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chelseeebe · 16 days

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bump n’ grind

a lil continuation to gimme a hand wherein our lovely reader helps eddie out after an embarrassing mistake.

18+ mdni. again, mostly just smut. maybe some angst towards the end i guessss. eddie munson x female reader.

eddie’s on cloud nine.

his head floating well above the pretty pink room he was currently in.

not entirely sure how he ended up here but also not at all angry about it. a night of rum and beer had lead him to this.

sarah.. savanna.. something, sits atop of his lap, bouncing off of his thighs like a jacked up rabbit.

he’s clawing at her back, trying and failing, to keep a steady grip on her wild body. appreciating the soft squeaks that left her mouth with every bounce.

and before he can really think about it enough to stop his mouth, he says it. wanting to dig his own grave the second his lips spread.

a long, drawn out iteration of your name.

she stops, immediately. breathless as she grips his shoulders, “what’d you say?”

his cock aches and his cheeks burn, any hope that she’d just ignore it and continue had flown out of the window, “what?” acting clueless, “i didn’t.. didn’t say anything.”

eddie knows full well what had slipped out of his loose lips, muscle memory from the embarrassing amount of times he had whined your name while imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

“you said somebody else’s name,” she frowns, sounding far too close to a possessive girlfriend rather than the one night stand that she actually was.

“did i? i don’t really remember.. does it matter?” with full sincerity, wondering if she was going to stay on his dick or climb off and throw him out.

“if i’m having sex with someone, i at least expect them to know my name,” she scowls, clambering from his lap to the empty space next to him.

“shit,” he mumbles, head in his hands, “fuck. i’m sorry,” sobering up instantly, embarrassed by his blunder.

she sighs, taking pity on his pathetic self, “is she your ex or something?” re-dressing herself with an old t-shirt, rightfully putting an end to their encounter.

“no..” eddie frowns, shaking his head, “she’s my.. my friend.”

best friend actually. making it all the more confusing and complicated. he’d spare her of all the gory details, for her sake.

“oh,” the girl gawps, stifling her laugh. “you should tell her,” leaning over to grab her phone, no doubt to tell all of her friends about eddie’s embarrassing freudian slip.

he’d deserve it.

eddie perches on the end of your bed, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing it and touching you like he dreamed of doing.

it had been four months, two weeks and five days since you’d jerked him off in that tiny bathroom.

not that he was counting.

and still nothing more had happened between you. a few instances where eddie had thought you were close but nothing of any real consequence.

nevertheless, a day hadn’t passed since where he hadn’t thought about it at least once.

he’s memorised every single frame of that video, all the times you pant and twist your hand. the exact second his phone falls onto the counter and the video changes to an image of the back of his head.

every. last. detail.

you jab your foot into his back, peering over your phone screen to frown at him, “what’s wrong with you?”

eddie sighs, letting his shoulders slump, still staring at the torn ac/dc poster he had ripped off the wall for you. it reminds him too much of times where things weren’t so complicated.

“i hooked up with someone the other day,” he states monotonously, uncaring anymore about telling you what had really happened.

“okay?” you jab him again, “why are you sad about that?” confusion echoing.

“i’m not sad.”

you sit up, the mattress shifting behind him, “then what the fuck’s your problem?” leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder, in that similar position you were in all those months ago.

sometimes he wishes you’d never touched him. that he had just settled with chrissy and you had never been an option. not that you really were now, still unobtainable, taunting and teasing him.

“i said your name,” he exhales in one big breath, “i said your name while i was having sex with her.”

his shoulders felt lighter now, despite you still resting on them. something about the relief of finally letting you know how he felt. embracing his stupidity.

“really?” your mouth falls open, “holy shit, that’s funny,” he can feel your hands creep up his back, sending shivers over his skin.

eddie shakes his head, at a loss for words. he could see how you’d find it funny, but he couldn’t see the humour in it himself. in fact, it was a marker for the absolute desperation he felt towards your new complex relationship. not only had you taken over all of his waking thoughts, but you’d somehow subliminally crept into his intoxicated mind thoo.

“what were you thinking about? when you said it,” you pry, head twisting around to look at him.

“you.”

“me?” you rasp, right into his ear. “what about me?” feeling your breath against his cheek, transporting him straight back to wayne’s cramped bathroom.

his eyes fall shut, like he’s in some humiliation ritual, getting off to the way you teased him so.

“that video.. that stupid video,” he whispers, tuned in to every twitch of your fingers on his back, your soft breaths in his ear.

“oh,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, unwilling to open his eyes to see it again, “is that it? just the video?”

he doesn’t understand why you’re asking so many questions. obviously enjoying the way he squirmed under your touch, antsy and reluctant to say anything.

“i was.. picturing you were her,” he squeezes out, blood rushing to not only his cheeks, but his cock too.

“aw,” you coo, hand sliding higher, “tell me how it felt,” voice thick with desire, fingers circling around his shaking shoulders.

“good..” his eyes squeeze together, feeling his jeans shift uncomfortably, “not as good as you did,” almost begging, pleading for it.

you hum, your other hand finding the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the tent in his jeans.

if you kept this up, he’d cum all over his fucking pants.

you squeeze the skin, a low grumble from yours lips, “what position were you in?”

oh god.

“w-why?” eddie chokes, seeing stars behind his eyelids.

“i just wanna know, eds.. so i can picture the scene.”

his head tilts back, allowing you the opportunity to creep into the crook of his neck, traces of your lips just barely touching the sensitive skin.

“please tell me,” you mumble, vibrating against his trachea, making his toes curl, grounding himself with the rough carpet.

“she was on top,” he spits, balling his fist around your blanket.

it didn’t feel real between his fingers, poorly substituting your body for the cotton.

“oh,” you shift, the bed frame creaking as you clamber into his lap, resting atop of his thighs. “like this?”

he doesn’t open his eyes. can’t, not without cumming his pants right there. but he can feel you, perched just below his crotch,

“what’d she do now? hmm?” dragging your nails down his chest, your fingers prod at his skin, forcing him to flop back against the mattress.

the space allows you to shuffle upwards, your cunt brushing against his aching cock, leaving him no choice but to turn into pure mush beneath you.

“fuck,” he breathes, daring a glance in hopes to keep the image ingrained in his mind forever.

your hips begin to grind against his crotch, groaning softly with your palms flat to his chest.

“you like that?” you purr, rocking back and forth on top for he rough denim of his jeans.

“i need you.. fuck, please,” he keens, fingertips so firmly pressed into your waist that they’d leave indentations for days.

you don’t respond, sighing softly as the friction between you grows stronger, cruel and twisted in the way you tease him.

he doesn’t understand what all of these almost-encounters mean. it’s like you want him but not fully. holding yourself back for the right moment or perhaps just trying to keep him going until somebody else came along.

his hands slide around to your ass, moving with every jerk and cant of your hips. gruff, frustrated sighs leave his mouth, mixing somewhere in the air with your whiny moans. need and urgency ricocheting around the walls of your room, yet neither one of you prepared to take it all the way.

“jesus eds, are you gonna cum?” you breathe, as much as this was for his benefit, you were getting off as well.

that alone makes this other worldly. even if he was doing absolutely none of the work, you were writhing and gasping just as he was.

it’s almost incomprehensible how much you using him to get off was frying his brain.

eddie was about to combust, the closeness of it all, so near and yet still so far apart. two layers of clothes felt like a million miles. finally brave enough to open his eyes, hoping to keep this image seared into his brain forever.

“yeah.. yeah i’m gonna cum,” he whines, jerking his hips up to meet yours, rocking against each other in perfect rhythm, “please.. oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck,” his cock positioned perfectly between your folds, covering your pajama shorts with your slick.

“good boy,” you breathe, fingers twisted into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, not letting up on your torturous grinding.

your tone is somewhere between mocking and sincere, but he doesn’t care. doesn’t have the brain capacity to if he’s honest.

his cock twitches against his boxers, hips shuddering into the air as an uncomfortable warmth overtakes his crotch.

“oh god.. shit,” the sudden realisation of the mess in his pants, how grotesquely down bad he was for you, hits all at once.

your lips curve, shuffling down to the top of his thighs. you don’t exchange words, just a sly glance that erupts into giggles. leaning down to peck his lips as your hands let go of their hold on his chest.

eddie’s hands don’t move, gripping onto your hips, hoping you’ll stay there for the rest of eternity. not only had he cum in his pants, he had done so at a disturbingly fast rate. a few minutes of what was essentially dry humping had left him sticky and full of shame.

“are you ever gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, practically begging for your mercy, needing to know for his own sake.

he likes to think that if you said no, he’d be able to walk away with his dignity, to never let this embarrassing display for pathetic yearning happen again.

yet deep down, he also knows that that’ll never happen. you could string him along forever and ever and he’d never do a thing about it other than cherish the moments you let him touch you.

your laugh topples over, slinging your leg over his waist to kneel beside his lifeless body, “one day,” kneeing him softly in the side, “go get changed, i’m hungry,” climbing off of the mattress, disappearing from his eyesight.

his head flops back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, ignoring the feel of his boxers clinging to his skin and the inevitable wet patch seeping through to his jeans.

an insatiable churning in his stomach for more, for you.

but eddie is eddie, so instead of doing any of the things that he really wanted to do, he rolls off of your bed with a sigh, shimmying out of his jeans just as you’d asked him to.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie’s munson one shot

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azullumi · 2 months

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"once more to see you" ; aventurine

summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet

note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.

“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down.

you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind.

(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)

“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.

he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”

“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.

“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.

“i’m sure he will.”

silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so.

aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.

you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two.

“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.

the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.

“do what?”

“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.

“why do you think so?”

“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave.

“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”

he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”

“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”

he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.

“i love you.”

“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed?

you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”

you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”

“i don’t know.” he whispers.

“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.

the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.

for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.

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inanthesis · 1 year

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BEST WORST BOY BIRTHDAY!! 3 years later and I still love this unbearable magnate with my whole heart and soul.

#king of doing whatever the fuck he wants #emotional constipation is his middle name #would throw hands if you ever said anything mean about his wonderful loser ass boyfriend #bc that man is the light of his life #but also would throw hands if you called him short bc he's mad about that #still wishing my guy got a season 2 he deserved it #and seeing international crime stopping boyfriend shenanigans would've been fun #how a man who owned anitwit in spring 2020 became so quickly forgotten is wild

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 6 months

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ooooh a fic where reader and Tom reacts to the tiktok edits of them pls✨

Internet Boyfriend || Tom Blyth x Actress!reader

A/n: I LOVE THIS HAHAHHAHA also yes, I did add the links to the tiktok edits 😋

Warnings: none :)

Wc:

Divider by @pommecita

“First of all, congratulations on satisfying this fan of the original series,” The women points to herself, “Thats what we like to hear,” You smile, “Like this film is epic! But uh we need to all about something really really serious first,” You nod, anticipating the questioning.

“Y/n,” You eyebrows shoot up as you tilt your head, “Do you think Tom is ready,” You and Tom look at each other, “to become the internet’s boyfriend? Cause I don’t think he realises what’s about to happen,” Tom looks taken aback as he looks at you.

“I’ve been saying this for so long too!” You meet Tom’s gaze, “I did not expect that question,” He shakes his head lightly laughing. “Beyond the internet boyfriend, it’s just he gives such a beautiful performance in this film and after our first premiere in Berlin, I grabbed his face in the car on the way back to the hotel and I just bawled my eyes out to him, remember that?” You look to him, a smile on your face.

“Yep,” He chuckles, looking down, “Because as an actor and his girlfriend I was just so proud to witness the rise of Tom Blyth in movie making, it’s such a beautiful thing and there’s no one more deserving out there, truly.” You say in appreciation as you and Tom lock eyes.

