#there’s not a day that passes where I’m not thinking about them
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Can you do an imagine where reader is heavily pregnant and overdue. She’s grumpy and sore and just overall not feeling too good so (driver your choice) comforts her and tells her how amzing she is? 😩
Overdue Love - Lando Norris x Reader
a/n: Thank you so much for your request my love!!🍓 I loved working on this one, such a cute idea! I have no idea why I wrote for Lando, but I thought he would be such a good girldad <3
Send in your requests!
Masterlist
Y/N sat on the couch, shifting uncomfortably as she tried to find a position that didn’t make her sore back ache. She was heavily pregnant, overdue by a week, and every minute felt like an eternity. Her swollen belly seemed to defy gravity, and the heat of the afternoon didn't help. She sighed deeply, glancing at the clock and wondering if this baby would ever decide to make an appearance.
Lando, her loving and supportive partner, walked into the living room with a gentle smile. He had just finished a video call with his team, but his thoughts were entirely with Y/N. Seeing her discomfort, he immediately came to her side, his concern evident in his eyes.
“Hey, love,” he said softly, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “How are you holding up?”
Y/N sighed again, leaning into his embrace. “I feel like a beached whale, Lando. Everything hurts, and I’m so ready for this baby to come out.”
Lando chuckled lightly, his fingers brushing through her hair soothingly. “You’re doing amazing, you know that? I can’t imagine how tough this is, but you’re handling it like a champion. Our little girl is just taking her time, getting ready to meet the most incredible mom.”
Despite her grumpiness, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. Lando always knew how to make her feel better, even in the most uncomfortable situations. She placed a hand on her belly, feeling the baby’s gentle kicks.
“She’s already got a sense of drama, just like her dad,” Y/N teased, looking up at Lando with affection.
He laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Well, she does have a flair for the dramatic. But she’s also got the best parts of you. I can’t wait to meet her.”
Y/N tried to shift again, her face contorting with discomfort. “I can’t find a position that doesn’t make me feel like I’m being crushed.”
Lando got up and fetched a couple of pillows, arranging them around her to provide some support. “Here, try these. Maybe it will help a bit.”
As Y/N settled into the new arrangement, she sighed with a bit more relief. “That’s better, thank you.”
“You know,” Lando began, sitting back down beside her, “I’ve been thinking about how strong you’ve been through all of this. The morning sickness, the cravings, the sleepless nights… You’ve handled everything so well.”
Y/N laughed lightly, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “I don’t know if I’d call it handling it well. More like surviving.”
“Well, to me, you’ve been amazing. I’m in awe of you every day,” he said sincerely, his eyes shining with admiration.
Hours passed with Lando staying by Y/N’s side, making sure she was as comfortable as possible. They watched movies, reminisced about the past, and talked about their hopes and dreams for their little family. Despite the discomfort, Y/N felt grateful for Lando’s unwavering support and love.
As evening turned into night, Y/N began to feel the first twinges of contractions. At first, she brushed them off as more Braxton Hicks, the false labour pains she’d been experiencing on and off for weeks. But as the contractions grew stronger and more regular, she knew it was finally time.
“Lando,” she called out, her voice tinged with both excitement and nervousness. “I think it’s happening.”
Lando’s eyes widened, and he immediately sprang into action. “Alright, let’s get everything ready.” He had been preparing for this moment for months, and his excitement and nervousness were palpable.
They grabbed the hospital bag, which had been packed and ready for weeks, and headed to the car. Lando drove carefully but quickly, glancing over at Y/N every few seconds to make sure she was okay.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching over to hold her hand.
Y/N winced as another contraction hit. “It’s intense, but I’m okay. Just keep driving.”
They arrived at the hospital, and the staff quickly ushered them into a room. Lando stayed by Y/N’s side the entire time, holding her hand, encouraging her, and reminding her to breathe. The hours of labour were gruelling, filled with moments of pain and anticipation.
Y/N squeezed Lando’s hand tightly as another contraction rippled through her body. “This is so much harder than I thought it would be,” she admitted, tears streaming down her face.
Lando wiped her tears away gently, his own eyes glistening with emotion. “You’re doing great, love. Just a little longer, and we’ll have our baby girl in our arms.”
Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to focus on Lando’s soothing voice. He talked to her about their future, about the first time they’d bring Poppy home, about all the things they would do together as a family. His words were a lifeline, helping her push through the pain.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the moment arrived. With one final, powerful push, their daughter entered the world. The room filled with the sound of her first cries, and Y/N collapsed back against the bed, exhausted but overwhelmed with joy.
“She’s here,” Lando whispered, tears of happiness streaming down his face. “Our little Poppy.”
The nurse placed the tiny, squirming baby on Y/N’s chest, and she looked down at her daughter with a mixture of awe and love. “Hi, Poppy,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “Welcome to the world.”
Lando leaned in, kissing Y/N’s sweaty forehead and then the baby’s tiny head. “You did it, Y/N. You were amazing.”
Y/N looked at Lando, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. “We did it,” she corrected him, her voice filled with emotion.
The next few days were a blur of feedings, diaper changes, and sleepless nights, but through it all, Lando and Y/N were a team. They took turns holding and comforting Poppy, marvelling at every little coo and movement she made.
One night, as they sat together on the couch with Poppy sleeping soundly in Lando’s arms, Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe she’s finally here,” she said softly.
Lando smiled, looking down at their daughter with a tender expression. “She’s perfect, just like her mummy.”
Y/N laughed lightly, though she was still tired from the labour. “I think you’re a little biased.”
“Maybe,” Lando conceded, “but it’s true. You’re amazing, and Poppy is amazing because of you.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying the peace and quiet. Y/N felt a sense of contentment she had never experienced before. Despite the sleepless nights and the challenges of being new parents, she knew they were incredibly lucky.
“Do you remember the first time we talked about having kids?” Lando asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Y/N nodded, smiling at the memory. “It was on that trip to Italy, right? We were sitting by the lake, and you said you wanted a big family.”
“Yeah,” Lando said, his eyes distant as he recalled the moment. “I remember thinking how perfect it would be to raise a family with you. And now, here we are, starting that dream.”
Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes again, but this time they were tears of happiness. “I’m so glad we’re doing this together, Lando. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Lando leaned over and kissed her gently. “Me neither, love. Me neither.”
As the weeks passed, they settled into a routine, learning the ins and outs of parenthood together. There were sleepless nights and moments of frustration, but there were also moments of pure joy and love. Lando continued to be a supportive and loving partner, always ready with a kind word or a helping hand.
One evening, as they were getting ready for bed, Y/N looked over at Lando, who was gently rocking Poppy to sleep. “You’re such a natural with her,” she said, admiration clear in her voice.
Lando looked up, smiling. “I’ve had a great teacher,” he said, nodding towards her. “You’re an amazing mum, Y/N.”
Y/N blushed slightly, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “We make a good team, don’t we?”
“The best,” Lando agreed, walking over and placing Poppy in her crib. He wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close. “I’m so grateful for you, for us, and for our little Poppy.”
Y/N rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “Me too, Lando. Me too.”
#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#ln4#ln4 imagine#baby imagine#pregnancy imagine
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Pls pls something about emily engstler where the reader ( they can be friends at the beginning) keeps staring at her tattoos especially on her hands and emily catches her
Tattoos . EE
pairing: emily engstler x reader
A/N: i’m thinking let’s stay home pt 2 next??
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
“what’re you staring for?” a familiar voice sounded from across the couch. it was so sultry, so smooth. you couldn’t help that your body was drawn to it instantly.
it was a normal day, you and your girlfriend tucked away in the comfort of your home for the weekend. she had had a rough week of intense practice and you had a draining week of work, so the both of you decided to take some time to relax. but it was a dangerous game for you, emily within your reach at all times. she was practically irresistible and you found yourself gawking at her nearly every chance you got.
she was quite literally the hottest person on the planet in your eyes. her hair, her body, her lips, her eyes…everything about her made you crazy. but your favorite thing about her, that made you want to pounce on her at any given moment, are her tattoos. you really couldn’t explain it, why you were so drawn to them. the intricate designs that littered her skin just had some sort of grasp on you, had you drooling like a teen girl over her high school crush. you would squeeze your thighs together in desperation as you’d watch her hand run down her face, ink ridden fingers mindlessly tracing the outline of her lips. god the things it did to you. how her muscles would flex when you’d watch her work out, your eyes glued to the way the tattoos moved with them. everything she did, you’d be admiring the beautiful works of art.
emily wasn’t quite aware of your fixation with her tattoos. rather she knew you liked them, but clueless to the near obsession you had. she never caught onto the stares or the amount of times you’d trace them with your fingernails when you’d lay in bed at the end of the night. she had always figured you’d liked them just like any normal person would. so you would continue on with your infatuation, let yourself indulge every now and then without her noticing.
until now.
“hm?” you blinked rapidly, shaking yourself out of a daydream.
your legs were draped over hers as you laid horizontally across the couch, your head rested against the cushioned arms of the sofa. emily was running her hands up and down your shins aimlessly, making little imaginary drawing here and there. she was scrolling on her phone to pass the time and you were sat there, just looking. for the past, probably 10 minutes, you sat there watching her. watched how her tatted fingers glided smoothly along your skin. watched how they moved effortlessly. it was hypnotizing to watch, getting lost in the print on her fingers. you couldn’t lie, you were getting hot and bothered just thinking about those fingers.
when you had emerged from your fantasies, finally looking over at emily, she was already staring back at you. her phone now discarded somewhere next to her and her gaze glued to you. her fingers had stopped tracing and she had one eyebrow quirked at you in curiosity.
“you’ve been staring at me for like 10 minutes” her head tilted to the side, she was so damn cute “everything ok? is something wrong?”
“m’not staring” you pursed your lips. now it was your fingers, fiddling senselessly out of nerves. you were too embarrassed to admit that you’d been caught.
she just chuckled, tongue running along her bottom lip. her hand rose up to scratch at the back of her neck in amusement at your poor excuse of a lie.
“come on, baby” her eyes still shooting daggers into you, eyelids low but still alluring and intrigued “don’t lie t’me”
“i’m not, honest! i don’t even know what you’re talking about!” you scoffed playfully, hoping she wouldn’t pry any further. but you knew she would. she always did.
“i’m talking about how the whole time we’ve been sitting here you’ve been eyeing me”
“i have not” you emphasized even more.
“oh really?” she said, and you nodded in return. she leaned in closer to you and you watched as her eyes flickered down to your lips and back to your eyes “then why is it that every time my hand reaches your thigh your breathe catches in your throat?”
if your breathe wasn’t hitching when she was touching you, it certainly was now. she looked so divine, practically hovering over you just to tease you like this. you wanted to be mad at her for making you feel so humiliated, but how could you when she was so tempting.
“talk to me,” her voice lowered to a rasp “you know exactly what i’m talking about”
unable to handle the heat, already feeling the blush creep onto your face, you sighed in defeat. you bit your lip and squeezed yours eyes shut as you tried to think of the right words to say. how does one say your tattoos make me want to tear off your clothes and take you right here, right now without sounding like a freak?
“it’s embarrassing, emily. don’t make me say it”
“you don’t have to be embarrassed around me, baby, s’ok” she was met with a moment of silence as you groaned in frustration “why were you staring?”
“your…” another sigh fell from your lips, you were at a loss for words “your tattoos”
“my tattoos?” she smirked “what about them?”
“they’re just so, i don’t know, attractive?” your body cringed as you said it. you tried to avoid her gaze to ease the shame you felt, but you couldn’t help but catch how her smirk formed into a toothy grin “like…god this is so stupid…like they just look so good on you and you look so fucking good all the time. and i just can’t stop looking at you, em, i’m sorry”
with a new found confidence, you continued “your fingers, just the tattoos on them…oh my god emily you have no idea what you do to me. even when you’re just sitting here i can’t resist you”
“wow” she breathed out, lips curled tauntingly “can’t resist me, huh?”
“shut up”
“no no” another laugh fell from her lips. but this time it was soft and relaxed, not seductive to try and coerce some confession out of you “it’s cute, babe. you shouldn’t be embarrassed”
you just rolled your eyes at her, part of you still irritated that you were put in such a position, but another part of you relieved she didn’t mind.
emily let her hands fall down to you legs again, palms flat against you. you could feel the slight callousness of her skin. they pressed into the plushness of your thighs gently as they agonizingly crept their way towards you. she kept her eyes on you, eyelashes low, lips slightly parted. your mouth fell dry as her hands approached the bottoms of your shorts. her fingers toyed with the hems, then eventually pushing their way past the loose fabric until she was met with the silky skin of your hip just under your shorts. then, with little warning, she let her head lower down to your neck. her breathe was hot against you as she let her lips attach, kissing along your body. you gasped upon feeling the sudden sensation, your hands flying up to the back of her head in an attempt to brace yourself.
“all this over some tattoos?” she whispered into your neck “baby…you’re killing me”
“will you be quiet and just kiss me?” you blurted, unable to handle the built up tension.
“anything for you”
and with that, her lips were on yours in an instant. your bodies melting into each other as she showed you just how much she loved you with those damned tattoos.
#wcbb#wcbb x reader#washington mystics#indiana fever#emily engstler#emily engstler x reader#wlw#wlw imagine#lesbian imagine#lesbian#foreingersgod
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Rafe and reader - enemies to lovers
Protective!rafe with innocent!reader
She asks her best friends brother for help when she’s in trouble!
Safe In The Arms Of The Enemy
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Fear of Being Followed and Walking Home Drunk Alone
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.2K
Masterlist
Y/N and Sarah have been best friends for as long as she can remember. Even though Y/N is three years older, they met when she was nine and Sarah was six. The two of them just clicked and they have been thick as thieves ever since. This led to their families growing close together. The Camerons were always so nice to Y/N; everyone except for Rafe. For some reason, he has always been bothered by Y/N and she reciprocates that feeling because his hate provokes her.
The music in Sarah’s room blares through the speakers while Y/N stands in front of the mirror, singing along to “Stressed Out” by Twenty One Pilots. She is sleeping over at the Camerons' house to keep Sarah company. Ward, Rose and Wheezie are on the mainland for Wheezie’s spelling bee and Rafe is who knows where. The girls had grown peckish, so Sarah offered to get some pizza, leaving behind her best friend at Tannyhill by herself. “Wish we could turn back time. To the good old days. When our mama sang us to sleep, But now we're stressed out.” Her right hand forms an o as she uses it as a microphone. Her focus is on her own reflection, so she doesn’t notice Rafe’s appearance behind her. He leans against the door frame with his arm above his head. “Wow, you would think with how rich your parents are that they would pay for singing lessons for you after hearing you screech like a banshee,” he teases.
Her eyes roll in their socket and she turns to face him. She fires back, “Like I care about your opinion. I’ve seen your tastes and I’m glad that I’m not up to your standards.” “Whatever,” he grumbles. “Obviously you are blind because I have amazing tastes.”
“Nah, I’m not the problem. You are,” she pushes to infuriate him. She steps forward and they are face to face. He crouches down so their eyes meet, “I wish I was the one with the problem because then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. I swear every time I see you at my house, which is all the time, I wonder when you are going to get the fuck out of my life because I hate that you are in it.”
His words don’t meet his eyes, but she doesn’t notice. Instead, her mind takes the words to heart. A poke attacks her heart and it causes a tsunami of blood to come out. She can’t explain why she takes the word to heart; she returns the sentiment. Nevertheless, maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly as he does because as much as she loathes him, she couldn’t imagine her life without their quipful exchanges. He sees her tight lips and her silent demeanour; guilt flashes through him.
Before he can try to resolve the situation, Sarah passes behind him with a steaming pizza in her hand. “Ugh. Rafe, leave her alone. I would like to eat in peace,” she complains, setting the flat box on her desk. His hand runs over his lips as he thinks. “Fine, I don’t care. Later losers.”
———
The ending of summer means Rafe and Y/N have to return back to UNC. When she found out he was going to the same university as her (she should’ve seen it coming because Ward is an alumnus), she hesitated to accept her position; however, she figured uni was a big place and the chances of running into him were slim. It has been true for the most part. They’ve only run into each other five times in the two years they have been at university.
She stumbles through the dark street with her head pounding. It wasn’t the best idea to be walking home alone while drunk, except she didn’t want to make her friends go home early. She lied to them and told them another friend was picking her up. Her feet catch on the pavement and a rock skips across the ground. A car passing beside her causes her to jump away from the road. Her inebriated state makes her more paranoid. She lets out a breath when the taillights fade into the distance. Laughter coming from behind her causes her to spin around. She spots men walking in her direction and even though they don’t appear to be looking at her, panic sets through her. She begins to walk faster as her breathing starts to get faster and she decides to run into an alley to hide. Her first thought is to call to help, so she pulls out her phone and dials the first number that comes to mind. “What do you want?” he grunts through the phone. “Rafe, I’m scared. I don’t know what to d-” She hears footsteps coming closer to her and hangs up. A trash can seems like the perfect cover, so she drops behind it against the wall.
Rafe sits up straight from the couch and stares at the phone. The screen showing that the call has been ended makes him grow anxious. He begins to pace as he tries her phone again. His hand runs through his hair while he replays the fear in her mind. He is sent to voicemail and wants to through his phone against the wall. Another thought comes to mind and he decides against it.
