#I laughed SO HARD at the beginning of your ask

[goldsbitch]

the last time I pick you up

Moving blues hits hard. Y/N and Lando are finally letting go of her old apartment, which brings out strong emotions, that you need to burn out somehow.

warning: smut, no protection

It's been long time coming - finally moving together after countless times of flipping a coin to determine which apartment you and Lando would spend your free hours and sometimes even days.

His place was spacious and the location was obviously the biggest asset. But god, was it close to an empty wasteland. True "lad's" apartment, up to a point you were surprised he had a bed (without a bed frame, of course...). Your place was a true home - decorations, pillows, candles and full stacked skincare. Even though it lacked in size and the plumbing was more than questionable, it had a soul and you'd poured loved into your rented apartment over the time you'd spend there.

However, it was becoming clear that your relationship stable and secure enough to get rid of one side of the logistics equation that was dating a racing driver.

So, moving it was. They say moving is one of the most stressful mundane experience in one's life and you couldn't agree more. You were stripped of the usual duties, because Lando insisted about him paying for premium movers and you didn't object for more than 30 seconds.

But the sentimental "last visit" is something you can't pay someone to do for you. The walk through the memory lane was all up to you.

After few hours you were almost done sorting things out into two piles, one would join you in Lando's apartment, the other one was being left behind for someone else to get over to a charity shop.

When Lando finally came to pick you up, he found you sitting on the floor, knee deep in the cocktail of conflicting emotions.

"Baby? You here?" he called before entering the living room. You looked up at him, weak tears rolling in you eyes, unable to speak at first.

Lando stopped when he saw you, surprised at finding you sitting on the floor like that and then immediately went to sit sit next to you and hug you.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked, half concerned, half confused.

You tried to surpress the wet drops in your eyes. This was stupid anyway, right? After few moments of Lando's confused look and his hand on your cheek, you finally looked back at him.

"This is the last time you pick me up here," you said in a low tone and it was like you took the lid of your memories.

The first night he spent here, the first one you talked through, unable to stop the conversation, the many nights he fucked you senselessly and hours spent cuddling under the bedsheets.

The way how this apartment provided you a safe space in the first weeks when you dated, hidden safely from the harsh judgy look the public imposed on you so cruelly at the beginning.

You got to know him here. Waited impatiently many times for his key to finally click in the front door, his tired post-race face, often still holding marks from his helmet, because he would jump on the plane the first thing, just get back to you for few hours. You remember how you laughed, when he insisted on installing his weird neck exercise device, because it meant he could spend more time with you. He tried to teach you how to assist him, and then laughed at you, because you were just so naturally bad at this stuff.

You recall the one afternoon when you came back from a meeting and found him sitting in your bathtub, which was filled up with slowly melting ice-cubes. His argument was, that he needed a post work out ice bath and there was nothing like that around where you lived. This time it was you who laughed, when you saw how much ice he had to buy. Lando was a cheeky guy, so once he got out of the ice bath, he chased you around your apartment, naked, with the intention to snuggle you into his cold, icy embrace.

Lando was taken back by the glassy look in your stoic face. "I know. But, if you look at it from a different perspective, this is the last time I pick you up. From now on, we'll be meeting at our home." He spoke slowly, perhaps to make his words more impactful.

You smiled, knowing well enough that was the best part of it. Still, the melancholy lingered in stronger way then you'd have ever expected.

"No more of that weird lady upstairs who always gave me angry looks after I fucked you hard," he tried to lighten up the mood, which worked and you let out a snort laugh while wiping small tears from your cheeks.

"Yeah, I am definitely not going to miss that," you said, yet still there was a sense of leaving a part of your life behind, a part that you would adorn for the rest of your life. The only hope you had that you and Lando would be able to continue on making priceless memories anywhere the two of you were.

"Y/N, I think it's time to finish sorting the stuff out and grab something to eat. We can go that favorite café of yours," he suggested after few moments of silence.

You took a deep breath. "Yes, I'd love that," you turned to him and gave a light peck on his lips. Lando immediately turned that into a deep french kiss, which took you by surprise a little. He was never a words person and you could finally feel from the way how he kissed you so eagerly, that he was also emotional about this move.

"You're the love of my life," you said the signature sentence you two developed naturally, instead of saying a simple I love you.

"And you're mine," he responded with the signature assurance that followed that sentence.

//

The two of you slowly arrived to the point where most of the stuff was sorted, decisions were made and it was time to say goodbye.

A shock of sudden anxiety ran through you. "Lando. I still don't have the necklace." He knew well enough which one you were talking about. It was the first one he ever gave you and one that you held so dearly that it made him proud. But still, in his eyes it was just an object. One that you misplaced and could not find for weeks now.

"It's probably at my apartment anyway," he said, trying to let you go of it. He already had a replacement ordered anyway.

"Let me just check under the bed. Haven't looked there yet," you said and strolled over to the now stripped bed. He watched you, as you bent over in your cute summer dress that casually showed the curve of your ass as you searched under the bed. There was something so primal for him about seeing you like that.

"Y/N, you know this is a very dangerous move from your part, right?" he said, leaning over the door frame and enjoying the view.

"Come on, Lando," you laughed, as you desperately kept looking for the necklace, with no luck whatsoever. "This is serious."

"Oh, I never said anything different," he smirked, letting his thoughts run into one place and one place only.

"Omg, Lando!" you screamed, in a very different tone, alerting him immediately.

"What?" he asked, tuning into your worry. You got up with a horrified face, as if you'd just seen a ghost. Unable to speak, you just stared at him.

"What?" he repeated, less seriously this time. Knowing you, it must have been nothing.

"Oh my god, I am going to get in so much trouble with the landlord!"

He looked at you sheepily. "Do I have to look there myself or are you going to tell me?"

You closed your eyes. "The floor is like severely damaged. We're talking like, deep marks. Under all of the corners of the bed."

It took him a second to get the dots connected before his eyes went wide and the smarted smug appeared on his face. "Really?" he said proudly. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. He sneaked around you and took a quick look under the nearest bed corned.

"Ohoo, nice!," he laughed, even more proud than before. "This is from us, right?"

His smugness was a little contagious, you had to admit it. "Of course, who else Lando. In fact, that's your damage, so you're paying for it!"

He choked, taking few steps towards you. "Oh am I?"

You bit your lip, as he closed of your exit with his right arm, putting on the door frame and pushing you towards it. "Yes, you are...It's from you moving the bed."

The mood changed really quickly. You knew the look in his face well enough. He was shooting arrows, making your heartbeat faster, breath shorter and mind suddenly focused on one thing and one thing only. Having him, all the way in, wrapped around and inside of you. He pulled your chin up with his thumb and subconsciously mirror your lip biting. At this point, you were completely pushed to the door frame, his torso pulling into your. "Well, if I'm already paying for damages, I think I deserve to make it count, one last time," he said and moved his hand over to your chest, causing you to let out a breath out. He knew well enough what kind of an effect he had on you. Few moments of painfully arousing eye contact and you finally put your hands behind his neck and kissed him again. With the energy only young adults have, he twisted his tongue with yours, bit your lip gently and in the meantime picked you up and moved you the short distance over to the bed. Your thoughts were all wrapped up around how great his body felt, how his intoxicated smell completely clouded your mind and how you'll get to have him on this old bed of yours for one last time.

He didn't even bother taking your dress off, he just pushed it up and started working you up with his fingers. This high he gave you was a familiar ground at this point. And most possibly your absolutely most favorite place on this planet. While sharing messy kisses and loosing yourself in the growing pleasure, you went to unbuckle his belt and stroke him slowly. He didn't wait long before he pulled back to take his shorts off and you finally had full access. You stroked him few times, before he pinned your arms above your head. "My bills, my playground," he said and his hands began to roam your body all the way down to the hem of your dress. He didn't even bother taking your underwear off, just pushed it to the side and slid into you, like he had hundreds times before. Flashes of the countless encounters you've had on this bed flashed like a film in your mind. You loved this man. He was the ultimate drug for you. Intoxicating above levels you could have ever imagined. If there ever was a home, if was right there - with him inside you. He pushed slowly few times before finally slamming into you full speed, full force, knowing well enough it was what you craved anyway. Hot breath was only cut with the symphony your soft moans and sounds the squeaky bed made. Lando held your legs pressed up to your stomach, while you hugged your chest, making your tits pushed up for him to kiss occasionally. You reached your high twice before he released himself onto your dress and collapsed next to you. Short of breath, the two of you still kissed. "Sorry for the dress," he said apologetically and you had to laugh a little. For this feeling you'd stain anything you ever owned.

"I know you have a thing for leaving traces behind, baby," you replied, being guilty of using this little kink of his to your advantage many times in the past.

He bit his lip and brushed his nose agains yours. "Guilty as charged."

Your breath was slowly coming back to a regular tempo. "I should get changed before we go," you said, intent on leaving soon.

His hand locked you in as he traced lined on your hips. "Let's stay just a little. I'm going to miss the way how we made this bed squeaky over time," he said, making you smile and blush.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #lando norris smut #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot #lando norris imagine #f1 smut #ln4 smut #formula 1 smut

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Stoner!Choso x reader

Cw: smut

My stoner Choso is a loser and I love him like this 🤧

“You look stressed,” Choso says, looking at you as he leaned against his car. “It was a stressful day,” you retorted, leaning against his car right next to him. He gives you a small smile as he takes a hit from the blunt between his fingers. 

You and Choso were friends. Really close friends. That was it. Both of you too scared to even say anything for the sake of your friendship. You were okay with this, he liked hanging out with you and so did you. But sometimes you catch yourself thinking, what would it be like to be more.  To be his. Would your relationship really change? You both already acted so much like a couple. 

The blunt comes slowly down from his lips, he looks over to you and smirks. You knew what he was about to do. “NO” you say suddenly, as he comes closer to blow the smoke in your face. “Ew, Cho. You know I hate that shit,” you remark as you try to waft the smoke out of your face. “I know,” he replies with a deep chuckle with no amount of remorse. “Want a hit?” he quickly asks, holding up the blunt. You think for a good few seconds but, obviously too long for how impatient Choso is because he’s already holding the blunt to your mouth already. “Go,” he encourages you as you begin inhaling. “Woah, woah slow down,” he smirks, removing the blunt from your lips. He watches you attentively as you exhale, studying your face as you glare at him. “I don’t like that,” you say with a small cough. 

He gives you a shit-eating grin before he takes another hit. “Wanna hear music then? Might help you relax,” he looks over to you once again exhaling the smoke. “I guess,” you say as you watch him walk over to the driver's side to turn on the car. He shifts through songs until he finds one he's sure you'd both like. “This good?” he asks as he hops out of the car. As you nod he sticks his hand out to you. “What?” you laugh. “Dance with me,” he requests. You can’t help but think how cute he looks, like a puppy with those big brown eyes begging you. “You’re high,” you scoff, giving him a smile. “No…” he grins again, taking your hands and pulling you closer into him.

You dance together, both of you high out of your minds with clumsy steps. Stepping on his feet more than you’d liked to admit, but you still notice the way he looks at you. His eyes half closed, slightly red, gazing intently at you. Lips slightly chapped and parted, his hair down, head slightly tilted as you feel him leaning in closer and closer into you. Your heart beats faster as you become more conscious of his hands. Wrapped tightly around your waist, almost as if he is afraid you’ll run away from him. 

And before you know it, you're making out with him against his car. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers threading through his soft brown strands, while his hands gently trace any exposed skin he can find as his other hand holds your thigh up, pulling you closer to him. Kisses growing hotter and more needy, he can’t help but slowly grind into you. Desperate for some type of friction against his hard-on and you gladly meet his sudden movements. Bodies pressed together as they move in a rhythmic motion, unable to stop the urge to get closer to each other. Choso leaves your lips with a small tug. “More… more please,” he buries his head in the crook of your neck. 

Placing small kisses on your neck, you can’t help but give into him. Especially once you’re in his car, windows all fogged up, and his fingers deep inside you. “So pretty f’me” he coos as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “Does.. does it feel good?” he hesitantly asks. “Yes, yes, so good cho.” As you make his confidence spike with your praise, he turns you over so you're now face to face sitting on him. “Please, can you please ride me?” he begs you, flashing you once again those big brown eyes. And who are you to deny this pretty boy… 

“Fu- fuck… baby,” Choso whines, trying to buck his hips up into you. “Wait, be patient cho,” you line up his cock to your entrance and slowly move down onto him. “So pretty,” Choso gawks at you as his hands come up to your tits. A string of curses escape your mouth as you finally take him all. His hands wrap around you to keep you in place as your back arches. “Can I move inside you now?” he asks, confusion spreading across your face. “I’m supposed to move…” you question. His hands quickly grip at the flesh on your hips. 

“Can’t” thrust “Wait” thrust. 

Choso loses control and continues to thrust into you roughly. Moving his hands to your ass, he lifts you up and down on his cock. Your tits bouncing in his face with every hard thrust. Without a second thought, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Tongue skillfully swirling around it as he sucks it, still pumping into you relentlessly. He's left you speechless, all you could do was moan at the way he was using you. One of his hands from your ass comes up.

