not the type of person to drink that much tequila," you sighed. Your face was moving to burrow into the pillow beneath you, which only made Yeosang laugh more.

Deep down, you knew you couldn't get tired of Yeosang. The physical chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. He also has become such a pivotal part of your life, as someone you confided in. He saw you truly at your lowest and highest.

I guess that is what made it easy to fall for him. The way he treated you made you feel like a princess. You couldn't help but wonder if there was something more than just friends with benefits.

As your dating life hit obstacles, Yeosang was quick to remind you of your worth. He would take you out into the city, treating you to dinner or attending events with you. He was also rather affectionate with you, a quickly you didn't see often even with his closest friends. He seemed a bit standoffish to the rest of the world. Yet, with you, you were the one that seemed to crack the code of who was Kang Yeosang.

There was no way you would dare to open up that conversation. For the most part, you were content with just being friends with benefits. Emphasis on the friends part. He was too important in your life just to allow the rush of butterflies to override your brain. Part of you was convinced that you only felt this way about Yeosang was because you had been single for some time now, and Yeosang offered everything that you wanted in a partner.

You only seemed to allow yourself to play into that fantasy when you were alone in your bedroom. Often, with your fingertips playing with your clit as you would close your eyes to think what it would be like to be Kang Yeosang's girlfriend.

"I think I'm going to hop in the shower. Care to join me for round 2?" "As much as I'd love that, I think I need to get something in my stomach." "Yeah, of course. Why don't you let me shower up real quick and we'll figure out where to go, ok?"

Just another reason why you adored Yeosang. He never pressured you to have sex with him, even though you often felt things were one-sided between the two of you. It was always you messaging him first, always you who orgasmed first. Sometimes, you wished Yeosang would be selfish and ask for you to come over.

As Yeosang slipped into his bedroom, you took the time to slip on one of Yeosang's shirt. He never seemed to mind, as you often left his place wearing one of his shirts. You were positive three or four had claimed refuge in your dresser. Before you ventured downstairs, you also made sure to slip on a pair of clean boxers from Yeosang's own dresser.

Hearing the shower head turn on, you slipped downstairs. You heard a slight commotion from downstairs. But you didn't need to see to already know the rest of the house was up and active.

"And look who it is. Mrs. Kang, nice of you to show your face instead of just hearing you," Mingi called out with a playful smirk.

The rest of the boys were crowded around the kitchen island, eating cereal except for San. He had his back turned towards you and the rest of the group. They were all snickering at Mingi's comment but quickly stopped when you smacked the back of Mingi's head.

"Where is the boyfriend anyways? Still asleep?" Yunho asked. "First of all, he is not my boyfriend. Second, could it kill any of you to make coffee?" You playfully whined. "Already on it, chief," San called out.

He stepped to reveal the glorious sight coffee being brewed in the coffee pot. You could just kiss San right now! "At least I can always depend on you, San," you said playfully.

All the boys were special to you, all thanks to Yeosang. They easily became like brothers of your own, having a special place in your heart. You kissed San's cheek gently before going to retrieve two coffee mugs for you, San, and Yeosang who would eventually appear.

"Don't let Yeosang see you. He might get jealous," Wooyoung laughed. "Unless that's her aim. You know, jealousy sex is the best especially when your boyfriend thinks you're into one of his friends." "And how would you know?" San asked, an eyebrow raised. "Your room isn't next to theirs." Your cheeks were flushed bright red. Maybe you should have stuck it out in the shower with Yeosang. You'd be safe from the ridicule and probably on your second orgasm by now.

"Yeosang isn't my boyfriend," you sighed. "Really? But that's the contact name he has saved for you in his phone."

The room suddenly got dead silent. All eyes were shifted to Wooyoung who was staring at your like a deer caught in headlights. You were staring forward, facing the cabinets before slowing turning around. Your heart had dropped to your stomach yet picked up again, both with curiosity and excitement.

Okay, maybe you were really into Yeosang.

"What did you say?" You voice was softer. "You know, I don't really know what I'm talking about. It could have been anyone." "Wooyoung!" Yunho hissed. "Shut the fuck up."

Your heart broke again, but this time shattered into pieces. That could also be true. You and Yeosang hadn't quite put a label on the two of you. It just seemed to be a mutual understanding that you were best friends who occasionally had sex. Friends with benefits. That was it, right?

Technically, he was free to see anyone else. At any point, your little scenario could come to an end when one of you finds a significant other. it was something you had acknowledged, but something you hadn't put much thought into.

You chewed on your bottom lip, as your heart and mind were arguing with each other. You hadn't even noticed your eyes were becoming glossy at the thought that Yeosang might be into someone that wasn't you. San's hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality.

"Y/n? Are you ok?"

It was then you became hyperaware that all eyes were on you. Wooyoung looked apologetically, as they were all concerned for you.

"You know, I forgot I promised to study today with a few friends. I'll catch you guys later."

Before any of them could stop you, you began rushing upstairs to Yeosang's room. Luckily, the shower was still running so you could make your great escape. You slipped on your sweatpants and jacket, gathering all your belongings into your purse.

The shower suddenly stopped. Fuck.

You bolted out of the room just as the door was opening from the bathroom, light and steam escaping into the hallway. You had made it halfway down the staircase when Yeosang seemed to call out to you. But you didn't have the guts to turn back around. Not when you felt like you couldn't breathe.

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"You just ran out of there?!" Hongjoong asked.

You groaned as out loud as you could, not too loud though as you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. After running out, you tried distracting yourself around your apartment but it was no use. This called for an emergency meeting with your best friend, Kim Hongjoong.

Hongjoong was a sophomore when you met him as a freshman. He kindly held your hair when you were throwing up at his house party, and you've been joined at the hip since. Hongjoong was attending grad school much to your benefit. He was still available for 911 Boy Trouble calls.

Tonight, you therapy session was over a pitcher of cocktails at your local college bar. Hongjoong knew all about Yeosang, as he too thought you two were together.

"What else was I supposed to do? Wooyoung blurted that apparently I'm Yeosang's girlfriend without him even saying so? And then brought up the fact that it might've been someone else? They had a front row view to me falling apart." "Remind me to smack some sense into Wooyoung." "I think Yunho already beat you to that one," you laughed softly. "Have you talked to Yeosang since?"

You shook your head, staring down into the pitcher of your drink. Your local college bar was known for these pitchers, putting gummies in them for an extra treat. You were staring down basically into a swimming pool of gummy worms and sweet alcohol.

Yeosang has been trying to call you all day today, probably confused why you got up and ran out. it was very unlike you, especially not to tell him your whereabouts. You were sure his roommates were filling him in though about what went down in the kitchen. The last thing you wanted was to confess why exactly you ran out of the apartment.

Hongjoong didn't say anything at first. And it was starting to scare you. Did he also know something you didn't? You peered up to see Hongjoong almost staring through you. You raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out what was going on. It became clear that he was looking behind you, which naturally made you turn around.

Once again, you felt your heart shatter. You didn't want to become accustomed to this feeling, but it was getting worse each time.

There were Yeosang, San, and Mingi. Wooyoung and Yunho had found themselves at the bar, probably ordering for the group. Normally, you would have been elated to see the group and probably would have gone over. That is, if there wasn't a girl sandwiched between Yeosang and San.

Who was she? Was she with Yeosang or San? Was this the alleged girlfriend Wooyoung actually was referring to?

"Y/n, don't even bother," Hongjoong began.

Quickly turning back around, you downed your drink. Hongjoong's eyes widened as he watched you, still halfway through his first one. He's seen you drink before, but not that quickly.

This evening was definitely taking a turn.

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"Y/n, come on. We're going home," Hongjoong announced.

He was trying his best to sound stern with you, but he was honestly concerned about you. He has never seen this bad before. He's never seen anyone drink 5 pitchers without splitting them with someone. It was as if you were trying to prove to yourself you could live a life without Yeosang in it.

"Nooooo," you whined out. "Just one more, Joongie, please." "Absolutely not. We are going home."

He was trying his best to get you outside, so he could order an Uber for the two of you. Hongjoong had a few drinks, trying to keep up with you, but still sober enough to know getting behind the wheel was the worse thing for the two of you. All he wanted was to get you in your apartment, get some water in your system, and tuck you into bed.

Hongjoong was trying to keep you stable, as you were swaying back and forth. You made numerous attempts to go up to the bar to order for yourself, but the bartender refused. You then had tried getting Hongjoong to buy you another drink, but he had already bought 5 out of your 6 rounds. It was time to call quits.

"Look, I know you're upset, y/n, sweetheart. But this isn't going to help you. You're going to have a massive headache in the morning and be even more upset." "But I want to stay."

People were staring at you. Of course, there were tales of people getting too crazy at the bar. You just never thought you would be one of those people.

"Hongjoong, you heard her." A voice announced from the two of you. "She doesn't want to leave."

Looking over your shoulder, you scoffed to see it was Yeosang standing behind you. His friends including the mystery girl, and everyone at the bar, were watching the three of you. Your hands were resting on Hongjoong's arms, so you wouldn't go slipping onto the floor since your legs were wobbly.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into her?" Hongjoong reasoned.

Getting a look at you, Yeosang then realized that Hongjoong was just trying to do the right thing. Your skin was pale from all the alcohol and lack of food you consumed. Your eyes were glazed over, as you tried your best to maintain eye contact. You did need to go home.

"Sweet girl, he's right. You need to go home." "And why should I?" you slurred. "Just to have sex with you again and have you drop me?" "You know I'd never do that to you," he responded, his voice stern.

Yeosang glanced between you and Hongjoong, nodding. He extended his arms, knowing you couldn't walk on your own but offering for Hongjoong to pass you off to him. Slowly, Hongjoong brought you into Yeosang's arms.

Once he had you in his arms, he made sure one arm was wrapped around you to support you up. He flexed his arms just for the support and to pull you in close to him. His other hand had cupped your cheek, causing you to look up at him slowly. He offered a gentle smile to which made you still feel all warm and tingly despite the amount of times you wanted to cry over him today. Damn him.

"Come on, angel. We are going to go home, ok?"

There were murmurs around the two of you. Surprised to see Yeosang show an ounce of kindness.

"Is the Uber already ordered?" Hongjoong shook his head but did pull out his phone. "No, I was going to wait until we got outside. I thought the cool air might help her, but I can order it for the two of you. Just text me when you get her home?"

Yeosang thanked quickly before helping you out of the bar. He could care less about his reputation of being a lone wolf, someone not to be messed with, dissolved just by his actions. All that mattered was getting you home.

Luckily, the Uber was right around the corner. Perks of going to a university in a major city. Yeosang held you up right still. His hand now tucking strands of his hair behind your ear as he looked at you softly yet with so much concern. God, it felt like your heart was going to combust.

"What's going on, sweetheart? You have been hard to reach all day, and now you don't tell me when you plan on drinking? You know I like to be in the same room just to make sure you're okay." "And interrupt your date? No thanks," you huffed. "Date? You think San is my type?"

Your eyes narrowed in on him, and he realized it was no joking matter. His hand came back to cup your cheek, keeping your eyes locked on his. He desperately wanted to figure out what was troubling your mind.

"Yeosang, I saw you. You were on a date with some girl. Wooyoung also said you had a girlfriend. I thought I was more than a side piece to you!"

Before Yeosang could answer, the Uber pulled up. He rolled down the window, asking if it was for Hongjoong for which Yeosang just played along. He definitely owed your friend for this favor.

The Uber driver unlocked the backdoor, allowing Yeosang to open it. He helped you in, making sure you didn't knock your knees against the back of the passenger seat or fall over. He then leaned over to buckle you in. You were his priority.

"Y/n, I can promise you that she is not my girlfriend," he whispered.

Once again, you scoffed at him. How stupid did he think you were? That just because you had a bit to drink that you'd believe every word he said? Your arms crossed over your chest, turning away from him. Yeosang couldn't help but smirk and snicker at you. He never realized how adorable you could get when you were frustrated especially at him.

Not wanting to keep the driver waiting, Yeosang quickly jogged around to the opposite side of the car. Just where you were looking at. You groaned as his eyes met yours once the door was open and he slid in.

Great.

Yeosang buckled up, so that the driver wouldn't get annoyed with you two. Plus, the quicker you could get home, the sooner you could be put to bed.

"Y/n, I mean it. That is not my girlfriend. She's one of Yunho's friends. He is actually trying to set her up with San." "Then why were you sitting beside her?"

He chuckled as he noticed you were jealous on top of being drunk. Interesting. Yeosang leaned in gently to press a kiss to your cheek, moving his lips to whisper into your ear.

"Just didn't want to make her feel trapped with San. I didn't want to put her in the corner where she was stuck with San. I could easily get up if she wanted to leave," he explained. "Better question though, my dear, is are you jealous?"

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped. You were trying to rack through all the excuses you could come up with, but your drunk mind was failing you. Everyone knew you to be quick on your feet. Not tonight.

"And what if I am?" You asked softly. "I like knowing you are jealous and protective of me," he smirked. "I mean, if anyone is my girlfriend, it would be you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your eyes fluttered once again, just like yesterday. Immediately, you groaned as there was a sharp headache. The brightness in your bedroom didn't help either.

"Good morning, sweet girl."

It was then your eyes shot open. What? You looked over beside you to see Yeosang, shirtless, in your bed. You looked down to see you had gotten changed out of the black tube top and ripped jeans into an oversized shirt. One of Yeosang's that was stored at your place.

"We didn't-" "Hell no. You're extremely attractive, y/n, but you were so drunk. I didn't want to take disadvantage of you, so you yelled at me, got changed into one of my shirts, and fell asleep. I just moved you so you were more comfortable in bed."

You nodded slowly, chewing on your bottom lip. You yelled at him? "Sorry," you muttered.

"No, it's ok. I kind of deserved it."

What was he talking about now? It was getting exhausting that everyone else seemed to have an idea of what was going on besides you.

"Something about how I'm not honest with you. And that if you were actually my girlfriend, you would actually say it then pretending we just fuck like bunnies." "I mean, it's true," you sighed.

Yeosang nodded understandably. He never met to drag out confessing his feelings for you. Truthfully, Yeosang had never been good at expressing his emotions. He liked the fact that you spent so much time together that a lot of people assumed you were together. He just believed you two were on the same page without needing to communicate it.

"Are labels really that important when I am 100% certain about my feelings for you?"

Now you made full eye contact with him. You were laying on your back as he was propped up on his side, turned towards you. Even after seeing you at your messiest, he still looked at you like you were the rarest gem found.

"Some sort of indicator that you like me like that would have been helpful, Yeosang," you whispered. "Does this help?"

Slowly, he moved to hover above you. His hand slid over to hold your hip, squeezing your hipbone affectionately. The other hand moved to cup your face. There was no doubt in his mind. He leaned in slowly to press his lips against you.

He kissed you with everything in him. All the words unspoken were communicated through that kiss. The force of his lips pushed your head back into the pillow slightly, but you were quick to reciprocate. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers running through his hair which caused him to smile into the kiss.

"Call it whatever you want, baby. If you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend, we are. I already know you're all mine, and I don't want to shy away from it anymore," he murmured against your lips.

You pulled back, so you could look into his eyes. This time, he was one nervously biting his lip. Did he say too much? Did he say the wrong thing? Fuck, he's never been this nervous before. "I'm yours and you're all mine," you vowed. "Let's just never let Wooyoung decide our next move before we do." "Deal."

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thedroneranger · 10 months

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Tip of the Cap (Bradley's Version)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Synopsis: Bradley rarely covers up his sun-kissed curls, but the one time he does...

Note: Tip of the Cap, started as a Bradley Bradshaw fic 😱 Struggling to finish it, I swapped the main interest to Jake and BOOM! it came together. However, the challenge of seeing through a Bradley version has been heavy on my mind, so I give you Tip of the Cap (Bradley's Version). Let me know your thoughts!

This one is for my Bradshaw Baddies™, in particular, @roosterforme and @cherrycola27—enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 3.0k

That. Fucking. Hat.

You leaned your palms on the edge of the dresser as you thought about Bradley trotting around in denim cutoffs and his backward baseball cap. Rarely did he cover up his sun-kissed curls, but today, at the annual squadron beach party, Bradley had chosen to don a well-worn UVA baseball cap.

And he looked good.

A smile pulled your lips as you thought about Bradley’s cheeky grin while he backpedaled on the hard-packed sand, watching the play he just called unfold. The little curl trying to escape his cap through the adjustment strap hole had you shaking your head in disbelief.

Lost in thought, you hardly reacted as he sidled up behind you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you. His hands wandered down the beach cover-up you were still wearing, pulling your body against his.

You made eye contact in the mirror that ran the length of your dresser as he sucked on your neck. The moan that escaped you made him smile as he continued to leave hot kisses down to your collarbone. Then he nipped the spot where your shoulder met your neck and you purred. You reached back to rake your fingers through his curls, and instead, your fingers met the taught fabric of his hat. A pout overtook your lips as your nails scratched against his hat.

Bradley ghosted his mustache along your jawline. Planting a kiss on the hinge, he snagged his cap by the bill and placed it on your head. Too big, it fell over your face. As you adjusted it, he kept peppering your shoulder with kisses. By the time you got his cap adjusted, Bradley was done teasing you and strolling to the ensuite bathroom. The muscles in his back subtly shifted and his shorts moved just enough you could see the defined tan line low on his hips. His lower back dimples taunted you.

With a sigh, you turned back to the mirror and shared a frown with your reflection. Your lower lip rolled between your teeth as you thought. Standing to your full height, you placed his hat on the dresser, and then slipped your beach cover-up over your head.

When you got dressed that morning, you had picked a modest swimsuit, knowing the beach party was a work event. However, it didn’t hurt that the suit was also one of Bradley’s favorites.

All day long, you taunted him whenever an opportunity arose. A number of times, you wiggled in his lap, grazed your chest against his, or bumped into his crotch. Each time, you knew he was doing his best to keep his reactions PG-13 in front of his colleagues.

On the ride home, Bradley couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You did your best to seem unfazed as the calloused pad of his thumb stroked the soft skin of your inner thigh. Every so often, his thumb would sneak into the baggy leg hole of your cutoffs and would innocently graze the crotch of your bathing suit. Payback for your earlier behavior.

Goosebumps hatched on your arms as your thoughts wandered back to Bradley quarterbacking the dogfight football game. Listening to him bark out plays and yell at his teammates to get into position. Even thinking about him pushing his Caravans up his nose had you lusting.

And that damn hat. His answer to your warning about making sure he wore enough sunscreen to remain a golden marshmallow instead of morphing into a boiled lobster.

Bradley started the day with his hat forward, the bill shielding his eyes along with his sunglasses. The minute he and his fellow pilots divvied into teams for football, he cocked it backward. A couple drives into the game, he ran for a touchdown. Successful, he scanned the beach and locked eyes with you. Bradley gave you a beaming smile and tipped his cap. Instantly, heat pooled between your thighs.

That heat was pooling again as you thought about his taut muscles, raspy voice, mustache and that fucking UVA baseball cap.