———
She doesn’t know how long she has been behind the garbage with her head pressed against her legs. She is honestly too scared to move in case those men are still around. It didn’t look like they were following her, but it is better safe than sorry. The alcohol in her system starts to affect her state of consciousness and she struggles to keep her eyes open. A hand on her back causes her to scream and jump back. Her head hits against the brick wall. She grimaces as she brings her hand up to rub the back of her head. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. It’s me, Rafe.” The familiar voice makes her look up to verify his identity.
She sees his mop of dirty blonde hair and his stunning blue eyes stare back at her. She has never been so happy to see him. Her arms wrap around him to pull him against her, “I was so scared. Are they still out there?” She surveys the street once they separate. His hand cups her cheek to check her for injuries; he isn’t concerned about their surroundings. “Sweetheart, there is no one around. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you?” He frowns at the last part, following her search with a hard expression to find the person he has to defend her against. She doesn’t find anyone and her shoulder drops in his hold. Her head rests against his chest. Tears begin staining his shirt. His hand laces between the hair at the nape of her neck and he gently scratches her scalp. He knows it soothes her. He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got you. You are safe.” For the first time tonight, Y/N feels safe and she is in the arms of her enemy.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader
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black cat & golden retriever*ೃ༄
"the black cat and golden retriever duo of le sserafim i.e the asocial & social, hot & cold, sun & moon, day & night."
warning; from the blackcat!Y/n series, the parts don't need to be read in order!
prev. m.list. next.
“You’re up.”
“Yeah,” was all that Yunjin got in response, barely catching it as she sat on the couch and Y/n passed to get to the open kitchen.
She turned around, leaning her arms on the backrest of the couch to look at the feline who grabbed a glass of water. It was one of those rare days when they had their day off and Yunjin had been lying around waiting for Y/n since 10 A.M.; it was 1 P.M. when the girl finally woke up.
When Yunjin woke up and realised that it was a free day, her mind started swirling with things she could do and each thought contained the girl who wasn’t paying her any mind at the moment. It wasn’t anything Yunjin minded; Y/n had always been quiet, the quietest member of the group and she could still remember their first encounter.
They had come a long way; a very long way.
“Well, I was thinking–” She started and automatically got up from the couch as her feet led her towards Y/n. It was like she was being pulled by a magnet. “Since it’s a day off we could go out, there’s this café, I know you like to…” The words were flowing out of Yunjin’s mouth without a break as she walked to where Y/n was drinking water.
“So, we could leave at like 40? I’m all ready to go.” She concluded and leaned against the counter to look at Y/n who had yet to put down the glass.
Y/n removed the empty glass from her lips that she licked after, putting it on the counter. It seemed like Yunjin had planned a whole day for them already and it made the feline look over at the canine who was looking at her; expectantly as she waited for a yes.
“When did I say I was planning on spending the day with you?”
“I–Y/n!” Yunjin complained as her lower lip jutted out, but to no avail, as Y/n had already turned away and was walking back towards her room.
“Yes?”
“Please?” She pleaded, chasing right after the girl who sighed as she opened her door and stepped inside the room.
Y/n turned to look at Yunjin who was still waiting for her, she looked lost as if she wouldn’t know what to do with herself unless Y/n told her what to do.
It kind of was that way.
“I’m not going to the café or any of the other things you mentioned, Yunjin.” The thought of going out and being among all those people made Y/n want to go right back to bed and continue sleeping. She already did enough of that when she had work, the last thing she would want to do on a free day was be in crowded places.
“I’m heading to the park,” Y/n stated as Yunjin looked like she was about to start whining.
“Okay! I will go get my stuff right now. I will come with you.” She happily replied.
“No.”
“That’s a yes,” Yunjin called out as she was on her way to get her stuff, knowing that a lot of the time Y/n meant the opposite of what she said.
There was no way Y/n would say that she didn’t mind Yunjin tagging along despite loving her alone time and originally having her day planned with no one else in the picture. There was always an exception for Yunjin.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
There were times when Y/n wondered why she became an idol to begin with. There were a lot of reasons as to why she would wonder why. One of them was the social part. Despite being in a group full of introverts, she was the one who did not enjoy being social, in other words, the girl was asocial.
Her members enjoyed being out with or around other people, needing to only be alone to recharge–Y/n preferred solitary.
Y/n’s social battery didn’t last long either.
With multiple groups having their comebacks this month, she was called to the building to film challenges with different labelmates. Three different challenges to be exact and each took about 20 minutes if not less.
To greet each other. Go over the dance. Take multiple shots and then bid goodbye.
After an hour Y/n found herself at the Hybe roof terrace, taking a break to recharge and be able to film the ones with her members.
There was no escape though, the door opened and she ignored it as she continued to stare ahead. The best she could do was pretend she didn’t see or hear the person come out and that way she would get her peace even if the presence of someone else was annoying to her. This was the most secluded she would get at the moment.
She would probably get more–
“Y/n, I have to tell you what just happened…”
Yunjin sat down beside the girl and took out her phone as she started to explain while showing her the screen. All she got was silence, but it didn’t make her pause for a second as she talked before getting any affirmation to start.
She glanced over at Y/n to check if she was listening as she had yet to get a response from her feline since she started going over the previous events.
The ginger smiled to herself as the feline’s eyes were glued to her phone, seeing that Y/n was listening to her like she always did. Her full attention was on Yunjin, possibly a small smile on her lips or maybe it was the light–Y/n didn’t smile often–the girl always listened to every word she had to say no matter how small or big it was.
It made her continue, knowing Y/n wouldn’t talk much, but Yunjin could go for hours as long as she had Y/n’s attention on her. She knew that the dark-haired girl was an amazing listener.
Maybe Yunjin was a rare exception that made it possible for Y/n’s battery to recharge because of how comfortable she felt around her. She always gave up her alone time so Yunjin could rant to her about whatever it was that she had on her mind. Y/n simply dropped her needs and the only need was to hear what Yunjin had to say.
No one listened to Yunjin the way Y/n would do.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Y/n was rational, she always had her thoughts collected and emotions in check. However, being approached and asked the same question every other week was infuriating even to someone like Y/n. She valued her privacy and having someone trying to invade it ticked her off.
“What’re you doing?” She huffed and glanced at Yunjin who rested her chin on her shoulder after coming up from behind her. Yunjin’s eyes fell on the girl’s phone screen and Y/n rolled her eyes at the anger that was bubbling inside her, but she always kept it on the inside.
“He sent his manager to ask for my number this time.”
It made Yunjin furrow her eyebrows as their fellow labelmate had been trying to get Y/n’s number for quite some time now. It had never been directly in person though; Yunjin assumed it was because Y/n’s silent and mysterious nature was intimidating yet drew people in.
“It’s infuriating because I can’t tell him off personally.” Y/n expressed and Yunjin was the quiet one this time as it wasn’t often that Y/n spoke much, so she did her best to not accidentally interrupt. She liked listening to the feline once she would start talking.
“We could maybe approach him ourselves and…” Yunjin trailed off as she looked for ideas, knowing that Y/n wasn’t one to walk up to someone to start a conversation, but this was different. She was aware that Y/n’s words had a sting on them because of her boldness and if she went alone it could cause a scandal.
Her fingers gently twisted the sweater Y/n was wearing as she had her arms wrapped around the girl from behind. As her thoughts would run wild she still found the time to also bask in Y/n’s scent and comforting warmth.
“We could threaten him.” “We could tell him to stop.”
Yunjin pulled away from the feline she was hugging from behind and they both turned to look at each other at the very different suggestions. The ginger scratched at her nape and despite the anger she could feel radiating from Y/n, the girl didn’t look like she was plotting murder. Y/n was always collected on the outside and it made it hard for the canine to know what went on on the inside.
She tried her best to understand though;
“Well, I don’t think we should threaten him, but if I were you, I would think so too, so I agree but we could do what I was thinking instead.” She reasoned, doing her best to see it from Y/n’s point of view, however, Yunjin was too soft to go through with it.
“We? Wait—why are we talking we? I can handle myself, Yunjin.”
“Don’t worry, I will help.” Yunjin always stepped in to defend the girl who never needed any help defending herself however those words always fell on deaf ears. The canine defended her feline whether she wanted it or not and in the end, Y/n let her;
“I don’t want or need your—“
Y/n stopped and groaned as she ran a hand through her hair as she looked through the empty hallway she had been waiting in for Yunjin. There was no reason to argue about it when it wouldn’t change anything and she would only work herself up more and let Yunjin be a hero.
Yunjin liked the peaceful options. Y/n didn’t lose control often, but when she did it could go overboard. The canine girl was a great source of balance in those rare moments.
“You know what?”
“Yeah?” Yunjin piped.
“We should go to the studio.” The feline suggested at last, knowing how to control her emotions like puppet masters controlled their marionettes; some were hard, but they were caused by someone else. Those were emotions she realised couldn’t be controlled as she looked at Yunjin.
The best option for Y/n was to always ignore her anger, bottle it up and distract herself by occupying herself with something else. It was the most rational solution at hand to the problem.
“Oh! We could work on the–”
“Yeah, let’s go now.” She dismissed the sentence knowing what Yunjin would say and grabbed the taller girl by her hoodie as she led the way.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Y/n knew just how to pass by people without them trying to stop her to greet her and talk. Considering her fame even among idols, it happened often and she knew just how to avoid it.
The hardest sharks to avoid were the ones in the backstage waters. Groups would swarm, greet each other, film content to promote songs and catch up with friends if not make new ones. Y/n included, but just not this time.
Among a sea of faces, she would describe as dull, there would always be one person who would stand out. She’d like to call it unfortunate that she was drawn to the sun and the walk she was making to her group's green room turned into a detour towards Yunjin who was talking to someone who gave Y/n a bad feeling.
The feline would call her canine far too naïve.
Yunjin always tried to see the good in people.
Y/n was far more cautious and saw the bad before looking at the good.
The feline’s logic was way too precise to ignore and so when her senses rang with bad intentions she couldn’t not intervene when Yunjin was about to exchange numbers with the guy.
“We’re not allowed to give out our numbers,” her hand grabbed hold of Yunjin pulling back the girl’s hand that was about to give out her number. It was like a tingling of all the bad intentions coming from the male idol. As cold as Y/n could come off, she cared deeply even if she wouldn’t admit to it.
“That’s only when managers are looking, isn’t it?” The guy asked with a chuckle, his hand about to reach out to get Yunjin’s phone who this time hid it behind her back.
As far as Yunjin knew, Y/n was always good to listen to.
“I can call one over and you can ask again.”
He looked between the two girls who stood with their arms linked, waiting for Yunjin to say something. The hook? Yunjin didn’t go against Y/n. First off, she wouldn’t win, second, she didn’t want to because this was the girl she would do anything for. She was nothing but a good girl to her feline.
“Forget it.” His tone was harsh this time.
“Didn’t plan to remember it,” Y/n replied and side-glanced at the guy who was already blinking red lights before she tugged Yunjin to walk.
“Just because they work in the same industry doesn’t mean that they have the same good intentions as you.” She mumbled as they got away from the guy, walking towards their green room.
“He wanted to hang out.”
“Yunjin…” Y/n trailed off in disbelief, making the ginger stop in her steps and the feline looked at her with eyebrows raised, seeing the dots connect through Yunjin’s face.
“Okay yeah.” She nodded, seeing where it would all lead.
Yunjin truly dodged a bullet, thanks to Y/n.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Everyone who knew Y/n knew she loved her peace, the moments where it was just her and nothing else. Silence that she filled however she preferred by either listening to music, reading, painting, or anything she liked as long as she was all by herself and not in anyone’s company.
Her room was her sanctuary, the safe space where she found herself most of the time, especially after days that could be exhausting for someone who was asocial. The members all knew it, respecting boundaries they never found themselves knocking on the girl’s door or entering her room unless it was important or Y/n asked for them–vice-versa.
There was almost nothing better than closing off and being all alone at the end of the day before heading to bed.
However, there was still one person who often did knock on Y/n’s door before slowly opening it. That one person who always seemed to be around her, suffocating her, but somehow oxygen seemed to be the last thing on Y/n’s mind whenever the sun appeared before the moon.
She looked up from the book in her hold, the room illustrated by the orangish light from the side lamp on the night table. The same head as usual peeked inside with a bright smile no matter the time. Y/n sported her neutral stoic expression as Yunjin licked her lips and smiled even bigger when Y/n looked at her.
Unlike Y/n, Yunjin loved nothing more than spending the last hours before a new day with someone close to her, someone she cared for and wanted to be around every second of the day one way or another. That someone was Y/n who was staring at her in dead silence without any muscles on her face moving.
Most people would turn around and close the door at the intimidating look that was always on Y/n’s face.
Not Yunjin!
“Do you perhaps want to watch The Real Housewives of New York City?”
No one would ever believe that Y/n watched some silly reality show; it was far from how she appeared.
Yunjin looked away, half of her head disappeared for a second as she shuffled on the other side with the sound of rustling before she appeared fully again. The feline in the bed was yet to answer her, the door got pushed open fully with a thud, making her sigh and Yunjin stepped inside.
“I got your favourite snacks too.”
Aside from showing the plastic bag that she had to offer with her laptop under her arm, she offered her feline a smile once again.
There was almost nothing better than closing off and being all alone at the end of the day before heading to bed. Almost.
Y/n didn’t answer, instead, she sighed again but with a roll of her eyes. Yunjin could start bouncing off the walls when the girl closed her book. The ginger pushed the door closed while Y/n bit back a smile while putting away the book on the nightstand as all her attention would be on the canine as always.
The double-sized bed dipped before Y/n could finish putting away her stuff, making her click her tongue; Yunjin’s eagerness was evident despite the late hours of night slowly approaching.
“I was thinking–” The older started as she made it to her spot on Y/n’s bed as the feline moved to the side by the wall.
“Ask me tomorrow.” It wasn’t hard for Y/n to read her fellow member who jutted out her lower lip while opening the laptop. Yunjin was always thinking and they would never get to watching if she wouldn’t stop her every once in a while.
She compensated by always listening any other time.
“Okay…” She agreed either way, getting a hum of acknowledgement and she glanced over at Y/n who was busy with rummaging through the snacks.
With that she got the show running on the laptop, turning off the side lamp before she leaned back against the headboard. Something was missing as Yunjin fiddled with the duvet that was draped over her legs. Her eyes darted to Y/n who was half lying down, chewing on one of the jellies in her mouth.
Y/n inhaled deeply, feeling Yunjin’s gaze on her and she knew what type of eyes she would encounter if she looked at the girl beside her. It didn’t matter if she looked or not, Y/n didn’t need a pair of puppy eyes to get convinced.
No matter how many times Yunjin would wrap her arms around her throughout the day it was different during these moments.
“Yunjin–” She called out for the girl, still looking at the laptop that played their show.
“Yeah?” Y/n got a reply in an instant before she could fully finish Yunjin’s name.
“Lie down or leave.”
She happily obliged knowing that Y/n’s way of showing affection was different regarding words. It was still all warm even if Y/n came with a bite of frost that a certain sun melted.
Yunjin slowly lay down, the intimidating girl who shook hands with claws and smiled with a hiss was like a cosy ball of fur; Yunjin loved being the small spoon. She rested her head right under Y/n’s chin, her hands mindlessly playing with the girl’s hoodie while her back was rubbed as Y/n hugged her.
Y/n released a breath, relaxing her body as she let go of everything else on her mind because she could allow everything to wash away when Yunjin was around. The girl could be herself even if she felt like she was a difficult person, but Yunjin didn’t seem to mind. A gentle smile appeared on her lips as she rested her chin against Yunjin’s head, agreeing to feed the girl gummies.
Almost;
Because at the end of each day, the black cat loved having her golden retriever right beside her.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
#blackcat!y/n🐈⬛#yunjin imagines#yunjin fluff#yunjin x reader#yunjin x female reader#le sserafim x fem reader#le sserafim x reader#le sserafim imagines#le sserafim fluff#girl group imagines
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s o l o n g , l o n d o n
Includes: Aaron Hotchner
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Mentions of break downs, drinking, mentions of depression symptoms, not proof-read
Based On: So Long, London by Taylor Swift
You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?
I died on the altar waiting for the proof
You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days
“Haley wants us to get back together.” Upon hearing those words, her heart dropped. She realized why Hotch asked her to come on this ‘date’. She thought he was finally going to ask her to make whatever they were official, but she now knew he just wanted to let her down easy.
“What?” She asked. She could feel the tears pooling in her eyes, her view of Hotch blurry and distorted. Though she couldn’t see very well, she could see the pity and regret written on his face.
“She wants us to try to be a family again.” She took a second to process his words.
“And, what did you say?” She knew the answer, but she needed to hear it from him.
“I said yes.” He watched the tears fall from her eyes. “I had to, for Jack. For my family. We both knew this wasn’t a sure thing, Y/N. I’m your boss, and our jobs are dangerous enough, this wasn’t going to work.” He was right. Since she started at the BAU, she developed a crush on her slightly older, and incredibly intimidating boss. She would’ve never thought he felt the same towards her, and she was constantly teased by her fellow profilers about it, until he asked her out on the way home from a case. She was elated. They went on a couple dates, and she was sure they were going great. Until now.
“And Haley gave you the out. Instead of telling me, you led me on,” she choked on her sobs. She reached for her purse, preparing herself to leave Aaron Hotchner and her heart along with him. “Go back to your family, Hotch. And don’t worry, I’ll pretend like nothing ever happened.”