He puts his hand on his heart, “Thank you,” He says, truly moved by what you said, “That’s so sweet of you,” You lean your head against his shoulder and his arm wraps around your shoulder. “You’re welcome,” You say to him, looking up as you place a light kiss on his jawline.

“Both your performance is honestly just spectacular, I love the two of you, I wish I was there in person to witness it,” She jokes as you all laugh along with her. “Another thing I wanted to ask, specifically aimed to you Tom,” He looks at the women expectantly.

“The girls on tiktok are loving it already, are you ready,” Tom scratches the back of his neck, “Oh God,” As you already start laughing knowing where she was going with this question, “Are you ready for the Snow thirst edits? How do you feel about them,” It’s silent for a few seconds as Tom looks at the floor, a smile on his face.

“It’s begun babe,” You squeeze his arm. “Uh- I’m not on tiktok and I try to stay off online, as much as possible, uhm which is difficult these days- but I don’t see them often until people send them to me- So stop sending them” Tom looks at the camera as you throw your head back, losing it already as you laugh.

“As someone who has tiktok and thoroughly enjoy the edits of the movie, I do send them to Tom-“ “You send them all the time! It’s embarrassinga” You both intertwine hands and laugh out loud. “I don’t really send you the thirst trap ones, mostly just the ones about how blue your eyes are and how great of an actor you are,”

“Well speaking of it, we actually have a few thirst traps of you Tom, lined up for you to react to,” Tom drops his head as you start giggling, “Oh my god,” “Here we go,” You say in as you watch a crew member past you an IPad.

“Oh dear god, this video is going to turn into a try not to cringe challenge video with y/n and Tom reacting to Coryo” You sigh as you watch the first tiktok which is of Tom as Snow. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNC4EmV8/

You immediately smile knowing you have already seen this tiktok. The interviewer starts laughing as you both watch Tom’s reaction to it. “I must say, It’s very good,” Tom admits, “This tiktok has 5.4 million views, and everyone is saying that this is the Coriolanus snow edit,” She says as you click on the comment section and read through the comments.

“I agree that is the Coriolanus snow edit aswell,” You chuckle. “Okay next one,” You say as Tom groans beside you, already very much embarrassed. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNCVJCRX/

Your jaw immediately starts to drop upon hearing the audio. Tom covers his eyes as you and the interviewer laugh. “I love the beginning!” You say in between laughs, “Wait what was the beginning?” Tom asks, “Did you not watch it?”

“I covered my eyes the second I heard my voice,” He admits with a silly grin on his face as you shake your head and rewatch it. “Oh, I see,” He rubs his chin as you watch the next one. “Oh I’ve seen this one!” Tom says as you both rewatch it. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNCVkrxh/

“I’ve always told Tom that everyone obsesses when he says Snow lands on top,” “Yes! The fans go crazy!” The woman laughs along as Tom looks uncomfortable. “Tom say it,” You nudge him as he gives you the ‘don’t make me do it’ look as you give him your puppy eyes, “fine,” He huffs.

He clears his throat as a joke before staring into the camera, “Snow lands on top,” He says in an insanely attractive voice as you fake faint. “Watch them edit this too,” You point out, “Please no,” He covers his face in embarrassment as you pat his back, silently laughing.

“This one, is one my favs actually,” The woman says as she shows you and Tom the tiktok. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNC4wS5J/ You both crack up at the ending as actual tears started forming in Tom’s eyes. “Oh my god he’s crying,” You slap his thigh as you lean over in your chair from laughter.

After a good 5 minutes the two of you calm down. “For the next one, Y/n you can just go ahead and search up Tom Blyth on TikTok and pick whatever tiktok you want him to react to,” Your eyes lit up at the offer and you hurriedly take the iPad from Tom’s lap and type his name. Tom leans over to look at the iPad as you hide it from him, a mischievous glint in your eyes that he knows all too well.

You take your time as your scroll before one catches your eye. You watch it and your jaw immediately drops open. “What is it?” Tom says impatiently as your eyes flicker from Tom to the woman. “I don’t know if I can even show this,” You cover your mouth.

“Babe, I don’t think you want to see this,” You continue while Tom becomes impatient and curious. “Just show me!” You give a look to the interviewer as you show him the tiktok. Almost immediately, Tom turns it off and gets up from the screen as you stifle a laugh, watching him as he walks behind the camera, his hands on his hips.

“What did I just watch,” He says as you full on start to laugh to the point where you were on the ground laughing and had a stitch. “I should have stayed curious” Tom runs a hand down his face as he sighs and sits back down on the chair, laughing at you on the floor dying from laughter.

“I’m so glad you find this amusing, sweetheart,” He playfully rolls his eyes as he offers his hand and helps you up. “My eye makeup is most definitely ruined,” You say in between laughs as Tom grabs your face and wipes away the smudged mascara.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry I didn’t even show you the tiktok!” You realise as the woman doing the interview snickers. “We probably looked mentally insane,” You fan your face. The TikTok was of Coryo kissing your character in tbosas and the next clip was of Billy kissing Dulcinea which also happened to be played by you and the writing on the TikTok said “This man kisses like he is starved, like she is the oxygen he needs to breathe,”

Tom was beyond embarrassed as he recalled both moments when he was kissing you on screen. “This may be abit of TMI but ladies, he’s always been like that,” You cover the left side of your mouth as you whisper it to the camera before winking.

#fanfiction #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth x actress!reader

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httpiastri · 4 months

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18+ content, minors dni

‎‎ ‎ ‎

it's as if out of habit that one of your hands reaches down between your legs, pointer finger meeting your clit drawing out a low sigh from you. lando's too slow, you think – he's been working on undoing his belt and jeans for far too long now, so it's his own fault anyway. plus, he's been edging you on for what feels like years, fingering you and lapping you up but pulling away just before can come undone. you deserve some kind of release.

you knew you shouldn't have teased him tonight. you know how insecure he is when it comes to you flirting with his friends, especially oscar, and you know how jealous it makes him. and still, you just couldn't help it. the look on lando's face when oscar's hand grazed your thigh was almost too good to be true. but when you do something like this, you also have to take your punishment like a big girl.

do you understand it? yes. will you do it willingly without any complaints? most certainly not.

your boyfriend's eyes land on you when he has discarded his pants, and his hand immediately swoops down to grab your wrist, pulling it away from you. a dismissive 'nuh-uh' sound vibrates from the back of his throat, and he cocks an eyebrow at you. "patience, love."

you whine, the desperate look on your face making lando grin. "you're so mean to me," you mutter, shutting your eyes as if not seeing him will make time pass quicker and help you feel less needy.

but his trademark laughter meets your ears, and it doesn't make things any easier for you. it's a reminder of him, of everything you love about him, and of how much you want him – how much you need him. "oh, you think this is being mean?" he scoffs, a hand reaching for your bare side. "sweetheart, you haven't seen anything yet."

your breath hitches in your throat when his bulge presses against you, boxers already wet with his precum leaking onto them. he grinds up and down your cunt, your slick staining the fabric even further. it's too much already; you're far too sensitive to deal with this. "p-please-" you whine, buckling your hips to get more friction.

"what do you want, love?" a new, incoherent whine slips past your lips, and lando answers with a chuckle. "use your words."

"take... take them off..."

he leans back, and you instantly miss the contact. but then you hear him shuffle around a little and feel the mattress dipping. "as you wish."

you suck in a breath when you feel his touch again, the anticipation in your stomach growing as his tip drags along your folds. and when he pushes the tip right past your entrance, relief washes over you – finally, after so much teasing, you'll get what you wanted.

or, that's what you thought.

lando doesn't go any further. he pushes just a few centimeters into you before sliding right out again. then he repeats his actions yet again.

he's not being fair.

"lando," you cry out, throwing your head back and arching your chest off the mattress. he doesn't answer, too absorbed in the view before him. and to think that he's the only one who gets to see you like this: whiny, needy, helpless. he thinks he's the luckiest man in the world.

he takes the opportunity right as he's presented with it; with the way your neck is exposed like that, how could he not lean down and press his lips to it?

his kisses are sloppy and slow, traveling down your throat and along your collarbones, leaving little lovebites in their wake. you hook an arm around his neck to keep him close and you begin to grind down on him, hoping he'll give in. but he just pulls his own hips back, pulling away from you instead of meeting your thrusts.

"i know i was wrong," you finally get out. "i shouldn't have flirted with him. but don't you think i've been punished enough already?"

he laughs yet again, and the sweet sound irritates you just as much as it turns you on. "hey," he says, pressing one last kiss to the side of your neck. "i want you to look into my eyes as i thrust into you, okay?" he pauses for a second, his breath warm against your throat. "can you be a good girl and do that for me?"

it takes all of the energy in your body for you to nod, before letting your eyes flutter open slowly. your gaze meets his instantly, and it satisfies him completely. you batting your innocent eyes up at him has always worked; you always get what you want.

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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

Note

hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)

and got an idea based off of it

what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)

A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.

Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1,971

Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.

When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.

As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.

Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.

Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.

Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.

Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.

Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.

Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.

"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.

He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.

"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."

The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.

"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.

"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"

Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.

"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."

"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"

Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.

"So, what's your name?"

The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.

"Y/n."

There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."

Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.

"Alastor?"

It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.

"It really is you... isn't it."

Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.

"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.

The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.

"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Y/n laughed tearfully.

"Me too."

"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"

"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."

"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"

Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

"Are you jealous?"

Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.

"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.

"Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."

"So tell me."

Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.

"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"

Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.

"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."

Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.

"You're married!?"

"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"

"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.

"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."

"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.

Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.

"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."

Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.

"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."

"Oh hush you."

"Make me."

Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.

"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"

"With pleasure."

Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.

"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.

"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."

"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."

"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3

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momotonescreaming · 4 months

Text

STWG Daily Prompt: Date Night

“Does Thursday work?” Jeff asks, voice tinny and sort of muffled. Eddie can hear the sound of flipping pages, the creak of the plastic from the phone's speaker.

“Shit, sorry dude.” Eddie says, looking at the loose pages of lined paper he's scribbled his schedule on. It works for him, and it's better than nothing. “That's date night.”

A pause. For a moment, all Eddie can hear is the sound of Jeff breathing through the speaker.

“Date night, huh?” Jeff eventually asks, and Eddie can hear the smarmy grin he's wearing. It's leaking into his voice, the absolute delight in it all. Just the right side of teasing, the bastard. He'd hate it, would snap and snarl and throw it all back if he wasn't also fucking delighted.

He could say that now. He had a boyfriend, who holds his hands and kisses him and schedules date nights. He gets this. He gets to talk about it with his best friend. Can mention he has a date and doesn't have to hide the fact that it's with his boyfriend. He gets to share in the gentle ribbing for once. It's not just him on the outside looking in — as they tease Gareth for getting a date with a girl from his English class, or Jeff hitting his anniversary with his girlfriend.

Eddie's been domesticated and he doesn't mind in the slightest.

“Yes, it's date night,” Eddie retorts, trying to send as much faux malice down the phone as he can. He's smiling though, as he sits at the kitchen table, phone cord absently tangled through his fingers. “And Steve's been working hard planning it, so I will not be rescheduling.”

“I didn't ask you to,” Jeff laughs, tone light.

“Well good.” Eddie teases, wishing they were having this conversation in person so he could stick his tongue out. Really ham it up.

Another pause, and Eddie uses the silence to flip through his papers, looking through all the events and dates and times he's scribbled out. Fuck, he really needs a calendar.

“So?” Jeff prompts, drawing the word out. “Tell me about date night.”