Then it hit you.

One more look toward the bathroom door, the water was still running, you hustled to the closet. Both pieces of your bathing suit fell to the floor as you crossed the room. Once in the closet, you thumbed through until you found what you wanted—his favorite Hawaiian shirt.

You shrugged on the garment and buttoned it as you walked toward the bed. One of the last times you wore this shirt, you and your best friend took some polaroids that you tucked into Bradley’s duffle before he deployed a few days later. Once he found the photos, his only request was for you to model it next time you were together. Bradley nearly fucked you on the hood of the Bronco when you picked him up wearing the shirt tucked and tied so it look like an off-the-rack top.

Just as you were climbing onto the bed, you spied his ball cap on the dresser. Bradley was still in the bathroom, so you grabbed the hat and ran back to the bed. Nestled among the pillows, you arranged yourself with your head resting in the crook of your elbow. With your free hand, you adjusted the hat one more time and waited.

Finally, Bradley emerged. A towel slung low on his hips, he darted toward the closet. However, he did a double take and changed course when he saw you. “What is this?” He stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes locked on you.

You unbuttoned the shirt and had the thinnest sliver of skin showing. Your fingers trailed the valley between your breasts, down your stomach and stopped at your pubic mound. Bradley’s eyes tracked your fingers as they teased your cleft.

“Teasing you until I get what I want,” you said matter of factly, keeping eye contact with him.

Bradley’s lips quirked, trying to restrain a smirk. He unfolded his arms, placed a knee on the bed and climbed so he was hovering over you. He supported himself with a hand on either side of your head and his knee slotted between your thighs as you looked at each other. “Sweetheart, you pretend like you haven’t been teasing me all day,” he said.

“Did I?” You cocked an eyebrow, and then looked between the two of you as you dragged an index finger down his chest, his abs, and then dipped it into the roll of his towel. “Enlighten me.” You met his gaze while you tugged on the terrycloth, causing it to fall open.

His mustache shifted as his smirk bloomed. Bradley kept your gaze as he gently parted his shirt, letting his fingers ghost your skin until you were fully exposed. His head dropped to your chest, kissing and sucking each nipple until they peaked, and then trailed kisses down your stomach.

��The little black number you wore.” His tongue flicked into your belly button. “Every time you came in contact with me at the party.” Bradley pressed a kiss just below your navel. “Every graze. Every nudge. Every time you ‘settled’ into my lap.” He continued to let his lips brush against your skin.

Pleased with your reactions, Bradley sat back on his knees, pushing his towel on the floor and stroking himself until he was completely hard.

You watched him with hooded eyes. A whine escaped you as you let two fingers sink into your folds. Dipping into your wetness, you spread it around your lower lips as you watched Bradley.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He moved to push his thighs underneath yours and rest himself against your core. Gently grabbing your wrist, he pulled your fingers from your heat. You held your breath as you watched him guide your hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the pads before pushing them into his mouth. Yours fell open a little as his tongue swirled around your digits. His cheeks hollowed as he slowly pulled out your fingers with a soft pop.

Your eyes were locked on him, awaiting his next move. Bradley adjusted his grip to hold your palm face up. You watched as his saliva pooled on it. Using his tongue, he spread his spit around your palm and then positioned it around his cock. Loosely, you gripped him and lazily slid your hand up and down.

He sighed and ran his hands along your thighs as you continued to stroke him. As you got into a rhythm, he thrusted into your touch. “And now, you’re wearing my shirt,” he revived the conversation.

“What?!” You feigned surprise, sitting up and forgetting about him to grab at the fabric around you. “This is yours?!” You held a fistful of fabric in his direction. Bradley couldn’t help but continue to smirk as he leaned toward you.

Focused on him, you only remembered his baseball cap was perched on your head when his eyes floated to the bill—the only thing standing between your lips and his. Suddenly, the ball cap was resting backward on his half-dry curls and his body rolled over yours, pushing you flat into the bed. A hand on either side of your head, his thighs pushed yours wider as his lips and mustache glided along your neck and collarbone.

“My shirt. My hat.” Bradley said between kisses. “My pussy.” His teeth sank into your neck at the same time as he seated himself inside you. An rapturous moan left your lips, and your hands flew up to his shoulders, nails digging in. You snarled at each other—teeth sinking deeper, nails digging further.

Your breath hitched each time Bradley snapped his hips. Eyes wide, you rested your heels on the small of his back as he rutted into you. He pulled his head up to watch your expressions—you were getting louder with each thrust. He smiled.

The head of Bradley’s cock ground against the spot that made you see stars, so your eyes rolled back. “My hat, my shirt, my pussy,” he repeated like a chant. He kept hitting that spot, you could feel the warmth building in your belly. “Tonight, I’m gonna wear ‘em all at the same time.” The rasp in his voice alone nearly pushed you over the edge.

He hit that spot a few more times, sang your praises, and then you were coming. He hissed as your nails left raised pink streaks on his shoulders and down his arms. He continued to watch your face as he worked. Your eyes squeezed shut as you rode out your orgasm, clenching around Bradley as he continued to pump into you. A few soft grunts escaped him as he relished the feeling of you fluttering around him.

Your eyes flitted open to meet his hazel ones. He watched you as your hand moved from his shoulder to his jaw, and your thumb came to rest on his lower lip. Bradley pushed his lips against it a few times, matching the pace of his hips, and then his warm tongue met your thumbpad. He sucked on it before he tilted his chin to let your thumb rest there. You then ran it along his jaw as you stared at each other.

“It’s my turn, sweetheart.” Bradley gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you upright as he sat back on his haunches. You settled into his lap, still on his cock, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Bradley’s hands rested on your ass. One hand came back, and an open palm met your skin, sending a crack into the silence. You yelped and your hips canted forward. Bradley smiled as his teeth eclipsed his lower lip. His palm met your backside again, and you, again, yelped and canted forward. He spanked you a couple more times, enjoying your sounds and the forward motion of your hips.

Your ass was red, your skin hot, but you enjoyed the sting. You were so wet, you could feel your arousal running down his cock onto his balls. “You like that?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “You’re so wet, you're getting me all wet, sweetheart.” You mewled as you leaned into him and captured his lips with yours.

Arms still secured around Bradley’s neck, you scooted back and forth to get friction against your clit. Bradley smiled into your kisses. “That’s my girl.” He matched your motions, which caused you to moan between kisses while you moved in tandem.

Before long, your micro movements weren’t enough. Bradley was wound tight and wanted long strokes to get off. His hand crept to your neck, and he gently tugged you away. You were hard pressed to break your kiss, and you demanded that Bradley stay buried inside you as you changed positions.

Before you were flat on your back, Bradley helped you take off his shirt, leaving you completely exposed. Meanwhile, he slipped the garment on and hovered over you. His gaze was smoldering, pupils blown, and his hips picking up speed with each thrust.

“You feel so fucking good,” he cooed. Bradley’s head lolled back for a moment. You studied his chin, neck and chest while he was blissed out. Unable to control yourself, your hand came to his lower stomach. Bradley groaned and tilted his head forward so he could see you. He watched as you ran your knuckles his happy trail. Then, your hand slipped lower until your index and middle fingers were in a V-shape around the base of his cock.

Bradley continued to thrust as you applied light pressure. Involuntarily, he groaned and you smiled. You continued to coax him toward orgasm with your fingers and pussy.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Bradley’s version of saying he was close. One hand planted beside your head, the other now on your neck. His fingers applied pressure to the sides. You wrapped your free hand around his wrist. Bradley watched you to make sure you were ok with the amount of pressure.

Bradley’s current pace had you on the path toward another orgasm. Your fingers shifted from Bradley’s cock to your clit to help make that a reality. Bradley praised you for taking care of yourself and shifted so his thighs pushed your legs wider. The head of his cock kissed your cervix with each thrust.

The moans it induced from you was enough for him to shoot you full of cum. Bradley managed to keep pace as he came so you remained on track toward your second orgasm. As you pulsed around him, he slowed to enjoy the feeling.

Your mixed cum was oozing out as he continued to thrust and you continued to milk him. Some of it smeared onto your fingers as you continued to massage your clit. You brought them to your lips to lick clean. Bradley made the most desperate sound that pleasantly surprised both of you as he watched your fingers near your mouth.

Much to his pleasure, you brought your fingers to his mouth instead. He happily accepted them. First, licking from the base to pads and then letting you slip them past his lips. He swirled his tongue around them, bobbing his head to match his languid pace. Once satisfied, he hollowed his cheeks as you pulled them out. “Mhmm.” His tongue swiped his bottom lip, hoping to catch any remnants. You laughed and leaned up to press your lips to his.

Bradley’s lips ventured to your cheek and down your neck until he was kissing your chest. You whined as he slipped out of you. You watched as he kissed down your stomach and stopped at your pubic mound. His big hands gripped your hips and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor, looping one of your legs over his shoulder and pushing the other as wide as the hinge of your hip allowed.

He kept eye contact with you as he kissed each of your pussy lips. And then, with a broad tongue he slowly lapped up your mess. You watched him, letting your fingers tour over rivets and seams of his hat.

Your thighs and your outer lips clean, you watched as he rested his hands on either side of your heat and gently spread your pussy. The cool air hitting you had you holding gasping. Bradley watched your face as he softly blew on your clit. You arched your back a little bit off the bed conflicted by the sensation.

Bradley started with a single stripe from your hole up to the hood of your clit. Then he dipped his tongue between your clit and your lip, repeating the maneuver on the other side. He was tender with his clean up, caressing you enough to feel good but not overstimulate.

When he stopped spreading you, he placed a final kiss on the cleft of your pussy. Then Bradley slipped out from under your legs and helped you sit up on the bed.

He stood between your knees. It was his turn to shower you in soft touches as you peppered kisses on his stomach and licked away your cum. You couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at you. His wild curl still trying to escape the adjustment strap on his hat and the open edges of his shirt fluttering slightly had you smiling. Finished with cleanup, you closed your eyes and let your chin rest against him.

“You interested in another round, sweetheart?” He asked softly. He stroked your hair and waited for your answer.

“What are you going to wear?” You teased.

A smile graced his face as he stepped away from you, heading toward the closet. “Oh, I have an idea.”

Palms supporting you, leaned back on the bed and watched as he disappeared into your walk-in. About a minute later he emerged, wearing one of his flight suits. He left the front unzipped so you had a view of his tanned chest and abs. The apex of his zipper drew your attention to where he wanted it most.

Your gaze floated back to his face. Of course, he topped off the look with his damn UVA baseball cap—wild curl included.

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pep-rambles · 2 months

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Lucifer is a Swiftie headcanons because I kin this man so much I am projecting my other hyperfixations on him

But also I mean c'mon,

Look at him

yes there is RadioApple in this

-It probably started from Charlie. When she was in high school (post emo phase obviously) she may have enjoyed Taylor Swift (maybe Fearless got her through her senior year because I can't stop projecting) Lucifer started listening to try and have something to bond with his daughter about. But about the time Charlie kind of lost interest is about the time Lucifer doubled down on his obsession.

-He has been to basically almost every Eras concert, usually in really good seats because many a swiftie has offered to sell their soul for tickets. He said keep your soul just let him tag along.

-He is definitely an Evermore stan mostly because of relating too hard to the divorce narrative of it.

-Speaking of, Charlie has threatened to lock him out of his Spotify after catching him on the floor crying to “Champaign Problems” on repeat too many times. She never would but most definitely tried to ban him from listening to it for a month.

-She then caught him crying to “You’re Loosing Me”

-Angel Dust is most definitely Beyhive (killer bee probably) and though initially joking that they are rivals the two men bond over their love for the two queens of pop, recommending songs and videos to each other.

-Angel is a Reputation Stan though

-After one of Lucifer’s many tiffs with Alastor, Charlie is expressing her frustration asking her dad why can’t they just get along and Lucifer explains that he doesn’t trust Alastor because “I think his ever-present grin is a little troubling” and is a little upset when she doesn’t get it

-One day, Luci is sitting in the Lobby doing his work while listening to Taylor on shuffle. He’s casually minding his own business jamming out to one of her poppier love songs and Alastor wanders in commenting on the “Obnoxious trite little diddy” Lucifer doesn't even hesitate to take the bait

L: HOW DARE YOU! SHE IS A TALENTED GODDESS!! A DOWNRIGHT MUSICAL CHAMELEON! You are such a snob Alastor! Good music didn't stop getting made after your tiny little lifetime.

A: I never said it did but it's certainly not this frivolous noise!

L: Oh, you uninformed uncultured cur! She is a fucking poet!

He then proceeds to play examples for Alastor of her most creative and heart wrenching lyrics (he absolutely makes Al sit through all 10 minutes and 13 seconds of ATW)

After all that though Lucifer will never get Alastor to admit that he finds T.S. musically talented (or that Lucifer did in fact catch Al tapping his foot a couple times)

-Alastor does come to Lucifer, after a bit of research, admitting that though he does not find her music enjoyable, he respects her business cunning. Luci figures that's good enough. For now.

-because I bet my non-existent Eras tour tickets that Lilith was a hater. I’ll leave it at that.

-OP works at Barnes & Noble and let me tell you there are about 80 different Taylor Swift magazines that even my swiftie ass thinks is excessive but Lucifer has every single one

-including the Taylor Swift paper dolls magazine (yes this is a real thing). He probably gets a few because he convinces Charlie to use them as a team building activity.

-He has at least 3 copies of each of the covers for the 2023 TIME Person of the Year magazine.

-Also all cardigans. On a casual day he definitely lounges in them and has a set rotation of when to wear each one (and I am totally not gonna draw that nope)

-Well, it seems Lucifer is no longer crying to the depressing break-up songs on repeat but now he seems to be angrily listening to “Gorgeous” on repeat. Charlie asks him about it and he goes full denial mode “No no Charlie I'm not thinking of anyone specific, I've just been really into this song lately.” Everyone else in the hotel, besides Alastor, has already figured out what's going on

Alastor: If I have to hear that obnoxious noise one more time I will reduce that tiny maniac’s room to rubble as well as the abode of whatever sad sack is making him play it.

Angel: *knowing smirk* I'm gonna hold ya to that one, Antlers.

-Al may very well hear it one more time if Lucifer uses it as his confession song (I don't fully commit to this headcanon, I just think it's funny)

-Anyway boy’s probably in his Reputation stan Era b/c LWYMMD is like his long overdue big F-YOU to Heaven song

btw this is NOT gonna end at these headcanons I am running with this idea like scissors.

@nunalastor

@julsiemagne

@nose-nippin-fun (I know you're not a swiftie but we talked about this so idk if you care I can un-tag you if you want)

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hotchnerxo · 2 months

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Make a difference

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader Words: 1.8k Summary: You're feeling insignificant and overwhelmed. Aaron's making sure you never forget your worth. Warnings: Anxiety and some intrusive thoughts. Nothing major, a bit of hurt/comfort and fluff A/N: This can be read separately, but also if you're familiar with my 'The chances you take' fic, this is set between chapters 13 and 14. This is dedicated to everyone who’s been having a hard time lately and days are a struggle. I am very proud of you <3