And I'm just getting color back into my face
I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place
The team was shocked and confused when Y/N took a two-week leave of absence. She left without telling anyone or saying where she was going, she didn’t even tell Hotch, going straight to Strauss and asking for her leave, using the ‘family emergency’ excuse. They were even more surprised when she returned, acting as if she hadn’t just left without a word.
She could feel their eyes on her the minute she entered the briefing room. She sat down, chin high, eyes forward, not daring to look any of them in the eye for fear they would see through her facade.
Hotch’s eyes burnt a whole in her head. They hadn’t talked, interacted even, since that night. And while she was going to be profesional, she didn’t want him thinking he broke her heart, even if he did.
“Y/N, good to see you back.” JJ was the first to address her, the first to break the silence. She gave JJ a smile, and turned to look at the file sitting in front of her, keeping to herself throughout the briefing.
⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹
The team had moved the briefing onto the jet, the case being of a serial killer who was quickly devolving. The profilers all noticed their fellow coworker and friend’s strange behavior, her demeanor entirely different to the one she wore before her leave. She wouldn’t indulge conversation with the others, always directing the topic onto the case. The agents had also picked up on Hotch’s behavior; how his eyes would linger on Y/N for a little too long, and how he avoided referencing the woman.
Emily was growing even more concerned for her friend as the minutes passed, and when she saw her heading to the front of the jet for coffee, she quickly followed. “Hey,” she alerted Y/N of her presence, turning and closing the curtains to give them some privacy.
“Hi,” she gave a tight-lipped smile, moving to go back to her seat before Prentiss grabbed her arm.
“What’s going on?” She saw her friend’s face harden, her eyes moving to her feet.
“Nothing,” she knew better than to try and pretend like nothing was wrong around a bunch of profilers, but she couldn’t admit to herself that hers and Hotch’s break up was taking a toll on her. She was skinnier and paler, and was clearly struggling with something. But she couldn’t even call whatever happened between them a break up; they were only going out for a month and they hadn’t even told the rest of the team. So, sticking to her word, she would continue to act as though nothing happened.
“Oh, come on, you know I don’t believe that.” Emily dropped her grip on the girl’s shoulder, moving to fiddle with the coffee cups on the table. “Something’s going on. We all see it. You don’t have to talk about it, but, I want you to know we’re all here for you.” She saw tears pooling in the younger girl’s eyes, and her concern grew and her heart broke and all she wanted was for her to be okay. “You can talk to us. You can talk to me, or JJ, or even Hotch.” At the mention of his name, she broke. Her tears ran down her face, and sobs racked her body.
Emily hurried to hug her friend, shocked at her sudden breakdown. She heard the curtain being pulled, and turned to the sight of the team’s concerned eyes on the pair. But, she made sure to watch Hotch, noticing his own eyes becoming glossy at the sight of the crying agent.
For so long, London
Had a good run
A moment of warm sun
But I'm not the one
She sat on her couch, drowning her sorrows with a bottle of wine. Emily, JJ, and Penelope had just left her apartment after a night spent of crying and laughing, the women comforting her after she had confided in them about all that happened with Hotch.
She felt better, but not great. Her heart still hurt every time Haley and Jack came to visit Hotch during his lunch break, and she kept having to excuse herself to the bathroom whenever she was around him for too long. The team pretended not to notice the tension between her and Hotch, and they both refused to acknowledge each other unless it referenced their work or a case they worked.
Everyone knew something happened between them, and they knew their friend was not okay, so they pushed past it in hopes of nursing their friend back to happiness. She was incredibly grateful for all their friends were doing for her, but it wasn’t enough.
Nobody knew that she had just given Strauss a request for a transfer from the Bureau; none of the others knew, all but one person. The same person who’s name lit up on her phone, his calls going unanswered as she sipped on her glass of wine.
#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#hotch x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds
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✨Slip Into Me: Part 1 Saved Before Dusk✨
QZ! Joel x fem! reader
Series Masterlist Kofi
A/N: This just stumbled upon me when I was driving home from work this week, so I wrote this in about a day. I’m still not sure how I feel about the first chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for giving this a read for me! (I cannot keep up with tags, so be sure to go follow my notifications blog if you want to be notified when I post @mermaidgirl30-updates)
Chapter Summary: You run into trouble with one of the FEDRA soldiers, but a broad, handsome stranger comes along and intervenes.
Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)
Chapter Tags: QZ! Joel, outbreak au, FEDRA soldier tries to attack reader, Joel steps in and saves reader, soft Joel, a bit of pining and a little flirting, eventual smut in next chapter, no use y/n
Word Count: 6.1k
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
The Boston QZ is grimy, filthy, overrun with FEDRA soldiers who stalk and parade up and down the city of turmoil. Their tanks fill the streets night and day, ordering people around as if they were their own personal slaves. The buildings are rundown, furniture tattered and torn, bodies filing in and out day after day just trying to survive off the little ration cards they collect every week.
It’s not a place you wanted to stumble upon, not a home at all. But this was where you’d stay for now because your group was all gone, killed by feral raiders who murdered your friends in cold blood. You were the only one left, untouched in an infected world. You were lucky to make it out alive, but at what cost? You sure as hell didn’t want to stay here in this cage. But you guess it’s better than being attacked by infected or murdered in your sleep.
They offered you a little apartment, ration cards for a hard day’s work cleaning and organizing weapons for FEDRA. You don’t trust any of the soldiers, don’t dare look them in the eyes most days, only when you have to. Maybe one day you’ll make it out of here alive, but for now this place is giving you shelter, food, running water, electricity. It sure beats living on your own out in the woods somewhere where no one else can defend you. You’ve learned to be on your own, but that doesn’t mean you like it.
The air is warm as dusk draws near, the summer heat stifling even as you walk through the shade. Your shift is over, dinner gone and finished, so now it’s time to go back to your cold, lonely apartment. Maybe tonight you’ll actually get some decent sleep instead of waking up screaming from nightmares of distant times. You still see faces of loved ones you lost get murdered by infected and raiders, friends starve to death, companions freeze to death. You don’t know how you made it all this way, but you did. You had to stop holding on to the past, it wasn’t coming back for you.
You swipe your fingers against the cool bricks of falling apart buildings, making your way through the narrow alleyway that’ll lead to your apartment building. Just as you pass a stairwell on the side of the brick building, a dark shadow makes its way toward you.
You freeze, stopping dead in your tracks, fingertips still tracing the rough bricks. There’s a tall FEDRA man walking toward you. Navy blue pants, combat boots, a camouflage vest strapped tight to his chest. He looks menacing. Piercing blue eyes narrowing your way, coarse blonde locks that look like pure ice, a large scar running down the side of his dirty neck, and fists locked tight at his sides.
“Hey, girl. What do you think you’re doing out here all alone? Up to no good I suppose?” he asks as he stalks toward you like a hungry tiger, eyes locked with yours as a smirk meets his chapped lips.
You back up to the brick wall, feeling like you could sink like jello into the dusty cracks of the brown faded bricks. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. You’re trapped like a helpless little mouse. “No, I’m just trying to get back to my apartment.”
“Sun’s about to go down, shouldn’t be out so late in the day close to curfew. You’re up to no good, aren’t ya? Trying to sneak around and steal some ration cards?”
“No, I…”
“Don’t lie!” He bites back, jaw seething as he pulls your wrist and clamps down on your skin. It feels like wires setting your nerves on fire, like he’s ripping through your delicate bones.
“Please, I’m only trying to get back. Let me go,” you beg, using all your might to get out of his tight grip.
“I don’t think so, love. Thieves get searched, and I’m gonna search you till I find what I’m looking for,” he snarks.
Before you can fight your way out of this mess, he spins you around and pins you to the wall, slamming your face into the sharp bricks as you cry out in pain. He crowds your body, digging his fingers into your hips as his other hand shoves your face against the searing surface. You can’t break free, can’t fight your way out of this. He’s too strong, too overpowering. You’re completely helpless.
“Please, stop,” you whine, feeling a warm tear slip down your cheek.
“No, I don’t think so, doll. Think I’ll stay right here between your…”
Before he can finish his sentence, you hear a deep gruff voice growl behind you. “Get the fuck off her, Seth.” You feel the soldier’s weight being dragged off you, hear the sounds of a body being thrown into the side of the opposite wall.
You spin around and freeze, watching a stranger punch the soldier’s face with bruised knuckles. The soldier spits blood from his mouth, but the other man grabs the edge of his navy collar and pins his back against the brick wall.
“Think you’re a tough guy, Seth? Think it’s alright to put your filthy hands on her? I’m sure she didn’t ask you to, so mind your fuckin’ manners and keep your goddamn paws off her,” he growls, spitting up into the soldier’s wide eyes.
You don’t know what to do, what to think. All your brain can do is eye the back of the man who saved you. He’s tall, so very broad, wide shoulders, tousled dark curls that probably feel like silk. His green flannel is rolled up to his elbows, exposing cascading veins that drape down his tanned skin, ending in massive calloused hands. His dark jeans are faded, worn brown boots covering his feet. He looks like your knight in shining armor, your saving grace. Why he saved you, you don’t know. But you want to find out, now.
The soldier laughs in his face, but he only grips his collar tighter as he sends another punch to his swollen eye. When he spits more blood, he turns back to your savior and laughs casually like he didn’t just get beaten up. “Fancy meeting you here, Miller. Say, you ever find those cigarettes and drugs we sent you out for?”
He clenches his jaw, releasing his collar so he can push the soldier again against the wall. “Ain’t got nothin’ for you, Seth. You want some, you can give me more ration cards,” he hisses.
The soldier laughs, shaking his head back and forth. “Five,” he wagers.
“Ten,” the broad man demands with narrowed eyes.
He raises his hands in defeat and sighs. “Fine, ten it is. Just hurry up with my order, will ya?”
The other man slaps his face, hard. You can practically hear the split of a rubber band snapping against skin. The soldier cowers over, holding the side of his mouth in pain as he stands back up slowly. “Tell me to hurry up one more time, and I’ll break your jaw,” he seethes. “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready, Seth. You’ll be the very last.”
He narrows his cold blue eyes, pointing a finger accusingly at the man who saved you. “Better watch it, Miller.”
“You threatening me? I shouldn’t be the one that’s careful, you be careful. Wait till Tess hears about this,” he growls with furrowed eyebrows.
Seth backs up all wide-eyed and bruised, like he’s afraid of the name Tess. Before he can get anywhere, the broad bodied man nods his head to him. “Get out of here, and don’t mess with this girl again. Got it?” he growls with the bite of his scowling jaw.
Seth looks over at you and nods before he runs off in the opposite direction, clutching his vest like it’s the only thing keeping him at bay.
He huffs out a deep breath and turns to you, furrowed eyebrows turning into a contemplative, concerned expression. Your eyes go wide, taking in the front of his face for the first time. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Dark brown eyes that look like pools of honey hone your vision, sweaty, tanned skin glistening in the fading light of day. His dark beard is threaded with silver, a strong jaw set with plush lips that half open when he looks at you. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and he’s so fucking broad. You decide then that his eyes could kill, they could devastate anyone in their wake by how beautiful they are. Warm chocolate eyes flecked with wisps of honey brown. Absolutely breathtaking.
“You alright there?” he asks with concern lathered in his voice, careful with his large steps as he walks up to you.
“Oh, I’m… yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, suddenly forgetful on how to take deep breaths. Your heart is racing wildly, you swear it’s about to fly out of your chest.
He reaches out, but stops himself. Instead, he just points out the left side of your face. “Your face. You’re hurt,” he says with a scowl, clenching his hand into a tight fist at his side like he’s furious at the soldier for hurting you.
Your hand shoots up to the side of your face, and that’s when you feel it. The blood, the aching feeling of having your face bashed into the hard bricks. “Ahh, fuck,” you whine, hissing when you try to brush your fingertips over the swelling area.
“Here, c’mon. Follow me. I’ll get ya taken care of. I’ve got supplies back at my place. Can fix ya up in no time,” he offers as he nods his head for you to follow. You stay put, weighing your options. You don’t know this man, but he saved you, so he must be safe.
He takes a few steps forward and turns back around when he doesn’t see you following. “You comin’?” he asks with hope in his brown eyes.
You take a moment to breathe and then nod, agreeing to go with him. “Yeah, lead the way.”
You follow after him, letting him lead you away from the narrow, dark alleyway. When you get on the sidewalk of the main street you notice he walks on the outside of you, like he’s shielding you from any other soldiers who might give you a hard time. You don’t know why he does it, but you owe him a huge debt now.
You cross your arms over your teal t-shirt, looking up at the tall man who saved your life while he leads you to building two where he must live. You’re about to speak, but he beats you to it. “You know, you shouldn’t be out alone when the sun’s about to go down. A bunch of no good soldiers swarmin’ the streets here. What were you even doin’ out?” he asks, turning to a stairwell where he leads you up to the second floor.
“I was just heading back to my apartment. I got a late start with work today, had some things to finish up.”
He hums, looking back at you with furrowed brows. “Next time walk back with someone. Seth ain’t the only lowlife soldier. Gotta be more careful,” he tsks as he takes out a golden key in the pocket of his denim jeans.
You sigh, feeling as if he’s somehow blaming you for not knowing the safety rules around here. “Look, I’m new here. I didn’t know any better. I was just trying to get back to my place. I didn’t… I didn’t…”
“Whoa, hey. S’alright. Nobody said you did anythin’ wrong. I’m jus’ sayin’ watch yourself. Alright?” he asks with his hands raised, like he means no harm.
You drop your guard and sigh. “Sorry, just a little on edge,” you mutter.
“Don’t blame ya one bit. Now, c’mon. Take a seat at the table. I’ll get you a warm washcloth,” he instructs as he opens the rusted red door, the hinges squeaking while you make your way into his little apartment.
He shuts the door, and you take in your surroundings. The walls are covered with chipped white paint, the kitchen tiny, a little solid wooden table surrounded by two brown dining room chairs. The living room is open, a sunken leather couch with a broken coffee table sitting in the middle of an old, threaded blue rug. White satin stain coated curtains cover the glass window, and light shines dimly throughout the small apartment. It’s worn down, but it’s cozy enough.
You make your way over to one of the chairs, slowly pulling it back as to not make it drag across the hardwood floor. When you get comfy in the back of the chair, you watch Joel disappear into the other room, listening to the trickle of a running faucet while the bathroom light shines down the narrow hallway.
You fidget your fingers together, tapping your foot nervously on the dusty floor. You’re in his apartment, the man who just saved your life. And he’s tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome. His looks could surely kill a man with just the gaze of those dark flecked eyes. He had danger written all over those honey colored eyes. Eyes that could eat you alive.
He comes back down the hall a minute later, tan washcloth in hand, flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, corded veins skating all the way down to his massive hands. You’re nervous just by those large, thick fingers grasping the washcloth. You wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. Maybe like burning fire, hot charcoal, extreme heat rushing off his rough fingertips. He might feel like wildfire.
He pulls up the kitchen chair across from you and grunts when he sits, like his whole body hurts from the weight of working in the summer heat of the QZ. “Look up for me,” he requests, sliding his chair a tad bit closer to yours, enough to brush his knees against yours.
You gasp when his fingertips meet your skin, his hand cupping your chin and turning your injured cheek to where he can reach you. You were right. His fingers do feel like wildfire, calluses gliding against your smooth skin as he gets a good hold on you. It’s almost enough to send you jolting from the chair.
“This might sting a bit. Jus’ hold still,” he says gently, a deep voice escaping behind plush lips. You wince a little when the warm material meets your wound, but you relax when he gives you that certain look that says be still.
You hiss a little at the contact of the warm cloth across the scrapes on the side of your face. He makes eye contact with you and asks with those deep brown eyes if you’re okay, stopping his movements for just a second before you nod and let him continue.
From here you can see how clear the dark flecks in his eyes shine, a faint red scar above his right eye, silver threaded coarse beard that looks almost soft to the touch, and pink lips that look so inviting. He watches you study him, his own eyes flicking back and forth from your injury to your eyes, silently assessing you with a wary stare.
You see it in his eyes, he’s curious about you, maybe interested, but he doesn’t give much away. You see pain behind those dark irises, a worn body just getting by in the QZ day after day. You don’t know him, but you can tell this much. He’s reserved, quiet, careful, a man that keeps his guard up. You’d like to see behind those walls, if only for a moment. See what all he’s really been through.
After a couple more seconds of silence he finally talks. “You new here? Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”
You nod, watching him trace the edges of the warm washcloth across your cheek. “Yeah. Just got here a couple weeks ago,” you murmur, clenching your jaw when he rubs against a really sore area of your cheek.
“What the hell brought you here?” He says it rough, like he can’t believe anyone would ever dare come here by their own will.
“Raiders attacked my group. I was the only one left alive, and I just sort of stumbled upon the QZ gates. One of the soldiers found me and offered me a place here.”
He hums, dark eyes assessing you slowly, sliding down your body briefly as something twists in your stomach at the sight of him really taking a good look at you. “M’sorry ‘bout your group, but I’m more sorry you ended up here in this hell hole. FEDRA runs this place, and none of ‘em are remotely friendly. Especially Seth.” He spits the name out like it’s poison on his tongue, and you see he can’t stand the man that attacked you.
You purse your lips and ask him the same. “And you? Why are you here?”
He drops the washcloth from your skin, clenching his jaw as he stares with a hardline drawn on his forehead, shaping wrinkles across tanned skin. “That’s a long story that I don’t feel like answerin’ right now.”