Smack

His hand comes down hard on your ass. He does it a few more times, each slapping leaving a slight red mark on your hot flesh. Still pounding you merciless, he attaches his lips to you once again. “M’so close… so close” he mumbles through the kiss. “Can I cum please?” he groans as you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Fuck, you’re getting so tight,” he whines and you could almost swear you see tears if it wasn’t so damn dark. You finally give him a nod as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. A chant of thank you’s fly out his mouth.

“Thank you.. thank.. you,” he whimpers as he fills you up. His warm cum mixing with your wetness, attempting to drip down your thighs. Both of you panting heavily as he pulls out. Choso’s chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. “Can.. can i taste you?”

Your jaw drops slightly as his sudden request. “You want to eat me out? After how hard you just fucked me?” you ask as you take notice of his little grin. 

Somehow he managed to lay you down… as comfortably as he could and went to town. Burying his face between your legs. His tongue flick up and down, tasting you. Lapping up both your arousal and his own cum. “So.. greedy cho,” you tease him, watching how pussy drunk he’s  getting. “I love.. love.. love so much,” he hums into your cunt, sending vibrations through it. 

“You talking to my pussy or me?” you laugh softly and you tangle your fingers through his hair. “Both..” he mumbles, refusing at all to come up for air. He continues to fuck you with his tongue. Eating you out as if you were his last meal. He notices as you arch your back, quickly picking up the pace because he knew you were so close. “Cum on my face.. please,” he groans. And you do just that. You cream all over his pretty face. “You taste so good,” he whispers, feeling his hot breath on your pussy. He looks down at his work, admiring how fucked out you look. He helps you sit back up, being as gentle as he could be. “Look, we made my windows all foggy,” he smiles as his finger comes up to draw a heart. “You’re so dumb,” you giggle. 

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso #choso smut #jjk choso #choso kamo smut #stoner choso #choso jjk #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #choso x you #choso x female reader #choso x y/n

[sweetbans29]

Feud - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin navigate a long-standing basketball feud (based on THIS, THIS, and THIS request)

Warnings: mentions of injury, slight angst, happy ending

Word Count: 4.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am saying this now, I do not think I will be doing a part 2 for this. Not anywhere in the near future at least.

If someone were to tell you by your senior year of high school you would have a rivalry going on between you and some girl from Iowa, you would call them crazy.

You grew up in Southern California - attending Mater Dei High School and playing ball year-round. You were looked at as one of the most promising college recruits alongside girls like Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark. As exciting as it is to be named alongside these girls - it also came with its challenges.

The media caught wind that you were talking to Iowa. Talking initially all about how Iowa was going to be a powerhouse of a team having both you and Caitlin. When you announced that you committed to South Carolina - that is when they immediately pitted the two of you against each other.

It was all funny to you since you had never met the girl. You were encouraged to not look into what the media was saying but there were times that just wasn't possible. You saw how they compared the two of you - never showing the full truth. Even in the facts, they would only take bits and pieces of it and try to show the world how one was better than the other.

When you got to college - it only got worse. You remember your first game against Iowa. It had been all the media could talk about - seeing you go up against Clark for the first time. You saw headlines that went from saying how you didn't want to live in Caitlin's shadow or how you couldn't keep up with Caitlin's growth. Other headlines talked about how she hated you so much that she made you choose a different state to go to school. All of it was a load of bull in your opinion.

At your first game against the Hawkeyes, you were more nervous about all the talk surrounding you and Caitlin than the game itself. You couldn't get the last headline out of your head - 'Caitlin Clark to run circles around SC's freshman'.

"Hey, don't let any of what they are saying get to you," one of your teammates Aliyah says breaking you from the trance you were in.

"Ya, no. I'm good," you say coming back to reality. Aliyah just nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

The team goes and plays an incredible game. You were up at the half and were ready to take the second half which is exactly what you did. It was probably your best game yet and you couldn't be more proud.

At the end of the game, someone comes into your locker room and asks you to step outside. You follow before heading to the pressor to find Caitlin standing in an empty hall.

You are surprised and nervous all of a sudden but make your way over to the girl.

"Hi," you say not really sure what to say.

"Hi," she says back. As if just as nervous as you, she awkwardly extends her hand, "I'm Caitlin." You shake her hand and introduce yourself. She continues.

"I wanted to meet you in person in a controlled environment," she says with a little laugh eluding to hiding your first meeting from the media.

"Ya, they have been sort of insane," you say with a laugh of your own. "You had a really solid game today - I can see why so many people love you." You look at the girl standing before you and see her begin to fidget.

"Me?" She says on the verge of shock. " You dominated that court today - I was having a hard time keeping up with you. If anyone had a solid game it was you." She says.

"Well, thank you CC." You say with a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

"Of course..." She says.

"I am really glad you came here," you begin. "If I'm honest - the media has been a lot recently and I know you are nothing like they are making you out to be. I don't know how you have felt about it but I truly appreciate this gesture. We don't need to be the best of friends, but we don't need to be strangers."

"I like that, although I will never stop trying to beat you on the floor." She says.

"Oh, I expect nothing less. Now knowing you are a sweetheart, I have no problem keeping up this 'feud' the media is creating - it's what the people want." You say playful giving her a little push.

"Oh that won't be hard considering the second we step onto the court my only goal is to bury you into the ground," Caitlin says with a smile. "I am sure we can keep this up and give them what they want with ease. Just know, it is all love off the court."

The two of you exchanged numbers and went on your way. Over the course of the next few years, both of your paths crossed several times. At games, award events, and random camps. Every time the two of you were in the same building the media would eat it up - always posting photos of the two of you giving each other death stares (which never really happened, they just timed it perfectly to make it seem like that or take snippets completely out of context). Since you first met her, the media hasn't taken such a big toll on you. It also helped that she would text you whenever something overly threatening or mean came out. It had you falling for the girl every time - deciding to push the feelings aside, thinking it was just her being sweet.

It was your junior year when things heated up in the media even more than they had in the past. Going into March Madness, all they could talk about was you against Caitlin so much that it brought back all the drama that started when you were going into college. Through it all Caitlin had reached out and reminded you none of it was real. It was very sweet of her.

Your two teams were facing off in the final four and you could not be more prepared.

The game was a close one the entire time - neither team had more of a 5-point lead at any time. It all came down to the final quarter.

Tied going into it - both teams fought to go to the championship game. Two minutes into the quarter things took a turn for the worst.

You were guarding Caitlin - staying vigilant on defense, ensuring she didn't get a good shot. When she went up on a jumper you hit her arm while trying to block the ball drawing the foul. You cursed at yourself for allowing her to go to the free-point line.

She makes the first one with ease and sets back to the line for a second. Everyone anticipates it going in but the second she releases, you can see how her eyes shift as she begins to make her wait for the ball. You cut in front of her, jumping up going for the rebound as she does the same. You get your hand on the ball trying to hold onto it as you make your way down to the ground.

What you weren't expecting was to be shifted so much that when you came down you landed directly on your knee, causing you to let out a murderous scream. Your hands immediately let go of the ball and make their way to the center of the pain - your knee.

The stadium silences immediately - leaving only your cries as you curl up into a ball.

Caitlin - being the closest one to you is hunched over you with her hands on your shoulder while your teammates run to get medical.

"You're okay, you're okay." She keeps muttering as she really doesn't know what to do to comfort you. She knows she is the one who knocked you off balance in the air but never imagined this to happen.

"They are coming," she says trying to restore hope in you.

The medical team comes up and instantly knows they need to get you out of there immediately. They call for a stretcher which comes within seconds of them asking for it. Your eyes are glued shut as you bite the top of your jersey to avoid letting out any more screams.

The pain has blocked out anything and everything happening around you. You can't even remember how it happened, all you know is the centralized pain.

Caitlin watches as they remove you from the floor. She has never been this distressed when it has come to someone leaving the floor due to injury - not even girls from her own team. Cait makes the mistake of looking up at one of the monitors as they replay what happened and tears begin to form on the brim of her eyes as she clearly sees she is the cause of your injury. The media is going to have a field day with this but even more so - all she could think about was how she could ever begin apologizing to you.

Kate makes her way over to the shaking girl and pulls her into a hug.

"That wasn't your fault," she says in her ear. "Don't carry this."

Kate had been the only person on the team who knew the friendship that had been growing into more than Caitlin knew how to put into words. Kate could also see, Cait was very much at fault for what happened but knows how much Caitlin keeps in her head and shouldn't shoulder this right now.

Once you are taken through the tunnel - everyone does the best they can to regroup from the traumatic scene that had just taken place.

Your team was trying to regroup as they had to make adjustments on the court after losing their star player, also just trying to remain composed after seeing and hearing you go down. Kate was trying to get Caitlin to calm down and get her head back in the game. The crowd at this point remained silent until play resumed.

Your team lost to Iowa by 4 and no one could blame them. It was a hard loss but everyone was more concerned what the outcome of your injury would be over the ending of March Madness.

Once you were taken back, they decided it would be best to take you to the ER to get checked out. Shortly after arriving, they determined it was a transverse patella fracture which meant your patella broke into two and it would require surgery to fix if you ever wanted to play again. It was a no-brainer.

The next few days were a whirlwind for you - they kept you in the hospital as they prepped for the surgery and you started recovery after.

Your team came to visit and took turns rotating so you wouldn't be alone. Your manager thought it would be best to stay off of social media which you didn't argue with one bit. The last thing you needed was someone saying how your career was over. You went so far as to get a secondary phone and phone number just to communicate with the team and your family.

Once you were let go from the hospital to recover at home, you finally got your phone back and it was filled with messages. You scanned through them stopping at the one that caught your attention the most.

Phone in hand, you stared at the dozens of missed calls and messages from Caitlin. You clicked into her messages and began to read about how sorry she was and how she wanted you to let her know when you were home. You fought with yourself to listen to all of the voicemails she had left and settled on listening to the last.

You click on it and bring your phone up to your ear.

"Hi," she sounds completely defeated. "I know I have left you countless voicemails but I just really want to see how you are doing. This was never meant to happen - I...I don't know what was supposed to happen but it was not this." You hear the shakey breath that she takes before continuing. "I don't want to keep bugging you if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I wouldn't even be listening to this and would have just deleted it but I know you are better than I am and just pray that this gets to you. That this gets to you before any of the media gets to you or spins the story into something it's not. Not that you owe me anything, but I ask that you don't listen to any of it. Don't do that to yourself because none of it is true. It is all lies that they have spun to their own narrative." She is crying now but does the best she can to cover it up. "This was never supposed to happen, I am so sorry." She struggles out and hangs up.

You imagined the first handful of messages were similar to this one and decided not to listen to them. It wasn't out of anger or resentment but you knew that in order for you to move on you couldn't hang on that moment.

The next few months consisted of recovery. You were determined to come back for your senior year and were going to come back stronger and more prepared than you have ever been. When the season started - you were back to training but weren't jumping back into games until the third week into the season.

Your manager did a really good job of keeping you out of the media - per your request leading up to the season. The first time you were brought back into the light was during your team's first game of the season. You were on the bench - coaching and encouraging your team. It wasn't the first time the media had seen you but the first time they got to talk to you. There were preseason training videos that were released that showed you back in practice but always highlighted other players on your team.

During this first game though, you were going to be mic'd up for a midgame interview.

"We are so excited to have you on the air as your team kicks off the season, can you give us insight on how recovery went for you?"

They were really just jumping in. You let out a little laugh and proceeded to answer the question.

"I am excited to be back - recovery was not easy and challenged me in more ways than I expected it would but I can honestly say it has grown me in more ways than playing would have." You say as your eyes are glued to the game happening in front of you. "That a way Tessa! Get back get back!" You yell to your team.

"We got word that you will be back on the court in a few weeks, are you excited to be playing for your senior year?" Was asked next.

"Of course. I have been itching to get back on the court - YES PAOPAO! AND ONE! - sorry, yes I am ready to get back out there and help my team on the court. We have a single mission and are ready to conquer." You say.

"Does that one mission have anything to do with Caitlin Clark?" One of the anchors asks, curiosity getting the best of them.

You take a second to compose your answer.

"I wish nothing but the best for the girl. She has really elevated the game and visibility of women's sports in general. If our paths cross again, which I can see happening - there are no ill intentions." You say and then give your exit, going back to the game.

Caitlin was watching and couldn't stop replaying the video. You never responded to any of her messages - even the ones that came further along in your recovery. You had cut her off knowing it was what you needed. She couldn't blame you but really wanted to pick up where the two of you left off - during your time of not talking she realized how much she wanted you in her life. You were one of the only people she met with the same mentality as she had and could share in the craziness that the media spat out. You brought out the best in her without even being in the building.

Cait watched you for what felt like the hundredth time and really hoped that your paths would cross this season.

Both of your teams went the whole season without playing the other. This only built the tension for the NCAA tournament. You had jumped seamlessly back in with your team and contributed to their undefeated season. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes fought hard coming back for redemption. As the tournament heightened and both of your teams kept winning - the media kept circulating articles about the faceoff everyone has been waiting a year to see, Caitlin and you on the court again.