Join my taglist here

~~~

You watch steam rise from the coffee you’re pouring into your thermos. It’s probably your sixth cup of today, but you fill it anyway. Once satisfied with the amount, you screw back on the purple lid and grasp the mug in your hands. Its warmth is grounding and you admire the watercolor lavenders on its surface. But despite all that, your mind has wandered far off.

You’ve been a part of the team for quite some time now and you couldn’t be happier with the way they have welcomed you into their family. You’re thankful for every single one of them and you wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else.

But still, this moment feels off. It’s overwhelming and tiring; it’s confusing. All of the sudden there’s a harsh voice in your head screaming that you don’t belong. That no one would notice if you just walked away from this. You’re not sure whose voice it is in your mind, but it is eerie. Thoughts like this have been with you for a long time, but whenever things get overwhelming, your self doubt gets stronger.

You’ve come to lean on the kitchenette counter, nursing your warm coffee between your hands. The bullpen is loud, but blurring in your mind. There’s no conversation to follow, just a lot of sounds coming from all around; chatter, typing, rustling paper and so on. But the racing of your thoughts keeps you too busy from paying attention to things around you. You couldn’t even hear the footsteps coming closer to you.

“Left some for me?” he asks, but gets no reaction from you. Few seconds later you hear your name being called which distracts your mental spiral.

“Huh?” you hear yourself asking instinctively. How long had Hotchner been standing next to you? You have no idea, but when you turn to look at him, he already has concern written all over him. Apparently he’s been there long enough.

“Left any coffee for me?” he repeats his question, giving you another moment to get your thoughts together. Your attention moves towards the pot of coffee, just to see there’s only a drop left in it.

The thoughts of self blame start to raise their head again. There is sort of an unspoken rule in the office: whoever takes the last cup of coffee, needs to make a new one. That way there’s always something for the next person coming in. You’ve just now broken that rule and the guilt of it is strong. Way stronger than what it should be. It’s such a minor thing, but it feels more like you’ve majorly screwed up and should be fired on the spot.

“Sorry! I’ll make a new pot, it will be just a few minutes” you apologize quickly, interrupting your brain from catastrophizing the situation.

“It’s alright. I think I’ll be fine” he reassures with a gentle smile. Your tone must have been more panicky than you thought as he does his best to diffuse your anxiety so quickly. “Here, let me help you” he says softly and goes to grab a filter and the coffee grounds before you get to them. You thank him quietly as you fill the machine with more water. You watch him measure the grounds and within a few seconds, your mistake no longer exists.

Your cup is back in your hands and your eyes follow the man as he puts the ingredients back into the cabinets. You lean to the table, leaving the rest of the office behind you. At some point during the day, he’s taken his suit off and rolled the sleeves of his light blue shirt. The stripes on the shirt are barely noticeable from afar, but you enjoy the small detail.

“You’ve seemed really distracted today” his warm voice brings you back to the present moment. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks before you get to reassure him that you’re fine. He looks sincere and with your time at the bureau, you’ve learned how easy he is to talk to. And ever after the christmas party at Rossi’s a week ago, you’ve craved for his company.

“It’s nothing” you sigh and you both know that isn’t true. But he doesn’t argue with you. Instead, he falls quiet and waits. He waits for you to find the right words to sum up the storm in your mind. “At times I just feel~” you pause, turning your eyes down to your hands. “~I don't know, insignificant”. You can feel his eyes burning on your skin, but you’re too afraid to look back up.

He wants to say something, but he closes his mouth before any words come out. He can tell there’s still something else that you haven’t been able to word yet.

“I just don’t feel like I make a difference” you continue. Few seconds go by until you gain courage to look back up towards him. It was his turn to fall deep into his thoughts, trying to find something meaningful to say. You see him fidget with his left hand fingers, which you’ve learned he does when he’s nervous or carefully thinking something through.

“You know” he begins after a moment of consideration. His gaze lifts up again and only the way he looks at you makes all of the self doubt fade away. He doesn’t need words, his presence alone is all you need to calm down, but he continues nevertheless “when Ella was over for a sleepover with Jack, she asked me what my favorite color is”. You’re not really sure how that connects to the subject at hand, but you’re curious. “but before I could answer, she really wanted to guess. After some time of thinking, her whole face lit up and says purple. She was so sure about it and there was no way I could deny that”.

“Why are you telling me this?” you ask and take a sip of your coffee for the first time

There it is again; the small smile that you’re sure lights up your whole day. You love the way his whole stoic exterior melts away: his brow softens and a warm sparkle appears in his eyes again. And when he smiles, you can see dimples forming on his cheeks.

“I’m telling you this because after that, everytime I see the color purple anywhere, it makes me smile. And it makes me think of how proud and happy she was” his tone is so soft and sweet it almost makes you tear up after all the anxiety “What I’m trying to say is, that no one is insignificant. Everyone makes a difference, even with such little things that we ourselves aren’t even able to tell”.

Both of you fall quiet for a moment. It’s as if your eyes are so drawn to each other and you both forget everything else around you.

His voice lowers down to a whisper as he continues “I could list a million things you’ve done that have permanently changed my life. How a joke you told three weeks ago still makes me smile whenever I think about it. Or the way you sing your favorite songs when they play in the radio while driving you home” the affection is so thick in his voice, it’s almost hard to believe. The way he speaks makes something click inside of you, like pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place when just moments ago it all seemed a mess and meaningless. “and trust me, the meaning you have in so many people’s lives goes way beyond words. Think of the way Ella looks in the mirror every morning, feeling like a princess because her mother complimented her. Or your dad being grateful you brought in the mail on your way to your parents’, just so he doesn’t have to walk all the way to the end of the driveway when his knee is acting up again. Or a victim in a case, who you helped calm down from a panic attack”.

He lists a few more things and you feel heat rising to your cheeks. You didn’t realize that the people around you actually notice these things. You didn’t think they’d hold such importance to anyone.

“What I’m trying to say” he adds almost shyly after having rambled on for way longer he intended to “your impact is everywhere. Just like fingerprints. Your importance can’t be wiped away clean from all the kindness you’ve shared in your life”.

It’s not often you’re left speechless. But you no longer can find words to match your gratitude. If you were anywhere but the office, you’d hug him. As you’re about to open your mouth to thank him, you hear steps coming closer to the kitchenette breaking the moment between the two of you.

“Does the line start here?” Rossi asks from beside you “For the coffee?” he clarifies as both of you give him puzzled looks. Your conversation had made both of you forget where you are and for how long. Coffee no longer was a priority, and you hadn’t even noticed it being done.

Aaron clears his throat and goes to grab a new dark blue mug from the shelf “Yeah, one moment” he says and fills his own cup before offering to fill up the one in Rossi’s hand.

“Did the M.E. reports from the Seattle case come in yet?” Rossi asks, forcing the unit chief to turn his attention back to his duties.

“Yes, it’s on my desk. I’ll be right there” Hotchner’s tone is back to his normal at-the-office voice and you can tell he’s forced to get his focus back on his to-do list, no matter how he wants to stay in the moment with you as long as possible. David nods and leads the way. Aaron follows his friend a few steps behind but stops once he’s by your side.

His hand raises to your arm, landing on it softly just for a few seconds. His thumb rubs soft circles on the fabric of your sleeve and his eyes fall to find yours. There are a million things he wants to tell you, an apology for the interruption being the strongest one. He wants to tell you that his door is always open for you and he’s only ever a text or a phone call away. He wishes to tell you just how much you mean to him and to everyone else around you.

But instead of saying a word, he smiles at you softly. As he turns to leave and continue his workday, his hand lingers on your arm for as long as he’s able to. He goes to follow Rossi to his office but you swear you can still feel his touch on your skin and it makes every last bit of your anxiety melt away.

You wish he knows just how much he’s changed your life for the better, just by being himself.

@ssahotchsbitch @mayasreadingnook @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @ssamorganhotchner @kajjaka @reidsbookmark @thenewnormalforensicator @wheelsupkels @thedancingnerdmermaid @agirlinherhead @tonystarkscumslut @itsmytimetoodream @marvel-marauders @mintphoenix @whoreslovehotch @mrslizzyolsen @louderfortheback @newlydevouthotchgirl @pandorasdreamings @anlin2058 @alexxavicry

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotchnerxo fic

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eluxcastar · 5 months

Note

Number 13 and 14 with Arlecchino

Arlecchino being comforted by her s/o

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: arlecchino comfort drabbles yesyes

୨୧﹑genre :: sort of fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, possibly ooc because it was written pre fontaine quest, not very proofread, arlecchino is implied to have issues with self-image/perception

୨୧﹑words :: 2.2k

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met." "I'm going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly."

IT'S HERE you guys always spoil me 13 is my favourite prompt and you are the first of two to request it. completely unrelated but this is so familiar to what Kae said a few days ago (months now omg 😭) when we were talking about One of Repetition and it fits those two so well 😭❤️

to the anon who requested furina it'll take me a minute to figure out how to write her because I haven't played the archon quest but I'll watch some cutscenes and do my best for you

I'll also be using this because I got it in the middle of writing this and thought it fit the idea I had going super well 🙏 that makes three Arlecchino requests with prompt 13 😭 also second anon you're fine dw you guys are free to do with your requests with these prompts as you like, mix them together, add extra descriptions and rambles it makes it more fun 👍 thank you btw 😭❤ feel free to give yourself a name for future requests if you want ❤️ I love having new anons

prompt list

It is not often that Arlecchino shows her doubt, maintaining that half-pleasant façade to hide it all. If all people see is a ruthless woman with no regard for loyalty, then the details don't matter. There's no need to question, no need to dwell. She is one thing and nothing more, and she much prefers for nobody to notice the hesitancy in her drastic decisions, the thin-veiled regret as she watches the children she witnessed grow up go on to become valiant children of the Tsaritsa.

If there is anything more, it is disregarded as her unpredictability. She is a roach in the eyes of others, and perhaps she's ok with that…mostly.

To hear someone say "I love you" is strange to her, though it shouldn't be by now.

It shouldn't be unusual to wake up tangled in the sheets with you by her side or the struggle it ends up being to leave that mess as you try to convince her to spend five more minutes with you. It shouldn't be odd to discover that you've gone ahead and made her tea in anticipation of the time she will wake up or to have you remind her every morning that you hung her coat up to dry after she dumped it over the back of a chair the night before or to see you wandering around going about your own job.

But those events all feel surreal to her, even though she has watched you walk your patrol path a thousand times now, and she has seen you slack off where she sits by the window of Zapolyarny when you think nobody is looking.

You are very real, there's no doubt about that.

The things you do never click with her, however.

Perhaps you are real, but she made up these fantasies after watching you loiter by that one spot in the garden a little too long.

Yet every evening, you meet her in her office after you're officially let off for the day, and you usually bring snacks. You are most definitely there, then, as she watches you struggle to get through the door without damaging whatever you found for her to try, usually only small, a pastry you managed to get that you absolutely mustn't knock from your hands.

"I tried to get something that wouldn't make a big mess all over your stuff," you usually say, sometimes hacking on a 6guilty little "But~ these just looked so good…" to try and excuse you for bringing something that would cover her desk in crumbs.

Arlecchino doesn't mind because you went to the trouble of getting her something.

She got you a special chair to pull up and everything, and anyone else who uses it can deal with the death glare they get or find a different one.

But perhaps she made that up too, conjuring the image of someone fumbling their way through her office door to greet her with a smile, sometimes with jam on your mouth from taste-testing the gifts that she'll point out to you that you hurriedly wipe on your sleeve and pretend it was never there.

Maybe she put that chair there for nothing, and it never really moves, and each time she thinks this, she is sure this fantasy will all disappear.

However, every evening, without fail, as the sun begins to set out the window and the room is dyed an orange hue, the door opens, and there you are again. Delusions can't possibly be that persistent, and you would've scowled at her when she approached you in the hallways if you weren't aware of this relationship.

So it must be real, which she's well and truly aware of. There must be a person out there who sees what she cannot, someone who, by some miracle, manages to see past the things that block out all of the good. How can a person see anything but someone unworthy of their love?

What else is there to see?

The idea of a person who deserves to be loved beneath bloodshed has become unthinkable.

For a person who has been exposed to Arlecchino's worst sins, who has seen everything, and whose worst offence in life is a little laziness on the job, how is it possible to look at her and smile?

Arlecchino often wonders as she watches you. She how you go through your routine of placing your things down, whether on the desk or beside them, then all too happily mosey on off to get your chair and drag it over to sit across from her. She doesn't know why it's this particular day that she asks. Perhaps the fact it was weighing on her mind after a recent mission had her list of redeeming qualities shrinking further and further. It is in her job description, and there are plenty of worse people in this world.

But do you deserve to be stuck with one of them?

"Did you ever feel pressured into accepting my feelings for you?" Arlecchino asks the question so suddenly as you're halfway through walking back with your chair that she sees the exact point you register what she said, freezing in place from the shock. "Whether through status or power," she adds.

You blink a few times before all the motion in your world resumes to greet you with the image of her staring you down from the other side of her desk, patient and waiting for your response. "Sorry?" You let the chair go to return alone to her, standing in the place where you always put it. "I don't, uh…follow? I'm sorry, I just— I'm not sure what you mean?"

She hesitates, momentarily glancing down before her age returns to you and your uncharacteristic expression riddled with worry. She must've made you upset again.

"You want to be in this relationship? With me, that is…" Arlecchino struggles to think of the words, saying them as soon as they appear in her mind. "Even though you know the kind of person I am, you still want that?"

She studies your face as carefully as she can, watching the way you react as you absorb everything you just heard and assumedly try to put a response together in your head. Arlecchino has noticed before how you take longer to speak than her sometimes, but it tends to make everything you say more thought out, though you may end it like you're unsure.

"Well, I mean…if I didn't, wouldn't I just—" you pause for only a second— "break up with you?" There's silence after you finish. She doesn't say or do anything. To Arlecchino, that strangely almost makes sense, but you must be far too bold to admit that to a Harbinger. "It's not that I want to! I'm a little--…well, I think I'm just a little bit confused where that's coming from."

"I was thinking about it." You frown when she admits that. "Some of the things you have seen of me are…" Is there even a word to encompass that? "unbecoming of a lover."

Is that the right way to phrase it?

Again, you pause, and the telltale signs of consideration cross your face. An intense focus that barely lasts, and Arlecchino waits through it all to allow you your chance to answer, intent on allowing you that much. A few seconds more, and your features relax, looking back at Arlecchino with a tender gaze. "There's not really one 'right way', is there?" Your question, though rhetorical, strikes a chord with the many impulsive responses that flood her mind, all of which she keeps to herself. "You just kind of...try your best. Things might work out, or maybe they don't— the point is that you mean well and put in the work."

"That's not enough," she argues, "you deserve better."

"I deserve what I want." Your rebuttal makes sense in theory, but what do you want? She struggles to make sense of that part, the answer muddled by all of her thoughts and lost in her doubts.

You could ask anything of her, and she would do it. Any material possession, every feeling, more love than you know what to do with in any form you desire—physical, emotional, intimate—and yet you never do. You accept her awkward hugs, that it takes her time to relax when you lay your head on her chest, the fact she sometimes snores, that her clothes may very well be covered in bloodstains when she comes home depending on uncontrollable circumstances.

You never ask for the things she has plenty of power to give you in return for those flaws.

She shakes her head, "but surely you want more."

"I don't."

"There is a lot wrong that you deserve compensation for."

Arlecchino clenches the pen in her hand tightly, feeling the slight distress of pressure around it. She can't articulate what, not in the way she understands it; flaws is too broad of a term to use. You would instantly know and understand what she meant in a perfect world, but the world is not so generous.

"Like what?" you question. You feel that it’s obvious that nothing Arlecchino will struggle to say will shake you. She opens her mouth, prepared to refute it, headstrong and frankly stubborn as ever, but nothing comes out.

There is silence for a moment, and no one rebuts what you say. Nobody can. The only other person in the room fights with herself to yield and give in to your unwavering loyalty. In your mind, she is everything you want. There is nothing else you can ask of her than to simply accept that you wish to remain with her if only she will allow you to through her own emotional turmoil.

"Are you listening to what I’m saying?" you ask, frown creeping back onto your face as it tugs the corner of your lips down, seemingly against your will, "I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."

Another chord is struck, her heart beating so loud it thrums in her ears like suddenly becoming aware it’s been threatening to beat out of her chest the entire conversation. She breathes, shaky and caught up in her own surprise. Somehow, she didn’t expect you to be so sweet in your words or throw her off guard so abruptly. She finds it hard to believe them. Arlecchino’s worries haven’t disappeared, only dwindled. It helps, if not completely. There is a reprieve in listening to you.

You have seen the worst of her, every crease she hasn’t ironed out, her sometimes rotten personality, her stained clothes, the weapons she cleans in your home. You have seen her walk to greet you covered in blood and gore from a savage fight, kneel before you and hold your hand with the same hands she uses to kill vagrants and petty criminals, kiss your skin with those lips that spill the vilest of curses against her enemies.

Before she realises what she’s saying, she blurts out a question, "Do you really believe that?"

It is quiet, reminiscent of how gently you looked at her earlier as her voice barely breaks a whisper, and she can’t bring herself to break eye contact with you once she finds the courage to make it.

"I do."

You smile at her, hoping she will smile back. A faint smile graces Arlecchino’s lips, ever the handsome picture. Her sincerity is comforting after such a scare. You still worry, and perhaps you will never stop with the way her mind likes to trick her. How long had she thought you secretly looked at her with disgust this time? You fear you won’t have an answer again, though you desperately wish for one. As much as you notice her awkwardness, dismissing some of it and observing other parts with more scrutiny, it is hard to make her talk to you at times.

"Thank you." It is all Arlecchino can think to say in response as she forgets what else she was going to challenge you on. It will return eventually, and she will face it again, but for now, it settles. Arlecchino can reasonably bury her doubt for a time.

"Can we keep talking?" you ask.

"About anything," she confirms with a nod.

You turn away, walking across the room in pursuit of retrieving your chair from its designated spot by the wall. You pull it along, dragging it over the floor, and set it down across from her on the other side of the desk you’ve been talking across. Your seat welcomes you as it always does as you settle into place, now comfortably at eye level with her.

"In that case," you begin, taking the pen she holds and wriggling it from her hands. She relinquishes it without much of a fight, allowing you to place it off to the side out of the way. "I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly."

"Anything for you, my love."

#♡ — anon visit.#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — fluff.#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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marypaol · 9 days

Text

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

Harry James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Slowly throughout your years of Hogwarts, and if the other person looks at the same time, you see your soulmate’s image in the mirror.

Warnings: Mention of Dementors? And kissing- that’s all??

Note: Wrote a soulmate one for Draco, now it’s Harry’s turn!

Masterlist

Request Requirements

[Story ends at Fifth Year]

First Year (Age: 11)

“This is stupid, Ron.” Harry found himself muttering, staring at his untidy hair in the mirror. His reflection seemed to be mocking the boy, each second making him want to look away.

