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#sorry to anyone who read these tags i am having a moment
runninriot · 2 days
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inspired by the song Solitude by Black Sabbath, written for @steddiesongfics june song fics
Memories I Have Remind Me Of You
wc: 1999 | rated: T | tags: modern au, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, marriage proposal, dealing with heartbreak and regrets, Steve needs a little push from a stranger to make it right, sad but with a happy ending
The girl is nice. She’s pretty. Big eyes, plush lips, a kind smile, dimples.
Fucking dimples.
Her hair’s long and curly, doesn’t remind Steve of anyone in particular.
It doesn’t.
He does not think about someone else when the warm colour of her brown irises makes him remember.
Steve tries to listen when she talks, tries to laugh when she giggles sweetly, tries not to jerk away when she brushes his hand in a flirty manner but it’s hard to focus when his mind isn’t where it should be.
Did she just ask him a question?
   “You didn’t even listen, huh?”
Steve shakes his head, looks back up at her, tries for an apologetic smile but to his confusion, she doesn’t even seem mad at him for not paying attention.
No, it’s worse.
She’s got that empathic, knowing look in her eyes. Like she can see right through him.
    You’re so easy to read, baby.
He was never good at pretending.
   “I’m not boring you, am I.”
It’s not really a question. The girl knows she’s a good catch, knows she isn’t the problem – Steve is.
   “No, uh. Sorry, I-“
Who is he even trying to fool? No excuse he’s trying to come up with would be good enough because if he looks how he feels, it must be written all over his face. No way to hide the obvious.
I can see it in your eyes, baby. Your eyes always tell the truth.
Steve should’ve known it was a bad idea the moment he saw her picture, noticed the similarities. She instantly reminded him of-
He shouldn’t have agreed to this date.
Not because he doesn’t like her, no. She’s perfect, really. Or she would be.
They matched on a dating app, texted a bit back an forth. She was fun to talk to, made him laugh. And when she asked him if he wanted to meet, he thought that maybe it would help. That maybe this was his sign to finally get his ass back out there. He’d been holed up at home for too long. Sulking, sad, depressed.
Life just hasn’t been the same ever since.
His favourite meal has lost its taste. His favourite songs all sound off-key. Going to his favourite bar just seems like a waste of time - Steve’s life has lost its light, making everything seem dark and grey and dull.
Nothing is right anymore because everything reminds him of Eddie.
And Steve himself is the one to blame for his misery.
   “I-“ Steve hesitates. He doesn’t want to bother her with his mess, didn’t come here to whine about things he can’t change. She didn’t come here to listen to him talk about his goddamn ex for fuck’s sake!
   “What’s wrong?” she asks and Steve knows there’s no point in trying to pretend that everything’s fine when nothing ever is. Not anymore.
   “I’m sorry for being such bad company,” Steve apologises and means it. She deserves better, could’ve gone on a date with someone worth spending her time with.
Someone actually interested in... something. Anything. Whatever it is she’s looking for.
Steve’s not it, that much is clear.
He’s not ready to move on. Maybe he never will be. Because what he had was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed to be happy. Life was good, perfect, before he ruined it all. Let the love of his life slip away because he was too afraid of the what ifs. So he pushed and he fought and he hurt the one that would’ve given him everything.
Now, Steve is just an empty shell of the man he used to be. Because the day Eddie left, he took Steve’s heart and soul with him, left him empty and broken and sad.
So fucking sad.
   “You remind me of my ex.” The words are out before he can swallow them back down.
   “Oh,” she answers, expression neutral. “Bad break-up?”
Steve nods. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to think about the day his whole life fell apart but-
   “It was my fault. He left me because I fucked it up.”
The truth still hurts, even after all those months.
   “What did you do?”
Steve and Eddie had met through a mutual friend, Dustin. It wasn’t quite love at first sight but close to it.
They quickly became friends, started hanging out on weekends, then, soon, even during the week. Spending the evenings after work at each other’s places, cooking dinner together, watching movies, talking.
Steve had never felt so drawn to another person, had never felt so comfortable in someone else’s presence. Eddie was... he was funny, kind, loud and wild. He had all these big dreams about what he wanted to do with his life. Dreams that were so very different from the small-town life Steve had always resigned himself to. Eddie wanted to travel the country, sleep under the stars, wake up next to a lake, follow the wind to wherever it would take him.
He wanted to be free.
But he stayed.
Eddie stayed because when they shared their first kiss in a weak moment of alcohol-fuelled recklessness, they ignited a fire that became too big too fast, making it impossible to smother the flames before they turned into burning desire that took a hold of them both. Scorching its way into their hearts where it settled, warm and bright, making light in every dark corner of their being.
It was the second first kiss that sealed their fate – a sober, slow, and tentative kiss in the low light of the morning sun that wiped away any worries and doubts Steve had when he woke up in Eddie’s arms after a night spent giving into their unspoken feelings as they took each other apart, not thinking about the consequences.
Knowing what it was like to wake up next to each other made it impossible to go back to simply being friends, to stay apart, to not fall in love.
Eddie and Steve were meant to be.
Together, everything felt right.
Eddie willingly put his own dreams aside for Steve who knew he could never repay him for the sacrifices he made just to be with him, tried to thank him every day by showing and telling him how much he loved him. And things were good, perfect.
Until-
   “I don’t understand,” she says quietly when Steve takes a moment to breathe away the ache in his heart and the tears threatening to spill, “that sounds like a dream come true. What happened?”
Steve smiles sadly, sighs.
   “Yeah, felt like a dream, too. But the thing with dreams is that no matter how beautiful they are, inevitably you will wake up.”
And a beautiful dream it was. Life was full of love and laughter and happy moments spent together, until Eddie proposed and Steve said No and the world tumbled down.
Because it was in that moment – with Eddie down on one knee, the simple gold ring Steve knew had belonged to Eddie’s uncle held between his thumb and finger as an offer, a promise to be his forever – that Steve realised he couldn’t do this to him. He couldn’t marry Eddie and keep him trapped in a life he never wanted just because Steve was too scared of giving up the safety of his home for a life on the road with no destination ahead and an unforeseeable future.
Steve said no to set him free but even then Eddie kept fighting for him, fucking apologised for putting ‘so much pressure’ on Steve with his question which- was insane because Eddie had done nothing wrong, ever. He had never been anything but wonderful and considerate and perfect. Steve had been the one not willing to compromise, who inadvertently put Eddie in a cage of his own making.
So he pushed and he fought and he hurt Eddie in order to give him back his freedom, thinking, believing he was doing the right thing. It was only when Eddie packed his bags and left that Steve realised he had made the biggest mistake of his life.
The moment Eddie walked out the door without looking back, Steve knew he had lost everything.
 
   “Where is he now?”
   “Hm?”
   “Eddie. Where did he go?”
   “I, uh...” Steve shouldn’t know the answer to this but he does. Because Dustin told him. Tells him whenever he gets a call or another letter from Eddie, ignoring the fact that it tears Steve apart every time. Or maybe he does it on purpose, punishing Steve for hurting his friend. And Steve lets him, never complains, always holds back his tears until he’s back in his fortress of solitude, where he can drown in his pain and sorrow.
He deserves to suffer for what he did.
   “He’s in Michigan.”
   “Huh.” She cocks her head, smiles. “It’s been what, 5 months you said? Pretty sure he could’ve gotten a lot further by now.”
   “What do you mean?”
   “For someone who’s always wanted to travel the whole damn country, he didn’t make it that far.”
   “Eddie never made plans on where he wanted to go. Maybe he found a nice place to stay for a while before he lets his heart take him somewhere else.”
   “Staying conveniently close for no reason whatsoever. Got it,” she scoffs.
Steve looks at her with pleading eyes, needs her to stop giving him ideas, can’t allow himself to let hope bloom.
   “He’s free to go wherever he wants.”
   “Maybe what Eddie really wants is for you to tell him to come home.”
Her words hit him hard like a slap across the face, ringing loudly in his ears.
   “What if- What if he doesn’t?”
   “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
 -------
   “You left me.”
It’s not meant as an accusation, sounds like one though. And Steve can see in the way Eddie furrows his brows and tightens his lips, that it wasn’t the right thing to say.
   “You told me to.” Eddie’s answer is short but calm, not filled with anger like Steve expected.
   “I wanted you to stay!”
He knows it isn’t fair because Steve did tell him to leave. What right does he have to want him back, to ask for forgiveness?
   “I didn’t want you to leave but I was scared that you’d wake up one day and realise that being with me isn’t enough. That being in love isn’t worth giving up your dreams. You shouldn’t have to give up your dreams for me! I should’ve gone with you. I love you. I-”
Steve is crying, can’t stop shaking. He’s so angry at himself, feels so powerless and stupid. And Eddie just stands there and stares at him confused like he doesn’t know that Steve would do everything for a second chance.
Just when Steve is about to give up, turns to go because if he stays here any longer, he’ll fall to his knees and make an even bigger fool of himself than he already has, two strong arms wrap around him from behind, keeping him from walking away.
   “Don’t go,” Eddie whispers into his hair, tightens his grip to emphasise his words. “Stay.”
It’s what Steve should’ve said all those months ago, when he said the opposite instead.
Slowly, Steve turns within the arms holding him until he’s facing Eddie again. Eddie, who is so close now, Steve could bring their lips together by only moving in another inch or two. Could kiss away the tears running down Eddie’s cheeks.
   “I can’t live without you, Eddie.”
   “Then let me be with you.”
Their third first kiss is an angry one, rough and desperate. Full of regrets they swallow from each other’s lips, drinking them up to make them go away. To make it better. To make it right.
   “Marry me, Steve.”
The answer comes easy this time - one word, a promise.
Forever, never apart, wherever it'll take them.
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decepti-thots · 23 hours
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here is an ask that is a free excuse to talk about any disco elysium prowldome thoughts you have because i am FASCINATED by it in the abstract but having a hard time nailing it down
so your original tags on the post this relates to specified that CD is Kim (and therefore, Prowl is Harry) and that is what actually made me really interested. because not making the self-destructive amnesiac character CD (who in canon is... that in a different way) was SO interesting to me. i will cut this both for potential DE spoilers and also so people can choose whether or not to read my overlong ramblings. lmao.
so the thing about DE as a text is that it's doing a really specific thing gameplay wise, derived from the biggest inspiration it has mechanically, which is the game Planescape Torment. specifically it is doing this thing where the idea of the amnesiac protagonist as a 'clean slate' is troubled by constant catastrophic interaction with NPCs that knew your player character before they lost their memory, so while you as the player are roleplaying as them as vessels to project yourself onto because of their diagetic memory loss, you are constantly having that fantasy of 'starting over fresh' and total control over them as an agent undermined by the reality that other people remember them, and their influence on this fictional world pre-dates your own.
i think that's SUCH a fascinating lens through which to look at what Prowl does as a character; his constant attempts at- and more to the point failure at- reinvention, because the thing that constantly gets in his way is always... himself. his own past actions catching up to him and his inability to handle that. right? so he's an incredibly interesting kind of archetype to put into this story just because the thing that always undermines him is his inability to get away from his impact on other people. he can change how he feels or who he is, but he can't change what he's done. this is a really great character to put into a narrative role like Harry in DE.
the thing is that Chromedome is not Kim, because the entire point of Kim is to give you someone to make that new first impression on. right? Kim is the character from out of town who knows of you by reputation but has no pre-existing relationship to you as an actual person. who you decide to play Harry as in the moment becomes who Kim knows you to be.
if Chromedome is anyone, surely he's. you know. Harry's ex he keeps alienating by calling her and freaking her out begging her to come back because he thinks they're inevitable and he refuses to tolerate life without her. he's Dora, at least very loosely. (well. he could be Jean, i guess. but like. I do not give a fuck about Jean. sorry.)
so i was thinking this over and like... a DE version of these two where the twist is that you think Chromedome is Kim and this is how these two meet on a case and become (professional) partners, and in reality he's been lying since realising that Prowl has no memory and he is, in fact, the ex that Prowl's limbic system keeps dropping hints he's really fucked up over (and who he has lingering repressed guilt over the knowledge he did in some way fuck over)... i think that's how i see this working tbh. it's fascinating to imagine how Chromedome would like. respond to that. and what his motivations are- both what they start off as and where they end up depending on how things go, and what an amnesiac Prowl decides to do and how he chooses to conduct himself.
there are a lot of things that i think are completely inextricable from DE even in the context of vague wonderings about silly hypothetical fandom AUs. first off, DE is about politics, and the kind of person Harry becomes in the face of his amnesia is tied extremely closely to that. fandom tends to gloss over the fact that a ton of Prowl's negative development in exRiD specifically is also linked to that comic making some points about politics, i feel; it's not that they're subtle or anything lmao, fandom just tends to focus on characters in a very individualist sense that doesn't always line up with what that comic is using them for. Prowl is someone who refuses to relinquish wartime power (and the abuses thereof) in the aftermath of a (from his perspective, still ongoing) conflict. and he is the guy, in DE, who would have been intellectually sympathetic towards the revolution, but he'd also have been working to put it down. (also, this is clearly different from Harry, who grew up in the aftermath of its failure, the generation dealing with an after that was traumatic.) and so much of Prowl's moves towards that tight grip on authoritarian power in exRiD comes from a contextually developed fear- both for himself (if he relinquishes his sunk cost fallacy there are a lot of things he did that were not justified) and for the society he imagines is under constant risk of falling into chaos if he does not. but what does he believe when he doesn't remember all the things that brought him to that point? i mean, the prowl we saw in Shadowplay thinks very differently than the one we see in the present. and specifically Roberts writes Prowl as someone whose initial drive was to try and escape the war and its conflicts altogether. so your angle there is very in line with what DE does with Harry and his amnesia, I think.
Chromedome meanwhile... i think the idea of a post-war Chromedome who has survived his own attempts at self-destruction and come to loathe Prowl playing this role of silent, judgemental observer of Prowl with this ostensible opportunity to change, who lies about not knowing Prowl as a kind of mirror to the way Chromedome has erased other relationships in his life to avoid confronting the pain of them... is really interesting, honestly. (there are versions of this where he is married to Rewind and there are versions of this where Rewind is at least temporarily still dead, and i like both tbh.) does Chromedome want Prowl to be able to genuinely change through this? perhaps the cracks in his story start showing when unlike Kim, he responds with increasing frustration at Prowl actually doing so, a thing it doesn't make sense for him to be bitter about if he's really a stranger. meanwhile Prowl is clearly and immediately latching onto Chromedome as someone he has decided he admires, and declares trust in. (harry idealizes kim a lot; the vision he has of dora, too, calls him out on literally deifying her; and we see in idw canon that for all his irritation with Chromedome now he casually asserts ludicrous stuff like 'you're literally too fantastic at your job for it to kill you' and so on.) had Chromedome comfortably convinced himself that was all bullshit and Prowl has no actual remaining feelings towards him, that it was all just to get Chromedome to do useful shit for him when he snapped his fingers? does seeing evidence to the contrary- that Prowl's feelings continue to be, annoyingly, real and genuine- destabilize him?
god there's a TON more i want to think about here. obviously there are a lot of things DE explores that bringing into this complicates as well. DE talks about suicidality and addiction extensively, obviously, for starters. (which are probably themes most people would automatically project onto Chromedome, which makes this specific configuration really interesting, i think.) the inevitable futility of trying to be an individual who is 'one of the good ones' in a system where that doesn't matter and will never allow you to be. you could probably tie that in with functionism if you wanted, and Prowl's seeming baseline agreement with at least some parts of that system on some level despite it clearly not benefiting him overmuch. right? there's a lot of potential room to engage directly with not just the basic plot setup of DE but its actual themes i think, which sort of surprised me to realise. (and is why it kept bopping around in my head, because that's really the only way i would be interested in a fusion AU kind of thing modelling itself on Elysium; i'm not here for the trope-y setup, i'm here for what DE actually does thematically and the crunchier topics it commits to exploring.)
anyway. please consider. you know that skill check you can get in the last dream with Dora? the one you can 'succeed' and it's really, really bad to do so, actually? yeah. please consider that skill check in this context. ahahaha. I SURE AM
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hwichanis · 2 years
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Zuho ✦ Scream Ending Fairy
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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 11 months
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it does something incomprehensible to my little writer’s soul whenever alex articulates a phenomenon of the writing process i’ve always picked up on and then goes on to describe it in exactly the same way
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roseghoul26 · 2 months
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader
Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry. 
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You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life. 
Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are. 
Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage. 
The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you. 
You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him. 
You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.
It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be. 
It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important. 
He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was. 
How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this. 
You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.
You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards. 
You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.
You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice. 
Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey. 
You almost wished it had torn you apart then. 
Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 
Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion. 
The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in. 
Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.
The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close. 
The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight. 
The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.
However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it. 
Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth. 
If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought. 
Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck. 
Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?” 
You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.
The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.
Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name. 
With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty. 
The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too. 
So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”
You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.
“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”
Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened. 
Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes. 
“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone. 
You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.
“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”
He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.
“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”
He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”
It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out. 
The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.
Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.
Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue. 
“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words. 
You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”
One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark. 
You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”
Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.
“Can-”
“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.
Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred. 
You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame. 
“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.” 
His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”
“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips. 
“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched. 
But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.
“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.
“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death. 
“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.
“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features. 
“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered. 
You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.
If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body. 
You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside. 
As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.” 
When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately. 
He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”
You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again. 