Right before the Final Four - videos of your injury circulated again and pitted Caitlin as the villain in this completely made-up narrative. When hearing them - it took everything in you to not reach out to her. Everyone was telling you not to talk to anyone about Caitlin. Your manager also strongly advised you to not make any contact considering everything was under a microscope.

You did really well until you saw that Iowa was playing UConn in the final four. You had been friends with Paige for years now and knew they were ready to take on Iowa but something in your heart was rooting for Caitlin.

The morning of the Iowa v. UConn game you did it. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick message. It was a simple text but carried more weight than just the words present - it was the first contact you had initiated since before your injury.

Caitlin was still in her apartment when she got the message. She was straightening her hair with cameras on her for a documentary coming out on ESPN. She puts her straightener down and picks up her phone, trying not to show the message's effect on her knowing she was being recorded. Looking at the phone for longer than needed her eyes were glued to it.

[Other half: You got this.]

She doesn't know how to respond but she wants to. As she is thinking through how, her phone rings. It's Kate. She answers and quickly makes her way out of her apartment knowing she is picking up Kate before heading to the stadium.

Caitlin didn't mention the text she had gotten - not that she could mention anything with the camera crew still present but her mind was going crazy.

The Hawkeyes went in and took UConn by two points, sending them back to the championship and facing off SC in the championship. The face-off every sports fan has been waiting for.

The celebration was grand but Caitlin's mind kept wandering back to how she was going to respond to you.

When she was finally able to make it back to the locker room, she sat and responded to you.

[CC: Can we meet up after we play?]

Caitlin sent it and sort of regretted asking but she wanted to talk to you face to face. You responded faster than she had expected.

[Other Half: Yes]

The championship game comes faster than everyone anticipated. Both teams preparing for one final game. Up to this point - you alongside a Kamilla had committed to the draft. From Iowa - Caitlin had made her statement saying she was going to the draft. Both of you know this last game is a significant one. It would be the last of your college career.

The game is a crazy one - buckets exchanged with the leads fluctuating between your team and hers. At final buzzard it was your team that came out on top.

The celebration was epic as you saw Caitlin and her team make their way to their locker. Pictures were taken and confetti was thrown. When things begin to die down you see Caitlin emerge from the tunnel looking for something. You have an idea that she is looking for you and are proven right when she spots you, nervously making your way to you.

When she approaches you - the two of you nod to one another saying little good jobs. The amount of cameras surrounding you is insane as they get the content of you two together.

You want to put this college feud behind you as you both head into the W so in one swift movement, you remove your jersey. Caitlin takes the hint and does the same leaving you both in your undershirts.

You pass your jersey to her and she does the same with you. You both hold them up and let the media get all the photos they want of the two of you. Once you are done, you pull her in for a hug.

"Meet me in the coach's room," you whisper in her ear. She nods and the two of you part.

You finish the celebration and interviews and head back to grab your stuff. Before heading out, you make your way to meet Caitlin.

When you get there you see a girl sitting in a chair, looking down at her hands as she picks at her nails. She doesn't hear you enter but looks up when you close the door. She immediately stands and makes her way to you not really knowing what to say.

You look at her and pull her into a hug. You never said it but you missed her more than anything.

"I am so sorry," she says, her words muffled as they are spoken into your neck.

"Stop apologizing." You tell the girl in your arms.

"It was all my fault - I was mad and didn't realize my strength when I went up. You were out because of me and I will never forgive myself for that," she says not wanting to let you go.

"Caitlin lighted up on yourself." You say and pull away to look her in the eyes. "If I am honest, I blamed you at first. I was upset and frustrated and blamed you. But as time went on, I realized I only had myself to blame. You were playing the game - I would have done the same exact thing. As I was recovering - I started to be thankful for what had happened because it forced me to grow up. No one likes to be injured but I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't have that time."

Caitlin nods along to everything you say. You bring your fingers to wipe away the tears that fall.

"If anything I should be the one apologizing," you say and Caitlin shakes her head from side to side.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I do, I cut you out and I shouldn't have. I am sorry." You say. "Friends?" You ask sticking your hand out in a joking manner.

She takes your hand and shakes it. "Friends." She confirms.

The next week is a whirlwind as the two of you part ways to get ready for the draft. You two talk at least once a day trying to figure out what the next chapter of your lives could possibly look like.

When the night finally comes, it is more than you can imagine. Seeing so many congregate to highlight the sport and get ready for another great season while welcoming the new rookies is something you will never forget.

Caitlin is picked first - heading to the Indiana Fever. You could not be more excited for her. You were mentally prepared to head to the Phoenix Mercury or the New York Liberty.

It comes as a complete shock when you are picked by the Indiana Fever as well. You head up to the stage and go through your initial interview.

As you make your way back - you barely get to the hall before you see someone running up to you. Before you know it, Caitlin is in your arms. Her body is flush against yours as her arms wrap around you, squeezing you with everything she has. You lift her off the ground and squeeze her right back.

You could care less about who is watching - the only thing running through your mind is that you are about to spend the next four years with the girl in your arms.

When you place her on the ground she doesn't let you go but rather buries her face into your neck. You smile and let her hug you for as long as she wants.

It's in this moment that things begin to stir inside you. Your heart swells and you feel whole. Your hand comes up to hold the girl's head. There is no way the two of you are just friends and this moment solidifies that for you.

Weeks pass after the draft and you are getting situated in Indiana. You and Caitlin decided to find an apartment together.

The night of the draft the two of you found your way back to each other after going your separate ways to celebrate. That is when Caitlin admitted to having feelings for you dating back to your sophomore year of college. You sat there in complete awe of the girl and admitted that you had just recently realized your feelings for her but could probably date it to your recovery. From then on the two of you decided to take it slow - knowing how the media has been towards the two of you up to this point.

That sort of flew out the window when she asked you to find an apartment together when you both moved to Indy. And you were sure as hell glad she did.

After four years of the media pitting the two of you against each other, you were finally able to change the narrative. You were no longer rivals but now the new power team ready to take on the W.

AN: Tried to get a little of everything in here, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark concepts #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #wnba #wnba basketball

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

It's All About Intention

Solomon x GN! reader

Summary: You ask Solomon's opinion on what color you should paint your nails, and learn something new along the way.

AN: This is dedicated to @nnnneeev for being such sweet friend to me. Love you!! 💜 Anyways, hope everyone enjoys! Mwah!

Warnings: None

The soft pads of socked feet march through Cocytus Hall in search of something – or someone. The ever perceptive sorcerer who lounges in the common room grins to himself, lazily licking the tip of his finger to help turn the page of the tome he’s reading. He knows you too well, and by the sound of your footsteps, you’ve got something on your mind.

“Hey, Solomon,” you say as you pass through the threshold, “I need your opinion on something.”

Just as he thought.

He marks his page before closing the book, focusing his attention on you as approach with a little box in your hands. He recognizes it as he’s seen that box in your room, yet the contents within are eluding him.

“I’d be happy to assist you in any way I can,” he says with a genuine smile. “What’s on your mind, my dear?”

You sit next to him on the couch with the box in your lap. With a soft sigh, you begin to explain your dilemma. “I can’t decide on what color to paint my nails...”

You peel the flap of the box back, opening it, as Solomon leans over and peeks inside to see many different bottles of nail polish in the ultimate ROYGBIV categorization. A soft whistle blows past his lips; he’s impressed by how pleasing it is to look at. He knew you painted your nails often, but it dawns on him just how many bottles you own. You’re like him with books, except for you, it’s nail polish.

“I’ve never realized you had quite the collection. I think you might give Asmo a run for his money.” he says with a chuckle.

Your eyebrows raise, obviously not believing that statement. With a quick shake of your head and a chuckle, you reply. “Oh, no. I don’t think anyone could beat him with his many shelves of high-end nail polish.”

Solomon hums. “You’re right,” he strokes his chin in thought, “you’re about two hundred bottles off.”

That earns him a light smack on the arm as you both laugh.

“Shut up.”

“If I shut up then I can’t give you my opinion, sweet apprentice of mine.” He’s got that shit-eating grin again, never missing an opportunity to tease you. It’s his favorite past-time.

You huff out in faux annoyance, even going so far as to roll your eyes. You’re lucky he finds you so cute when you do that, he thinks. Otherwise, he might’ve been offended.

“Fine, fine. Just tell me what you think.” You scoot the box further down, now resting it on your knee so he’s drawn to its focus once more.

Solomon’s eyes flick over each color with intensity. He’s really giving this some thought. “Well, is there anything you want to come out of this?”

Silence settles between you, and for a second he thinks you didn’t hear him. That is, until he glances up to see you with the most dumbfounded expression as you stare right back at him.

“Uh, yeah? My nails to be painted?”

It seems he wasn’t clear with his wording. Though he does get a hearty laugh out of your response. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. I mean...do you have something you want to manifest?”

Your expression stays the same, the only change is a few hard and confused blinks. “What does this have to do with painting my nails?”

“Well, everything really. Painting your nails using a certain color can attract that which you seek. I’ve taught you that using different colored candles in spells can aid in what you bring in, right? So, the same thing applies here.”

Solomon can see the wheels turning in your head now. He thinks this is a good lesson to be taught – that magic requires innovation and that magic is in everything.

“Really?” you ask.

“Really. So, if you wanted to strengthen your intuition, you might use a shade of blue. If you wanted to boost your creativity, you could use yellow,” he pauses before a grin curls on his lips again, “and you could use pink to attract love.” His eyebrows wiggle in a suggestive way, making you laugh a little.

“Okay, okay. I think I get it. Though I didn’t realize that I could incorporate magic into painting my nails.” He watches you look over your precious box with a certain glint in your eyes. He loves that look, that giddy sparkle when you learn something new. You’re too precious for your own good.

“My adorable apprentice, magic is in everything. All you have to do is show up with intention.”

“Intention,” you nod as you remember him saying that during one of your first lessons. “It’s all about intention, yes, I remember.”

Solomon chuckles. “Good.” He digs into the box, pulling out a little bottle filled with a deep indigo. “How about painting them indigo...to remind yourself you are capable of anything you put your mind to, especially within the realm of magic. You are more than capable of becoming a wonderful sorcerer someday.”

To your surprise, he leans over and places a soft kiss on your cheek before adding, “I am so proud of you.”

His eyes soften as he watches your cheeks heat up with one word coming to mind; precious.

“So, is there any chance I could get you to paint my nails while you’re at it?”

You clear your throat as you try to choke the fluster down. “Sure, but it’ll cost you.” you grin as you tease him back.

“You’ve been spending way too much time with Mammon, he’s rubbing off on you in the worst way.” Solomon rolls his eyes, chuckling again.

“I’m kidding!” you snicker. “Anyways, what color were you thinking for yourself?”

He pretends to think as he eyes a certain color in the box. “Hm, how about pink? I have something I want more of…” he wiggles his brows again, smirking widely, “your love.”

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me fluff #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #jo writes

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the heavy weight of guilt (part two)

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only, smut, cheating, p in v sex, unprotected sex

part one / part two

“what the fuck did you do?” rafe growls.

“what?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. “you would never leave her unless she found out, so i made it so you have to be with just me.”

“you're fucking crazy if you think im going to stay with you after you destroyed my family.” rafe grunts out.

“destroyed? you did that by cheating on your wife. don't blame me for exposing the truth.”

“the truth is that you came into me, practically forced yourself onto me.”

“yet you were completely willing. don't be ridiculous rafe. you don't even care about your dumb kids or stupid wife anyways. all you care about is fucking young pussy.”

“aren't you worried ill leave you some day then? get with someone younger as you grow old and wrinkle.” rafe tilts his head to the side, trying to anger you even more.

“oh rafe” you laugh maniacally. “i will never let you leave me. i wont lose you like your wife did.”

“goddamn it.” rafe grunts, bending down and picking you up, slinging you over your shoulder like you're just a sack of flour.

“damn, you're strong when you're pissed.” you chuckle, which just makes rafes hold on you tighten further.

“shut up, please.” he begs. he needs to get his anger and frustration out, and since you're the cause of his guilt, it's going to be by using you.

“fine, we can talk about our new living arrangements after you fuck me silly.” you know you're only antagonizing rafe further as he tosses you onto the bed, throwing you so hard you bounce against the mattress.

“i hate you.” rafe says before smashing his lips against yours, dominating your mouth as his hands begin to strip you of your clothing, pulling it away until you're naked.

“get undressed, let me see you.” you say, trying to unbutton rafes shirt, but he just pushes your hand away.

“im gonna fuck you how i want to fuck you. you're not in control anymore.” 

you're surprised by his sure dominance. he's always been on top before, but he's never disobeyed you.

you keep quiet, lips practically sealing closed as rafe undoes his pants, tugging his zipper down just to pull his cock out, already hard like it always is whenever he's around you.