“No it’s not.” Ron insisted, staring at his bright red hair, freckles and all. He looked just like the rest of his family: flame-like hair and freckles scattering his cheeks.

“It kinda is, especially since we’ve been looking at ourselves for 10 minutes. I think I look okay, but I swear I saw my nose change form and I don’t know what it actually looks like anymore.”

Ron finally tore his eyes off the mirror, turning towards Harry. He titled his head, scanning his friend for a split second. He shrugged. “Looks like your nose to me. Not that I stare at your nose when I talk to you.”

“You’re doing it right now.” Harry replied instantly, unable to stop the grin pulling at his lips.

“Shove off, will ya? You asked.” Ron answered. Harry laughed.

Ron ended the daily mirror session with crossed arms, a grumble forming on his mouth as he sat on his bed in a dramatic way. “Never gonna see her.” He muttered.

Harry shrugged, and, with one last hopeful look in the mirror, joined Ron on his bed, legs dangling off it.

“Sure it’s fine- we just have to look at the same time.”

Ron scoffed at Harry’s attempt at assurance. “Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen. You’d really think girls stare at themselves in the mirror all day.”

Harry once again shrugged, not really educated on the behavior of girls. When he saw a pretty one he’d stare for a while and go pink in the ears, but look away before she could notice.

“I couldn’t know, Ron.”

“Whatever. Come on, we have to go see what Hermonie’s up to. Reading a a ten million paged book I ‘spect.”

Second Year (Age: 12)

“I think I look about normal now, how about you?”

Harry was looking at himself in the mirror, watching the last of the transformation from one of Draco’s disgusting friends back to his normal self. Ron’s ear was still a little big but they both watched it slowly shrink.

“‘Bout back to normal. That was weird.”

Harry couldn’t help but agree, but he also couldn’t help but look at his normal face for a bit longer than usual, trying to catch a glance at her.

“Lookin’ for her again?” Ron figured, raising a brow as he looked at Harry from the corner of his eye, now looking at the mirror too.

“Yeah… but it’s no use.” Harry decided, looking away. Ron went up to the stall Hermione was in, and let’s just say what was happening definitely distracted Harry from the mirror.

Third Year (Age: 13)

“We’ll bring you lots of sweets, Harry.” Hermione promised, looking pitiful at the boy while her and Ron got ready to head to Hogsmeade. Ron nodded, eager to leave but still look like he felt bad.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Loads.”

Harry bid them goodbye and started to wander around the castle, the Marurders map in his hands as he looked at where everyone was. The dots moved frantically as people made their way about, each labeled with a name so Harry could see everyone on the grounds.

He went to his dormitory first, setting the map down temporarily before glancing at the mirror recklessly. He knew she was probably at Hogsmeade right now, giggling with friends as they shopped for candy after candy so looking at a mirror was the last thing on her mind. He wondered what she looked like, and the more he stared at himself instead of her the more he wanted to know.

“Come on,” he muttered, watching his lips move in the reflection. “Just look in the mirror.”

Oh but she was. Just never at the same time as he.

Forth Year (Age: 14)

“Harry Potter.”

Harry wanted the ground to swallow him. Every pair of eyes were on him, his cheeks turning a soft red. Hermione shoving him brought him out of his trance, encouraging him to go up to Dumbledore.

He stood up in wobbly legs, making his way to the Headmaster. The man handed him the piece of paper that had “Harry Potter” written on it, and gestured Harry to go to the back room with the rest of the champions.

The boy did so, meeting Cedric, Fleur, and Krum’s confused gazes, their eyebrows furrowed.

He stood there hopelessly, watching as people around him decided what they should do.

The dread news of having to compete was high, so high that he didn’t notice the mirror on the other side of the room. If he looked into it, for just a glance of time, he would’ve noticed sparkling eyes and bit lips, longing for a glimpse of him.

“Good luck, Harry.”

Harry turned around, the sweat on his hand almost causing his wand to slip out onto the ground. The girl stood in front of him, twiddling with her fingers but she still had a kind hopeful smile on her lips.

Harry couldn’t help but smile back even though he didn’t know her.

“I hope you do well.” She added. Harry’s smile stayed the same, constant and genuine. “Thanks,” he replied. “I’m gonna need all the luck I can get.”

She smiled a little wider, making straight eye contact for the first time in their conversation, since she was too nervous before so she avoided his gaze. His bright green eyes connected with her soft ones, and Harry didn’t fail to notice the gentle flush that spread on her cheeks. What he did fail to notice was that her eyes would be vaguely familiar if he just looked in the mirror .

Fifth Year (Age: 15)

“Okay, everybody. Today we’re gonna learn about the Patronus Charm, which fights off a Dementor. In order to cast it, you have to think of a happy memory. Very powerful and strong. Think of the happiest moment in your life, and keep it clear in your mind.” Harry instructed, watching everyone wave their wands, happy moments in time flooding their thoughts.

The girl, far in the back, thought back to when she met Harry’s eyes, longing for the reflection of herself in them, hoping they’d be meant to be. It was too bright outside that day to tell, but the moment burned in her mind every day since then, the beauty green in his eyes taking the time to look at her, the moment she felt special.

The picture of him alone and his bright eyes was pictured in her mind, just like every day, but clearer for this moment.

“Expecto Patronum!”

A mighty clever fox whispered out of her wand tip, legs taking a stretch as it ran around her, causing a soft giggle to escape her lips.

“Fantastic!”

His voice rang in her ears, and she looked at him, the blurry whip of the silver fox being ignored as she scanned the room for the acknowledgement. Her shoulders sank a little when she found out he was talking to Neville instead, eyes leaving him and landing back on her fox who was still running in circles around her.

“Thanks for helping me clean.” Hermione told Harry, some things around them knocked over after the practice of the Accio Charm, a charm casted to bring a desired object to the wand owners hand.

“Of course.” Harry responded, watching Hermione leave as she soon said she had to use the restroom.

“Have you seen her yet?”

Harry flinched at the second voice, turning to see the girl who wished him luck before the First Task, staring hopelessly in the mirror.

He walked over to her, watching her eyes scan the mirror, noticing how she was biting her lip. Her eyes were sparkling despite the emotion that seemed to be crowding them.

“Nope; been trying since First Year, in fact.”

Harry looked into the mirror at the exact moment she turned away and looked at him in disbelief. “Really? First Year? I thought I was the only one.”

Harry chuckled, glancing at her face.“Well I didn’t know about it until my friend Ron told me.”

It was then it was silent, Harry not seeming to be able to look away from her eyes. She then smiled tightly, looking back at the mirror. He followed suit, looking at the same reflective surface as her, behind her shoulder.

He then saw no one but himself despite her looking too, then her face clear next to him, every detail but she seemed clear as a ghost, present but not. The boy blinked, making sure he wasn’t just seeing things, and he wasn’t. She was there, and he was there too in her vision because they both gasped at the same time, soft and surprising.

She looked at him, and he at her.

“All this time…”

“We’ve already knew each other…” he finished.

“That’s crazy.” She muttered, this time looking at him instead of the mirror.

He cleared his throat but didn’t make an effort to look away nonetheless. “So, did you accomplish the Accio Charm?”

“Yeah…” she muttered, more like whispered, her eyes moving down to his lips but looked back up to his eyes, her own swirling with something but Harry couldn’t tell what it was.

“Good…” Harry whispered back, taking a step closer.

“Did the Patronus Charm as well.” She added for conversation, since in this moment she couldn’t stand the silence. Harry nodded in acknowledgment, a sign to let her know he heard her, but they both knew he was half listening, his gaze on her mouth as well.

“Why’d you ask?” She found herself asking, not having the courage to lean in first, though if she could make any wish in the world at the moment it would be for the courage to do so.

“Just wondering…..” Harry muttered, breaking the space between them, soft lips touching hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of his lips and face against hers surrounding her being and thoughts. His lips were smooth and soft, like pillows that she was laying on.

He broke apart first though, but only to turn his head to get a better angle, leaning in again as they found a soft gentle rhythm.

She dropped her wand, the clatter startling neither of them as her hands went up to his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, fingers diving into his hair, a soft sigh escaping him at the sensation.

They came apart for air, their lips still brushing against each other as they longed for the long lasting contact. She licked her lips, her tongue accidentally touching his briefly, another soft sigh coming out of his mouth.

This moment didn’t feel real to her, someone so special didn’t deserve her, but he was there and that was his choice; she could hardly believe it.

“We should go to the Common Room…”

Harry muttered against her mouth.

“Yeah… we should…” she replied, but neither of them made an effort to move away from each other, in fact their lips connected again, moving in softer movements than before, but the strong feeling in her chest was all the same.

#imagines #stories #x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter x you #harry james x reader #harry x reader #harry p x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry imagine #harry pottah #harry james potter #harry potter #harry #harry x you #harry x y/n #harry potter x y/n

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alwaysonf1 · 6 months

Text

beauty and brains?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: Mild Language.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

Though the game the night before had them arriving at their hotels late production had them up at what felt like the ass crack of dawn.

Charles fought for his life to wake up and was happy he’d thought through pre-ordering room service because it arrived not long after his shower. He ate his food in silence, sleep still clinging to him and the coffee they sent not doing much to help bring him back to life. A late night didn’t usually do this to him, but he thought maybe despite his early arrival to Louisiana the jet lag may still have gotten to him.

He tosses the covering for his breakfast back onto the plate and sits back on the couch. His phone vibrates and though he’s half asleep and wanting to stay that way he picks it up, barely noticing it’s a call before he puts the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he asks, voice cracking.

“Hello?” Daniel mimics. “Open your door.”

If Charles had it in him, he’d roll his eyes, but he hangs up and pulls himself off the couch with a groan. He undoes the locks and the door swings open, nearly knocking him over as the three men walk into his room like it’s their own space.

Daniel takes his spot on the couch while Carlos and Alex take the other two. Charles gives them all a look, but besides Alex, who looks sheepish, they look as if they’ve done nothing wrong at all. It’s a losing battle, so he sighs and plops down into the love seat perpendicular to the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

Carlos shrugs. “We were up and restless, thought we’d come here and wake you up if you weren’t.”

“Well, I’m awake.”

“And we’re bored,” Alex says.

A second eye roll in what has been less than two minutes. He enjoys spending time with these guys, more so with how much closer they’ve become due to filming. But they were also annoying in the way friends could be.

“You cannot entertain yourselves?”

“We can, but we were talking, and we know you’re still as mind blown by this as the rest of us. Who knew Lewis had a secret sibling,” Daniel says.

Carlos nods. “And that she’s American.”

All of them nod in agreement, because even if that isn’t at the forefront of Charles’ mind it is something that they couldn’t have seen coming. They got to speak to her a little after the game before she was whisked off elsewhere and her accent threw him off. It wasn’t the one you default to for Americans, but it was clear that it belonged to some section of this country. Her mother’s was the same, which is why it was a little silly that they weren’t prepared to hear it come out of her.

To be fair to them there was a lot to keep up with this.

“Yeah, that shouldn’t have been a shock. But hey, there was a lot going on. That dancing though, it’s like things I’ve seen before, but not. Ya know? I asked Lewis and he said they’re called majorettes. I looked it up last night and it’s almost always this good. Especially since little Hamilton became captain, people sing her praises. There’s one that has millions of views on twitter alone. I’ll send it later.”

The others speak amongst themselves, and Charles feels his mind wander off. He thinks about how confusing and brilliant last night was. Every part of it. He’d never watched American football on a college level, and it was as entertaining as at a professional level. Then the band was in peak form. It got his brain working on music again in a way it hadn’t in a while. And of course, the dancing. If that was what the majorettes had to offer, then he was eager to see what else they had going on.

“I’m a little surprised that’s how they decided to let us meet her. Lewis seems to be the protective type and that could have gone either way,” Carlos says.

“He trusts us not to be weirdos, even if he didn’t, we wouldn’t have been stupid enough to say anything on camera for everyone to see. You know F1 will put out anything, even if they have to apologize for it later,” Charles says.

Daniel snatches a bottle of water from the table and nods. “Plus, I’ve seen that man win multiple championships and I have never seen him prouder and happier than that. He clearly supports her and would want to showcase her talent.”

“True, but I wonder what that means for today. I’m guessing it’ll be something school related. If they have me do school work under pressure,” Alex says.

“Like Carlos when he forgot that he should be able to drive an F2 car.”

“Hey!”

They all descend into laughter, while Carlos glares at them, arms crossed, and eyes clearly showing he’s not here. Probably imagining how he panicked himself so much it was like someone asked him to drive Nascar.

A knock on the door puts a stop to the laughter and without a word they all gather their stuff and head toward it. Their main producer, Anne, is there and she looks worried. Then she notices the number of people and Charles watches her relax.

“Time to load into the van, everyone.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daniel says.

They head out of the room, and with the weird speed of the elevator, are in the lobby in less than a minute. Lewis and Lance are huddled together laughing and some of the production crew linger around talking in groups. When everyone sees them, they head out to the vans awaiting them.

When they get in Daniel and Lewis take the first row of seats while Alex takes the front and the other three in the back. The moment the seat belts click the cars are moving and Charles watches Daniel lean over to Lewis with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Any clues?”

Lewis looks contemplative and then he laughs.

“Hm… prepare to feel dumb.”

Daniel laughs. “So regular day at work?”

“You have no idea.”

From there it’s silence, but the kind where you can tell everyone is still a little tired. All their starter energy exerted, so now they need a moment.

It’s being tired and wanting to prepare himself for Charles. He went in yesterday with so little and he knows it showed, but he wants it to be a little different this time. There can be shock, but he doesn’t want to seem like anything they do and what she’s there to show them is something he didn’t expect of her. He’d hate to seem like he has any preconceived ideas of who she is. People who don’t like him would latch onto that and misinterpret, and there’s a possibility Lewis might too, but mostly he doesn’t want to offend.

After twenty minutes of mindless scrolling, they pull up to a building. From their surroundings it’s clear that this isn’t where they should park, but it’s clearly been made so that if one needs to it can.

Everyone piles out of the vehicle. And despite being the one who should get up first of the three, his friends are children who push him down and get out before him. Charles is on his third eye roll of the morning and the last to get out. And just as he does Iman emerges from the building and stands at the top of the steps with a smile. Today she’s in utility pants and a shirt that has a familiar emblem on it.

“You're late,” she shouts.

“You told me eight, it's seven forty-five,” Lewis yells back.

“True, but I’ve had a man in here squealing about meeting a seven time champion and multiple F1 drivers. Have mercy on a girl who was forced to take an eight a.m. in her last semester will you?”

Everyone laughs at that, and they walk up the stairs toward her. She waits and then turns toward the building, but she pauses and turns around to face them.

“Where are my manners?” she asks, then points at Lewis, “And yours.”

“What did I do?”

She rolls her eyes and turns toward the other five drivers with a smile that makes Charles give her one of his.

“I know all of you know my name and I yours, plus we kind of met last night, but let me properly introduce myself. I’m Iman Hamilton, little sister of this dweeb, captain of the SU Dancing Dolls, and a college student on her last semester close to losing her mind.”

She steps toward Carlos, hand out, and she shakes his. He gives a small greeting, and she goes down the line to each of them doing that. As Charles takes her hand, he notes her hands are soft, but the shake is firm.

“I’m Charles, it’s wonderful to meet you.”

“You as well.”

She also greets all the staff individually and then retakes her position in front of the door.

“Are y’all prepared for the horrors and wonders of an eight a.m. hands on class?” Her voice is fake cheery, and it makes Charles and Daniel laugh.

“Speaking of what would this class be?”

Iman throws her head back and laughs, then glances toward Lewis. “He is smooth.”

“Don’t let him get you.”

“Ooh, they talked about me,” Daniel jokes.

That sends laughter through everyone, and it lifts a weight that Charles didn’t realize was there. He was a little nervous, but he couldn’t understand why. But at least he could feel with the shift in everyone that it was a mutual feeling.

Without another word Iman turns and pulls the door open. Charles ensures he’s in after Lewis and catches a glimpse of someone rocketing back into a classroom. It must be the man that Iman was talking about. The excitement is flattering.

As they walk down everyone, especially the cameras, take in the space. There are pictures and many didn’t contraptions lining the walls. Probably as a representation of what goes on in this building. There was a sign on top of it, but it was too high to see where they parked. So, Charles looks up at the wall at the end of the hall and there he sees: School of Mechanical Engineering.

His eyes go wide unintentionally, but he reins it in and nudges Carlos. It takes a moment before the Spaniard sees what he does, and his reaction is very much the same. The others have already seen the sign and they look from the sign to the woman leading them and back.

The smile that forms on Charles’ face reflects the pride he feels. Of course, he knows what it’s like to be happy and proud of his siblings' success in their fields, but in that moment, he understands why Lewis feels it. He understood last night, but when his mechanics and friends spoke about how engineering as a degree takes a lot out of you, he was sure. They spoke of sometimes struggling with it and normal life, so he couldn’t imagine an extracurricular that was probably as consuming.

The feeling dumb was definitely already starting.

When they reach the door to her class it’s wide open and in the center of the only space without tables stands a man old enough to be a teacher and students in similar clothing to Iman. Most seem giddy, some seem mildly interested, and there are one or two that look like they don’t care at all. Good for the ego.

Iman leads them to the center, standing directly across from her class and the drivers so she’s facing neither. Her hands go wide, gesturing to either group.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet drivers currently a part of the F1 grid. F1 drivers, welcome to Advanced Internal Combustion Engines. We’ll be here for three hours, so I’ll leave the more personal introductions to you.”

She pauses and there’s a chorus of greetings that come from both sides. Charles watches as her lips part to presumably say something else, but then the man who is obviously the instructor takes center stage with a giddy smile. It’s a little amusing, but mostly nice to see him so excited about this. Worry about how roping siblings in this would disrupt their lives, even for a short time, has been a thing since the beginning. Especially when they may not have people to work for or with that would love this kind of thing.

“It’s nice to meet all of you. My name is Dr. Malcolm Johsnon. I’m a big enjoyer of F1 and racing in general, just as many of the students in this class are. My industry background is predominantly in IndyCar, which is why this class focuses a lot on the types of engines used in those kinds of race vehicles. Today as much as you’ll be getting a peak at Iman’s life, you’ll see what the students learn here and a glimpse at the parts that make your cars go. I’m open to any questions you might have at any time.

Alex raises his hand. “Oh, if you worked or work for IndyCar, how did you end up teaching? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind at all.” He hitches a thumb in Iman’s direction, “Her mother can be very persuasive. She’d also taken a stint teaching as a break from working with IndyCar teams, so she had much to rave about. Plus, she wanted me here to make sure they taught her child right.”

That earns a few laughs, but Charles sees the odd look from a few students who are displeased but already knew this knowledge. Though it doesn’t feel like they’re displeased with their instructor, just Iman. An expected response to someone who uses the connections she has or in this case the connection just stepped in for her.

Which makes Charles pause. Wait, did he say Sherri?

“Your mother works in IndyCar?” he asks, his eyes on Iman.

“Has since before I was born. Racing is a family affair. Though more of us are on the engineering side than in the driver seat.”

When she says it, a fist extends out toward her from the corner of Charles’ eye and she bumps her fist against Lewis, smiling wide and winking at her older brother.

“But enough of that, though we’ve all agreed to this we still have a project to work on. And surprisingly multiple three hour classes aren’t enough time.”

There are several mutters in agreement and with that students disperse to the tables scattered throughout the massive room. Iman goes to one in the back with three other people. They get to work without a word and production and Dr. Johnson step closer to the drivers, forming a circle.