“You sound like your mother,” Eddie laughs, holding the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, pinning it there so he can free up his hands. So he can sort through his papers and fidget with the phone cord at the same time “Begging for gossip.”

“You love my mother,” Jeff retorts — snappish — but it's obvious he's smiling. Laughing through it. “And you say that like you aren't gagging to talk about it. Come on.”

“Okay fine,” Eddie relents. Sighing as he sinks into his chair, slouching, his socked feet skating across the floor. “You caught me.”

“Not hard,” Jeff laughs.

“Steve’s been talking a lot about wooing me lately,” Eddie starts, ignoring Jeff’s teasing. He finds himself smiling as he talks, creeping across his face uncontrollably. Fuck, the things Steve does to him. “As if he hasn’t wooed me already. So he’s planned this like, romantic dinner at home. Instead of going out to Enzo’s he wants to like, bring Enzo’s to us? Said he was going to treat me right. Have the fancy dinner I deserve, where we can play footsie under the table and hold hands without, y’know, worrying.”

By the end of his sentence Eddie’s feeling like he’s melting into his chair, insides melting into something soft and gooey. Pulling his hair across his face to hide his blush. Jeff can’t even see him, but he can’t help it. He wants to giggle and kick his feet. Jump and scream and flail around. It’s all building up inside him, this honey sweet affection. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it all.

“He going to light candles? Have soft music playing in the background?” Jeff asks, teasing melting away into something softer.

“Literally yes,” Eddie exclaims, dropping his hair and trying not to wiggle too much in his seat. “He’s so sweet, I’m going to throw up.”

“He’s good for you, man.” Jeff says simply, and it means a lot. That other people can see it — can know — just how happy Steve makes him.

[Part Two]

#steve harrington #eddie munson #jeff stranger things #steddie #steddie ficlet #stwgdailyprompt #My Writing

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snapnov4 · 6 months

Text

marry me | gojo satoru

synopsis: a bad idea disguised as a practical joke turns into something way deeper than you intended it to be.

wc: 1.1k

cw: just good ol fluff!

a/n: happy late birthday to my baby daddy and man of my dreams gojo satoru. i have to marry this man. i have to i have to i have to. anyways. enjoy reading this cute little fic i wrote, meaning i thought abt gojo proposing as a joke and vomited this out. enjoy!

it starts, like all things involving gojo satoru, with a bad idea disguised as a practical joke.

you're sitting across from him, in a restaurant that’s not too fancy, more of a family-type deal. he's forgone his blindfold in favor of his square-framed glasses, but his uniform is still on. he insisted on treating you to dinner after you exorcized an unregistered special grade on your own. however, with gojo, things can't always be so easy; he always adds his patented gojo twist to things, and this time the twist is this terrible joke.

“come on, it'll be funny!” he whines, from across the table.

“you want to propose to me in this restaurant for free food? when you make well over six figures a year? and have full access to thousands of years of old clan money?” you ask, incredulously, reaching to take a sip of your drink, suddenly wishing you had gone with a stronger option.

“yes, exactly. what's not clicking?”

“uhmmm, all of it?”

“look it'll be funny. you could even say no, then you can run out and i get free food as pity points,” he smiles at you, and you find it hard to keep saying no. “i mean, they'll probably all call you heartless and tell me i deserve better but that's fine.”

“okay and if i say yes, what about a ring? or the fact that we're not even together? how is anyone going to believe you?” you ask, thinking you've backed him into a corner, until he just sighs softly, keeping an easy smile, and reaches into his pocket. he pulls out a black velvet box, and shakes it a bit by his head.

“you think i hadn't planned for that?” he asks, smirking in your direction, trying to hold back laughter at your aghast expression, you drag a palm over your face, finally conceding.

“okay. fine! fine! just…try not to embarrass me. please?”

“no promises! also the waitress is coming this way, so get ready. tears are optional but preferred.”

you roll your eyes at his statement, your gaze following him closely when he stands up and walks over to your side of the table. you look around desperately hoping that no one will actually have their attention drawn to you but the thing about gojo is wherever he goes he commands attention. consequently, when he stands at a whopping 6’7 everyone’s already looking, and when he drops down on one knee in front of you, holding that little velvet box in front of you, you catch people’s smartphones shooting up immediately, great. and you're sure the vision of jujutsu’s strongest sorcerer, taking off his sunglasses and holding up a ring box to you would haunt you forever. you think right under reverse cursed technique in his list of talents, they should add acting, because the look in his eyes almost feels real.

the way your name falls so delicately from his lips, before he clears his throat, feigning nervousness. the way he struggles at first to look you in the eyes, the ring sparkling in the dim lighting. he starts:

“you are truly the most beautiful woman i've ever met, inside and out. to know you and love you is a pleasure too great for words, and i want to continue living in it every day. will you marry me?” you roll your eyes, but the smile across your face is genuine, maybe he was right, maybe this is funny. so you have no issue, saying yes, throwing your arms around his neck as he spins you around, delicately sliding the ring onto your finger. the two of you giggle all the way back to jujutsu tech, containers of your free leftovers in hand.

and so it becomes a tradition.

satoru continues to propose to you every time the two of you get the chance to have dinner together, and despite all your better judgment, you laugh and say yes every time.

and what started as a joke, turned tradition, starts to morph into something else.

satoru notices it on a summer day. you're out with the students, supervising them as they spar. the sun’s been beating down for days, he's standing beside you his eyes trained on your hands. your left ring finger has a tan line, it's from that ring. you're not wearing it, you returned it to him last night, forgetting to give it back after dinner and then desperately trying to get your schedules to align for at least five minutes, but he'd been out of town for a week and when he finally got back late last night to find you working on paperwork in your office, he didn't know why it felt like his heart sank when you slid the ring off and put it in his hand.

now, the box feels heavy in his pocket (when did he start carrying it all the time?) and he looks at you with so much adoration that had his blindfold not been on, he'd look like a love-struck puppy to any passerby. you'd been wearing the ring so much it's left a mark on you, it's obvious you'd been wearing it, the tan line a stark reminder that it was there; and something about it makes satoru wish he could make the next proposal permanent. you turn your head to him, smiling softly.

“the first years are something else this year, gojo, did you see yuuji and maki spar? they're going places,”

and he's not sure why but before he can stop himself he's blurting out:

“let me take you on a date.”

you sputter and falter, turning fully to look at him, “are you being serious?”

he nods, that goofy smile of his making you weak to his every whim, it's the same one he gave you that night at that dinner table; the same one that made you start this tradition.

so he takes you out, and then that becomes a tradition. still every day, he thinks of the way that ring looked on you whenever he slid it on your finger, and how he felt rejected every time you gave it back. he'd clear his schedule if he knew he could have dinner with you, just to see the smile you couldn't stop whenever he got down on one knee.

satoru doesn't propose anymore. he figures the next time he does it, he should be serious about it since you're his girl now. on a tuesday night, you're sitting with him on the couch, your legs are thrown over his lap and he looks at you, focused so intently on a book you've been dying to finish, the bookmark always staying near the end as you get called into emergency exorcisms, and he knows. he fishes that ring out of his pocket, the same one he gave you in that restaurant almost two years ago, and there's no fanfare, no cameras, no theatrics. he just opens the box, looks at you, and says,

“hey baby, let's get married.”

and just like the first time, you smile and say yes.

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #vela is a softie #vela loves gojo #fics #trying out a new header style also #got tired of finding those stupid manga panels

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roosterforme · 2 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 59 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With your wedding on the horizon, it wasn't the best time for you to question your place with Bradley. But he's always patient, and Noah is perfect, and it doesn't take you long to realize that your husband-to-be is always going to see you in a different way than you see yourself.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, blowjob smut, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Now that you were looking at your wedding dress all spread out on the bed, you were afraid to try it on. It looked too perfect. Pristine and white. It was exactly how you imagined it would be when Natasha convinced you to order it, and it looked like it would fit like a glove over your belly which was starting to grow. But right now, you were feeling so overwhelmed.

With your reduced work hours, you were home alone until Bradley and Noah got back in another hour or so. You had the whole place to yourself to do as you pleased. Plenty of time to try this thing on and send some photos to Natasha for her opinion. Then you could unwind with a glass of juice and a nice shower. But today was starting to feel like one of those days where Bradley's perfect bungalow on the perfect street in Coronado wasn't really where you belonged.

When you felt like you were in control of things, this was your castle. You were Bradley's Princess. You were Noah's Mommy. But today you felt like a fraud. Part of you was missing your little rental house where you could feel small and insignificant. Where you only had to take care of yourself. Were you really going to marry a man over a decade older than you? Were you really capable of raising not just Noah but a baby as well?

Mortification and embarrassment flooded your body as the dress mocked you from its place on the bed. You would never be deserving of anything as perfect as this soft fabric. Or this perfect life. Why did Bradley even want you?

"Princess?"

You didn't hear him come in, but now you heard his heavy footfalls as his boots met the hallway floor. He was headed for the bedroom, and you were in tears, staring at the dress. You managed to throw the bedding and pillows on top of it as Bradley entered the room.

"There you are. I was calling your name," he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind and letting his hands rest on your belly.

His touch was everything you always wanted, and he hadn't seen your tears yet. You tried to pull it together as you whispered, "Actually, you were calling my nickname."

"Same thing," he whispered, his nose pressed to your neck.

"You're home early," you said, wiping your eyes. "Did you pick Noah up?"

"Not yet," he said, trying to spin you around to face him. "I thought I'd pick you up first and see if you wanted to go out to dinner after we get him. And maybe we can hit the mall so you can help me choose something to wear for that minor, little occasion that's just around the corner also known as our wedding."

You tried to fight against his grasp on your shoulders, but he spun you easily in place. You'd been too slow to remove all traces of your tears and worry, and his face fell when he looked at you. "Sorry," you whispered. "I'm just having a weird day."

"What's wrong?" he demanded softly, his grip on your hips tightening as his eyes dipped down to your belly.

"We're fine," you whispered, wishing you could convince him that was true.

"Something's bothering you," he said, his brown eyes meeting yours. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Then you started crying as he collected you against his rough flight suit. "You didn't do anything wrong. I don't even know what's wrong! I just don't belong here."

You felt his body go rigid as he held you impossibly tighter. This time he did use your actual first name, and you had to force yourself to meet his eyes. He looked concerned as he asked, "You don't think you belong here? With me? I love you."

But you just shook as tears streamed down your face. You didn't know how to say what you were feeling, so you just started talking through your sobs. "It's perfect though. You know that, right?" you asked, gasping for air as he looked at you in silence. "Your house and your son, and all of it. Everything here is perfect, Bradley. And the wedding dress arrived," you sobbed, gesturing to where there was some white fabric peeking out from the bedding. "And even it's perfect, and I just feel like a fraud. Like I'm inserting myself where I don't even belong. And I don't know how to be a mom."

You had your face buried against his chest, and he let you cry. He didn't say a word, and you weren't sure if that was better or worse right now. He just rubbed his hands in slow circles along your back until you were able to swallow and take some deep breaths. Then he guided you back so you were sitting on the edge of the bed next to the messy bedding, and he knelt down in front of you. His big hand came up to your cheek, and he swiped away some of your tears as he spoke.

"If anything here seems perfect, I can assure you it's because you're here now. It feels perfect to me, too, but it didn't always."

You swallowed hard, letting him trace your bottom lip with his thumb as you whispered, "It didn't?"

Bradley shook his head, his brown eyes wide and sincere. "No. It never felt like this before I met you. You showed up and made everything better until it was perfect. It happened slowly, but I could feel something shift right from the start. Each day got better after Noah fell in love with having you here. And after I'd known you for just a few weeks, I never wanted you to leave."