Before he brings the lukewarm washcloth back up you grab his wrist, preventing him from lifting his arm further. He stares at you, eyes partly narrowed, challenging you to ask him again. “At least tell me where you’re from. Your accent, are you from the south?”
He leans back in his chair and sighs, nodding his head slowly. “Came from Austin, Texas. And you?” He raises his thick eyebrows like you owe him the same gratitude of telling him where you’re from.
“California. Northern part,” you answer, listening to him hum once again until he brings the washcloth back to your temple.
“You’re a little far from home ain’t ya?” he asks quietly while he brushes the soft material over your face.
“Unfortunately,” you mumble under your breath. Another flick of those pools of honey your way and you see a hint of concern, maybe even sadness buried in those flecks of darkness. He seems to have so many layers to him. You want to unravel them, unfold every piece and dig into his past, his present, his mind. And maybe you’ll get there, one day. Maybe, just maybe…
You suddenly realize you don’t even know his name, how have you not asked him yet? You heard the soldier say Miller. Maybe that was his last name.
You pick at the fading denim of your jeans and raise your eyes to his hesitantly. “Your name. I didn’t catch it.”
Another brush to your raw skin, and his soft brown eyes meet yours. “Joel Miller. And your name is?” he asks with a piqued interest, raising his eyebrows slightly. You tell him your name and he says it back to you slowly, another flick of his dark eyes over your body. Like he’s memorizing you entirely. Your name, your shape, your essence. It makes the room sticky and hot at the sight of his eyes exploring you, even if it means nothing.
“Joel…” you repeat, slowly spilling the syllables off the tip of your tongue.
“That’s right…” He says your name again slowly, like honey dripping off his warm tongue, every murmur and gruff sound making you a bit dizzy.
“You’re gonna be alright. Might bruise up a bit, but nothing that’ll last long. Gonna be sore tonight, jus’ clean it good and keep it dry. Ain’t gonna scar over,” he says as he nods to your face.
He cups your chin again, turning you slightly to him as his calloused fingertips brush a strand of hair behind the slope of your ear, breathing down your neck as you finally smell him. He smells woodsy, summer sweat kissing the air, cheap whiskey filling your senses. Then he looks deep in your eyes, one hand falling slowly to the top of the table, fingertips curling over the scratched wood, his jaw flexing as his eyes travel down to your lips for just a second, a breath in time. And suddenly you’re frozen in place, waiting for something to happen, something that shouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t, he’s not…
Another soft graze of his rough knuckles to your cheek and then the front door slams open, sending both of you back in your chairs.
“Joel! Got some information for you about the drugs we gotta… Oh.” She stops in the doorway, eyes wide as she looks at you, surprised Joel has company. She’s tall, thin but built with muscle. She’s strong, long brunette hair, and hazel eyes clouding her vision.
“Joel Miller has company? Who might this be?” she asks curiously, slamming the door shut with a bang as she folds her arms over chest and nods your way.
Joel introduces you two, and you quickly learn her name is Tess. “Nice to meet you, Tess,” you say with a small smile, your arm resting on the edge of the table.
“Likewise. What happened to you? Looks like you got knocked up pretty good there.”
“It was Seth. Fucker had her pinned against one of the alleyway walls and was givin’ her trouble,” Joel spits as he flashes his incisors Tess’s way.
“That piece of shit. Wait till I get a hold of him, gonna make him wish he never saw the light of day,” she scoffs.
“He’ll be running for the hills, Tess,” he chuckles as he places his meaty hands on top of his large thighs. “What’d ya need?”
Tess leans up against the fading wallpaper and throws him a pack of chewing gum. “Found this when I was outside the walls today, but just wanted to check in about tomorrow. Wanted to go over the plans before we head out in the morning. I can come back later though and discuss it.”
Tess’s hazel eyes wander over to you, and she gives you a welcoming smile. “So, how long have you been here? Not long because I would’ve noticed a new face.”
“Just a couple weeks. Just getting settled in,” you reply as you play absentmindedly with your hair.
“Where do they have you working at? I can always stop by, give you some tips, show you around the area. I’m sure you could use a friend.”
You nod and smile up at her. “Yeah, thanks. They’ve got me working down at the weapons station. Cleaning and sorting and whatever else they tell me to do.”
“I see. I’m sure that gets redundant and boring, so maybe I can show you a thing or two to not lose your mind in this shithole,” Tess replies, making her way over to Joel.
“You’re lucky this one was around,” Tess says with a firm slap to Joel’s back, stifling a grunt from him as he pushes Tess playfully in the arm. “Joel can be a real pain in the ass, but he’s sure nice to have around.”
“Yeah yeah, shut up. Thanks for the gum,” Joel chuckles as he pushes the pack of Spearmint gum into the pocket of his jeans.
“Sure thing, handsome. I’ll see you later.” She waves and gives you a nod before heading out the door. “Welcome to the Boston QZ again.” Tess makes her grand exit and shuts the door loudly, her footsteps fading into the distance.
You twist your hands in your lap, suddenly overstimulated by the presence of an intimidating woman who clearly gets her way in the QZ. You wish you were stronger, braver, more outspoken like her. And clearly she knows how to pull Joel’s strings. You’re not jealous of her, only slightly envious that she has Joel hooked around her finger.
“She seems nice,” you say slowly, looking over at Joel as he laughs at your words.
“Yeah, she ain’t too bad. Trust me, she’ll be having Seth shakin’ like a dog out in the freezin’ rain,” he chuckles.
You laugh at his words, but suddenly you’re asking something you shouldn’t be. “Are you guys like… together?” you ask nervously, gulping down the rest of your words as you hold your breath like you’re underwater.
“Me and Tess? Nah,” he laughs, shaking his head at the mention of it. “She’s my neighbor. But we work together, she’s my partner. We smuggle things for FEDRA.”
“Smuggle things?” you ask, confused by what he means.
He leans forward and places his hands on the table. “Yeah, smuggle things. Items, sometimes people, whatever they need. We go out on a bunch of missions. Searching abandoned buildings, makin’ trades, doin’ deals with folks around here and for some of the soldiers. Kind of an easy way to get extra supplies and ration cards.”
“So you’ve got sway with the soldiers here?” you ask curiously.
“More or less. Tess is the one with the real sway, but I guess you can say people kinda fear me. They don’t really mess with me. Hell, they know not to.” He knocks his knuckles against the edge of the table, and you reach up to scratch your face, wincing when you forget how god awful sore it is.
“Shit, I forgot about my face,” you whine, gripping the edge of your denim tight as you sink your nail beds into your thigh.
“Careful there, try not to mess with it,” he warns softly, bringing back the cool washcloth to your scratches. You sit back and let him tend to your wound, watching how careful he's being with every swipe of the cloth to your fragile skin.
He’s close again, close enough to where you can smell him, inhaling the woodsy scent as summer sweat mixes with the pinecone scent. You could get drunk off the smell, and you really hope it’ll stick to your clothes when you’re back in your apartment, alone with your delusions of having his large hands all over your skin.
You watch the way his large biceps cling against his flannel shirt, like he’ll rip the soft material at any given moment. His knees brush against yours, fingertips grazing your jawline like the edge of a soft feather, enough to send tingles down your spine.
“Is it just you here?” you ask while he holds the damp cloth to your cheek.
“Jus’ me,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking back to yours.
“Do you have family around. Anywhere?” you ask cautiously. His jaw clenches, and his lip quivers while he analyzes the question, figuring out if he wants to answer or not.
He sighs, “I’ve got a brother. Tommy.”
“Here?”
“Nah. Haven’t talked to him in years. Last I heard he was settling in Jackson, Wyoming,” he mutters, clearly annoyed about the topic of conversation.
“Why don’t you go find your brother?” you ask, conflicted if you should continue the questions.
“It’s complicated,” he grumbles.
“What’s so complicated?”
“He’s halfway across the country.”
“So?” you say mockingly.
“So? That’s a hell of a ways to go to find someone that I’m not sure even wants to see me,” he says with gritted teeth.
“Joel, I’m sure he wouldn’t be upset. What makes you think he wouldn’t want to see you?”
“We got into a bad fight, and we weren't agreeing on some things. Turns out we wanted different things, so I told him to leave, and he went. Followed some fireflies, hell if I know how long he actually stayed with them,” he scoffs, digging his worn boot into the wooden floor.
“Fireflies?” you ask with wide eyes.
“That’s what I said,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, getting annoyed with you already, but you just keep talking.
“Oh, that’s… well, that’s something. But I’m sure he’d want you to try to reach out. Would you go, if you thought he would? Do you have any other family?” you ask intrigued, pulling yourself to the edge of the seat.
He leans back and drops the washcloth to the table, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “You sure do ask a bunch of questions, don’t ya?” he huffs, crossing his arms as a hard line maps across his forehead.
“Well, I’m just saying. If I had family still alive I sure as hell would go find them, not stand back and watch them slip away from me! I fucking wish I had mine!” Your words come out louder, harsher than you mean to, and Joel’s just sitting there, staring at you with wide eyes and an expression you can’t quite read.
The room is suddenly silent, only the sounds of your labored breathing and teary eyes fogging up the room. You shouldn’t have snapped, shouldn’t have thrown that back in his face. You shouldn’t have pried, now look what you’ve done. “Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say it like that.”
He opens his mouth partially, big brown eyes lathered in concern holding your gaze. He looks like he understands your pain, maybe just a fraction of that. But he doesn’t share it with you. “S’alright. Don’t gotta apologize. Think we both jus’ over shared a little too much.”
You nod, biting your tongue from saying anything else stupid. What’s wrong with you? “Yeah, guess so.” You take a deep breath, hearing him scrape his chair back while his left arm rests on the edge of the table.
You see it then, a black military watch clasped to his wrist, the glass broken and arms not moving on the watch. It’s broken, just a mere memory of some sort that you want to unlock, but now is not the time.
“Think I should get you back to your place,” he says in a deep voice, one that says he’s finished talking about family matters.
“Yeah, okay,” you say quietly.
“Where are you stayin’ at?”
“I’m in building four.”
“Alright then. That ain’t too far. C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Make sure no soldiers give ya a hard time,” he says through clenched teeth.
“Joel, wait.” Before he can push himself up, you rest your hand on top of his, feeling his warm skin simmer underneath yours.
He stares at your hand on his, ticking his jaw nervously as his brown doe eyes fall back on yours. “Thank you, for today, for saving me.”
“It was nothin’, don’t mention it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand out from under yours, memorizing the way his hand feels like fire underneath yours, mourning the loss of his skin on yours.
“I owe you.”
He looks at you with a serious gaze, his thick fingers clamping down on the material of his flannel. “Don’t owe me a damn thing, sweetheart. I’d do it all over if I had to.”
Oh.
His jaw twitches, amber eyes glowing into yours, a sudden tension filling the room. It feels a lot like longing, understanding, some kind of connection. But the spark of it snaps when he pulls back his chair and stands, nodding for you to follow him. “C’mon, let’s get you back before we break curfew.”
He leads you out of his apartment, down the rickety stairs and steers you through the winding buildings, avoiding FEDRA’s eyes on the main road. His fingertips brush against yours as he walks briskly next to you, staying near and looking every which way as to not have another run in with a soldier.
The city is musty, old brick buildings barely staying intact. Military tanks litter the streets while old broken down cars sit to rot around the QZ. You stay close to Joel, keeping quiet as he concentrates on getting you back to safety.
You should be grateful to him, you are grateful. He saved you, even though he really didn’t have to. He took care of your wounded cheek, made sure you got back to your place safely. You were eternally grateful for the broad man that showed you kindness when no one else did in this godforsaken city. Joel was a good man, as far as you could tell.
He leads you to your building, the one with the number four painted in white on the side of the old bricks. Your room is the first door on the right, a chip right next to the jiggling door handle.
You turn around and face him, leaning up against your solid oak door as you look up into those dark brown eyes you’ve grown accustomed of thinking about too much. “Thank you, Joel. For everything. Really, I owe you.”
He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled curls as he smiles a crooked grin your way. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, sweetheart. You gave me company, I’ll call that even enough.”
You swallow, nodding his way. “Alright then. I guess I’ll let you get back before they catch you outside your apartment.”
You turn around and twist the door handle, pushing it open until he stops you in your tracks and places his fingers around your wrist. “Wait a second.”
“Huh?” you ask, whipping back around to find him digging inside his back pocket and retrieving a little switchblade in his hand.
“Here.” He stretches his arm out and holds out the knife, nodding for you to take it. You just stare at it, your mouth open wide without even taking a step forward to take it.
“Well, go on. Take it.” He steps forward, brushing against your knuckles as he pries your fingers open and drops the knife in your palm, closing your fingers over the switchblade so you have no option but to keep it.
“Oh, no. Joel, I can’t. This is yours,” you argue.
He tsks your way, clicking his tongue and urging you to listen. “Keep it, I’d feel better knowin’ you had somethin’ to defend yourself with. Ya know if someone tries to mess with you again. Jus’ be careful with it,” he instructs.
You open your palm and assess the bronze blade, tracing the cold edges, watching the glisten of the sharp tip reflect off your eyes. You close it up and slide it in your pocket, looking back at Joel with a wide smile. “Thanks, Joel. You didn’t have to.”
“I did and stop thankin’ me. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Jus’ want you to be safe is all,” he murmurs, his deep voice carrying through your ears as he pushes his hands nervously in his jean pockets.
“Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out in a mere whisper, but he hears you through the hot wind that blows against your hair.
“Jus’ watch your back, okay? It ain’t easy around here, and you can’t trust anybody.”
“What about you?”
He knits his brows together and gives you a tight lipped smile. “You can trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He cups your chin, rough fingertips meeting your soft skin. It almost feels electric, like his fingers are magic, and maybe he is. That’s what he feels like.
His eyes hover over your lips for just a second, peeling them back up to meet your wide eyes. He’s got a soft side to him, something someone would miss if they weren’t looking close enough. You have a feeling he doesn’t let his guard down with just anyone, but with you he did, if only for just a few seconds.
He drops his hand from your chin and steps back, keeping his eyes aligned with yours. “Guess I’ll see ya around,” he says, stepping back away from your apartment.
“Yeah, guess you will,” you breathe.
He nods your way and gives you a small smile. “Have a good night, trouble.”
“Trouble?” you question, laughing at the accusation.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Trouble,” he chuckles as he makes his way back through the narrow buildings, disappearing with one more glance your way, capturing the deep brown eyes that look your way, memorizing them, burning them in the backs of your eyes so you can remember every fleck and sparkle of those sweet honey eyes.
You walk into your empty apartment and close the door, kicking off your shoes and dragging yourself to your falling apart mattress. You collapse into the cool white sheets, closing your eyes and replaying every glance, every touch, every word of you and Joel’s time together. You don’t know what’s come over you, but you clearly have fallen for the broad shouldered man with beautiful brown eyes.
Maybe the QZ wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it wouldn’t end you like you thought it would. Maybe just maybe Joel would be your saving grace. Maybe those honey glazed eyes would haunt your dreams until you saw him again. And that’s exactly what happened that night. All you saw were crystal clear brown eyes and tousled curls tracing through your fingertips, sheets drenched in the summer sweat of him. You knew then that you were fucked.
Tags: @milla-frenchy @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @aurorawritestoescape @akah565
@rav3n-pascal22 @keylimebeag
#joel miller#Joel miller x reader#joel the last of us#post outbreak joel#outbreak!joel#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller pedro pascal#protective joel
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Lights down low
Synopsis: if she can’t satisfy you, then I will
A/n- thanks for 125 followers, I’m so grateful and thankful for yall beautiful peeps.
Warning: top chae!!, sexual frustrated reader, reader being in a fwb, use of mommy, slut. Weed, strap chae!
Men dni
-
Smoke drifted lazily around the room, filling the air with its sweet and slightly acrid scent. As Chaeyoung pass the weed to you. It was a familiar, comfortable gesture, one that they had done a thousand times before.
You take a deep breath, inhaling the smoke, sighing as you exhale. Today had been a rough day for you . your boss had been particularly difficult to deal with, and your coworkers had been a constant source of irritation. So when chae text you, asking if you wanted to have a smoke session with her, you didn't even hesitate. It was exactly what you needed.
Now, here you were, in her small but cozy apartment, feeling more relaxed than you had all day. You take another drag from the joint, before passing it to chaeyoung.
As you exhale, the smoke curls lazily around your face, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. You lean back against the pillows, closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation.
-
"You think pigs will fly in the future ?" you ask with a laugh, breaking the comfortable silence between them. As you pass the joint back to chaeyoung.
"Where's this question coming from?" Chaeyoung said, still half-lazy. Her eyes flickered over to you , her gaze soft and warm, even as she held in the laugh.
"I don't know, just thought of it. You know, something to pass the time." shrugging reaching for the joint again. "But if pigs do fly, you think they'll have to wear little wings or something?"
Chaeyoung laughed, shaking her head. "I don't know, I think they'd just look ridiculous." Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the joint back, inhaling deeply before exhaling again. "Maybe they'd have tiny jetpacks or something."
"Maybe they will, who knows. But I think they'd still be pigs, you know? They'll just have little jetpacks strapped to their backs or something. Just another tool to help them get by." You said giggling softly, your eyes never leaving chaeyoung's face. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence once more, content to simply exist in each other's company, as smoke swirling around them.