“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.”  Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this. 
You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself. 
Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand. 
“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours. 
It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something. 
But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.
“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like. 
He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you. 
He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified. 
You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it. 
“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.
His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it. 
He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it. 
You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”
Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs. 
Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you. 
As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret. 
Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.
You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”
This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.
With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again. 
“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.
It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.
Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair. 
When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. 
You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.
Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat. 
“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.
You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing. 
Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”
Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans. 
He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.
They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat. 
He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 
Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own. 
So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring. 
“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it. 
You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”
His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles. 
Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.
With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit. 
You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.
 “You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him. 
You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.
He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke. 
You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.
With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.
When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer. 
He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now. 
“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck. 
It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.
A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body. 
He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.
Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.
He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 
“You,” you gasped out.
“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.
Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction. 
He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.
“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.
Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.
Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist. 
You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand. 
His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny. 
With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.
It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin. 
He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back. 
Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry. 
The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.
Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.
It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.
“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier. 
Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.
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buckybarnesb-tch · 7 months
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Why am i ready for stalker aemond that has slow burn and is super angsty? like someone who isnt afraid of his scar in preschool then moves away but he found her in either social media or a sports meet and started stalking from then on and then he goes to the same college and remembers her schedule, which dorm shes in and trying to get in her room at night or is in the dorm across from her and ugh i could start a fic tbh
Never Ending Obsession -Aemond T.
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If you do start a Fic, 100% tag me in that sh*t! I would LOVE to read it, but because you sent it to me imma give it a go for you cause it sounds delicious! I hope it is everything you want it to be!
Yandere!Aemond. Major Stalking! You’ve Been Warned!
DD:DNE
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Aemond considered Y/n to be a miracle from the day he met her.
It was the first day of Pre-School and he wanted to be anywhere but there, surrounded by other students. He wanted to be at home with his mother, or even his big brother, anyone just to get away from the staring children.
Aemond had learned almost as soon as his cousin had sliced his face open that while adults would stare, they would at least be discreet about it, children were not. Aemond, while being a child, didn’t consider himself one, and it was something most adults found amusing as he would much rather spend time with his mother or the adults in his family than with his siblings or cousins. He would rather read than play with toys, rather watch movies his mother liked than ones his siblings enjoyed, it’s just the way Aemond had always been…until her.
All of the children stared at him from the moment he walked in and said “goodbye” to his mother. The staff tried to direct the children away, told them it was rude to stare, but they weren’t always paying attention and trying to get a bunch of 4 year olds attention when they’re locked onto something is…difficult at best. Around lunch time the staff had left all but one in the room to prepare food for the kids and suddenly Aemond found a boy much larger than him to be holding his eyepatch in his hand, the children around him laughing and teasing immediately. The teacher was on the other side of the room and oblivious as Aemond tried to grab his eyepatch back, the other boy shoving him to the ground before he was suddenly laying right beside Aemond holding his crotch and wailing in pain. A blonde girl that Aemond could only describe as beautiful was standing above him with an angry look on her face.
‘What did he ever do to you?! Huh?! Leave Him Alone!’ She snatched the eyepatch from the portly child’s hand and moved to hand it back to Aemond who strapped it back on immediately. ‘Are you okay?’ Aemond nodded quickly, opening his mouth to speak but finding no words that would come out. ‘I’m Y/n, you’re Aemond, right?’ He nodded again, mouth hanging open dumbly and looking like an idiot he is sure. ‘I’m sorry he did that, No one should be mean like that for something you can’t help and you don’t have to tell no one nothing…I’m sorry, you want to be alone.’ She turned to walk away when he finally got his voice box to work…sadly it had been muted so long that the sound he finally made was a bit too loud.
‘NO!’ He exclaimed and she jumped, turning back to him instantly. ‘I’m sorry…I mean, no, I don’t want to be alone…it’s nice to meet you Y/n…do you want to sit with me for lunch?’ She smiled, a red tint to her cheeks and Aemond decided he absolutely adored her pretty smile.
‘Yeah…that sounds fun.’ She grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him over to a table, handing him a place mat and some crayons to decorate it with. Coloring was never something Aemond had really enjoyed, Art wasn’t his thing, but if Y/n enjoyed it then so did he.
Aemond and Y/n spent the rest of the day together before pick-up and as soon as he said “good-bye”, leaving with his mothers driver and climbed into the car beside his mom, he was talking about her. Alicent was thrilled that her son had made a friend his own age, while it’s entertaining to see her 4 year old boy so grown-up and mature, she didn’t want him to miss out on being a child just because he didn’t have any friends.
At the end of the week, after learning that Aemond and Y/n’s friendship wasn’t going anywhere, Alicent stood outside to pick her son up rather than wait in the car for their driver to get him. She watched her son run outside, hand in hand with a girl a bit shorter than him and they looked truly adorable. ‘Mom!’ Her son exclaimed, excited to see her waiting for him herself and deciding she should do this more often to see that smile so rare on her baby’s face.
‘Hello, my sweet Little Dragon! How was your day?’ She asked, watching the girl run to a women a few feet away and take her hand.
‘It was so good! Y/n and I made pictures of our families for the wall-wait! You need to meet her! Y/n!’ Aemond exclaimed, the girl stopping and her mother looking back as well, slightly irritated. ‘Mom, this is Y/n, she’s my best friend!’ He grinned and so did Y/n who hugged him at that deceleration.
‘Well, if she’s your best friend then you must have her over for a play date. Would that be alright?’ She asked the girls mom.
‘Oh, yes, of course. Anytime.’ She spoke, writing down her number on a piece of paper. ‘I’m Marie, it’s nice to meet you, Y/n talks about your boy all the time.’
‘Mom!’ The girl whined, the mothers sharing a side smile at their kids evident first crush on each other.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Alicent. How about tomorrow? She can come by and spend the day with us, I’ll drop her at home after dinner?’ Her mom looked surprised.
‘That’s perfect actually, I have work all day. Text me your address and what time to drop her off, she will love spending the day with Aemond rather than the neighbor. I’m sorry to say I’m in a rush to get back to work, it was nice meeting you Alicent, and you too Aemond. Come on Y/n, let go.’
‘Bye Aemond!’ Y/n waved, her mother dragging her off. She didn’t strike Alicent as rude, just in a bit of a hurry. You could clearly see the difference in their status in life, if not just from the fact that Y/n’s mother was wearing a waitress uniform and Alicent was wearing a Versace dress and Gucci shoes. She finds herself wondering how the women pays for the fancy daycare at all.
Alicent had married rich, Viserys happy to give her anything she wants as long as she doesn’t bother him at work, and he’s always at work. When he’s not however he is spending time with his daughter from his first marriage, Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra is 24 now, Viserys being significantly older than Alicent but she didn’t mind, he was a good, gentle man and that was hard to come by now a days. She had 2 sons, Jace who was 5 and Luke who was 3 (a child she detested for being the one who had sliced her baby’s face open 6 months before as he ran around the mansion with an old dagger from Viserys’ office and didn’t pay attention to her son sitting on the ground), though Rhaenyra was also pregnant with another child, none of which are her husbands clearly but that’s not her business… Alicent has 3 children of her own, Aegon who was 7, Helaena who was 5 and Aemond who had just turned 4, though she also suspected she was carrying a child that she hoped was a girl if not just to keep another boy from the chaos and bullying that goes on between the siblings and cousins.
‘Y/n is gonna spend the whole day with me?!’ Aemond suddenly exclaimed, knocking his mother from her thoughts.
‘Yes, she is. You’ll need to plan what you two want to do for the day and I’ll make sure Aegon doesn’t disturb you.’
‘Jace and Luke either?’ He asked…begged is more like.
‘Jace and Luke either, I’ll make sure they have something to do when they come tomorrow.’ The family always came to the house on the weekends as Viserys took that time for his family…part of it anyway.
‘Yay! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!’ Alicent was thrilled to see her son so happy…she had no idea it would be so incredibly short lived.
Y/n had begun spending the day with Aemond every day, coming to their house in their car after school, her mother coming to get her after work to take her home looking more tired than the night before. Alicent had tried to help the poor women. It turns out her husband had cheated on her while she was pregnant and gotten another women pregnant, divorcing her for his mistress and son. He’s the one who paid for the fancy preschool while her mother worked 3 jobs to keep everything afloat in their one bedroom apartment, since he paid for such a nice school he only paid 200 in child support leaving Marie with everything else and all the debt he had left behind in her name.
Alicent was happy to watch Y/n whenever she needed, it made her son happy and that’s all she wanted in the world. She had been so scared for him before he met Y/n that he would end up going down a dark path, the bullying at home and at school having been hard for him as well as his father clearly loving the child who had butchered him more than his own son.
That all came to a grinding halt however when Y/n’s mom was evicted from her apartment leaving them homeless, forcing them to move in with Marie’s ex-mother in-law who lived in New York. Aemond had tried to promise to visit every weekend before Alicent was forced to explain just how far away New York was from California, to say the children were upset was a huge understatement. The teary good-bye nearly broke the mothers hearts as they swore to write to each other every day, and they did, they both learned to write faster than any of the kids their age just to write to each other and it lasted about a year. Y/n’s grandmother had found out she was writing to a boy in California and cut it off, threatening to take Y/n away from her mother if her mother didn’t stop the interaction. Marie wrote Alicent and explained what had happened leaving her to break her baby’s heart all over again.
Aemond became cold after that. He had no more friends, detested his cousins, tolerated his brothers and only loved Helaena though she was with friends everyday of her life. He took his schooling very seriously, taking several extra curricular’s on the side to take up his time which consisted of Jiu-Jitsu, Tae Kwon Do, and oddly enough, sword fighting which Alicent didn’t support right away until he promised to start with fencing. It turned out that he was really good at it and his father hired a trainer, Criston Cole, to teach him sword fighting, paying to transform a room in the mansion into a training room.
Once Aemond got to middle school, no one was bullying him anymore after breaking 3 kids noses and 2 of their arms. When he turned 14 and moved up to high school he had finally broken down and created an Instagram account. Aemond hated social media, he found it annoying and pointless, but he quickly found a use for it once he looked up Y/n and found her account. It wasn’t private, making it easy to look through all of her pictures, finding out that she still lived in New York with just her Grandmother now as her mother had passed away in a hit and run with a drunk driver when she was 9. She had many pictures with her and another girl who seemed to be her best and only friend and nowhere could Aemond find anything about a boyfriend which gave him an instant sense of relief. He had spent the last almost 10 years obsessing over her, though he kept it to himself. He had sent her a letter a few years before, hoping that maybe now that they had grown a bit she would be able to write him back but it was returned unopened with a note that told him to never send anything again or her grandmother would file a restraining order.
For the next 2 years he was as content as he could be watching her life through social media, until their junior year that is when he decided to pay a man to hack into her computer, actually watching what he did and figuring out how to go about doing it himself. He read all of her emails from then on, finding out what colleges she was applying to and applying himself, knowing he would obviously get in with his incredible grades and extra curricular’s. Her grandmother was forcing her to go to college, wanting her to be a physical therapist despite the fact that she wanted to be an artist. Aemond had found she had a separate, secret Instagram account that her grandmother didn’t know about that held all of her paintings and sketches, and she was honestly incredible.
Aemond had decided that when she was his she would drop out of college and move in with him, she would have her own little art studio to do whatever she wanted in. He would buy her anything she wanted, give her everything in the world if she only asked for it, Y/n Y/L/n was going to be his wife…whether she knew it yet or not.
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At 18, Aemond moved out to New York for the year, deciding not to go to college but convincing his father to open a branch of his publishing business out there and let him set everything up for him. It wouldn’t be hard, honestly Aemond would pay others to do everything and just oversee the company while he watched over his Princess. He had already been stalking her online for over 4 years and in her own computer for 2, this was hardly a step up.
Alicent knew of course, she knew that her son had become more than a little obsessed with his childhood friend and she knew that that’s why her boy was going to New York, she had been the one to talk her husband into letting him go. She wanted him to be happy, by any means necessary after all this time of misery and if he needed Y/n to make that happen then she was more than happy to welcome the sweet girl into the family. Even if she knew what her son was doing was wrong, she couldn’t change his mind, and she didn’t want to. Alicent loved Y/n and she knew that if there was one person in the world that her son would never hurt, it was her.
He watched from across the Quad as she arrived at the school, unpacking her things from the car and moving it all into her dorm room, a room which Aemond had made sure was a single for only her, he also made sure he had acquired a key for himself. He felt horrible that he couldn’t help her move things, especially the heavy things, but he knew there was no way she wouldn’t recognize him, and she clearly remembered him. She had several old pictures uploaded to her Instagram of the two of them together, one of them at a Carnival with their faces painted (which she had made him do, even forcing the painter to paint over the eyepatch since it would wash off), one of them carving pumpkins on Halloween, and Aemond’s personal favorite, a picture of the two of them snuggled up in his bed as she had slept over the night before, she was snuggled into his chest with his arms around her and his face in her hair which covered the scar completely. He knew she had plenty of pictures of the two of them without his eye patch on but she never put them online and he loved her for that, even if she didn’t know it yet. Next to his mother, she was the only person who really understood how sensitive he was about his scar and she never made him feel less than because of it, he knew she would never betray him, not even having shown her mother the pictures without the eyepatch.
He followed her to all of her classes, often watching them through the security cameras he had hacked into (becoming quite good at it) to see her during class, he had always loved her look of concentration as her eyes narrowed and she looked like she was scowling at you, she was adorable. He had placed several cameras in her room as well, watching her whenever he could, all she really did was school work and he realized how overwhelmed she was by college life, school was never her environment, it was too stressful for her and her free spirited mind and he knew it. He also knew that her Grandmother had threatened to kick her out onto the streets if she didn’t go to college for what she told her to, he had plans for that women, she will get what she deserves.
On several occasions he was witness to moments that he knew should be private, whether that be her stressed out crying or more…intimate moments. He couldn’t help but watch as her fingers touched her pretty little pussy, rubbing her clit and listening to the sweet sounds she made trying to be quiet, he couldn’t help but wrap his fingers around his length and edge himself right along with her, imagining those fingers in her cunt were his cock, desperate to feel her soft, warm pussy squeezing him as tight as it could as he made her cum again and again until she couldn’t take it anymore. He had fantasized about making her cum on his cock since he was 13 years old and by now he was more than desperate for her.
There were a few nights he actually snuck into the dorms and into her room, watching her sleep up close, trailing his fingers down her body, hating that he can’t just crawl into the bed beside her and hold her tight while he shoves his cock into her and makes her fall asleep with it as deep as it can get.
2 months he watched her before knowing he needed to make her his now, before it was too late. She had been asked out on a date by a Frat guy, begging to take her to a party and Aemond knew he couldn’t allow this.
The Frat boy got a visit from him later that night, waking up to Aemond sitting on the edge of his bed and realizing he had been tied down so tight that the ropes were cutting off circulation to his hands and feet. ‘Hello Chad, so sorry to wake you but this is a very important matter you see. Scream, and I will bash your brains in before anyone can even find out the door is locked, got it?’ He nodded quickly, terror in his eyes and Aemond found that he loved it, he loved scaring people that would hurt his Princess, she doesn’t deserve the kind of treatment this idiot would give her and Aemond knew that party wasn’t anything more than to make fun of his girl. The Frat assholes all getting a freshman girl to come to the ‘party’ and whichever guy could get their girl to put out first won some bullshit prize.
No. His Princess would not be humiliated like that.
‘You see Chad, you are bringing a girl back here tomorrow night, her name is Y/n, yes?’ He nodded again.
‘I didn’t know she was your girl, she didn’t say anything like that! I would never-‘
‘Yes you would, don’t lie to me Chad, boyfriend or not you would happily have brought her back here and made her a part of your little game.’ His eyes widened, unsure how Aemond could possibly know about that. ‘You’re not going to pick her up tomorrow Chad, do you understand? I will not have my Princess hurt and humiliated by an idiotic asshole who realistically couldn’t make a girl smile let alone cum. Now, this is just a warning of course, if I find out you went anywhere near her after our little conversation here, I would have to do something far worse than break into your disgusting Frat house and break your eye socket, do you get me?’
‘Yes! Yes, I-wait…break my wha-‘ quickly Aemond brought the bat he had picked up from the floor, down against the jackasses face, shoving the edge of his blanket into his mouth as he went to scream.
‘Secretly, I hope you do try something just so I get to have an excuse to come back here and break every one of your ribs before I ensure no women will ever say yes to a date with you again.’ He flicked open a blade, holding it against Chads face and hearing him whimper like a bitch. ‘It’s okay Chad, I’m not going to hurt you as long as you do what I’ve said here tonight. Are we on the same page?’ He nodded quickly and Aemond stood, walking out of the room and leaving the house, deciding on taking the bat with him, just in case.
The next night Y/n waited in the Quad at 9 o’clock, cursing out the asshole who didn’t pick her up and feeling the tears welling up in her eyes. She had been so alone here all this time, in a place she didn’t want to be at in the first place and just when she thought someone might be interested in her, even an asshole Frat jock, he stands her up. She felt like she couldn’t hold it in anymore, trying to muffle her cries with the sleeves of her hoodie before hearing someone speak to her.
‘Are you alright Princess?’ Princess? No one had called her Princess since-
Her head snapped up and she saw a very tall man standing about 5 feet away, he was lanky but still covered in muscle that you could clearly see through his tight henley shirt, he wore jeans and heavy boots with his silver hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. They black eyepatch sealed the deal for her though, if she didn’t already assume who this is, now she knows. ‘Aemond? Is that you?’