“Our focus is Iman and her life and what she does, but we don’t want all of you to just crowd her. As much as we want shots of what she’s doing and your interaction, we want this to be a learning experience just like the other times were. Engage with the other students without crossing any boundaries and maybe even see if any of that knowledge you get from your own mechanics is familiar here, okay? We’ll move you guys if we feel you linger here or there too long, but just go where you feel pulled. Also, there are some students who have little flags attached to their tables to signal they are most comfortable with questions, so look out for those but don’t shy away too much from the others. Got it?” Anne asks.

Everyone nods. She then gestures for Dr. Johnson to take the floor.

“And things get a little hectic, so over there is some PPE for y’all to use. I want this to be safe for them and for you. Cool?”

“Yes, sir,” Lewis says, and identical sentiments follow.

“Then let’s get started!”

Lewis is the first to break off and head toward the table. He grabs the goggles, a dingy rag, some sort of apron, and a pair of gloves and then makes a beeline for Iman’s table. Lance follows suit and that makes the first decision for everyone else. Charles sticks with Carlos as they grab their PPE and then head toward the closest table. There is a flag over it, but neither of the men say anything. They watch as one of the students takes apart their engine. It looks around the size of the ones inside of their cars, but something is different about it. Something off.

“Wait, did you grab the wrong piece?” A man, whose shirt has the name Stephen on it, asks.

Everyone pauses and looks to him and then to the engine.

“Uh, I don’t think s… Oh for fuck’s sake,” says the woman, Jennifer.

The curse is said so softly that almost all of them have to stop themselves from laughing, Charles has to cover his mouth and Carlos turns away, but you can see his body vibrating with silent laughter. Jennifer catches all of them and glares before walking off toward what looks like a storage space at the back of the room.

When shes out of sight they all laugh out loud. It takes a minute to pull it together, but they manage it.

Stephen turns to Charles. “You noticed it too? I saw you looking at it weird.”

This isn’t really his wheelhouse, so Charles feels himself get a little unsure of how to answer, but he reminds himself that these are students, and they expect some sort of failure when learning so even if he sounded silly it wasn’t like they’d look at him too harshly. At least he hopes.

“Um, yes. It looks like the one we use, I’ve seen it a few times and though it may not be the same, something about it didn’t seem right. Though I’m not fully sure what.”

Stephen nods.

“It’s definitely something that would stand out if you’ve seen them enough. It’s why she’s mad, she’ll usually catch it when we do it. But if ya want we can walk y’all through it. This is just us kind of playing around with ideas at this point, so we have the time.”

Charles finds himself excited again and he takes a few steps closer to the table.

“We’d love that. It’ll impress and confuse our mechanics if we come back knowing more than we did before,” Carlos says.

All the others introduce themselves and when Jennifer returns, they dive deep into what they’re trying to do. Though they only planned to half take it apart they disassemble it completely and get Carlos and Charles in on putting it back together. How they explain it is half dumbed down and half with the understanding that the pilots would have some knowledge of what they’re doing. Though everyone else has rotated, an hour passes before a producer pulls them away from the table. It’s with a little grumbling from both of them, but they get why.

The rest of their adventure is much the same, though for shorter bursts. Even the tables without the flags are more than open to answering questions they may have and as time goes by Charles realizes that with each table, he’s able to understand what the hell they’re talking about. And it makes him think back to all the times he’s been confused listening to his mechanics about a million things. It’s all clicking for him.

“Hey Sharl!”

The voice startles him, and he turns toward it to see Lewis back at his sister’s table. The man is waving him over so Charles excuses himself and walks over. Daniel is making the table he’s at laugh at something and it’s probably some off the wall joke that sometimes has Charles looking at him like he’s lost it.

“Hi,” he says once he reaches the table.

“Hey. Saw you haven’t been here yet,” Lewis says.

“It was the next stop.”

“Mhm.” When Lewis says that there’s a look in his eyes that Charles can’t quite decipher so he doesn’t try to. He’s used to him keeping things a little close to the chest.

“Are you harassing that poor man, Lew?” Iman asks, without looking up.

“I’m not doing anything?”

“Mhm, sure you’re not.”

“I’m not! Tell her I’m not harassing you, Sharl.”

Charles finds himself laughing at the two. It’s like something he and his brother’s would do. High pitched voice while defending themselves and all.

“He’s not harassing me. I promise,” he says.

Iman finally looks up, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

“You sure you’re not just taking up for him, Charles? He’s not that big and bad, I promise.”

“I’m sure.”

“Let me know if he does, I’ll deal with him.”

She winks at Charles and then gets back to her work, explaining why she felt the need to lubricate a piece more than is usually called for. Her partners look unsure, but they go with it. As she does it, she explains out loud what it should do to the two pilots and Charles is having a hard time splitting between Lewis’ pouting - which is losing steam by the second - what she’s explaining and watching her. She’s so focused and even when the piece gives her problems she keeps going, barely getting frustrated.

And when she works, her smile is genuine and bright.

#charles leclerc x black reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula one x black reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fan fiction #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc

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operation-steal-chans-laptop · 1 year

Text

Darkness claimed the room, and the passage of time started to blur. You're unsure of how long it had been since Chan had texted you, but it was enough time to prove as testimony that, contrary to what he had said, he in fact wasn't on his way home.

You were accustomed to nights like these, and usually you would have already fallen asleep, but tonight was different. You don't know why, but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't seem to get any shut eye. Maybe you didn't get enough energy out during the day. Maybe it was the cup of tea you drank before bed. Or maybe it was the stress from work. Whatever the reason, you found it impossible to sleep, and eventually you gave up trying.

You rolled over onto your side, and turned on the lamp next to your bed, filling the room with a soft yellow glow. Then you reached for your phone. The gentle touch of your finger grazing the screen awakens it showing 1:13 am plastered across the face of the device. You groan and sit up, pressing your head and top of your back against the headboard and the small of your back into the plush pillows behind you. There wasn't much left to do but wait.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes pass, but it seems like thirty, forty, or even an hour. At some point, the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by the sound of footsteps echoes through the dorm. The footsteps grow louder as they approach the bedroom, then all sounds come to a stop and the door begins to open revealing a tired Chan on the other side, his makeup smudged around his eyes and his hair disheveled.

"Hi baby," you say in a pitiful, hushed voice. At the sound Chan looks up at you, his eyes holding yours and he lets out a sigh, all his features softening as he does so, almost as if the world had been lifted from his shoulder.

“What are you doing up so late princess?” He says now stepping fully into the room “Couldn’t sleep,” you answer while getting up from the bed and meeting him halfway. “Look at you in your cute little pajamas,” he coos softly as his strong arms wrap around your waist pulling you to his chest. You take this opportunity to burrow your flushed face into him, which causes him to chuckle a little.

“You’re so cute when you’re shy, you know that?” Chan plants a kiss on the top of your head and pulls away from you, his hand grabbing hold of yours “Come here babygirl.” Hand in hand Chan then walks you over to his desk chair, he sits down first and leads you onto his lap, his arms find themselves wrapped around you again and the room falls into a short-lived silence.

"I missed you so much”

“Yeah?”

Your face slides deeper into the crook of his neck as he hums back, "Mhm," a gentle and content response. You inhale deeply and sigh, "I missed you too." Your hand starts to trail down his solid chest and your fingers slide into the divots of his abs. "Can I see that pretty face please? I missed it so much today.”

“uh uh”

“Please pretty girl?” He whispers in your ear. The endearment only made you want to bury deeper into him but eventually you manage to muster up enough courage and your head lifts from the comfort of the junction of Chan's neck and shoulder revealing your heated face.

You refused to make eye contact, you were sure that if you did you might just combust. As if he can read your mind, Chan then slides his palm up to your face and places your chin between his fingers, lifting your head “There’s my pretty girl~” His captivating brown eyes and adulation filling your stomach with butterflies.

His hand moves once again, this time from your chin up to your cheek, cupping your face, and his thumb starts sweeping across your dusted pink skin. "So beautiful," Chan breathes the remark so quietly it almost goes unnoticed.

At this point, you've lost all control and are desperate for some of it back. Your hand, which was previously resting on Chan's stomach, started to wander once more, moving downward before stopping once you reached the waistband of his black shorts.

You have a devilish glint in your eyes as you do this, and your hand slides down in the space between the two of you, starting to stroke him through his pants. His head throws back and his lips part ever so slightly at the contact of your hand. “feels good, hm?”

“mhm”

You lean in and press a few kisses on the now exposed skin of his neck feeling the faint vibration of his low groans on your lips. Your hand continues to move over his ever-growing bulge, his breath becoming heavier and his heartbeat quickening all while his hips buck softly into your hand.

In an instant all your movement comes to a stop, leaving Chan a panting mess underneath you. “Keep going,” he whines as his head throws back once more, this time in frustration. “Hmm,” you hum in acknowledgement but would you actually listen? The answer was no.

“Keep going” he says again, the sweet tone that he previously had is now gone and his voice is deeper than before causing chills to run down your spine, but you still don’t listen.

Knowing the power you have over him in this moment, you grow cocky and lean in again, this time whispering the mocking phrase "make me."

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gatorbites-imagines · 8 months

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Kinktober day 13

Donquixote “Corazon” Rosinante + Bondage/Shibari

Is it clear from the one piece characters on my kinktober list who my faves are? Yeah, I have a problem.

No outright naughty action in this, I just think Rosinante needs to be allowed to relax sometimes under someone’s care, ya know?

Reader is a marine, cuz idk.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Rosinante gave a soft exhale as his shoulders complained from his position, one he had laid in for a while. The floor was starting to get uncomfortable under his body as he had laid there for a long time. His arms were tied behind his back and attached to his feet in a hogtie, as crimson ropes were splayed across his body in different patterns in what could almost be art.

His face had been wiped clean of his makeup the moment he had stepped into your office, his clothes tucked off his body until he was down to his underwear, undershirt, and socks. You had pulled off your tie and wound it around his head, catching the fabric between his lips and teeth in a gag. It was more the thing it meant than keeping him quiet, your office had been soundproofed years ago, being gagged just always had Rosinante feeling lighter in a way.

He had lost track of time a long time ago, he could have laid there for ten minutes or two hours, the only thing letting him know that time had passed was the ache in his limbs and the drool that was pooling down his chin and into a puddle on the shiny floors. Your rank in the marines allowed you your own office, and not a week had passed before you and Rosinante had christened the place.

Now it had become somewhere for your lover to come to you when he needed to be taken out of his own head for a while, you could do it back in your rooms, but your rank also meant you had much more work than the average person. This resulted in the two of you making your office into a safespace for Rosinante to relax and let his stress go as you tied him up, letting him lay there as you worked.

Rosinante had shut his eyes after a while, he wasn’t asleep, but it felt something like it as his stress seemed to melt out of his body little by little, and his mind seemed to enter a quieter headspace. He didn’t even notice as you got out of your seat, having finished the last of your paperwork, and wandered over to where he was laid out like an art piece.

His eyes fluttered open as you caressed your hand down his back, letting it drag up into his head and brushing it out of his eyes. The two of you had done this so many times you didn’t need words, he knew you were asking if he was ready to wrap it up as you were done with work. You could continue it back in your room, as it was larger than his own and more private, or you could wrap it up completely for the evening.

The tie was the first thing you removed, tucking it out from between his teeth and rolling the drool covered fabric up into a ball, shoving it into the pocket of your marine coat. Then you got to work untying the rest of his body, starting by carefully letting his arms and legs down, making sure to rub his wrists and ankles to make sure they were fine.

Rosinante sighed softly as you started unwrapping the rest of the rope around his torso, taking your sweet time to let him enjoy the slow builddown of it, letting him slowly put himself back together piece by piece. It was an intimate moment, something that probably didn’t make sense to many others, but this entire situation was built on a lot of love and trust, and it had taken a long time to get to this point where Rosinante could give himself over to you and not worry.

You made sure to massage and rub the areas the ropes had dug into his skin, muttering soft praise as you pressed a soft kiss against his lips. It took some time before Rosinante was ready to get dressed, which was where you got to your feet and grabbed the clothes that had been taken off and folded earlier. After your lover was dressed, you pressed a kiss to his cheek before quirking a brow at him as if to ask if he was ready.

Rosinante gave a soft nod, neither of you even needing to say a word as you stepped out of your office. You lock the door after you as is procedure, and after that the two of you take the less used hallways to reach your personal bedroom. It is up to Rosinante if he wants to be tied up again when the two of you get to your room, or if he just wants to cuddle and go to sleep, you wouldn’t mind either. You would do anything for him, just as he would for you.

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moonslie04 · 2 months

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scaramouche x male reader

masterlist previous next

Part 7: Raspberry scent

♡♡♡———————♡♡♡———————♡♡♡——————

“Wait so you’re telling me that Lumine, sweet innocent Lumine, fought with someone in highschool? You’re lying.” Scaramouche said, disbelief evident in his voice.

YN let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling as he did so. He nodded as he took a sip of his coke. “I’m being serious!! The guys were making fun of Ae because of his long hair and people at our old school were absolute assholes so they obviously ridiculed him.” YN said, rolling his eyes.

“Holy shit. I’m never pissing her off again. Forever terrified of her.”

They were sitting at McDonald’s. After the disaster that turned out to be YN’s house, Scaramouche had decided that some comfort food would do both of them some good.

“So, tell me about Nahida. Lumine mentioned that she was your sister?” YN said, shoving fries in his mouth.

Scaramouche’s eyes twinkled, “Already talking about me are you? You know if you wanted to know about me, you could’ve just asked.” Scaramouche said, earning himself a half-hearted glare from the [your haircolor],

“She’s not my real sister. When I was 15, I saw her getting bullied by some kids from The Academia. She was around 13 at the time. And ever since then, she’s like a bug that I can't shake off.” Scaramouche said, a small smile on his lips.

“Ahh that’s so cute! I’ve always wanted siblings but never had any..” YN shrugged. “Show me her photos!! If you don’t mind of course”

Scaramouche shook his head, pulling out his phone. He moved his seat closer to YN’s, causing the other boy’s face to bloom red. Scaramouche chuckled under his breath.

He opened his gallery, images of the white haired teen causing him to smile fondly.

“Wait wait! What’s this one?” YN asked, pointing to a photo of Scaramouche playing with an orange cat that Nahida and Scaramouche had found and sort of taken in. She was still a stray but they gave her food everyday and played with her.

“Oh, that’s Pepper. She lives or comes near my dorm and technically Nahida started to feed her everyday but then i also started to feed her.” Scaramouche explained, scrolling through his folder of Pepper.

“Oh, she’s so cute!! I need to meet her!” YN squealed, scooting closer to Scaramouche and leaning.

Scaramouche turned his head, suddenly aware about how close YN was. Very cliche but time seemed to slow down. Scaramouche could smell the raspberry scent of YN’s shampoo, mixed with his perfume which made Scaramouche wonder when the other had time to put it on. His breath hitched as he noticed how easy it would be to kiss YN, how much little distance he would have to move to taste the other’s lips. Scaramouche suddenly felt breathless as he watched YN bite his lip in thought as he scrolled on Scaramouche’s phone. His mind wandered and his thoughts got more scattered.

“Oh Scara, you have a call.” He heard YN’s voice and the melodic voice broke him out of his thoughts. He hummed in response, his eyes refocusing on his phone.

He groaned inwardly as he saw his step-mom’s name flash across the screen. “Gimme a minute. Sorry.” He mumbled, getting up and going outside.

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A/N: Right, im so sorry! i got a new phone and then lost all the images and apps so i had to make new profiles-

#genshin smau #male reader #ftm reader #genshin impact #smau #x male reader #scaramouche x male reader

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tigertales9 · 1 year

Text

Necessary Roughness

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: It's been exactly a year since the Bengals Super Bowl appearance against the Rams. This fic is traveling back in time to 2/13/22 to relive some of those moments, both good and bad.

Location: Bengals Super Bowl after-party at Pauley Pavilion on the UCLA campus (with a few flashbacks to SoFi Stadium).

A/N: I'm in my Super Bowl feels and decided to churn out a little something to make me feel better. Fair warning: The smut is smutting. There's a 99% chance I'm going to write a part 2 for this, but it'll be a minute (more like a month) since I'm slow as hell.

Part 2 is now up : Necessary Roughness II

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You take a sip of your margarita, throwing occasional glances at the stage where your man is singing and half-ass gyrating with Kid Cudi.

"This marg is kinda weak," your best friend announces. "Like lime kool-aid with a tiny splash of tequila."

"Yeah, it sucks," you nod in agreement, rolling your shoulders before thinking back over the past several hours.

The Super Bowl did not go the way you wanted. The temperature was 82 degrees at kick-off, second hottest on record. "This ain't football weather!" seemed to be the battle cry of the Bengals fans in your section at SoFi Stadium. It all went down hill from there. The o-line couldn't block for shit, serving Joe up on a platter for a Super Bowl record 7 sacks and a ton more pressures and hits. You shake your head when you remember how scared you were on that one really awful hit. With 11:38 left in the game, Joe was absolutely hammered to the ground, immediately grabbing his good knee and grimacing in pain. You held your breath until he finally got to his feet and limped off the field, refusing medical treatment. You held your breath on every play after that as well, absolutely terrified that he would get another gruesome injury like he did in his rookie season.

"Hey, you want another crappy drink?" Your bestie's voice pulls you out of your anxious recollection for a second. "Uhhh, yeah. Thanks." She nods her head and waves the bartender over as you slide back down memory lane.

Even with everything that went wrong, the Bengals still damn near won the game. It took a sketchy holding call with less than 2 minutes left to win it for the Rams. "Fuck 'em," you whisper, taking a sip of your fresh drink as you think about the look on Joe's face as you greeted him briefly in the tunnel after the game. You bite your lip when you think of the pain in his eyes.

"This drink is stronger," your bestie chirps, giving you a thumbs up as the music hits a crescendo before slowly grinding to a halt as Kid Cudi's set ends. "Much stronger," you smile, taking another sip while searching the stage for Joe; he knew where you were -- on the far back wall at the makeshift bar -- so you knew he'd eventually make his way to you.

You continue to sip your drink as your best friend chatters in your ear. "This is kind of a weird place to have an after-party," she states. "What's it called again?"

"Pauley Pavilion," you answer. "It's really close to where they guys are staying."

"Cool," she says, swaying in her seat to the fairly subdued DJ set that's just started up. "Are they gonna have another live set?" she asks, "or just this DJ stuff?"

"I'm not sure. I guess we'll find out in a bit." You pat her leg and give her a smile. "I'm glad you're here with me, Gina."

"Me too," she grins, looking around at the other folks posted up at the bar. "Doesn't seem like very many WAGS came."

"They're mostly up front by the stage."

"Oh, that makes sense."

You take another sip of your cocktail before letting your mind wander a bit.

You didn't want to come to the after-party, but you knew you needed to support Joe who really didn't want to come. When he'd locked eyes with you in the tunnel at SoFi, your stomach dropped at the look on his face. You were devastated for him, but you were also really glad he seemed to be in one piece, even though he was slightly favoring his 'good' knee. You'd waited for him to greet his parents before stepping forward to hug him. "I love you," you'd murmured against his sweaty neck, feeling his arms tighten around you as he returned the sentiment. His eyes were glassy as he stepped back and captured your gaze. "You're still coming to the after-party, right?" he'd asked, grimacing for a second while shifting his weight onto his hurt knee before quickly shifting it back. You'd dodged the question. "How's your knee?" He'd shrugged. "Prob just sprained. I'll get an MRI when we get back home."

You smile to yourself when you remember him leaning down until his nose was almost touching yours.

"Babe, I need you to focus. Are you coming to the after-party?" You'd grinned at his bossy tone. "Yes, sir. Your parents aren't coming, but Gina is coming with me. I need to stop by the airbnb first to shower and change clothes. I'm sweaty and gross." He'd given you a quick kiss. "You're never gross," he'd whispered, waving to a team employee who was trying to get his attention. "Gotta go," he'd said, slowly backing away from you. "Text me when you get to the party."