-
"So, how's you and jihyun relationship going ?" Chaeyoung asked casually, her voice slightly slurred from the weed. Passing it to you , as she watched you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction.
"I wouldn’t called it a relationship. we just fuck buddies," you replied, taking the last drag , exhaling after. “same thing, just answer the question ." Chaeyoung said rolling her eyes. glancing at Chaeyoung, your eyes narrowing slightly. "Why?"
Chaeyoung smiled reassuringly, waving her hand. "No reason, no reason at all. Just curious, that's all." Her smile faded slightly as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "So... how's the sex?"
"Chae, come on. That's a bit personal, don't you think?" You glanced at Chaeyoung, searching her expression for any signs of judgment.
Chaeyoung shrugged, her lips curling into a small smile. "I'm just curious, y'know? We've been friends for so long, and we've been through everything together. I just want to make sure you're good, that's all. I won't judge. You know that."
You hesitated, glancing away for a moment before looking back at Chaeyoung. "It's... It's alright." Your voice was strained, slightly unconvincing even to your own ears.
“You are lying, y/n. you can't even look me in the eye when I ask you about it. Just admit it, and let it out with me. You can trust me with that, can't you?" Chaeyoung asked, her voice soft but insistent. She leaned in closer, her gaze unwavering as she studied your face.
You couldn’t help but look away, biting your lip as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks . finally meeting Chaeyoung's eyes again. There was something in her gaze that made you feel safe, despite the intimacy of the situation.
"Fine," you whispered. "It's not alright. It's been months since we did it…" your voice trailed off. "I'm so damn horny all the time. Jihyun barely even touches me anymore, and I just... I can't take it." The words came out in a rush, and you felt a weight lift off your chest as you finally admitted it aloud.
"Then let me help you." Chaeyoung's voice was soft, but firm. She moved closer, her hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. Her thumb traced circles on your jaw. "Tell me what you want, what you need. You can trust me with that, can you?"
your eyes fluttered closed, tilting into Chaeyoung's touch. "I want..." you swallowed hard, feeling the words caught in your throat. "…you to fuck me ." gasping out the words, your hips pressing against Chaeyoung's hand almost involuntarily.
"I want you to touch me, to make me feel wanted again. Please, Chaeyoung, I can't take it anymore."
Chaeyoung's heart skipped a beat at the words, but she kept her expression neutral, her hand moving to stroke your hair back from your face. "Do you mean like this?" she asked, her voice low and seductive as she leaned in and pressed their lips together.
The kiss was soft and gentle at first, but it quickly deepened as their tongues met, dancing together in a heated exchange. you moaned into the kiss, as your hands tangling in Chaeyoung's hair, and your hips moving rhythmically against Chaeyoung's. Chaeyoung responded eagerly, her free hand slipping beneath your shirt to caress your bare back.
Her hands moved down, unbuttoning and pushing aside your pants, revealing a wet and eager sex. "Fuck," she breathed, looking down at your aroused body.
“So wet for me already princess ," Chaeyoung murmured, her voice low and husky as she continued to stroke you through your underwear. She leaned in, taking a kiss at the sensitive spot where your thigh met her hip before moving lower, sucking on the soft skin of your inner thigh.
Chaeyoung smiled against your skin, her breath hot against your sensitive flesh. She slipped her hand back between them, pushing your underwear aside, and finally touching you in the way you have been aching for. Her fingers were cool and wet as they circled your clit, teasing you while her other hand moved up to gently cup your breast through your shirt. She rolled her nipple between her fingers, applying just enough pressure to make you moan loudly.
"That's it," she breathed, her voice rough with desire as she continued to stroke and tease you. "Keep moaning for me." Her free hand moved lower, parting your folds, her fingers sliding easily inside . She thrust her fingers in and out, in time with her circling thumb on your clit, as she watched your hips began to move in response.
"Chaeyoung... please..." you let out, as she increased the pressure , her fingers moving deeper inside of you . "I'm close..."
“Close already?” Chaeyoung teased, her voice laced with desire as she thrust her fingers harder inside of you , her thumb pressing harder against your clit.
“I think you can hold it for me baby”
"Oh, fuck, Chaeyoung ..." you whimpered, feeling the familiar tightness building in your core.
Chaeyoung smiled wickedly, her gaze locked down to you as she continued to stroke and tease you . "You wanted this, so take it princess ." Her fingers thrust deeper inside of you , curling to hit just the right spot, as her thumb circled and pressed harder against you.
You were so close, so close to feeling the release you have been craving all day. And she knew that . "Please, Chae..."
She smiled, her eyes burning with desire as she watched you struggle against the pleasure. "That's it, baby. You’re doing good. Just hold it for me."as she goes up to kiss you.
You couldn’t take it anymore, not with the way her fingers are hitting the right spot. It was all too much for you . "Chaeyoung, please..." you begged. "I can't... I'm going to..."
Chaeyoung smiled, watching you struggle. It’s something that she would love to see again and again . "That's it, princess . Let go. Give it all to me." Her other hand moved up, cupping your breast, rolling your hardened nipple between her fingers.
Your cries echoed through the room, as you met your orgasm. you clung onto chaeyoung as she continued to stroke you , her fingers moving slowly inside of you letting you ride down your orgasm.
Slowly she move up to kiss you . Chaeyoung's other hand moved up, cupping your breast, squeezing gently as she pinched her hardened nipple between her fingers.
“ you think we are done here princess? baby we only just begun.” Chaeyoung said walking to her dresser and pull out a strap . She walked back to you . carefully tying it around her waist, making sure it was just tight enough. She smiled before climbing on top of you . She lowered her hips and positioned herself over you , feeling the warmth from your body .
She line the strap against you as she drags the tip down slowly, teasing you before she finally enters.
You arch your back, letting out a moan as she begins to thrust inside you. Your fingers dig into her hips, feeling the muscles shift and flex beneath your touch. The friction is almost unbearable, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Every time she thrusts, it's deeper, harder, like she's trying to consume you completely.
Chaeyoung leans down, her breath hot against your neck. "You're so tight, so perfect. I could do this all night." Her words send a shiver down your spine, and she responds by thrusting harder, faster. Her hips slap against yours, their rhythm growing more intense with each passing moment.
“ am I better than jihyun? Fucking you so hard , giving you what you want” Chaeyoung grunted as she continued to thrust into you , her hips moving faster and faster. the feeling cause you to look away.
“ look at me when I’m talking to you princess, I’m not going to ask you again .” Grabbing your chin, Chaeyoung forces you to meet her gaze. Her eyes narrow, and she gives you a challenging grin.
“ yes mommy, you are better than her. ." Looking back at her, as your fingers dig into Chaeyoung's back, leaving scratches as you arches your body further into each thrust.
“Good girl that’s what I want to hear.” Chaeyoung grunted as she continued to thrust. Her free hand reached down between their bodies, finding your clit, and began to rub circles around it. As your hips bucked up, meeting each thrust as you felt herself getting closer to the edge again. Making you grab Chaeyoung more tightly as her strap went deeper inside of you.
“ look at you . So needy for my strap like the desperate slut you are.” Chaeyoung growls, her hips slamming into you harder and faster. The pleasure coursing through you is almost too much to bear, and you feels the familiar tightening in your stomach, the impending release just seconds away.
Chaeyoung leans down, nipping at your earlobe before whispering, "cum for me, Y/n." The words send a shiver through your already trembling body. Your hips buck wildly against Chaeyoung's thrusts, feeling the strap slide in and out of you with each movement. The sensation is exquisite, overwhelming, and you feel yourself on the brink.
As your orgasm builds, Chaeyoung's thrusts become more frenzied, her hips slamming against you in a relentless rhythm. The strap inside you tightens, and you cries out as your body convulses with an intense, shuddering orgasm.
Chaeyoung slows down, her thrusts growing deeper and more deliberate as she feels your body trembling beneath hers. Her free hand cups your cheek, gently stroking her skin as she leans down to kiss you.
Pulling out the strap, Chaeyoung tosses it aside. You lie there, catching your breath, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through your body as she settles in beside you. She reaches out, tenderly tracing the lines of your face with a finger, as if committing every detail to memory.
“I like you, y/n. call off the friends with benefits with jihyun and be mine.” Chaeyoung whispers, her eyes locked on yours.
"I've liked you for a while now," she admits quietly, "but I wasn't sure if you felt the same. And when I heard about you and jihyun . It made me jealous, knowing that she could have this moment with you "
The air between you feels charged, electric. Your heart races as you stare into those deep brown eyes, trying to read the emotion behind them.
“I like you too chae”you manage to get out.
Chaeyoung's smile widens, and she leans in to kiss you again, more tenderly this time. Her lips are soft and warm against yours, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. As you pull away, you can't help but notice the way the dim light from the bedside lamp casts a warm glow over her skin, making her look even more beautiful than she already does.
You reach out, tracing a finger along her jawline, feeling the soft skin beneath your touch. " I didn't want to lose you as a friend. So I tried to brush my feelings away by being jihyun fuck buddy" you confess.
"But I think I could handle losing Jihyun if it meant being with you."
Chaeyoung's eyes widen, and a slow smile spreads across her face. "You're sweet," she whispers, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, she pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you, and you feel the warmth of her body against yours. You can't help but wonder what the future holds for you now that y’all had both finally admitted y’all feelings for each other.
#twice#twice x reader#twice scenarios#kpop x reader#twice chaeyoung#son chaeyoung#chaeyoung x reader#son chaeyoung x reader#chaengie#chae#cry4tzu#men dni#men biggest hater#strap chae can fu…#twice nayeon#minatozaki sana
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Midnight Church Bells
↳ Andrew and his brother sneak out.
↳ 2k words / also available on ao3!
↳ This fic is literally a year old lmao?? I was sorting through docs and found this finished draft, so I polished it a bit and here we are. Please forgive past me if the prose is... how we say 'shit'.
The holidays always snuck up on Andrew the same - sudden and unwelcome, but inevitable. This year, he’d been too invested in his studies, and, surprisingly, his own love life to notice much of withering leaves or decorations, but when he turned on the radio and heard those familiar jingles, he groaned in recognition.
Really, it was none of those things (despite how much he did tire of those songs) that bittered Christmas for him. It was the fact that once the break started, his family would come calling. And despite all protests, his parents would never let him stay at college during the advent.
“It’s time for the Lord.” His mother’s voice lifted through the phone he propped up on his dashboard. “And family,” she added after a moment. He resisted the urge to slam his head against the steering wheel, instead opting for biting his tongue. The one time his parents didn’t want him studying.
Her saying that added to the sting of the season. And family. It seemed that this was the only time of year where that was on her mind.
Which all led him to the same spot he was every December 24th: Sitting on his childhood bed, with whatever book he was currently reading in his hands, and classical music playing from his phone.
Reclining into his pillow, Andrew lifted his glasses off and put them on the bedside table, a thumb folding the wings as the other worked as a bookmark.
Yet he didn’t close his eyes. For one of those brief moments in life, he wasn’t thinking, or sleeping, or doing really anything at all. He was just there, in a limbo between sleep and consciousness, hoping that if he purposely derived himself the next day wouldn’t come as quickly.
And he stayed like that for 5 minutes. Or maybe it was 10, or maybe no time passed at all. But eventually he gave in to rest. No matter what, the morning would come and he’d rather not fall asleep during the already tedious sermons in church. So he set an alarm, put his book on the nightstand, and laid down.
He closed his eyes, and it was like he could hear the ringing already.
Maybe he did.
A soft patter-ing rang just outside his door, the familiar sound of footsteps on carpet blotting the silence. And just as he was about to roll over, Andrew heard his door creak open, and the silhouette of a man leaned into the room.
“Want to go on a walk?” He whispered, twinged with a sense of boredom.
Andrew didn’t even need to turn to know who was asking. “Give me a moment,” he sighed, and motioned to push himself off the bed.
—
“How did you know I was awake?” Andrew asked, still pulling his overcoat over his arms.
“Your light was on, I saw it through your door.” His brother responded, turning off their driveway onto the sidewalk. He was slightly ahead of Andrew, but slowed a bit so that they were walking together.
A cloud of mist formed from his breath as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling the coat closer to himself to save some of his last remaining body heat. A near-midnight flit wasn’t what he had planned, but he’d prefer it than trying to sleep. Besides, this may be the only quality time he could spend with his twin during the break. God knows the time they’ve spent at college has already distanced them enough.
“So,” he huffed, searching for a topic of conversation. “How have you been?”
“Fine. Uni’s been beating my ass though - we spent practically the entire week leading up to the holidays in the lab, just sweating over our assignments. Jesus, I’m not even a Biochem major but Chemistry is just not letting up.”
It had been years since he was in a lab, but with the track he was on, he got the stress with ‘crunch time’. “I understand. I’ve recently had to rush a project for my Literary Theory course.”
“What do you even do in that class?” He questioned, half serious, half mocking.
“Analyze texts, find out how the culture of the author influenced their works.” He could go on: Literary Theory was one of his favorite classes, no matter how rigorous the course was, but he knew his brother wouldn’t care to hear the details.
Winding down their street, the two carried on talking about academia with a partial interest, not fully understanding either’s field of study but trying to be supportive anyways. Soughing wind bent branches to a static beat as they approached the neighborhood's egress. By and by they were talking about the more social aspects of their schooling: Andrew’s literature club, the parties either rarely attended, his brother’s friends.
“How has your roommate been?” Andrew asked, kicking a rock under his shoe and watching it roll along the concrete.
“Good.” He sighed out a laugh. “He’s great, actually.”
Andrew glanced over to his brother, and if the slight warmth in his voice wasn’t enough, the red on his cheeks told him everything he needed to know. He chuckled too, and gave a soft nudge on his shoulder, making them both smile.
In a weird way, they never needed to tell eachother about any of this stuff. Equal parts the awkwardness that surrounded telling your sibling, your twin of all people, who you were interested in and an unspoken alliance against their parents had kept them from ever openly speaking it. But Andrew knew his brother was into guys ever since they were teens, he just didn’t know if his brother had caught on to his own preferences yet.
The stone made a sharp sound as it drifted over to his brother, who promptly kicked it back to Andrew with the inside of his shoe.
“Helios, right?”
His brother hummed in response.
His mind trailed to the man at his college, the one who he had desperately wanted to introduce to him, and found himself grinning at the mere thought. God, he hoped Isaac would like his brother.
He opened his mouth, then shut it quickly. What would he even say? He trusted his brother, but to come out was something entirely different, and with Christmas just around the corner? No, he’d wait. Right after, though, he’d tell him. Andrew silently swore it to himself.
“Honestly, I prefer the dorms to the house.”
That snapped Andrew out of his thinking. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He stopped abruptly, and threw his arms out in exasperation. “Isn’t it suffocating to you too?”
Everytime he was in his room, Andrew could only remember the sleepless nights he spent hunched over and studying. The dining table was a barrage of moments he spent silent as his parents and brother fought. The living room was a danger zone, as he never wanted to catch his parents when they were disappointed in his brother, or worse, him. The whole house could burn down and the only memories that would go with it were the most futile. Worse was, even without flames, Andrew felt like he wadded through smoke every time he was in those walls.
He silently nodded his head. His brother just stared at him, as if he wanted voice confirmation. But how can one speak up against the pyre when its fumes had already scorched his vocal cords?
After a moment, his brother kept walking, and Andrew followed. “I contemplated not coming back this winter.” He muttered.
“As did I.” Andrew responded, suddenly getting his voice back.
“What could you possibly be avoiding?”
A million and one answers filled his head, but none escaped him - no matter what he said, not a single one would measure up to his brother's reasons. So why even bother trying to compare?
His twin huffed as he turned away, suddenly gaining some distance on Andrew, and he let him keep it.
For a while, the only sound they made was their shoes against concrete sidewalks and the crunch as they occasionally had to step into snow. Andrew brought his hands up to his face, cupping them to breathe and warm himself up. Normally he kept gloves in his pockets, just in case. But, of course, he just had to forget them tonight. His fingers combed through his hair, forcing him to look straight ahead at his brother's back. Again, he bit his tongue. But wasn’t that what had gotten him into this situation, unintentionally pushing his brother away by not talking? He didn’t understand it, but only continuing the cycle wasn’t going to help anything.
So he opened his mouth, just in time to slam right into his brother.
He stumbled, but his brother didn’t flinch. Or even look at Andrew. His eyes remained trained to the tree line, frozen in place.
Regaining his footing, Andrew tried again. “Dar-“
“Stop.” He whispered.
“No, D-“
“Shut up, Andrew, just listen.”
So he did.
For a few seconds, he didn’t hear anything. His eyes fell where his brother’s were focused, though without his glasses, the details were fuzzy.
Then, a distant chime hit his ear.
More followed.
A symphony of church bells rang, each peal like a glimmer in the air.
Andrew knew they rang the bells at midnight every Christmas Eve, though he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard them. During mass, he could imagine it would be unbearable. But from here? The sound was quite pleasant.
As the bells continued, the twins stood there, listening to it all. Andrew was the first to tear his eyes away from the church he couldn’t see, glancing over at his brother through the corner of his eye. It was the first good look he had gotten at him in a long time.
Andrew hadn’t realized how short a decade was. Though in context of anything else, the last ten years of his life had dawdled. But with his brother? It was like the blink of an eye. One moment they were running and laughing, a mirror image of one another - even the Christmas’ were tolerable. Fun, even. The next, blooming into adulthood - mimics of who they used to be.