‘In the flesh…why are you crying Princess?’ He moved to sit beside her on the edge of the fountain and she just stared at him in shock.
‘I…I got stood up-what are you doing here?!’ He smiled sweetly and she couldn’t help but think how handsome her best friend had become…he’s a panty dropper!
‘I’m in New York setting up a branch here for Dad, the school however, my father has recently become a benefactor of, Daeron wants to come to school here for a year to start his doctorate in 2 years, you know dad, start bribing them as early as possible.’ He joked and she giggled, remembering exactly how Viserys used to be. She never had seen him much, which she understood was Aemond’s experience too, but he was always very sweet to her, bringing her gifts and sweets with all of his other children since she was there almost 100% of the time.
‘Did you know I was here?’ He nodded and she glared half heartedly at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?!’ She raged, punching him in the arm.
‘We’ll mostly because I sent a letter a few years after you left and your grandmother wrote back that I would receive a restraining order if I ever contacted you again. That’s why I never reached out online either, I didn’t want to get you in trouble if she found out.’ Her face fell as he told her that and her tears began streaming again. ‘No more tears Princess, please? Such a gorgeous girl should never feel the need to shed a tear.’ He reached up, taking her face in his hands and wiping her tears with his thumbs tenderly.
‘I’m sorry she did that to you! I wanted to talk to you so badly, everyday! She was so awful to my mom and I thought maybe I would be able to talk to you when we were older but she kept tabs on everything I ever did and now I’m being forced to go to this shitty fucking school and live on campus all alone, and suffocate under a course load that I didn’t want in the first place…I just wanted to paint…and the first time I think maybe I could actually not be completely alone here I get stood up by an asshole Frat jerk!’ Aemond had pulled her to his chest as soon as she started ranting, knowing she needs someone to be there for her and he was determined to make sure it was him. ‘And now I’m ranting to you when you clearly have places to be, I’m sorry!’ She tried to pull away but he didn’t let her, lifting her into his lap for good measure and smiling at the squeak that came from her when she was sat down on him.
‘None of that Princess, you have always been and will always be most important, and I finished my meeting. I’m all yours.’ He said it in a way that he hoped she would hear his dedication to her, and she did, she heard it and couldn’t help but hope he meant he really was all hers. ‘Do you have classes tomorrow?’ She shook her head, resting it against his chest and he felt his entire body heat up as he held her to him firmly, determined that no one would ever take her away again. ‘Okay, then here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go back to my place, you’re going to borrow some clothes and we’re going to order dinner-‘
‘No, you have things to do, you’re working here, I can’t-‘
‘No, I can’t! I can’t leave you like this, and I won’t, I will take care of you…you’re mine Princess.’ She looked up at him shocked and he tried his best to convey how hard it’s been without seeing her for the last 14 years. ‘I let them take you from me once, I won’t do it again now that I’ve found you…don’t make me let you go back to a dorm all alone…I won’t do it Y/n.’ She nodded her head quickly, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.
‘I missed you so much Aemond, if you’re sure you’re not too busy-‘
‘I will never be too busy for you. My weekend is yours, come on.’ He helped her stand up but didn’t let go of her, keeping his arm around her waist as he took her bag and led her down to the parking lot where his car is waiting. Aemond opened the door and lifted her into the car, hearing her gasp as he man handled her in, not once complaining about it. The drive was quick back to his home, it was an apartment in a high rise building and he loved watching her eyes slowly widen as she watched the numbers on the elevator go up and up, all the way to the top.
‘You have a penthouse apartment?’ He nodded, smirking down at her and she shoved him playfully.
‘Surely you can’t forget how we live Y/n, you think my father would let me stay anywhere else. Even if I am the least favorite, he insists on a certain condition of living for his family…he would be appalled by your state by the way, and I’m sure once I tell him he will be fixing it-‘
‘What are you talking about? I’m already in a single dorm, I have everything I-‘
‘You shouldn’t be living in a dorm room with God knows how many other women all sharing a bathroom, you’re basically family-‘
‘But I’m not.’ She cut him off and he looked at her startled as he opened the door. ‘Look at this place Aemond! It’s an apartment and I could never afford something like this! I love that you think of me as a sister and your parents think of me like an honorary child but I’m not, I am a peasant compared to you and that will never change, we live in 2 different worlds Aemond.’ He stared at her, trying to calm himself before opening his mouth.
‘You loved being a part of our family…you never judged me for how I lived before-‘
‘I’m not judging you-‘
‘But you are! I don’t like the idea that you think we’re in 2 different worlds, because I never want to exist in a world where you are not beside me, you will never live like that again, not now that I’ve found you. And the fact that you think I ever thought of you like a sister…well it’s just disgusting.’ He explained, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers as lightly as possible before moving to the kitchen, putting her bag on the couch. ‘Now, what would you like for dinner? Are you still a pizza girl, or would you like Chinese? We can get burgers too.’ He offered, pulling out a burger place menu, knowing that’s what she would pick and she quickly did, her whole face red in a heavy blush.
They ordered dinner and Aemond had a man go and pick it up for them while they chose a scary movie to watch. Aemond had loaned her one of his Henley’s before getting her a pair of his boxers from the drawer and letting her change, throwing her clothes into the wash and not being able to stop the creepy stalker inside of him from smelling her panties before putting them in. He had to stop himself from jumping her the second he walked back into the room, seeing his Princess wearing his clothes and sitting in his bed clearly waiting for him.
He set the food down, handing her her chocolate milkshake before stripping to his boxers and climbing into the bed beside her. He saw her try to hide her reddening cheeks as she looked at him, staring at his muscular chest before tearing her eyes away. It wasn’t until he noticed her rubbing her legs together that he felt his cock begin to twitch. She was just as effected by him as he was by her and he was going to have her!
They talked through the movie while eating, getting to know each other, mostly her getting to know him but he asked questions to things he knows the answers to but shouldn’t, and he loved that no matter how personal, she never once lied to him about anything. After all this time she still felt completely comfortable with him.
‘Oh! Mother will be so excited to see you! Come here!’ He held up his phone and pulled her to him, taking a picture of them quickly with her back to his chest as his arm wrapped across her shoulder and torso, his face nuzzled against her hair. It smelled like mangos and pomegranates, everything about her was just perfect.
‘Wait! You’re shirtless! She’s gonna think-‘
‘What?’ He asked, smirking down at her, humor written all over his face as he waited for her to say it. ‘What is she going to think, Princess?’
‘Nothing, never mind.’ She rolled her eyes, leaning against him as the movie finished, Aemond now laying down on the pillows with her head on his chest as if they were children at a sleepover once again.
‘I really did miss you Y/n…there wasn’t one day that I didn’t think about you.’ He willed his cock to stop twitching as she traced her finger around his stomach.
‘I missed you too, I never forgot about you Aemond. You know, I often wondered how someone who had been in my life for such little time could be such a big part of it but you were…you are. I never stopped loving you.’ He took hold of her chin, turning her head to face him and traced her bottom lip with his thumb lightly.
‘I am never leaving you again…tell me you’re mine.’ She gasped quietly, hesitating only a moment before nodding. ‘I know you want me…tell me you’re mine Y/n…tell me.’
‘I’m yours-‘ He cut her off instantly, lips crashing to hers hard and pulling her against his chest firmly. One arm held her waist firmly while his other hand buried his fingers into her hair. He licked her bottom lip, his tongue instantly exploring her mouth as she parted them, sucking her tongue between his lips and making her giggle. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling the hair tie out and tugging it firmly prompting him to bite down on her lip roughly making her squeal.
‘Such fun noises you make, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wondered what you would sound like for me!’ He rolled on top of her, hauling her legs up around his waist and grinding his crotch against her.
‘Oh! Oh Fuck Aemond! Feels so good!’ She whined as he ground his hard cock down against her.
‘You have no idea Princess, I’m going to make you see stars.’ He swore, grabbing ahold of the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up and off of her. ‘So fucking perfect baby, perfect fucking tits!’ His lips wrapped around her rosy nipple, sucking hard and chuckling when her back arched up into him as he did this. He switched tits, pulling her hardened peak between his teeth teasingly before beginning to kiss and suck his way down her stomach, fingers catching on her boxers and pulling them down, throwing them off to the side of the bed. He took a pause, leaning back and looking down at her…Finally seeing his girl on his bed laid out for him…nothing could be sweeter. She closed her legs awkwardly, unsure why he stopped but he quickly caught them, yanking them apart again roughly. ‘No you don’t gorgeous! You’re mine, all mine. I’m allowed to look at what’s mine. All fucking mine.’ He growled, leaning back down and shoving his face between her legs, tasting her for the first time. Aemond lifted her legs onto his shoulders, sucking on her clit and grinning as he heard her loud, needy cries.
‘Fuck, yes! Please? Please Aemond, don’t stop?!’ Stop? Stop? What is Stop? He couldn’t define that word right now, it didn’t fucking exist to him as he flattened his tongue and traced it down to her hole, pushing into her and moaning at how tight his little cunt was for him. He peeked up at her as he began fucking into her with his tongue, his nose brushing against her clit and making her squeal. ‘Oh God!’
‘No!’ He cut her off, fingers rubbing hard at her clit as he looks up at her and she tries to pull away from the almost painful attention on her body. ‘Tonight, I am your God. Do you understand me? Tonight you pray to me while I worship this body. Yes?’
‘Yes! YES! Please God, Please?!’ She sobbed, tears falling from her eyes now as she teetered on the edge, so close and needing one last push.
‘Yes Princess.’ He moaned, pushing his long fingers into her and shoving her over that edge just as she needed, watching her face contort in ecstasy as she came, hips lifting off of the bed as she screamed.
‘Fuck Aemond!’
‘There’s my good girl! Cumming so good for me.’ He kissed his way back up her body, removing his boxers as he did and leaning against her, taking his thick cock in his hand and preparing to push himself into her. ‘How do you feel baby?’ She just moaned, nodding her head and pulling him down to kiss her and as she did he pressed his cock against her hole, driving his hips home and finding her cute little squeal completely adorable. ‘So good!’ Aemond groaned, pulling out and pushing into her again. ‘So fucking tight on me, aren’t you?’ She nodded, her mouth hanging open as if screaming but no sound was coming out. ‘Yes you are, so good to me, this little pussy loves my cock so much, feel how she’s pulsing around me? She knows my cock is the only one that can make you feel like this. The only one that ever will again.’ He had picked up his pace and was now slamming into her over and over again. ‘You’re mine now Princess, all mine! Mine to care for, mine to love, mine to fuck! Isn’t that right?’
‘Yes! Yes Aemond! All yours! Please, please never stop! Oh Fuck!’
‘No need to beg Baby.’ Tears were now leaking down her cheeks and he knew he had her just where he wanted her. He could get her to agree to anything he’d like. He felt her cunt tighten around him and watched her eyes roll up as she came around his cock, squeezing so good he could make a case for why this wasn’t Earth anymore but Heaven that they were tethered to. His thumb found her clit as he sat back, thrusting into her at a rapid pace and feeling his end approaching quickly, throwing her into another orgasm before allowing himself to finish, burying his cock inside of her as deeply as he could and filling her up. ‘That’s it. Good Girl, taking all of me so good. I’m gonna take you home, back to where you belong with our family. No more school you don’t want to be in, no more grandparents you despise, just you and me and all of the babies that I’m going to fill this body with. How does that sound?’ Y/n’s responding moan was answer enough for him, whether it was meant to be or not. ‘All mine now Princess…all mine.’
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Stalker Aemond Moodboard
Aemond Targaryen Masterlist
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rafescurtainbangz · 3 months
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Proactive Type of Person - Rafe Cameron Two Shot - Part 1 of 2
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Perv/Frat!Rafe x Female!Reader
+18 Minor DNI
Spoilers in the Warning: swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral (if I missed tags I'm sorry)
Edited lightly (sorry I've been in my head about my writing lately so she's kinda rough tbh)
3.8k
Part 1 will be from Rafe's POV Part 2 will be from the Female Reader’s
Rafe's POV:
Part 1
“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze. 
Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck. 
“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.” 
I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.” 
“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”
“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”
“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own. 
“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.
“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt. 
“I agree.” 
“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She's not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it? 
She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.
“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets. 
Who’s that?
Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again. 
“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips. 
Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.
Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that. 
My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can't wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I'm gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I'm torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She's a Phi Mu girl.”
“No shit?”
“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she's mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words. 
“All semester, and you haven't made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done. 
“Long game,” he defends himself. 
“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”
“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn't even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don't even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I'm gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.” 
Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less. 
“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I'm not fuckin’ around. She's mine.” 
My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I'm bigger. He can fight, but he's not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn't care less. And he knows it. 
He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch. 
“Mine.”
++++++++
I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display. 
I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock. 
Where are you going, pretty girl?
She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.
She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me. 
I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill. 
I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that. 
“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm. 
“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile. 
“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”
“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.
“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-” 
“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor. 
My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh. 
“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.  
“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.
“Thank you. Oh, umm, you're a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo. 
“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”
“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”
“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.
“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”
I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat's money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”
“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect. 
“I try… But, if we get busted, I'll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.” 
She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook. 
Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl's eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.
“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”
“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.
“No problem, y/n.”
Gifts... That’s what my girl likes.
Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys. 
I'll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself. 
I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I've never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.
The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”
“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm. 
“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.
I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips. 
He’s fucking dead. 
++++++++
I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her. 
My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits. 
She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath. 
Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.
Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state. 
“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. 
I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body. 
She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy... 
Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight. 
“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.
I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand. 
‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”
‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum. 
I'll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.
My perfect cumslut.
I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I'll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.
No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway. 
My dirty little whore. 
I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all. 
She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?” 
She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again. 
“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile. 
“Just got done with a workout?” She asks. 
“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet. 
“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200. 
“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again. 
“Positive,” I assure. 
“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.
I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.
“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I'll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.
Baby girl…
Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don't think I can take this. 
“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod. 
“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”
I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.
Next stop, Phi Mu.
A/N: Writing Part 2 Soon :)
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estapa-edwards · 4 days
Note
"Team Sweetheart" and "Physical Therapist" are so gorgeous I've reread them both like 10 times! They leave me so full of butterflies I am positively buzzing! May I please make a request with Jack and a girl who has no knowledge/familiarity with hockey, or any sports for that matter? Maybe just them introducing eachother to their interests/worlds as their relationship develops and it's just nice to be with someone a bit removed from what Jack's life is centered around. Idk if that makes sense please ignore this if you don't like it.
CONNECTION - J . HUGHES
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paring: Jack Hughes x reader
word count: 2k
requested? yes
warnings: use of y/n.
*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*
Jack Hughes walked into the quiet café, eager for a break from the relentless pace of his hockey-centered life. The New Jersey Devils had been having a grueling season, and every moment off the ice felt like a precious escape. The café, tucked away in a corner of downtown Newark, had become his haven. Today, however, he was greeted by an unfamiliar face behind the counter.
“Hi, welcome to Brewed Awakening. What can I get you?” the girl asked with a warm smile. Her name tag read "Y/N."
Jack glanced at the menu, though he already knew what he wanted. “I’ll have a black coffee, please.”
Y/N nodded, her fingers flying over the buttons of the register. “Coming right up. Are you from around here?”
Jack hesitated. Despite his growing fame, he still enjoyed the anonymity of casual encounters. “Yeah, I live nearby. What about you?”
Y/N handed him his change and started preparing his coffee. “I just moved here for school. Trying to get the hang of the city and all.”
Jack smiled. “It’s a great place once you get to know it. What are you studying?”
“Art history. I know, it’s not exactly the most practical major, but it’s my passion,” she said with a slight laugh. “What about you? What do you do?”
Jack paused, unsure of how to respond. “I’m... in sports,” he said vaguely.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his hesitation. “Any particular sport?”
“Hockey,” he admitted. “I play for the New Jersey Devils.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry, I don’t really follow sports. But that sounds impressive!”
Jack chuckled. “That’s okay. It’s actually kind of refreshing to meet someone who isn’t obsessed with hockey.”
Y/N handed him his coffee. “Well, I’m glad I could provide a break from the norm. Enjoy your coffee!”
As Jack took a seat by the window, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity about Y/N. She was different from anyone he had met in a long time. He found himself looking forward to his next visit to the café.
--- --- --- 
Over the next few weeks, Jack found himself returning to Brewed Awakening more often. Each time, he and Y/N would chat for a few minutes, their conversations growing more personal with each encounter. Jack learned that Y/N was passionate about art, spending her weekends exploring museums and galleries. She, in turn, learned about Jack’s rigorous training schedule and the pressures of professional sports.
One rainy afternoon, Jack entered the café, drenched from practice. Y/N greeted him with a sympathetic smile. “Rough day?”
“Just a long one,” he replied, shaking off his wet jacket. “Do you have a break coming up? I’d love to hear more about this art thing you’re always talking about.”
Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Actually, I do. Give me five minutes to finish up here.”
A few minutes later, Y/N joined Jack at his table, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. “So, where should I start?”
“Tell me about your favorite artist,” Jack suggested, genuinely curious.
Y/N’s face brightened. “That’s a tough one, but I’d have to say Vincent van Gogh. His work is so emotional and raw. There’s something incredibly moving about the way he saw the world.”