“god, look at you.” rafe groans when you spread your legs, pussy blossoming open for him like it always does. “such a little slut. my slut, and now im yours too. you made sure of that, huh?”

you're not sure how to respond, but rafe barely gives you any time anyways as he pushes forward, plunging his cock inside of you in one smooth motion.

despite his size, he gives you not even a moment to adjust as he begins to fuck you without a care, snapping his hips forward, focused solely on his own pleasure.

you try to keep your body relaxed as you watch rafe above you. his eyes are on you but they're glossed over, like he's in another place.

you sit up rapidly, tapping your palm against his face. “hey.” you grunt. “you're not thinking of someone else right?”

“what, like my soon to be ex wife? so what if i am? you ruined that already.” 

you move quickly, pulling your body away only to grab rafe and bring him forward onto the bed. he's so surprised by your sudden show of stretch that when you flip him over onto his back he doesn't question it.

“it's only me. you're mine forever.” you sink your pussy down on rafes cock.

his moans betray him as his head tilts back, mouth wide as you ride him, moving your hips quickly and aggressively to spur him on, not caring that your pussy is already sore.

“mine.” you growl as your hands attack the buttons on his shirt until you're able to pull the two sides open and reveal his bare torso, muscled and covered with a faint dusting of hair.

“i know, shit.” rafe knew he was yours from the moment your lips met, cementing the end of his marriage and end of the good guy streak he had going for many years.

“and you're going to cum in me and actually get me pregnant.” you already stopped taking your birth control the day after you sent that video to rafes wife. “and you'll like this kid and raise it how you want and never leave them or me.”

“god, you're fucking crazy.” rafe says, hips rising up to meet yours.

“and that's why you'll be mine forever.”

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe one shot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot

[kittysarchive]

Hi, if your requests are open, could I get prompts 2,21&22 with jake or jungwon please?

2=sub reader, 21=pain kink, 22=choking

I chose Jake :)

warnings- smut, pain kink, daddy kink, rough dom Jake, sub reader, choking, lmk if i missed anything.

"Such a slut" Jake laughs as his fingers curl around your neck. A slut you were.

Begging for more as he caused pain on you, begging for more as he already abused your pussy.

"You want more huh? Want Daddy to fuck you hard?" You nod your head, causing another round of laughter from Jake. You were so cute yet acted like such a slut.

His cock yet again entering you, you brace for his roughness, the roughness you begged for.

"P-please Daddy" You cry out at his painfully slow thrusts. On purpose, Jake now slams into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. Hips rolling over yours, pussy squelching at your wetness. It was almost embarrassing.

"You dirty girl" His fingers tighten around your neck, restricting more of your already limited oxygen. Pulling his hips back, Jake goes quiet as he focusing on fucking you hard, just liked you asked, just liked you beg.

Short grunts leaving his mouth, he bruises your hips as he slams down onto them. Free hand gripping your waist hard, he removes it to slam down on your inner thigh. The sensation giving pleasure, you clench down on his cock.

The stinging dies down and Jake lands another slap down Thighs becoming red, he soon stops to abuse your pussy more. Moving in and out, your pussy fails to keep up with him. Tip bruising your walls, balls slapping your ass, it all felt good. to good.

"c-cum" You manage to get out. Hearing your quiet voice, Jake loosens his grip on your neck.

"Does my slut want to cum?" You nod your head, to out of breath to give a verbal reply. Smirking at how you struggled a basic task, he thrusts slow down. He was ready to cum, he was overdoing himself so we could cum with you.

With an idea popping in his head, Jake begins to move his hips again. You cry out, holding back your pleasure. What was a doing?

"You like pain that much, you can be a slut and hold it in until Daddy says so" Like the slut you were you clench around him hard, you couldn't wait to feel the pain.

I don't normally write stuff like this so soz if its bad

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen jake smut #jake smut #dom jake #rough smut #sub reader #fem reader

[offbrandkyoya]

[15]

m.list next

Walking to practice didn’t seem so hard. Kageyama will show up to the classroom and awkwardly wait for them.

So then, what’s taking them so damn long?!

Kageyama has been standing outside the doorway for 20 minutes now, and there’s no sign of them! People are giving him weird looks, and it’s not helping that he has a troubled face.

“Kageyama,” one of the students approached him. “Is there someone you’re looking for?” He nods. “Maybe I can help? What’s their name?” Kageyama stutters. He isn’t sure himself, but he can’t just say milkchan; that’s embarrassing.

But if he says he doesn’t know, then that’ll ruin what he had with his crush, and what if they overhear? They’ll surely hate him and think their friendship means nothing, and he completely embarrassed them! Kageyama grumbled, then realized the person had left, probably scared of his long silence.

Kageyama peeks inside the classroom. There’s no one. Had he missed them? But he’d know if they left because, well, he likes them. Kageyama's cheeks turn red at that thought.

He’s going to be late for practice if he waits any more. He sighs, ‘Did I just get stood up?’

Kageyama roams the halls with gloom. He was really looking forward to it. They seemed so excited, too. Was he wrong?

Kageyama sighs again. “That was a waste of time.” He muttered. “Kageyama?” He perks up. Milk-Chan stands there, clutching their bag strap that hangs over their shoulder. Kageyama takes notice of their shock, and that makes him nervous. ‘Did they hear what I said?’

“I…” He glances to the side. “I didn’t mean...” “It’s okay.” They say, “I was in the bathroom.” ‘Oh.’ He feels silly now, and he scratches the back of his head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t notice you left your classroom.” They tilt their head with a chuckle. “I didn’t notice you were there, waiting.”

The two look at each other in confusion, but they snicker. “Let’s get going. I’m sure I’ve kept you waiting forever.” They say, and he nods. They begin to start walking together until Kageyama musters up the courage, tugs on Milk-Chan's shirt, and with flushed cheeks, he says, “I don’t think you’re a waste of time.”

He didn’t know 100% that they heard it, but still, he wanted to say it because Milk-Chan is so special. Kageyama doesn’t want the crown to get to him.

His crush turns their heads toward him with watery eyes. ‘So they did hear.’ They smiled and let out a laugh. “You’re really kind, Kageyama.” He blushed even more, and the walk continued.

When they reached the gym, Kageyama nervously looked at them. “Uh…my…” He closes his eyes in regret. “…friend…” His eyes open. “…is going to buy me meat buns after…Do you want them?” His face turns red.

Milk-chan giggled. “Sure. I’d like that. Do you want me to wait for you?” Kageyama nods. “Is that okay?” They laugh. “I mean, I’m the one who asked.” Kageyama feels even more flustered.

“Kageyamaaaaa!!” Hinata storms out of the gym. “Where were you?! You know that counts as my win!” “Shut the hell up!” Hinata notices his crush, then lets out a loud gasp. “You actually brought them!” “Of course I did dumbass!” “What’s going on?” Daichi walks out with his arms crossed. “Kageyama brought his..." The tall one sends him a hard glare.

Hinata shivers, then nervously chuckles. “He brought his friend.” Daichi raises a brow. “Okay? Listen, Kageyama, you’re late, which isn’t like you.” “Sorry…” Milk-Chan stands in front of Kageyama. “It’s my fault. I kept him waiting.” Daichi sighs, “It’s fine. He’s here; that’s all that matters.”

“Come on, Kageyama.” Daichi grabs his arm and drags him inside. Hinata glances at his crush. “Did he tell you that he wants to feed you meat buns?” “Huh?” "HINATA, YOU DUMB FUCK, I'M NOT DOING THAT!!!!!” “KAGEYAMA, HINATA, BACK TO WORK!”

laughs evilly

watching chicago med n all I do is cry

@karma-gisa @cosmiicdust @abcdefghijklmzopqrstuvwxyz @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @xmagik @tnazips @zhochikennugget @makkir0ll @asp7n @hrkdlsjz @lucky-chars @azharyy @gigiiiiislife @ahnneyong @rouzuchan @bakarinnie @djmoyolehuani @rinheartshyunlix @weirdowithaphone

#haikyuu smau series #haikyuu smau #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama tobio x you #kageyama smau #hq kageyama #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #haikyuu tsukki #haikyuu shoyo #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu yamaguchi #haikyuu tobio #haikyuu #tsukishima kei #hq tsukki #hinata shoyo #hinata shouyou #yamaguchi tadashi #yachi hitoka #kiyoko shimizu #sawamura daichi #tanaka ryuunosuke #nishinoya yuu

[jennifer-jeong]

can we get a headcanon of the lads boys' (raf, Zayne & Xavier) reaction when MC bought her little sister that resembles a lot to her (MC) I'm dying for some fluffs here where the boys interact with a kid 😂🥰

HI ANON SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG JFDKLA;JFDLSA; THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASKK it’s so fluffy and funny heheh I had fun with this one

NOTE that reader’s sister is around 12 years old in this

[Fluff + Crack] [F!Reader] Little Sister?

CONTENT Fluff, crack, shitposting LOL, implied feminine reader

WORD COUNT: 1342

RAFAYEL

Your sister definitely bullies him at first just like you do (LMAO) and he will pout and turn away in annoyance and she’ll do the same but then you’ll look away for 2 seconds and they’ll be best friends.

At first when you invite Rafayel over, your sister is probably a bit scared, hiding behind you holding onto you. He probably comments on how she’s kind of your “mini-me” and your sister hits him with the “I’m not mini!” and he’ll reply “well you look pretty mini to me.” Then she’ll kick him in the shins (not too hard just a warning kick). He’ll gasp and then dramatically cross his arms, turning away while pouting, she’ll do the same. Of course you’re just giggling at the antics not helping because you know they’ll get along quickly.

“Okay okay you two, go play some games while I finish making dinner for everyone,” you mediate before heading off to the kitchen. So the two stand there for a second before side eyeing each other and scrambling to the TV to see who is the champion at Mario Kart because that is extremely important information. Of course you can hear their screaming and laughter from the kitchen: “WHY DID YOU THROW THAT BANANA AT ME” you hear Rafayel scream, “IT’S YOUR FAULT FOR BEING THERE” you hear your sister reply.

Rafayel definitely yells as if he’s actually driving a car so if he crashes he’ll actually act like he crashed and it makes your sister laugh until her cheeks hurt.

Later on you find out Rafayel placed 6th out of 12 and your sister smoked him for 1st place LMAOOO. They tell you some of the funny moments and it’s all filled with laughter and a bit of banter but they’re practically best friends at this point. You even join them for a few games after dinner and it’s hilarious.

From then on, there isn’t a single moment where your sister isn’t braiding his hair/putting it in pigtails, putting clips on his bangs, play fighting with him, or just having fun with him.

ZAYNE

Basically your sister is dead terrified of him when she first sees him but since Zayne is surprisingly good with all patients, kids included, he’s actually very good with your sister as well.

When you bring your sister to your shared apartment with Zayne, her eyes are literally wide open with fear upon seeing him and when you tell her to come inside, she shakes her head. So you tell her “aw are you scared of him?? He’s harmless, look he’ll even do a dance.” So Zayne looks at you, still deadpan, looks back at your sister, and shimmy’s his arms back and forth a bit. That man is STIFF doing this move but at least he tried.

Her fear hasn’t quite gone away at this point but now it’s just confused fear?? But she agrees to come inside. You walk off to go make dinner and tell them to start a puzzle together and you’ll all finish it after dinner, comforting your sister and reassuring her that Zayne is very sweet. She sits down in the living room with him and they dump the pieces out.

Zayne pauses, staring at the puzzle pieces before asking your sister “what do you call a dancing puzzle?” and she is mildly mortified before actually thinking about the question. She responds “I don’t know, what is it called?” and he, fully deadpan, replies “a jiggy-saw.” Something about the way this stoic man said “jiggy” was just absolutely hilarious despite the awful pun and your sister lets out a snort and Zayne gives a short chuckle. He suggests they begin on the puzzle and they start chatting to get to know each other, occasionally stopping to make fun of some of the funny looking puzzle pieces.

When you call them over for dinner, Zayne holds out his hand for a high five and your sister excitedly obliges before “racing” him to the table, to which he of course loses. They then continue their yapping into dinner as your sister opens up more.

At the end of dinner Zayne has to offer your sister a classic doctor’s office candy and her face lights up, accepting it and running off. You all work on the puzzle and chat, your sister occasionally going over to you and Zayne to tie your hair into matching ponytails that make you look like unicorns with her pink scrunchies.

When it came time for your sister to leave however, she definitely clings onto Zayne’s leg telling him to not let them take her away. But Zayne of course knows how to handle this and says “hey, there will always be next time, and if you promise to be good, you can have two candies, one now, and one the next time we hangout, okay? I’ll even hold on to this scrunchie to remember,” and she agrees to the deal. Needless to say, they were besties now.

XAVIER

Your sister is probably very confused and kind of intimidated when she meets him and Xavier has no clue what to do but he’ll do something cool with his sword or light evol and she’ll never stop being amazed.

When you call Xavier to your apartment for dinner and to meet your sister, he did not expect you to have a tiny doppelganger. What YOU expected even less was for him to literally shake her hand and say “nice to meet you.” Like he fully pulled out the businessman handshake to greet her but she followed along and also hit him with the “nice to meet you too.” Then he walks in as if nothing happened while you and your sister just stand there, watching him walk away before looking at each other and giggling.