In fact, the longer he looked at him, Andrew realized just how much his brother had changed. His hair had definitely grown, locked into a short ponytail that hung low with swooping bangs, and he made the full switch to contacts some time ago. He even got taller, and next to Andrew, he was a lofty inch or two higher. Though that could also be accredited to the boots he wore. (Ashamed to say, Andrew didn’t remember when or how he got them. They certainly weren’t a gift from their parents, but did his brother even have a job to afford them?) He was more muscular, which wasn’t saying much compared to Andrew, but he was certainly leaner. The man never made a mention of continuing his secondary school athletics, but maybe he did as an extracurricular? Again, Andrew was straining to remember specifics. Though, he supposed any reason to play was now null, as originally it was a brilliant excuse to come home late without his parents accusing him of deviancy.
But he wasn’t too alien to him. There was something still familiar to him, like flecks of gold shining through, no matter how small. After all, they began to sneak out when they were fourteen and are still doing it now. There must be something that still connected them.
Right?
Just as he had that thought, he missed his brother's pass, and the pebble went flying into a curb.
They walked in silence for a while longer, bells fading to the wind. Eventually they found themselves back on their driveway, and their silence became deafening as they lightened their footsteps. God knows what their parents would do if they found out they had been out so late.
They followed one another up the stairs, crossed the same hallway, and went to rooms adjoining. There was a time they shared one, but that was before they had moved.
Andrew slipped open his door, the knob turning slowly as to mute itself. As he slipped in, he turned half-way to see his brother doing the same.
His brother looked up, catching his gaze.
Andrew saw himself in the reflection of his eyes. They were bitter, burning with… not rage. But a violent form of disappointment.
Andrew was the center of it. And he could smell the smoke wafting.
#MARSTON TWINS I'VE MISSED YOU#this was the first fic I ever wrote for this fandom!!#finally saw the light of day (escaped google docs)#also yes this lines up with the underground ravens theory because of course it freaking does#sakuverse#zsakuva#andrew marston#zsakuva andrew#marston twins#“twin” marston#they kick rocks
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Mushy May Day 22
long drives- rulti- swiss rain talk while cirrus sleeps in the back seat. Things are changing around the abbey, and rain looks to stop the ache in his bones.
As usual thank you to icon @forlorn-crows for the prompts this month
The street lights illuminated cirrus’s sleeping form in the back seat. Laid across the cushions with her hands under her head as a makeshift pillow, her knees scrunched up to fit in the confined space.
“Remind me to call dibs first next time” rain grumbled in the passenger seat, his own legs bunched up against him in an attempt to get comfortable after the long car ride.
Swiss tapped his hands on the steering wheel rhythmically, long miles of highway and nothing else in front of them. “Then who would keep me company up here?”
“Cirrus, duh.”
“Cirrus needs her sleep otherwise she gets irritable, I think you should let her have it” Swiss took a quick glance behind him to look at her. Her hair covered her face as she snored softly.
“I need my sleep, otherwise I get irritable” rain grumbled, throwing his head back against the head rest.
“I know tadpole” Swiss giggled.
The radio hummed softly in the background. A static station that played mostly old rock music, nothing Swiss or rain cared much about but it was better than silence.
They sat in a comfortable state of not talking for a couple minutes. Rain shifted in his seat a couple times to try and quell the dull ache in his hips while Swiss continued to keep his eyes on the road, side glancing rain and cirrus every once in a while just to be sure they were alright.
“I’m surprised she’s been asleep this whole time, usually she tends to get carsick” rain spoke after a while.
“She’s been stressed, I’m glad she’s finally been able to knock out for a bit” Swiss gave his own yawn, raising an arm above his head in an attempt to stretch in the small space.
“Has she not been sleeping again?”
“Na, she’s been in my bed most nights. Usually she has cumulus to calm her down but even with me it wasn’t much. I could tell she was still awake most of the night”
It was typical of cirrus to be a bad sleeper, but the stress of everything recently didn’t help. it was most of the reason she would slink into Swiss’s hotel room on the trip because she was sure he would be up at whatever ungodly hour she had decided to give up on sleeping alone. Even if he was asleep, she knew he would understand more than anyone.
“You’ve been stressed too, I can tell” rain moved to turn the radio down. The static was almost too much, both knowing that the changes around the abbey had been getting to them.
“I’m fine tadpole, things will blow over”
The passing lights created patterns on rains lap as he stared down in thought. Dancing shapes and reflections to distract his eyes as his brain continued to mull over the situation. Aether and Sunny would be gone, moved to where the older ghouls all stayed.
Sure they were still there in the abbey, but there was always a worry that they would move on and have fun with the older ghouls instead, or that the rest of their pack would embrace the new ghouls so much that aether Sunny would be left forgotten as he knows the other have been. Rain doesn’t remember the last time he saw River and lake.
“But will they be the same?”
Swiss sighed, chewing on his lip. There wasn’t a good answer.
“No, but nothing ever really stays the same does it?”
“No it doesn’t.” Rain sighed. A heavy feeling settled in his chest at the thought. Realistically nothing could ever stay exactly the same always, but the fear of the unknown was always present.
“You can’t stop time waterlily. Things will always work out, they always have. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it”
“It’s a bit too late for that”
“I know, but good things happen with change too. Just embrace it and we can deal with whatever problems arise together ok?”
Rain smiled, leaning back into his seat. The promise of together lessening the pressure in his chest. He turned to look back at cirrus, who had rolled over to face the back of the backseats.
“Ok”
#mushy may 2024#mushy may#rain ghoul#swiss ghoul#cirrus ghoulette#fanfic#the band ghost#ghost#nameless ghouls#ghost bc#wrath writes
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Meat Cute, Chapter 5
Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 5 ->Next
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Rating: Mature (rating may change)
Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing
---
In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!
---
“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”
–--
A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.
---
Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!
Most days, Charlie's incessant prattling amused Alastor. It was one of the few traits they both shared after all; the ability to pick up the threads of dropped conversations and weave them into something new. Usually a pithy quip on his part while Charlie would provide some long-winded tirade about friendship and optimism; nonsensical sorts of things that Alastor didn’t spare much thought towards.
Generally, it was an effortless feat for Alastor to redirect Charlie's attention and energy onto something or someone else; goodness knows that the residents of their hotel could generously be described as an absolute mess most of the time. There was always some sort of disaster brewing that the little Princess couldn't help but insert herself into. A lovers tiff here, a genocide there, another new guest with an uninspired tale of woe that required comfort and a supportive embrace or two.
But there was a stubborn streak in Charlie today that kept her focus fully on the Overlord. And while he usually never shied away from being the center of attention, Alastor had to admit that he was beginning to grow increasingly weary of her present line of questioning.
“-so what do you think? Are you willing to give it a shot?” Charlie asked, her entire body practically quivering in anticipation for his answer.
“Hmm? I'm sorry, I must have drifted off for a moment there. What were you saying?” Alastor apologized, his eyes alight with false sincerity.
“Oh, come on! There was no way you tuned out that entire musical number!” Charlie groaned in frustration. “I hit like, three super high notes! There was confetti-”
“I was dancin’,” a passing sanitation worker interjected, unceremoniously dumping a bin full of used hypodermic needles into the back of an idling trash truck.
“-the garbageman was dancing, Alastor!”
“I’m sure it was a most spectacular sight!” Alastor assured him.
“Damn right it was,” the garbage man grumbled under his breath as he hefted a heavily stained mattress into his arms.
“Okay, just- ugh! ” Charlie sighed, dragging a hand down her face in exasperation. “Forget the song-”
“Way ahead of you, my dear!” Alastor grinned, spinning his staff merrily as he set off down the sidewalk, Charlie quickly catching up despite his longer stride.
“I'm just worried, Alastor. You haven't really made any effort to open up to anyone at the hotel.”
“Haven't you ever heard the saying about mixing business and pleasure? I'm merely maintaining a professional demeanor. I would hate for the sterling reputation of our fine establishment to be tarnished by unprofessionalism!” Alastor explained, wiggling his fingers at a passing sinner who cowered under the oppressive weight of Alastor's fleeting glance.
“See, this is exactly what I mean!” Charlie shouted, frantically waving at all the pedestrians ducking down alleys and darting recklessly into oncoming traffic to avoid having to cross paths with the Radio Demon. “People are afraid of you, Alastor.”
“As well they should be! I am an Overlord after all, my dear. Being terrifying is part of the job description.”
“Yes, I know that! But the problem is that everyone is afraid of you.”
“Are they now? I guess most people must be smarter than they look!” Alastor laughed in delight as Charlie's consternation grew.
“I'm being serious here! Even the people at the hotel are still…uncomfortable with you,” Charlie offered diplomatically. “Which isn't what the hotel is supposed to be about. It's supposed to be a place of friendship and comradery- where people can feel safe enough to open up and be vulnerable.”
Charlie paused in her explanation to gesture to the palpable air of malevolence that radiated from her hotelier.
“And you come off as everything but safe.”
“Oh, stop it! You're making me blush!” Alastor cooed, lifting a coy hand to cradle his pale cheek.
“Alastor,” Charlie sighed, quickly shuffling around him on the sidewalk so she could place herself directly in his path, forcing him to come to an abrupt halt and look into her pleading eyes. “Please. I need the hotel to be a success. And I think that's what you want, too. For whatever reason.”
Alastor was quiet as he examined the determined jut of Charlie's chin, his head tilting slightly to the side in consideration. “What exactly is it that you require of me?”
“To be friendly. To honestly try and connect with someone.”
“Shall I braid your hair then? Gossip with the Effeminate Fellow about boys? ”
“Those are both great ideas! But they…don't really seem like your thing,” Charlie hesitantly admitted. “Why don't you start out with something you're good at?”
“Torture?”
“Talking.”
“If you insist,” Alastor sighed. “But my suggestion would be considerably more entertaining.”
“Hey, you never know where a good conversation might lead! Just look at me and Vaggie!,” the Princess chirped excitedly, her eyes sparkling in delight at the mere thought of her taciturn partner. “She would barely say two words to me when we met and now we tell each other everything!”
“Ahhh,” Alastor narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Is that your angle? To find me a partner? A paramour? To try to soften me up with affection? ”
“What? No, that's not it at all!” Charlie rushed to assure him, her hands flapping wildly in front of her body as though she could physically waft away the misunderstanding. “I mean, it would be great if you could find someone like that, you know, if- if you wanted to! It's nice to have someone to care about- to care about you , in that way.”
“Please, do elaborate,” Alastor said, gesturing in front of himself with an exaggerated wave of his hand, encouraging Charlie to continue down the hopelessly cracked and pitted sidewalk towards Cannibal Town.
“Oh- uhhh,” Charlie sputtered, stumbling over her own legs slightly as she moved to fall into step beside Alastor, her fingers nervously twiddling around each other as she struggled to find the words to explain herself. “Partners are, well- it's sort of like being friends, but more? Better, I guess? You talk with them and spend time with them like friends, but they just-”
Charlie paused, heaving in a deep sigh as she imagined her girlfriend in her mind's eye, and tried to verbalize all the wonderful feelings that Vaggie cultivated in her heart.
“When you see someone you love, your day just instantly brightens. You get excited thinking about the next time you see them- it feels like a bunch of moths are fluttering around inside of your belly.”
Alastor's upper lip curled up in revulsion. “And that's a desirable feeling? Intestinal insects?”
“Well, not when you put it that way,” Charlie huffed, crossing her arms across her chest in frustration. “It's something you can't really explain unless you've experienced it.”
Alastor was unusually quiet, the ambient humming that surrounded him barely audible as they continued on their way. For a moment, Charlie worried that she had maybe gone too far; that she had drawn an exclusive circle around herself and her experiences that painted Alastor as even more of an outsider than he already was. An apology sat perched on her tongue, ready to assure him that it was okay to never have felt these things, when Alastor spoke up.
“It doesn’t feel like fluttering ,” Alastor drawled, his free hand pressed against his abdomen pensively. “It’s more akin to a gnawing sensation.”
“Wait- ,” Charlie gasped, quickly sucking in a lungful of the humid Hellish air. “Alastor, is there- is there someone you have feelings for?”
“Upon reflection I do believe there might be, based on your exceptionally vivid description of the experience,” Alastor informed her with an excited grin, pushing open the reinforced glass door of a building and ushering Charlie over the threshold ahead of him with a courteous incline of his head.
“Ooooohhhhh, Alastor!” Charlie squealed, bouncing on her toes in barely suppressed jubilation as she queued up in the short line in front of the register. “Who is it? How long have you known them? Can I meet them? Do you think they like you back? Wait- that's too many questions! I'm sorry! But I'm just so excited for you!”
“It's fine, my dear! Perfectly understandable,” Alastor reassured her with an indulgent laugh. “And of course you can meet them, if that's what you'd like.”
“YES! ” Charlie yelled, only realizing how loud she was once all the numerous eyes of both the customers and the walls of the store quickly shifted their focus onto her. She coughed into her fist and straightened her lapels in embarrassment as she waited for the other customers to lose interest and turn away. “I mean- that is to say, it would be lovely to meet them at your earliest convenience.”
“But of course!” Alastor agreed readily as he stepped with Charlie to the front of the line. “Here she comes now!”
“Now?” Charlie squawked, spinning around frantically in quick circles to try and catch a glimpse of who in the store Alastor might be referring to.
“Here you are, Alastor, Sir,” you announced with a nervous grin, sliding a large, paper-wrapped parcel across the counter. “One whole venison round, as requested.”
“Thank you, my dear!” Alastor said as he took hold of the meat, vanishing it to locations unknown with a quick snap of his fingers. “I was wondering if I might trouble you for a moment longer, though?”
Sweat immediately began to gather at your hairline as you tried to swallow down the bile creeping up your throat. “Is- is there a problem with your order?”
“No, no, nothing like that!” Alastor assured you with a sharp grin that did little to settle your nerves. “It has recently been brought to my attention that I am enamored with you.”
All sounds inside the butcher shop abruptly halted, like the entire store had been sucked into a vacuum; customer's jaws hanging slack in shock at the unexpected confession.
“You're what?” You squeak in obvious distress, casting pleading glances at your coworkers who were quietly peeking in through a slim crack through the backroom door, eager to spy on the unfolding drama.
“Enamored, my dear! Beguiled! Infatuated! Smitten, if you will.”
“You… like me?” You muttered dumbly as your brain struggled to process the bizarre scene you had found yourself thrust into the middle of.
“Apparently!” Alastor laughed, reaching behind himself to tug his companion to his side. “See, I was chatting with my associate here, Charlie, the Princess of Hell-”
“Your Grace,” you croak dryly, dropping into what was hopefully a passable curtsy.
“Hey, uh- nice to meet you!” Charlie greeted with a stiff wave and an even stiffer smile.
“-and she made me realize what my true feelings for you were! How you make my day better, how I look forward to the next time I see you, how you make my stomach rumble, ” Alastor growled lowly, his already towering form seeming to elongate as he loomed over you.
“...It ah- it sounds like maybe you're just… hungry whenever you see me?”
“Perhaps!” Alastor cackled, his staticy laugh even more distorted up close. “But one man's passion is another man's hunger, as they say!”
“Do they say that? Is that a thing people say?! ” You whispered manically towards Charlie, her shoulders jumping up towards her ears in a helpless shrug.
“Gastrointestinal palpitations aside, you can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow, his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place; afraid that any sudden movement might somehow cause him to pounce. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”
“RIGHT , okay!” Charlie interrupted with a nervous laugh, slamming a handful of bills down onto the counter as she managed to mercifully push herself between the Radio Demon and the meat counter. “So sorry, but we have to go- there's important hotel business we need to get back to! It was lovely meeting you, have a nice day, BYE!”
You were still staring at the door minutes after Charlie had frantically pulled Alastor out of the store, only snapping out of your daze when your manager shuffled up beside you, nose buried in the employee handbook.
“I've triple checked and experiencing sudden romantic overtones isn't grounds for taking personal leave,” he explained, pointing to the exact passage in the well-worn guide. “You're gonna’ have to finish out your shift.”
“Of course,” you replied distantly, unable to meaningfully focus on anything other than your racing thoughts and the strange, muffled ringing in your ears. “What about if I pass out?”
“Says here you'll get a fifteen minute break and a strong cup of tea.”
“Better put the kettle on then,” you mumbled as your knees buckled, vision going black as you plummeted towards the floor. Your manager looked down at your crumpled body and sighed, nudging you out of the way with his foot and stepping up to the register.
“Next in line!”
#alastor x y/n#alastor x female reader#alastor x you#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader#pigeoncoos🕊#hazbin hotel x female reader
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Yew (Part 2)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Relationship: Male Centaur/Male Centaur
Additional Tags: Exophilia, Centaurs, MLM, Sex
Content Warnings: Amputee, Amputated Leg, Prosthetics
Series: Part 12 of Monster Lovers: Shelter Forest
Words: 4,911
Yew finally gets his own fic! Yew makes his very first rescue: a surly centaur dumped on the side of the road. Please reblog and leave feedback!
It took more than two months for Ethari to even attempt moving around for longer than a few seconds. The trip to the latrine had caused his fever to spike quite high again, so he was largely immobile for another week afterward. A modified pan was created for his use, which made things a little easier, but he grumbled sourly about it. Ethari’s stump was closed up and the stitches removed, but he was instructed not to do anything that would reopen the wound. After months of healing, however, he was finally in a place where he didn’t feel like pounded garbage, though he was still weak and shaky.