Jack listened intently as Y/N described van Gogh’s turbulent life and vibrant paintings. He found himself captivated by her passion and the way she brought the art to life with her words.
“You should come to the museum with me sometime,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I think you’d really enjoy it.”
Jack smiled. “I’d like that. And maybe I can take you to a hockey game in return?”
Y/N laughed. “Deal. But you’ll have to explain everything to me. I know absolutely nothing about hockey.”
Jack chuckled. “I think I can manage that.”
--- --- --- 
Their first outing together was to the Newark Museum of Art. Jack was out of his element but excited to see the world through Y/N’s eyes. As they wandered through the galleries, Y/N explained the stories behind the paintings and sculptures, her voice filled with excitement and admiration.
“This is one of my favorites,” she said, stopping in front of a large, colorful painting. “It’s called ‘Starry Night Over the Rhône’ by van Gogh. Look at the way the stars and the reflections in the water create this almost dreamlike scene.”
Jack stared at the painting, trying to see it the way Y/N did. “It’s beautiful,” he said finally. “I can see why you like it so much.”
Y/N smiled. “I’m glad you think so. Art has always been a way for me to escape, to see the world differently.”
Jack nodded, understanding more than he expected. “Hockey is like that for me. When I’m on the ice, everything else fades away.”
A few days later, it was Y/N’s turn to step into Jack’s world. She had agreed to attend one of his games, despite her lack of knowledge about hockey. Jack had arranged for her to have a prime seat, and as she settled in, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.
The arena was buzzing with energy, fans cheering and waving signs. Y/N watched in awe as the players took to the ice, their speed and skill mesmerizing. She spotted Jack, his focus intense as he prepared for the game.
Throughout the match, Y/N found herself on the edge of her seat, cheering along with the crowd even though she didn’t fully understand the rules. She couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride every time Jack made a play, his talent and dedication evident in every move.
After the game, Jack met her outside the locker room, still in his gear and grinning from ear to ear. “So, what did you think?”
“It was amazing!” Y/N exclaimed. “I had no idea hockey could be so intense. You were incredible out there.”
Jack laughed, relieved that she had enjoyed herself. “I’m glad you liked it. Maybe we can make a fan out of you yet.”
Y/N smiled. “Maybe. But only if you keep coming to art galleries with me.”
“Deal,” Jack agreed, feeling a warmth spread through him. Despite their different worlds, he felt a connection with Y/N that he hadn’t felt with anyone else.
--- --- --- 
​​As the weeks turned into months, Jack and Y/N grew closer, finding comfort in their contrasting interests. They delighted in introducing each other to new experiences, each outing deepening their bond.
One sunny Saturday, Jack found himself at a local art supply store with Y/N. She was on a mission to find the perfect set of watercolors for a new project. Jack followed her through the aisles, amused by her enthusiasm.
"Do you paint?" Jack asked, curious.
"I dabble," Y/N replied with a grin. "Mostly for fun, though. It’s a great way to relax and let my mind wander."
Jack picked up a brush, twirling it between his fingers. "Maybe you could teach me sometime. I’ve never really done anything like this."
Y/N’s eyes lit up. "I’d love to! It’s really not about being perfect, just about expressing yourself."
A few days later, Y/N set up a makeshift studio in her apartment, covering the table with newspapers and setting out a variety of paints and brushes. Jack arrived, looking both excited and apprehensive.
"Ready to become the next Van Gogh?" Y/N teased, handing him a canvas.
Jack laughed. "I think that might be a stretch, but I’m ready to give it a shot."
As they painted side by side, Y/N offered gentle guidance, encouraging Jack to experiment with colors and shapes. Despite his initial uncertainty, Jack found himself enjoying the process. It was a welcome change from the structured, high-pressure world of hockey.
"You’re a natural," Y/N said, admiring Jack’s painting of a snowy landscape.
Jack shook his head with a chuckle. "I think you’re just being nice, but thanks. This is actually really fun."
Y/N smiled, pleased to see Jack so relaxed. "See? I knew you’d enjoy it."
Their relationship continued to flourish, each new experience bringing them closer together. Jack took Y/N to more games, patiently explaining the rules and strategies. Y/N, in turn, took Jack to more art exhibits and even a few art classes.
One evening, after a particularly thrilling game, Jack and Y/N found themselves at a quiet diner, sharing a plate of fries. Jack looked at Y/N, feeling a surge of gratitude.
"You know, I never thought I’d enjoy learning about art so much," Jack admitted. "But being with you has opened my eyes to so many new things."
Y/N reached across the table, squeezing his hand. "And I never thought I’d enjoy sports, but you’ve made it so much fun. It’s nice to have someone to share these experiences with."
Jack smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite their different backgrounds, they had found a way to connect on a profound level. It was a rare and precious thing, and Jack knew he wanted to hold onto it.
--- --- ---
As their relationship grew stronger, Jack and Y/N began to face the challenges that came with their differing worlds. Jack’s demanding schedule often kept them apart, and Y/N’s art exhibitions sometimes took her to different cities.
One evening, after a particularly grueling week of practice and games, Jack called Y/N, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I miss you," he admitted. "It feels like we haven’t seen each other in ages."
Y/N sighed, feeling the distance keenly. "I miss you too. It’s hard, but we’ll get through it. How about we plan something special for next weekend? Just us."
Jack’s spirits lifted at the thought. "That sounds perfect. Let’s go somewhere quiet, away from everything."
The following weekend, they escaped to a cabin in the woods, a peaceful retreat where they could unwind and reconnect. They spent their days hiking through the forest, cooking meals together, and sitting by the fire, talking about everything and nothing.
One evening, as they sat on the porch, watching the sunset, Jack took Y/N’s hand. "I’m really glad we’re doing this," he said softly. "It’s exactly what I needed."
Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. "Me too. It’s nice to just be us, without all the noise."
As they sat in comfortable silence, Jack realized how much Y/N meant to him. She had become his anchor, a source of joy and calm in his hectic life. He knew their relationship wasn’t always easy, but he was willing to face any challenge as long as they were together.
With the hockey season winding down, Jack finally had more time to spend with Y/N. They began to talk about their future, their conversations filled with excitement and hope.
One sunny afternoon, they found themselves at a local park, lying on a blanket and watching the clouds drift by. Jack turned to Y/N, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Have you ever thought about what comes next for us?" he asked.
Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "I think about it all the time. I want us to keep exploring new things together, to keep supporting each other’s passions."
Jack nodded, feeling a sense of certainty. "I want that too. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. Your dreams are just as important as mine."
Y/N reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Jack’s face. "And I’m here for you, always. We’ll figure it out together."
As they lay there, hand in hand, Jack knew they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives. It wouldn’t always be easy, but with Y/N by his side, he felt ready for anything. They had built a strong foundation, one based on mutual respect and a genuine love for each other’s worlds. And as they looked towards the future, they knew that together, they could face whatever came their way.
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ladycaramelswirl · 7 days
Text
I love you more
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Ahhh it’s finally done! This is my first ever fic so it’s a little clunky, but I hope you like it💕
Summary: BAU reader and Aaron are married. What happens when she wakes up in a different past than the one she knows?
A/N: for the sake of the story Aaron and Haley get divorced some time in early S2. Reader joins in S3 and her and Aaron start dating during beginning S4. If anyone’s curious it’s a friends to lovers where he’s already in love with her before they start dating. I might write that too if anyone’s interested. sorry if there’s any typos 🙇‍♀️ (girl dad Aaron inspired by all the Ellie Hotchner writing by @ssahotchnerr)
Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, ANGST lol, no happy ending (TBD I may write a part 2), no use of Y/N. My love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation and it’s very evident here. Don’t come for me. SFW.
(Feel free to stop reading at the point where they fall asleep if you don’t want to read angst).
———————————————
Sunlight streams into the room, waking you up. You turn to the side to see Aaron already up, smiling. 
“Good morning, Mrs. Hotchner.”
You giggle. 
“Good morning, husband.”
His smile widens and he gives you a small kiss. It had been a little joke between you both on the day after your wedding, but it had stuck, becoming a part of your routine every morning. You both love it because it reminds each of you how happy you were on your wedding day, and how much you appreciate being in each others life. It’s been a year and a half since your wedding, and almost 4 years since you started dating. You move around each other seamlessly, every step of your morning routine in sync. You both brush your teeth and then he makes coffee while you make breakfast. Jack comes down the stairs and you all eat together. After breakfast, he will wash the dishes as you make sure Jack has everything for school. Today though, as you meet Aaron’s eyes over your coffee, you know he’s thinking of your last case, a family annihilator who targeted families as they ate together. You both had trouble sleeping after coming home last night, but as he squeezes your hand, you are profoundly grateful for the simple gift of being able to drink coffee in the morning with the love of your life. 
“I love you”, you whisper, not wanting to alert Jack to why you both look a little sad.
“I love you too”, he whispers back.
“I love you the most!”, Jack shouts and you both smile. The two of them argue about how each of you loves the other more as you finish breakfast. Aaron picks up Jack and you all end up in a big giggly hug. 
“How about we all agree that all of us love each other the most?”, he asks. Jack ponders for a moment.
“Okay”, he nods. “If you love me can I have ice cream?”
You burst into laughter as Aaron frowns, trying to hide his smile.
“Nice try buddy, but no ice cream before school.”
Jack pouts as you tell him to get his bag for school, but the ice cream is forgotten as you ask him some questions about his friends that he enthusiastically answers. He continues chattering on until he’s dropped off at school.
“Bye!”, he yells before running out of the car to meet his friends.
——
You give each other a quick kiss while still in the Quantico parking lot. You’ve both agreed to keep things professional at work, including a rule about no PDA in the office. But yesterday’s case must have rattled Aaron more than you thought because he grabs your hand in the elevator and squeezes three times. I love you. You squeeze three times back, which is how the elevator opens to you holding hands smiling as you look into each others eyes. You hear a squeal and both startle, dropping your hands, but not before Penelope takes a photo. 
“I am making this your new computer background! I have a criminally small number of photos with you two. You’re so professional all the time, you wouldn’t even know that you’re together”, she pouts.
“Penelope you took like a hundred photos at our wedding”, you laugh.
“And there are rules about workplace conduct”, Aaron reminds, which causes her to blush. Derek walks past you three to whisk Penelope away.
“Leave mom and dad alone”, he whispers loudly while grinning, clearly meaning to let you both hear the office nickname for you two. You roll your eyes at him and smile at Aaron before heading to your desk, greeting the others good morning. You barely have a chance to sit down before JJ calls you all into the conference room for a briefing on a new case. You grab your go bag and head to the jet. The local police department has called you late and the unsub’s already starting to devolve, making mistakes everywhere and leading you all to finding him within a couple of hours after landing. He gets shot while getting apprehended which means there’s no interrogation either. You all pile back onto the jet, the pilot letting you know that you’ll be back at Quantico in an hour. It feels wrong to go home on time. For all that death to be part of a regular 9 to 5 work day. Catching the unsub is supposed to mean a success, but it’s tense on the jet. You’re still reeling at the attitude of the local police department. They were insistent to do what they could to keep the BAU off the case and made it clear you had only invited because they were forced to by the mayor. You wonder if they had called sooner, that maybe some of the victims would still be alive. If he wouldn’t have killed his last victim when the police had ignored your profile and approached him with force instead of sympathy as you had recommended. You’re pretty sure everyone on the plane is thinking it too. You lift your arm into the air and gently nudge Aaron’s up too. Spencer catches your eye and his arm is also already halfway up, knowing exactly what’s coming.
“Last one with their hand in the air buys the first round tonight”, you say and immediately everyone’s hands shoot up except Rossi, who looks mildly annoyed.
“I would have bought a round for everyone anyway”, he shrugs.
Emily scoffs. “Grandpa’s a sore loser”, she says under her breath which causes you all to crack up. The air immediately feels lighter and everyone starts joking again, debating the fairness of your hands up game. You grab Garcia before leaving Quantico and all head to the bar down the street. Her bubbly chatter makes everyone laugh and you can’t help but feel pleased. The job was tough mentally, and you always tried to make sure the team was doing well. Satisfied that everyone was cheerful again, you decide to leave after the first round, but Aaron pulls you to the dance floor before you can even order, which gets you grins from other members of the team. You laugh as he spins you around.
“Damn Hotch got moves”, Derek shouts.
“If my wife looked like that I’d beg her to dance with me too”, Emily smirks.
You ignore their teasing, swaying in Aaron’s arms and enjoying the scent of him mixed with his cologne and laundry detergent. It smells like home. He kisses your forehead, finding comfort in the smell of your shampoo, and the soothing feeling of your body against his. 
“Everyone’s in a better mood because of you. Thank you for doing this”, he says into your hair.
You shrug. “Everyone needed this, including me. It’s not a big deal, I like it when everyone’s happy. It makes me happy.”
He gazes at you in rapture before leaning down to take your lips with his, kissing you breathless. You’re a little dazed when you both pull apart.
“What was that for Mr. Hotchner?”, you grin. 
You think you could get drunk on the way he looks at you.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much”, he says softly.
You feel a little prickle of tears. “I love you too. I don’t know what I’d do without you either, so you’re stuck with me forever”, you joke, causing him to smile.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
He leaves a kiss on your neck and you breathe out a sigh.
“Want to get out of here?”
“Trying to take advantage of me Mrs. Hotchner?”, he teases.
“Yes”, you giggle.
“Thank God”, he grins, pulling you towards the door.
“We’re going home!”, you wave at everyone who waves back, giving you both knowing smirks.
“Use protection!”, Emily yells, which earns her an eye roll from you. 
You walk over to your car and Aaron puts an arm around your waist.
“A little late for that”, he smiles.
You nudge his shoulder. “Did you only dance with me so I wouldn’t have to explain why I couldn’t drink?”
He gives you a little smile. “I danced with you because you’re beautiful. The fact that you asked me to help you keep it a secret was a fun bonus”.
The second you had seen the pregnancy stick change colour, Aaron had covered you in kisses. You were both elated. But telling people you were pregnant meant you would have to sit out from field work for a while and you loved your job. Aaron had been against it at first, worried about your safety, but you had come to an agreement that you would stop when you were ready, as long as you promised to take it easy. So you were keeping it a secret. But you both wanted to tell people.
“I think we should tell them soon”, you say. “At the rate she’s growing, people are going to figure it out anyway”
Aaron looks at you excitedly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah”.
He interlaces his fingers with yours and you drive home with you hands in each others.
When you get home you thank Jessica for watching Jack. He’s excited that you’re both home early enough to tuck him into bed, but he’s tired and his eyes are fighting to stay open.
“Good night Jack, I love you”, you whisper, kissing his forehead.
“I love you mommy”, he mumbles.
Then he hugs your stomach.
“I love you, baby”, he says.
You and Aaron melt, trying not to tear up. You were worried when you had first found out about your pregnancy, not wanting Jack to feel left out, but he had been so excited at the thought of having a sibling. After finding out that the baby could hear him, he had been chatting to her all the time. He was going to be a great big brother.
“I love you too daddy”, he says.
Aaron chuckles. “Love you buddy. Time to sleep.”
Jack nods off and you both quietly tiptoe out of his room. 
You get into bed and Aaron immediately puts him arms around you, pulling you to him. 
“How come he says I love you to you and the baby before me?”, he teases, rubbing his hand on your back.
“I guess he loves us more”, you joke. Aaron moves around so his face is near your stomach. 
“Hey sweetheart, your mom and Jack are teaming up against me. I’ll give you anything you want so promise me you’ll say Dad first instead of Mom or Jack when you come out okay?”
You smack his arm lightly.
“Stop bribing our daughter. And she’s going to say Mom first, right honey?”
Aaron smiles into your pyjamas. “It’s okay. I understand. I love your mom the most too”.
You pull him back up and rest your head on his shoulder.
“I can’t wait to meet her”, you whisper.
“If she’s anything like you, she’s going to be perfect”, he says.
“I hope she’s like you”, you tell him sincerely. You’d be lucky if your daughter was anything like her father. “I love you”.
You lie in each others arms, the last words you hear before falling asleep are a murmur of ‘I love you more’.
————————————
You wake up to the smell of pancakes. You smile, remembering you had told Aaron in the car last night that you wanted to eat some. You try to blink the fatigue out of your eyes and move towards the door. You recall a dream about him from last night that comes to you in flashes. It’s fuzzy, and you’re sleepy, which is why you don’t notice anything wrong until you step out and see the kitchen. Not your kitchen. And not Aaron in it. A smiling face startles you awake.
“Emily?”
“You woke up! I made pancakes, come have some”.
You stare at her. “When did I get here?”
She laughs. “You’ve been living here for like 2 weeks.”
What? “Seriously, how did I get here?”.
Her smile fades at the confusion on your face.
“You don’t remember?”
You shake your head and her brows immediately furrow in concern.
“You told me you were cleared for a concussion”, she mutters, sounding a little angry.
“Concussion?”
She forces you to sit down, frantically turning off the stove and grabbing you both coats. “Ok, we’re going to the hospital. I can’t believe you lied to me.” 
Lied? What the hell was going on?
“What? How would I have a concussion? Why am I in your apartment? Where’s Aaron?”, you ask, slightly panicked at this point.
Your words make her go still. She stares at you for a moment, but before you can say anything else, she grabs her car keys and starts pushing you out the door. She promises to explain later and, despite your protests, manages to get you in the car. She sets up the GPS and starts driving.
“Okay how much do you remember?”, she asks worriedly.
