#like make him a little dumb like he canonically is whatever. but he’s not that much of a fucking idiot

[edgelordtozier]

the steddie fics where steve is embarrassingly air-headed and has no clue what bisexuality is even though his best friend is a lesbian are so funny to me (in a bad way). it’s like what’s another way that we can mercilessly infantilize him and make eddie munson (pathetic clueless loser) guide him and navigate the relationship as if steve hasn’t been in many relationships himself?

[that-fic-girl]

HAZBIN HOTEL X READER HC #1

Head canon: what it would be like to date them.

characters: Alastor, angel dust, husk, vox

disclaimer: everything i write about these characters might not be accurate to the actual story, please take everything in the fic with a grain of salt, none of this is canon!!

Alastor

he hasnt been in an actual relationship in a while so being close and vulnerable with someone is quite hard for him, especially as someone who associates emotions with weakness.

First off, its safe to say he adores the ground you walk on. He's in love with everything about you, your clothes, the smell of your hair, your sickly sweet voice. his loves it all.

If there was ever a problem you needed fixing, a person you needed taken care of or even a errand you needed to run he would tend to it himself. he would not let you lift a finger.

PDA is a iffy thing for him, he wouldnt do grand big gestures but maybe a hand on the hip or a few words of affirmation.

everyone in the pride ring quickly learned of yours and radio demon's relationship. And no one dared to mess with you, ofcourse there was people who wanted to test their luck but they would have to pay the price later.

his love language is definitely words of affirmation, he will sweet talk the shit out of you. At night when it's just you two in bed, he will have his hands stroking through your hair whilst you rant to him about your day and he'll reply with sweet nothings

"oh darling, i've missed you all evening"

"you looked ravishing today my dear.."

"mm your hair smells amazing, my love"

Angel Dust

Angel is one of, if not, the horniest mother fuckers out there but somehow, he manages to somewhat make a healthy relationship with someone.

you two are seen as "the bad bitch" couple. you're always out together, always getting into dumb shit together. You'll get yelled at by vaggie at early hours in the morning because the two of you where playing a childish game of tag in the hotel halls.

his love language is definitely physical touch, he'll have his arms slung around your waist almost all the time. Kisses are a MUST every 5 minutes, like this boy will NOT part from you. especially in the mornings when you have to leave for work;

"mmnnnnoooooooo...stayyy for five minutes pleasseeeee"

"but sweets..you're soooo warm"

"sweetheart please, you feel so comfy"

yeah good luck with that.

nights with him are VERY eventful, if it wasn't obvious. You two would usually be at it late hours into the night but sometimes, when you two where too exhausted to fuck like rabbits, he would be sprawled across your lap whilst you stroked his fur.

Husk

Despite his harsh tone and uncompromising demeanor, you understood that Husk wasn't trying to be malicious towards you. It was simply his way of communicating, and you knew that his behavior wasn't personal. Even though he could be abrasive at times, you loved him for his rough edges and authentic personality

You and Husk's time together was mostly spent at the bar. You didn't like to drink much, but you loved seeing him work and make cocktails like a pro. You didn't mind that it wasn't considered a typical date, because you liked spending time with him in whatever way he felt most comfortable.

Husk is not used to receiving compliments, as he didn't often receive them in his past life. When you complimented him, it caught him off guard and he was surprised. But he eventually learned to appreciate it, and it even made him feel a little sentimental.

Despite the difficulty, you were able to help Husk realize that you genuinely cared about him. He had been used to being surrounded by dishonesty and hypocrisy, but you were always sincere and real. He held you in high regard, as you were the only source of light in his life, and he didn't want to lose you.

vox

You were known as a strong and independent person who didn't need assistance from others. You knew how to stand up for yourself, despite being harsh and tough at times. Despite your exterior, no one was aware of the soft spot in your heart that Vox's affection and touch alone could melt away your severity.

He appreciated seeing your affectionate side, as it felt special and intimate, like a shared secret between the two of you. He knew you valued your privacy, and he respected it by never sharing photos or other details on social media. He didn't want to betray your trust.

You were often feared and respected when you were with Vox. People found it hard to believe that someone as intimidating as yourself could have a tender, caring side that was kept hidden from most. Vox was glad that he was the only one who got to see that side of you. He didn't want to share something so special and personal with anyone else.

Quite often, he would call you on the phone, knowing that sweet words could be just as effective as a kiss. He enjoyed hearing how your voice softened from its usual seriousness to a more affectionate tone. He was aware that when he said loving phrases to you, you would blush and smile shyly, and sometimes he even regretted not being able to witness it in person.

"i've missed you today babe.."

"mhm look at my pretty girl/boy!"

[breadbrobin]

fate

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

[part 2 to the trees]

summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.

warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway

word count: 3.2k

(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)

(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)

———————————————

the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.

this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.

ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.

curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.

you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.

your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.

why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.

stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.

“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.

“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”

“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.

“y/n, wait up!”

you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.

“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.

“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.

you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”

your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.

“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”

clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”

that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.

she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.

“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.

your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“

“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”

you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.

“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”

“uh…”

“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”

“she’s nice to me,” you protested.

“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”

did you? you didn’t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”

he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”

you nodded absently. “maybe.”

“great, it’s a date!”

you frowned. “it’s a what?”

he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.

when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.

“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”

“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”

your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”

she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.

you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.

“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.

“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.

she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”

you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”

she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.

“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.

“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

well, that hurt.

“yeah, we’re just—“

“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”

your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”

“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.

“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.

she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.

then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.

“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”

you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”

you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.

her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.

you stepped back and turned, marching away.

“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”

“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.

you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.

it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?

or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.

whatever it was, it put you on edge.

there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.

you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.

your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?

you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.

the future was not looking promising.

there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.

you turned around.

the bushes were rustling.

you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.

mandibles.

two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.

there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.

“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”

you turned and ran.

the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.

where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.

then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.

“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.

you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.

it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.

you were beginning to lose hope.

honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.

just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.

it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.

as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.

“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.

“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.

just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.

she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.

“i dropped my—“

“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.

the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.

you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.

“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.

“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.

“you could have died!”

“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”

finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.

you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.

you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.

once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.

you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.

“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.

“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.

“everyone knows they’re there.”

“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”

“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.

“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”

“i don’t need your defending.”

“and i don’t need your help!”

“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.

“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.

she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“

“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.

“what?”

“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”

there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.

she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”

“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”

“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”

“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.

“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.

“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”

“and i didn’t want to help you!”

“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”

she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”

the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer.

it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.

so you did.

she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.

when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.

she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.

“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”

clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”

“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”

“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”

“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”

“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.

“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”

she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”

you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.

fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.

and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?

[sim0nril3y]

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon hasn't been able to stop thinking about your relationship and how not making a commitment to you might lead you to running off with someone else. He needs to solve this.

Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), suggestive thoughts, canon-typical swearing.

It was strange to Simon that the two of you had settled into routine together. Most nights he’d pick you up after finishing work, he’d bring you back to his home or drop you off at your flat. More often than not Simon would cook you some good food to fill up your empty tummy, then roll around in the sheets together. The next morning you’d wake up beside him and he’d set to making you a hearty breakfast and discuss plans for the days. Those plans typically of doing exactly what you’d done the day before, spending time together and… though he’d never say it aloud Simon enjoyed it, he looked forward to it.

There was the times when Simon was left feeling lonely because you weren’t around. It was when he wouldn’t see you from one day to the next because you were busy working on an art project or work had left you exhausted. Simon was a solitary person, not needing or even wanting other people around him, or… at least that was how he’d felt before meeting you.

So, what was this? A question that Simon had never asked himself before, but now it was burning inside of him. Never before had Simon desired clarification, but as it currently stood you were just two people living independent lives that slept with each other and spent time together. That left opportunity for you to find someone else and bring them into your life. He hoped that wasn’t the case, it certainly wasn’t something you’d mentioned before but it still left that door open for someone to take you from him.

The thought of losing you filled him with utter dread. How was he supposed to sleep at night with your body to curl around? He’d started buying extra food when doing his weekly shop, who was going to help him eat it all? Plus, all your favourite snacks were filling the cupboards, if you weren’t here then they’d just go to waste… Besides, there wasn’t another living soul out there that would be able to make you fall apart as quick as he could.

Bloody hell. He was in deep here.

That night after a long shift at work you were curled up beside him on the sofa, blanket draped over your legs, snacks between your lounging bodies and eyes fixed on whatever dumb show you’d thrown on the TV. You hadn’t seemed to notice that from beside you Simone was stewing silently, mind racing with how to broach the subject in the most subtle way.

These questions and that anxiety was beginning to build up inside of Simon, his knee was bobbing relentlessly, muscles wound tight, fingers tapping furiously against the arm of the sofa like a metronome. How was he going to do this? How was he going to ask for clarification on what you were to each other? What did he actually hope the answer was going to be? He wanted you, right? Only you. He didn’t want another living soul to have you… fuck, the thought of someone else having their hands and their lips on you. It made him seethe.

“What are we?” The question tumbled from his lips, short and frustrated. It caused you to look up at him, brows furrowed. “Sorry?” “You… do you ever do this with anyone else?” He looked down at you through intense dark eyes. “Do I… watch TV with other people?” You questioned, almost not following his line of questions.

Further frustrated Simon bit out. “Do you fuck anyone else?” That made you begin to fight a little smile, finally figure out what he was trying to ask. “And the rest of it… everything we do together… like going for walks, or to dinner… or just watching TV like this…” He gestured to the way you were lounging so comfortably behind him, sans any make-up and looking so relaxed. “Do you?” Simon asked, you simply smirked as you flitted you gaze back towards the TV and muttered easily. “Would it bother you if I did?”

This question only made him stew and simmer again at the thought of someone else being in your life like this. The thought of them kidding and making you fall apart only mad his anger bubble further. “Mm.” He grumbled out, keep his dangerous eyes locked on you.

Reaching across to rest a delicate hand on his tattooed forearm you mentioned softly. “I don’t do this with anyone else, Si.” You informed him, watching the tension leaving him body in that moment. “Only you.” You quip with a little shrug of your shoulders, before continuing. “If I’m not here with you then I’m at work and I’m wishing that I was here with you or counting down the minutes until I’m going to see you again or wildly ignoring all of tasks and remembering all my time with you.” There was vulnerability to your tone as you informed him that. “Then I see you and I’m happy in all those hours before I’m back to being on my own and wishing it’ll happen all over again.”

You were in deep too. With the way that Simon was looking at you, you could have been convinced that there wasn’t anyone else in the world. “Simon, are you trying to ask me something?” Reaching up you brushed your fingers against his face delicately before following with a gentle few kisses against his cheeks and temples and jawline. Every action made forced his body to relax, coaxing his anxiety away before finally the words came. “What if… we did do this everyday? Just… us two…”

You gnawed your lower lip. “I could get behind that.” You agreed with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. “So… if we did do this… what would I call you?” You quirked a brow at him. “My boyfriend?” Simon grimaced. “Love, I’m not a boy.” He muttered, snatching some of your snacks and beginning to munch away. “How about my lover?” You purred playfully and once again Simon groan and threw you a look. “So… just my Simon?” You raised your brows at him, this time he didn’t seem to fight your suggestion, simply smirked.

“Mm…” Then he nodded, much to your surprise. “And you’d be mine.” It was like your heart exploded in your chest, smiling at him and trying not to act overly excited and frighten him off. “I guess I would be~” Then leaning forward you kissed a couple sweet kisses. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Not moving too fast?” You ask, concerned that Simon might change his mind all of a sudden and end up hurting you both. “M’sure, babe.” He responded, pressing a sweet kiss to your nose. "You're mine."

Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2024

[glossgojo]

hold me across every state line

joel miller x reader | 3.7k words

part 2 here

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (obviously let’s be real), AFAB reader, fingering, slight pervy joel, pet names, multiple orgasms, choking, oral fem receiving, lingerie, porn with some plot, non-canon compliant, joel has feelings <3

you had been traveling with joel and ellie ever since philadelphia and as hard as you and joel had tried to ignore whatever was going on between you two, he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on you. you all arrive at jackson and feel like you can relax for a bit. it all comes to a head when you were changing and he caught a glimpse of fucking lingerie. joel miller feels like a teenage boy all over again just because of you.

a/n: def gotta a lil carried away, what can i say joel miller makes me FERAL. also beta version sorry i wrote this in a daze

it had been a month since you joined joel and ellie, you had grown fond of them both. your younger sister was ellie’s age before you lost her a couple years after the outbreak, it felt healing talking to her. ellie, in a lot of ways, was similar to you. unfortunately for joel that meant a lot more worrying than he admitted to. although he’d never admit it, he was quite fond of you and you were downright gone for the older man. it wasn’t like you had been single since the outbreak or before, but something about joel made your heart beat faster than ever and brought a smile to your face just from a mere thought about the grumpy man.

but you never labeled your feelings and neither did he, you both operated under a need to keep each other and ellie safe and that was it. ellie wasn’t dumb, she could see what was happening between you two. she also knew it was only a matter of time before you both gave in to whatever you were feeling. for now you three just acted out of survival instinct and that was enough. weeks morphed into months and winter was cruel to you three. you spent nights in joel’s arms, you both attributed it to feeling safer that way and for warmth of course. you never missed how sometimes you could feel his heart against your back, beating just as fast as your own. or when you would wake up before him and the sun shone down on his face, his expression would be relaxed and you could dream for a while about him looking at you like that. you hoped one day joel would let the pain he carried on his shoulders be lifted by ellie or even you.

when you all made it to jackson and joel reunited with his brother you felt like you could finally breathe again. although your body was always primed to fight and run, you couldn’t help but relax as maria treated you like a friend. she was kinder than anyone you had met since the outbreak, it all felt too good to be true. your suspicions were shared with joel and ellie. the three couldn’t relax even in the small condo tommy had given to you. maria had whisked ellie away to socialize with the other kids, saying how it would be good for her and far be it from you and joel to argue with her about it.

that left you and joel in a warm house with power and gas, feeling very out of place. the house had two rooms with two en-suite bathrooms, so naturally you and joel decided to share. joel was lying down on the bed, not fully asleep as he stared up at the ceiling planning the next steps in head. he had showered and changed into the clothes maria had dropped off, feeling like a new man. his mind raced at the possibilities of how to get ellie to the fireflies. you had spoke earlier about staying a little bit longer and collecting more information before setting out. he had disagreed, wanting to leave as soon as possible but you convinced him to stay, it would be better for ellie and especially him to spend more time with his brother and others. you also didn’t mind how relaxed joel looked when he was with his brother.

you were just getting out of the shower as you reached for a towel, drying off as you looked at the underwear maria had given you. you had blushed when you first saw it, clearly she thought you and joel were much more than friends after just a few minutes of interacting with her. you weren’t really sure why you decided to wear the lacy black panties and matching bra instead of the more sensible set, but maybe it was something about how maria had raised her eyebrow when you tried giving back the lingerie. you insisted it was nothing like that, but she had simply said, “are you sure because i think everyone else is?” instead of answering her you just snatched the clothes out of her hands and stalked back to the condo. you thought back about how you and joel interacted in front of her when you met.

“joel, say congrats.” ellie nudged joel in the elbow as you sat on the other side of him, making him move into your side slightly. joel looked to for you some sort of permission, you just nodded with a comforting smile on your face. you wanted him to know it was okay to be happy for his brother, that his brother still loved him and that his new life could have his big brother in it. joel’s hand that had been on your leg the entire dinner, squeezed your thigh in gratitude and as always you tried to swallow down the desire it shot through you. maybe you weren’t as successful as you thought in hiding the blush to you face, maybe maria had caught onto where his hand was and the reason behind your tinted cheeks.

you sighed and tried to shove the thoughts out of your mind, as you slightly opened the bathroom door and peeked through to see joel lying down with his eyes closed, a hand resting on his forehead, further obstructing his view. you took the chance to tiptoe to the closet and pick out some clothes to change into. unbeknownst to you joel had cracked his eyes upon the small creak of the floorboard and felt the air leaving his lungs at the sight of you.

joel had seen your body before, when rain made clothes cling to your skin or when you dipped into a clean river. but nothing compared to seeing your bare skin adorned in lacy black lingerie, a suggestion of fabric covered your ass and your breasts were pushed up as if to further torture him. joel felt all of his blood rush south and his heart beat pick up, he hated himself for silently peaking at you but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. he thought he was going a little bit insane when he watched you pull up a pair of jeans over your curves, jumping a little as they hugged your ass. his pants grew tight, his erection straining against the denim.

joel was on the precipice of losing his mind as you wrapped your arms around your chest and hugged yourself, your boobs pushing up and threatening his mental stability. joel had had enough at this point, his dick hard and heavy in his pants, aching to be touched. he sat up, making you flinch and wrap your arms around yourself tighter, not helping him much as you turned towards.

“how long does it take to choose a shirt sweetheart? do you need my help?” his voice was gruff and deep, you shivered at his tone noticing a clip to his voice. your heartbeat picked up as you raked over his expression, he looked more frustrated than anything else. and you didn’t miss how his eyes flicked between your chest and your eyes. it was now or never. you knew looking into brown eyes they were darkened by something you would see in your own.

“can you help me, please?” joel raised an eyebrow at your tone, like you were sure of yourself but still needed him. if joel were more confident in himself he would know that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you but he knew you could do better. you could definitely find someone younger and more suited for you. despite the rational part of his brain that knew better, he got off the bed and walked towards you. he didn’t stop until his chest was almost brushing against yours and he was towering over you. there was a slight flush to your lips and your breathing was fast enough to draw his attention to the rise and fall of your chest. he still let himself read into it, didn’t let himself dwell on the glossy look in your eyes or the way your lips were parted as if to take him in.

looking away from your gaze for a moment, joel pulled out a plain red t-shirt from the closet, meeting your gaze once again. you didn’t move to take it from his hands, just watched him expectantly and joel almost snapped the hanger in half from the hold he had on it. you wanted him to dress you. joel wasn’t sure if you were doing this to torture him or not but he sure as hell felt more desperate than he ever had. the last time he was this painfully hard from barely any stimulation was probably high school. he took your challenge instead, pulling the shirt off the hanger and flinging it to the side, he gently pulled the opening over your head, motioning for your hands to uncross and you followed quietly. you were practically drowning in the sensuality of being controlled by joel, exactly how you wanted. you had soaked through the thin fabric of your underwear as you gasped at the feeling of joel’s warm calloused hands against the soft skin of your arms. he pulled the shirt over your chest and you watched his darkened eyes travel over your body, his jaw clenching as he took in your curves.

“thank you.” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the air around you both. joel looked you up and down, as if assessing his work. he licked his lips as he remembered the sight from earlier, he felt himself leaking into his boxers, even more turned on from your small gasps and glazed eyes. you looked like a doe awaiting his shot, it drove him a little bit crazier. as much as you wanted to sink to you knees and take him into your mouth you wanted him to make the first move, wanted him to be as sure as you were that this wasn’t just one-sided. joel took one last look at your blown out pupils and glossy lips and decided that enough was enough, he had to make a decision right now.

“not sure about those pants though, doll.” your eyebrows knitted up from confusion, you looked down at them and back up at him. joel was endeared by the naivety in your expression, making good use of your confusion by looping a finger through the belt notch of your jeans and tugging you closer.

“i’d rather they were off.” he could see the words click in your pretty little head as the confusion was replaced by the desire he knew so well. you didn’t look away from his hungry gaze as you fumbled to undo the brass button of your pants. joel’s finger that was still curled into the notch, moved to cover your hand.

“let me, pretty girl.” you had to hold back a whine from his words, his gruff voice coupled with the pet name was grating against your sensibility, your underwear a complete mess from his words and presence alone. you were sure you would unravel if he touched you where you really needed him. joel undid your buckle with two fingers and pulled your pants down in one swift movement, causing you to yelp. he didn’t move as he watched you shiver from desire, he could almost laugh at how desperate you were. had you always been so gone for him? it wasn’t like he was much better though.

“j-joel please.” you choked out, you would do anything for him to touch you. you were on the verge of crying as he grinned at the pout on your lips.

“please what?” he stepped back, making a whine claw up your throat, you stepped towards without thinking.

“i need you.” joel nodded at the words, it wasn’t news to anyone, he needed you just as badly.

“come here.” joel moved to the bed, you followed obediently. when you sat down at the edge of the bed he pulled you by the hips, roughly moving you to lie down with your head on the pillows. he shifted himself to sit in front of your legs and your eyes widened as you realized what was about to happen. his rough large hands kneaded the soft flesh of your thighs, he took in the sight of your bare thighs and pretty cunt covered in lacy black material.

“did you wear these for me?” his hands were traveling up, parting your legs as they moved inwards. you loaned, back arching as you felt callouses rub your sensitive inner thighs. joel moved to sit down more comfortably, letting his thick thighs stretch you even more. he kept his hand on your left thigh, keeping you stretched wide. his other hand moved closer to your core, stopping when you didn’t answer his question.

“yes only for you.” you whined out, you had never sounded more desperate and foreign to yourself but you didn’t care you were completely lost to your desire. joel liked your answer, letting his hand tease the edge of your underwear, you twitched from his touch. he couldn’t help but scoff at how sensitive you were. he ripped a cry of his name from you when he pushed the fabric aside revealing glistening folds and a pool of liquid. he swore under his breath, wondering just how long you had been soaking through your underwear, sure enough he felt the fabric wet from your juices. joel wanted to deal this memory away, he knew he’d remember it any time his cock was in his hand. you squirmed from his gaze, whining for him to touch you, to do anything. joel snapped the band of your underwear against your skin, making you shut up.

“so fucking wet, is that all for me too?” joel didn’t think he could survive much longer without tasting you, moving to lay down between your thighs, you noticed immediately and it made you breath a little more rapidly.

“you drive me crazy joel, it’s always because of you, i’m yours.” you sat up on your elbows, looking at how his face was now hovering your hips. your words itched the part of joel’s brain that wanted you to be all his. he wasn’t proud of it but he wanted you to be his forever. without much warning, joel weaved his arms under your thighs and pulled you forwards, your cunt colliding with his nose. the small friction of his large nose against your clit made you moan out his name again. joel thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, he loved how his name sounded coming out of your mouth. he wanted you to own it, wanted his name to be yours, he felt more possessive of you than ever. he rubbed his nose against your clit, breathing in the sweet smell of you, his lips and nose getting a bit wet just from your underwear. he kissed your cunt, ripping a strangled noise from your throat and he decided he wanted much more of those sounds as he pulled your underwear down, finally letting himself give in to his need to taste you. you were practically screaming his name as the cool air hit your clit.

joel didn’t waste time in spreading your legs wider and making them ache from the stretch, pulling your ass slightly into the air as he planted his lips right onto your core. his tongue licked one stripe from your clit down to where your arousal pooled. you tasted like peaches and heaven, and joel pulled you impossibly closer, he could barely breathe through his nose but it didn’t matter not when you tasted like everything he’d ever wanted and your ichor was painted on the back of his teeth. as much as he drank you in, the more you bloomed for him. you were squirming and screaming his name, begging for him to stop or keep going you weren’t sure. you could only think of his name, only feel him and only breathe him. his mustache and beard grated against your most sensitive parts, making you clench around him. joel’s tongue was inside you drinking you in like you were water and he was stuck in the desert for days. the sounds his mouth produced were obscene and they did nothing but drive you closer to your orgasm. you were rocking on his tongue, never having felt this good before. as you got closer, joel pulled out, his tongue still on your hole as his nose ground your clit. you cried at the feeling, fingers interweaving with his hair and tugging him against you. joel got the idea and brought his hand up to tease your clit as he went back to feasting on you. you felt yourself grow close, pulling his face against you, as you whined out his name. you came undone on his tongue, twitching into his mouth and joel drank in the wave of arousal it produced, never being satiated enough. finally when you were too sensitive for his tongue you tugged on his hair. joel removed his mouth with a pop and a string of your cum and his saliva connected him to you. his beard and mustache were glistening with your ichor and you felt arousal wash over you all over again, you still wanted to taste him, wanted his lips against yours and so you wove your hands around his neck and sat up to meet him halfway. joel climbed up, you wove your legs around his hips. joel’s lips were rough against you, but they tasted like you and you moaned into his lips. joel kissed you fervently as if he had not just tasted you, like it wasn’t enough and his facial hair rubbed against your skin. your cum was coating both of your faces by the time you pulled back for air. joel put more of his weight against you and you felt his clothed hard on press against your core, making you whine and grab at his shirt to pull him closer. “joel please, want you inside.”

just from what you felt pressed against you, you knew he was big and you salivated at the feeling. you were getting wet just thinking about having him inside you. joel watched your fucked out expression and puffy lips and decided against his urge to fuck you even dumber. he told himself he had time, you weren’t like the others, this was different you wouldn’t just disappear.

“next time, doll, can you come for me again?” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes as desire mixed with your need to be close to him. joel moved off of you, drawing a whimper from you, he interwove his fingers with yours, calming your nerves and you sighed contently. joel didn’t know how you could be so damn endearing and seductive at the same time. with his free hand he pushed you up the bed by your hip, until you were sitting up with your back against the bed-frame. he found his home between your legs, spreading one with his hand the other still holding yours. he used his knee to press against the inner flesh of your thigh, pinning it there and stretching you wide open. you whined at the feeling, although he was the one between your thighs you felt caged in. he was towering over your frame as your back pressed against the cold metal frame. finally when the whine left your mouth, he let go of your hand moving it south as he looked you in the eyes. his hand teased the seam of your cunt, he chuckled at the feeling of you so wet all over again. there was a bead of arousal at your opening, ready for him to please you all over again. he couldn’t get enough of you. without any warning he pressed two fingers into you, plunging them deep and feeling you clench around them. Your breath came out in a huff as you looked up to him with desperation in his eyes. joel curled his fingers facing his palm upwards as he felt for the spot that made you unravel and when he did you struggled against his grasp and pushed against his knee to close on his hands. you gasped out his name and joel laughed at the tears forming in your eyes. he plunged into your soaking cunt again and again. setting a brutal pace and just when you felt close enough he slowed down, he shut up your babbling with a harsh kiss to your mouth. it was teeth and tongues clashing against each other, but the desire and desperation you felt was reciprocated in the way he kissed you. you kissed until your lungs screamed for air and when you were about to pull away, joel plunged three fingers into, you gasped into his mouth. pulling away as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and joel littered your neck with kisses and bites. he marked you as he wanted, made sure everyone knew who you belonged to. you were gushing around his fingers, he added a fourth finger and you screamed his name. if the blooming marks on your neck weren’t enough, the whole community would hear your screams. you started begging when he abused the spot that made your mind go blank, all you could feel was intense burning desire and all you could say was “please joel.” like it was a prayer.

your prayers were answered when his thumb ground against your clit and you came on his hand. you slumped forward, joel catching you as he moved his hand from your thigh and brought his soaked fingers up to his mouth. he wanted to memorize your taste, licking his fingers clean before pressing a kiss to your lips. you let him kiss you, you were spent now and your mind numb from pleasure. joel helped you lay down and cleaned you up as much as he could, he put your underwear in his pocket, he had to deal with his hard-on after you fell asleep. joel combed his fingers through your hair, as you relaxed into the bed. you fell asleep breathing in the scent of his shampoo on the pillow-sheet and the feeling on his fingertips scraping your scalp.