You tell them you’re going to finish making dinner and for them to watch a short movie or an episode of a show which they wait. Your sister, being your sister, of course suggests that they watch the new episode of Demon Slayer. Xavier is caught up because you suggested it to him and he agrees, saying he finds the fighting really cool. They watch a bit until the first fight scene and Xavier is like “yoooo check this out” and pulls out his wooden sword LMAO.

He does the same slashing move the character in the scene does and he even uses his light evol to make it look like he has the same powers. He looks back and your sister’s jaw is on the actual floor while he just stands there like the standing person emoji, not sure what to do next.

2 seconds later and he’s teaching her how to hold the sword properly and how to do some basic movements. Her eyes are full of sparkles and she finds him so freaking cool !!! He’s literally a demon slayer character!!!

Xavier of course sees another fight scene and copies a few of the movements. However, he’s too busy watching the screen to see what’s in front of him… Your vase of flowers now sits on the floor. Xavier and your sister literally get on the ground praising the heavens for the vase being plastic and not glass before laughing. Quickly they hear a “WHAT DID YOU KNOCK OVER” from the kitchen and they simultaneously yell “NOTHING” while both hitting the standing person emoji pose.

You put them in timeout together as a joke (you left them there for like 10 seconds and then you all laughed).

During dinner they caught you up on the episode and after eating you finished it together. You all talk about how good it was until you joke that you’ve become a demon yourself and they need to slay you !!! So Xavier and your sister tackle you while you all giggle.

From that day on, your sister never stops talking about how cool her bestie Xavier is and how she wants to train her “demon slaying skills” with him again.

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST ♡ ||

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace crack #rafayel x reader #rafayel fluff #rafayel crack #zayne x reader #zayne fluff #zayne crack #xavier x reader #xavier fluff #xavier crack #lads x reader #lads fluff #L&DS x reader #L&DS fluff #j's silly ramblings #j's asks

[maidragoste]

Needy

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Warning: +18, NSFW, unprotected sex.

MDNI!

A/N: It was supposed to publish Jacaery drabble first but I woke up thinking of Aegon and I could not avoid it 🤭

If you enjoy reading please do not hesitate to leave a comment or reblog 🥰💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also, I don't usually write smut so I apologize if this is a mess, have mercy on me lol

Thank you for reading!

When you put on that pretty new skirt, a little shorter than you were used to using, to go to the Helaena house it had been with the intention of attracting Aegon's attention. But you never imagined that when he offered to take you back to your home you would end up being fucked by his fingers in the passenger seat of his car.

Your skirt was lifted, your panties to one side and two Aegon fingers didn't stop moving quickly inside you while with his thumb rubbed your clitoris seeking to give you another orgasm.

You had already cummed before and made a mess on the seat but Aegon instead of worrying about it he continued fucking you and telling you how pretty you looked making you fall in love with him even more.

“Come on babe, I know you can give me another one” Aegon said increasing the intensity of his movements making your moans increase “Come on, be a good girl for me and let me see again how pretty you look while you cum” his words were like a switch because you began to move your hips desperately trying to reach your orgasm faster.

You cried his name as you felt the knot in your stomach unravel, wetting his fingers and part of the seat again. You felt empty as Aegon's fingers left your insides. You thought disappointedly that it was over, that you would just be best friends with his sister again, but then Aegon put his fingers in his mouth and the image of him sucking his fingers to taste your juices made your pussy throb. You are greedy and want more so you went to sit on his lap. You looked at the bulge in his pants before looking into his eyes.

“I want your cock, can I have it?” you asked directly, forgetting about any modesty you may have had before. If this was going to be the only time you could have Aegon then you wanted to have the whole experience. “Please,” the smile on his face made your desire for him increase.

“Come on, take me” as soon as you had his permission your hands went to his belt but you were too anxious so you were having a hard time unbuckling it making him laugh “Look at you, so desperate to have me” he mocked before helping you.

Maybe at another time you would have been embarrassed but the only thing you were thinking now is that you want him. So once him got rid of the belt you hurriedly pulled down his pants and boxers revealing his erection. Aegon watched enthralled as you lowered your hand to your wet pussy and then spread your juices over his cock, moving your hand up and down making him sigh. Seeing that he was starting to get impatient, you directed his cock towards your entrance and slowly began to put him inside you. Aegon gasped as he felt your walls tighten around him and you dug your nails into his chest as you began to ride his cock. Then he lunged at your mouth, giving you messy kisses because in the middle of them he couldn't help but moan at how good your pussy felt. Hearing it only made your lust increase. You love hearing him needy for you, feeling the warmth of his hands on your waist, his tongue and teeth on your neck. You're so caught up in your haze of lust that you can't help but let out a surprised scream when he begins to ride you on and off his cock at a more intense pace. Now it's you who seems needy, whining to Aegon not to stop, that you love the way his cock feels, that you're close to cumming and you want to cum along with him.

The volume of your moans increase as you get closer to reaching your climax, Aegon should put his hand over your pretty little mouth and try to shut you up because the last thing he wanted was for someone passing by on the street to hear you and interrupt but he doesn't because he loves to listen to them. Now the next time you come home the only thing he will think about when he sees you will be this image, you cumming on his cock, looking at him with eyes clouded with ecstasy and moaning his name.

Aegon cums inside you and you feel his heavy breathing against your neck. You wonder if now is the time to go back to normal but he surprises you by giving you kisses on your neck and gently caressing your waist making you melt in his arms.

“Are you coming home next Saturday?” he asks, looking at you without stopping his caresses.

“Helaena is busy on Saturday,” you respond, knowing that your best friend had planned to meet up with her college classmates that day.

“I'm not asking you if you're going to see Helaena, I'm telling you to come see me” he smiled when he saw the surprise in your eyes. “I want to fuck you in front of the mirror in my room, what do you think?”

Your response comes with a hungry kiss.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works: @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @yn-jackson

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#aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon ii x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon x y/n #modern hotd #hotd modern au #hotd smut #aegon smut #aegon ii smut #aegon ii imagine #aegon ii targaryen #king aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen ii #modern aegon

[theodorenmyth]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT! ✋🏾😭 CURLY HAIRED M! READER THREATENING TO STRAIGHTEN HIS HAIR IF MATTHEO DOESNT STOP FIGHTING😕. Like legit mattheo adores the boy’s hair a lot, he literally likes to pull a string and go “boing!” And it’s so satisfying. it’s a funny fluff scene as literally Mattheo chases reader with a cup of water to de-straighten his hair and reader is legit just trying not to laugh while running for his life.

HOLUY FUCK I LOVE THIS SO MUCH HELLO??

───────♡───────

Tangled Promises

Pairings : Mattheo Riddle x M! Reader Summary : Mattheo Riddle adores your curly hair, finding endless joy in pulling the strands and watching them spring back. However, his frequent fights put a strain on your relationship, and you threaten to straighten your hair if he doesn't stop. Chaos ensues as he chases you around Hogwarts with a cup of water, determined to restore your curls. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Nothing! Word count : 1.4k+

Your curly hair had always been a source of fascination for Mattheo Riddle. He would often spend hours playing with your curls, pulling a strand and delighting in the way it bounced back with a satisfying "boing!" sound. It was one of the many quirks that had drawn him to you in the first place. However, his constant fighting was beginning to wear on you.

One evening, after a particularly nasty brawl in the Great Hall, you decided it was time to take drastic measures. Mattheo sat across from you, sporting a fresh bruise on his cheek and a split lip. He smirked at you, unfazed by the damage, but you had had enough.

"That's it, Mattheo. If you don't stop fighting, I'm straightening my hair," you declared, folding your arms defiantly.

Mattheo's eyes widened in horror. "You wouldn't."

"I would," you replied, your voice steady. "I’m serious. I'm tired of seeing you come back hurt all the time. If you can't stop fighting for yourself, maybe you'll stop for my curls."

His eyes widened in genuine horror. “But I love your hair,” he protested, stepping closer and tugging gently at a springy curl. “It goes boing!” He released it, watching with satisfaction as it snapped back into place. The joy in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Watch me," you said, grabbing your wand and heading towards the bathroom.

Mattheo scrambled to his feet, following you closely. "Okay, okay, wait! Let's talk about this," he pleaded, but you were already inside the bathroom, the door shut firmly behind you.

You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. You knew Mattheo loved your hair, and you loved the way he loved it, but this was important. You had to get through to him somehow. With a deep breath, you cast the straightening spell, watching as your curls transformed into sleek, straight locks.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Mattheo's face fell. "No! Your curls..." he muttered, looking genuinely distressed.

"Well, maybe you'll think twice before you get into another fight," you said, trying to keep a straight face, but the look on his face was too much. You almost burst out laughing.

Mattheo, however, was on a mission. He grabbed a cup of water from the bedside table and lunged at you. "I'll just fix it with this!"

You dodged his first attempt, laughing now as you ran across the room. "You're not going to get me that easily!"

He chased you through the corridors of Hogwarts, students watching with amused expressions as Mattheo, with a cup of water in hand, tried to douse your hair. You zigzagged through the hallways, laughing so hard it was difficult to keep running.

"Stop running and let me fix your hair!" Mattheo shouted, a mixture of frustration and amusement in his voice.

"Not until you promise to stop fighting!" you called back, dodging into an empty classroom.

Mattheo followed, cornering you against a wall. "Fine, fine! I promise!" he panted, holding the cup of water threateningly.

"Do you really?" you asked, looking into his eyes.

"I swear it. Just please, let me have my curls back," he said, his voice softening.

With a satisfied grin, you nodded. "Okay, you can fix it."

Mattheo wasted no time, carefully pouring the water over your hair. Instantly, your curls began to spring back, much to his delight. He ran his fingers through your hair, pulling a strand and watching it bounce. "Boing!" he said again, smiling widely.

"See? All better now," you said, still breathless from the chase.

He cupped your face, his eyes serious now. "I really do promise, you know. No more fights. I can't risk losing your curls again."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "Good. Because I like them too."

With that, he kissed you softly, the tension from earlier melting away. You knew it wouldn't be easy for him to stop fighting altogether, but at least he was willing to try. And if it meant keeping your curls intact, you were more than happy to give him all the motivation he needed.

As you walked back to your common room hand in hand, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for Mattheo. He might be stubborn and prone to trouble, but he was also sweet and caring in his own way. And as long as he kept his promise, you were willing to put up with a lot—especially if it meant more moments like this, filled with laughter and love.

───────♡───────

In the following weeks, you noticed a significant change in Mattheo's behavior. He would still get riled up, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation, but he'd catch your eye and remember his promise. More than once, you saw him clench his fists, ready to throw a punch, only to stop, take a deep breath, and walk away. His friends, initially confused, soon understood the reason behind his newfound restraint. They began to tease him, but he took it all in stride, often with a cheeky grin and a glance in your direction.

One afternoon, as you were studying in the library, Mattheo plopped down beside you, his face flushed with excitement. "Guess what?" he whispered, unable to contain his glee.

"What?" you asked, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

"I walked away from a fight today," he said, pride evident in his voice. "Some Slytherin jerk was mouthing off about you, and I almost lost it. But then I thought about your curls, and I just walked away."

You beamed at him, proud of his progress. "That's amazing, Mattheo! I'm really proud of you."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, I think I've found a new way to deal with my anger."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Whenever I feel like hitting someone, I come find you instead," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Because nothing calms me down like playing with your curls."

You laughed, feeling a warm rush of affection for him. "Well, I'm glad I can help."

───────♡───────

Days turned into weeks, and Mattheo's promise held strong. He still had his moments of frustration, but he managed to channel his energy into more productive outlets. He started training more rigorously in dueling club, focusing his aggression into controlled, skillful combat rather than reckless brawls. His professors began to notice the change, commenting on his improved discipline and control.

One evening, as you sat together in the common room, Mattheo pulled you close, his fingers twirling a strand of your hair. "You know, I never really thanked you."

"For what?" you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

"For making me a better person," he said softly. "I don't think I would have managed to change without you."

You smiled, touched by his words. "Well, it wasn't just me. You did the hard work. I just gave you a little... motivation."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Still, I couldn't have done it without you. And I promise, I'll keep working on it. For you, and for me."

From that day forward, Mattheo continued to make a genuine effort to avoid fights. Every time he seemed on the verge of losing his temper, you’d give him a look, and he’d remember your threat. It wasn’t just about the curls, of course. It was about knowing that someone cared enough to go to such lengths for him.

And every now and then, when he’d pull a curl and watch it spring back with a delighted "boing!", you’d smile, knowing you had found a way to protect both him and your precious curls.

One chilly evening, as you both sat by the fire in the common room, Mattheo reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "You know," he began, his voice thoughtful, "I used to think that fighting was the only way to show strength. But you've shown me that there's strength in restraint too. And in love."

You squeezed his hand, your heart swelling with affection. "I'm glad you see that now. And I'm proud of you, Mattheo. More than you know."

He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart skip a beat. "I love you," he said simply.

"I love you too," you replied, leaning in to kiss him gently.

As the fire crackled and the common room filled with the soft murmur of students' conversations, you knew that this was just the beginning. Mattheo had a long road ahead of him, but you were ready to walk it with him, hand in hand. Because in the end, love was the strongest magic of all, capable of transforming even the most stubborn of hearts.