You sigh as a loud burst of laughter pulls you back to the present. A few seconds later, you almost jump off of your barstool when you feel a big hand squeeze your shoulder then slide under your long hair to rest on your neck. "What the hell?" you snap, throwing a nasty look at the offender before realizing it's Joe. "Oh shit, Joe, you scared the hell out of me," you laugh, pressing a hand over your racing heart. "I thought you were some strange perv." He grins at the look on your face. "Nope, just a familiar perv," he teases, giving you a wink. "Good game, Joe," Gina chirps, smiling when Joe makes a stank face. "I thought y'all should've won." Joe heaves a sigh and shrugs his shoulders. "It is what it is," he mumbles, giving Gina a smile to soften his abrupt words.

You squirm in your seat as Joe shifts his gaze back to you, giving you a slow up-and-down look while licking his lips. "I like your outfit," he says, reaching a hand out to finger the slinky fabric of your mini skirt. "Thanks," you whisper, glad you'd opted for the flirty circle skirt paired with a white v-neck tee, cognac leather knee boots and a matching lightweight leather jacket.

Joe leans in close. "I've got something to show you."

"Okay," you grin, giving him an expectant look.

He shakes his head. "Not here. It's behind the stage."

"Oh," you mutter, your eyes going wide at the wicked look on his face. "I can't leave Gina by herself," you say weakly.

He gives you a soothing smile before looking at Gina. "I'll bring her back in like 30 minutes, okay? Just stay here and don't move."

"No prob," Gina says, taking a loud slurp of her cocktail while giving you a knowing smirk. "Take your time."

"C'mon," Joe orders, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the throng of people, keeping his head down so he won't be recognized. You follow close behind, breathing a sigh of relief when you eventually find yourself in a mostly-empty hallway just behind the stage. "Where are we?" you whisper, eyes going wide as Joe opens a door and ushers you into a pitch-black room. "It's a storage room," he answers, flipping the light switch before locking the door. He turns to face you, the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling providing just enough light to see his heated look. He strips his jacket off as you take a quick glance at your surroundings -- mostly boxes stacked up against the walls. You toss your purse on top of a large box quickly followed by your jacket, licking your lips in anticipation as Joe closes the distance between you.

"How did you find this place?" you giggle.

"I asked one of the security guys if there was a private room I could use."

"Wait," you whisper. "What if he hid a camera in here?" Joe stops in his tracks and looks around the room before looking back at you. "Shit, can't risk that," he mutters, his voice husky with desire tinged with disappointment.

Damn, you think to yourself, trying hard to keep your own disappointment from showing. Joe takes in the look on your face and quickly makes a decision. "We don't need light," he states, placing his big hands on your waist and lifting you up and to the side before setting you down in front of a stack of boxes. He takes a few steps back and tilts his head. "Back up a little," he directs, giving a thumbs up when you take a couple steps back, your ample ass hitting about halfway up the top box. "Perfect," he murmurs, turning on his heel and striding toward the door, locking eyes with you as he reaches for the light switch. "You done manhandling me?" you laugh. "Just getting started," he growls, something primal flashing in his eyes before he flicks the switch, plunging the room into complete darkness.

You blink your eyes a few times, trying and failing to make out his shape in the pitch-black room. "Uhhhh, Joe? Where are you?"

"Right here," he answers, not more than a foot away from you. You reach both hands out and encounter his muscular chest, flattening your palms against him as he slowly closes the distance between you, backing you up against the stack of sturdy boxes. You feel the heat radiating off of him and smell his scent -- clean with a hint of spice. "It's so dark," you whisper, your pulse rate kicking into overdrive when you feel him drop a kiss on your neck. "Totally dark," he purrs, latching his lips onto your sensitive skin and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You whimper at the delicious sensation, suddenly aware of how loud you sound in the semi-silence.

"Are they gonna play more live music or just this half-ass DJ stuff?" you whisper, jumping as the next live set starts up. You feel Joe's gruff laugh against your neck. "Now we can be as loud as we want," he murmurs, sucking hard on the delicate flesh just behind your ear.

You close your eyes as he continues to tease you. You can feel the heavy bass from the speakers vibrating up through your legs, syncing up with the throbbing pulse beating in your chest … your neck … between your thighs. You slide your hands from his chest down to his waist and pull him closer, biting your lip as he cuffs his long fingers around your wrists, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp before slowly running his hands up your bare arms. "You have chill bumps," he whispers. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm burning hot," you moan, a little embarrassed at how needy you sound. There's a pause in the music. You hold your breath and count 2 - 3 - 4 before you viscerally feel the beat drop; a moment later Joe's lips crash down on yours, zero finesse just pure need. You grab his shoulders and hold on as he devours your mouth, his tongue thrusting and tangling with yours to the sultry, thumping beat.

After a minute, you taste the metallic tang of blood just before Joe breaks the kiss. "That's my blood," he breathes. "Sorry. Forgot my lip got busted during the game."

"Does it hurt?" you whisper.

"No. But you're probably grossed out by . . ."

Before he finishes his sentence, you cup a hand behind his neck and pull him back down, sliding your tongue in his mouth as his throaty groan vibrates against your lips. You reach your other hand down to his crotch, sliding your thumb up and down his prominent erection through his jeans several times before flicking the button open and lowering the zipper. You grab his waistband and give a tug, groaning in frustration when he places his big hands over your much smaller ones, stopping the downward progress of his jeans. "I need you in my mouth," you whine, going completely still when you feel his lips nestled against your ear. "Ladies first," he purrs, nipping your earlobe while sliding a hand under your skirt to cup your lace-covered crotch. You feel liquid heat flood your core as he grinds the heel of his hand against your clit. "So wet for me, baby," he groans. "I need to taste you." He gives your earlobe another nip before dropping to his knees at your feet.

You reach down and place your hands on his shoulders, trying to steady yourself in the sea of darkness. I feel like I'm floating, you think to yourself, squeezing your eyes closed when you feel his hands slide under your skirt, long fingers grasping your thong before slowly pulling it down. You grab a handful of your skirt and pull it up, tucking it into your waistband to give him easier access. You steady your hands on his shoulders again, breathless with anticipation for what's to come.

"Shit," Joe grumbles, making your eyes fly open. "What is it?" you ask, looking down as if you can actually see what's going on. "Panties are stuck on your boot zipper," he gripes, trying to delicately untangle the thong for several seconds before giving up. "Fuck it," he growls, ripping the scrap of lace in half and tossing it to the side. "Spread your legs for me," he orders, purring in approval when you widen your stance. You feel his hot breath on your crotch and you bite your bottom lip, bracing yourself for the feel of his mouth on your bare skin.

A second passes … and then another. You feel like you're on a roller coaster, inching up the last few feet of track before plunging over a steep drop; your body is already anticipating the fall, craving that out-of-control feeling but held back by his hesitation. You look down into the inky blackness, the sound of your hammering pulse beating in your eardrums louder than the music pulsating through the wall behind you.

You gasp his name when you finally feel him press a kiss against your clit, your core clenching hard as he follows the kiss with a delicate puff of breath. "Please?" you beg, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he licks a long swipe up your slit before plunging inside, no more teasing, just tongue-fucking you with deep, steady strokes.

He eventually drags his tongue up to your clit, teasing you with delicate licks followed by harder sucks until you're begging for release. "Don't stop!" you whine, biting your bottom lip when he slides two fingers into your slick heat, curling them to bullseye your sweet spot. You make a noise that's half-moan half-scream as your climax hits, hissing in pleasure as he continues to tease you. "My legs are gonna collapse," you whimper. "I've got you," he soothes, his hands gripping your waist to hold you up as you gasp for air.

After taking a minute to catch your breath, you slide your hands on top of his and remove them from your waist. "My turn," you whisper, dropping to your knees, hitting the floor a lot harder than you meant to. Gonna have bruises, you think to yourself, reaching forward as you hear Joe stand up and push his jeans and underwear down. His cock feels hot and heavy in your hands as you circle your thumb over the velvety head, sliding the precum in concentric circles before replacing your thumb with your tongue. You tease him with delicate licks and sucks before running your tongue up and down the length of his shaft, peeking up at him through your long lashes before you remember he can't see you. You usually maintain eye contact when sucking him, knowing it drives him crazy; but here in the absolute darkness you're able to focus on the feel and the smell and the taste of him.

You close your eyes and open your mouth, taking him about halfway in before stopping, teasing him a bit before taking him deep. You both groan when his tip brushes the back of your throat, and you push forward, knowing you're gonna gag but needing to take him deeper. You feel your eyes start to water as Joe places a big hand on the back of your head, his deep voice murmuring filthy praise as you worship his thick cock. Your core contracts at the slightly musky smell of him, causing you to moan. You hear Joe hiss at the added sensation, his hand fisting in your hair as you moan again, tracing the prominent vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue. "That's so good, baby," he grits out, "but I wanna cum in your tight little cunt."

You pull off of his cock just as he reaches down and hooks both hands under your armpits; he easily lifts you up, purring his approval as you wrap your legs around his waist, his cock already buried deep inside you before he sets your ass on the storage box behind you. You grab onto his shoulders and hold on for the ride as he immediately starts thrusting; you throw your head back, hitting it against the wall. Ouch! you think briefly before losing yourself to the sensation of Joe's thick cock pounding into you.

There's a brief break between songs, and you're captivated by the luscious sound of your flesh slapping together before the next song starts. Joe immediately gets into the rhythm of the new song, rolling his hips forward to the beat in a way that causes your eyes to roll back in your head. Shock waves of pleasure shoot up your spine with each hard thrust and you feel the delicious tension building deep inside you.

He leans down and presses kisses on your chin and your cheek before finally hitting your lips. He catches your whimpers and moans in his mouth before sliding his tongue inside, groaning when you give it a hard suck. "So hot tasting my pussy on your tongue," you moan against his slick lips, sucking his tongue back in your mouth then gasping when his next thrust bottoms out. "Jesus," he hisses, sliding a hand between your bodies to rub your clit as his hips snap forward. "I'm close," he grits out, his breath catching in his throat as your climax hits; he gives two more hard thrusts then follows you over the edge.

You suck air into your lungs as fast as possible, more than a little lightheaded in the aftermath of your mind-blowing orgasm. You hear Joe gasping for breath and smile into the darkness. At least he's just as wrung out as me, you think to yourself.

"You okay?" he finally wheezes, his breath warm on your neck.

"Yeah, aside from the bruised knees and cracked skull."

"Cracked skull?" he asks, running his hand over the back of your head.

"I'm exaggerating," you chuckle, moaning as he massages your scalp with his nimble fingers. "I bumped my head on the wall."

"Did you hit it hard? Why didn't you say something?" he asks, the concern in his voice making you smile.

"Because I was getting railed by this tall, hot stud with a perfect cock and I didn't want that to stop."

"Fair enough," he chuckles.

"How's your knee?" you ask.

"Just fine," he mutters, pulling up his underwear and jeans. "Sorry I was a little rough."

"You were amazing," you sigh, clinging onto him as he lifts you off the box and sets you on your feet. "Damn, my legs are shaky," you laugh as you sway against him; he holds you for a minute, giving your legs time to get decently steady.

"You good?" he finally whispers, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

"Yeah."

"Stay right here," he says. "I'm gonna go turn on the light.

"Okay." You untuck your skirt and let it fall back down your thighs. "Who knew having sex in a pitch-black room on a stack of boxes while almost fully dressed could be such a sensual experience?" you muse, locking eyes with Joe when he flicks the light back on. He smiles and gives you a wink. "Everything with you is a sensual experience."

"Thanks, babe," you say before pointing at the floor. "Are those my shredded panties?" He makes a sheepish face while scooping up the scraps of lace. "I got a little carried away," he mutters, eyes going wide as he looks at the ruined tiger-striped thong. "Oh no! These are my favs," he whines, looking at you with a pouty face. "Relax, I have another pair at home just like them," you soothe. "Plus, I can always order more." He nods his head as he grabs his jacket and stuffs the thong remnants in a pocket. "Order like 50 of 'em," he demands.

"Yes, sir," you laugh, digging in your purse for your pack of wet wipes and a fresh pair of panties. You quickly reach under your skirt to give your crotch a wipe before gingerly stepping into the panties. You hear Joe chuckle and you shoot him a glance, noting that he's staring at the ceiling with a wistful smile on his face. "What are you thinking about?" you ask, pulling a compact out to touch up your smeared eye make-up.

He rolls his shoulders a few times before meeting your gaze. "I'm thinking … the bad news is I lost the Super Bowl. But the good news is I made an amazing memory that'll last a lifetime."

"Being onstage with Kid Cudi?" you ask.

"What?" he furrows his brow. "Oh yeah, that too, but I was talking about this," he says, waving a hand toward you. "Sex in total darkness was crazy intense," he continues, a dirty smile gracing his pretty lips. "Maybe we should get some blackout curtains for our bedroom so we can recreate it every now and then."

"Sounds good," you agree, tossing the used wipes in a trash can and returning his smile as you walk toward him. "I also think you'd look really hot in a blindfold," you tease, giggling when his eyebrows shoot upward. "Ohhhh yeah, that sounds good," he mutters, his active imagination already conjuring up dirty visuals.

"Now that I think about it," you continue, "why haven't I had you in a blindfold in all the years we've been together?"

He gives you a cocky smirk. "Cause I'm a bossy motherfucker who likes to call the shots in bed?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh yeah, that's why." You watch him for a few seconds, grinning at the blissed-out look on his face as he stares into the distance. "I'm ready to go," you say, breaking into his fevered musings.

"Hold on," he sighs, closing his eyes. "I'm still imagining that blindfold action."

You shake your head at him. "We just had sex and you're already thinking about it again?"

"Obvs," he chuckles. "It's your fault for being so damn hot." He grabs the doorknob then pauses. "Listen, I wanna say something," he states, turning to face you.

"Okay."

"You see this smile on my face?"

"Yeah."

"You did that. On the shittiest day of my life, you made me smile." He leans down and presses a lingering kiss against your lips. "You make everything better," he continues, his voice cracking a bit as he pulls you into a tight hug. You feel your eyes well with tears as you return his hug. "I love you," you whisper, blinking hard to keep the tears from falling. "Love you, too," he sighs, burying his face in your neck while you run your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

After several minutes he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent before standing up and locking eyes with you. You wipe a stray tear as it slides down your cheek, searching his face to gauge his mood. He wipes a tear off his cheek and gives a pitiful sniff before speaking.

"So you gonna do the blindfold thing for me tonight?" he croaks, deftly jumping back as you swing your purse at him, just missing. "Boy, you're giving me emotional whiplash!" you snap. "Crying one minute and horny the next!"

"I've been horny the whole time!" he argues. "The gratitude and the love and the tears just bubbled up on top of the horniness!"

He delivers that last line with such an earnest expression that you can't help but laugh. You take several deep breaths before speaking. "Listen," you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "When you finally get home tonight -- probably around 7:30 or 8:00 -- you're gonna be dead tired. You're gonna want to eat dinner and crash not get your freak on."

"But it's Valentine's Day," he pouts, poking his plump bottom lip out for maximum sympathy. You check your watch. "It's well past midnight, so it's been Valentine's Day for a while." You gesture at the stack of boxes y'all had used and abused. "That dirty little romp should count as our V-Day action." He's already shaking his head before you finish your sentence. "Absolutely not!" he argues. "That was post-Super-Bowl-loss sex. No way that counts for V-Day."

"We'll see," you mutter, kind of surprised at how adamant he's being. "Right now I need to know what you want for dinner? I'll get home a couple hours before you, so I'll have plenty of time to make us a nice meal."

He gives you a cheeky look. "I want the blindfold."

"Babe, I need you to focus," you snap, echoing his words from earlier. You point a finger in his face. "When you get home tonight what do you want to eat?" He gives you a wicked grin and opens his mouth to answer; you quickly press a finger against his lips. "Don't say pussy," you order, smiling when he heaves a dramatic sigh. "Way to kick a man when he's down," he grumbles. "Oh hush," you chuckle. "I just want to make sure you get a good meal and get tucked into bed, with or without a blindfold."

"With," he insists, grinning at the exasperated look on your face. "Listen, I know I'm gonna be tired, so you'll have to do most of the work. Are you okay with that?" he asks, giving you a pleading look that you can't say no to.

"Do I get to call all the shots?" you ask.

"You can call most of the shots," he states, sinful lips curling up in a smile as you narrow your eyes at him. He gives you a dirty wink before continuing. "I mean, I've got a few ideas."

"Oh, you've got a few ideas?" you snark, rolling your eyes as you reach for the door handle. "Why does that not surprise me?"

He shrugs and gives you an innocent look.

"Bossy. Mother. Fucker." you say fondly, shaking your head as you sling the door open, giggling when Joe gives your ass a playful smack.

"You know you love it," he teases, his deep, throaty laugh like music to your ears as y'all walk back toward the crowd.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 5 months

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Other Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three (short version) and Part Three (long version).

You were awoken by Feather rushing down the stairs holding a glowing rectangle that you realised was a screen. "President Snow is inviting everyone to his palace! He's demanded it! Everyone will be on the street in minutes". Finnick nodded "it's a ploy to get us all out into the open, we can't go". "Well the rest of us have to" Feather said "but you two can stay here, maybe you can escape while everyone else is heading towards the mansion. Finnick didn't like those odds but nodded "yeah thanks Feather, we'll get ready and work out our next step". Feather nodded and tilted Finnick's face upwards as if inspecting him. You stiffened but it seemed to be an oddly sentimental act. "Good luck, I hope I never have to see you again" and he disappeared back up the stairs.

Finnick was right, there was no way you were moving on that leg today. Even swinging your leg hurt and your ankle couldn't have any weight on it. It was a good job you'd slept in warm trousers because there was no way you'd have been able to get any trouser leg over that ankle. "It's okay" Finnick told you "we'll work something out". He carried all your gear upstairs and then came back to carry you. He lifted you effortlessly and as always you were amazed how strong he was. "My ankle has its own heartbeat but you're really taking my mind off that" you said patting his chest and Finnick laughed "how?". "Duh with your beautiful body!" you said and Finnick put you down and then smiled at you "well it's all yours and if we survive today and get back home you can do whatever you want with it". You liked the sound of that but given whose home you were in that wording didn't feel quite right so you shook your head. "Whatever you want me to do with it, it's beautiful but it's yours Finnick and nobody ever gets to buy it again". Finnick blinked at your sudden seriousness and then smiled bashfully "thanks Y/n". You patted his cheek "no problem, now piggyback time!". Finnick turned so you could climb on when suddenly all the screens in the house lit up to tell you the rebels had won. President Snow had been de-throned.

You and Finnick wandered the streets like the other capitol residents in utter shock and not quite believing it was true...then you saw the rebel planes overhead and you grinned. "Finnick it's true! It's real! We won!". Finnick laughed and cheered loudly. You climbed off his back and settled onto one leg so you could hug him.

You carried on moving through the streets until eventually, you found an airship. Finnick knocked on the door and after your whole day of bad luck yesterday, you were due some good luck. "Finnick? Y/n?" a voice rang out and you saw Cressida appear from the side of the ship. "You're alive?" she asked and you grinned "hell yeah! You really thought you could abandon us and get away with it" and she rushed to hug you. Pollux appeared and gave you both a bright smile before joining in with the hugging. You were so happy you were saved you didn't even mind. Hugs for everyone!

Once they got on you the ship they began assessing your injuries. "Y/n's really damaged her knees, she's sprained her ankle or worse and her hip is really banged up too. Oh and she got electrocuted yesterday and her hands should probably be checked over too". "Finnick got electrocuted too! He has a dozen cuts all over his arms and body, his foot looks odd and he dislocated his shoulder and thought I didn't notice as he popped it back in" you said and Finnick looked at you. You stared back "what if you're going to tell on me I'll snitch back". Finnick just grinned shaking his head "we survived and we're going to live, that's all I care about" and he rested his head against yours. You didn't let go of your joint hands the whole way home...or you wouldn't have if you hadn't fainted minutes before you got into District 13.