"After just a few weeks?" you asked as his hands and voice soothed you.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "I knew it. I'm sorry you had to put up with so much shit before we got to the point where it felt perfect, but I knew I wanted you with us. And then I needed you with us. And now I need you to understand that you belong here as much as Noah and I do."

"And Skittles."

The pup popped out of her bed and ran over as soon as you said her name, but Bradley kept his eyes on your face. "Always Skittles. And I hate to break it to you, Princess, but you already are a mom. So stop lying and saying you don't know how to be one. You are Noah's mom, and he's happier than I've ever seen him."

You closed your eyes and let all of his words fade into you. "But the baby will be different," you whispered even as you understood that you did know what to do. You handled kids and babies all day long at work, and you did it with care even though they weren't your own. And you did love Noah like he was yours. "But I think I can do it."

When you slipped off the bed and into Bradley's arms, he cupped your face in those hands and examined you closely. "You're not gonna be doing anything alone, Princess. I'm right here."

You nodded and breathed him in, and you already felt better knowing that this house and Bradley and Noah weren't as perfect unless you were here with them. "Can we go pick Noah up and just come back here for the night? I think I feel better, but I just want to relax."

"Anything you want," Bradley promised, and you let your arms go around his neck so he could help you to your feet. "We can come right back here, where everything feels perfect thanks to you."

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

Bradley wasn't sure exactly what upset you so much earlier, but after you took a shower and ate dinner, he sent you and Noah to the couch to watch Mickey Mouse cartoons. When you paused in the doorway, you reached for him, and he went right to you with a soft kiss. You were wearing his sweatpants and an old tee shirt, and you belonged here. He didn't know how else to make you see that. But you seemed to understand it deep down where it mattered.

"I feel better," you whispered as he kissed your cheek. "My hormones are all over the place, and I'm always tired, but I do feel better. Thank you for being patient."

He was about to tell you that you didn't have to thank him for that when Noah called out. "Mommy? Are you coming?"

A beautiful smile found your lips as Bradley said, "You belong here."

You nodded and turned toward the living room, leaving him in the kitchen to clean up. But he didn't want to have it any other way. He promised you he'd take care of everything around here, and that included wedding planning and decorating for Christmas. One problem was the fact that he barely had any decorations, because he barely had time to do anything before you. The other problem was that you were clearly worn out this week after Disneyland, but he needed your input for the rest of the planning.

After loading the dishwasher, Bradley paused and decided to make you some decaffeinated coffee in his Aviators Look Down on Others mug with an extra dollop of French vanilla creamer. He let it cool on the counter for a few minutes while he wiped down the table, and then he took a sip for himself before heading into the living room. Noah was curled up on your lap, and your fingers were gliding gently in his hair as the two of you watched your show together.

"This is where you belong," he whispered, and you turned to look at him.

"I know," you said with a soft smile.

Bradley snuggled in carefully next to you and handed you the mug, and soon Noah started to fall asleep. When your head came to rest on his shoulder, Bradley said, "How do you feel about me asking Amelia if she can babysit Noah on Saturday so I can take you on a date?"

"A date?" you asked softly.

"Mmmm," he hummed. "Maybe go old school and do dinner and a movie. Something other than pizza and an animated classic. Actually leave the house and stay out past eight o'clock."

You laughed softly as Bradley pushed Noah's soft curls back from his forehead. "You do like to go old school, Daddy."

He rolled his eyes but smiled. "So is that a yes?"

"That's a hell yes," you replied. "A date with my hot baby dad sounds nice. And thanks for letting me have a freak out earlier." You looked up at him with his mug in your hands and his son sprawled halfway across your lap. "I love you, too. And I'm totally ready to get married."

He let your words settle in his mind. There was so much to do. The extra bedroom still needed some work if it was to become the nursery. There were still a few things to finalize for the wedding. But he wanted to do all of it, and that included enjoying every moment with you.

"Well that's good, because I'm totally ready to get married to you, Baby." He kissed your forehead and said, "I'll carry Noah to bed, and then I'll text Amelia and Penny."

When he stood with Noah curled up against his chest, you got to your feet as well, and Bradley's heart leapt as you told him, "I think I feel like trying on my wedding dress now."

"Yeah? You need any help with that?"

You shook your head and stretched, and the soft swell of all your curves was accentuated by your bump. You kissed him softly like he wasn't completely entranced by you. Like he wasn't aching to tuck Noah in and follow you to the bedroom.

"I think I'll keep it a surprise. You can see it on me in a few weeks," you said with a little smirk as he started following you toward the bedrooms.

Every mention of the wedding left him throbbing for you. When you started to close the bedroom door behind you, Bradley said, "As soon as you're undressed again and in bed, you let me know, and I'll be right in."

"Yes, Daddy."

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

As Bradley pulled the Bronco out of the driveway, you waved to Noah and Amelia on the porch. Bradley let you pick the spot for dinner, but he said he was in charge of the movie. Then he mentioned something special that he wanted to get on the way there.

"What's the special surprise?" you asked several times as he drove. "You're just teasing me at this point."

He gave you side eye and reached for your hand. "Thought you liked that sort of thing."

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing and encouraging him. "I like it when you do it in bed a lot more."

He hummed like he was mulling over your words. "Then consider this some quality foreplay: you'll learn what the special surprise is when we get there, and not a moment before."

You moaned like you were in pleasure, and you felt the Bronco jerk a little to the right as Bradley's hand tightened around your fingers. You burst out laughing and looked over at him. "I love it when you talk Daddy to me. Oops, I mean talk dirty."

"You keep moaning like that, and I'll drive off the damn road," he muttered, checking the mirrors and changing lanes.

When he turned right and drove a block, you saw Sweet Dreams Bakery. "Oh, wait," you said, pointing out the window. "That's where you got the princess crown donuts!"

Bradley pulled past and found a spot where he could parallel park. "Yeah, and we can stop later after we buy the special items."

"Oh, we're shopping now?" you asked, happy you brought your credit card along to keep teasing him.

"We are," he confirmed, and when he helped you down from the Bronco, you realized he parked right outside a jewelry store. He led you inside and said, "Shopping for our wedding bands."

You wrapped your arms around his waist, and bounced up and down a bit. You had been making yourself giddy over the idea of Bradley wearing a ring. He was literally letting you stake your claim with something visible, and if your moan in the Bronco was intended to wind him up, the one that just escaped you was one hundred percent authentic.

"Daddy."

His dark eyes were locked onto your lips as he whispered, "Behave."

A sales clerk with a bright smile was headed your way, and Bradley squeezed your hip in warning when she said, "Hi, Mr. Bradshaw."

You looked at Bradley with raised brows. How many times had he been here that they remembered him. "Are you here to pickup your special order?"

"Special order?" you asked as Bradley's cheeks grew pink.

"Uh, we're here to pick out weddings bands," he said, avoiding your eyes.

"Perfect," said the sales clerk, and she was immediately leading the way over to a display case. You were ready to dig your feet in and demand more information about Bradley's special order and why they knew him by name here, but he took you by the hand and tugged you gently along.

You pressed your lips together to keep quiet as you remembered that Casey lived in this neighborhood; you were really starting to dislike the idea of Bradley hanging around here when your eyes settled on a tray of men's wedding rings. "Oh," you said softly.

Bradley kissed your temple and whispered, "Tell me which ones you want me to try on for you, Princess."

You pointed to the plain band right in the middle, and you knew before he even put it on that it was going to be perfect. He picked it up with his right hand and slid it onto his left ring finger. It was a little thicker than a traditional band, and once he had it on, he held his hand up for your inspection.

"It's perfect," you told him, your voice a little breathless.

"You want me to try on any others?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

You kissed the edge of his mustache, letting your body clench at the rough feel of it. "No."

"You sure?" he whispered.

"Yes."

He removed the ring and handed it to the woman who worked there. "This one," he told her while he kept his eyes on you. "It's perfect."

When it was your turn to try some on, Bradley stood behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder. You started to reach for the plain bands that would match with your enormous diamond ring, but Bradley said, "What about one like that? With the little diamonds that go all the way around?"

It was gorgeous. You should have known he'd point out something spectacular looking when you considered how pretty your engagement ring was. "Bradley, it probably costs ten times more than the plain one. Besides, the plain one kind of looks like yours."

When you glanced at him over your shoulder, you were met with those Bradshaw brown eyes that you couldn't seem to say no to. "Humor me?"

So you slid it on with a soft sigh, because it was incredible. "I do like it," you told him, trying to take it off again, but he stopped you with both of his hands.

"Then we should get it."

You tore your gaze away from him and asked the woman, "What's the price difference?"

"Please don't tell her that." You turned back to Bradley to glare at him, but of course you didn't get an answer about the price. He had the upper hand in this store. "If the price didn't matter, would you want this one?" he asked you, tapping the ring where it was still sitting on your finger.

"Maybe," you whispered. "But the plain one is just as-"

"You're not plain. You're a Princess."

The kiss you gave him was a little indecent, but you didn't really care. He slid the ring from your finger as you tasted his mouth, and you assumed he gave it to the saleswoman so he could buy it for you. You just didn't want to let go of him as his big hands moved down your sides to your belly, and then he broke the kids.

"I would get you anything you want," he whispered, his lips ghosting along yours. "Same goes for both of my kids. Now let's get dinner before we miss the movie."

You tried to pay with your credit card, but this time he shook his head and told you to put it away. The woman was discreet when she ran his card, and then she handed Bradley a bag way bigger than was necessary for two, small rings.

"Is there something for me in the bag besides the wedding band?" you asked, trying to grab it when he led you back outside.

"Maybe," he muttered. "How about you stop asking about it, and I'll buy you some donuts."

Your stomach growled pleasantly at the thought. "Great idea. We can have dessert before dinner and the movie."

Bradley smirked. "And then after the movie, we can have another round of dessert."

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

Bradley couldn't get enough of watching you eat your dinner with your hand occasionally pressed to your belly as you chatted away. He wasn't too concerned about the way you'd been overwhelmed to the point of tears a few days ago. You were tired and pregnant and working and busy being a Mom to Noah. Your hormones were changing again after the progesterone shots ended, and he knew it was a lot. Honestly, it was a lot for him to process, too.

But tonight you looked like you always did. Young and perfect and vibrant as you told him a story about something that happened at work. You ate and ate, picking up another piece of garlic bread after you told him you were getting full.

"If you're still hungry, we can always skip the movie," he mused, and you paused as you ran the last bit of bread through the sauce on your plate.

"Oh my goodness," you said, eyes wide. "I didn't know I was basically inhaling my food."

He just shrugged as he said, "Well, you are gaining weight."

A smile found your lips, and then they were twitching before you started laughing. "Wow, Bradley. You got all the smooth lines. It's a wonder none of your app dates were successful."

He hooked your feet with his under the table as you tried to stop laughing. "That was entirely your fault. It had nothing to do with my lines, because I wasn't trying very hard. And you're supposed to be gaining weight."

You were still grinning as you said, "Once again, coming in hot with the seduction."

You were still teasing him when he signed the credit card receipt and stood. He helped you to your feet and said, "Maybe I was just saving all my worst lines to use on you. Make sure you really love me. You ever think of that, Princess?"

"It worked," you told him. "I actually do love you. And I especially can't wait for you to start wearing your wedding band." You gasped as he held the restaurant door open for you. "What are we going to do for music for the wedding? We don't have a wedding band."

"Oh," he said with a laugh. "I made a playlist."

"You made a playlist?"

"Yeah, you wanna hear it while I drive to the movie theater?"