[psychwxrdd]

drug dealer! soft! rafe being a love sick puppy

🎀 author's note: buzzcut rafe is my favorite rafe omg 😫 yk that one song "i'm a gangster's wife to an anybody killer" i had that lyrics on my head all day and it got me inspired lol and as much as i love dark/horror themes i love soooo much soft and sweet! rafe. yeah a canon of him being a drug dealer but he still is my little princess

(not mine gif)

also besties send me requests! i'm in the mood to write today

warnings: fluff, sexual mentions in the end but no actual smut

drug dealer! rafe instantly became infatued with you, the second he first saw you. he just knew he had to have you (please i can't help but imagine him staring like that one crazy stare he does in s2 when he's with barry and hears kiara in the drain lol)

drug dealer! rafe absolutely fucking worships you. like i MEAN it. he's selling his thing and worried about his busy and can't stop thinking about you, constantly texting you under the table. he has sooooo many pictures of you, not just on his phone but in his wallet as well, it's almost compulsive: he wants needs to stare at it all the time, and everyone always mocks him for this. he doesn't care about how crazy or corny they think he is or shit, thats his girl, the love of his life, his future wife and mother of his children. he would go to hell for you.

drug dealer! rafe who spoils the shit out you, if you said you wanted a big house like this or that, in color x or y, he would buy it entirely for you, the exact way you wanted. needless to say, he would buy anything you saw in a store that had your eyes shining, no matter what it is, if it would make you happy he wouldn't think twice. also, he is obsessed with the cute things you like 🥺 like imagine him buying a sylvanian family for you, or those sanrio plushies.

drug dealer! rafe who has you on his lap at any single party him and barry goes to, he doesn't let go of you for nothing. one say overprotective other say clingy, whatever it is, he always wants you on his arms. need to go to bathroom? he is waiting on the door. need a drink? he tells barry to got get it for you both (LMAO). you're tired or sleepy? he carries you around like a bride.

drug! dealer rafe taking you home and can't stop smiling staring at you sleeping, admiring your beauty and feeling his heart race from how much he loves you, how happy it feels to have you. he puts a song you like on the radio even tho it wasn't his taste or you weren't awake to hear it. you'd wake up and he'd be caressing your hair, the minute he he saw your eyes opening he said "shh, go back to sleep princess, it's late" and you were too sleepy to answer anything. he caressed your forehead, cheeks, nose, ears. he loved to put his fingers on your dots too, you had some small ones you didn't even noticed you have, but he did.

drug dealer! rafe already has a ring on his pocket just waiting for the perfect moment to ask you to marry him. you're the only person who ever gets to see this side of him, so he would probably get emotional while doing it.

drug dealer! rafe who have a MASSIVE breeding kink, but mostly because he really dreamed of having a family with you. not just because it felt good to cum inside you and it was hot, but because he really felt something he couldn't describe at the thought of you also wanting him to be the dad of your children, to have a family with him. it made his heart euphoric, it got him acting dumb. it meant you also wanted to spend your life with him, that was his biggest turned on.

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Hazbin Hotel Characters React to You Asking for a Hug (PART 1)

Y’all already KNEW this was coming

Charlie

“Oh my goodness, of course you can have a hug!!!”

So excited omg

Her love language is physical touch, she told me herself

Her hugs are Aggressive

Like, the whole tackles you the ground if you’re not careful

Bone crushing hugs

Hugging Charlie is cheaper than chiro, and works just as well 🤷‍♀️

She is So Here for asking for what you need though

So proud of you, even if this is completely normal for you

Vaggie

“I mean, fine, but does it have to be me?”

Will begrudgingly hug you

Tries her hardest to hand you off to her gf

Proud Chaggie enthusiast here

Gives a Solid hug

Firm and safe vibes

Lowkey happy to came to her though

Won’t hug you for a long period of time

BUT

Will happily let you trail after her for the rest of the day

Angel Dust

MY BELOVED

“Ya sure ya don’t need nothin’ else babes?”

Honest to god shocked when you genuinely just want a hug

“Ah, shit. Um. Okay toots.”

Starts off as the awkwardest hugger omfg

Doesn’t rlly know what to do

Realises that he kinda needs this too after the first few seconds.

One set of arms hold you, while the other plays with your hair

“Yo, do ya just wanna cuddle or somethin’?”

Y’all become eachother’s designated comfort person after that

you’re one of the only people who’s touch makes angel feel safe and cared for

Husk

“Shit, really? Ugh, c’m’ere.”

Pretends to hate it

Probs the only person to instantly pick up on whatever reason you need a hug

“You need to talk ‘bout it?”

Canonically good listener

Won’t offer solutions unless you ask for them

wing hugs, wing hugs, wing hugs, wing hugs

Like Vaggie, won’t Actively hold you for long

But will let you cling onto him for however long you need

Tries to stop you from hugging anyone he deems “too fucked up”

it’s literally just alastor ffs

Nifty

“OhohohhoHOHOHHO of course!!”

Literally scales up your body like the little gremlin she is

Basically just rides on your shoulders

Probs tries to steal something from you (hair, etc) for her “friends shrine”

It’s a lil creepy, but well intentioned

If you’re (un)lucky she’ll make you a crown of dead bugs

Sir Pentious

“From me?”

Babes is so confused

But not unwilling

“Of courssse my dear friend!”

Tbh really touched that you trust him that much

Gets the egg boiz in on it

Probs starts rambling to you about his newest inventions

Is the type to forget he’s hugging you, and just continue on as usual and get confused when his hands are full

Beloved dumb bitch

Alastor

“No :)”

I’m sorry y’all but he just Won’t

[capinejghafa]

I know this is a little dumb but I just love reading fics that have Kaz bypassing all of the Van Eck’s mansion security measures post-canon. For whatever reason it makes me smile. Like Kaz use the front door, Wylan and Jesper might let you in, and he never does. Good for him.

[wynnyfryd]

the kind of charm we need

written for @steddiemicrofic september prompt ‘charm’ + 548 words | rated T | pre-relationship, fluff, flirting, boys being dumb

🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄

“‘Not the kind of charm we need,’” Steve mutters derisively to himself for the tenth time that day as they pull up to the cemetery curb.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin sighs, “your time and talents are sooo wasted on us, Steve, we get it.”

Max glares at him from the rearview like she agrees with Dustin, then shoves out of the backseat and slams the door shut behind her without a word.

Shit.

Steve watches her climb the hill, guilt rolling through his guts. Fuckin’ Nancy. There are bigger problems here.

Like, for example, the metalhead fugitive having a nervous breakdown in a boathouse.

“Oh, my god,” Lucas says from the backseat as the walkie crackles to life, Eddie’s quivering voice calling out for ‘Dustin? Anybody? Hello??’

He passes the walkie up to the front with a look like he’s debating whether or not to just smash the thing to pieces on the asphalt instead. “Can you maybe use your charm on Eddie before I murder him?”

“He’s in distress!” Dustin cries.

“He’s on my last nerve!”

“Seriously, anybody?? Please!”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, give me that.” Steve yanks the walkie out of Lucas’ hand, hauls himself out of the car — leans in to tell the two shitheads to stay put and shut up before he closes the door.

He leans against the driver’s side, head throbbing, body sore. Can’t tell if he’s too young or too old for this shit. He pushes the talk button with a begrudgingly slow press.

“Steve Harrington’s babysitting and distraction service, how may I help you? Over.”

“Stevie!” Eddie whoops, sounding genuinely thrilled to hear Steve’s voice. Steve knows he’s just excited to hear anyone’s voice, but. Hm. “Goddamn am I glad to- wait, where’s Henderson? Sinclair? Are they—?”

“They’re fine,” Steve assures before the creep of hysteria he hears can fully take hold. He kicks his heel against the front tire. “They’re waiting in the car. I’ve been instructed to, like, charm you into calming down, or whatever.”

“Charm me?” Eddie’s voice lilts with interest. Steve can almost see the smile, the way he licks across his front teeth.

“Just a— well, not a joke, but, like…” Steve trails off, gives up trying to explain. Nance has this way of making comments that cling like cactus spines. “Never mind.”

“No, no,” Eddie says. “Go on. I’m ready to be charmed.”

And maybe it’s the way Eddie says charmed like a snake scenting the air, or maybe it’s the stress of the day; maybe he’s finally having his own little mental breakdown as a treat, because for some insane reason he leans into whatever this is, pitches his voice all low and slippery and asks, “What are you wearing?”

Silence for a moment, and then Eddie cackles, the noise so loud it overwhelms the little speaker in the walkie, bursts of laughter breaking through the static noise. Steve finds himself laughing, too, a slow thing that builds and builds, swells inside him like blown glass until he’s warm and bright all over.

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes when he finally calms. “You’re— you’re ridiculous. Shit, man, I really needed that, you have no idea.”

Steve smiles to himself. Bites the inside of his cheek. Not the kind of charm we need.

No, but someone might.

🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄

note: i am aware that this is canon adjacent (which is to say that i meant for it to take place in canon but i didn’t feel like rewatching the scene for total accuracy so like, canon can bite me it’s close enough)

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gn!reader, implied bottom reader, semi-erotic and bloody fingersucking, romance, struggling with intimacy on astarions part, not an established relationship fr, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.6k (literally what in the fucking world)

✮ a/n ; *smacks astarions back* you can fit so much projection onto this thing.

canon divergent i.e. this takes place during act two but reader doesn't sleep w astarion in act one. it's explained in da fic.

The taste of intimacy is acrid.

It's bitter and sharp to the senses. In many ways, he finds it unpleasant. Intolerable. He's lost in thought, primarily caught up in the sensation of your skin pressed against his.

Too much, he decides, this entire affair is proving to be too much.

"You know, there's no need for theatrics," He can almost hear the recoil in his own voice, like hiding away into the shadows when dawn approaches. It's instinctive. "All this...poetry is quite thoughtful but very unnecessary."

Yes. Unnecessary. Somehow it feels violent, though it's anything but. You pull away from him and he winces at your expression - genuine confusion draped across your face. Your skin is hotter than the sun, much warmer than his. You're attractive.

Astarion wonders if he can assess you as beautiful. If he's allowed to use something so flowery.

He can't stop thinking about it. He's played the part of a lover before, so kissing and touching in quiet whispers is not unfamiliar. If that's the sort of affair you wish to have, than Astarion can be apart of it no problem. Whatever makes your desire towards him tangible, whatever you want. The last part he doesn't say out loud, or to himself.

But it was real, just a moment ago, wasn't it? The feeling of your lips on his forehead and the crook of his shoulder was real. The words of affection were real. He was looking for fun, debauchery, pleasure.

This is not that, he decides. He decides, too, that he does not like it.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh don't play dumb, darling," He says, his throat tightening. It's natural to him, in a way. "Though your heroic romantic gestures are quite something, they're very unnecessary. We both know what we're here for, do we not? A little roughing up is fine."

You pause, and you stare. Your eyes are clear, like the water of the open ocean surrounding the lower city. Even in the darkness, he can see you perfectly. You can see him too, but he can't see himself even in the reflection of your gaze. He wonders if that is some kind of mercy, but remembers quickly that no god has ever shown him such kindness.

And you wouldn't either, or you shouldn't. He convinces himself that its a courtesy, and that this conversation is an attempt at honest between you. He's expecting something different. Maybe a snarky laugh of approval, or a widening set of eyes. Lurid with excitement in all the ways you're okay to defile him.

Most people he's laid with have given him the same. They're pleased with his fluidity. He shows it off like he's water in a beautiful chalice, look at all the forms I can take and adore me.

And yet, you're all but silent. What a terrible conversation to have when he's almost inside of you, he thinks.

"If that is what you desire," You says, your words slow. You then, so softly, draw your thumb over his cheek bone. It takes strength not to recoil. He almost wants to mock you. Wants to bite at the gentle caress of your hand, wants to make you bleed. "But I would've hoped my gestures conveyed my feelings a little better than this."

Shit. Shit.

"Feelings? Have you really taken a page out of the wizards book and written me a poem?"

"It would be easy enough to do," You say, so easily and so naturally - he can't help but show that he is startled. Shaken by the sincerity of every word. Bitter. "If you desire such gestures."