And as long as you had each other, there was nothing you couldn't overcome.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys react #slytherin x reader #slytherin boys x reader #theodorenmyth #harry potter x you #harry potter x male reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter fandom #harry potter universe #hp fic #hp x male reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #male reader #curly hair #curlyhead #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts houses

[1starqi]

All Seriousness

genre: fluff, established relationship

pairing: sohee x reader

warnings: barely proofread, reader is referenced as being shorter, reader wears lipgloss, kisses on cheeks and lips, they say i love you (warnings almost identical to the jay fic lol)

word count: ~700

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

▸ Now Playing: One Kiss

“Where are we going?” Is the question immediately asked by your boyfriend as you enter the shopping mall.

“Well, I want to go do some clothes shopping and I think we need a new broom, right?”

“I got the household things, you focus on the fun stuff.” He tells you. The shopping mall is big and bright, but you don’t feel so overwhelmed with him at your side. Your hand naturally finds its place in his, and in your periphery, you can see him look down at your intertwined hands and you see a blush creep up his neck. No matter how many times you hold his hand or kiss him (anything, really) Sohee gets flustered.

“Look at that!” You suddenly point out to a small booth in the corner of the mall. It’s white on the inside, but the entrance is covered by a thick blue curtain.

“I didn’t know they still had photo booths in this mall.” A huge smile that threatens to appear on his face.

“Do you want to do it?” You ask him excitedly, swinging your hand back and forth with his.

“Of course!” He laughs and starts eagerly leading you to the booth.

In the booth, the two of you take your seats—you on the left, him on the right. 

“No seriousness, okay?” You stick out your pinky and he laughs again, but despite that, locks his pinky with yours.

“No seriousness.” As he says so, you press the start button and the timer starts counting. 

5… 4… 3… You suddenly take his face in your hands and press kisses all over his cheeks. 2… He looks as shocked as ever, his eyebrows go tall and his mouth opens slightly as he looks right into the camera. 1… click! The camera takes the photo and as you retreat from kissing him, it automatically starts the countdown for another picture. You notice the strawberry pink stains left on his cheeks from your lip gloss.

5… He begins peppering kisses over your face like you did his and you giggle because his frantic lips tickle. 4… 3… 2… 1… Suddenly, he grabs your face and presses your lips onto his. He could say it was for the photo, but when you see the photo later you can’t deny the smile that the camera caught on his face. Click! You’d say it was that he just wanted to kiss you because when the camera clicks, he doesn’t stop his attack. Another click and he’s still kissing you. Breathlessly, you pull away. “How many more do we have?” You grin at him when asking your question.

“I don’t know.” He says, breathing hard, obviously equally breathless. You look at the screen and answer your own question. There are two left. You wrap your arms under him for the next one, and he takes the cue and squishes you in a hug. An idea pops into your head just as the second to last photo clicks. You’d been meaning to say something for a while, but you didn’t know how or when to say it until now. The final counter starts and he suggests, “Do we want to do silly faces?” 5… 4…

“Yeah!” You agree, despite knowing that the photo isn’t going to be silly faces if everything goes to plan. 3… 2… 

“I love you.” His eyes widen, abandoning his sideways tongue gesture for an expression of even greater surprise than before. 1… click! That’s how the first I love you goes in your relationship; in a photo booth, his face covered in kisses. Neither of you look at the screen for your pictures yet. You’re stuck looking at him.

He looks down to face you, “Was that part of no seriousness, too?” He faintly asks, suppressing his feelings of overwhelming happiness. You had forgotten about that.

“No way.” You breathlessly tell him, waiting for his response. “I love you, Sohee.”

Now, he can’t hide the giant smile on his face. Sohee looks like the happiest person in the world when he processes your words. He palms the back of your head and pushes his forehead to yours.

“I love you too.” If only there was one more photo to be taken.

#riize fluff #riize x reader #sohee fluff #riize sohee fluff #sohee #qiqi writes

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part V

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

V. Talking In Bed

You didn’t exactly pack sexy pajamas, so you make do with an old t-shirt you cut the neck out of, and your nicest pair of panties, forgoing your old sweatpants that are a size too big and have a hole in the leg.

“Is that…a rat?” asks Frank, looking at your t-shirt with a raised eyebrow.

You chortle while looking down at the grinning animal howling at the moon emblazoned on your chest.

“It’s a possum. I made it in art school…five million years ago.”

“Somehow, it suits you.” 

You laugh, crawling into bed with him.

As it turns out, it doesn’t stay on long anyway. You snuggle up together, having a glass of wine in bed, watching a medical drama. When the wine is gone, your attention soon turns from bad tv to making out. Frank asks between kissing you, “So was it Kevin who made you feel like you take too long?”

The answer is absolutely yes. He’d guilted you for wanting your own pleasure, complained when you tried to direct him how to touch you, and that affected you forever with other partners, truth be told.

“Ah…yeah.”

“What a prick.”

You can’t help but laugh between kisses that curl your toes. “Agreed.” A moment later you pose, “Is it weird we're talking about your brother in bed?”

“Half-brother. And we've been bashing him all weekend. Why stop now?” 

You sigh, still laughing a little. “Fine. Yes. He traumatized me for life, the asshole.” 

As you say this Frank is kissing down your body. It feels wonderful, but you miss his full mouth on yours. “Hey. Where are you going?” you say, trying to pull him back up. 

“I'll give you three guesses,” he offers, pulling up your t-shirt to kiss your belly.  

“You don't...” Your breath hitches as his tongue dips into the waistband of your panties. Oh god. “…Have to do that.” 

“Have to?” He pulls down your panties a little with his teeth. You watch him down your body with a mixture of amusement and something unnervingly warm in your chest. He should look absurd like this, trying to chew through the strap of your underwear. When in fact…he moves you to the tips of your toes.

“What if I want to?” he asks. 

“Do you?” Somehow, you find it hard to believe. No one ever has wanted to before. It’s always a matter of course, and you sense they don’t enjoy it, which adds to your own anxiety about it all.  

“Yes.” 

That single word—and maybe his tongue exploring your hip, makes you squirm. 

“I like it,” he affirms again. 

“Really?” 

You sound so incredulous. 

“Yes. And, let me tell you something I hope you carry with you after this weekend. Anyone who gives head as good as you do deserves cunnilingus. Copiously.”

You giggle a little, and your panties are dragged down your hips. 

“Frank?”

“Present,” he says to your pubic bone, brushing your downy curls with the tip of his nose.

“I—”

But then his tongue touches your center, and you absolutely forget what you were going to say. 

“You can take as long as you want, baby.” 

The flat of his tongue running up your slit is a marvel, and you don’t think this will take long at all. “Oh.” It only gets better, as this man toys with your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing you languorously. Pleasure begins to fill in between your legs, a warm, maddening pressure that makes you arch against him. “Oh god... oh fuck...You're really... good at this.” 

He moans in answer against you, that deep grumble that vibrates through your entire body. The most brilliant feeling coils and throbs inside you, insistent and inevitable.

“Frank... I'm going to cum.”

He makes a sound of encouragement, or so you assume. This orgasm breaks over you like the dawn, slow and scintillating, warm as sunlight. The tingling rush fills the cradle of your hips and spreads up your spine. You arch off the mattress, fighting not to crush his head between your thighs as this consuming sensation has its way with you. He licks you through the aftershocks, until you writhe and beg for mercy from overstimulation. 

He wipes his mouth on the sheets before climbing up your body, claiming your lips in a deep kiss. You can taste yourself on him, earthy with a hint of salt. You feel the blunt tip of him nudging at your entrance, and you crave the stretch of him entering your body like you need air to breathe. 

“Please?”

He slides inside you like you have always been his to claim, rocking his hips slowly until he's sheathed to the hilt. You are so sensitive after orgasming on his tongue, but it's wonderful. Everything is wonderful, and you wrap your legs around his hips, somehow managing to pull him deeper with a heel on his firm buttocks. 

“Fuck,” he sighs into the bend of your neck. “You are—” He bites down on whatever he was going to say about you, making another primal sound that raises gooseflesh all over your body. He takes this round slow too, and you love just feeling him, running your hands over the powerful contours of his body, the muscles of his arms and back as he unhurriedly fucks you into the mattress. 

“Think you can cum again?” he asks between kisses.

“I…don’t know,” you answer truthfully. The first orgasm was so complete—and the two before that, don’t forget—and you’re feeling pretty fucking satisfied with this day.

“Hmm. Can I flip you over?”

Although you’ll be sad to lose him in this perfectly connected missionary position, you nod. Maybe it was feeling too intimate for him. It was certainly…intense, for you, and maybe you need to pump the brakes before you start catching all these feelings for this man who obviously isn’t optimistic about the staying power of human relationships.

But then, you can’t help but muse, as he positions you on your stomach with pillows under your hips, that he doesn’t touch you like something disposable meant for his own pleasure. He touches you like he might break you if he’s not careful, like he can’t quite believe you’re real under his big hands and strong fingers.

Again he sheathes himself inside you, and a ragged moan is your reward as you tilt your hips and clench around him. You look up to find you can see the two of you reflected in the vintage full length mirror in the corner of the room.

The two of you should look absolutely look ridiculous like this, with your ass in the air, naked, joined. But all you can think is that this moment is beautiful. “Take off your shirt,” you request, and after considering you for a moment, tilting his head to make that lovely dark hair swing down around his eyes, he complies for you.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, and it is utterly electric, a primal thing you feel in the very marrow of your bones, your walls fluttering around his cock buried inside you. You really didn’t think it possible, but just looking at him like this turns you on all over again. “You are gorgeous,” you tell him, and just for a moment his fingers tighten on the meat of your hips, maybe hard enough to bruise.

You don’t mind.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“Only if you mean it.”

“You are,” he answers without hesitation, and he begins to move, sliding completely out of you before plunging back into your tight little hole. He loses himself like that for a minute, using you for his pleasure and you gladly take it all.

“Why don’t you touch yourself?” he pants, slowing down inside you. You feel the strain of it in his back, the shudder in his arms.

“What?”

“Never tried it?”

Not with someone else in bed with you.

“No.” You’ve never been that comfortable with anyone.

“No time like the present.” The glide of his manhood inside you is maddening, his thickness stretching you in such a delicious way.

“You don’t mind that?”

“I’d love it. Take your pleasure, y/n. Use me. Cum on my dick again, I want to feel it.”

He seems so intent on it that you don’t want to deny him. Tentatively you reach between your legs, finding your swollen clit with your middle fingers, the way you would if you were alone…and oh. This is good, with him inside you. Inadvertently you clench harder, chasing your orgasm, the possibility of release not so elusive as you’d thought it would be.

“Yeah, like that baby,” he coaxes, and you glance up to see him with his head thrown back, concentrating on moving rhythmically inside you, for you. The thought fills you with such warmth, it’s as much of a turn on as his cock or your sticky little fingers. He bends over you, bracing himself with one arm so that he can touch your nipple, flicking you between his fingers in a way that sends sparks of pleasure straight to your groin, like throwing gasoline on a bonfire. You whimper, wanting it so badly suddenly and utterly surprised its even possible. You literally did not know your body was capable of this.

“So good,” Frank coaxes in your ear, the soft scruff of his beard against your cheek. “That’s my good girl, give it to me.”

You’re not sure what tips you over the edge; the praise, or the feeling of him utterly surrounding you while completely filling you, the timbre of his deep voice or his clever fingers on your tits or the way he moves his hips, but suddenly you are lost—the explosion of your orgasm hits you with a force that makes you see colors, bright oranges and yellows and peridot greens dance in your mind as your greedy cunt flutters on his cock.

Frank sinks his teeth in your shoulder as he thrusts quickly and deeply inside you, chasing your pleasure and soon following with his own, groaning into your hair. His hips snap against the pillow of your rear end, driving himself as deep as he can as he spills inside you. You feel the hot rush deep in your core, the aftershocks of your orgasm milking him further.

He collapses on top of you; you are too spent to protest. This is how you die; smothered by this beautiful man after the most mind-bending coitus of your life. Eventually you make a muffled sound that sort of sounds like, “I can’t breathe.”

With a satisfied sigh he shifts slightly, but does not abandon you, his heavy arm still looped over your waist, his manhood still sheathed inside you. His breathing deepens behind you, and you find you have zero interest in dislodging him. This is all too sweet, too perfect to be real. You doze together like that for at least half an hour.

He’s the one who stirs first behind you, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear. “This has got to be the most decadent day of my life,” he muses into your hair. “Three rounds of incredible unprotected sex with a beautiful woman I just met a day ago. There has to be some catch. The gods will punish us accordingly for living too well.”

“Is it that hard to believe we’re allowed to have something good for ourselves once in a while?”

“Yes. That’s not how life works. What’s the success rate of a modern IUD?”

“99.8 percent.”

“Hmm. It’s not perfect.”

You snort, if not sleepily.

“Believe me, I am not looking to be a mother any time soon.”

“Ever?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really heard the tick tock of the maternal clock everyone talks about. Giving my life over to the thankless servitude of motherhood doesn’t appeal to me, for some reason.”