He handed you his phone and let you start up the playlist. The first song was okay. So was the second one. You skipped along a few more songs, and then you looked at him while he drove and said, "It's all your old people music."

"Damn. Who's being rude now?" he laughed.

"It's just that it's all from the '80s!"

"So am I."

"Bradley! Be so serious!"

"What? You know how old I am."

"I'm adding some things to the playlist, and if I find the Electric Slide in here, I'm deleting it."

Bradley ran his palm across his mouth and said, "There's my little brat."

You sat up straighter in your seat, clearly proud of yourself as you tapped away on his phone screen. It was so hard to surprise you; the way you reasoned through things was exquisite. He should have known you'd call him out on the extra item from the jewelry store, and now you were glancing out the window as he pulled past the movie theater.

"Throwback '80s night?" you said, reading the marquee out loud. "Bradley Bradshaw!"

"Okay, fine," he said, parking and killing the engine. "I'm old, and I like old shit. But really, the movie selection was just for you, Princess."

You turned and looked at the marquee again as it changed to show the retro film of the night. "Adventures in Babysitting!"

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

Bradley pulled some of the cash from the spot behind the TV and gave it to Amelia as she collected her belongings. She and Noah made some art projects together which she said were drying on the kitchen table, and once again, she offered to watch him anytime.

"He's the sweetest little guy," she promised as her eyes dipped down to your belly. "But you'll have to pay me more to watch two."

"We can negotiate your rate when the time comes," Bradley said with a laugh while he opened the front door.

"Deal."

She walked along the path to her parked car, and Bradley made sure it started up before he shut the door. He was turning the lock as he asked, "Did you like the movie?" But then his hand froze when he realized where your fingers were.

"I did," you promised, pulling his jeans zipper down over his considerable bulge. He wasn't even hard yet, but you were already so turned on. "Wanna go on your own adventure? With your former babysitter?"

You weren't subtle as you looked up at him and licked your lips, tugging him gently toward the couch. "If I ever say no to you, then there's something seriously wrong with me," he groaned, letting you pull his jeans and underwear down so his soft length hung out from beneath his shirt.

When he dropped down onto the cushion, you dragged his jeans down to his calves so he could spread his legs open a little wider. You kissed his tip and he made a soft sound at the back of his throat as he started to get hard. You dragged your hands up and back down his full length, keeping your eyes locked on his. "Hi, Daddy," you whispered before dragging your tongue along the pretty bead of his precum, enjoying the way he throbbed.

"Hi, Princess," he managed as you smiled up at him. His voice sounded strained as you moved slowly and meticulously, stroking him until he was rock hard.

Right before you took him between your lips, you said, "We're getting married." You smiled around his length as he whined your name, and you let him thrust until he tapped the back of your throat. Then you sucked along his length, inch by inch, until he popped free from your lips, and you whispered, "And we're having a baby."

His fingers found your cheek, his skin a little rough against your face as you rested your head on his thigh. Bradley's eyes were glued to yours, watching you with wide pupils as you lazily kitten licked his cock and stroked his balls with your thumb. "You look so pretty like this," he rasped, and you kissed him before continuing with your little licks. "You're gorgeous when you're driving me out of my mind."

You giggled softly, and his cock throbbed against your lips. "I like teasing you."

Bradley grunted, his fingers tipping your chin up as he said, "I can fucking tell. And you can tease me all you want as long as you suck me off in the living room for the rest of my life."

You licked his length and whispered, "I'll put it in my wedding vows." Then he guided your parted lips around his cock again, and he moaned in satisfaction as you took him deep.

His stamina was commendable like always. You gagged yourself on him over and over until your saliva was dripping down your chin and his balls. You gripped at his thighs as he thrust up to meet you with his fingers gentle on your face. And all the while, he words were sweet in comparison to the rough hairs rubbing your lip and the tears burning your eyes.

"You're perfect, Baby. Can't get enough. Gonna marry you... my beautiful Princess."

When he finally came, you were sputtering and practically in tears before scrambling up onto his lap as he told you he loved you. Bradley's hands found your belly as you kissed him.

"I love you too, Daddy," you whispered before he dipped his tongue between your lips to taste himself. Soon you and he would be married. You were pregnant and exhausted and letting him do most of the planning, but it would be great. No matter what happened on your wedding day, it would be perfect. You'd have Bradley and Noah as your family. The baby was healthy. You didn't want to overthink how you belonged here and fit with them. You knew that you did, even when it was hard to see yourself the way Bradley always seemed to. You snuggled against him and said, "I think you're perfect, too."

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

I love this family. The next chapter was originally going to be their wedding, but I got some asks about Bradley's bachelor party, and well now I'm intrigued. So there may be one more chapter than I anticipated! If you have DILF Bradley bachelor party thoughts, please let me know. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 60

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524 notes · View notes

m1d-45 · 9 months

Text

for all to see

summary: fontaine’s court of law is questionable on a good day. on a bad day? well…

word count: ~1.2k

-> warnings: you die, blood mention, spoilers for fontaine archon quest (only names of things), potentially ooc neuvillette(?)

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

despite being the nation of justice, fontaine was not known for its fairness.

trials took place in opera houses, the prosecution focused not on proving their claim, but to put on a show. the citizens didn’t care for the outcome if it wasn’t amusing, the archon known for throwing fits if things were too boring. to survive was to be entertaining, painting as many coats of shimmering blue over your soul until it was shiny enough to go outside.

obtuse laws hid around every corner. no floating objects for the first three days of each month. no fonta was to be brought into any government buildings, unless the date was a prime number, in which case it could be any flavor but strawberry. mechanical pens had long since been invented, but had to be classed as a meka, which required a permit that far outweighed the price of the pen itself.

nothing made sense. even neuvilette, as well versed in the law as he was, did not understand the reasoning behind most of these rules.

however, there was one that he backed entirely, the very first law ever established in fontaine—arguably in teyvat as a whole, the very notion of such a crime pulling disgust regardless of origin.

‘Any person or persons found to be impersonating the divine creator, with the exceptions of roles within an opera or other such performance, shall be punished with the full extent of the law, up to and including the death penalty.’

“defendant, do you have any evidence to refute ms furina’s claims?”

you said nothing, staring down at your hands. you’d stopped pulling at the cuffs that bound you to the railing, leaving you still as stone. your entire appearance was disheveled, a result of the nearly year’s long hunt for you. part of him felt pity, but he quickly dismissed it. you deserved this—provided you didn’t, somehow, have evidence to the contrary…

you looked up, overgrown hair falling into tired eyes. you were dirty, dark crusts of blood lining hairline scratches all over your face and arms. you didn’t say a word, but he found himself avoiding your sharp gaze quickly, inspecting your wrists instead. raw, angry, the metal cuffs unkind.

“if you wish to think, say so. if your silence continues, i will be forced to move on.”

you looked back down to the banister wordlessly, the crowd murmuring at your silence. he ignored them.

“we now turn to the oratrice mecanique d'analyse cardinale to render the final verdict on the charges.”

the oratrice clicked and clunked, gears spinning and meshing as the machine drew its conclusion. blue faith filled the tubes within the walls, collecting, then were pulled back in relative quiet. now would be when the scales would return to normal, but he hadn’t heard them tilt at all during the trial… he pushed aside that train of thought once again. he was getting distracted too easily considering the importance of this trial.

he picked up the verdict from the oratrice, addressing the crowd. “according to the judgement of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, the defendant is…” his breath skips as he opened the small folder, something in his chest twisting violently. “…innocent?”

how?

furina sat up in a hurry, the audience clamoring for reasoning, but he barely hears anything. if the oratrice itself declared you innocent, then…

behind furina, his god also stands, cold eyes staring into the crowd. “calm down, everyone. it’s clear this fraud has simply tampered with the oratrice.” your head snapped up as neuvillette closed the pages from the oratrice, sending it back down the chute.

“my god, i can personally assure you that the defendant has not had the opportunity to-“

“silence.”

he bowed his head when they turned to him, mouth dry. something was off about the situation, but what?

“since we clearly have all the evidence in front of us, i think we can safely override the oratrice’s rule.”

“divine one, in fontaine law it clearly states that the oratrice-“

“and i’ve stated that it can be overruled. which is more important, fontaine’s laws or divine laws?” he couldn’t speak. “clorinde, my bow.”

he watched as clorinde produced a bow, as quiet as the crowd below. nobody could say a word—the death penalty hadn’t been imposed in fontaine for years… but this was a special case..

black steel arrows reflected light into his eyes as the creator pointed them at you, his heart thundering. the air was always polluted in fontaine, but it felt twice as oppressive now.

“chief justice. i can’t get a clean shot.”

neuvillette bowed once more, feeling cold. he weaved through the private hallways of the opera house, making his way to the defendant’s balcony.

he didn’t even know your name. you’d refused to give it- refused to say anything, really. how his god had arrived at this verdict was beyond him… but he could not overrule the divine. he opened the door to the balcony, uncertainly stepping to your side.

this was wrong. he could hear it begin to rain, water pattering against the windows, but all he could tangibly feel was confusion. he knew something was wrong, but what?

he lifted his hand but you beat him to it, lifting your head as you turned to face him. “step back,” you mumbled, and he found himself obeying in the split second before the arrow struck. bright blue blood flew into the air, landing right where he would have been.

you didn’t want him to get blood on his clothing.

the rain picked up, lightning striking close and shaking the floor beneath him. the whole house gasped, all eyes turned to you as you collapsed. he couldn’t look away, not when he heard the sound of a sword—clorinde’s, likely, furina was never one for a fight—or the shouts of the gardes. he was paralyzed, watching blue spread out beneath you, reaching the edge of the balcony and beginning to drip.

he’d known. he’d felt it. and yet he was powerless to stop your death, the one he- the one they all perceived as divine pinning down teyvat. he should have known from the moment they overruled the oratrice, should have seen the blue tint to your scratches, should have asked for more evidence before- before—

rain came down in hails, his hands shaking as he stared at the injustice before him.

#genshin #genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvillette angst #genshin angst #sagau angst #genshin impact angst #gender neutral reader #hi. i have been watching miraculous ladybug and have not devoted any time to genshin. uhm.

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violetrainbow412-blog · 6 months

Note

hii, I wish to request a Willy Wonka x reader 😭🙏 where reader doesn’t like chocolate at all because it’s too cloying, so Wonka tries to make the right candy (or chocolate) to give it to the reader at Christmas Eve (he wanted to gave reader a small gift before Christmas day, like a form of confessing his feelings to the reader). And reader also prepares a small gift to Wonka bc they also want to confess their feelings to him

Reader can be gender neutral, or however you want

English isn’t my first language so sorry any grammar mistakes, also sorry if I didn’t explain myself well

have a good day and thanks for reading 😭🫶💐

The Bittersweet Gift of Love [W. W]

Willy Wonka x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

note: don't worry! English is not my first language either. I have to admit that writing with neutral readers is always a challenge for me because I translate my texts directly, but I think this time it's a decent thing. I hope you like it!!

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

What could a chocolatier give to a person who didn't like chocolate? That was the question Willy had been asking himself for the past few weeks.

You hadn't specifically said that you didn't like chocolate, rather it was a matter of not liking the excessively sweet or sticky taste that some had. That is, most of the chocolates he made.

“Maybe it's just that you haven't found the right flavor,” he had told you once, while the two of you were talking.

And he was quite convinced of that, even thinking that if he managed to make something special for you maybe he would earn some affection from you. It would be as if he gave you a certain part of himself, so that you could make it yours.

So it was that Wonka, after reflecting a lot, decided to try all kinds of combinations until he found one good enough to satisfy you. Christmas was approaching and he believed that the occasion would be perfect not only to give you the present, but also to take an important step for which he had not yet had the courage: he wanted to confess his feelings for you.