A feeling coils in his chest. He cannot distinguish his urges from each other. Whether it is hunger or desire. Whether to push you away or cling to you closer. He cannot make sense of any of it, despite his efforts. He doesn't need any blood, he's sure - but his mind lacks clarity.

Is he afraid or angry? He does not remember how to tell the difference between those two emotions, either.

"We're here for sex, you know?" He says, proactively pushing into old habits. His eyes feel heavy in their sockets, like their weighed by his own need to be desired perfectly. He seduces you easily. Lowers his lids and parts his lips, snakes a hand against your waist and lets you fall forward until you collapse against his chest. "Hot, lecherous, burning pleasure. Such romantics are best saved for..."

You look at him, and you want him. But it is not the same. Even he is not so foolish as to deny something you make so obvious.

"For?"

The words someone you love do not leave his lips, though they threaten to. "Someone more suitable."

"There's no one so suitable as you," You say, and the words do not sound damning. They do not intend to please him. They're not coated in myth or covered in lies. They're like you, honest and rich. "And that pleasure can be found all the same with regards to what I do."

Astarion understands little of you. Never has, in full. He finds your character damning, finds your kindness often irritable. His plan to seduce you had worked, he thought. You had taken some kind of liking to him. Enough that you act against yourself, just to appease him at times. To clumsily win him over by being a little bad, or being silver-tongued.

But you hadn't laid a hand on him despite his efforts. Without taking anything, you shield him from harm. You kill the people who wish to kill him. He'd never stopped trying to seduce you, because it benefits him to play the part of prized possession to the strong.

He thought your acceptance of his request meant you had finally broken. That he could go through with it.

Yet, you touch him like this - as you have been all evening. You brought a bedroll to fuck him in the woods of all places. Your hands are soft, and warm. You're reverent. He's kissed plenty of people, and played lovers even more than that. It was his lifes work, after all.

But it is impossible to deny that you're different, despite his best efforts to believe you are not.

Astarion isn't familiar with your gestures. He cannot hold his ground against honesty when his existence is passing and pleasant - ephemeral as a white lie.

"Astarion," You say, clear. You enunciate his name. It is not intended to have any weight, yet it crushes him. His chest tightens. Aches. It is all so strangely miserable. He wants to interrupt you, but cannot fix his lips to do such a thing "I wish to make love to you. You're welcome to find it unnecessary."

A kiss. Your mouth is warm, and tastes faintly like the sweet wine you had before bed. Your hands cup around his nape, and your other hand keeps you upright. He won't fall for it but his body does not listen, makes him melt comfortably into the bedroll. You kiss and kiss and kiss, and it is well-practiced like you have loved many times before him.

You must know something better than him.

Still. There is not enough strength in his limbs to fight you. His eyes blink open when you've stopped. A scream almost rips from him, but he's frozen in place instead. He can fight now. He could fight this.

The nails he tries to scratch you with, dig deep onto your waist. He closes his eyes. A begging for you to stay.

"Darling, really," His voice cracks. A touch so gentle and unfamiliar may be the thing to flay him open - cut him into pieces and open him up the blackened night sky. His lips feel cracked, hands shaking. "Wholly unnecessary."

There is no way out from this. From his feelings for you. How terrible.

You examine him quietly, then smile like you know everything. He is so much older than you, yet you smile like you've lived one thousand more lives. Maybe you have.

"Astarion," You mumble, your hands finding his hands. You lock your fingers together, your touch making his nerves fire whenever you brush along them. Your free hand ghosts his lips. "Look at me,"

Then, very suddenly, you push your thumb against the point of his fang. It punctures you in no small wound, and you push until the blood spills. You wince, but it's barely there. You let the blood spill into his parted mouth, let the taste of it fetter onto his lips and tongue. It's almost saccharine. He leans up on instinct, latching himself to it. He drinks from your self-inflicted wound with his eyes lidded, with desperation so unsightly.

You don't slink back. You watch onto him fondly. Watch him eat recklessly. Watch him swallow around you.

You already know what he is, he realizes, too late. The weight of your deliberateness nearly buries him. Unpleasant eyes, that know everything about him without any modicum of effort.

The feeling of anxiety, of restlessness well up even deeper inside him. The bitter unforgiving irony of finding intimacy with you lingers still. There is no escaping the thought that it will be you who betrays him first, and not someone else.

But the taste of blood, your blood, washes it all out. The gentle touch of your skin unsettles him as much as it makes him needy. He wants to be adored, and be adored by you.

He wants you in a way that does not incite any instinct. He works against each one trying to look you in the eyes.

When he manages, you are there and you are kind. You want to make love to him. He wants, very desperately, to believe it is possible. That such a ridiculous thing exists outside of a performance.

His voice is soft as a whisper. "I guess it's not impossible to appease you,"

You kiss the corner of his mouth and grin. He doesn't flinch this time.

"I'm quite relieved."

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | kisses! (part two)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Scream (kinda), Hannibal (TV), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; suggestive content

♡ notes; i swear i have consistent groups of characters picked out i swearrrr

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> at first, he’s hesitant to even kiss

> one, it’s a gateway to more- part of his brain is still nagging at him for being involved with someone at all

> two, he doesn’t want you to see his face any more than you have to

> but god does he love it when you finally do kiss him, promising not to look and gently pushing his mask away with your eyes closed

> he suddenly gets what the big deal is and he’s hungry for more

> even if you’re super clingy, he’s ten times worse

> he wants to carry you everywhere- no one can bug you that way

> and it’s super easy to kiss you when he doesn’t have to stoop down (in comic canon he’s 7 ft we’re keeping that whew)

> sometimes when he doesn’t want to take off the mask- usually when he’s taking a break from working- he’ll just affectionately bump foreheads with you

> kinda like a giant cat, but he considers it a kiss

> he’d be worried for your health if you actually kiss the mask, he knows it ain’t clean lol

> you’d have to beg really nicely for hickies- and no way he’s biting you, he’s so nice

> he gets very flustered if you give him marks- but he’ll stare and admire at them in the mirror all the time until they fade

> his favorite kisses are first thing in the morning, when you yawn awake and gently press one to his cheek or forehead

> he loves that the first thing you do each day is love on him

Bo Sinclair

> king of PDA

> he’d call himself that unironically too

> to be fair usually there’s not many people around

> but on rare outings out of Ambrose, he makes good on the title

> he’s always got a hand in your back pocket , or on the small of your back, or around you completely.

> and his face pressed into your temple every opportunity, mumbling quietly to you whatever dumb joke he can think of and giving you little kisses

> he’s a biter, definitely loves marking you up and then bragging about it.

> on your neck, but in less visible places as well. thighs are a favorite

> he’ll go as far as to show you off to planned victims if it’s safe enough

> as soon as you’re alone together, even for the briefest amount of time, he pounces

> he kisses you rough and deep and creeps a hand up your shirt

> usually he stops just at your tummy, but that’s more frustrating

> and if he feels like being a little shit- which he always does, he takes more than a second to pull away when someone walks back in

> he’d never admit it, but the kisses most precious to him are the ones that no one else will ever see. ever

> he has night terrors often. he went through so much abuse and trauma as a child that it’s inevitable

> and each time he wakes up screaming, you hold him tight

> his head on your chest as you kiss the top of his head and rock gently

Vincent Sinclair

> he’s shy. eventually for you he comes out of his shell, but when it comes to PDA his anxiety always present.

> he doesn’t like his brothers seeing you kiss. or the dog

> he will hold your hand in front of them at least, and he doesn’t complain when you ghost your lips over his knuckles

> alone it’s a completely different story

> he loves holding and being held, your face hidden his hair and giving him gentle neck and jaw kisses

> the quickest way to get the mask off is to ask for a kiss

> he’s a sucker for that cute pout you do

> and he’s eager to oblige anyways, almost methodical with his gentle kisses

> he always has a hand on your cheek, and kisses slowly, savoring it

> and then he usually moves down, worshipping every sensitive spot

> he likes receiving marks more than giving- but if he does give you a hickey it’s getting photographed and drawn

> you’re his muse after all

> and he’ll go through periods fixated with drawing your mouth and neck when you’ve got these little love marks

> (and i have just. the clearest image in my mind of him putting on black lipstick and covering you kisses for a portrait he wants to paint. i don’t know if that’s anything but it’s definitely cute.)

> his favorite kisses are the most simple, when you’re checking in on him at work

> you don’t say anything, just hand him a mug and peck the mask

> and if he’s lucky you’ll linger, arms around him and chin on his shoulder as you peek at the canvas or little sculpture

Danny Johnson

> second runner up for king of PDA

> he’s slightly more relaxed, though he’s one to keep at least slight contact when he’s around you

> he’s just so possessive

> he trusts you wholeheartedly, but he doesn’t think other people deserve to even check you out

> so if someone looks too long he’ll give you a lingering kiss that makes you giggle

> because you kind of love his jealous streak- it’s playful even if he acts so serious

> he wouldn’t hurt anyone for just looking. probably

> he’s another freak that loves the mask kissed

> and also, another freak with a documentation kink- every single bruise and bite gets photographed

> and sometimes he’ll take a shot of you kiss drunk, lips swollen and eyes hazy and panting right after he pulls away

> those are his favorite pictures

> he loves coming home, still bloodied and suited up

> pushing his mask up and pulling you close to make out in the kitchen

> even if you’re whining that he’s staining your pajamas again

> he’ll tell you to shut up and put you on the counter, kissing you while standing between your legs

> and then he’ll kiss your neck, then chest, then stomach then…well you get the picture

Hannibal Lecter

> he’s an expert in everything he does- kissing is no exception

> he is surprisingly chaste most of the time

> he loves giving kisses on the cheek, the forehead, the top of the head especially

> and he’ll certainly briefly hug you and hold your hand in public, but nothing more

> it can be frustrating at times, especially if you’re an attention hungry person or particularly insecure

> and when you tell that this his eyes soften and he holds you close, murmuring reassurance

> from then on he tries to be more mindful of reading your cues and giving you plenty of love when you need it

> he loves when you ask for kisses

> whether it’s “pretty please kiss me?” or “can i kiss you?” , he loves when you look up at him all shy and mumble out the question

> he’s got a… dominant personality, he loves when you ask or ask permission for lots of things

> especially bites and hickies

> you’ve got to beg to get him to mark you- not that he’s hesitant to-he just likes it.

> and when he starts it’s all night, everywhere

> he’ll coo over you and tell you how nicely you bruise

> if you ever mark him, you’re in trouble

> the fun kind, but still trouble

> he loves breathless kisses- the kind you give him after doing something incredibly lewd

> just so full of affection and desperation and sloppy

[nonuify]

I love your nsfw headcanons 💓

Can you do one for chan??? /nf

ᝰ.ᐟ 📁 — L.CH ; ! nsfw headcanons

nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. [ smut ] ꩜.

we all know how he’s so sweet in the outside but my man is one mean dom if you get under his skin, like it’s so hot seeing him all bothered wanting to fuck you.

I think he’d take you anywhere, anytime he’ll pull you to the closest private room & stretch you out dumb.

he’s obsessed with your boobs I mean OBSESSED. he’ll play with them, slap, bite anything, but his favorite is seeing his cum spread all over them, you know he’s gonna take a picture of it.

he’s such a fuckin tease like I know he’ll rub his cock all over your wet clothed cunt, till his precum painted your ruined panties.

also I think you & him got kinda of a brat & dom dynamic like it’s so hot lol, him being a brat but actually brat taming his lover uhm.. yes please!

idk but he & seungchol would be sooo into pussy slapping ugh like you being a brat chan would put you right into your place by slapping your poor wet cunt :(.

chan adores calling you petnames in bed even if it’s for degrading or whatever, he loves it, deep down he loves when you call him names.

he loves marking you so bad like, every inch of you covered in hickeys he loves showing people that your his & his only.

smth about him screams spanks, he spanks you with a paddle like it’s just so him im screaming, ugh & it has a heart shape in the middle.

even though he’s usually a meanie he has his soft times when you’re stressed vice versa, it’ll only be some of the sweetest things he can say.

his fav place to fuck is the couch like he’d be too needy to do you in the bed so the couch is the closest thing like also he’s vile for letting yalls afterwards uhmmm liquids be there, like he’s just nasty lspsoslsl.

he’s so into dry humping like omg he’d be sooo mean to no fuck you silly with his cock “cmon baby make my pants wet with that little pussy of yours” & you’ll be like a bunny in heat till a spot of arousal is on his pants.

yeahhh, he’d be the to torture you make you cockwarm him with your mouth till he’s satisfied to pound into you.

I think he’d put whip-cream in your cunt & eat it out it’s canon tbh.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! i hope you like this anon!!

[popironrye]

The Lost Boys

Leisure Headcanons

💋 David 💋

Is a skilled fire arm shooter. (Loves the cowboy aesthetic)

Has his own gun hidden in the cave.

Doesn't get the chance too often, but will ride a horse when the chance arises.

Likes wood carving. Mostly non specific whittling into basic shapes or animals. It helps him relax.

Movie nut! When the boys go the Max's store to fool around, David makes sure to tuck a movie or two that catches his eye in his coat. Tends to watch them alone, all the questions from Paul would just grate on his nerves too much.