When you woke up you noticed how heavy your head felt, you tried to move your hands to see if there was something attached to it weighing it down but your hands felt heavy too. Then your ears seemed to kick in and you realised people were shouting.

"I'm her sister! Blood matters more!". "No it doesn't! I'm her boyfriend, that's more than enough!".

You quickly realised it was Johanna and Finnick.

"Ow what so you matter more because romantic relationships are superior to everything else?" your sister yelled. "No of course not but I love her and we nearly died for each other!" Finnick responded. "Well I love her too and would've done the same for her!" Johanna said and you groaned. "God can the two of you fight over who loves me the most more quietly" and they both rushed over to you.

You quickly realised what they'd been arguing about as their shoulders knocked as they both tried to take the closest place next to you. "How are you feeling? Johanna asked and you frowned "strange, what happened?" and you looked to Finnick. He sighed "it was my fault, your injuries were worse than expected and there was a bite on your arm that needed stitches. The doctors think the blood loss mixed with everything you went through has thoroughly drained you so you might feel a little lifeless for a few days". "I'm sure I'll be fine after a good meal" you shrugged and tried to sit up before going pale at the effort. "Y/n hold on!" Finnick said and he helped you sit up, he moved you easily as if you were a doll and you felt as limp as one. It scared you a little and Finnick noticed. He took your hand and gave you a reassuring smile "hey don't worry, you're fine okay? Johanna and I are going to be here every day until you get better". Johanna took your other hand "we're not going anywhere, nurse Johanna is at the ready". That made you laugh and the two called a temporary truce seeing the sight they'd been hoping for.

"How are you?" you asked Finnick. You lifted your hand to his face with a frown as he had a lot of bruising there and around his neck. "Oh don't worry about me I'm fine" he smiled and you looked to Johanna for the truth. "He was in pretty bad shape too and has only been properly back on his feet since yesterday". Johanna went to say more but Finnick cut her off "I'll tell you it all later but for now...I just want to hear you speak" he smiled brushing some hair away from your face. You smiled "well all I want is to kiss you" and Finnick happily obliged (as Johanna rushed away, cursing you both). "We made it" you whispered happily and Finnick kissed your forehead "we sure did baby".

You spent all day with either Finnick or Johanna by your side and honestly, you couldn't be happier. They filled you in on what the world outside was doing but you didn't really care. Finnick talked about the plans he'd made to take you back to his district and to the beach house you'd discussed. "I know we didn't really properly sit down and think about it so I totally get if you don't actually want to live on the beach with me, we can work something else out" he said but you threw a tissue at him to get his attention. "I want the beach house with you Finnick. I want to come to your district with you" and his smile was like a warm sunrise on a summer's day.

It was lucky you had such nice memories because recovery was hard. Practically every part of your body ached and it was like you were having to learn how to do everything again for the first time. You couldn't sit up by yourself until the 3rd day and couldn't walk at all until a week later and even then you relied heavily on holding onto Finnick. The doctors steadily increased your food as they didn't want to suddenly rush your body with energy and fats so the progress was slow but steady. At times you felt so useless, like when you had to get Finnick to take you to the toilet or Johanna to help dress you. Neither of them minded of course but you struggled. When you were finally well enough to take a bath Finnick wanted to accompany you but that was just too much.

Finnick had gotten you into the tub but when you heard him coming to help you out, you practically threw yourself out and then couldn't get up again. When Finnick found you on the floor he was terrified. "Y/n are you okay? Why didn't you wait for me?". You pushed his kindness away just trying desperately to cover all of yourself with your towel. "Here let me help you" Finnick said but you pushed his hands away "no let me do it". "But I want to help you" Finnick said and you shook your head "I don't want you to". "Why?" he asked and you sighed tears forming "because I don't look good okay! My body is a wreck! I've lost so much weight, all my muscle is depleted and I look like a skeleton. There are ugly bruises all over me, scarring too and I look misshapen and swollen from being in a bed all the time. You can't see me naked until I've had a chance to work out and get back into shape". "Y/n you don't have to do anything to get your body ready for me to see it" Finnick said "I love you no matter how you look". "No you don't, you're just saying that to be nice" you said annoyed but Finnick didn't back down.

"I'm not being nice. I thought we were going to die so many times and then just when I thought we were safe you collapsed in my arms and I thought I'd lost you. The moment the doctor told me you were alive and breathing was the happiest moment of my life. It beat winning my own Hunger Games, the ending of the war, even falling in love with you so I don't care what you look like so long as you're here and healthy I will love every inch of you". "You're so soppy, you know that?" you asked him wiping away a tear and Finnick smiled. He picked you up and carried you back to your room in his arms. "I love you too" he told you and you chuckled, pleased he could translate angry moody Mason into plain English. He really was perfect for you.

After that, you didn't feel shy around Finnick anymore but you realised he was hiding things from you and that he wasn't as recovered as he said he was.

While you were sleeping one night he started shaking violently. You figured he was having a bad dream but he woke up with a yell and was panting as his hands shook and his fingers bent inwards at awkward angles, seemingly of their own volition. When it stopped, he collapsed against the bed, his forehead gleaming and you grabbed his arm "Finnick are you okay? I'm getting a doctor" and you rushed to do so but he grabbed you. "Y/n don't, they already know and I'm fine it's just one of the after-effects of the electric shock we got. My hands keep spasming and I struggle to grip things a little but Beetee thinks it should fade with time and if not I can do some physiotherapy to help". You frowned "is it painful?". From the grimace on his face you could tell the answer but he didn't want you to worry. "It's fine" he shrugged "just a little annoying at times, I just really hope it isn't permanent". You nodded feeling that deeply, if your hands were ruined you wouldn't be able to fight with an axe or defend yourself anymore. You'd feel so vulnerable and scared so you beckonned Finnick closer and hugged him. "Don't worry, your hands will get better and until then I'll cover for you. You can be my legs and I'll be your hands". Finnick chuckled "the perfect tag-team huh? Thanks Y/n" and wrapped in your arms, he didn't have any more spasms that night.

9 days after the end of the war you got a visitor and she wasted no time apologising for what she thought she'd done wrong. "I'm sorry we left you" Katniss said "down in the tunnels...you were just so far away I didn't think we could do anything for you" she told Finnick before turning to you "and I thought you went to go die with him" Katniss admitted. You nodded "well part of me did, we had a deal you see...but there's no hard feelings. Finnick and I did take off pretty quickly when those things first appeared". You shivered even just thinking about them and Finnick squeezed your hand. "We all just got to instinct at those moments and that's all you did" you said giving Katniss a small smile. She returned it but you could tell she wasn't feeling it. "I'm really sorry Katniss" you said and she didn't have to ask about what. "You don't have to say anything back" you told her "just know, we're here if you need anything" you said gesturing to Finnick and he nodded "any time".

You and Finnick were invited to President Snow's execution but neither of you wanted to go. You were now well enough to start making moves to District 4 so you and Finnick declined and planned your move. When President Coin heard your plans she called a meeting of all the victors in District 13 and told you her plans. You and Finncik were outraged at the idea of another Hungers Game and voted no immediately along with Peeta, Annie and Beetee. You managed to outnumber Johanna Katniss, Haymitch and Enobaria who voted yes. Coin relented there would be no hunger games but that Katniss could execute Snow. You and Finnick still had no interest in that and left 2 days later. You arrived in District 5 on the day of the execution and were preparing for the last part of your journey when you learned Katniss had killed Coin instead and everything was in chaos. The train was stopped and the captain asked what you wanted to do, go on to District 4 or head to the Capitol instead. Finnick did not take the news well.

"Why do I feel like we're never going to escape?" Finnick asked you, spiraling as his panic took over. "Every time we try to leave it's going to pull us back? There's no escape! Even now, even after it's all over they still find a way to drag us back. It never ends!". You shook your head and cupped his face "then screw it all! We don't play their game, we carry on as planned and let them work it out for themselves. We nearly sacrificed our lives for this and have done our time, we're finished and now it's our time". "We can do that?" Finnick asked and then he saw the look on your face. Finnick blinked and smiled. "Captain" he called "onto District 4 people, we're going home".

Later

You took to the beach life surprisingly well for a forest girl from District 7 and thank god you didn't burn in the sun because that would've been awkward.

When you and Finnick first got to District 4 you only had a shack on the beach but you actually didn't mind. Finnick had bought a plot of land away from the town so it could be just the two of you as promised and it was heaven. You had no idea what was going on in the world and neither of you cared. You spent each day wrapped up in one another and felt like you got to fall in love with him all over again.

After 2 months of bliss, you decided to start making a proper home, so you built a house! You had some knowledge of this being from a lumber district but Finnick really was popular and it felt like the entire population of District 4 came to help.

A year later you had your house on the beach. It was nothing grand like your Victor houses but you loved it and you loved Finnick. You'd worried after the excitement of war, when you settled into normalcy things between you would fizzle out but they didn't. It was Finnick Odair to be fair, things were never boring with him around and he always kept you occupied.

When he learned you weren't a super strong swimmer he made it his mission to teach you. Then he moved on to surfing and sailing and basically anything water-related. He was literally in his element in the water and you loved how happy he looked. His hands still sometimes bothered him and your hip had never quite fully recovered. Not to mention both of you still woke up with nightmares but you'd escaped and most importantly, you'd escaped together, Your life was the closest thing to heaven that existed as far as you were concerned.

About 2 years into your new life President Paylour contacted you and Finnick. They were prosecuting the members of the capitol who had abused the victors when they left the games and of course, the main Vicor they wanted to speak to was Finnick. You told him he didn't have to do anything, if he didn't want to re-live those memories and just wanted to move on then that was okay but he chose to see them put to justice. The second Finnick said that, you were all in recalling your promise to get justice for him.

You went to the capitol first, alone, to see what was required of Finnick and what the process would be. First, they needed an interview, where Finnick described key people and what they had done to him. You were of course there for his interview, holding his hand the entire time and telling them it was over when it was clear Finnick was done. He couldn't remember all the names but Feather had submitted his "little black book" voluntarily when he was arrested. All Finnick had to do was confirm the names. There were over 100 names in that book and Finnick said yes to most of them. It made you feel sick all over again but you sat up straight and kept your focus on Finnick. You held him extra closely that night and comforted him as he cried himself to sleep.

Months later there was a trial and they wanted Finnick to testify live. You objected to that strongly and vetoed it immediately. You'd seen the effect just the interview had on Finnick and weren't going to give the Capitol one last show. Instead, Finnick recorded some responses in the comfort of your own home and they projected them live.

You attended the trial as a witness to what the experience had done to Finnick as did some of the other Victors. It wasn't too hard preparing for the trial as you thought it might be. Sure it was tiresome and taxing but all you had to do was look at the people who had hurt Finnick and your motivation sprang back up. You gave your testimony with a perfect balance of emotion and composure. You looked those criminals in the eye when you told the judge you thought the highest punishment possible would be the only justice and cheered the loudest when it was passed. You were there when the sentences were carried out and then returned home to confirm for Finnick it was done. "Are they...is it done?" he asked. You nodded "the people who hurt you are gone, they can't do anything to anyone anymore" and you saw the weight melt off his shoulders. It took a few weeks for it to sink in permanently but finally, it clicked and Finnick was finally freed. You bought a puppy the week after, figuring Finnick needed an adorable distraction.

3 years later you and Finnick were still finding new things to do and were still as attracted to one another as ever. You were currently on the beach in the middle of the night because of Finnick. It didn't rain here often but it had tonight that made Finnick really excited! He demanded you both go out for a swim in the rain and you were going to protest that you'd get wet but realised that was the point. It was actually really nice to swim in the rain and you loved how only Finnick could get you to do these stupid things.

As you laid on the sand afterwards, you admired Finnick in the moonlight. You still thought he was the most beautiful man in the whole world and had quickly realised Finnick also suited the wet look very well. You had a sneaking suspicion that's why Finnick enjoyed getting you in the water with him so much but you didn't care. Shirtless or with a wet top plastered against his chest, he looked amazing every time and most of your swimming trips ended with the two of you pressed up against the sand together.

Tonight was exactly the same. Finnick saw the way you were looking at him and needed no more encouragement. He smelled and tasted like sea salt and

it had become your favourite taste over the years because of Finnick. Once the two of you had thoroughly tired yourselves out, you lay against the golden sand and just babbled in a happy exhausted manner.

"You know I think water boy suits you better than pitchfork boy or maybe seaweed boy?" you asked thinking about that time he went diving and came with tons of seaweed when you'd been expecting pearls. Finnick smirked "seaweed boy? I think I hate that more than pitch-fork boy". You smiled "wow that's extreme but yeah it doesn't quite suit you. Plus I think it's already taken". You couldn't remember who by but could've sworn you'd ready an old myth about a seaweed boy or was it a seaweed brain?

"So are you excited for tomorrow?" Finnick asked leaning over to you and you blinked "tomorrow?". After what Finnick had been doing you couldn't even remember what day today was. Finnick laughed "yeah tomorrow or I guess it's later today now, when your sister and all the other tributes are coming to visit?" he asked "and Katniss and Peeta are bringing little Prim for the first time...remember?". You smiled "it's ringing a bell, it'll be nice to see them. We haven't all been together like this since..." and you trailed off remembering. "When Coin asked us to go another Hunger Games" Finnick nodded "well this time, let's hope the topic won't be so depressing".

A lot had happened to the victors in the 5 years since President Snow had fallen but the districts all appointed new leaders and things were relatively stable. Annie had become mayor of District 4 which was mainly an honorary position for being a victor rather than an acting role but she loved her district and the people loved her too. Weirdly she'd become a friend to you and Finnick, you now smiled when you saw her and called out greetings to her in town.

Your sister Johanna was still in District 7, she'd been offered the honorary position too but declined of course. She never wanted the show and dance and instead got an ordinary position, helping organise and process trade operations. She didn't leave District 7 tons but had been spending more and more time with District 2's Ebobaria. She said they didn't want to label anything but you knew she was happy.

Seeing as all the tributes were pairing up, Haymitch claimed there must be something to it and said he should try his luck with Beetee but even as a joke, Beetee gave the man a sharp electric shock as a detterance. Luckily he just confessed his feelings to Effie instead. They were due to be married in the next Autumn and everyone was invited, hideous outfits a must of course.

Beetee was instrumental in coordinating all the districts and was now president of technological communications, aka he ran everything. It was what he deserved and he seemed happy so you all were too.

Katniss and Peeta were of course loved up, they married 2 years ago and their daughter whom they named Prim followed a year later. All of the victors had pretty much stepped away from the capitol and the new Panem to live out their lives quietly and so far nobody had tried to reap you for another games. So far, the new Panem was peaceful...well not too peaceful because it still had your sister Johanna in it.

"Oh yeah she never visits me anymore!" Johanna said "Finnick stole her away and never gave her back". Finnick shrugged "hey I don't have any restraints on her, she didn't want to be given back because she loved me and District 4 so much more than you!". Which led Johanna to argue you'd always be District 7 and the two bickered while you all watched happily. Your two favourite people were also the stupidest people ever and you loved that.

The argument eventually got physical and when you were coming back with a drink Johanna decided to stake her claim. "Mine!" Johanna cried jumping on your back and Finnick immediately jumped up. "Joahnna be careful...the baby!" Finnick called and everyone froze. Johanna shot away from like you were on fire and all the victors stared waiting for more. In response, you and Finnick looked at one another and then just burst out laughing.

"That was good babe" you called to Finnick and sank beside him. "I know" he smiled wrapping an arm around you and when you'd both stopped laughing you explained. "I'm not pregnant but you should see all your faces!". The group all groaned and Johanna hit you for lying. "Are you considering it though?" Peeta asked "starting a family?". You and Finnick looked at each other and shrugged "I'm not sure, babies were never something that appealed to me but then again I never thought I'd see the Mockingjay being a doting mother" you said nodding to Katniss who had little Prim in her arms. Katniss smiled "yeah me either, anything can change". Finnick nodded "exactly which is why we're not saying no definitely not but it's not on the top of our to-do list". You nodded leaning into his arm "I'm happy as we are right now, the dog and the beach are all I need....ow and Finnick of course" you said and they all laughed at your slip-up. "Afterthought huh? The man you love?" Finnick asked and you smiled because it felt nice to say you loved Finnick and really mean it. "The man I love" you repeated and you said it so sweetly Finnick couldn't even pretend to be mad at you.

"Do you want to be a father?" you asked Finnick as you lay in bed that night and he blinked thinking. "I don't know, I do quite like kids but I think after all we've been through I'd be terrified they were going to be reaped. That the Capitol would come back and punish us again". You nodded patting his arm "I think you'd be an amazing dad". Finnick looked at you in surprise "really?". You nodded "of course! Everyone loves you, you're kind, funny, beautiful...". "Stop it!" Finnick said pushing you and pretending to gush. "I can actually imagine you with a baby" you continued and Finnick paused. "I can see you sat with a little bundle on our porch, teaching them how to take their first steps on the sand, holding them in your arms in the ocean, reading them stories at night..." you said "I can picture it all". Finnick smiled and leaned over to you so he was hovering on top of you "well you know I can very easily make that a reality for you and I can make you enjoy every second of it". That of course sent shivers down your spine and you looked up at those beautiful blue eyes and wanted to just melt but you were a Mason, you were mischeaveous. "I think I might need some proof of that first, a taster if you will" you said and Finnick nodded "that is totally understandable, let me get to work".

Everyone left the next morning, after complaining about some weird noises echoing around the house in the middle of the night. You and Finnick made no apologies and saw everyone off with big smiles. As you watched hem go, all smiling, rested and happy you realised this would've been unthinkable just 6 years ago. If you went back in time and even tried to explain to your younger self just how good her future was going to be she would've laughed in your face and you wouldn't blame her! Your life with Finnick almost made everything you'd been through worth it and every day you were thankful you'd fought so hard to stay alive, just so you could be here. And the best news?

Your future with Finnick was only just getting started.

I only realised after I wrote this that Finnick and Y/n tried to ditch the group and then were the ones that got left behind lol.

Also, I'm a huge Percy Jackson fan and anytime Finnick used a trident or spear it made me imagine him as a son of Poseidon and I love that. Maybe I should headcanon the main characters as demigods or something...not long until the new TV show now and I AM SO EXCITED!

But back to Finnick. He's amazing and deserved so much better. So let's all just pretend he got to live on a beach with the love of his life yeah?

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luvangelbreak · 4 months

Text

Deprived | Four

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing (don't think there's anything else but lmk) word count: 3k a/n: my first time writing from matts pov and I'm nervy but hope y'all like it. also i know very little abt the seasons of hockey games at schools so if that's off, just ignore it lol.

pov: matt

I don't know why I ditched school with Layla. I never really left school unless I was sick or when Chris and Nick needed a ride home. I knew that I would be fine if I skipped a couple classes, my grades were good enough for me to miss a full month and I would still pass but I tried to stay above average.