The man didn't know much about love, however, he knew that he liked you a lot and he wanted you to know it. It was just that he was pretty nervous about it and he hoped everything would turn out as perfect as possible, after all, you deserved it.

Christmas Eve came when he was least expecting it and then it was time to dress in shades of green and red to attend the party that the Smith family would throw, as a thank-you to everyone after Dorothy had heard what the entire group did for help Noodle when she needed it most.

Willy put a lot of effort into buying, with some of the few coins he had left, a cute outfit appropriate to the occasion that he combined with his characteristic coat. When he was in front of the library door he felt the little purple box in his hands extremely heavy and he thought it would be a better idea to put it in his pocket, or else you would realize ahead of time the surprise he had for you.

“Mr. Wonka,” Dorothy greeted, as she opened the door “Come in, come in. It's freezing outside”

“Good night, Mrs. Smith,” he murmured cordially, removing his hat and placing it on a rack in the entryway. Apparently he was the last to arrive, since everyone else was already talking happily in the room.

Of course his eyes went directly to you, who was wearing a green sweater that highlighted your beautiful skin tone and you already had a huge smile on your pink lips from the cold.

“It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka,” said Abacus, being the first to speak “Sit over here.”

He smiled internally at the good fortune that the place the man had left him was right next to you and when you gave him a look, he felt himself blush.

“Hi,” he murmured shyly.

"Hello! I'm so glad you could come."

“I would never miss it,” he responded smilingly. His knees collided with yours and suddenly your warmth seemed to invade him as well, perhaps because of the closeness, but also because of the overflowing love he felt for you “How are you?”

With this question you began a pleasant and private conversation, which developed between close whispers and giggles that made him increasingly nervous. The others didn't mind too much that you didn't participate in the general talks, as they knew that certain unresolved matters probably needed time.

You ate the delicious dinner that the family had prepared, you drank punch, you sang some Christmas carols and when the night had advanced enough you returned to your previous place, although now with fewer people around.

“This is so nice, I love Christmas. The atmosphere is always so homely and warm” you said, with your eyes resting on the simple tree that adorned the room.

It was almost midnight and the others were in the kitchen sorting through some of the cookies that Noodle had put there an hour ago, which only left you and the chocolatier in the living room.

“I guess I believe you, your eyes are literally shining now,” he said happily. He felt like sliding his hand into yours and this time, steeling himself, he didn't hold back. You flinched slightly when you felt that.

“What are you doing?”

“I have something for you,” he breathed, feeling strangely excited by what he was about to do “It's a gift.”

“Oh, Willy,” you responded, a bit incredulously, as you bent down to grab something from your bag on the floor. “I have something for you, too.”

He chuckled when he saw the box lined with bright red and a purple bow decorating it, since it was a pleasant coincidence that you had also prepared something for him.

“But don't tell anyone, because he didn't bring gifts for the others,” you added, quietly, and then he helped you up, still holding onto your hand.

"Come with me"

He led you to an empty room and he closed the door behind you, hoping he only needed enough minutes to not raise suspicions among the rest of the guests. You were nervously holding the gift, with both hands now that he had let go of you.

“Okay, listen. I wanted to do something special for you today,” he began to explain, as he pulled the box out of his pocket. “And I also added, uh… a note. You don't have to read it now or anything, but it says something in it that I want you to know."

“You're starting to scare me,” you stammered, obviously nervous. Willy was going to ask what you meant until he saw you take a small envelope out of your pocket, which you placed on the red paper. “Because I have the same thing for you.”

He stumbled a little at the second coincidence of the night and he wondered what your note could be about. He knew that he had written a little poem confessing how he felt about you, but... what if you were just wishing him a Merry Christmas? He was going to look like a complete fool.

“You can read mine in a more… private place if you feel comfortable. Maybe alone,” he suggested, though he knew it was more for his comfort than yours.

“Huh, how about we just open the gifts and leave the notes for later? I wouldn't want you to read mine now either” you murmured, just as shy as him.

Willy agreed and you extended your gift in his direction, hinting that he would be the first to open. He undid the bow, carefully, and then opened the box, revealing a beautiful scarf.

“Wow, I…”

"Do you like it? I made it myself”

“I don't believe you,” he said immediately, looking even more surprised. “It's beautiful, I really love it. Thank you so much"

He wasted no time and placed the garment around his neck. Curiously, it matched the rest of his outfit.

"It looks pretty"

“Mine is also a gift made by me. Feel free to tell me if you don’t like it, I… I’ll understand, okay?” you looked a little confused at that and then he took out the piece of chocolate, carefully placed inside the box “I know you don't like chocolate, but I don't think anyone should live without consuming such a great delicacy. So I made you this, because it doesn't have those things that you don't like. It's... different, but I hope you like it”

With some shyness he offered you the sweet and you put it in your mouth, under his watchful eye during the process. You tasted what he had offered you: it was a little bitter, but not in that way that makes your head hurt or leaves a bad taste on your palate, but with just the right touch. It was firm and didn't melt in your mouth, but decent enough to chew on. And finally, it had a touch of something indecipherable to you, but that gave it a certain exotic flavor that was pleasant to your senses.

He, without knowing everything you were experiencing, kept looking at you because he wanted to analyze your reaction to know what you really thought, and luckily your reaction showed agreement with what your chocolate lips said:

“It is the best chocolate I have ever tasted”

Willy felt that like the greatest compliment in the world and he couldn't help a smile crossing his face, satisfied with himself for having achieved his goal, but above all for seeing the happy expression on your face.

“You will never have to eat chocolates you don't like again, I have a jar full of these just for you. They will even bear your name."

It was inevitable not to take a step towards him to hug him and the boy, although at first he seemed surprised, soon responded to you.

“No one had ever done anything like this for me. I appreciate it a lot"

“Well, it's my Christmas gift. I wanted it to be something special,” he confessed, feeling his heart beating in time with yours “Merry Christmas, Y/N”

“Merry Christmas, Willy,” you said. The note in his hand felt extremely heavy and he was eager to read it, but he knew he would have to wait a while.

Suddenly you heard Noodle calling your names and you got out of there before anyone else noticed your absence, which worked because the girl was walking around the hallway when you were closing the door.

“It's going to be midnight, come here,” she said and you obeyed.

Dorothy revealed that she had a small present for each person and you began to look under the tree, eager to find out what would be in those little boxes. It wasn't something very ostentatious, but you were grateful anyway.

So, when no one was looking, you ran to the bathroom to finally read whatever he had written to you, hoping it wasn't as embarrassing as the confession you had made. You were stunned to learn the content and for a moment you feared you were dreaming, but you weren't.

When you left you knew well what your intentions were and your heart stopped for a moment when you noticed that Willy was nowhere to be seen, until Lottie told you that she had seen him heading to the kitchen. You rushed over and when you opened the door you noticed that he was about to do the same, with a bright expression on his face.

A second later he had already pulled you inside and without saying another word, he kissed you.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #willy wonka x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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moneyndior · 2 months

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୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ you’re too sweet for me. ⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! luke feels as if you’re too sweet for his bitter self.

tags/warnings; luke castellan x apollo!reader, teenage dirtbag!luke, mutual yearning for each other, luke being kinda insecure, luke taking reader’s innocence as a bad thing, grape and wine mentioned a lot, my interpretation of ‘too sweet.’

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ go listen to too sweet by hozier tmrw. also i threw this up because i fear i might leave for the week next week since it’s spring break and i wanna see my friends

—

you watched as luke walked past you. again.

what you did to deserve such treatment like this—you’ll never know. you truly did all you could to seem sweet, kind, gentle—loving. but it’s like none of those qualities appealed to him.

it’s like it pushed him away. like you being too sweet was too much for him. you tried to not be overbearing, overly clingy, too sensitive, everything. because you genuinely liked luke.

and you genuinely liking someone was rare. you treated your body like it was sacred—something that not even the gods above could touch.

luke seen the disappointment in your eyes as you bit your tongue. he’s doing this for your own good, he’s doing this for your own good. he swears it up and down.

he’s too much of, well, an asshole if we’re being honest. you’re a deity he’d hear about from stories passed down from generation to generation. he’d pray and worship you if you weren’t actually in the same camp as him.

luke wants nothing more than to protect you, truly. corrupting a girl like you was the last thing he’d want.

he wants nothing more than to be the guy to hold you, to kiss you, to brush your hair, to be your assistant when your fixing up another broken nose. luke prays to experience such a thing in another life.

his bitterness and your innocence were just something that were never meant to be. and luke took that harder than you did.

you were as soft as rain, as bright as the morning, pretty as a vine and as sweet as a grape. luke would wait forever for you to, inevitably turn bitter. slowly but surely, he believed everyone did. he wished that he could sit you gently on a barrel and wait for you.

but watching you patch up percy with the most careful precision he’d ever seen made him feel different.

like he’d take his whiskey with a chaser instead of neat like luke normally would. he’d throw out his plain black coffee and take whatever iced latte you prefer.

seeing how well you are with kids would make him hear wedding bells. luke pushed the chimes to the back of his head and finally took his eyes off you as he seen a younger aphrodite girl rush up to you, frantic.

“y/n! help me, please! i got a paper cut and it’s bleeding and it hurts! will it scar? be honest!”

you couldn’t help but giggle at lottie as she looked like she was on the verge of tears. for a moment, you didn’t think about luke. you rushed her into your cabin, under the premise that ‘you’ll do everything you can to make sure it doesn’t scar her pretty finger.’

lottie felt you put a band-aid on her with the utmost gentleness she’d ever felt. a thumb wiped away the tears that couldn’t seem to fall down her cheek.

as you guided her back to her cabin with a smile across the blond’s face, you felt a pair of eyes watching you.

luke wanted to be right there with you, helping lottie, praising you as he kissed your temple. but he stood several meters away with a clenched jaw as his brows in their normal furrowed state.

he knew he couldn’t go up to you like he prayed he could. maybe in a few years, months even. if he prayed to you hard enough. if he clenched his hands together harder.

luke castellan would rather hold the 7 realms with his pinkie than ever corrupt what he grew to love about you. even if it meant pushing you away, pushing you to love another, he’s doing it for your own sake.

maybe he would have to forget praying to the gods for a day and be selfish. just this once. he’d pray that the grape he loved so much would turn to wine faster.

things that were too sweet for luke were simply too much.

#—LUKE CASTELLAN #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan blurb #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #apollo!reader #luke castellan x apollo!reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #i love you hozier #hozier you lyrical genuis you

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punkshort · 5 months

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somewhere to run | 3. the statement

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You finally visit the station to give Joel your statement about the incident and he has concerns about you returning to work.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, slow burn, possessive thoughts, mutual pining

WC: 5.5K

Series Masterlist

Joel's business card was taped to your fridge, a glaring beacon every time you strolled by for a glass of water or to throw something in the trash. Every single time, your eyes drifted to it, the numbers practically memorized by now.

You knew he gave you the card for professional reasons. But he did make a point of mentioning his cell phone was also listed. What did that mean? What did you want it to mean?

It's been two days. Two whole days since the attempted robbery, since that man put his hands on you, since the last time you saw Joel. You were supposed to work the dinner shift tonight. The first night back at work since the incident. Joel never came in at night, you've only ever seen him at lunch, and you felt fear. Fear of going back there, to the literal scene of the crime, and knowing this time Joel wouldn't appear from around the corner to protect you.