I imagine David would be like REALLY good at origami for no particular reason. He doesn't even try, just once the boys do it just because and he's just the best at it.

I don't know if vampires can emerge in water in the lost boys lore, but if they can David loves to swim. Chilling in water clears his mind.

💀 Dwayne 💀

Skater boi! Does a lot of sick tricks, but when you can levitate it's less impressive. XD

Doesn't care for guns, but likes archery. Hammers his own arrow heads. Dwayne and David like to pick a spot in the woods to shoot make shift targets.

A real book worm. Will spend a lot of time just silently reading for hours.

Takes up knitting from time to time. He prefers hand knitted blankets and throws rather then the store ones.

Likes to make jewelry. Made his own necklace.

Enjoys all types of puzzles. Cross word, jigsaw, and brain teasers.

Can sew and offers to sew up holes made in all the clothes the boys decide not to get new ones.

🌿 Paul 🌿

Can play the guitar.

Also likes to sing, and is pretty good at it. Wanted to start a band, but the other boys weren't up for it.

Has the biggest music collection and is always hogging the tabletop/cassette/cd player.

Amateur photography. Just likes to take photos randomly. Some are really artsy.

Got really into tie dye for a while. Although he might have just been high.

When he wants to relax, Paul really likes to stargaze. Laying outside the cave looking at the sky and hearing the waves of the ocean just makes him feel at peace.

When David isn't using the tv monitor, Paul enjoys quite a few video games. He also likes to take on the arcade and carnival games at the boardwalk.

🪶 Marko 🪶

Aside from pigeons, Marko will try to domesticate a number of animals to the cave, including stray dogs, cats, deer, badgers, squirrel, foxes, bats, and even a black bear once.

He did in fact not domesticate a black bear, but he did wrestle one.

He does his own patchwork on his jacket.

Like David, he likes to sculpt into wood, but he usually carves patterns and landscapes into more grand pieces.

He's also a skilled painter. Mostly he'll paint murals on sections of the cave David says is ok for him to paint on.

He collects sea shells on the beach.

He'll style the others hair. Especially David who he'll cut and dye in the way he likes best.

🔥Pack Activities🔥

Dart throwing. The bigger the target the better. David and Dwyane are very competitive at this one specifically.

Rollerblading. Put wheels on shoes, what more can you want?

Listening to music. The boys have very wide music tastes and sometimes they cross over and they all like the same stuff. They take turns around the player of their choice to just smoke, drink, and listen to the sounds of the music plays.

Card games. Specifically poker when they're all together. They make things more interesting when they make bets.

And of course motocycle cruising and board walk loitering.

Something that always strikes me with vampires in fiction and indeed with any immortal creature with the high and emotional intelligence of humans. IMMORTALITY IS FUCKING BORING!

I mean, think about it. Imagine you're given all the free time in the world with very little responsibility with no fear of getting sick or tired allowed to do pretty much whatever you want. What would you do? Cause I would go stir crazy. So I came up with these dumb little head canons on how I image the boys specifically would pass the time in their little vampire lives that doesn't revolve around murdering and feeding off of people.

Of course cruising on their bikes come to mind. And there's a couple in the movie we get to see like Dwayne's skateboarding and Marko's fondness for pigeons but I wanted to throw more possibilities out there. :3

[januaryembrs]

SUCH A PRETTY HOUSE | Joel Miller x Reader

request: Can you do Joel miller x reader no surprises by radio head angst fic

description: Joel remembers that one summer he knew her, and the ten year scar it left him.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: Pregnant!Reader, major character death (canon to TLOU and also reader dies, not explicit,), guns, death, violence. Joel feels unworthy, mentions of Sarah.

authors notes: em tries not to write something heart wrenching challenge, go.

There weren’t many things that meant something to Joel anymore. The day cordyceps took over the world, it took almost everything in him with it. Whatever was left made room for anger and resentment to curl inside him, make its home in his bones, make him lash out at everyone who wasn’t Tess. 

But he felt himself make an exception the day he met her. 

He’d been entirely sceptical when Tess told him she’d been able to find someone on a radio channel who could help them with supplies. It would mean sneaking out of QZ, a dumb move even on a good day, and trusting a stranger that was all but promising them candy if they climbed into his van. He wasn’t a stupid man, not by any means. But Tess had this way of bending his resolve, pushing him further and further if it meant they could come out better in the end. 

When they’d arrived to Frank and Bill’s for the first time, they were gobsmacked to see an entire street of houses cordoned off with barbed wire and explosives, as if it had never been touched by cordyceps, as if they’d catapulted into a time before people were eaten alive and before the world ended. A quaint little town with dusty cars and clean streets and houses and empty shops and gardens full of wildflowers and strawberries. 

Joel felt like he might be sick, but perhaps that was something between jealousy and caution just playing on his tongue. 

A spritely man a little older than him bounded down the stairs to the first house on the left, piercing blue eyes looking over them with the same excitement of a puppy being told to play fetch. There was no way a man so jolly could have done all of this himself. 

“Tess?” He called, and Joel remembered the way Tess smiled sweetly, because she was just as stunned as he was that they were in some sort of utopia, a little fence and a gate the only thing between them and how things used to be. 

“It’s Frank, right?” She guessed, and it was then that Joel heard the caution, “Didn’t you say there was two of you?” 

“Yes, Bill, my-” He stopped himself short, as if he didn’t quite know what to call him. He breezed over the hesitation quickly, buzzing in on the remote the combination, looking then to Joel, “You must be Joel,”

Joel gave him a nod, his fingers tightening on the shotgun in his hand. It wasn’t even a split second after the gate started to slide open that another man emerged from the house, his face thunderous as he barrelled down the stairs and towards where they stood. 

“Frank, didn’t I tell you to wait,” He snapped, his brows strained into a frown, a gun of his own in his palms, “We need to make sure she’s ready, they could be infected-”

“She?” Joel cut in it a biting tone of his own, “Who’s she? You said there was two-” 

“Bill,” Frank warned, as the shorter man produced a scanner out of his pocket and ran it over both of their necks. Joel knew this Bill could feel the heat of his glare on the side of his head, though as soon as the screen lit up green for both of them, he saw him take a sigh of relief. “We’re never going to make any more friends if you keep shoving them away,”

Joel couldn’t really blame him for worrying. 

It wasn’t until they saw the door opposite theirs swing open that he understood even more why Bill was so unwelcoming. 

He should have seen it before, the sweet hanging baskets full of lupines and primrose, the luscious lawn trimmed and primped, lined with tended bluebonnets and sunflowers beaming at the woman that emerged from the fresh white house with a bright grin, like she was their sun and they smiled back at her in awe.

She wore a white sundress, long enough to touch her knees, and it flowed with the warm breeze as they stepped past the threshold to the town, her feet bare save for some little brown sandals that seemed in better condition than he’d expect. Her face glowed with excitement, gaze switching between him and Tess, and her figure was full and soft at the same time. 

It wasn’t until she got closer he could see where her stomach pulled against the fabric obtusely and it was like a sadness washed over the two of them as she finally got close enough to talk. 

She was pregnant.

“You must be Tessa! Frank told me all about you,” She said, pulling the woman in for a warm hug Tess didn’t seem to have much of a choice in. 

“It’s Tess,” His companion corrected, though she gave her a light squeeze back, and her face softened out as if she didn’t seem to mind the intrusion, nor the new name. 

Bill froze up at the sight of her tugging Joel closer the minute she'd released Tess, ignoring every boundary his standoffish expression could possibly set, and it was like he understood why the flowers twinkled up at her. She was warm, incredibly so to the point even when he didn’t return the gesture, he felt himself conscious of how rough his skin was and how hard the gun must have been pressing against her chest where it squished in between them and how he hoped to god it wasn’t hurting her or the baby. 

He felt cruel the minute she pulled away, crueller than he usually felt, but his frown never wavered, not even when she simpered at him, despite Bill saying her name in a worried tone. 

“Just ignore him, he would bubble wrap me if he could,” She whispered to Joel, and her laugh was a tinkling bell in the wind. She grabbed Tess’s hand in a quick and gentle motion, walking her up the pathway back to her house, and Joel could have sworn he heard the promise of ice tea leave her lips.

“I’m so pleased to have another woman around,” She said to Tess, who looked as if she was fighting back a feathery happiness of her own around the woman who seemed too good to be true in a world so harsh as this one. 

Joel knew he would have his work cut out for him trying not to get attached. 

-

Ellie knew she was on thin ice already. For a girl of only fourteen, she was incredibly perceptive of people’s feelings, especially the grumpy, grey haired bastard that had just lost perhaps the only woman who meant anything to him. She had to admit Tess’s death made her feel like she was some sort of unlucky charm, like anyone who so much as got close to her was doomed from the word ‘go’. 

She hated herself for it, and she assumed from Joel’s silence and the way he’d stormed out of Bill and Frank’s house as soon as she’d read that letter that he hated her too. 

That was until she saw him walking across the street to the house with dead flower beds and smashed windows and no sign of life that she thought perhaps she wasn’t entirely the problem. 

She found him in the bedroom, laying on the double mattress with his eyes closed, though she knew he wasn’t sleeping. The walls were a pretty sort of posy pink, the sheets an intricate pattern of doves and white lilies, and a little painting on the nightstand of two women smiling at one another, one so clearly being Tess while the other remained an enigma. 

It wasn’t until she spotted the cradle next to the bed that her heart sank into her stomach. 

“Bill and Frank weren’t the first ones to die, were they?” Ellie asked softly, and he shook his head wordlessly, “Was it yours? The…”  The baby.  

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She wouldn’t put it past him to yell at her for prying. 

He lay there like a wounded animal, and he shocked her when he actually spoke. 

“It wasn’t mine,” His voice was gravelly, hardened, yet worn out all the same, “But we were going to-” He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath, “We were going to raise it together, the two of us. Tess was supposed to be godmother,”

He remembered the way she used to call her Tessa, and how Tess didn’t seem to mind it so much once she saw how truly sickly sweet she was to her core, and how she said it so full of love, the way you could only love your best friend. He remembered how he kissed her, a few months after that first time he’d seen her, how he’d kissed her and pulled her close and how they’d slept in that room together, and how he’d promised her everything was going to be okay because he was going to protect her and that baby. 

Joel remembered thinking that was his second chance. How he knew it wouldn’t bring Sarah back, nothing could ever, but maybe his sweet girl and that baby would be his chance to prove that he could save someone, that he could do some good. 

“What happened? Where’s the baby?” Ellie asked too intrusively, hoping he didn’t shut her out entirely after this, but she had to know. She had to know who the pretty woman in the picture was, and why Tess, even the little splotch of paint she was now, looked at her so besotted that Ellie had to have answers now. She had to know why they had never spoken about her and why Joel seemed to be giving up on her now. Like Tess had pushed him over the edge of a sadness years in the making. 

She didn’t think he would reply, but then; “One night, raiders came while me and Tess were getting her supplies from the city. Few weeks before she was due.” She heard his voice deepen into something dark and angry, “She didn’t stand a chance.”

And Ellie never brought her up again after that day, only once to ask her name, and neither did Joel. He left his sweet girl and whatever he could have been in that pretty house, put her in a box in his chest right next to Sarah, until it didn’t hurt so much to think about her.

[queers-gambit]

But You Without Me Ain't Nice

prompt: ( requested ) deciding to surprise your boyfriend for Christmas after studying abroad, only to discover him in the arms of another. when you return to Oxford, so does his desire.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 5.7k+

note: it's not EXPLICIT cheating 'cause i wanted them to get back together.

warnings: small bouts of jaded feminism, cursing, hurt and comfort, AU timeline 'cause of implied altered canon, small angst, drama, emotions are hard, long distance relationships are hard, boys are dumb, "cheating" but not explicit - you'll see, more so betrayal, so that makes this relationship angst?

Cassandra's squeal of excitement was shrill enough to pierce an eardrum when you shuffled into her dormitory, shaking the snow from your hair and coat before she hugged you tightly. "I'm so excited you're here!" She beamed, "It's been so fucking lonely without you! God, you just had to leave, huh?"

You chuckled, "Oh, shove it. Edinburgh has one of the best programs in Europe, Cass, you know this!"

"I know, I know, you're better than us little folk at Oxford," she mocked with a groan, letting go of you as your eyes rolled in humor. "But still - it's so boring without you, I miss my roomie. There's literally nobody around for me to cause havoc with," she pouted dramatically.

"Well, I'm here for the holidays," you assured, "so you get me for the next couple weeks, you lucky ducky."

"Oh, please, you and I both know Felix isn't gonna let you outta his sight when he sees you. You planning on goin' home at all?"

"No, no, my sister has a flat just down the way," you explained. "She's in London until after the New Year - gave me her key when she picked me up from the airport," you showed her the metal device with a grin.

"Gonna take Felix back to the flat?"

"If he wants," you nodded.

"Oh, yeah, whatever, a flat completely to yourselves for the entire winter holiday? He's gonna lose his mind," your friend tutted. "When are you seeing him?"

"Uh, he said he was going to some party tonight?"

"Well, that's normal," she muttered almost bitterly. "C'mon, get changed, we'll meet him there."

"What do you mean, 'normal'?"

"What? Oh," her head shook as if realizing what she had just said. "No, it's - it's nothing, just," she winced slightly, "Felix is at every party."