“Oh good. I was afraid I was the only one with mommy issues.”

“I do not have mommy issues.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Ok, maybe my mother and I are sort of at odds.”

 “Here we go.”

“She’s never really seemed happy in her conventional stay-at-home mother life-path, but she definitely tried to push it on me as the best choice when I was almost too young to know better.”

“There it is.”

“You don’t have to sound so pleased about it.”

He chuckles sleepily, pulling you closer into the warm shelter of his broader body. “Misery loves company.”

“What about you?”

“What what about me?”

“Do you…want kids?”

“I would rather be dead in a ditch.”

“Wow. Ok then.”

“Being alive is such a miserable farce, why would I knowingly inflict it on innocent children?”

You sigh, lacing your fingers with his. “Suddenly, it doesn’t seem all bad.”

“Think of all the pain you’ve gone through to get to this moment. Or maybe, that perfect, fleeting moment a little while ago, more like, the afterglow of which we are still enjoying. Was that really worth it?”

“Maybe.”

“For a half-tolerable day with a stranger who you’re never going to see again?”

This causes you to freeze in his grasp, holding your breath. For a long moment you feel like even your heart ceases to beat. “You…never want to see me again?”

It’s his turn to still behind you. “Not necessarily. That’s just…how these things go.” You can’t tell if he’s sad about it, or just resigned, the way he’s resigned to everything being total shit.

“They…don’t have to? If we decide…different?”

“Come on, honey. Please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Take exception to feeling like a throw away cocksleeve?”

“Did you expect me to propose?”

“Of course not. I just…you couldn’t even pretend until tomorrow morning that maybe I meant a little to you?”

Suddenly your throat is too tight, and your vision is clouded with tears. It hurts. Everything just hurts, and somehow it hurts worse now than when this whole fucking misadventure started.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, sliding out of bed. The air feels so cold without his furnace of a body wrapped around you.

“Y/n. Please don’t go.”

“Being around you feels like being electrocuted,” you blurt, looking desperately through the bedclothes for your panties. Where the fuck did he put them?

He slumps at hearing that, suddenly very interested in the wall.

“I get that a lot.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” you try to explain, unable to see very well through the film of your tears. Great. Nothing like having an argument with your beaver out.

“Oh yes. The good kind of electrocution,” he snarks, though there is a spark of what might be hope in his dark eyes.

“There is just something about you. You don’t mince words for anyone, you constantly tell the truth, and it’s exciting and low key uncomfortable, and I get some weird little rush out of knowing you might insult me any minute and then I get to verbally spar with you and you have some brilliant riposte for anything I say, it’s the most fun I’ve had with any man in a long time, and this whole weekend I’ve had this prickly heat just crawling under my skin and I’m pretty sure it’s your fault.”

 “You really talk it up, when you put it that way.”

You are so relieved, when anger arrives on the battlefield, and you’re able to get your shit together well enough to actually think.

“Look,” you say forcefully, pointing at him. “I usually fucking hate it when people say things happen for a reason.”

“Yes. It’s incredibly conceited.”

“Right. Because it implies when bad things happen to people who don’t deserve it, it was good somehow?”

“Go on.”

“But what if…”

“Oh God.”

“What if we met here, for a reason? Like my whole horrible fucking ordeal with Keith was somehow a trial…that brought me here to you?”

Immediately he shakes his head, something like panic in his eyes.

“Oh no. We’re not doing the this was meant to be thing.”

“You won’t even consider the sliver of a possibility?”

“You don’t even like me.”

“Who said I don’t like you?”

“No one likes me!”

“I do like you.”

He actually growls at this, as though the concept is so foreign, the possibility is terrifying.

But you also know that getting involved with a man like this is a bit like petting an abused dog. At any moment if it perceives you look at it wrong, it might snap, it might hurt you. With words, in Frank’s case, but to your tender heart that’s almost the same as taking a physical blow. Yet…you do not care. Because when things are good with this man…they are splendid, and you feel like it’s worth the price.

It’s worth a try, at any rate.

Yet the way he is looking at you—it doesn’t look good.

“You really don’t think this thing we have is special at all?”

You hate how much it hurts, to ask this question.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I am resigned to the fact that this will go no further than this weekend. These things never do. I’ll say I’ll call you, or you’ll say you’ll visit me, but it just never happens, and we waste our time on that glimmer of hope for some tiny aspect of life to not turn out to be complete shit—just to have it snatched away by the march of time.”

“Jesus, it’s so fucking terrible when you say it that way.”

“It’s just the truth. It’s life.”

You shake your head, whirling to go, panties or no. He can watch your bare ass as you walk out of his life forever.

“Wait, come on, don’t go.”

“Why not? What’s the point? What’s the point of anything?”

“Living in the moment?”

“Well, in this moment, I kind of feel like shit, so I think I’ll bounce.”

“Please don’t go.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because you like my company?”

“Yes.”

“Is it so fucking hard to admit that?”

“Yes, because any time I ever have the naivety to admit the slightest fondness for anything, the universe finds a way to snatch it away.”

You march back to the bed, jumping up to sit on the corner just out of reach with your arms crossed. You wait, looking around.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting to see if the universe strikes me dead.”

He gives that growling sigh that you are finding increasingly endearing as you get to know him. “Come here,” he says, holding out his arms.

Finally you crawl to him, and some restlessness settles inside you when he pulls you against him. From the small sigh he gives, you think he might feel the same way, and his grip tightens on you a little more. You’re not sure who kisses who, exactly, just that your mouths are pressed together, and for a little longer it seems like something is going right in the world.  

“If you haven’t noticed…I’m kind of a huge asshole.”

“Yeah,” you agree, and he snorts into the top of your head. “But you know what? You’re also kind of sweet…sometimes.”

“It’s a curse.”

“Only if you treat it that way.”

It just makes him hold you harder.

“No one can put up with me for long, y/n. Not even my own mother. My own father tried to kill me. It’s just facts. That’s why we’re going to enjoy the rest of this weekend, and when we get back home, we’re going to part as friends.”

You sigh, leaning even more against him. The film of tears is back, and you hide under his chin.

“You’re not even willing to try?”

“I’m doing you a favor. Believe me. I am what I am and it’s too late to fix me.”

“What if I don’t think you’re broken?”

“Very funny.”

“I meant it when I said I like you.”

“I like you too. It’s more than I can say for most people. Want to watch a movie or something?”

You nod, and you settle in together under the blanket to watch some stupid action flick. You can’t really focus on it, because Frank’s arms are around you, and it still feels like you have a live wire sparking under your skin.

#destination wedding #frank x you #frank x reader #frank x y/n #destination wedding frank x you #frank MrNiceCaboose x you :)))))) #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #vino veritas destination wedding fic #frank reeves x you

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 54: Alexander's Tutor

Prev > Masterlist

December 1815

Despite being wrapped in several layers of wool with hat, gloves, and scarf to match, the winter wind was chilling Lex to the bone. The evening was clear, with a bright moon overhead, and deceptively cold. Lex couldn't fathom why his voice teacher had chosen to hold practice so late in the dead of winter, yet another of his eccentricities. If he weren't one of the finest tutors in the region -- stern but fair and deeply knowledgeable -- Lex would have surely gone elsewhere by now.

But music was his heart's great passion, and he'd already seen such improvement under Master Laurent's tutelage. He really had no choice but to brave the winter and hope that his vocal cords weren't frozen solid by the time he arrived. So he soldiered onward, trying hard not to think about how much more pleasant it would be back in his chambers, curled up by the fire with a good book.

"There you are!"

Lex was suddenly clapped on the back by a strong hand. He turned to look into the grinning face of his close companion Anders. Anders was wearing only a sweater, not even a hat, his unruly mop of blonde hair gleaming in the moonlight. "Aren't you cold?" Lex asked.

"No. I'm made of sturdy stock," he said, laughing. "But you must be cold, seeing as you're bundled up so tight I could barely tell who it was."

"If you ask me, I'm the one who is being sensible," Lex said. "Without a hat, your ears are going to freeze and fall off. What would Master Laurent say if you went deaf?"

"I wouldn't mind. I wouldn't have to hear Thomas's awful squawking right behind me." Anders leaned in to look at Lex's face. "Are your teeth chattering?"

"No," said Lex, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

"Poor little princeling, can't handle the cold."

"I'm certainly not a princeling."

"A little lordling, then. Don't worry, my lord, if you can't make it to your practice, I'll have to carry you."

"What --" Lex had no time to protest before Anders scooped him up in his arms and began to dash down the street, laughing at the top of his lungs. He couldn't help but cling to Anders's sweater. "Anders! You're going to slip on the ice!"

"And drop my lordling? Never."

"I hope your ears do fall off."

"What a rude thing to say to me, while I hold your very life in my hands!"

Anders looked down at Lex with that beaming smile, and Lex couldn't stop his heart from fluttering. He was a handsome lad, and Lex had been struggling with feelings he'd rather not entertain for some years now. Stunts like this were certainly not helping.

When Lex and Anders arrived at their lesson, cheeks red with cold and laughter, the choir room seemed strangely colder than usual. Master Laurent had a roaring fire in the hearth, as he always did -- it wasn't the temperature that was different, exactly, but the atmosphere. Master Laurent himself was standing behind his podium, busily arranging music sheets. Some of the other young men were huddled in the corner, whispering amongst themselves.

There was a strange man standing near Master Laurent, tall and thin and dressed all in black, with a foreboding nature about him. He was looking at the students with an expression that somehow conveyed both indifference and disdain, and seemed to be the source of the frigid mood. Something about his sharp gaze made Lex feel uneasy -- but thankfully, he barely paid Lex and Anders any mind as they took their places for practice.

"Quiet and take your places. It's time to begin," said Master Laurent, standing up straight. "Today, I've invited… an acquaintance of mine to observe the class, one who also happens to be an excellent music tutor. Now, let's begin our vocal exercises…"

Lex thought it a bit strange that Master Laurent hadn't introduced his acquaintance by name, but that thought was quickly driven from his head as he concentrated solely on his music. He had the finest voice in the choir, and it wasn't mere boastfulness for him to say so -- he had been told by respectable men, even Master Laurent himself, that his voice was unusually clear and arresting, effortlessly capturing a listener's attention with its rich tones. His voice, his skill at the piano, and his carefully curated collection of books were his chief joys in life, and it was easy for him to become lost in the music as he sang, feeling almost driven by a power greater than him.

That is, it was usually easy for him to focus. Tonight, however, he was becoming all too aware that he was being observed. A nervous glance revealed what he suspected -- the stranger in black was no longer regarding the group of boys with detachment. Instead, his gaze was trained on Lex and Lex alone, piercing as an arrow.

Lex swallowed hard and steeled his determination. Well, if this man wanted a performance, he would give him one. He'd show Master Laurent's acquaintance why he was the finest young voice at the university, and make his teacher proud. With confidence backed by talent, he hit every difficult note in the solo, his voice ringing from the rafters and holding the rest of the chorus spellbound.

Finally, practice was over. The stranger finally left his post to whisper something to Master Laurent, and freed from the weight of his gaze, Lex turned to Anders.

"Impressive," said Anders. "I've never heard you sing like that. You performed that solo as if you were possessed by a muse."

"I felt like I had no choice. That strange man was staring at me the entire time."

"Was he? I was trying to ignore him."

"Alexander?" Master Laurent was waving him to the front of the classroom. "A moment of your time before you leave."

"Yes, sir," said Lex. "You go ahead, Anders. I'll catch up to you once I'm done."

As he walked over to Master Laurent, Lex realized that the stranger was already gone.

"I have an exciting opportunity for you, Alexander," said Master Laurent. "One which you shouldn't refuse."

"What is it?"

"My acquaintance was so impressed by your voice that he wants to offer you private vocal lessons."

"I'm flattered, sir, but I already have private lessons with you."

Master Laurent looked pained for some reason. "His talent surpasses my own, I'm afraid. You won't find a finer music tutor in the country. It's one reason why he's so secretive -- he only takes on students of his choosing, and he chooses very few. He told me that your voice surpasses any he's heard in many years."

"It's kind of him to say so."

"…I don't think he's saying it out of kindness," said Master Laurent. "I strongly encourage you to accept the offer. My reputation is on the line."

Something felt wrong about all of this, but Master Laurent always had a way of setting Lex at ease. Besides, what harm could extra vocal lessons do? "…I suppose I don't see why not, if he's as skilled as you say."

"Excellent! Now, just one thing. My acquaintance is very private. He even keeps his name hidden. What's more, if the rest of the chorus learns that you've received an opportunity they have not, it might create bad blood between you. That's why I'm asking you to tell no one about this, not even Anders."

Lex wanted to protest, but truthfully, he knew Anders probably would be jealous. "All right. May I at least write to mother and father about this?"

Master Laurent looked oddly pained. "He really prefers his privacy," he said. "Besides, won't your parents be surprised when they attend the holiday concert and hear your improved voice? Don't you think that would delight them, if they didn't know beforehand?"