Ethari was still mistrustful of the entire situation. He didn’t believe they were helping him for no other reason than they wanted to help; in his experience, everything came with a price. He made an effort to not be aggressive or hostile, but everything about this place got his hackles up. He was just so ready for the other hoof to drop that he felt like he couldn’t relax. He would have been more comfortable if they had been demanding compensation for feeding and housing him; that would have made sense to him. The freedom with which they doled out care and attention seemed impossible, even suspicious.
Yew did a lot to shake Ethari’s faith in the idea that nothing comes for free. He was always chipper and bright, like a lighthouse, and just as any such beacon would, he drew Ethari’s eye when he was nearby. He was always there to help when Ethari needed to get up and move around to prevent his remaining legs from atrophying, by using his own body as support. Yew even brought fresh winter flowers every day to decorate Ethari’s relatively bare stall. It seemed he favored snow-drops, since he always sprinkled them into each bouquet. He always found a way to wrangle beer from Birch, who still didn’t like Ethari, and brought him treats from the winter larder. His persistent cheeriness made Ethari feel more dour in comparison.
“Why do you keep doing this?” Ethari asked him one morning.
“Doing what?” Yew asked, his curious puppy tone in place. Yew was removing the last of the bandages after having brought him apple jam and wheat crackers with his beer and flowers… just because, it seemed.
“This,” Ethari replied, waving at the scene.
Yew laughed. “Because you’re cute, I like you.”
Ethari blinked and his head rocked back. “Excuse me?”
“I like you,” Yew said, meeting his eye and smiling. “I think you’re cute.”
“Wha… who… cute how?” Ethari asked, flabbergasted. “What about me is cute? I’m grumpy and sour.”
“I think that’s cute,” He said, tilting his head. “Am I not allowed to think it’s cute?”
“I guess you are, but it makes you a weirdo,” Ethari snipped.
Yew laughed a bit more: a tinkling, bell-like sound. “I’m alright with that. Does me thinking you’re cute bother you?”
“Well… no…” Ethari said slowly. “I guess not. You’re… do you…”
“Like men?” Yew asked with a grin. “Yep. And you, apparently, are just my type. Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are by the realization.”
Ethari didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
“Would it bother you that I like you?” Yew asked with the same cheeky grin, though there was a hint of apprehension.
Ethari gulped. “...no.”
Ethari was only a year or two older than Yew, and though he had a passing crushes on one or two of the others at the ranch, building relationships there, friendships even, were heavily discouraged on threat of punishment, so he had never acted on it nor attempted to make friends or lovers. Now that he was off the ranch…
“Cetzu is coming back with your prosthesis,” Yew told him. “He sent us a letter saying that should be here tomorrow, barring any unforeseen circumstances. He’s only fitting you with the prosthetic tomorrow, so you won’t be using it right away. Mama will let you know when you can start using it.”
“Fine,” Ethari replied, moving the stump a little to ease the tense muscles.
“Mama gave me a salve for you, too,” Yew said, pointing at a jar next to the jam and crackers. “You’ll need it for the muscle aches and the flashes of pain. Do you think you’re able to put it on by yourself?”
“I’ll do fine,” Ethari insisted. “You’re awful fond of that mama of yours.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yew said with a chuckle. “She’s my mama.”
“She’s not even your real mother.”
“Yes, she is,” Yew said, his tone suddenly cold, and it was the first time Ethari saw a flash of anger in Yew’s eyes directed at him. “And you don’t get to say otherwise. Nobody does.”
“Alright, alright,” Ethari said, taken aback. “Sorry, damn. I’m just saying, you’ve got all that love for a human, but what about your birth mother?”
“I don’t know who she is. Or my birth father, for that matter. Never met ‘em.”
“What do you mean? How do you not know the person who gave birth to you?”
“The ranch where I came from practiced forced breeding. My birth mother gave birth to me against her will. We were taken away from our mothers at birth and raised in isolation by the ranch hands, to discourage us from forming bonds with the other centaurs. The only one I was ever close to was Birch, and that was only because he was the one in the stall next to mine. Once I was given a stall, that is. The ‘nursery’ they kept us in was basically a closet”
“Gods,” Ethari breathed, blinking. “Is that place here? In this country?”
“No, it’s on the big continent up north. We swam here to get away.”
“Good on you for that,” Ethari said. “Gods. I can’t imagine not having my mother there. It was the one thing that made that place bearable.”
“How did she die? Was she worked to death?”
Ethari frowned in horror. “Was that common on your ranch?”
“Oh, yeah, happened all the time.”
“My word. No, no, she was ill for a while before her death.” Ethari squinted suspiciously at Yew. “How are you so damned cheery, after all that? That would break the spirit of most people.”
Yew shrugged. “I was only seven when we escaped, so maybe I wasn’t fully broken yet. In any case, no matter what happened back then, it’s back then. It doesn’t matter to me now. I’m happy now. I love the farm, even though the work is similar to the ranch. It’s hard work, but it doesn’t feel bad to do it like it did on the ranch. I even enjoy it. The food that I plant and pull up nourishes my family and keeps them well and happy, and that makes me happy in turn. It’s hard to be sad in this place. It’s like heaven to me. I never, ever want to leave here.”
Ethari was quiet for a moment, contemplative.
“Do you think I could be like that?” He asked suddenly.
“Like what?”
“Like you. Happy. I don’t even know what that feels like. I don’t know if I’m capable of it.”
Yew laughed incredulously. “Sure you are, everyone is. It’s just a matter of finding something that makes you happy. For me, it’s this place. My siblings must feel the same way, too, since many of them have decided to stay, even after marrying and having children. This place is a balm for the soul. What’s that thing in the desert where there’s water? O…oasis? It’s like that.”
“Could it be like that for me?” Ethari wondered, mainly to himself.
“Time will tell, I suppose.” Yew stood from his kneeling position and made to leave. “But I certainly hope so. Now eat your jam, you need your energy.”
“Sure, sure,” Ethari said, waving him off.
Cetzu did, indeed, arrive the next day, meeting Ethari in his stall with a wooden leg he had carved. There were straps and cloth padding added to the attachment, but it still looked like it would be very uncomfortable. Getting used to it would be a chore, he could already tell.
“Do you think I’ll be able to run?” Ethari asked quietly. “I’ve always been hitched to equipment or sequestered in stalls. I’ve never been able to go on a full run before. I’ve always wanted to.”
“I don’t know,” Cetzu said with sympathy. “But you should at least be able to walk with no issues in time. You’ll need a lot of therapy in order to do so, however. A practice buddy will help you. Yew would be perfect for that, he helps a lot of the larger folks get back on their feet when we have to nurse them back to health. He’s pretty well known around here for it.”
“It would be Yew, wouldn’t it?” Ethari said snidely, though he wasn’t unhappy with the thought, much to his own surprise.
“Could be worse,” Cetzu said. “Besides, it’s gonna be a slow process. You have to get used to using it gradually. He’s the best for that kind of thing. He’s quite patient.”
Which meant he’d be spending a lot of time with Yew, Ethari realized, and he felt… relieved and apprehensive at the same time. He was starting to get used to Yew’s upbeat attitude and bright disposition, but he wasn’t sure if Yew would be able to stand him for that long. Sure, he said he thought Ethari’s grumpiness was cute, but even he knew it could wear thin after a while. Hell, he got sick of himself pretty often.
“Can you stand on your own?” Cetzu asked.
Ethari shook his head.
“One moment,” Cetzu said, standing and exiting the stall.. “Yew!”
Yew trotted up and peeked in. It seemed like he was always closeby “Yes?”
“I need to get this fellow up to make sure the new leg is the right length. Can you help him?”
“Oh, certainly. Up you get, Ethari.”
Ethari made a grunting effort and, with the help of Yew and Cetzu, managed to stand up, feeling terribly off balance. Cetzu quickly strapped the new leg to the stump and encouraged Ethari to put his weight on it gingerly, just to see if it was the adequate length. Satisfied, Cetzu encouraged Ethari to walk around his room briefly, just to see if it functioned well. It was painful and uncomfortable, as Ethari predicted, but not in a way that couldn’t be adapted to.
There was a slight drag that Cetzu said he could correct, no problem. Satisfied, Cetzu took the leg for some fine tuning and finishing adjustments, and left Ethari to rest. Yew was about to close the door to the stall when he was called by a feminine voice from the door.
“Hey Sunflower, one of the irrigation pipes is clogged. Declan wants you to clean it out before nightfall.”
An owl harpy stalked into view, looking into the stall with curiosity. She had lethal talons and lots of feathers in a multitude of earth tones. She wore no clothing to cover herself.
“Don’t leer, Sayo,” Yew said.
“I’m just curious,” She said. “I heard he was almost worse than me when I got here. Is that true, Sunflower?”
“At least he didn’t scratch the bajeezus out of me, like you did. Be nice, Sayo,” Yew said, waving at Ethari as he left.
“I wouldn’t expect a harpy to be in a place like this.” Ethari said, sizing her up.
“Most people wouldn’t,” She said, coming close and ruffling her feathers.
“Why are you here, then?”
“Because I am,” Sayo replied gruffly. “What’s it to you?”
Ethari snorted and didn’t answer. Boy, if he didn’t see a little of himself in this prissy thing. “Did you come here to gawk at me? If so, you can shove off, I’m not in the mood to do tricks for you.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” She asked him suddenly, her mischievous eyes sobering. “This place. You’re having trouble adjusting to it, aren’t you? I know. I still have trouble adjusting, even after fifteen years.”
Ethari’s head rocked back at the sudden admission. “How did you know that?”
“I heard Yew talking about it. He’s all morose because he can’t cheer you up.”
Ethari wondered at Yew talking to other people about him, but said nothing about it. “Why is it hard for you to adjust? Were you on a ranch, like Yew?”
Sayo shook her head in disgust as she sat on the threshold of the stall door. “I’d sooner end my own life than be a slave like that. I came from a coven of harpies who reside in the mountains to the west.”
“So how did you end up here?”
Sayo shrugged her shoulders, not in an “ I don’t know ” way, but in an “ it is what it is ” way. “My mother was the coven leader and didn’t like competition. I was attacked by the coven when I started to get too old to be submissive. I guess I mouthed off one too many times, because she ordered me to be killed and the entire coven descended upon me in a ritual execution, including my own siblings. My aunt felt pity for me and snuck me out while I was pretending to be dead, before they consumed me. I’m not sure how, but I ended up here.”
Ethari was quiet. He hadn’t even met everyone on the farm yet, but their stories were all so diverse. There was only one thing that tied them all together.
“Life in the coven was a struggle,” She continued when Ethari didn’t respond. “We fought over everything and everything was a competition. We competed for food, our place in the hierarchy, mating rights, anything you can think of. We didn’t help each other, because helping was the fastest way to get stabbed in the back. No one did anything ‘nice’ for others without harboring bad intentions. It took me so long to adapt to the farm here because none of it felt real. It seemed like a trick my mother had concocted to trap me. Even now, I sometimes have the feeling that I’ll blink and be back in the ritual, being shredded to death to appease my mother’s bloodlust.”
Ethari’s brow furrowed. “How did you deal with it? I can’t get comfortable, everything feels so foreign. I… I can’t trust anyone, even if I want to. And… I really want to.”
“Yew really got to you, huh?” Sayo said, her owlish face grinning. “They do that here. It’s hard to get out of this place without changing fundamentally in some way.”
“I can see that.”
Sayo shrugged again, her feathers whispering against each other like sand in the wind. “My advice? It’s gonna take time, just like with that leg of yours. It’s going to feel strange for a long time. There’s no way around that. The only thing you can do is trust.”
“Trust who?”
“Whoever. Yew, Me, Birch, Cetzu. Yourself. It doesn’t matter. Find something to trust in and it’ll come easier to you.”
“What if I can’t?” Ethari asked plaintively.
“Then you’ll be stuck, like I was for a long time. Moving forward is impossible if you’re stuck in the past. Trust is the only way.”
“Did you find someone to trust?”
“Yeah,” Sayo said. “My little brother, Asahi. He just… attached himself to me when I arrived, like a barnacle. I hated him and was uncomfortable with him, since he was male, but he grew on me slowly. He showed me all the treasures that he had hidden, little shells and colored rocks and shiny bits. Garbage to most people, but things he cherished. He doesn’t have a mean or spiteful bone in his body. He taught me that I didn’t have to compete for affection, because he had plenty to spare for everyone. It’s strange to me that he’s a teenager now. I almost expected him to stay a baby forever.” Sayo smiled. “He’s my best friend. You should get one too.”
Ethari breathed a sigh out of his nose. “Why do you call Yew Sunflower?” He asked, suddenly curious.
Sayo laughed. “I was extremely uncomfortable around men when I arrived, so I started calling the men by the names of things I liked, like flowers, to make myself feel less anxious. If I thought of them as flowers, I wasn’t as scared. You’re Dogwood, by the way.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Yew returned, and Sayo stood up, making to leave.
“Does it really help?” Ethari asked Sayo as she stepped away. “Giving your trust to someone?”
Sayo nodded and smirked. “It makes all the difference.”
Four days later, Ethari was cleared to start rehabilitating using the prosthesis, and Yew helped Cetzu put the new leg on.
“Thirty minutes,” Cetzu said. “You gotta work up to long term use slowly, or you’ll ruin yourself.”
“I get it, I get it,” Ethari said, settling into the leg uncomfortably and grunting. “You’ve said that five times now.”
“Just being cautious,” Cetzu said. “If you end up damaging the stump even more than it is now by doing too much too fast, you’ll end up completely immobile, so it doesn’t hurt to repeat myself, just so you really listen.
“If you can make it around the field without my help, I’ll give you a surprise,” Yew promised. “I think you’ll like it.”
Ethari snorted. “If you say so.”
Ethari went out of the barn on his own for the first time, slowly and gingerly limping on his new leg. He was grateful he had four legs rather than two, or he’d be flat on his face by now. It was painful, and he wanted to lie back down almost immediately, but he couldn’t let himself do that. He was free for the first time in his life. He wasn’t going to let having a missing leg stop him now.
However, once around the field was grueling. He had to walk a little, take a break, and repeat. Yew trailed behind Ethari by a short distance, ready to help if he needed it.
“You’re doing great, Ethari,” Yew said. “You can make it.”
Ethari didn’t have the energy to tell him to be quiet, so he didn’t say anything, only focused on getting back into the barn. Once he made it in, he struggled to stand so that Cetzu and Yew could remove the leg, and then collapsed, exhausted.
“You did it,” Yew said after Cetzu left. “I knew you could! I’m so proud of you.”
“Shut up and let me catch my breath,” Ethari gasped, leaning his body against the wood of the stall. Yew fell silent, and Ethari spent the next few minutes gulping down air. When he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and saw Yew kneeling right in front of him, a cute smile on his face.
“Well?” Ethari asked weakly. “Did I earn my surprise or not?”
Yew’s grin widened. “I’d say so,” He said, and took Ethari’s face in his hands. Before Ethari could ask what he was doing, Yew kissed him.
It was a short peck on the lips, and Ethari surprised himself by pulling Yew in and deepening the kiss. It started simple, but it ended up a mess of teeth and tongues and Yew’s moans against Ethari’s lips. Ethari could feel himself become aroused, and stopped, breathing hard.
“I told you you’d like it,” Yew said, also breathless and grinning.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ethari said, though he didn’t release Yew. Instead, he pulled him into an embrace and kissed his neck and shoulder.
“You’re more receptive than I thought you’d be,” Yew said, returning the embrace and stroking down Ethari’s upper back. “I’m happy, of course, but I just… thought I annoyed you.”
“You do annoy me,” Ethari said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”
“Who’s the weirdo now?” Yew said, kissing Ethari’s ear.
“You like me like this,” Ethari said, laughing for the first time. “You said so.”
“I did say so,” Yew said.
Months of therapy and a full season later, Ethari could get around just fine on his own. He still couldn’t run, and there was some doubt that he ever would, but at the very least he could walk unassisted. He offered to do some work around the farm, but despite the start of the planting season coming quite soon, they insisted he wait a while longer before taking on his share.
Yew spent all of his free time with Ethari, helping him with the physical therapy and just enjoying his company, and Ethari felt himself coming out of his shell under the warmth of Yew’s encouragement and guidance. He went out to meet the other members of the family and introduce himself to them, including young Asahi, about whom Sayo had bragged. He started attending the family meals with them and eventually began engaging in conversations, stilted at first, but becoming more natural over time. He apologized to Birch for causing a ruckus and even greeted shy, non-verbal Hazel, who they’d realized was pregnant shortly after he arrived, although he was in no fit state to care at the time. It’s part of why Birch had been so touchy. Birch, who was in much better spirits now that Hazel was past the worst of her pregnancy sickness, accepted his apology and even offered to share a pint with Ethari sometime.
One day, after Ethari had been deemed mostly healed and with no restrictions on his movement, Yew and Ethari took a walk out hand-in-hand into the woods, out of sight from the farmhouse and barn. It was the farthest he’d been from it since his arrival and that might have made him feel apprehensive, but today felt special for some reason. It felt like he was anticipating something, like something was in the air that he could taste, but he wasn’t sure what it was, a flavor he’d never experienced before.