"Really?" You asked softly. "We talk all the time on the phone, when does he even have time?"

"No offense, but it's not like he's a model student. He's constantly partying, I hear about it all the time from girls in class - "

"What do they say?"

"He's just popular - you know, he's Felix. And he's a regular at the pubs, too."

You had a weird feeling in your gut and chest, just nodding at Cassandra. "Well, at least he's enjoying himself," you offered meekly.

"Mhm, got that right," she snickered. "He's a legend 'round the university, even people in other colleges and programs know about him. Guess that's one way t'make an impression."

"Yeah, that's Felix for yah," you sighed. "Can I borrow an outfit?"

"What's wrong with that?" She paused, looking you up and down, then wincing, "Yeah, okay, I have options for you."

"Oh, don't sound so judgmental!" You laughed, "I just didn't pack party clothes, I didn't think we'd be going to any."

"You're so lucky to have me," she grinned at you, shoving through a rack of options in her wardrobe. "You wanna look classy slutty, spicy slutty, or just plain slutty-slutty?"

You hummed and chose the 'classy' option, being an open back black mini dress that clung to your figure and hiked up your thighs with every step. It felt exciting to be with Cassandra again, meeting your first year of secondary school and becoming the closest of friends; enduring family turmoil and social drama arm-in-arm. You listened to preppy pop music as you got ready; taking turns in the bathroom to finish your hair and make-up before slipping the dress on and latching the borrowed heels around your ankles.

When you gave her a look at your final outfit, she approved - claiming Felix would probably have a heart attack when he saw you.

"Wait!" You laughed, snatching a festive Santa Claus hat from the care package her parents sent; nestling it on your head. "Eh? Eh? Right? It's good!"

"Girl - "

"C'mon, it's festive!"

"You're lucky you're just so damn cute - it works," she grinned, tossing you your coat before shrugging into hers. "Hold on - you know the rules!" She halted you from opening the dorm door, holding up the bottle of tequila. "Shots before we leave!"

"Jesus, I've missed you," you laughed, taking the solo cup she held out; watching her pour enough for at least 2-3 shots.

"It'll keep us warm in the snow," she explained. "They not partying down at Edinburgh?"

"Not like here," you snickered, downing the drinks with a screwed up expression. "And they're all really preppy - like I thought Oxford had snobs, but Christ Almighty. My roommate down there literally had a panic attack when I bought a bottle of wine."

"Why?"

"She's American, said they're not allowed until they're 21."

"Wow... That's gotta suck for them," she downed her own shots. "Okay! You ready? Wait, are you wearing panties?"

"Yeah - "

"You can't in that dress."

"I'm not taking my panties off, Cass, let's just go!" You laughed, snatching her hand and leading her out of the dorm. "So, c'mon, tell me about the guy you're seeing," you requested, looping your arms together, trudging onto the snowy sidewalk.

"Oh, you mean Jason? Yeah, no, that's over. I just realized that being here is literally the only time in my life I'll have all these easy opportunities and there was no use in wasting my time dating just one person. And it eliminates the threat of cheating. Like... I don't hold my liquor all that well anymore and there's so many good looking people here! Why be in a relationship and run that risk, you know?"

You blinked at her, unsure what to say.

"Oh," she froze, "no, no, I didn't mean - no, look, dating in college is really cool when you know you're with the right person. And since you and Felix have been together for two years already, I think it's pretty safe to say he's the right one - right?"

"I think so... But I can't lie, I've been feeling kinda guilty, thinking Felix would prefer the opportunity to sow his wild oats instead of committing to us. You know? Like you said - "

"No, don't do that, you're gonna give yourself an aneurysm being stressed and upset," she hugged your arm tightly, continuing down the sidewalk. "Felix doesn't want t'be single, he would've bucked up the nerve to break up already. And you guys talk so often, he would've said something, right?"

You mused, "Not necessarily, Felix is used to having all he wants."

She shrugged off your words, "You're overthinking 'cause you're nervous to surprise him. But you're the best Christmas present, seriously. Made my day all the better."

You just smiled and skipped over the patch of ice in your way, nearly slipping, but Cassandra kept a tight hold on you - laughing loudly, your amused shrieks echoing around the brownstone buildings. When you arrived at the flat hosting the party, you climbed 2 flights of stairs without incident and let yourselves in; being greeted by strobe lights, thick clouds of smoke, and an abundance of drunken Oxford students.

It was packed - a welcomed sight after your past semester abroad, attending dinner parties with tart wines and classical music. You only had one more semester left before coming back to Oxford full time, and things just weren't the same being away; you missed the excitement, the parties, the friends you made. Granted, you had friends at Edinburgh, you often thought you could make friends anywhere, but you knew a lot of faces here. It was a comfort. And despite knowing you were here only a couple weeks until the next semester began again, it was still nice being back.

You were greeted by several people, being hugged happily and your cheeks kissed sloppily. They asked all about your program in Scotland, insisting you do rounds of shots with them, updating you on the juiciest gossip you missed.

They told you everything... Except what you should've known.

"Have you guys seen Felix?" You asked, glancing around the packed party. You noticed the uncomfortable looks exchanged, questioning, "What? What is it?"

"Uh, you know what?" Oliver Quick sighed, a new addition to the friend group that you didn't know - actually meeting for the first time tonight. "Yeah, yeah, saw him over there - on the sofa," he pointed somewhere behind you.

"Thanks, mate," you patted his shoulder, turning to push through the partygoers.

When you were gone, Farleigh turned to Oliver, "What the fuck was that? You know Felix is drunk off his tits and India's rubbing real close."

"So? Shouldn't she know someone's making moves on her man?" Oliver asked. "Not exactly fair - "

"It's not entirely fair to set Felix up like that," Farleigh sneered. "He misses her, so he drinks, flirts with girls. But he's not acting on it, you just want to get him in trouble, you fuckin' twat!"

Oliver shrugged, looking over in time to spy you approaching the couch. "He'll only get in trouble if he's acting on his impulses, being unfaithful," Ollie sneered.

When you made it through the crowd, you found Felix sitting on the couch, but what made you stop in your tracks was the little lady sat on his lap - a girl you recognized vaguely. Felix downed the shot being handed to him, grinning that stupid grin you adore, broad hands splayed on the girl's thigh as she curled into her chest with skinny arms wrapped around his neck. Her sticky lips whispered something in his ear, giving a small nibble that made your boyfriend laugh - always the ticklish type.

The alcohol you had already downed burned an angry hole in your gut, heart heavy with betrayal, feeling outrage at their audacity the longer you watched. You looked beside you and snatched the drink from a drunk guy, taking two dramatic strides up to them and without thought, launched the entire cup at the couple.

"You bitch!" India gasped, rocketing to her feet. Felix was about to yell himself, but when he looked up and registered your angry eyes glaring at him, he gaped in shock. "Seriously, what the fuck is your issue, slut?" India sneered, stamping her foot.

"Oh, fuck off, sweetheart," you snapped, "not like it's my boyfriend you're sitting on! Really wouldn't throw stones if I was you!"

Felix stood and pushed India to the side, "Baby - "

"Oh, spare me your fucking excuses, Felix! For Christ's sake! This is what you've been doing while I'm gone!? Huh!?"

"No - "

"Bullshit! Cass told me you're constantly partying, so is this what you do? Huh? Hang up the phone with me, come to these shitty parties, get shit faced, and take girls home before calling me in the morning? You even wait until they're gone before dialing my number?"

"Darling, I swear - nothing was happening, nothing was going to happen! I don't - "

"Well, not with us soaking wet!" India raged. "You're just a jealous hag, I mean, you're dating someone like Felix but I've never even seen you! Maybe if you were a better girlfriend, he wouldn't be looking elsewhere!"

"Jesus Christ, India! Fuck off - NOW!" Felix bellowed, shocking the girl. "You don't know a Goddamn thing you're saying, and you know you're too desperate - "

"Oh! So, you're moving in on 'desperate' girls 'cause they're easy, right?" You snapped. "She might be desperate, but you are fucking pathetic, Felix! I know you get everything you want, I know you don't know real consequences, but I don't have to add to that!"

"Let's just talk outside," he tried, looking more and more like a kicked puppy.

"I'm not going anywhere with you again. This isn't working, Felix, there's no way I can trust you - not when I've just seen - this!"

"Baby, it isn't - look, this isn't what it looks like! Okay? I know it looks bad, but I don't touch them - "

"There's more!? Of course, there's more - 'cause why have just one, right?"

He winced, "I just - listen, I only flirt, baby, I swear, but I-I know that's not much better. You bein' gone, I-I have this pent up energy - "

"Oh, the poor rich boy! Unsupervised without his girlfriend, so you think it's okay to flirt with other girls? Have them sit on your lap? Touch them? Flirt all night?"

"I know it sounds bad - "

"No, you know what?" You chuckled ruefully. "You two have fun, I'm out. I'm so fucking done with you, Felix, this relationship - it obviously isn't viable. So, have your skank, but make sure you get to a clinic. You obviously couldn't choose someone decent to cheat on me with, make sure she doesn't give you any STDs."

"What did you say, bitch!?" India tried to surge up to you, but Cassandra stepped in and shoved both her shoulders; sending her sprawling to the dirty, sticky floor.

"Watch yourself," she barked, dropping another drink on her and making India squeal. She glared at Felix and approached you, hushing, "You okay?"

"No."

"Let's get outta here," she nodded, wrapping you in her arms and leading the way out - not like she had to, students parted way like the Red Sea to let you two pass.

"Wait!" Felix rushed, grabbing his jacket and following you both out. Despite the heels, mini dresses, and alcohol, you and Cass were sober enough to scurry down the stairs and outside by the time he caught up. "Baby! Wait! Please, c'mon, let me explain!"

"You've done enough! I've seen enough!" You yelled back, Cass not stopping you two from making your escape. "Just fuck off back to your whores, Felix!"

"No, no," he rushed in front of you two, forcing you to stop. "Let me talk to you, please, you think it's worse than it is, I mean - "

"Awh, you think just touching other bitches isn't that bad?" Cass sneered. "Silly slut," she scoffed, rolling her pretty eyes.

"Cass, do you mind? This is between us," He sighed.

"Oh-ho, I very much mind," she rolled her eyes. "Grovel if you want, but I'm not leaving you two alone."

"I don't want to talk, Felix! For fuck's sake, I saw all I needed to. I'm literally killing myself slowly in Scotland, trying to secure my own future 'cause not all of us can be born into money - "

"Baby, that's not fair - "

" - And you're here, living your best life, being fucking deceitful, aren't you? Your girlfriend on the side and a full buffet of sluts to choose from - and nobody would know 'cause I wasn't in the fucking country! You know what?" You chuckled, "Thank you, actually. Thank you for proving what I feared the most and cutting us free. Better to know now than later when I'm far more invested. Enjoy your pick of the fucking litter, Felix, 'cause I'm removing myself from this equation, you're now free to do whatever you want - don't have to be such a gentleman anymore and just flirt with them."

"You're right, okay? You're right, I wasn't thinking, I was trying to - I don't even know! Have 'the college experience', I think, and I got carried away. I'm so sorry - "

"You're only sorry 'cause you got caught," Cass snapped.

"Ohk for fuck's sake - Cass, I love you and all, but do you mind if this stays between my girl and I?"

"Oh, so you inviting all that female attention was 'keeping it between you'?" She cocked her head, rolling her eyes. "C'mon, babe, let's go. You don't need to hear his pathetic whinging anymore."

"Think you're right," you sniffled from the cold. "Bye, Felix."

"Please - let's just talk about this!"

"No more talking!" You barked. "You don't need to defend yourself, I saw her with you - I don't need your excuses! This is over, Felix, just - for God's sake, fuck off, already!"

He froze, never hearing such aggressive words from you before. In the years you were friends and the two you've dated, you hadn't so much as raised your voice at him - even when upset. To hear such profanity at this level shocked him. He's heard you yell, but usually at other people; he's heard you curse, but typically from excitement. He felt overwhelmed watching Cassandra walk you away under her arm, the tears surfacing and his confusion blinding; wondering how the hell he had managed to fuck everything up THIS bad.

When you got back to her dorm, you were a wreck and Cassandra wasn't sure how to start comforting you. She watched you slide to the floor in tears and squatted to take your shoes off, set the bottle of tequila beside you, and then got comfortable on the ground, too. She stretched her arm around your shoulders, sighing sadly, and just held you when you sobbed uselessly into her neck.

No amount of crying would change the past. No amount of frustration or self-pity would help. No amount of regret would turn back time and prevent you from leaving your very attractive boyfriend to the mercy of Oxford sluts.

After an hour of just crying, Cassandra perked up and asked, "You wanna stay the night here or go to your sister's?"

"Felix knows where your dorm is," you sniffled, mascara down your cheeks and chin. "Maybe we should go?"

"You want me to come, too?"

"I don't want to be alone..."

"Lemme pack real fast," she agreed, leaving you on the floor to drink until you felt numb while she raced around to prepare a duffel bag. When she was finished, she hoisted you from the ground and took her car keys, shouldering your own duffel, and leading you out of the dorms. On your way to student parking, neither of you were surprised to find Felix sprinting in your direction.