“I remember we went for drinks last night after the case, then we went home and went to bed. Why am I in your apartment? Why would I have a concussion?”.
She grips the steering wheel a little tighter and speeds up. You grip your seatbelt.
“Oh my God, Emily slow down”, you yelp.
She ignores you and pulls into the hospital parking lot, dragging you towards the ER. She flashes her badge at a nurse.
“Emily Prentiss, FBI.” She gestures at you. “She’s an agent. She hit her head yesterday and now she’s having memory problems. I think she has a concussion.” 
The nurse nods and asks you both to wait a moment. She gives you a form to fill out and Emily takes it. You look at her, exasperated.
“What’s going on?”
She looks tired. “We didn’t go out for drinks yesterday. You hit your head taking down an unsub. You told me you were cleared by the EMT, and you’ve been staying at my apartment since…”, she looks pained. “… for about 2 weeks because you’ve been a little… reckless lately.”
“Reckless?” If anything you’ve been more careful because you’re scared you might hurt the baby. “I’m not reckless.”
Emily stares at you in disbelief.
“You walked into a dangerous situation without backup. Look, I know things have been hard with Hotch-“
“What?” Why would things be hard with Aaron? “Aaron knows I wouldn’t do anything unnecessarily”, you tell her. 
Her eyes cloud in sympathy and you stare back, confused. Ok, well Aaron would be upset if you had stormed in without backup. But he knew you were capable and even mad, would still respect your decision. Right? You’re about to start interrogating her for answers when a voice interrupts you.
“Emily?”
You look up and all the blood drains from your face. You’re thankful you’re sitting down because you’re certain you would have fallen over. Emily squeezes your hand before standing up and greeting the owner of the voice.
“Hi, Haley, what are you doing here?”
You try not to look like you were seeing a ghost. Standing in front of you was a woman that was supposed to be dead, except she was very much alive. And also staring at you. She gives you a wave. Your brain somehow sends a signal to your arm to do the same.
“I just finished a checkup. I’m about to leave”, she says.
The two chat a little before Haley is called away by a nurse. You stare at the back of her head until she disappears. 
“You okay?”, Emily asks quietly.
You don’t even know how to answer. You glance down at the form Emily had left on her seat and blanch at the numbers on the top.
“Emily, what day is it?”
She looks at you worried.
“Wednesday.”
“The date. The full date”, you croak.
“Wednesday, 16th December 2009.”
You grip the chair. No. It was 2012. 16th December 2012.
“What day do you think it is?”, she asks softly. 
 You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It’s a prank. Some kind of prank. But you open your eyes and Emily is still staring at you. And suddenly your dream from last night comes back to you. You in Aaron’s driveway picking up some pictures from his old house to use for a surprise. Seeing Foyet walk in with Haley and Jack. Sneaking into the house and waiting for Jack to leave and shooting Foyet. Haley screaming as his blood splattered all over her. You silent as you watch the life leave his eyes. Aaron running in, hugging Jack and consoling Haley as she cried. Them leaving together. Him being on leave to spend time with them and you giving him space. Him bumping into you at a coffee shop after not speaking to you for 3 weeks. You running into the building with a deranged unsub without backup a few hours later. You feel it all like you were there. Not a dream, but memories. Each one filling you with agony and dread. You feel sick. You need to see Aaron.
“I have to go”, you tell Emily. She protests, telling you you need to get checked out, but she can tell from the haunted look in your eyes that you remember everything now. She nods, helping you to catch a taxi. You’re on autopilot as you give the driver the address to Aaron’s old apartment. The ride is a blur and you barely remember being in the elevator or knocking his door. You’re in a haze until he opens the door. The immediate guilt in his eyes and the sinking feeling in your stomach is sickeningly real.
“I need to talk to you”, you say, your voice shaking. He stares at you before opening the door wider, letting you in. You move towards the sofa but neither of you sit. Silence stretches out between the two of you. You need to say something. You need him to tell you this isn’t real. But you don’t know how to behave, how to be around this version of him that isn’t your husband. What do you say to the man who doesn’t know he was the father of a child that doesn’t even exist? He runs a hand through his hair and looks down at his feet. You continue to stare at the empty space beside his head. Before you had moved into your house, there used to be a picture hanging there of you, him and Jack. Now it’s just a blank wall. He breaks the silence first.
“They’ve offered me retirement.”
Your Aaron hadn’t told you like this. He had told you he was coming back. You suppose there’s only one reason he would tell you.
“You’re going to take it.”
It’s supposed to be a question, but you know him too well.
“I have to. For them.”
Every moment of what was supposed to be the rest of your life dies before your eyes. You’ll never have your sleepy good mornings. Never hear him call you his wife, never get married. Never hear Jack calling you mom, never sit down and eat with your family. They weren’t your family anymore, you remember. They were Haley’s. You want to scream. At the universe? At him?
He just thinks he’s breaking up with his girlfriend, you tell yourself. That the Aaron in front of you has barely even been in love with you for a year. He doesn’t know that he has any memories of your life together to miss. But he must see the devastation in your face because you see the shame etched in his. You watch his heart breaking at the thought of hurting you. As he sheds a tear, you instinctively bring your hand to his cheek, wiping it away with your thumb. He rests his forehead on your shoulder and you move your hand to the back of his head.
“I don’t know what to do”, he says, his voice breaking.
You feel your own tears fall down your face, warm. He doesn’t see them.
“You do”, you whisper back.
You know. That he loves Haley, but he doesn’t want to hurt you. That he loves you, but he wants to be a good father more. That their marriage had really only ended because of his job. You also know that you refuse to be with him if he’s in love with someone else. That you won’t be the reason Jack can’t have both his parents happily married under one roof. That Aaron deserves happiness with the love of his life, even if it’s not you. So you take a step towards him and allow yourself the comfort of being held by him one last time. You bury your face into his neck, and breathe him in. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you, and his smell, the two things that were once your greatest solace would now be the two things you would always wish you could forget. You want to stay here forever, to pretend that this was still the Aaron who loved you. But you put your hands on his chest, pushing your face away from the crook of his neck to look at him. You wonder if he remembers your life together - the future you would have had. If he knows there is a girl neither of you will ever meet. But he doesn’t look at you the way he used to. You feel, with a mournful certainty, that those memories are yours to die with. He presses his lips together, trying to blink his tears away. They fall anyway. You smile at the man who isn’t yours anymore.
“You love her”.
His whole body hurts at the certainty in your tone. Its agonising finality.
“I’m sorry”, he murmurs. You wonder what it means that you hope he doesn’t blame himself for your heart breaking. To you it just feels like pain.
“I know”. 
Your lips touch his in a farewell, the ghosts of a thousand kisses never to be dying between them. The words exchanged between two lovers from a lifetime ago feel heavy on your tongue. He would never hear you say them and you would never hear it back.
I love you.
“Goodbye, Aaron”.
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wolfiesmoon · 4 months
Text
Chocolate-covered strawberries
riddle x gn!reader
have u ever wanted to have a (totally definitely platonic with no romantic feelings involved, wdym? *wink wink*) sleepover w riddle? bcs if so, you might wanna read this
thanks to @chillpanda36 's plant related encouragement i am once again riddleposting (hope u dont mind being tagged >︿<)
I kinda got carried away and wrote waaaaay more than I thought i would
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"Wow, your room is so... swanky." you commented upon entering his room for the first time. It was decorated in checkerboard patterns and heart motifs, which was very fitting for the dorm of Heartslabyul.
You never expected him to actually agree when you jokingly suggested a sleepover, but you're definitely not complaining.
"Thank you. It was modeled after the Queen of Hearts' castle and has mostly stayed the same throughout the dorm's history. I only made a few adjustments to have it be better suited to me." he explained. Clearly, he took good care of the place since it looked very clean and organised.
"By the way, you won't collar me if I happen to break any of your weird rules by accident, will you?" you were still somewhat worried you'd have to sleep with that uncomfy collar around your neck.
"I will excuse you from the rules, just this once. But do not call the rules 'weird', as it is quite disrespectful to do so." he crossed his arms.
Well, atleast you're glad about that.
You placed down the little bag of stuff you brought with you just for this occasion. You got so excited you ended up planning out several activities for you and Riddle to do.
But first, you have pyjamas to change into! Riddle graciously offered to let you change in his bathroom. Even in there, everything is super clean and organised, almost to a scary degree. Somehow, you get the feeling that Riddle doesn't really know how to "have fun". In a 'casually messing around with firends' kinda way.
After changing into your pyjamas, you call out to Riddle to make sure he's done changing as well. Once he confirms he has, you exit his bathroom to find Riddle in an oversized, frilly pair of white pjyamas, the kind you'd find people wearing in the medieval times. Oh. My. God.
"Pffft.... You-" you had to pause to hold back from laughing. "You look like a starving victorian child." you couldn't help but point out the silly resemblance. The pjyamas brought the whole look together.
"I haven't the slightest clue what a victorian child is, but I am certainly not starving. Why must you constantly insult me with such strange phrases?" Oh, it makes sense he wouldn't get the comparison. And even if he did, you feel like he wouldn't be very amused.
"They aren't insults. Just little comparisons." You smiled innocently at him. While they are just comparisons in a sense, they are usually meant to rile him up a little bit. You just can't help but banter with anyone and everyone sometimes.
Riddle felt a slight shiver run down his spine since you reminded him of a certain someone who likes comparing people to sea creatures at that moment. Though your lovely smile didn't resemble his creepy grin at all.
Lovely... smile? What is he even thinking about right now?
"Are you... good? You're making a weird face." your voice snapped him out of it and he assured you he was perfectly fine. No cause for concern.
"You might not be starving, but are you in the mood for a little snack?" you tried your best to sound enticing, like you're mass advertising the little surprise you brought along with you.
"The rules state that-"
"I double-checked the dorm rules, don't worry. And I also know you don't like junk food, so I made sure my snack is on the healthier side. Sorry for interrupting you, by the way." you laughed awkwardly at his offended pout. But you weren't going to lie, his angry face wasn't intimidating or scary at all (atleast not right now). It gives off more of an 'angry little kitten' vibe to you. But you already made one silly comparison tonight so you feel like Riddle might appreciate this one even less.
"Well then. I'd like to know what it is." he actually seemed pretty interested in what you came up with. You dug around your bag, pulling out a packet of chocolate-covered strawberries.
"Feast your eyes on these bad boys!" the specific choice of chocolate-covered strawberries was a calculated one on your end. You had asked Trey about Riddle's food preferences before, but it was unrelated to this sleepover. You can only thank your past self (and Trey) for arming you with the valuable knowledge that Riddle likes strawberry tarts (and consequently strawberries, you hope).
"Oh. I suppose these look quite tasty." he was actually really pleasantly surprised about your choice of snack. It's surprisingly fit to his tastes.
How thoughtful of you...
"Here, have one!" you actually made homemade chocolate just for these. Trey gave you a good baking lesson on how to do that. So of course, you want him to be the first one to try!
He hesitates for a moment. Although the food you're giving him doesn't break any of the Queen's rules, it still feels off to be eating so late at night. Scheduled meals are so ingrained into his mind that he feels the sudden urge to reject the offer and go brush his teeth immediately.
But something strange blooms in his heart when he sees the excitement in your gaze and he submits, telling himself he'll do it just this once. For you.
He grabs one of the strawberries from the packet, slowly and hesitantly raising it to his mouth as if it were forbidden to eat. It still felt forbidden, no matter how many times he told himself it was fine to let loose sometimes.
"It's... delicious." he comments upon eating the entire strawberry.
"Oh, goodie! I was worried I messed up the chocolate, somehow." his eyes went slightly wide upon hearing that you made part of them yourself. He felt his chest tighten up slighly. In a good way.
"In that case, I shall have some more. And you eat them too, since you prepared them for this occasion." the two of you sat down on the edge of his bed, placing the strawberries in between you so you could both easily reach for them while talking.
You still made sure you swallowed the food before you talked though. To avoid a scolding about proper manners from Riddle.
"So, for this sleepover I was thinking we could try summoning a demon, playing board games, doing karaoke, watching a movie, playing 'would you rather', making a pillow fort, and-"
"What was that first one?" Riddle had never experienced a sleepover before, so he had no clue what people actually did in them but he always just imagined sleepovers were purely sleeping at eachother's houses, not doing anything BUT that. He could barely keep up with all of the things you were listing off, but the first one ESPECIALLY stumped him.
"Summoning a demon? Everyone tries that in sleepovers. Usually doesn't work." you shrugged casually, reaching for another strawberry.
"How... horrific. And utterly nonsensical. What joy do you get from doing something so horrible? Especially if you know it won't work?" he seemed genuinely stumped by the concept, which made you want to laugh but you held back since you didn't want to choke on a chocolate-covered strawberry. It would certainly be a way to go.
"It's about the thrill, Riddle. What if it actually works this time? You never know...." you whisper teasingly, like a narrarator in a horror movie.
"In that case, we are absolutely not doing that." he hates to admit it, but he's actually kind of worried a silly ritual might workmand is taking precautions right now to not let it happen at all.
"Hahaha, that's fine! We can do all the other stuff, then." you decided to take mercy on him after seeing how hard he's trying not to let it show that he's scared of demon summoning games. He reminds you of your friends on your first sleepover when you tried summoning a demon. All of you were acting tough and unbothered back then, but were deathly afraid and unable to sleep after.
When you reached for another strawberry, you just happened to grab Riddle's hand instead. Seems you were both going for the same one. Actually, that one's the final one!
"Oops... you go ahead and take it. I feel like I've had enough." you smiled awkwardly at him. Gosh, is it suddenly slightly hotter in here or is it just you?
"Thank you." Riddle looked away, turning his head so you wouldn't see his reddening face as he ate the final strawberry. He's kinda mad at himself for getting so flustered over an accidental hand hold. Your hand felt so... nice to hold. It would be so nice if he could hold it more often. Gah, what on earth is he thinking?! None of this is rational...
An awkward silence fills the room.
And you get a cheeky little idea.
You picked up a pillow from his bed and threw it at the back of his head.
"Hey. What do you think you are doing-HHMMF!" you threw another pillow, this time directly at his face as he turned around to scold you.
"PILLOW FIGHT!" you yelled out excitedly, already grabbing another pillow to defend yourself with as you scurried on the other side of his bed. You giggled at the way his entire face flushed red with anger.
"That was no fair! I was not prepared at all!" you totally caught Riddle off guard, but now he was prepared to have his revenge. He never had a pillow fight before, but if little kids are capable of having one, so is he. And he is quite confident that his magical abilities will give him the upper hand against you.
"Even if you were, I'd still win! They called me the pillow fight champion back in my world!" you throw a pillow at him, which he stops with his magic.
"Oh, we'll see about that. You've had quite enough of landing hits on me, I believe." he smirked confidently at you, feeling a childlike excitement running through his veins.
Now that he thinks about it, it has been a long long time since he has felt this excited and relaxed. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to do this over and over and over again.
In moderation.
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unreliablesnake · 8 months
Text
Punishment (Price x reader x 141)
Summary: Price wants to see you for a chat, but you act like a brat.
Warning: short smut. fingering.
Note: Barracks bunny reader! Check the barracks bunny fics tag for more. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.
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"You wanted to see me?" you asked once you slipped into the captain's office.
Price looked up, the corners of his lips curling into a wolfish grin as he pushed himself away from the desk and signaled you to come closer. You did as he wanted once you locked the door, and took your place between his legs without questioning his request.
"I trained you well," he noted with an amused hum as he put his hands on your hips. "So what is it that I heard about your reading preferences? Am I not enough?"
"I'm just bored."
He stood up and put a hand on your cheek, running his fingers down to your neck painfully slowly. "I should pay more attention to you. Or you could spend more time with the boys. I know you've been playing a dirty little game lately behind my back," he told you.
A gulp gave away that you knew perfectly well what he meant by that, but your mouth formed a different message. "I don't know what you're talking about," you said quietly.
The captain couldn't help but laugh and shake his head. "I don't mind sharing you with them."
"You don't?"
"As long as you obey me when you're here," he said with a nod.
"I wouldn't dare to–"
He interrupted you with a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth the moment you gave him access. Without breaking it even for one second, Price grabbed your ass and picked you up to place you on his desk. A smile crept on his lips when you wrapped your legs around him to pull him closer, showing him how badly you wanted his attention.
To him, you were like a well-trained, loyal little puppy, a woman who did everything like he said, and who always came back to him for more. His feelings were probably deeper than they should have been, and maybe his men had noticed it too. But he didn't mind the rumors. Let them talk.
"I wish we had time to have some fun," he admitted sadly when he pulled away. "But I called you here for work. Alex is here and needs some help. I'll take the boys with me to the field tomorrow, you should stay behind and help with whatever he has on his plate."
"That's not fair."
Price drew in a deep breath as he put a finger under your chin. "What did I say about you acting like a little brat, hmm?" he asked as he leaned closer.
"I'm sorry, Sir," you apologized with a barely audible voice, but the captain didn't seem to find it enough.
With a hungry look in his eyes he unbuttoned your cargo pants and sneaked his hand under your panties, his thick finger slipping between your folds without an issue. "Look at how wet you are for me, love. Just how I like it," he whispered into your ear before pushing another finger inside.
You bit back a moan as he began pumping, wishing you could bury your face into his shoulder, but he was still holding your chin with his other hand and made sure you kept eye contact the whole time. You knew it was sweet torture, you knew he wouldn't let you come after behaving like that with him around.