You took a shaky breath in and looked at the time. It was almost nine in the morning. You had been up for hours already, the anxiety of going back to work waking you far earlier than you wished. Walking back in the kitchen, you looked at that card again while you chewed on your lower lip. He did say to call him when you were ready to give your statement. You picked up your phone and stared at the black screen, your thumb hovering over it, poised to wake it up.

Which number do you call? His office, or his cell?

If you called his cell, that would mean something else, right? That's far more personal. He might misconstrue things if you called his cell, and things could get complicated. You couldn't let him get wrapped up in the drama of your personal life. He didn't deserve that. He had a daughter, he has a life. You couldn't let things get personal with him, although the lines already felt like they were blurring.

Before you lost your nerve, you punched in the number to his office and hit the green button. You paced around your kitchen, listening to ring after deafening ring until finally the line picked up. Voicemail. Shit.

Without thinking, you hung up before his outgoing message finished. You didn't anticipate leaving a message, you didn't have anything rehearsed.

You walked by the fridge again, your phone clutched in your hand, your eyes glancing at the little white card taped there. With a sigh, you punched in the second number - his cell.

While you waited for him to pick up, you nervously chewed on your nail, your heart thudding in your chest wildly. You thought his voicemail was going to pickup again, but at the last moment, the ring was cut off and you heard rustling on the other end before his deep voice carried through the speaker.

"Miller."

Your breath caught in your throat. His voice sounded stern. Stoic. You forgot to breathe. You heard him pull the phone away from his ear, checking to see if the call dropped before repeating himself a little louder into the receiver. Finally, you forced yourself to speak.

"Joel?"

Your voice sounded so small, so weak compared to his. You heard him take a breath in and say your name softly before asking you to hold on. There was more rustling on the other end, voices fading into the background before you heard the soft click of a door and then silence.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice no longer hardened.

"Yes," you lied, fidgeting nervously with the cuff of your sweatshirt. There was a long pause before he spoke again.

"Hadn't seen you at the diner. I asked, no one's heard from you and I -" he stopped talking and you realized you had stopped breathing, waiting for him to continue. "I was worried. Almost came by, but I didn't wanna upset you."

You nodded as though he could see you.

"Sorry. I just needed some time to get through it," you explained.

"You coulda called me, y'know," he said quietly. "We coulda talked about it, or if you want, I got the number of a shrink we use here to help people out when stuff like this happens. She's real good."

"That's okay," you said, declining the offer.

It was silent for another minute before you remembered the reason for your call.

"You wanted me to give a statement?"

Joel paused, realizing now that you called not for a friend, but for the sheriff.

"Right," he said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. "When are you free?"

"I work tonight, can I come by before then?"

"Yeah, 'course. I'm here all day."

"Okay. Maybe an hour?" you asked, glancing at the clock.

"Sure."

"Okay."

There was another long silence again as you waited for him to end the call. When it became clear he wasn't going to say anything, you spoke again.

"I'll see you in a bit, then."

He sighed, a deep, heavy sound filtering through the phone, then repeated your words back. See you in a bit.

You hung up, taking a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Then you caught sight of your reflection in the toaster and you cringed. You desperately needed a shower.

You hadn't been to the police station before, but everyone in town knew where it was. It was a two story building near the center of town, with three big flagpoles and a handful of police cars parked out front. It wasn't very far from your apartment, but it was in the opposite direction of the diner. You realized as you walked up to the front door that Joel most likely walked past your apartment twice a day as he made his way back and forth for lunch. The thought of him nearby so often brought you a strange amount of comfort.

When you approached the older woman at the front desk to explain your reason for being there, she seemed to already know as she picked up the phone and hit a button, waiting for Joel to pick up on the other end. Her eyes stared a little too long at your neck as she told Joel you were there, and you self consciously fiddled with your purse strap over your shoulder. You had tried to cover up the bruises with a little bit of ancient makeup you found in a toiletry bag, but apparently you didn't do a very good job.

Moments later, you heard a door unlock and Joel step out, his eyes instantly stopping on you standing in the middle of the lobby and you felt the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He was wearing a dark blue suit you didn't remember seeing before, with a black tie and a white dress shirt. And you could have been wrong, but it looked like he had an air of nervousness about him, as well. His hair looked tousled and his voice held a small tremor when he said your name and motioned for you to follow him back.

As you walked through the station, you glanced around at the familiarity of the bullpen: rickety old desks shoved up against each other with piles of folders, empty mugs of coffee and ancient looking computers adorning them. Men hunched over eating or talking on the phone, barely sparing you a glance. You followed obediently behind Joel as he led you towards the back, towards the interrogation rooms, and you froze, a small noise slipping past your lips. He heard it and turned around.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"No," you said quickly, but he could tell you were lying. He waited, looking at you expectantly. When you still didn't say anything, he looked around, trying to figure out the problem.

"Did you prefer to talk in my office?" he finally asked, jutting his chin towards the front where there was a small, messy area with windows around the whole room so he could look out at the bullpen. You glanced at it and nodded.

His office was what you expected: a few outdated photos of him and Sarah sat on the lip of his desk, along with file folders, half of which were open with a black ballpoint pen left on top, as though he were in the middle of writing out a thought when you arrived. His computer didn't even look like it was turned on. The chair he sat in groaned under his weight, the cracked leather squeaking against his belt. You sat in the chair opposite him: an old, stained thing that you could feel had all of its padding flattened underneath the blue fabric.

"Can I get you anythin'? Coffee? Water?" he asked you, his eyes glued to his desk as he tried to tidy up his mess.

"No," you said softly, watching as he pulled out a legal pad and flipped to a fresh page, then clicking his pen and scrawling your name and date at the top with a few other notes, most likely a case file number or another identifying code.

"Alright, ever done one of these before?" he asked routinely, still writing on the pad.

"Yes."

The pen stopped.

Slowly, he brought his gaze up to meet yours, but you just waited for him to continue.

He wanted to ask. You could see it, the question burning behind his eyes, and maybe he was about to before he remembered his place, and he swallowed it down.

"Okay," he said, setting his pen down and lacing his fingers together on the desk. "Shouldn't take too long. I saw most of it. We got a few statements from other customers, too. Just need to know how it started, what you were doin', what he said. That kind of thing."

You nodded and steeled yourself with a deep breath before speaking.

"You had just walked away to use the restroom," you began, and he picked up the pen and started writing. "I had just filled your coffee. I wasn't paying attention, I was distracted that day." You glanced up at him, but he kept his eyes down on the paper. "I heard someone clear their throat. He must -"

"Marcus?"

"Yes, Marcus must have sat down when I wasn't paying attention. I apologized and grabbed another mug for him. I already had the coffee, so I walked over and poured it -"

"Did he ask for coffee?" Joel interrupted, and you stopped to think.

"No, I just poured it. Most customers ask for coffee so I guess I assumed."

"Okay, keep goin'," Joel said, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scribbled on the pad.

"I was looking down at the mug, telling him the specials and then-" you stopped, your words getting trapped in your throat. His writing paused and he looked up at you.

"It's alright," he soothed. "Take your time."

You took in a shaky breath and forced yourself to continue.

"He slid the gun across the counter, and I panicked."

"Did he say anythin'?"

"Um, I don't think so?" you replied, swallowing the lump in your throat as you dropped your eyes to your lap.

"Okay," he said softly. You looked up at him again and met his warm gaze, his eyes soft and kind, and you found the courage to continue.

"I asked him what he wanted," you said, your voice beginning to shake, but you pushed through. "He said he wanted the money in the register and gave me a bag."

"Mhmm," Joel said, nodding along as he began writing again.

"I was scared. M-my fingers - my hands were shaking. I was trying to open the drawer, but I couldn't and he was getting impatient," you said, tears welling up in your eyes now. Joel was still focused on writing but you could see the muscle in his jaw twitch as you spoke.

"Then what?" he said, his voice turning colder, and you shivered involuntarily.

"He told me to hurry the fuck up or something like that," you said, sniffling a little. "I told him I was new and I was trying-"

Joel muttered something under his breath and you stopped. You looked at him, waiting for him to repeat himself, but he just sighed.

"Sorry, go on," he said, rubbing his thumb across his forehead.

"That's when you saw him," you said. He nodded, his pen hovering over the page.

"I don't wanna make you relive it," he said, his eyes cast down. "But can you briefly explain what he did?"

"You told him to put the gun down," you continued, trying to be quick at this point. "He grabbed me by the neck and pulled me across the counter. He held me against his chest and had his gun against my head."

"Okay, thank you," Joel said firmly, effectively telling you to stop, but you kept talking.

"I couldn't breathe," you whispered, and he dropped the pen, squeezing his eyes shut, his nostrils flaring. "He was gripping my throat so tight, it made me dizzy. I was so scared, I thought-"

"That's enough!" Joel said loudly, making you jump.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, a tear trickling down your cheek. He shook his head, his eyes still closed.

"Don't apologize," he said, but his voice was tense.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at you. At first, his gaze traveled to the tear on your cheek and guilt flashed across his face before looking into your eyes again. You swallowed and it felt like the muscles in your throat seized up. Looking at the anguish in his face, you wondered what you did wrong.

"Is that all?" you asked, breaking the silence. He just looked at you, his eyes traveling down your face and stopping on your bruised neck. His fingers twitched.

"Wish you woulda called me," he said, his voice soft again. "Shouldn't've been alone."

"I'm fine," you told him, but neither of you believed it. "I will be fine," you conceded when he gave you a look.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, then raked his fingers through his already tousled curls and you watched as each one flopped back into place.

"Tonight your first day back?"

"Yes."

He nodded and ticked his jaw to the side, his eyes moving up and down your face.

"How're you feelin' 'bout that?"

You shrugged, trying to come off nonchalant, but he saw right through it. He tilted his head to the side and gave you a look that said cut the bullshit.

"Not great. But I'll manage," you finally admitted. "Gotta move past it sometime, right?"

"You want me to pop in later?" he asked, but you quickly shook your head.

"Thank you, but no. What are the chances it'll happen twice?" you said with a dry laugh. He allowed himself a small smile for your benefit then looked down. You picked up your phone to check the time, then stood.

"I should go, I have to run some errands before work," you said, reaching down to pick up your purse as he got up from his desk, his hands on his hips.

"If you wanna talk-"

"Call you?" you finished for him, raising your eyebrows with a smirk. He smiled and nodded, then led you to the front lobby.

"Now I got your number, so you can't go disappearin' again," he reminded you.

"I didn't disappear, I had a couple days off from work," you said, rolling your eyes but you couldn't stop your lips from turning up into a smile.

"You left me with Betty, y'know."

"What's so wrong with Betty?" you asked, turning around when you reached the front door. The older woman at the front desk glanced up at you both.

"Nothin', and don't you dare go sayin' otherwise or she'll have my hide," he said, and you giggled.

"Well, you'll have me tomorrow," you assured him, and he felt a rush of blood between his legs. Get your mind outta the gutter, Miller.

"Lookin' forward to it," he murmured, and you waved goodbye, pushing the door open and leaving him standing there, his mind swirling.

He turned around once he could no longer see you walking down the sidewalk, a stupid grin on his face which quickly disappeared when he saw Helen staring at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, turning to look at her computer.

When he got back to his office, Joel mentally scolded himself for his behavior. What was he thinking? He couldn't believe he let his feelings for you get in the way of a case. But when you began to describe what happened from your perspective, something inside him snapped. He felt the rage bubbling below the surface with your every word and shaky breath. It was a miracle he didn't run in the back and strangle Marcus with his bare hands.

But he felt even worse for raising his voice at you. You didn't deserve that. All you were trying to do was what was asked of you, and he practically yelled at you.

You looked confused, but how could he explain himself? He couldn't tell you to stop talking because hearing how scared you were was doing something to him. Something that he knew was not part of the job. Something he thought before today he could keep separate.