"Baby! Wait, wait, wait! Please!" He begged, barely slowing down and literally skidding to a halt, nearly slipping on ice. "Just - please, let me talk to you. I-I can't let you leave thinking I fucked those girls - "

"Oh, just go fuck yourself, Felix!" You laughed.

"Is she drunk?" He asked Cass in mild shock.

"Do you know a better way to deal with a break up?" She rolled her eyes.

"We're not broken up - "

"I heard otherwise," she sneered. "You're not used to losing, Felix, but the rest of us, on Earth, know when a relationship is over."

"I made a mistake!" He pleaded loudly.

"Just one?" You snapped.

"No, you know what? I've made a few, but I swear, nothing fucking happened! Not with any of them!"

"Oh," you mocked, snickering to Cassandra.

"Just give me a chance - "

"I did," you interrupted sadly. "I gave you all the chances, Felix, and you still chose to betray me. So, you know what? I just need time to digest your bullshit betrayal, and in order to do that, I literally can't be around you."

"How will you know how sorry I am?"

"I know, I can see it - just like I saw that bitch on your lap," you scoffed. "Can we go now?"

"C'mon, babe," Cass agreed.

"Go? Go where?" He rushed, looking panicked.

"Away from you!" You laughed, holding onto your friends arm tightly as you wobbled in her borrowed shoes.

"At least let me help you - "

"Don't need help from a slut!" You shouted to the sky, not stopping.

Felix Catton was left standing in the snow, his heart walking away from him in heels too high.

And when you got to your sister's flat, Cassandra raided the fridge and brought you ice cream and pretzels - for something both sweet and salty. For the rest of the night, you cried while stuffing your face, but whatever it was worth, at the very least, you had your best friend there to wipe your tears.

Well, after a gut wrenching Christmas break, you went back to Scotland to finish an anticlimactic semester at one of the world's most prestigious universities. Without Felix to call, you dedicated more time to studying, which paid off, because by the end, you received the highest marks in your college and earned multiple letters of recommendations from well-respected professors.

But now that the year abroad was over, you were set to return to Oxford for the next three weeks to report back to your program chairs and give them an update. Suddenly, it was like the entire semester of avoiding your feelings about Felix caught up to you the moment you boarded the plane. You had stuffed your emotions deep down, ignored his morning and evening phone calls (yes, he still called everyday), and tried your hand at dating other people - but it wasn't the same. You hated that you missed him so much, but you figured you had more self-respect than to belittle yourself for a man.

A beautiful, kind, generous man... Who made a mistake... Who demonstrated remorse... Who understands what he did was wrong and hurtful... And your Daddy did raise you to 'forgive and forget'. But still, you had a difficult time forgiving Felix in full, and therefore, couldn't forget what he did.

The betrayal was still so fresh and you couldn't stomach the idea of even speaking to him. So, you decided to avoid him by any means.

When you returned to England, it was drearier than normal. Your sister wasn't able to pick you up this time, figuring you would just hail a cab when someone laid on their horn in a long, continuous, obnoxious beep. When you looked over, Cassandra was waving at you rapidly through her window.

With an easy grin, you rushed over to her car and tossed the few bags you had into the backseat before getting in the passenger seat. "What're you doing here?" You gasped, leaning in to hug your friend.

She returned your affection enthusiastically, then was pushing you off, "Bitch, I'm double parked in the red - we gotta go!" You laughed when she rushed off, heading back to Oxford as she explained, "But you said on the phone your sister wasn't getting you, so I took the liberty of reading between the lines."

"No, I didn't mean it like that - "

"I know you didn't," she grinned, "but I just wanted to get you to campus all the faster, I've missed you!"

"We have three weeks together before the start of summer," you reminded. "Ready for exams?"

"Hardly," she scoffed. "Enough of that! Tell me all about Scotland!"

You spent the rest of the car ride without a single thought spent on Felix - all too appreciative for friends. Until you got back to the dorms, that is. You'd been there all of an hour before there was a knock at the door and when Cassandra opened it, she glanced up and down the hall in confusion, not seeing anyone - but a bouquet of flowers caught her attention.

"Well, this is cute," she mused, picking up the flowers from the floor and closing the door. "Someone left flowers? Ew, bet they're from Jason - he's been begging me to get back together."

You didn't bother reminding her they were the same Felix always sent you. You just nodded and said they must've indeed been for her since nobody knew when you were coming back. Yet something in your stomach churned, knowing this was no coincidence, you knew they were from Felix, and the idea made you oddly... Warm.

You didn't want to be touched by the small gesture, but it was sweet. Reminded you of the good times between you and Fi. You felt your guts twist, realizing how much you missed him. None the less, you never said a word.

The following day was as normal as it could've been. People were looking both happy to see you and exhausted from prep work before final exams. You understood, having completed yours; all that was left was to write up a report to your dean and other department heads and present it. You spent your days in the library while everyone was in class, and while there, you were surprised to see Felix hunched over a set of books.

You didn't approach him, just chose a separate table and got comfortable. You were in the zone for a solid hour before a shadow loomed over you, making you jump when a hand met your shoulder. "Sorry, sorry," Felix rushed, hands held in defense. "Just thought I'd give you this - you seemed really focused."

You blinked when he set a blueberry muffin down. The gesture made you smile, "You remembered?"

For every study session, you had a blueberry muffin to munch on.

"'Course I do," he nodded rapidly. "Remember everything about you, love. And these were always your favorite, right?"

"Yeah," you breathed. "Uh, thanks, Fi, this was nice of you."

"Seemed really focused, wanted to make sure you ate," he half-smiled. "I didn't mean to interrupt, uh, j-just wanted t'say good luck on your presentation."

Your heart clenched when he walked away back to his table, not once looking up at you as he worked. He really only meant to give you the muffin, which surprised you - Felix was terribly persistent, and for some reason, you actually felt sad that he wasn't vying for your attention or forgiveness.

This felt like a reality check, reminding you that you were truly broken up. So, you just sniffled and focused again, nibbling on the muffin as you revised your report. You hated the tension, the distance, the disturbing idea that while gone, he had been with countless other girls. You especially hated that you began regretting leaving for a year, feeling as if you created this situation by leaving room for Felix to seek attention elsewhere.

You knew it wasn't the truth - this wasn't your fault. You weren't the one who decided to implode your relationship, to be unfaithful in the least bit; and seeking higher educational opportunity wasn't grounds for anyone to cheat. It felt entirely unfair; you were in the same position as Felix, alone in another country, missing your friends and family, and yet, YOU never sought attention - emotional or physical - in any way from anyone else.

You at least had a sense of loyalty. But at the same time, you tried to validate that this was "the best years of your lives" and Felix was a young, hot, rich boy. Why wouldn't he bask in the attention of others? He always had and it felt wrong to crucify him for being a lad with hormones.

You began to wonder, did you overreact? Of course you didn't!

But you missed him immensely.

For the three weeks left in the semester, Felix would leave flowers at your dorm room, brought you little treats, never impeded on your space, and just made himself known without being overwhelming. You thought it was endearing without giving him too much credit after his betrayal. For three weeks, he was sweet, kind, soft spoken, and from what you understood, turned reclusive - refusing any party invitation, even backing out of pub meetings.

He wasn't hanging with friends, drinking, distracted with girls. According to local gossip, if you could put stock into the words, this new behavior started right after Christmas; after your very public break-up.

You were mildly intrigued by his change of attitude, but didn't confront it. You felt distance was necessary for healing, yet there was no denying your love that still festered - and maybe, the idea that Felix was truly remorseful and loved you, too.

It all came to a cultivation on the day of your presentation. To say you were nervous was an understatement - pacing the entire night before, going over what you were going to say, making final revisions; driving Cassandra up the wall, but she was still supportive.

That morning, she left early for her own ventures, but made sure to help you pick out an outfit. It was something smart, it complimented your figure in a professional manner and made you feel powerful and like a "real" adult.

You packed your bag and walked to your college's lecture hall, getting there about 20 minutes early to set up your materials and run through your notes one last time. When your dean and other professors entered to settle in their seats at the front, you heard the upper backdoor open. When you looked up, you were shocked - like, actually shocked - to see Felix sitting up there with Cassandra, Farleigh, your parents and sister.

You tried not to dwell on their presence, but suddenly, knowing Felix was there to support you, you didn't feel so nervous anymore. Something about his viewing of your final project made you a little more confident, quelling your nausea as you cleared your throat and started your oral presentation that had a guided visual and 20-page report.

When you finished, you were grinning. Your deans applauded you, and from the back, so did your friends and family; in fact, Felix was on his feet, clapping with vigor. You handed over the flash-drive that housed your visuals and then your bound essay report, shaking the professors hands, and letting them leave.

When you turned, your family had descended the auditorium stairs and your friends were trailing after.

"Oh, you brilliant girl!" Your father gushed, wrapping you in a huge hug. "My perfect, most special girl! That was amazing!"

"Thanks, Daddy," you giggled. "What're you guys doing here?"

"Oh, Felix called," your mother informed, petting hair off your shoulder in a calming motion. "Glad he did, we're so proud of you."

"I didn't even know peers could sit in," you admitted.

"Apparently, they're not, but you know, Felix has a way with rules," your father sighed, shaking his head in amusement. "Thank God you got your mother's intelligence, fear you'd be shit outta luck if you had mine, eh?"

This triggered a round of other compliments from your loved ones; sister and Cassandra both beaming at you in pride, everyone offering their compliments on specific sections of your presentation to prove they really, truly had been listening. You felt bashful, waving them off out of embarrassment, and then you agreed to attend dinner for a celebration - your mother informing you that the summer would be spent in a French villa and details were to be discussed at the meal. But first, you noticed Felix still sitting high up in the lecture hall and promised you meet everyone at the dorm later.

When the hall cleared, you sighed and slowly made your way up to where Felix lingered; his form fidgeting nervously the closer you got. You dropped to the seat beside him with a deep sigh, ready to confront everything, when he offered a decently large bouquet of familiar flowers. "Congrats, love," he whispered. "Was really well-done, even if I didn't know half of what you were sayin'."

You accepted the flowers, petting the petals gingerly, then asking in a low whisper, "Felix?"

"Yeah, love?"

"Why'd you do it?"

"I know how important this was for you, I asked them all to come so we could support you, knowin' you were nervous - "

"No," you interrupted, turning in your seat to face him. "Why'd you have to go and ruin us? Why wasn't I enough?"

He swallowed thickly, "It wasn't you that wasn't enough."

"Huh?"

"Think I felt insecure," he admitted. "You were at Edinburgh, bettering yourself and I think I got scared that you'd love it there so much, you know, that... You'd leave. Leave Oxford, leave England, leave... Me. So, I just... I don't have any excuse, honestly, love. I know I fucked up, but I think my fear was being projected in the worst way..."

You nodded, "Do you regret it?"

"Every fuckin' day."

"Any plans for tonight?"

"What?" He blinked in shock.

"You wanna come to dinner with us? I mean, you went through the trouble of gettin' everyone here - and I know you must've bribed someone to let them watch."

His cheeks reddened, chuckling nervously, "It wasn't... I didn't... All right, yeah, I had to pay off the custodian - he unlocked the door for us."

"Mhm," you smirked. "So? Dinner?"

"Are you sure?"

You nodded, "You made a mistake... A huge one, but a mistake none the less. We've had time apart, and I've learned, I don't want to be without you. My life is far more interesting with you in it and I feel less alone. So, if you want, I'd like for you to come to dinner with us, maybe work on our friendship again. See where things go?"

"As long as you're okay with it."

"I'm the one inviting you, yes, I'm okay with it," you chuckled at his nerves, standing, and offering your hand. "C'mon, Mum says we're spending the summer in France - maybe we can convince her to invite you, too."

"Doubt Cassandra would let that happen," Felix mused, shouldering his bag and taking your hand - instantly lacing your fingers together.

"Oh, on the contrary, she might like it; it'd give her something to do."

"What's that? Makin' me her personal punching bag?"

"Exactly," you grinned, squeezing his hand.

"Hey," he paused you before you could exit the auditorium, looking sadder than when his dog died; bottom lip gently trembling. "I just... I need you t'know, I'm really fuckin' sorry, love. I was an absolute idiot, I fucked this up - broke your trust. I regret nothing more, I was such a fuckin' arsehole, and I don't want to be without you, either. I realized I'm not myself without you, that me without you doesn't feel right - "

"Hey," you halted his rambling, "I can't tell you it's okay, Fi, because it's not, but your atonement is appreciated. We've been friends for so long, I don't think I want to walk away entirely - so, let's just go slow and figure our shit out." He nodded in agreement, letting you lead the way, smirking when you cheekily told him, "Mh, bit of advice though? You could try to get in good graces by payin' for dinner tonight."

"Done and done," he eased, releasing your hand to hang his arm around your shoulders, and just like old times, you raised your hand to lace with his, other wrapping around his waist. The smile didn't fall from Felix's face all night, and by the end of the night, had arranged to stay with your family that summer - Oliver Quick and what could've been a summer at Saltburn far from his mind.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[flowerandblood]

The Void of the Sky

[ canon • Ettore x doctor's assistant • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, smut, angst, domination kink, aggressive behavior, rape attempts, violence, swearing, unprotected sex, description of wounds ]

[ description: Ettore decides to take part in a space experiment from which he guesses he will never return. Already on the ship, his attention is drawn to a young girl who turns out to be the assistant of the fucked-up doctor Dibs. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension. ]

Author's note: This is my first story with Ettore, which was inspired by a request, it was supposed to be just a oneshot. This was very strange and disturbing to write, let me know if you would like further parts describing the story of this couple!