After all this time, Price knew your body better than anyone. He noticed when you were about to reach your high, so his movements came to an abrupt halt just in time. You hated this, you hated him, but at the same time you were sure you would be crawling back to him for more like you always did.
"This is what happens when you're not acting like the good girl I know you are," he said before giving you a soft kiss. "I have a task for you. Now that I know how much you love to play with the boys, I think you should try to get Alex's mind off Farah. He's so smitten with her, but I know for a fact she's not interested in him that way."
"Ouch," you noted as you leaned closer to kiss his neck, snuggling up to him with your arms around his body like a small kitten.
Price buried his nose into your hair to inhale your sweet scent. "Will you do it for me?" he asked you quietly. When he felt you nod, he let out a short laugh. "That's my girl. Don't disappoint me, sweetheart." Suddenly he let go and took a few steps away from you. "You should go, I've got an awful lot of work waiting for me."
Nodding, you fixed your pants and walked up to him with your hands folded behind your back. "Can I get a goodbye kiss, Sir?"
Oh, how much he loved to hear you call him that. He wanted to give you what you asked for, but he had been clear about the consequences if you behaved like some stupid brat. "You need to learn your lesson. If you'll be an obedient little girl, you'll get one the next time."
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bunniesanddeer · 3 months
Note
I really really LOVE the Touch chapters with Alastor. You write it so well! Although you have a fic on touch now already I was wondering if I could request something similar?
Persoanlly I think I'd be a really affectionate and touchy person but I simply cannot initiate touch without knowing where to touch, how long, how much pressure and so on. And asking people before hand makes them really confused and tbh I hate having to explain myself and sound needy about it. Idk if it's just me having some weird thing going on.
Anyways, would you consider writing Al with a reader that just got to the hotel and is very straight forward with people about their fear of initiating physical contact during times where reader knows someone would appreciate a hug or pat or any kind of physical contact but reader can't give it them before clearing just how hey want the touch to be.
So Alastor notices that reader acts very affectionate in moments with people who initiate touch (cuddles with Angel on the couch, does Charlie's hair). But at the same time he notices that they shy away and sometimes flinch away when reader touches someone by accident (handing someone something and their hands brush, etc) and apologizes as if they had just burned them.
He goes to figure out why that is and kind of challenges reader to touch him (after him consenting of course) whenever because the struggle and fear amuses him plenty but somewhere deep down he wants them to grow comfortable and confident since that is how their personality is over all and it suits them way better than the cowardly insecure overthinking reader who is too scared to ask for a hug on an especially bad day, even when it could literally save their afterlife.
Just fluff and more physical affection and soft Alastor
You don't have to though! We have already been blessed with some amazing works by you
Would appreciate it to the moon and back if you would take this request (or add another part to your Touch chapters because I am a girl OBSSESSED and starved, hungry for more lol)
Thank you sooooo much for reading and I hope you have a lovely weekend!!!!! <3
Hi! I hope this is something like what you wanted? I had fun writing this. Sorry it took me a little while, haha.
Challenge
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Tags: Fluff, touch sensitive reader/Alastor, slightest tinge of angst
Word Count: 2,839
When you had come to the hotel, Alastor was sure you weren’t going to last long. You avoided eye-contact with others, and your hands constantly fidgeted. You shifted on your feet, and rocked back on your heels constantly. Even when standing in one place, you couldn’t seem to be still. You seemed shifty, and he was sure you would pull something, and he would have to remove you. Alas, he was wrong. You stuck around, even if your weird tendencies only got weirder.
In the several weeks you had been residing in the hotel, not once had you initiated contact with anyone, not that he had seen. Alastor was sure you didn’t like it, until he saw Angel pick you up like a stuffed animal, and make you cuddle with him while watching the television. You had melted into the embrace, nuzzling against the soft fur of Angel’s upper shoulders. So Alastor needed to keep watching, and come up with a new explanation for your behavior.
At some point, Charlie had begged to ‘play’ with your long hair, so the two of you ended up dragging everyone into the sitting room for an impromptu ‘spa’ day. Charlie sat behind you, you were nearly in her lap, braiding one section of hair, and Vaggie was painting your claws. Angel was brushing out Husker’s fur. Niffty and Sir Pentious were talking and looking at the make up laid out across the coffee table. Alastor merely watched, amused by the group's antics every once in a while. 
He watched the way your eyes fluttered when you were embraced by the girls, and the way you seemed so at ease. Nothing seemed particularly amiss. He wondered if you hadn’t been comfortable yet, and had nearly settled with that. That was, until Angel came home, nearly in tears, one day.
“Fuck!” Angel yelled, tossing his phone harshly. It was rare for Angel Dust to have such an outward burst of anger. He always put on a show of being satisfied with his work, even when he clearly wasn’t. When Angel had settled on one of the couches, his face collapsed into his hands. “I’m so fucking tired of Val…”
Angel mumbled to himself as you entered the lobby. You glanced at Angel, and then his shattered phone. You frowned, your soft features looking nearly angry, and then picked up his phone, and made your way to him. Alastor watched from the bar, interested to see how this interaction went.
“Hey, Angie. I uh, I got your phone,” you said quietly. You sat off to the side of the couch, looking out of place, and uncomfortable. 
Angel mumbled something back, and your frown grew more severe. “I uh,” your voice trailed off, and your eyes started darting around. “Do you - do you want, like, a hug? I don’t really know what you need right now, I’m sorry.”
Alastor watches as Angel turns his head and whispers something to you. He doesn’t seem confused, not like Alastor is. He is clearly missing something. His eyes narrow, and he watches as you crawl up on the couch and awkwardly settle yourself against Angel’s side. 
How bizarre! How could you possibly not know what he needed? You were a very empathetic person, always looking out for others, and you liked being held, clearly, so how would you lack this kind of knowledge.
Alastor decides to confront you about it, at a later time. He needed to know everything about this. Perhaps it would be useful!
The next day, Alastor decides to try and get you to touch him, and then go from there. (It had been a little while since he had decided to ‘wing’ something like this. How exciting! You weren’t a bore at all!) His best bet would be to invite you to assist him for the day, so he invites you to when you’re heading down the stairs that morning.
“Ah! Just the woman I was looking for! How are you this morning, dearest?” He settles his hand on the banister, near where yours is resting, and waits.
“Oh! Good morning Alastor. I’m doing okay. What is it you needed me for?” Your smile is gentle and your demeanor open, even if you can’t keep eye-contact. 
“I was wondering if you would like to assist me today? We haven’t had much ‘bonding’ time as you and the others! I was hoping to rectify that,” he responds. He keeps his normal flair and watches you giggle at him.
“Of course, Al. It’s not like I had much going on today.” You pull back from the banister and twist to look at him better. “What do you have in mind?”
Alastor merely nods, and starts leading you down to the kitchen. “I was thinking you could assist me with breakfast, and then we can do some minor paperwork! We’ll decide what to do after that.”
You happily agree, and trail after him, leaving just enough space so you can’t ump into him. 
“We are going to make french-toast, fried green tomatoes, and ham. Should be simple enough, dear!” He snaps, and the two of you are wearing aprons. You let out a surprised laugh, and smile up at him.
“I will never get over how cool that is!” 
He waves you off, and starts pulling things out of the cabinets. He hands each one to you, waiting for you to make contact. 
Then it happens.
You jerk your hand back so fast that the whisk he’d been handing to you falls to the floor with a clatter. Your whole body seems to shrink in on yourself, and your expression collapses.
“Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You start rambling apologies, and it makes Alastor’s head cock to the side.
“Why are you sorry, dear?” His voice lilts with just the slightest amount of amusement, but you don’t seem to catch on to it. 
“I- I touched you! I’m sorry! I don’t know how to do it appropriately, and I’m sorry! You have more boundaries than the others and I just-” Your rambling starts to annoy him, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrow.
“I would tell you, if I had a problem with it,” he starts. “You don’t normally have a problem. Why is it a problem now?”
You frown, harshly. It is the first time he has seen such a negative emotion on your face. (Something in him is unsettled at the sight. He ignores it, as he often does). “What do you mean? That’s not the same!”
Alastor is now genuinely confused. It is absolutely the same! How could it not be?
You seem to catch onto his confusion, and a small growl rips from your throat in frustration. “I’m okay with people touching me first, because that’s initiating contact, and they lead the whole time. It’s easier to understand what people want, and where it is okay to touch, based on how they feel, and how they are touching me. But, but when I do it first, it’s hard to know what’s okay! I don’t have someone to mimic, and it’s- it’s hard!” Your face contorts further, and you’re palpably angry. 
“All these social rules, and stuff can be so hard sometimes! It’s easier to just not do it! How can I hurt anyone if I don’t give myself the opportunity, you know?” You sigh, and drop your upper body on the kitchen island’s counter. “It sucks,” you say, your voice muffled by the counter.
Alastor feels a modicum of sympathy. You nearly have the exact opposite problem to him. You want to touch other, craving that closeness, but don’t know how to go about it. He would rather go without it, but knows exactly how to use touch on others, especially to get what he wants.
His mind whirls with thoughts of how pathetic you seem like this. You are normally so confident! Why let this silly worry prevent you from being the best you can be? His thoughts settle on a plan before he can really acknowledge it. 
“Alright then, dearest!” Alastor smacks the counter, drawing your attention. “I have an idea. A challenge, if you will. To help you get over this silly fear of yours, I challenge you to this; you must touch me every day, at least once. Each touch must be a different kind than the last, and it can’t be for the same reason.” Alastor tilts his head at you, waiting for you to take the bait.  “You are allowed to do it without asking, and it can be as big or small as you are comfortable with, but you need to do it. If you can do this, to the point where you are comfortable hugging the others without worrying about “hurting” them, then you win.”
Your head pops up from the counter, and you narrow your eyes at him. “What do I win?”
Alastor feels his grin widen. Yes, you would be fun to play with. “A small favor. Something simple. And confidence. It’s a shame that you are being held back by something so simple!”
You huff, but nod your head. “Fine. I touch you, once a day, unsolicited, and it’s gotta be different each time, or something like that. I win when I can hug everyone else without being touched first.”
“There’s my girl,” he says, watching your whole body stiffen in response. He laughs, and picks up the whisk from the floor. “Let’s continue with breakfast, yes?”
The first time you touch him is during a “movie night” that Charlie sets up the next day. She demanded Alastor participate, despite his well known hatred of television, and everything to do with that technology. You had silently approached him as the group set up pillows and blankets on the floor around the TV, and against the couches. The two of you watched idly, before you spoke up.
“Can I sit with you,” you asked softly. 
“Of course, dear! Good company might make this terrible idea more… palatable,” Alastor grumbled. You smile at him, and laugh a little. 
“Oh, the horror. Sitting with your friends, and relaxing,” you respond, tilting your head at him. His static surges for a moment, but he says nothing in response. You laugh again, although he’s not quite sure why.
When the group finally gets settled in for the movie, and the lights are turned off, he watches you shift about in your seat. Your eyes dart around the room, and your hands fidget. It takes a few minutes, the intro to the movie already going, for you to finally look at him. You scoot closer to him, more than halfway across the couch. You wait another moment, and Alastor’s eyes don’t move from your form. He just watches you fidget with amusement. Finally, you speak up, barely a whisper.
“Hey, can- can I lean on you?” You are so hesitant, and it makes his eyebrows furrow, just the slightest. 
“Of course, dear,” he whispers back, his static barely a murmur. Your body slackens, all the tension drawn out. 
“Oh, good,” you mumble, pressing your small form against his side. It takes a few moments, but then you are completely calm against him, head pressed into his arm, your hands against his waist, and knees curled up under you and tucked against his thigh. You mumble something about him being warm, and all Alastor can do is agree. 
You are so very warm, and it has him almost anxious. He isn’t sure what about, as the room is calm, and the silly animated picture-show is easily ignored. You are so very warm, and he can feel each breath your body breathes in. He can nearly hear the soft pound of your heartbeat, even over the picture-show. His nose twitches at your scent. He will have to take a far-too hot bath later to remove it. It’s fine, though. It’s all part of the game. 
Alastor ignores that you’ve fallen asleep on him. It’s for the best.
The next day, you offer him a “fist-bump”, which he doesn’t understand. You laugh, and explain the gesture, and show him how it looks.
“You do it when you did something cool, or when you’re having fun with your friends.” You smile at him and constantly gesture with your hands while you talk. It keeps his attention quite easily. “Ah, here, let’s see if you understand. What was the last cool thing you did? It can be whatever.”
Alastor thinks over the last few days exploits, and shrugs. “I made a sinner cry by merely looking at him, this morning.” 
You go stock still before bursting out laughing. “Really? Oh my gosh. Seriously, fist-bump,” and you offer your knuckles. Alastor hesitantly returns the gesture, knocking your hands together. However clumsily it was done, it makes your smile wider. “Nice! Yeah, that’s exactly how you do it!”
If he tries the gesture on the others later on, he never tells you. Charlie got a kick out if, though. He refuses to tell her who told him about it. 
One day, you’re assisting Niffty cleaning, but can’t reach a spot way too high for either of you to get. Neither of you can find a ladder, and Alastor is watching with a far too delighted smile. When you spot him, you smile mischievously.
“Alastoorrrrr,” You call, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Come here. Please.”
He strides over, not letting his hesitance show. “What can I do for you, my dear?”
“Can I get up on your shoulders? I need to be able to reach that spot with the duster.” You point up at where you need to dust. He looks over at it, and realizes you are definitely not getting  up there without help.
Alastor cocks his head at you, thinking over the logistics, and then nods. He kneels down, and feels you pull yourself onto his back, propping each leg over his shoulders. When you are still, hands gently around his neck, he stands up straight. He feels you wobble and then balance with a laugh. Your hands let go of him. He feels each breath and laugh and words from you gently vibrate his head with how close the two of you are. 
“I’m so tall! Hahah! This is great! I wish I was always this tall, haha!” You keep laughing, and readjust your duster, pointing at your destination. “Onwards, my steed!”
Alastor rolls his eyes at your antics, but obliges, standing closer to where you need to be. Niffty is squealing, and it’s making you laugh harder. Alastor joins in at some point, and then the three of you are running around the first floor of the hotel, terrorizing the others with your hijinks.
Alastor thinks, privately, that you make him laugh over the little things, something that he hasn’t done in a while. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.
It’s several weeks after the challenge had been initiated, that he finds you hiding in a side-closet. Alastor isn’t sure how he knew you would be there, but the discovery throws him. You’re crying. Nearly bawling your eyes out, and you look uncomfortable with the way your small body is curled into a tight ball, surrounded by cleaning supplies. 
“Oh, hey, Al,” you say, your voice rough. “How’d you find me?”
“Just needed to follow the sound of despair, apparently, my dear,” he responds without a thought. He nearly winces when his words process, and he shakes his head. “I’m not sure, dear. Whatever are you doing in there?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Something upset me, but I can’t remember what.” Your voice trails off, and you look at where you have situated yourself. You huff, and pull yourself out with a grunt.
You dust off your knees, and the back of your pants, frowning. “Sorry you had to see that, haha.” You try to muster a smile, but Alastor sees right through it. “Right.”
Alastor simply watches as you shut the closet door, and try and calm yourself down. 
“Gosh, I feel dumb.” You frown at the ground, and sigh. “Alright. Can I have a hug?”
Alastor’s eyebrows raise. Oh. You were finally ready to hug him. How interesting. 
“Of course, dear.” He opens his arms, not even bothering to check for others seeing the interaction. You rub your face, and then step between his arms. You wrap yourself around him, loose at first, and then you embrace him hard. His arms fall around you, and he pulls you in close. His head settles on top of yours. 
You are still so warm, and you smell wonderful; something comforting, something familiar. Your heart thrums against your ribs, and he can feel it pounding. His ears twitch at every soft sound. 
This is nice. Although there is still time, part of him mourns the day you are ready to win his challenge. He supposes he can enjoy each little bit of connection the two of you have, until then. 
Taglist: @numetalnerd2007 @girl-nahh-two Remember, you can be added to my taglist by replying to the tagged post on my page!
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runningfrom2am · 1 month
Text
cold nights // part thirty-two
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summary: the end.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n:
the end!! omg!!guys thank you so much for being here through this whole story and this was LONG!! over 110k words of a lot of nonsense but to anyone who's made it this far,, ilysm. i'm gonna miss them!! stop they were everything to me :(
ANYWAY same with LTPF if you've read that, there will be an epilogue coming soon and also definitely more oneshots and maybe bonus content that i wish i included in the original series but just didn't make the cut. so stay tuned for that!!
if you liked this series, i'm obligated as well to plug my NEXT series that's coming soon, 'requiem'!! i am so excited about it so please follow me for updates on when that will be posted!! def soon!!
just one more time i wanted to say ily, and thank you :')
see you soon!
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board
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You keep your books tucked firmly to your chest as you walk into your first class, wearing the spare clothes you brought to Sejanus's house on Friday just in case you had to change. In case you spilled something on your white dress, or just felt the need to change- ironically enough.
Your normal seat in the front centre of the room is obviously free, considering also that you were quite early this morning. You had some readings you needed to catch up on anyway, in order to be prepared for midterms which were apparently coming up quickly.
It isn't long after you open your book before others begin to shuffle in, and much to your surprise, you feel the chair next to you pull back and see someone sit down. "Hi, Victor." The boy's voice says, forcing you to look up from your book.