He ran his rough hands over his beard and he exhaled slowly, letting his mind drift back to that day.

When he saw Marcus standing in front of you at the register, he never felt fear like that before. His job didn't usually put him in much danger. It was a quiet town, but every town had their bad apples. Over the years, he had a couple run-ins that might be considered close calls, but the other day at the diner took the cake.

Everyone knew Marcus was relatively harmless. He had never hurt anyone before when driven to do crazy things by his addiction. But Joel wasn't ready to take that chance. Not with you.

He had told Marcus he would have killed him, and he meant every word.

He told you over and over that he wanted you to call him if you wanted to talk about what happened, but now he wasn't sure he could. How could he, when his blood ran hot at just the mere memory of that gun pressed against your sweet, perfect face?

He was worried you would flee. That you would run back to Pennsylvania, back to your home where surely things like this never happened to you. You had been here but a couple weeks and someone already threatens your life? If it were him, he would probably consider leaving town.

When he didn't see you for the past two days, he thought that was exactly what you did. He laid awake at night, fighting the urge to sneak out while Sarah slept to see if your lights were on. He was so desperate to confirm you were still in town, he had actually paced outside of your apartment after lunch, coming dangerously close to ringing your bell, but he was too afraid. He was afraid if he rang the bell and you didn't answer, his heart would break. And he wasn't sure he could handle that. So he let you be, and prayed to whatever god was above that you were still around, because he realized far too quickly that he had no way of contacting you if you disappeared.

But now, he did. He stared down at his phone, at the number you called him from earlier that morning, and he saved it under your name. He considered briefly if he should put an emoji next to your name, but realized that would be ridiculous and just left it.

His thumb hovered over your contact, the little message symbol tempting him beyond belief. He wasn't much of a texter - he usually only texted Sarah and the occasional poker buddy - but he really wanted to send you a message. No, he shouldn't. It would come off too desperate. You just left, what else was there to say?

What a ridiculous question. There was mountains left to say, but he couldn't do it. Betty already tested the waters for him and you said no. But maybe that's changed. And if it hasn't, he would keep trying until it does. He was nothing if not persistent.

He sighed, looking out of the window of his office at the men typing away at their computers or talking on the phone. Then he remembered something. You said this wasn't the first time you gave a statement. You also seemed hesitant to follow him towards the interrogation rooms. Something happened to you, and he hoped one day you would trust him enough to tell him because he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and keep you safe. To prove to you that there was nothing to fear, that he would treat you right and take care of you. If only you'd let him, he would give you everything.

Even Sarah liked you. How could she not?

That night after you had pizza with them, she teased him in the car on the way home. She could see it within minutes, why couldn't you? He barely even put up a fight when Sarah brought up his obvious infatuation. What was the point? He was grateful to know that his daughter approved of him dating, he couldn't deny that. Not that he hasn't seen any women since his ex left, but it was always casual. Always secretive, until the flame burnt out and the excitement was gone and he was left all alone again.

It wasn't lost on him that women around town looked at him a certain way, but he never gave it much thought. None of them interested him. Not until you.

He thought about you, running your little errands and then getting ready for work. He looked at his shared calendar with Sarah: she had a sleepover tonight after soccer practice. Maybe he would swing by the diner. He could stay in the parking lot, just to make sure you were okay.

"I'm glad we didn't scare you off, darlin'," Tommy said after the dinner rush died down and he emerged from the kitchen, wiping sweat from his forehead and smelling like french fries.

You gave him a smile and waved him off.

"It would take a lot more than that to scare me off," you said with a laugh as you refilled the sugar caddies at the counter.

"Damn, I don't think I want to find out what that is," he said, grinning as Maria approached him with a kiss.

"Busy night," Maria told him, rubbing the palm of her hand over his back soothingly. You glanced back down at the sugar, ignoring the pang in your chest from watching their open affection for one another.

"Yeah, middle of the week, too. Must be the rain that drove everyone inside," he said, peering out the window at the sheets of rain that fell. His eyes paused on something outside and he squinted before you drew his attention back.

"I'm glad it was, it made the night go by fast," you replied, moving on from the sugar to the condiment bottles, wiping them down and refilling them as you went.

"Why don't you finish up and head out," he told you, nodding towards the door. You glanced up and agreed, regretting not bringing an umbrella but maybe if you timed it right, you could leave when there was a lull in the weather.

It was nearly ten by the time you walked out, the door locking behind you. The rain was still coming down, but you hoped the hoodie you brought with you would be enough to shield you as you hurried down the sidewalk.

It was dark out and the streets were quiet as you walked hunched over, your sneakers getting soaked from walking through the puddles. The rain was too loud and your hood covered your ears, so you didn't hear him when he approached you from behind, his own shoes splashing in the water as he jogged to catch up.

"Hey," he panted, and you yelped, jumping backwards as your heart raced in your chest.

"Jesus, Joel. You scared me!" you said with a frown, your hand resting against your heart.

"Sorry," he said with a smirk, then moved closer, just inches away from your own body. You could feel the warmth rolling off him and you could smell the shampoo from his hair, he was that close. You froze, not sure what was happening until you realized the rain was no longer pummeling your head. Glancing up, you noticed he held an umbrella over you.

"Oh," you breathed, then looked at him again. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he mumbled, his unwavering gaze burning a hole in you. Finally, you tore your eyes away and the two of you quickly walked the rest of the way to your apartment, his arm occasionally brushing up against your own, and you resisted the urge to flinch.

You fumbled nervously with your keys as he held the umbrella over you, sacrificing himself to the weather so you had enough room to maneuver the door open. You slipped inside and he moved the umbrella back over himself.

"See you tomorrow?" he asked, and you furrowed your brow, looking up at the sky.

"Do you want to come in and wait this out? Or I could drive you back -"

"Yes," he said, cutting you off and eagerly stepping forward. You held the door open as he collapsed the umbrella, giving it a few shakes and leaving it angled against the door before following you up the steps.

He shut the second door behind him, glancing around at your meager apartment as you flitted around turning on lights and closing the shades. You turned back to look at him, standing stock still in your doorway, unsure what to do with himself. You yanked your wet hoodie off over your head, your shirt riding up just a little bit and exposing your stomach for a moment, and Joel felt a stirring below his waist. He had to force himself to look away until you managed to fix your shirt, the desire coursing through his veins becoming too overwhelming.

"Let me get you a towel," you said, noticing how drenched his hair looked for the first time. He was grateful for the extra moment to collect himself as you slipped into the bathroom and grabbed two bath towels, drying your own hair as you handed him his. He thanked you and slid his shoes off while he dried his dark curls, then wiped his face and neck. You forced yourself to look away from the droplets of water trickling enticingly slow down his throat and underneath the collar of his nearly soaked T-shirt.

"Coffee?" you asked, and he chuckled at the familiar question.

"Sure," he said, taking a couple steps forward and leaning against the doorway of your little kitchen, watching as you scooped the grounds into the coffee maker next to your stove.

"How's that faucet treatin' you?"

"Good," you said with a nod, then pressed the brew button and turned to face him. "Are you a handyman on the side or something?"

"I guess I'm just a man of many talents," he said with a wink, and you felt the heat creeping up your neck. To distract yourself, you turned and walked toward the window, peeking out through the curtains as the rain pummeled down on the street below.

"It's still really coming down out there," you said, turning back around. You gasped, not realizing he had followed you over and he was standing right behind you, looking out the window as well before his gaze fell to you. You looked at each other for a moment, both waiting for the other to do something, say something, anything to acknowledge the tension in the room.

"Were you following me?" you asked quietly, and he blinked.

"Following you? No," he said, shaking his head. But he shifted his gaze away guiltily. "I was comin' back from droppin' Sarah off at practice and happened to drive by the diner, so I stopped..."

"At ten o'clock at night?" you asked. He let a huff of laughter escape his lips.

"Might've hung out in the parking lot for a bit."

"Why?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek, still not able to meet your eye.

"You seemed shook up earlier. Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he finally said.

He spent his evening in the parking lot just to keep an eye on the place? What did that mean? You swallowed and asked another question.

"Doing some overtime, then?" you all but whispered. He took a deep breath in through his nose and finally looked at you.

"No."

His eyes flicked down to your lips and you thought you were going to pass out with how fast your blood was pumping through your veins.

The beep from the coffee pot startled you both out of your trance. You blinked and shifted around him, pulling two mugs down off the shelf. Somehow, you managed to pour the liquid without burning yourself, your shaky hands betraying you as you held his cup out to him.

"Do you mind if I go change?" you asked him, and he looked up at you over his mug, surprised.

"'Course not," he said, glancing down at your damp work uniform. His eyes trailed after you as you disappeared into your bedroom and shut the door. He knew he shouldn't be there. He knew he was overwhelming you, but he just couldn't stay away. He knew if he was at home, all alone, he would just be laying on the couch half listening to some talk show and wondering what you were doing. And he really liked being able to know instead of just wonder.

You came back out of your bedroom a minute later dressed in soft pajama pants and a sleep shirt. It wasn't anything special, but he felt himself react anyway. It was intimate, being able to see what you slept in, and it excited him.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything..." you trailed off, pointing to his now half dry T-shirt, and he smirked. He couldn't stop what he said next.

"I'm glad you don't have any men's clothes lyin' around."

I'm glad you're not dating anyone. I'm glad you aren't sleeping with anyone. Because I want it to be me.

You cleared your throat nervously and looked around, your eyes falling on the TV.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something? 'Til the rain stops?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod. He sat down slowly at the end of the couch, watching as you fished around the coffee table for the remote and turned it on, then tucked your legs underneath you as you sat down on the other end of the couch. It wasn't a big piece of furniture, but you still managed to put as much space as possible between you two. You flicked around the channels, pausing when you found a familiar movie and you turned to check with him, only to find he had been looking at you the whole time.

"Is this okay?"

"Sure," he said, not even sparing a glance at the TV. You felt your face flush and you bit your lip, trying to breathe through your nerves as you turned back to watch some actors you couldn't quite name.

"I'm sorry I don't have anything stronger," you said, nodding to his coffee. "I'm not much of a drinker."

"That's okay, I'm not either," he said, settling back into the couch as he finally tore his gaze away from you to look at the screen.

It was a relief to hear him say that. You had spent so much time around men who drank that it turned you off from the whole idea most of the time. You opened your mouth to tell him that, but quickly snapped it shut. That would inevitably cause him to ask more questions, and you weren't ready to open that door.

The rain kept up most of the night, but you weren't sure when it stopped because even though you had drank most of your coffee, you fell asleep. You had intended on resting your head on the back of the couch and closing your eyes for just a moment, but the stress from the whole day combined with not sleeping well the night before caught up with you.

Of course, Joel noticed. He watched with a small smile as your body slowly relaxed into the couch, then your lips parted just a little bit and your breathing deepened. He probably should have woken you up, helped you to bed, then left. But he was a selfish man, and instead watched you sleep until your body began to slump closer to him. His breath caught in his throat and his body stiffened as you unconsciously leaned against him, your soft cheek coming to rest against his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to slow his racing heart.

Fuck, you were just too pretty and sweet, and he couldn't help himself. He was just a man. He was selfish. He was weak. And he didn't care.

Slowly, he inched his way down until he was lying flat on the couch, your body sliding down with him. Your head was pressed against his shoulder, your leg draped over his own and he felt your warm exhale through the thin fabric of his shirt. He swore he would only stay like that for a little while but it was too intoxicating. Before he knew it, his body was quickly lulled to sleep, with his nose buried in your hair and his arms wrapped around your body, holding you close.

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