“Are you going to stay here?” Yew asked him after a while. “I know we never talked about it, but you’ve spent all your time at that ranch, so I figured you might want to go out and see the world. I would understand that.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Ethari asked him.
“Well, no,” Yew said. He seemed uncharacteristically downtrodden. “But… I don’t want to keep you here if you want to see more of the world. It would be selfish of me to expect you to stay just because I want you to.”
Ethari stopped him, making him spin to face him.
“Sayo told me something a few months ago,” Ethari said. “Back when I was struggling to accept the kindness that was being shown me. She said I needed to trust. She said it didn’t matter who or what it was, but I needed to put my trust in something in order to move forward. And she was right. Once I decided to trust, being here came more easily. It’s still hard for me to adapt to a place where nothing is expected of me, but I wanted to move forward and stop living in my trauma so badly that I was willing to take advice from anyone willing to give it, even a stranger. It just so happened that the advice I got was exactly what I needed.”
“I wondered what the two of you talked about. What did you decide to put your trust in?” Yew asked, wide-eyed.
“You, silly,” Ethari said with a laugh. “You make it hard not to trust you. That puppy face of yours is just too innocent not to trust. Once I let myself trust you, things seemed to fall into place, as if I was just waiting for it to do so. I won’t lie, I still find myself doubting now and then, and I still have nightmares. I don’t know if either of those will ever go away, but you make it better. It’s hard to doubt when you’re near me. So… I want you near me all the time. I only feel comfortable when you’re there. So… don’t go far… alright?”
Yew nodded, and Ethari pulled him in sharply, kissing him hard. They had been careful about being affectionate around the family, since they didn’t want questions they may not have been ready to answer. But Ethari was ready now.
“Do you want me to show you what I want to do?” Ethari said, taking Yew’s face in his hands. “Do you want me to show you how I really feel?”
Yew gulped, but stared Ethari in the eye. “Yes.”
Ethari kissed him again, perhaps a little roughly, but Yew seemed to respond positively. “Then turn around.”
Yew was shaking a little as Ethari released him, but he obeyed, bracing his upper body against a tree as Ethari reared up on his back legs and mounted him, his cock slipping out of its sheath and bobbing as it searched out an entrance.
“Do you want this?” Ethari asked, wrapping his arms around Yew’s shoulders from behind.
Yew looked up at Ethari and grasped Ethari’s arms. “Oh, gods, yes. Please, Ethari, please.”
Ethari pressed his cock to Yew’s pucker, slowly inching inside him. Yew’s eyes half closed and he moaned.
“Does it hurt?” Ethari asked. “Sorry, I’m not really sure what I’m doing yet.”
Yew shook his head. “No, it feels good. You feel so good.”
Ethari bent so that he could kiss Yew upside down as he thrust inside of him and Yew moaned against his lips. This close, his white lashed fluttered like feathers in the breeze, and Ethari was struck by his beauty.
“You’re beautiful, Yew,” Ethari whispered, and Yew smiled.
“How can I be beautiful when you exist, Ethari?” Yew said. “You’re so handsome. I thought so when I first saw you. I’d have flirted with you sooner if I thought you’d be receptive.”
Ethari grinned. “You’re just buttering me up, aren’t you?”
Yew smiled around his gasping. “Only always. That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
Ethari suddenly thrust harder, and Yew cried out. Ethari covered his mouth with his hand.
“You have to be quiet, or we’ll get unwanted company,” Ethari whispered into Yew’s ear. “Are you going to be good?”
Yew’s eyes were glassy in pleasure, and he nodded. Ethari removed his hand and Yew moaned again, only less loudly.
“I love how this feels,” Yew breathed. “You’re so good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time?”
Ethari bucked again, and Yew struggled to keep his voice down.
“Maybe I’m just naturally gifted,” Ethari suggested.
“I believe it,” Yew replied, his eyes closing as Ethari thrust faster. “There’s nothing you can’t do. You’re amazing.”
“You’re going to make me cum if you keep talking like that,” Ethari said, as he was, indeed, close to bursting.
“You can,” Yew said, his grip tightening. “I think… I’m almost there, too.”
“How would you know?” Ethari asked him. “Isn’t this your first time?”
“Yeah,” Yew said, his face scrunching up. “But I feel… something… happening…”
Yew groaned loudly, and Ethari heard a thick splashing against the ground at their feet. Thrusting faster, Ethari began to grunt in Yew’s ear.
“Don’t stop yet, it’s happening again,” Yew begged. Ethari pounded into him, and Yew did cry out, his body stiffening underneath Ethari, and another splashing was heard.
“My goodness,” Ethari said, riding the edge of his own pleasure and letting it rise and ebb, delighting in the sounds Yew made when he came. “Aren’t you eager, love?”
“I’ve wanted you so badly, the last few months,” Yew said, sweat collecting on his brow despite the cool spring air. “I’m so happy you want me, too.”
“I do,” Ethari told him. “I’m not going anywhere, Yew. I’m here forever. If I go anywhere, you’re coming with me. I need you.”
Yew shuddered against Ethari, and came again. “You’re so good to me. I’m so happy you chose me. Thank you.”
“No,” Ethari said, his voice soft. “I should be thanking you. You gave me new life.”
“I just saw you on the road and helped you,” Yew said, his body shivering with the waves of pleasure.
“You did more than that,” Ethari pressed his forehead against the top of Yew’s head. “Oh, gods,” He exhaled. “I’m close.”
“Please, do it,” Yew said. “You can do it. I want it.”
Ethari came hard inside of Yew, his seed spilling out and down Yew’s back legs. Ethari nearly fell over in his attempt to disengage from Yew. Yew helped him stand straight, laughing.
“I think I need a wash,” Yew said. “Do you want to help me clean up at the river?”
“I can’t get in the water because of the leg,” Ethari said, trying to catch his breath. “But I can pull up a bucket of water and rinse you down. But before that…” Ethari pulled Yew into an embrace. “I meant it, you know. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. I didn’t know I could be so happy. Thank you for saving me. And thank you for letting me put my trust in you. Sayo was right.”
“About what?” Yew asked, hugging Ethari tight.
“Trusting you made all the difference.”
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some of these days - chapter 3
Summary: After the Second Coming’s come and gone, Crowley moves to the South Downs. Aziraphale stays in London. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t come to visit.
Or, Aziraphale’s his own angel, now. He just has to learn what that means.
Crowley’s furious with him, simply vibrating with it the entire ride back to the shop, his rage filling the car like a low fog, making it hard to breathe. It’s three AM, and Aziraphale’s coat is wrinkled, and he’s forgotten his book back at the cottage. Crowley’s so angry he hasn’t even put his glasses back on, and his eyes glow yellow in the dark car like another dashboard light as he stares straight ahead. He’d torn out of the drive like - well, a bat out of hell, really - spitting gravel everywhere.88 There’d been no one on the roads at that time of night, and Crowley had hit speeds in excess of 120 mph, and Aziraphale had asked him to slow down, for Heaven’s sake, and then Crowley had called him an old maid, and he’d called Crowley reckless and said he’d get them killed, and Crowley, veering right to pass a truck, sneered, “Already done that, haven’t I?” and Aziraphale snaps, “Again, then.”89 The landscape flashes past them, ghostly in the headlights, the horizon brightening as they approach London at terrific speed. Oh, Aziraphale knew he shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have given into his great weakness, but he didn’t expect this. “Crowley,” he says, “I’m really very sorry. I only thought-”
“What givesss you the right,” Crowley snarls, and Aziraphale realizes that Crowley’s scared. Crowley’d been woken up from a dead sleep with something in his bed that hadn’t been there when he’d gotten in, and then he’d clocked that thing as an angel, and then he’d realized that angel was Aziraphale, and whatever Crowley’s thoughts on that might be, Aziraphale’s not sure, but based on the way he’s gripping the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, it’s not exactly positive. “After everything,” Crowley continues, “I tell you - I tell you, and then you forgive me for it, and then you fuck off back to Heaven, and then you end the fucking world, Aziraphale, and you think you can just pretend none of that happened?”
Aziraphale gulps and gulps again and looks down at his sleeves, which seem to have been caught in a sudden rainstorm. “Crowley,” he tries again as they pull up to the shop, “I’m so very sorry, please-”
��It’s alright,” Crowley says as Aziraphale fumbles to let himself out out of the Bentley, and those words shouldn’t make Aziraphale hope, that’s not Crowley’s understanding tone. “I’m sure I’ll forgive you sometime. How’s next week sound?” he yells after Aziraphale, and pulls away from the curb, a great, dramatic screech of tires that wakes up half the neighborhood.90 Aziraphale stumbles towards the bookshop door, heart pounding in his ears, hand pressed to his mouth to keep the noise in. The door swings open easily for him as he approaches. This is it. He’s home.
≠≠
Of course, it hadn’t gone like his dream, not at all, not really. Aziraphale had read that dreams were frequently amalgamations of things that both had and had not actually happened, twisted up in confusing ways.
In reality, it had been a little more straightforward.
Aziraphale had been given the trumpet to start the end of days, and had been told to blow it. It was his job, his sole purpose as an angel, it was explained to him, and when he’d refused, it had been suggested that if he was unworthy of doing the sole thing he’d been created by Her to do, then perhaps they should alleviate him of that bother, and Aziraphale was about to say Jolly right I resign, and you can stick your trumpet - but then the host had moved in, and he’d realized, swallowing, that they’d meant something a bit more permanent than just resigning. And then Crowley had barged up at the worst possible time, where angels feared to tread and all that, and then Crowley had been hit by all that holy power, a sheer blast to his pure essence, and the worst part was Aziraphale had been able to feel where Crowley was, and then where he wasn’t, something snuffed out in Aziraphale’s own chest, a star extinguished, and Aziraphale felt it, and oh God, it was terrible, and he’d cried out in anguish, Crowley, oh, God, Crowley, please, no, but it was already too late, and when he realized that, he’d raised the trumpet to his lips even as the eyes of the angels gleamed like weapons and he’d blown as hard as he could, took the sum of every single breath this body had ever breathed and poured it into the trumpet, to start the end, where the dead rose and walked the earth once more, and he blew and he blew and he blew, to bring it all down, the sound coming out holy and terrible, rolling out over the world; throughout the earth and across the universe every creature raised their heads and listened, the trumpet said come and see, it said the end has come, it had said, damn you all, because he’s dead.
And Aziraphale had stood there, teeth bared, panting, as at his feet Crowley had stirred and gasped and risen, and said, in a voice like the grave, “Aziraphale, what have you done?”
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Im so mentally ill for them
I need this show back
#infinity train#infinity train book 2#jesslake#lake infinity train#jesse cosay#infinitytrain#jessecosay#infinity train lake#my art#elibethqueen#*giggles in jesslake*#college has a grip on me rn but Jesslake’s grip is stronger#they have me in a chokehold#there’s not a day that passes where I’m not thinking about them#*cries in spanish*#doodle dump
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OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.
#okay starting from the beginning of where ppl usually dislike him. apple woods chapter.#he doesn’t give hero/partner the CHANCE to explain themselves despite them being relatively good recruits up until that point.#and that legit might be my only gripe with that chapter bc!!! stories need conflict! I LIKE the conflict in apple woods!!!#hero and partner being punished so something they didn’t do!#the misunderstanding! how team skull (Skuntank) actually outplays the main duo with a clever yet rotten trick. I LOVE that it segways into-#one of the more sweeter scenes of guild members looking out for eachother. I LIKE APPLE WOODS CONFLICT.#but chatot just. not giving them a chance. is so dumb.#I’d personally fix this by having a lil montage of hero/partner fucking up on jobs. A LOT. and chatot giving them a pass every time.#and let the perfect apple incident BE the one where he puts his foot down and doesn’t listen to them. bc he’d given them loads of chances.#and doesn’t want to hear any excuse.#but yeah. I legit dont mind him during that chapter except for that really stupid and frustrating moment.#NOW. CHAPTER 17.#UGGGGHHH WHERE DO I BEGIN#Him not believing hero and Partner about Grovyle and the future being in ruin? FINE. ACTUALLY GOOD. BC CHATOT WOULD BE SKEPTIC.#IT FITS HIS CHARACTER!!#BUT WHAT DOES SUCK. IS HIM GOING ‘Dusknoir isn’t the bad guy. he didn’t do anything wrong’#WHEN HE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED HERO AND PARTNER RIGHT I N F R O N T OF HIM.#(NO LITERALLY. HIS CHARACTER IS IN THE FRONT ROW WHEN IT HAPPENED.)#and him. having the GALL to tell hero and partner they must’ve been ‘seeing things’ and downplaying the HELL they went through.#despite them being missing for hours/days. his own guild recruits. and his angry sprite showing up.#like. I think that’s when I genuinely despised him.#that and him going ‘OH I BELIEVED YOU THE WHOLE TIME HEEHOO :)’ shit was so fucking annoying.#just playing it off as a joke the second the guild started to believe hero and partner.#IMAGINE IF HE W A S ACTUALLY TESTING THE GUILD’S TRUST. SHOWCASING HIM AS THE MORE RESPONSIBLE AND RESPECTFUL RIGHT HAND OF THE GUILD.#and yes. Brine cave he saves hero and partner. but at that point I just didn’t care anymore.#he fucked those two over so much. that I didn’t care what ‘valiant’ sacrifice he had.#and he grills Team Skull for what they did OFF SCREEN. they couldn’t even give us THAT.#<<< THAT or him outright saying sorry would’ve been nice. IKIK his ‘actions’ or whatever but.#eughh again this is all imo. I’m not trying to make people hate him or change their mind.#I’ll get into positives in the second post cause I’m running out of tags
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#since I talked in the tags a lil before#i also need to say that the political situation in Georgia has been a big pile of shit lately#that’s mostly why I don’t have the energy to engage with anything atm#everything is so hopeless#I just try to play video games these days to take my mind off stuff#but to explain it a bit#there is this one law the parliament already tried to pass last year but then didn’t because thousands came out to rally against it#the law is about ‘foreign agents’ and it’s directly copied from kremlin’s law in Russia#where the govt basically uses it to just cleanse the country from anyone they don’t like#So now this law is back and they have voted a yes two times#and will vote a yes third time#which is absolutely devastated news for anyone here#because if this law is instituted#basically say bye to foreign scholarships#to ngos financed from foreign countries that work to protect queer and trans peeps#rehabilitate refugees domestic violence victims etc#there will be no new roads in removed highland villages that rely mostly on international financial aid#no education opportunities for poor kids etc#this law literally equals death#and it will be heavily used to just cleanse Georgia of people who don’t think like Kremlin#and I am so fucking scared rn#There have been protests for 3 days#tens of thousands of people on the streets#but parliaments just keeps ignoring people#Or using police brutality against them#they are beating people up#jailing them for peaceful protests etc#it’s absolute nightmare#I’m just so tired of Russia#why won’t they die with everyone who supports them I wanna cry
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currently reporting deliriously with pain meds and coffee (and procrastination)
but i had this image in my mind that si just annoying the fuck out of all slytherin cos he just keeps fucking with them and they * can't — not really* do anything to him, cause disgraced or not he's still the black heir and they have 4-5 blacks petty enough in their house that will fuck them up in ways that can't even tell how it happened.
sirus and mucilber ( or whatever that dude's name was just remember that's he's always the stupid one for any reason tho) get into a fight and mucilber does some stupid stuff and run his mouth
mucus foolishly - curses sirius with something dark and lethal
Sirius (obviously) - gets out of it and fucks up mucus with 15 creative curses.
james *sirius black 24/7 defence attorney* potter and bella *only i can try to murder sirius* black are now suddenly in cohoots like two kindergarten kids forced to be friends
cos muciber/mucus was stupid enough to whine in common room and James just has this 6th sense whenever sirus gets into a fight.
reg and cissa are researching poison for no reason at all
and Andy is just quietly looking at muggle ways to kill someone without trace cause she's progressive (and because it doesn't show on wand).
and just black family kiddies and James potter becoming unlikely friends cause of (1) sirius Orion black and that's just djfjbf
like this is obviously so crackish but imo, thai shows such a clear picture of world peace that it's just too funny to not use.
like use their power to full and all that yknow—
also snape in end just gives muciber a ticket to spain and be like - here's how you survive black family (not guaranteed)
i’m not saying i like that you’ve had to use pain meds and rely on coffee to get thru things but—
can i request these vibes in the inbox again? like, multiple times? because i am so into this.
for one, mucus is an absolutely fkn hysterical name. i just. Cannot take him seriously
and second. james & the blacks forming an unintentional alliance bc they’ve all started their own sirius black defence squad is so???? why can i literally picture it in my head 😭😭
(like i once talked about how james’ ability to inspire loyalty & devotion is so impressive he could probably be an accidental dark lord but this is just—another way to get to the same place and i love it)
#sirius black#james potter#the black family#i’m thinking like—shady back room meetings where james dresses like a terrible muggle spy#bc he thinks he’s cool when he’s rly just a dork#and passing information about various threats si is/might be facing#the blacks will take care of the darker ones and j is in charge of the closer to home/internal ones#can’t decide how sirius would react if/when he finds out tho#like all his life he thinks his best friend & family hate each other (for obvious reasons£#and then one day he walks into the house and sees all of them chatting together???#bella knows how james likes his chai???? j is passing biscuits to reg???? andy and cissa r giggling together? wtf#he kinda just about turns and walks right back out bc he just. Cannkt#Cannot*#pen’s asks#pen’s notes
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