Dark hair and dark eyes, you think you remember his name was Cancor. "Oh, my name is Y/N." You correct him kindly, adjusting nervously in your seat.
"I know that." He says, eyes merely slits as he seems to look past your own eyes and into your soul.
"You're... You're Cancor, correct? I don't believe we've properly met." You add, sitting up straighter.
"Crane." He states. "My last name is Crane."
"That's... yes that's a lovely name." You smile nervously, unsure what to say but still wanting to fill the silence he seemed so comfortable with. "Alliteration is such a fun thing to consider when naming a child..."
"It means spider." He states. "Did you ever meet my sister?" He asks, ignoring your nervous ramblings.
"No, no I don't believe I have. What is her name?" You ask.
"Arachne." The boy says, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly while you take a moment to wrack your mind to place it. He's acting as if you should know her, and suddenly you feel like you do.
You tilt your head slightly, allowing the memory to hit you like a freight train.
The funeral.
All you really remembered until now was being chained to a truck and paraded down the street you now recognize as the Corso, the body of his sister's tribute swinging above you while people screamed and cursed at you. Then, Coryo sang the national anthem.
"Oh, yes. Of course." You nod slightly, a frown settling over your features. "I am so sorry for your loss. Truly."
"No, you're not." He spits. "You don't care, and the fact that you're pretending to is just vile. She meant less than nothing to you and those animals- otherwise, she would still be here!"
You stammer, pushing yourself back in your seat as you grip the bottom of the chair. "No, no- I am sorry, I am. That should not have happened. It- It was horrible."
"Cancor." You silently thank the universe for your professor's quick intervention. "If you wouldn't mind returning to your usual seat and leaving Miss Y/L/N alone."
"We were just talking." Cancor replies, suddenly sweet as honey- cool and collected as if he wasn't just berating you over your faults in his sister's death.
"Go." Dr. Nero tells him again, nodding up toward the back of the lecture hall. "Before I am forced to ask you to leave."
The boy sighs in quiet frustration, slightly aggressive about his movements as he grabs his bag and stomps up the stairs.
You look up to your professor who greets the look with a curt nod and the smallest of sympathetic smiles.
It does nothing to quell the lightness you feel that usually signifies the trembling of your hands, which would soon spread. You close your eyes trying to take deep breaths that wouldn't come, but all you can see is the bodies of Arachne Crane and her tribute by the bars that had separated them. You have to open your eyes to remind yourself you aren't standing in the street, wrists still shackled to a truck. You can feel the chains weighing your wrists down to the desk as you think about it. You had almost entirely forgotten about the whole event- and the guilt of that was suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Cancor had never had the privilege of forgetting the way you had.
Quickly, you shove your books into your bag and stand, heading for the door. "Y/N." Dr. Nero's voice forces you to stop and you just turn to look at him, knowing full well you're unable to speak. "It's 8:58."
You nod slightly, looking down at the marble flooring that lay between you. "Start without me." You mumble, not giving him the chance to respond before you're leaving, accidentally bumping shoulders with some of the final students to enter.
You hadn't missed a single class yet, attendance was important, but right now you couldn't care less. Why should you even have the privilege of attending classes at the university in place of some of the academy's brightest minds who never got the chance? Like Arachne, and the three other mentors who were killed because of the games. You knew it wasn't necessarily your fault, but you understood Cancor's anger being directed at you. In a twisted way, you felt like you deserved it. They were meant to survive, you never were. Yet, here you were- a walking reminder to those students' friends and families that for some reason, they had to lose someone they shouldn't have.
You quickly pace down the nearly empty hall, trying to hold back your tears as long as you could. Feeling like you can't breathe is making it exponentially harder, and you wonder how you even walked out of the arena as it was. Adrenaline is a crazy beast- and you wished you had some leftover now. Sometimes, in moments like this, you wonder if you had used up your life's supply of the chemical the last time you were here in the Capitol.
Coryo was already running late after spending probably far too long conversing with your brother in the car, but he couldn't resist taking a detour into the arts building. He would just pass through, past your room just to glance inside and see if you were really there. Just to get a look at you.
He doesn't need to, though, turning a corner and just catching a glimpse of your hair as you disappear with a left turn at the end of the corridor. He was sure it was you.
Walking past your classroom he looks anyway, just to double-check, and as he suspected, you were gone.
He quickens his pace, taking advantage of his height difference over you to try and catch up with more rushed steps. "Y/N?" He calls out as he turns the same corner, but you're already hidden from view and the door at the far end of the hall is slamming shut.
As he continues down the corridor, a furrow knits its way into his brow. You must be headed to where you normally eat lunch, that is all that would make sense.
Without thinking, he follows. The courtyard is almost empty, aside from your frame curled up on the grass, knees tucked to your chest and bag discarded halfheartedly beside you on the damp grass. The sun casts a shadowed glow where it isn't blocked by trees or buildings in its path of rising, the grass is wet under his shoes as he quickly approaches you.
"Hey- hey, Y/N/N, it's me." He calls out as he walks up behind you. You turn your head, and then stand quickly.
"It- It's okay. I'm fine." You stammer, wiping your cheeks frantically. "You should g-go, you're already late."
"I'm not leaving you like this." He shakes his head, holding a hand out toward you as you avoid his eyes. "Tell me what happened, love. Talk to me."
You shake your head, shoulders backed to an invisible wall as you hold your palms over your face. You can't look at him right now- especially right now, when all you want is for him to hold you.
"You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." He whispers, taking a hesitant step closer. By now, you know full well he wouldn't hurt you. Not in the way he's saying, at least.
"You should go." You choke over the words that feel heavy in your mouth.
"Y/N, love, I told you, I'm not going anywhere." He repeats calmly.
"I want to go home." You sob. "I shouldn't have won, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't even be alive!" You say, voice picking up in frustration. "It's not fair. Nothing is fair, nothing."
He frowns as you lower your hands, clenching your fists at your sides. "Of course, you should be here."
"You don't get it!" You snap, and you hardly even sound like yourself.
This was it. This was your breaking point.
Coryo is taken back by your outburst, almost flinching at the abruptness of your shift. He had never seen you angry- he didn't even know it was possible. Of course it was. He'd spent all this time, all this energy trying to convince people that you were human. Anger comes with that, hand in hand like your cat and the fur that's clinging to his clothes at this very moment. You couldn't have one without the other. "Then explain it to me." He urges you, trying to sound anything other than defensive.
Your eyes soften, as if you're suddenly realizing that your anger was not entirely placed on him. You shake your head. "It's not... I cannot explain it and that is the worst part." You sigh, but the rage flashes in your eyes again as you look down. "Why was it me and not any of them? Why did so many of your classmates have to die? Why did Marcus escape only to face a worse fate than the rest of us, when he tried to help me too? Why am I enrolled at this stuffy university when my spot belongs to Arachne Crane in rights?"
"Arachne Crane?" Coryo mutters, eyes widening with confusion while he wonders where on earth that came from. He shakes his head quickly to dismiss the thought. "Marcus tried to save you, yes, that could have been you who escaped, that's true- but you were too busy trying to save me. And you did." He knows better than to accuse you of regretting that. He knows you don't.
When you don't reply, just staring at him head on now, frustrated and confused, he continues. "If we're going by this unexplainable logic of the universe, I think that it was you because instead of saving yourself, you saved me. And you did it again in the arena, when you went back for Jessup when I was looking at the screen and begging you silently to just ditch him. Same exact thing when you tried to get little Wovey up into the rafters with you, and hell! When you stared down the barrel of my gun, shaking head to toe from fear just to save the life of the Mayor's daughter, who was nothing but awful to everyone!" He says, gesticulating wildly to get his point across. "I've been trying to tell you for months, Y/N. It was you because you are the only person in this whole damn country who cares about someone other than themselves."
You just shake your head, and it's frustrating to him that you're unwilling to accept what he knows to be true. "It didn't work." You sniff. "You're the only one who survived me."
"Listen to me," Coryo says, reaching out and holding your face in his hands- throwing caution to the wind regarding how he knows to handle your panic attacks. "I survived because I had to learn how to love you."
You look into his eyes, flitting your own back and forth between them in an attempt to place any signs of deception. Blue, baby blue. You find none.
"And I did. And I'll love you every day for the rest of our lives. I don't want you to think for a minute that I'm embarrassed by that fact." Your eyes are squeezed shut by the time he finishes speaking, his thumbs swiping over the tear stains left down your cheeks by anger.
"It's not your fault." You mumble, shaking your head under his hold. "I do not fault you for being embarrassed."
"I'm not." He says again. "Look at me, please, love."
You pry your eyes open to face him.
"I've... I've had all this pressure my whole life to be perfect, and now it's worse than ever and I should have never let that get pushed onto you. I want you to be happy, that's all. I want you to be free to do whatever you want, and right now, the cost of that comes with who we are in public. Do you understand?"
"Yes." You say softly, but he can see that's not fully true.
"Here, in the Capitol, everything is a social ladder. We cannot marry who we wish, we marry who we should. Rarely ever do kids here date for fun."
"Like Lucy Gray and the silly mistakes she made over and over again with Billy Taupe." You comment, trying to lighten the tension you feel radiating off his body.
"Yes." He chuckles, smiling hopefully at you, relieved that you understood. "But I want nothing more on this earth than for you to be the one I spend my life with. I want to make you happy, but first, in order to do that, you have to be someone that they will accept. And I am so, so sorry I didn't explain this to you sooner, but I want you to know I've never wanted you to change."
"We don't need them to like me to be happy. That will be an endless uphill battle, Coryo." You shake your head slightly, placing your hands over his as they slide down onto your neck.
"It will be uphill but we can do it." He assures you quickly. "You're already well-liked, we're-"
"Were you not happy in Twelve?" You ask, a sad look in your eyes.
He stops, tilting his head slightly at you. He was happy in Twelve, now that he considers it. He hadn't thought about it, he was so focused on hating everything but you that he just assumed it was awful, but really, it wasn't. Not in hindsight."Is that what you want?"
You smile in response. No one had asked in months what you wanted. What you really wanted.
"What do you want, love? I'll pack up and move us back to Twelve tomorrow if that's what you really want." He says again, nothing short of desperation in his tone.
Faced with the option, you're really not sure. Yes, of course, you'd like to go home. It was very tempting. But Coryo was right, this education was important. You imagine for a moment the life you could have back home if you stuck it out a few more years. And maybe by then, you'll be better accepted here. Maybe by then, the Capitol will be a different place, and you'll be truly happy here. With him, and he will have the power to make the games go away.
"No, no." You shake your head. "I want to do something splendid...something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it and mean to astonish you all someday." You say, and he can tell from your change in notation that the words are not your own. It was something new, unlike what he had heard from you before. He smiles. "I want to be with you, first and foremost."
"You'll always be with me. Where you go, I follow." He assures you. "I was happy in Twelve, if only because I had you."
"That should not be enough, though." You insist.
"It has been for you, hasn't it?" He asks, and you nod, biting your tongue.
He grins. "Then I promise, love, that would be more than enough for me."
"O-okay." You agree, suddenly flushed by his stare. Coryo smiles, looking briefly at your lips as you speak. To him, they seemed more tempting now than ever.
He starts to lean in and you move your head back quickly, a worried look crossing your face and you look around. "Coryo, we-"
"I don't care." He says quickly, gently pulling you back to him and pressing his lips to yours. Consequences are the last thing on his mind right now.
You take hold of the front of his delicately pressed shirt, pulling him closer with his hands on your neck. Here, in the middle of the university courtyard with the sun shining down on your back, everything is okay and at least for now, the cold night has given way to a warm, sunny morning.
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taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss
okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!
also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)
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russellsppttemplates · 3 months
Text
It's just the beggining (Oscar Piastri)
Oscar hasn't done or said anything, so you're taking matters into your own hands
Note: english is not my first language. It's my first Oscar piece and I'm nervous posting this, but hopefully you enjoy it! 🫶
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: mentions reader's grandparents' health issues, mentions the situation with McLaren and Daniel, insomnia
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Hey, Y/N!", James called you once he saw you walk by his classroom, "hey", you greeted back, adjusting your books on your arms.
"There is a new kid, I'm sure you know, Oscar Piastri his name is, and apparently he's staying the long weekend too, like you", he trailed off, not knowing if he was stepping further than he should.
"Yes, I am staying, it's okay to talk about it", you gave him tight lipped smile, "well, I was hoping you'd keep him company - he's a bit shy, but he's very fun to be around and the teacher also thought it would be good since you're both staying", he reasoned as you nodded.
You had to stay back because your grandparents didn't live in England, and because of their old age and problems that naturally arose with that, your parents had to fly out and spend sometime with them, meaning you didn't have anyone back home, so you stayed. As for Oscar, you found out that he was staying back because his family was in Melbourne.
"At first, I just had online schooling, but it got trickier to manage and my dad needed to go back to work so I had to stay back", he explained when you asked him why he was there, "and I hope I can focus on racing, but you already know that", he scoffed softly.
"I don't think I do, I'm sorry", you narrowed your eyes, genuinely unaware of what he was talking about.
After he told you all about his career until that moment, as well as his hopes and dreams, he chuckled, "you really didn't know?", he wondered.
"I didn't! The girls said something about you moving here but I didn't listen much, I'm not that into gossip and my memory is like Dory's, I can never keep up with the latest who likes who and who flirted with what's his face", you earnestly replied.
For the first time since he arrived at the school, he felt like he could really trust someone and he could hope for new friendships on this side of the world.
You were there for his final race in F4, clapping at him on the podium, and even F3 and F2 despite your university deadlines, always making sure you could support him in every way you could.
"Hey, Osc", you said over the phone, setting your pen down the desk and swivelling in the chair. You wanted to get as much knowledge and experience as possible, so you applied to do a internship in a physiotherapy clinic near your apartment during the summer.
"Hey, Y/N, how are you doing?", he asked as you could notice the antsyness on his voice.
"I'm good, it's a bit of a slow day here, my supervisor said I could read up on a few articles", you mused, "is everything okay?", you asked.
"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight", he began, "you can come to my flat if that's okay, I'll order something in since I can't be trusted in the kitchen", he suggested.
"Fine by me, I'd like that, sounds really nice", you smiled, "I'll see you soon, then", you added, not wanting to dwell much on the fact that he didn't answer your question.
When you left the clinic, you walked to Oscar's place since the sun had graced you for the day and it was still nice to be out. Knocking on the door, you waited for him to open it, "I'm still in my scrubs as I didn't see the need to change", you said as you walked inside, hugging Oscar after dropping your backpack on the floor.
"Hey, you look nice, don't worry about it", he smiled as he led you to the living room, "I had to go and get the take out myself, but it's still warm", he said as you sat at the dining table.
"Now can you tell me if there's something wrong?", you wondered as you poured some of the wine he kept for you at his place on your glass.
"I have something to tell you actually", he played with his glass while he fought the smile on his lips, "this weekend I finally had some conversations with McLaren", he began.
"McLaren?", you asked as you served yourself of the food in front of you, taking some bimi brocoli and then some of the warm noodles.
"Yes, McLaren. We finally spoke about contracts and, this morning, I signed the official driver contract for next season", he stated as if he was saying that the sun had been out today.
"You did what? Since when has this been in the works?", you gasped, dropping the kitchen utensils and looking at him intently, "you're driving for McLaren next season?", he nodded, "like, driving on track? Oh my Goodness, Oscar! That's amazing!", you got up and hugged him, "why didn't you lead with that?", you pinched the nape of his neck playfully as you kept the tears from falling from your eyes. This was his dream and he was getting to live it as early as the end of the year when pre season preparations began.
"I didn't want to tell you over the phone", he shrugged his shoulders.
"But how? This is huge, Oscar!", you smiled, your teeth showing and eyes squinting with how high your cheeks rose.
"There were a lot of conversations about it, specially the last few weeks", Oscar explained, "they still want to keep it quiet", he warned.
"So you're driving alongside Lando?", you wondered. You only followed motorsport and the Formula series because of your bestfriend, so the assumption you made was based on what you had seen and read.
"Yes, hence why they want to keep it quiet, I've only told you and my family", he mentioned, "my manager knows that, obviously, but I really need you to keep quiet about it", he smiled.
"Absolutely, don't worry!", you assured, "this is so amazing Oscar! You're going to drive in Formula One! Aren't you amazed?", you beamed.
"I put in the work too, you know?", he dramatically feigned offense as you hugged him tighter, "this is your dream, Osc", you cooed, letting the tears fall freely down your cheeks as you swayed you both around, "I'm so proud of you", you hiccuped, holding his head close to your lips so you could kiss his forehead.
"Let's eat, this is getting cold", your best friend urged as the situation for more intimate and brought you closer and closer to the thing he had been avoiding for nearly a year.
The feelings he had been arbouring for you weren't just friendship. How could he keep himself from being in love with you? You had been there with him and for him when he was alone in a new country, being the other shy kid that spent the long weekend im boarding school, and since then you had been attached by the hip. You were kind, caring, intelligent, beautiful inside and outside and anyone would be a fool to not see why Oscar felt the way he did about you.
.
"I'm just going to a training camp, Y/N, I do these every year!", Oscar reasoned as you groaned.
"Who am I going to complain to about university? Or how noisy my neighbours are? I'm going to die of boredom", you stated, "when you come back, I will have ceased to exist because of boredom and lack of attention", you exaggeratedly threw yourself on your sofa.