As I drove us back to school, my mind wandered to when she put her earring on my lip. It made me realise how gentle she was, the way she grabbed my chin to turn my head and pulled my lip down to delicately place the ring on my lip made my mind fuzzy. She always seemed like she was tough and rough around the edges. The way she carried herself around school as if she didn't care about anyone or anything was a deep contrast to who she was in that moment of softness. I let my mind travel away as I parked in my usual spot at school, sliding my seatbelt off before I turned the car off.

I turned to face her, seeing her pick her bag up from the ground and going to open the door before I interrupted her movements, "Hey."

She turned to face me, letting go of the door handle as she looked at me expectantly, "What?"

"Do you wanna sit with me at lunch? I know you don't really go to the cafeteria but it's better than wandering around the school alone," I offered, praying in my head that she would agree.

"I don't think your friends will want me there," she mumbled, not making eye contact with me as she looked out at the school.

"Doesn't matter what they want. I want you to sit with us," I smiled at her, hoping it would convince her further. I knew my friends would be confused but I hoped I could convince them by showing them she was just like everyone else in the school and she wasn't some monster our peers had made her out to be.

"I don't know..." she trailed off, biting her lip which I picked up was a nervous habit. She had done it so many times in the short amount of time that I had been talking to her and I tried to not make it obvious that I was staring at her lips, coughing before sitting upright.

"Come on, it will be fine," I smiled once again before I jumped out of the car. I made sure my phone was in my pocket as I hopped out of the car, grabbed my backpack from the backseat and waited for her to close her door before I locked it.

We started walking into the school as she trailed behind me. She was mindlessly following me as she looked at her phone. I swung the door open, stepping aside to let her walk in before me. She sent me a half-hearted smile as a thank you making my chest swell with warmth.

I liked seeing her smile and knowing that I'd only seen her smile when she was around me made me proud in a way. I couldn't explain why but I felt myself pull towards her every time I saw her in the hallway. It had taken me a while to figure out if it was a good idea or not to talk to her, but I'd now decided that I was going to keep talking to her until she was sick of me.

I made my way to the cafeteria, noting that the clock on the wall read that lunch had already been happening for about 5 minutes. Her walking slowed and I turned to face her, slowing my pace to match hers.

"You don't have to stay for the whole lunch. Just come say hi to everyone at least," I offered her another smile and she chewed at her lip making me glance at them again, "Please."

"No need to grovel, pretty boy. I'll go," she rolled her eyes, her hard demeanour returning now that we were on school grounds. I smiled wider at the nickname she had given me and I was glad to know it stuck. After putting my backpack in my locker, we walked towards the cafeteria again.

We walked through the doors to the large cafeteria, eyes turning to look at the both of us. I ignored them as I walked through the tables, making a B-line to where my friends sat as Layla travelled behind me.

"Hey," I nodded to my brothers, sitting down beside Nick as they glanced over my shoulder at Layla making me turn towards her. I patted the seat beside me, letting her know she could sit down. She slowly sat down next to me and I could feel how tense she was by her body language, "Nick, Chris, Nate, Allie, this is Layla."

"Hi," Layla mumbled from beside me and I hoped that my friends could pull themselves together and at least pretend to be nice until they got to know her properly.

"Hey," Allie smiled at her politely as Nick and Nate both gave her a small wave. Chris nodded at her, his face showing his distaste for her being here making me run my tongue along my teeth. Chris looked at me and I made a face to tell him to be nice.

"What the fuck is on your lip?" Nick asked and I rang my tongue over the ring that was on my lip.

"It's fake. Just trying it out," I shrugged and Nick looked at me in confusion but I brushed it off.

"You getting any food?" Nate asked me and I shook my head as I watched him snack on the small tray of food he had in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" I heard a familiar voice speak and I looked to my right to see Mia staring down at Layla with confusion.

"Mia," I deadpanned and she glanced at me with a shrug of her shoulders, her cheerleading uniform riding up slightly as she did so.

"I'm just asking. She never even comes into the cafeteria and now she's sitting where I always sit," she stated in a bitchy tone making me frown at her.

"You can manage not sitting next to me for one day, Mia," I told her and she pursed her lips, a frown covering her face as she sat herself in between Layla and Allie.

"So why are you sitting here?" Mia asked Layla, her tone still bitchy as ever making me roll my eyes.

"Matt asked me to sit with you guys," Layla answered honestly, her tone not wavering in the slightest.

"Why?" Mia retorted as she opened the protein bar I didn't even notice she had.

"Because I wanted her to," I responded to Mia, my tone sharp to try and get her to stop. She was my biggest worry when I offered Layla to sit with us but I didn't realise she'd be so dramatic about it.

"Why didn't you get any food, Matty?" Mia asked me, now leaning over the table a little and completely ignoring Layla.

"I just ate," I answered honestly and I felt Layla's shoulder brush mine as she wriggled in her seat to get further away from Mia.

"What?" Nick asked now and I turned my head to face him.

I shrugged before replying, "We got McDonald's."

"And you didn't get anything for me?" Allie gasped dramatically making me smile at her as I shook my head.

"You skipped? For McDonald's with her?" my attention was brought back to Mia's bitter tone as she made a face of slight disgust.

"No I skipped because I wanted McDonald's and I asked her to come with me," I kept my tone flat to give her the hint that I was not impressed but she didn't seem to catch it.

"Why didn't you ask me?" Mia pouted and I shrugged, playing with the rings on my fingers.

"You were already in class," I told her and she rolled her eyes before I continued, "Besides, you never skip."

"What class do you have after this?" Allie asked Layla and I was thankful she diverted the conversation politely.

"Art and gym," Layla answered honestly and Allie's smile widened.

"You're in my gym class, right? Mr Rodes?" Allie asked and Layla nodded in response, "You should group up with me in class!"

"Uh, okay," Layla answered, confusion in her tone. I figured it was because she expected Allie to be a bitch, her cheerleading uniform and perfect red hair giving everyone the impression she was like Mia. Allie was one of the nicest people in school, she was down to talk to anybody and it's one of the reasons I was excited for Layla to sit with us.

"You always pair with me," Mia mumbled to Allie as she flipped her brown hair over her shoulder and Allie shrugged in response.

"You can go with Melissa? She always wants to go with you," Allie gave her a solution before digging back into her salad. Mia seemed more irritated than before and I hoped she would save it till Layla wasn't sitting with us. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"She's here for like two seconds and fucks everything up," Mia mumbled under her breath as she bit into her protein bar.

"If you're gonna shit talk me while I'm sitting right next to you at least say it with your chest, Mia," Layla deadpanned to Mia and she seemed taken aback as she just stared at the bleached blonde girl sitting next to me.

"You're gonna let her talk to me like that?" Mia asked as she glanced at me and I raised my eyebrows.

"He's not your father. You can stand up for yourself," Layla spoke clearly and I pursed my lips, resisting the urge to smile as Mia looked in shock. Almost no one pushed back with Mia, we all knew she would blow up and just make things worse than they needed to be. But I enjoyed seeing Layla stand up to her, it proved to me that she wasn't scared of anyone, she just didn't care to talk to them.

"This is bullshit," Mia huffed as she crossed her arms and Layla raised her eyebrows in response. I looked over at Chris who was hiding his smile behind his sandwich and Nick who coughed in order to cover his laugh.

"Right well, I'm gonna go. I'll see you in gym Allie," Layla picked up her bag and stepped over the bench as she adjusted her hoodie. I realised she left her leather jacket in my car but decided I wouldn't tell her yet so I had an excuse to see her later.

"Where are you going?" I asked as she turned back to face me. Instead of speaking, she made a motion with her hand like she was smoking an imaginary cigarette as she walked backwards slowly with her eyebrows raised. I smiled at her while shaking my head and I watched as she spun around, walking out of the doors of the cafeteria.

"What was that about?" Nick asked as I turned around to face the group who were now looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing as I ran my tongue over the ring on my lip, pursing my lips to hide my smile.

"You said you weren't gonna talk to her anymore," Chris deadpanned and I shrugged, grabbing Nick's water and taking a sip before he ripped it out of my hands.

"I changed my mind," I lied, knowing I never actually intended to stop talking to her in the first place.

"She's bad news. You shouldn't be hanging around her unless you wanna end up being a junkie," Mia mumbled and all joy from my face dropped as I turned to look at her with a glare.

"Mia, can you shut up for once?" I spat and she frowned, her mouth hanging open and Nate raised his eyebrows, his mouth in a downturned smile of surprise before he and Allie looked at each other briefly.

"You hang out with her for one day and you're already a dick. You just proved my point," Mia looked at me with a cocky smile and I rolled my eyes.

"You guys are so fucking annoying," I sighed, running a hand over my face as my mind flashed the moment she grabbed my lip to put the ring in my lip, "The only reason she was rude to you is because you were being a bitch about her sitting here and then not pairing up with Allie in gym. It's not that big of a deal."

"I mean... I've heard a lot of shit about her man," Nate piped up as he raised his eyebrows at me and I shook my head.

"Who cares? She's not this psycho everyone pretends she is," I defended her and Nate just shrugged, on the fence on whether or not he thought it was a good idea for me to be talking to her, "You guys just have to give her a chance."

"I don't have to do anything," Mia mumbled, her irritated tone making me grind my teeth together to keep my cool.

"If you wanna continue being my friend, Mia, you're gonna have to figure out why you're such a bitch to her," I huffed and Allie's eyes widened and before I could say anything further, the bell for our next class rang through my ears. I got up from the table without another word and made my way to my locker, playing with the ring on my lip that was quickly becoming a habit.

+++

My last two classes were spent trying to focus but instead, my brain wandered to Layla, hoping that Mia didn't scare her away from me. I leaned against the driver's side of my car, Nick and Chris talking about something as they walked over to me.

"Why aren't you in the car?" Chris asked, noting the fact that I usually waited for them in the driver's seat.

"Layla left her jacket. Gotta give it back to her," I told him honestly and he rolled his eyes as he jumped into the passenger seat. I was sure he was sick of me talking about her, I'd been building up the courage to talk to her for weeks and I constantly talked Chris's ear off about it. He always told me it was a bad idea and I, of course, never listened.

Nick slid in the back seat, shutting the door behind him and I felt the window behind me roll down. I turned around to see Chris holding her leather jacket out to me through the window and I gave him a small smile with a nod. He raised his eyebrows briefly as I took the jacket from him and he started rolling the window up.

"Just don't take forever. We gotta get our shit for training," Chris called out before the window was full rolled up. I turned back around as I hung the jacket over my left arm, pulling my phone out of my pocket to quickly check the time.

"I believe you have something of mine," Layla's voice rang through my ears and my head snapped up to see her standing in front of me, an amused look on her face. I stared at her for a moment, noticing that she was wearing her shorts from gym still and I could see a few more of her tattoos on her thighs before she spoke again, "You gonna give it to me or am I fighting you for it?"

"Oh right. My bad," I shook my head as I slipped my phone back into my pocket and handed her the jacket. I slid the ring off of my lip, wiping it with the hem of my shirt and I couldn't help but notice her eyes glance at the tattoos along my waist.

"Gonna miss that super cool lip ring," she said sarcastically as I chuckled, handing her the ring as her fingers brushed against mine. Her skin felt so much more soft than mine, it raised goosebumps along my arms.

"Give me another month and you won't have to miss it anymore," I smirked at her and I noticed her eyes lit up slightly as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"You're gonna get it?" she asked, her voice full of hope as she slid her bag off of her shoulder and slipped her jacket on before grabbing her bag again.

I shrugged, leaning back against the car again, "Probably. Under one condition."

"What?" she asked sceptically, her eyes squinting at me and I smiled.

"Come to my last three games this season," I stated and she tilted her head as she looked out into the parking lot in thought.

"I won't have a way to get there," she retorted and with a raise of my eyebrows, I pointed to the car behind me before pointing to myself, "I don't know what to wear to your games."

With a shrug, I said, "Just wear whatever you're comfortable in."

"What day are your games on?" she asked sceptically before she bit her lip and I tore my eyes away from her mouth and back up to her eyes.

"Fridays at five," I told her and she sighed, shaking her head.

"I don't know..." she trailed off and I bit my lip to hide my smile.

I sighed dramatically as I pushed off of the car, "Guess I won't be getting my lip pierced any time soon."

"Oh for fucks sake. Fine," she huffed and I smiled at her, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'll have to pick you up around four because we need to be there early to warm up but you can wait in the car if you don't wanna come inside," I explained and she nodded, goosebumps covering the skin on her legs from the cold air, "You need a ride home?"

"We don't have time for that. Hurry the fuck up!" Chris called from inside the car and I held up a middle finger behind me to flip him off.

"Nah, I'll be good," she gave me a half smile and I nodded as she started to walk backwards, "I'll see you when I'm looking at you."

With that she spun around and started walking out of the car park, leaving me with a triumphant smile on my face. I hopped in the car to see Nick and Chris staring at me with a judgemental look on their face.

"What?" I asked with a smile but they both stayed silent as I started the car, driving back to our house to grab mine and Chris's gear for training.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo

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julysn · 4 months

Text

random kyle headcanons

(these r my hcs + only one is nsfw)

ship: kyle broflovski x reader

general warnings: hi

other notes: this is such a mess

a/n: this is me using the hours of sp i binged during the summer to good use

FOR SOME FUCKING REASON I THREW IN UNWIND AU. AND GENSHIN AU SOMEONE HELP ME.. Me when i combine all of my fixations.

anyways if ur curious about those.. check their wikis

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ high school hcs ✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ .ᐟ

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he's the kid thats super smart and kinda quiet and no one wants to mess w him except cartman. sosososo helpful and kids are always asking him for help on assignments

✶ ࣪˖࿐ GOOD FIGHTER.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ his idea of rizz is helping his crush with picking up their books and helping them out with homework

✶ ࣪˖࿐ all the teachers adore him so he can get away with skipping class and using his phone whenever he feels like it. it’s actually kinda rare to see him on his phone in class or skipping but it’s mostly bc of the boys 🤷‍♂️

✶ ࣪˖࿐ basketball team captain + he’s one of the best players in the school.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ one time cartman made fun of kyle and said "tolkien shouldve been captain bc hes black and ur just a stupid jew" during basketball practice and kyle "accidentally" shot a ball at his face. he didn’t get in trouble bc the teachers were like “oh cartmans prob lying” LMAOO

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he would buy u girl scout cookies,. he would only buy ur favorites and make stan and kenny sneak them into ur backpack during passing period.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ when he has a crush on u.. you will somehow be brought up in conversations w his friends. whenever he’s changing in the boys locker room he always finds a way to mention you to stan and kenny. meanwhile cartmans like “who cares” but kyle will talk about u a LOt!

✶ ࣪˖࿐ when u got assigned to sit next to him, he’s always helping you out (bf material) (i love him)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ passes notes to u to make sure u understand the subject. they read like “hey, you understand what to do, right?” or “you know what we’re learning about, right?”

✶ ࣪˖࿐ 100% mews during class. thats why hes so quiet. he doesn’t put his hand up for questions bc hes mewing!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ ur husband + baby daddy hcs ✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ .ᐟ

sorry amab fans.. HERES A UTERUS (and tits) LMAO

✶ ࣪˖࿐ whenever the baby wakes u up in the middle of the night hes like "no. GO BACK TO SLEEp" and goes to comfort the baby for twenty minutes while u drift off

✶ ࣪˖࿐ HES SUCH A GOOD DAD UGH

✶ ࣪˖࿐ sometimes he wants more kids bc of how sweet u are. like he’ll see you playing with the kids and his mind will wander off to how it’d be if you were pregnant again

✶ ࣪˖࿐ you were insecure about your breasts getting bigger and heavier and he reassured u and said he would love u no matter what (even if u were a worm aahhaahhha..)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ “sweetheart do you want me to pick up the kids from school? i’ll buy us food”

✶ ࣪˖࿐ SO DAMN SWEET

✶ ࣪˖࿐ ur kids are now 12 and 13 years old. and one day kyle got kenny to babysit them. lets just say when u came home they were saying not very pg things LMAOO

✶ ࣪˖࿐ whenever he helps the kids with their homework he pulls out his reading glasses and they’re low on his nose and you find it SO cute.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he wakes up before u because his shift starts earlier, and whenever u wake up there’s always a hot shot of espresso waiting for u

✶ ࣪˖࿐ typa dad to be chill and lenient but whenever hes mad at the kids… dear lord !

✶ ࣪˖࿐ whenever ur stressed from the kids or work, he always prepares a relaxing and hot bath for you. and he goes all out. dimmed lights, lit candles, rose petals everywhere, a perfect bubble bath with your favorite scents. you can tell he’s obsessed + in love and hes not afraid to show it

✶ ࣪˖࿐ affectionate and sweet. he will do anything for u. he cooks dinner for u. he makes coffee in the morning for u. he takes the kids out so u can have a break. you’re his one and only

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ genshin au hcs ✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ .ᐟ

✶ ࣪˖࿐ either dendro or geo vision. i dunno

✶ ࣪˖࿐ polearm or sword user 😜

✶ ࣪˖࿐ I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD BE FROM FONTAINE OR SNEZHNAYA IDK THO

✶ ࣪˖࿐ would either hate the fatui or b one of the harbingers

✶ ࣪˖࿐ are we seeing the vision guys

✶ ࣪˖࿐ got put into the slammer/fortress of meropide and didn't know how to use credit coupons so he accidentally gave all of them to someone (and was really mad after he found out what credit coupons were)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ you’re a receptionist at the fortress. and when u first met kyle he tried flirting w u (his rizz was absolutely horrible AT THE Start) and u were like “stop. stop holding up the line mr. broflovski” and he said “of course not, mrs broflovski” and shot u a cheeky wink (hes using his redhead jewish rizz)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ unwind au hcs ✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ .ᐟ

this is a mess. i'm sorry.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he 100% tried to pull the akron awol/connor lassiter shooting a juvey-cop with his own tranq gun move. (it probably worked)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ omg. scenario where you guys find out u both are getting unwound so u both kick awol and go to a safe house and he acts slightly possessive and jealous of u because he doesn’t wanna lose u 💘💘

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he would ABSOLUTELY hate hayden when they first meet. but they would be friends later on. this is canon bc i said so and i am always 100% true (not clickbait)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ you guys def met at the graveyard and he was head over heels for u. like head flew away from yo heels. he saw u in the crowd when the admiral was giving his speech and kyle went BRIGHT RED

✶ ࣪˖࿐ the both of u are at the graveyard. and ur a medic. and kyle purposely gets bruises or tiny, practically painless cuts so he can visit and be like "hi y/n 😓😣 can u take care of me it hurts" BOY ITS JUST A LITTLE CUT! but u care about him so u do it anyway. he’s always blushing a little whenever you take care of him and u always shoot him glares which he finds to be super endearing

✶ ࣪˖࿐ les by childish gambino plays in ur head as the two of u meet in a harvest camp bathroom and he says "i love u." and then kisses u deeply. and then he says "if we get unwound i hope our parts end up on the same body" and u shed a tear

✶ ࣪˖࿐ THIS IS SORTA ANGSTY. OKAY. kyle gets unwound and while the procedure is happening all he can think about is u. like he’s sad he didn’t get to confess to you before they took him away and he wishes he told u how much u mean to him before he was dragged away to a harvest camp

✶ ࣪˖࿐ nsfw: when y’all were at the graveyard, u guys had sex in one of the jets while it was empty. best decision of ur life

✶ ࣪˖࿐ OMG TITHE KYLE. TITHE KYLE. HES A TITHE hear me out guys hear me out,..

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he would be the #1 radio free hayden fan (canon) (real) (i said so) (guys its real)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ him stan and kenny escaped a harvest camp and beat up the guards that chased them and they became literal legends

✶ ࣪˖࿐ harvest camp. and every time he sees u he gives u a kiss on the cheek when the staff aren’t looking.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he wants to be affectionate w u SO BAD whenever u guys are at a harvest camp he can’t stop sneaking glances at you. and whenever he hears ur name get mentioned he immediately starts eavesdropping

✶ ࣪˖࿐ OMG OLAY I GOT ONE you guys met in sonia’s basement and it got cold at night so he let you sleep in his arms for warmth. and it was so cute. like you sat next to him and it was cold so you guys hugged and fell asleep (the other kids were jealous)

#julysn #julia's headcanons ✶𓏲ּ꩜ .ᐟ #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #south park #south park x reader #headcanon #my headcanons #hcs #my hcs #south park headcanons #kyle broflovski headcanons #kyle headcanons #south park hcs #headcanons #alternate universe #sp x unwind sounds SOOO good

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