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He already knew this when he sat in this fucking ship, when he saw her in front of him – her tired, terrified gaze, her resignation, her fear. She looked at him as if believing that no matter what he had done in the past he understood her and what she was experiencing, that they were going through what was about to happen to them together.

What they were doomed to.

They glanced at each other all the way to the space station from which they were to fly away never to return. He watched her wordlessly – her long lashes, her pleasantly rounded cheeks, her plump, puffy lips glistening in the disturbing blue light.

He thought, looking boredly around the ship at the other female faces, that if he had to choose which one he would fuck first, he would choose her.

She was pretty, her figure girlish, she seemed fragile to him – he decided that he would easily squash her to the mattress or the floor, one or two punches of his fist on that soft face and she would let him do to her whatever he wanted.

He knew that, like him, all the crew members selected for the mission were criminals sentenced to life imprisonment and he wondered what such an inconspicuous person could have done.

Perhaps she was not as vulnerable as she seemed to him at first glance.

He grinned involuntarily at the thought, deciding that he needed to find out.

How much force he would have to put in to get her to finally stop resisting him, whether he would have to hit her face with his fist until she lost consciousness, making her look like a squashed tomato, or whether it would be enough for him to choke her a little, ordering her to shut up the fuck.

He sighed quietly, tilting his head back, feeling a pleasant pulsing in his cock at the thought, recognising that sooner or later he would put his plan into action.

He was patient.

As it turned out, she wasn't a regular crew member, but an assistant to Dr Dibs, that dumb whore playing God, who on top of that announced that there was a complete prohibition on sexual intercourse on the spaceship.

He would come into their office to give his sperm just to look at her; while Dr Dibs was sitting over the microscope, apparently selecting the most fertile ova, she was writing something, obviously taking notes, always looking at him when he came in – he would grin involuntarily, wondering if she had heard the smack of his hand against his balls while he was jerking off.

As he left, handing Dibs the vessel, he always looked at her, but she no longer bestowed a single glance on him, frustrating him.

"I want my treat." He growled in her direction, wishing she would bestow at least one fucking look on him and not act like a spoiled little bitch, but it was Dibs who would give him the pill, which he would immediately put in his mouth, not taking his eyes off her as he left.

He knew she sensed what he wanted to do to her and was prepared for it.

It was a simple, animal, primal need.

He could satisfy it with anyone or by himself, but he always came back to her anyway.

To his displeasure, it turned out that her position for some reason came with additional privileges, such as a separate cabin in which she slept.

She did not have to clean or tend the garden, her duties being limited to taking notes, treating wounds and overseeing the energy system of the entire spaceship.

She was the opposite of Dr Dibs and her cool sociopathy – he knew that on several occasions she had helped the female part of the crew to get rid of the unwanted effect of her experiment.

Once, while wiping the floor on his knees, he witnessed Dibs slap her, apparently realizing that she was acting behind her back.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Don't you ever do that again. Do you understand? Your job is to make reports." She hissed, digging her finger into her chest – she snorted under her breath, staring at her with pity and moved ahead.

"You will never become a mother." She said calmly, walking past him, throwing him one intense look before disappearing behind the door of her cabin.

He watched her like a predator, her routine, her habits – he knew exactly her schedule, hours and days of the week when she replaced Dibs in her duties.

One day, knowing that she would be alone and the rest of the crew were busy with their tasks, he left the garden and headed for her office, deciding that this was the day.

He stood in the doorway without making a sound, simply looking at her, her back turned to him, bent over some pills which she was obviously sorting.

He approached her silently, his large hand muffling the scream of surprise that broke from her throat – he cursed loudly as she, with a swift, sure movement, stabbed his arm with a scalpel which she apparently had hidden in the pocket of her medical apron.

He let her go, enraged, pulling the blade out of his arm with a hiss and slapped her across the face with all his might. She fell to the ground as if stunned and stupefied – with a brutal movement he flipped her onto her back and crushed her with his body, trying to slide down his trousers.

"− don't you fuckin' dare −" He growled, grabbing her quickly by the wrist in which she held another scalpel. He snatched it forcibly from between her fingers and threw it far to the floor with a clang of steel, his hands quickly searched her pockets for other sharp objects – he grinned under his breath as he felt a razor blade under his fingertips.

"− I see you've prepared well, hm? − like to struggle a bit first? −" He asked with some kind of amusement while she drew in the air loudly and slammed him on the head with her forehead using all her strength – he growled with rage and punched her in the face with his fist, clenching his fingers on her cheeks, a big red bruise under her eye.

She didn't scream or lash out, she just looked at him, breathing hard, trying to push him away – he wondered how there was so much fucking strength and will to fight in such a small petite being.

"− Ettore, for fuck's sake − use the box −" She growled angrily, feeling him rub his swollen erection between her thighs, an impatient, loud sigh of pleasure escaped his lips.

"− I prefer your cunt − tight and warm −" He gasped as he grabbed the material of her panties with an aggressive, sure motion of his fingers, ripping them off in one violent stroke – she surprised him when she lifted herself up and bit his cheek as hard as if she wanted to bite off a big piece of his skin.

"− FUCK − FUCK − LET GO, YOU FUCKIN' WHORE! −" He groaned hitting her on the head with his open palm – he heard a scream behind him a moment later, Dibs and Monte ran into the office, dragging him away.

She was lying on her back breathing heavily, looking at him and shook her head disapprovingly, as if he was a small disobedient child, her lips red with his blood.

"− let him go, Monte −" She said softly, adjusting the material of her skirt, Dr Dibs helped her up and looked at him tightening her lips, her brow furrowed in disapproval.

"− fucking animal − you're prohibited from using the box for five days −" Dibs ordered, and he snarled under his breath, pulling himself out of Monte's grasp and left, calling her a stupid old cunt under his breath, rubbing his sore cheek.

Small wounds in the shape of her teeth remained on his face for the next few days, making him realize that the matter would not be as easy as he thought.

She was unpredictable.

Just like him.

He would annoy and provoke Monte and Tcherny to get into a fight with them only to have them beat the crap out of him, and he would end up at her door with cut lips, bruises and other injuries that she was obliged to take care of.

She did this, but she always strapped him to the doctor's chair first, tightening special black belts around his wrists, attached to the whole structure at the sides of his body so that he couldn't touch her.

His manhood throbbed greedily in his trousers as she leaned over him, her face calm and focused, sad, her hand holding cotton swabs soaked in antiseptic liquid to gently wash his swollen, sore wounds.

She never used latex gloves, as if she was thus allowing him at least a little intimacy, the touch of her naked body.

He pressed his cheek to her palm, closing his eyes, and she froze for a moment, letting him feel the warmth and softness of her skin – she smelled of soap, her fingers long and delicate, made only for admiration, not defence.

He sighed when she stroked his cheek with her thumb, not opening his eyes – he could feel her looking at him, her warm breath enveloping his face.

"You have to stop." She said quietly, but her soft fingers didn't stop brushing his face. They ran over it like a map, touching his mouth, nose, cheeks, eyebrows, jaw so gently and tenderly that he just fell asleep – he thought he felt her warm, moist lips pressed against his forehead for a moment.

When he woke up, he was already unstrapped, there was no one in the office.

Eventually he began to come to her for no reason, circling around the doctor's office pretending with curiosity to look at what stood on the shelves and in the cabinets – he saw out of the corner of his eye that there were always a few scalpels lying next to her on the desk, just in case.

"You shouldn't be here." She sighed, bent over her notes as usual. He hummed under his breath, glancing at one of the containers filled with pills – he shook it, and they clattered loudly inside.

"You don't take part in these fucked-up experiments of Dibs. You don't use the box. Why?" He asked casually, putting his hands in the pockets of his red trousers, turning and heading towards the gynaecology chair, looking at it intrigued.

"I prefer the touch of my own hand. It's soft and warm." She replied calmly, writing something down quickly.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, wondering whether or not she would have had time to grab a scalpel in her hand if he had stepped behind her and knocked her over along with the chair.

"What about the touch of someone else's hand? Hm?" He grunted, heading towards her, but she stood up; he stopped seeing that her hand immediately reached for the blade and clamped down on it confidently, her breasts rising and falling in accelerated breath.

"No." She said warningly.

"I think about it every day, you know? About what I would do to you, how wet your pussy would be for me. Cuz I know you're wet now. Always lookin' at me with those big fuckin' puppy eyes." He muttered, making another attempt, walking forward with a slow, lazy step, her hand holding the blade raised.

"Put it the fuck down. We'll do it either your way or my way. No third option. Take of your panties. C'mon." He encouraged her with a nod, not pulling his hand out of his trousers, his swollen, throbbing cock clearly outlined against the material of his pants.

She stared at him in disbelief, breathing loudly – he bit his bottom lip seeing that she lowered her hand slowly, her gaze scared and distrustful, full of doubt.

"We'll do it my way." She mumbled quietly.

"Fine." He replied indifferently, feeling that he was completely hard, waiting for her move.

He watched as she flicked sheets of paper off her desk with her free hand, sitting down on it, still holding the scalpel in her other hand.

"Come." She said softly, spreading her thighs wide – he approached her, without asking pulling her shoes off her feet, sliding the material of her underwear off her thighs, his movements confident and swift.

He stood in front of her, with a nimble flick of his fingers releasing his swollen, throbbing erection from under his trousers and drew her to him, putting his arm around her waist – she placed her hand on his chest, her lips parted slightly, her gaze hazy and dark, her body trembling in his embrace.

"− don't be brutal − take it slow −" She muttered in a shaky voice, and he only snorted under his breath with a grin, recognising that he had waited so long for this that he could actually enjoy the moment, feeling that he wouldn't last long anyway.

He grasped his manhood in his hand giving it a few sure, quick squeezes and guided its pink, thick head against her entrance, glistening from her wetness in the red light.

They both sighed as he began to push into her, doing so at an agonising pace from which they both closed their eyes, her fleshy insides hot and tight, pulsing all around him, sucking him inside.

"− ah − yes −" She whispered and he licked his lips, forcing her to fit it all in with deep, slow thrust of his fat cock, his large palms digging into the pleasantly soft skin of her plump buttocks as she mewled from exertion.

"− fuck −" She mumbled, obviously surprised by his size and how shocking the sensation was after such a long period of sexual abstinence, his manhood all sticky with her moisture.

She put her arms around his neck as he slid out of her slowly almost all the way, only to sink again into her warm walls with a calm, unhurried motion of his hips, both of them watching as his swollen length spread her wide open.

"− fuckin' knew it − just look at it − such a perfect little pussy −" He purred out delighted with the sensation, never having done it this way before in his life, his cock twitched all over with pleasure deep inside her, making him know he wouldn't last long.

Although he could just take what he wanted, he liked what he felt, the heat and tension wonderfully filling his lower abdomen each time the thrust of his hips forced him inside her warm, pulsing core again.

He pressed his forehead against hers when he heard her first shy moans, running his lips over hers, puffy, moist and soft, not giving her full kisses, speeding up suddenly, their naked bodies smacking against each other with loud, sticky splats.

"− oh God −" She whimpered, stroking his neck and cheeks. She burshed his lips tentatively, looking up at him with dreamy eyes as his cock slammed deep into her delicate body again and again – he grabbed her by the hair with one hand, tilting her head back with a brutal movement of his arm.

"− when you need to fuck, you will come to me − if I catch you touching yourself, you'll suck my cock until you start chokin' on my cum, that's how many times I'm going to come down your throat − got it? −" He exhaled in between sure, deep, aggressive thrusts, his cock rooting into her faster and faster with loud slaps of his naked thighs against her buttocks, barely slipping out of her – he felt her clench hard on him at his words, giving him a wonderful squeeze from which he groaned low.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled, responding to his thrusts by bucking her hips out towards him – he snorted, smirking spitefully, somehow impressed by her devotion, his thighs all sticky from her moisture.

"− that's my girl − fuck, 'm close −" He gasped in delight, pounding into her like mad, the tips of his fingers digging into her hot, firm buttocks.

"− n-no, not inside me! −" She mewled out but he closed her mouth with his, forcing his tongue deep into her throat, muffling her moans, clamping his hands firmly on her ass so she couldn't escape him, cumming with a loud sigh of relief, his warm semen spilling deep inside her.

She cried out in rage and slapped his shoulder, clenching her eyes shut, coming hard on his cock. He felt convulsions run through her whole body, her walls began to clench against him and suck him inside – he kept pounding into her for a while with sloppy, messy thrusts of his hips.

He pushed her closer to him with a brutal gesture, embracing her around the waist, his other hand holding her hair so that her puffy, sweet lips didn't pull away from his, kissing her lazily for a while longer, continuing to rock inside her with the lewd click of their shared moisture.

He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard, looking at her with curiosity and satisfaction, thinking that perhaps they would find common ground after all.

"− see you tomorrow − and no fuckin' touching −"

_____

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