"You won't, silly", he chuckled, pulling you up since his trainer was picking him up soon, "you're going to go out and enjoy yourself, okay? You'll barely notice I'm gone", he tried as you helped him with his suitcases down to the door.
"I'll miss you", you muttered as you hugged him, "enjoy your training camp!", you smiled as you pulled away, waving at him before you made your way to your place.
Getting on with the project you had to hand in at the end of the week, you got it all through to the end, leaving time to proofread later.
You clicked on the folder where you kept your photos and videos, looking through them and reliving all of the memories you had in there.
Most of them had Oscar somehow, wether it was a screen grab from one of your FaceTime calls when he was at races, picnics in the park and lazy days at your place.
You had to admit it, for your sake and Oscar's sake as your friendship was on the line. At first you thought it was just the fact that a boy seemed to want to spend time with you, so you put it to that. Recently, however, things changed perspective and you felt stronger feelings and emotions when you thought about him.
You loved spending time with him and cherished every single hour he chose to spend with you whenever he didn't have racing related duties. Every time he hugged you, you clung just a little longer to feel hia body against yours and his arms enveloping you.
Whenever someone approached you in the rare times you went out clubbing with your friends, "I have a boyfriend" became more a wish and a need rather than some made up excuse to get guys to leave you alone.
So, to sum it up, you either had an honest conversation with him or continued to dwell on feelings you couldn't keep to yourself.
.
"Y/N just sent me a picture of her notes, can you believe they ask them to know all of that?", he showed his trainer Kim while they had lunch after a strenuous workout.
"I had to learn most of that, too", he said nonchalantly, not necessarily diminishing your competences and intelligence but letting Oscar know that maybe his infatuation with you had a source elsewhere.
"Y/N is very smart, I'm sure she'll do really well - oh, she sent me a picture, she's all dressed up!", he said as he inspected the mirror picture. He assumed it was a requirement for your presentation, as you usually preferred comfy attire, since you had a pair of trousers and a shirt, some small heels on your feet and your bright smile that left him feeling butterflies in his stomach every single time, "she looks gorgeous", he said as he texted you the same words along with wishes of good luck.
"Something you'd like to say?", Oscar quesioned when he felt Kim's eyes on him as he put the phone back on the table, screen down.
"I'm just here wondering why you're not together", the trainer offered simply after he wiped his mouth on the napkin.
"No, we are not together, at least not yet", he mused. The thought had crossed his mind, admitting how he felt about you before the season began. If everything went belly up and you didn't feel the same and didn't see him that way, he would occupy his time and channel all of his energy into racing; if you did feel the same, he would have been worrying for nothing and would have a extra spring up his step for his first season in Formula One.
"Good to know you're working on it", Kim waved his fork at Oscar, "now we need to finish this and we'll do some recovery stretches", he announced as Oscar groaned, prolonging his meal as long as he could.
.
Today, Oscar was coming back from Lanzarote and you couldn't wait to speak to him. Lately, it all dawned on you.
It happened a couple of nights ago, a slight insomnia episode keeping you up when you thought about what things would be like from now on. Oscar would travel a lot more, and he would be in a much public role compared to his previous one. It would seem stupid to other people, but a lot more people would know him, and you were sure they would fall in love with him. How could they not? Hence why you wanted to quit those thoughts while you were ahead of them.
I'm on the cab to your place, it should take another 10 minutes and Can't wait to see you, Oscar texted you just as you finished tidying your living room.
You missed him dearly, so when you threw yourself into his arms, you didn't let go as he kicked his suitcases into your apartment while still holding close to him, "I kind of need to get my backpack off my back, and I can't do that if I don't set you somewhere - only for a bit at the very least", Oscar suggested after trying to balance you against his body with one arm but he didn't feel safe enough to let you go without you falling.
Reluctantly, you got back down, feet back on the floor as he discarded his backpack before he tapped your hip twice, "up again, I want a proper hug", he mumbled as you jumped back, his hands protectively holding your thighs up as he nuzzled his face on your neck, "I need you so, so much", he sighed.
"I missed you too", you replied back, "and I don't ever want to miss you like this when I don't know how to feel about you", you forwarded. Now or never, you thought as you jumped out of his hold and faced him.
"I missed you like I have never missed you before, not even when you go a visit your family or when you went away for triple headers - and I've been trying to understand why and I finally realised what it was. I like you, more than friends like eachother - for Goodness' sake, I'm in love with you", you chuckled nervously as you admitted it out loud to him, "and everyone else will love you too - I just know it -, so soon enough you won't be my Osc anymore and I couldn't not tell you. People - and these gorgeous girls all over the world - are going to like you so much and I won't be able to compete with them, so I'm just telling you how I feel. You can leave if you want or we'll just stay here in silence of that works too, but I needed to admit my feelings", you let out in one go.
Oscar smiled, a big teeth and gums showing smile as his eyes crinkled at your words, "I'm not leaving, and we are not going to be silent - at least immediately - because I want to tell you how I feel", he began, "I'm in love with you too; I have been for about two years and only realised it a year ago, and I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to be able to kiss you, to hug you, to take you with me wherever possible, to sleep next to you, to argue with you, I want all of it. With you", he said, hand cupping your cheek as his eyes asked for consent to kiss your lips.
It was as you dreamed it would be, soft, gentle and caring, lips moving in sync as you held him by his waist, pulling him closer to you.
"I thought I was loosing you to the whole F1 fandom", you chuckled, looking up at him once you pulled away.
"Of course you won't, you're my best girl", he winked, "this is just the beggining for us", he added as he pulled you to cuddle on the sofa, sharing his stories of the past days as you revelled in the feeling of being in his arms.
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spaceshipellie · 11 months
Text
everything’s about you to me
ellie williams x reader
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prologue (masterlist for other parts) *✧・゚: wc: 1.7k
summary: in the midst of the apocalypse, you and ellie find each other after you’ve both lost everything. what started out as a mere safety in numbers pairing, turns into something imperishable. however, after some time you get separated, leaving you both to believe the other is dead. four years later you find a commune in wyoming.
warnings: set in tlou universe. reader is 16 in the prologue but is 19+ for the rest of the story, weapons, gunshots, death, violence, no mention of ellie yet but all in due course cuties, is this going to be a slow burn? maybe… 18+ mdni
author’s note: this fic was originally inspired by the song everything by muna. i’m so excited for this, if you want to be added to the tag list lmk! i have no idea how many parts this will be but i expect it’ll be quite long. thanks for reading loves &lt;3
♪ ‘cause the world could be burning, and all i’d be thinking, is “how are you doing, baby?”
˚ · • . ° .
You didn’t know it yet, but your time in the Pittsburgh QZ was wearing thin. You had lived there your entire life, sixteen years to be exact. For people who lived pre-outbreak, a military-controlled quarantine zone probably didn’t seem like much of a home, but it was all you knew. Your dad was a smuggler and whilst for the past few years had managed to keep you and your mom out of it, his current job was proving to be riskier than originally anticipated.
“You said it would be quick,” you heard his seething whisper whilst you backed yourself against the other side of the wall, listening in.
“It was supposed to be! look, man, I’m sorry,” another man’s voice said.
“Just–fuck, just make sure we get the stuff we need before we hand anything over, alright?”
“We’ll try.”
“No,” you could hear shoving, “you will, understand?”
“Yes,” you could tell the man was nervous despite trying to hide it.
“If this goes wrong, they’ll come after us, and my family. I know this is a fucked up situation and I should never have got involved with that fucking Aaron guy in the first place but here we are and I am not letting my wife and daughter die because of me, got it?”
Die? Your blood ran cold wondering what on earth your dad had gotten involved with this time. You heard the man mumble out a “yes” before the door shut and your dad sighed and banged his fist against the table. Not wanting to get caught, you creeped back to your room.
Once inside, you settled into the beat-up armchair that you had pushed against the window and stared out at the night sky. Stars twinkled and the moon shone a bright white. For a moment, you could pretend you were somewhere else. Somewhere where everything looked this beautiful. It was a stark contrast to the withered frame of dust and peeling paint.
You could hear muffled voices coming from your parent’s room. They sounded like they were arguing and said something about talking to this Aaron guy on the radio. They did that a lot these days. argue. You knew they still loved each other but after silently analysing their relationship over the years, you could see that something of a ‘spark’ had gone. Then again, what did you know, it’s not like you had ever been in love. The closest you had ever gotten to a connection with anyone had been with Amy. When her hair would get caught in her mouth as you both stood on a roof laughing at how the wind parachuted your coats, you wanted to reach out and untangle it for her. Sometimes she would give you this look where her eyes would soften and her dimples would make themselves known as she smiled. It would make your heart skip a beat and you would forget what you were supposed to be doing. You guessed that’s just how best friend’s felt about each other. Completely lost in a trance, you didn’t notice the sound of thundering footsteps down the hall until a rough hand grabbed your arm.
“What?”
“We’re leaving,” your dad’s voice was indignant and stern.
“Leaving? where?”
Your mom burst through the door, her face soaked in fear.
“Charlie, please,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm.
“I’m sorry but we have to go.”
“Go where?” you demanded. You could feel the goosebumps raise on your arms. He couldn’t be talking about escaping, could he?
“We’re leaving the QZ. Come on, grab your stuff.” You just froze.
“Come on!” he yelled before running a hand over his face. He collected his anger just enough to look you in the eye and speak clearly.
“I don’t have time to explain, but some guys have fucked me over and it is safer for us to escape and leave.”
“But we’ll be killed!”
“We will be if we stay here. Now please, grab your stuff.”
His last three words came out with a bite and you thought better of arguing further. You looked across the room to your mum and she made a poor attempt at giving you a comforting look. Tears stung against your waterline and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve before grabbing your things together. Not everything of course. Not the Thelma and Louise poster you found once or the sketch Amy had drawn of the two of you before she died. But the essentials. Torches, jackets, guns, knives.
Your dad looked out the window, making a mental note of military whereabouts, before encouraging you and your mum out the door. You didn’t want to leave. You had never been outside the QZ and had only heard horror stories. Thoughts of where you would go once you got out, if you got out, clouded your mind. It scared you to think of what kind of trouble your dad had gotten himself into that needed such drastic action. You knew he did bad things but you knew he wasn’t the only one and there wasn’t much you could do about it. When he first started smuggling you had been afraid all the time, but over the years you became numb to it. That’s just what he did. But now all of those fears were resurfacing and you weren’t ready to face the high chance that you could die tonight.
The three of you were pressed against the outside wall, your dad in front holding his finger to his lips indicating you needed to be quiet. Your parent’s both held guns whilst you clutched your switchblade. It was dark but blinding lights from patrolling tanks occasionally illuminated the dank alleyways.
“We need to get over there, we move on my signal,” you could barely hear your dad’s whisper as he pointed at a metal fence on the other side of the road. You tried your best to be silent but couldn’t help the way your breath shook as you nodded.
After peering around the corner once more, he lifted his hand up, signalling for you to follow him. You had to be agile in order to make it across safely, which luckily was a strength of yours. You may not have ever been outside of the QZ but you had snuck around with Amy enough times to know how to go unnoticed. This was nothing like that though. Sneaking around and being teenagers didn’t feel like a death sentence.
You bumped into your mom’s back as you all suddenly stopped behind a parked truck. It started to rain and you were thankful that the splatters of water might cover up any sounds of laboured breaths and footsteps from you. A bright light casted over the truck as you strained to keep your head below the window. You were moving again and the fence was in sight. The closer you got the more you could make out a chained padlock on a gate. A menacing sign saying “UNAUTHORISED EXITS FROM A QUARANTINE ZONE ARE PUNISHABLE BY DEATH” was hung up next to your heads. Your palms began to sweat as your dad pulled a key from his pocket. You didn’t even want to know what he must have done to get that. He started to unlock and unwind the chains from the gate. You were so close. Maybe this insane plan would actually work.
“Drop your weapons.”
You all froze and slowly turned, initially to squint as a torch shone directly in your eyes. After a few blinks, your vision cleared to see a guard holding up a gun. You felt like you were choking and if anything the grip on your knife tightened instinctively.
“I said drop your weapons.”
You threw your switchblade to the ground. Your parent’s followed suit with their guns. The guard took a step closer.
“Let me exp–,” your dad attempted to reason but was cut off.
“On your knees and put your hands on your head.”
You glanced at your mom and she hesitantly nodded. You sunk to your knees, the cold, wet gravel soaking through your jeans to your skin. Your hands trembled as you placed them on your head. The guard, still aiming his gun at you, checked you all with the infection scanner before stepping back to his original spot.
“Sir, I’ve got three clean but armed people here by gate three. How would you like me to proceed?” he spoke into his handheld transceiver.
“Uh-huh… yes… yes sir.”
Before you could even think, two deafening gunshots went off in quick succession. Your head snapped round and you saw your dad pointing a gun at the guard, as well as a mass of blood soaking his shirt. You noticed the guard stumble and in a blind rush of adrenaline you snatched your switchblade from the floor. Your mom’s hand grabbed you, pulling you back from where the guard was aiming his gun again.
Another bullet fired. Your mom screamed. You grabbed her arm to support her and looked up at your dad for help.
“Go!” he yelled, firing again. You could hear more guards charging towards you.
“Dad,” your voice came out weak and strangled.
“I said go!” you had never heard his voice be this frightening. Fear carried your legs as you pushed your mom through the open gate. You shoved yourself through it as well, not knowing what lay ahead in the darkness before you. You could only focus on getting away from the constant gunshots. You didn’t stop moving but your movements had slowed as you looked back.
“Dad, please!” you yelled, tears making your cheeks hot.
He was being pushed against the fence by three, maybe four faceless guards. You could hear the struggle in his distant grunts as he fought against them. They were beating and shooting until his body went limp on the ground, next to the guard he shot.
“No,” your voice was a mere whisper to yourself. Shock and disbelief ringing in your ears.
“We have to go,” your mom pulled you away, she was crying too, “before they catch up to us.”
You both frantically ran whilst the adrenaline was still controlling you. Your mom groaned with each step. You didn’t even know where she had been hit but at least she was alive. You had got out and there didn’t seem to be anyone chasing you, but your dad was dead. Escaping seemed so futile now. It had been his idea. his plan. His doing that meant you needed to leave in the first place and yet it had ended like this. And now, to no avail, you had no protection. Nothing except what you carried on your back. You were out in the big wide world. A big, wide, terrifying world.
*✧・゚: taglist: @bellasfavelesbo @ximtiredx @abbyily @heartzjules @gold-dustwomxn @sawaagyapong @aouiaa @pinkigirl @nil-eena @ucannotcompare @cherriesxinthespring @blvebanisters
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cursedhaglette · 4 months
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Shoutout Sunday
it is so freaking kind of @littlejuicebox and @tallymonster to tag my work in their shoutout posts, so i wanted to add my own recs of fics i am currently wishing I could leave 1000 kudos on.
also fair warning, i'm a long fic girl. give me an OC to be obsessed, someone i can imagine my own hanging out with, and hopefully one that their author is also obsessed with. i wanna feel that through the writing. and with these, you can.
Pieces Left Stuck in Your Teeth by @howlsmovinglibrary / @wetcatspellcaster - i couldn't put this down when i started it, to the point i was reading it in the car when i should have been grocery shopping. i couldn't stop. it is witty always, devastating at times, and this version of Astarion is just terrible and hilarious in all the best ways
Not Your Sweetheart by @kittenintheden - the most natural dialogue I've ever read, and also the most hilarious. kitten also has such a talent for writing every character in a way that has me laughing each time anyone in her fic speaks. unless it hurts, in which case, it's gonna hurt a LOT
I Want to be Better; Let's Make Each Other Worse by @redrook - my frequent writing bud who's ideas outdo my own more often that not, Jack is an absolute genius and their fic shows it with every word written. the strange ox like you've never seen him before, dolphin riding, ceiling sex - you name it, it's in here AND it makes sense
Pour One Out by the absolutely delicious mind of @aevallare - auristarion supremacy for always. we all know kindred but if you aren't also reading Pour One Out you are, unfortunately, a fool
Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal by @brain-rot-central - neech is doing something truly different with this devastating and delicious A!A piece. and for it to be her first long fic??! the talent is insane
Made for This by @olivedrop - Olive's fic brings me so much joy, not just because Olive herself is an absolute delight, but because her writing is so real and the way she captures the companions feels like it was cut dialogue it's so good
now you want some SMUT? OKAY lets talk - take these and call me in the morning
Think of Me by @scaryanneee is the smut fic of all time for me. i've recced this an unhealthy number of times, probably bordering on it being obsessive
inevitable by @aevallare the smut fic i rec the second most because it's just so easy to place myself in the moment alex writes and as always, i love when the tadpole gets thrown in while folks get nasty
Where were you when I was new? by @kittenintheden - just shut the fuck up and read this and you'll get it. also i'll never stop thinking about how kitten writes dialogue in smut because holy cow
Pent Up by @underdark-dreams - this isn't even Astarion I'm sorry. it's Rolan. i don't even know if i like Rolan. BUT I LOVE THIS FIC. it is so fucking good oh my god.
Careless Whisper by @tallymonster - okay i might be biased because Tally offered to mention Halia here and made her the goddamn prima ballerina, but this is also just So Good and such a fun read. modern AUs don't usually work for me, but this one is that charming
and of course, though i doubt you need my rec to know her by now, anything written by miss @fangswbenefits will make your toes curl. and i mean anything.
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