Lex nodded slowly. His parents didn't always take his musical talent seriously, preferring if he went into a more practical trade. It would especially be good to impress his father.

"Good, now that that's decided," his teacher said. He took a slip of paper and scrawled an address on it. "Here. It isn't far. Go here tomorrow evening at eight o'clock sharp, and knock three times at the door. Don't be tardy -- he won't accept tardiness. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Lex said, trying to shake off the odd dread that had consumed him.

"Good, good. Run along now."

"Thank you, Master Laurent, and have a good evening."

"Wait!"

His teacher's voice stopped Lex at the door.

"…You're a good student, Alexander. One of the best. You always have been."

What an odd thing to stop Lex to say. After all, he had another lesson with Master Laurent in just two days, and he always praised Lex when he'd done well. "Thank you, sir," he said, putting the slip of paper in his pocket and heading back out into the harsh winter wind.

Prev > Masterlist

Thank you for reading this brief interlude into the past. Next, back to Oliver.

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#whump #whump writing #alexander #anders

[typicalopposite]

Hmmmmm…… yall ready for the Tommy backstory brain worm I just thought of whilst shopping the grocery store aisles… ( @onthewaytosomewhere we were just talking about me wanting this back and now I lowkey regret it!)

First off I’m all for a Tommy begins but I don’t know how they are gonna shrink him back down to s2 Tommy size and if they recast I will be sad… second, This one’s long and definitely gonna be more that one part sooo yeah, I guess I do that now 😂 I knew it was gonna get away from me as soon as I started it! BUT anyway imagine with me if you will…

Buck is coming off that first shift under Gerrard… he’s annoyed and tired and confused and he calls Tommy to let him know he made it home.

“Babe you’re not going to believe the bullshit I just had to deal with…”

Tommy laughs and asks if Hen was using her Interim Captain authority to still give him a hard time about not coming out to her before the wedding…

“No…” Buck says, a broken half hearted laugh. If only it were something that simple… Instead he says something Tommy never would have guessed in a millions years. “Gerrard is our new captain.”

The sound of the glass Tommy had been drying to put up shattering as it hits the floor startles them both. “Wh- What did you just say…” Tommy asks, ignoring Buck asking what just happened. Buck lets it go easy enough and tells him everything… and Tommy feels like he might pass out…

He feels like he is back in that station under that asshole again…

When he first started at the 118 he got the normal probie treatment; your higher ups are dicks… your captain gives you a hard time to see how good you are… if you’re even good at all. But Tommy was fresh out of the army.. he wasn’t weak by any means, and he’d had his fair share of workplace bullies to know how to take care of himself.

Plus there’s one guy there, Sal… he’s ok, Tommy guesses. He’s not as much of a jerk as the other guys are. They strike up a friendship. Before long the captain takes a liking to him too. Gerrard says he sees real potential in Tommy… begins to take him under his wing, in a way. Things actually aren’t too bad. Until they become terrible…

It’s been a hell of a shift. They are covered in soot and sweat and blood, and they all need showers. Afterwards, Sal walks over to his locker that’s right down from Tommy’s; a towel around his waist, water droplets still sprinkled over his body.

Suddenly the air feels like it’s thick in the room. The temperature is rising and— and Tommy has done this nearly everyday before… plus Sal is his friend… not to mention straight as an arrow… so why Tommy suddenly is finding it extremely difficult to avert his eyes is beyond him.

He stares for maybe a moment, definitely no longer, before finally managing to shake himself out of it. He pulls his shirt over his head and grabs his bag before turning on his heels and beelining it out of the locker room. Sal calls after him, “What’s the rush, T?” Tommy just makes some lame excuse and keeps walking.

“Kinard!” Gerrard’s voice booms from above. Tommy looks up and the captain. He is leaning on the railing; a straight shot view to the locker rooms.

“Y-Yes sir?”

Gerrard stares at him, and if he saw anything… he never says, the the sudden glare in his eye, that he had never had before when looking at Tommy says he definitely did. “See you tomorrow…”

part two

#911 #911 drabble #911 ficlet #911 speculation #911 season 8 #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #vincent gerrard #tommy begins #this is gonna get a lot worse before it gets better I’m afraid #take this as your warning #tw homophobia

[tofics]

Broken - Chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: A year has passed since Joel and Ellie have returned to Jackson when he finds you on patrol, half frozen and half burning up. Jackson takes you in and nurses you back to health, welcoming you as the newest member of their community. The more time passes, Joel realizes that you and him have more in common than he likes... Until one day, everything changes and you get a gift that he'll never get.

Word Count: 5912 words

This chapter is very dark. Reader discretion is advised.

Warnings: Implications of SA, mention of cannibalism, panic attacks, implications of self-harm, cursing, implications of murder, blood.

Chapter 3 - Worse Than A Monster

As time passes, winter slowly makes way for spring in Jackson. The snow begins to melt and turns everything into a muddy landscape, brown and grey replacing the white canvas as more and more of the land begins to thaw. Those weeks are the worst to be outside. Where it previously snowed it now comes down in rain, heavy and relentless and adding to the already soggy ground. Your horses' hoofs often sink a few inches into the mud and you come back drenched and soiled from your patrols.

One morning, the rain is coming down so heavy that you can barely see outside of your bedroom window. Unsure whether it's safe to take the horses out in this weather, you decide to swing by Joel's first and see if you can catch him before he leaves for the stables.

It takes you longer than usual to get to his house. You keep slipping in the mud and the rain is making it hard to see where you're going. When you finally make it to his backdoor, there's two big splotches of mud on your knees from where you slipped and fell on your way over. You shed your rainboots and raincoat by the door, not wanting to drag that mess with you into the house and then step into the kitchen. Even though it's empty, it's warm and cozy and smells like Joel and Ellie. You've come to love this room, having spent so much evenings here over the past two months.

"Joel?" You call out, but there's no response. You call out again, but get the same result. The rain is drumming against the windows of the house and you figure Joel might've not heard you, so you decide to head upstairs.

His bedroom door is ajar, his bed unmade, but Joel isn't anywhere to be found. Shit, probably missed him. You turn back with a sigh, not too happy with the idea of having to return to the rain as you pass by Ellie's door. To your surprise, you hear her mumbled voice from behind the door, despite the early morning hour. You raise your hand to knock when you hear another voice mixing with Ellie's giggle. She's got someone over. You realize it's another girl and you can't help but smile, happy that Ellie has found some friends in this community. Even though you know you shouldn't, you lean your ear against the doorframe to listen.

"Have you ever seen a penis before?" You hear the other girl asks and you feel color raising to your cheeks. This is definitely not a conversation you should be listening to.

"Ew!" Ellie's voice reverberates through the door and the two girls break out into giggles again. "Gross! No!"

The other girl laughs. "Okay, okay! I just thought, you know, because you live with Joel..."

"Ewwwwwww," Ellie howls and you grin. Nothing quite like a teenager's embarrassment over genitalia. "Why would you even say that! Yuck!" You hear the thump of a pillow and more giggles. "That's like me asking if you've seen your dad's penis!"

You smile to yourself and tip-toe over to the staircase, not wanting to raise attention to yourself. Let the teenagers be teenagers, you think, but then freeze when you hear Ellie's tone as she speaks again.

"I almost did, though. I mean not Joel's, no, gross. But..." There's a pause. You don't know why, but before you realize it, your feet have carried you back to Ellie's door. Something about the way she said it has pricked something in your gut.

"But what?"

You hear the muffled sounds of shifting blankets. When Ellie speaks again, her voice is so low that you're straining to hear her words.

"Uhh... when Joel and I were still traveling around, we came across some people." She pauses again and you feel your pulse picking up. Something tells you that whatever she's about to say, it won't be good.

"They were running low on food, I guess, so they'd started eating their own people."

Your stomach turns and you hear the other girl gasp. "Did they eat their penises too?"

"No! I don't know. Maybe. That's not the point." You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regulate your breathing. The fact that Ellie ever came across such monsters... You can feel your morning coffee threatening to come back up and press a hand to your mouth.

"They followed this one guy who was a preacher or something. I don't know. One of their people had hurt Joel and I was trading them for medicine with a deer I'd shot, but things went wrong when they found out that it was Joel who the medicine was for, because he'd killed the guy who'd stabbed him. I mean, it was self-defense, but obviously they didn't care very much about that.

Anyway, my trade goes to shit and they take me into their little jail or whatever, and when I refuse to trust them and join their little hunger club, this preacher guy starts threatening me about how I'll be their lunch next."

There's dead silence behind Ellie's door. You keep your hand pressed to your mouth, afraid that if you take it down, a sound or bile will come out; maybe both.

"I managed to fight them, but that son of a bitch of a preacher just wouldn't let go. Next thing I know, the entire place is on fire, and even though there were flames, like, right next to us, that fucker climbed on top of me, and he..."

Your legs carry you down the stairs and out through the backdoor in a blitz before you can catch the end of the sentence. You throw yourself over the railing of the back porch and spew out this morning's coffee and whatever little remains were still in your stomach from last night's dinner. The rain is still coming down heavy and think, washing away the remnants of your stomach as quickly as they came out and soaking your head and sweatshirt, but you don't care. You don't even really notice.

There's the sound of white noise in your ears, paired with a high pitched ringing. You cling to the railing as your heart runs in your chest. Flashes of images you've tried to bury in the back of your head dance in front of you. You can still see them when you squeeze your eyes shut, a playback from hell that you seem unable to stop.

You stumble as you scramble for your rainboots and coat. Your fingers refuse to work, fiddling with the zipper of your raincoat before giving up. Whether it's rain or tears running down your cheeks, you don't know. More than once, you stumble on the slick roads and fall to the ground. There's a sharp pain in the palm of your hand the first time you fall down, then in your knee when you slip for the second time. None of it matters. The pain barely registers with your brain as you tumble back to your house, the high pitched ringing and white noise still blocking out your ears. Somewhere between Joel's house and yours, your hood slips down and your hair is drenched within seconds, but you make no attempt to pull the hood back over your head. You just have to get home. Get away.

Joel finds you in your bedroom. He halts in the doorframe when he sees that you're not fully dressed. For the briefest of seconds, his eyes flit across your bum, partially covered by the panties you're wearing. Then you're already turned around, scurrying from the closet back to the open bag on your bed and he sees the wound on your knee, muddy and leaking blood down your leg in a single, long stripe.

He quickly takes in the rest of the scene in front of him. There's a pile of wet and muddy jeans by the bed, next to a drenched hoodie. Clothes and various objects are strewn across the room, as if having been picked up and then quickly disregarded again. You're in the midst of the chaos, running back and forth between the piles on the ground, your drawer and your closet, gathering things and then tossing them again.

He clears his throat to alert you of his presence, but you don't stop, don't even glance his way. Instead, you grab a pair of jeans from the top of your closet and shove them into your bag. Joel says your name then, but you just dash over to your dresser. To Joel's alarm, you hurry back to the bed with a couple of cases of ammo.

With two quick strides, he crosses through the room and takes you by the arms before saying your name again. Finally, you show a sign of recognition at the mention of your name. "Oh, hey Joel," you mumble and shimmy out of his grip to return to your closet.

"What's going on?" He tries to keep his voice steady, but what he's seeing has him worried. In the few months that he's known you, he's never seen you like this. You have your moments where you draw back into yourself, but this? This borders on mental breakdown, if it hasn't already crossed the line.

You rush back to the bed and fish out a pair of boots from underneath it. "Just packing some things," you say as you walk into the en-suite. You return with a toothbrush and toothpaste in hand which you promptly stuff into the slowly filling bag on the bed.

"I can see that," Joel replies warily. Adding to his confusion, you give him a quick smile as you shimmy past him to retrieve a jacket that's dangling from the curtain rod.

"Where're you goin'?"

"Just got some business I gotta take care of," comes your answer from the room next door. Then you scurry back into the room and drop two rolls of toilet paper into your bag before Joel catches your wrist, stopping you before you can flit off again.

"Hey," he says and his tone is warm, his eyes kind and full of concern. "What happened? What's going on?"

You push his hand off your wrist and turn away from him. The look in his eyes is threatening to get through to you, and you can't have that. You need to concentrate on the task at hand, and he's distracting you.

"You can go, Joel," you dismiss him, but he doesn't budge.

"I ain't goin' nowhere until you tell me what's goin' on."

It's the annoyance over his refusal to leave that pulls you out of your state a little. You turn back to him with an angry look on your face. "I told you. I have some business I have to take care of." You return your attention to the bottom drawer in front of you. Socks, socks, you think. How many socks will I need? You decide that there's no such thing as too many socks and swiftly take the entire drawer out to dump all of its contents into your bag on the bed.

"Alright, enough." Joel puts his arms around the drawer you're holding in an attempt to take it out of your hands, but you refuse. A short war of tug-and-pull promptly ensues. "Let - go!" you press out between clenched teeth. Joel doesn't reply and instead manages to wrestle the large wooden compartment out of your hands. He quickly discards it on the bed before he grabs both your wrists again and pulls you closer to him.

"Do you know what you look like right now?" His voice is hushed and coated with anger. You couldn't care less as you tug on your arms, struggling to get free. "You're running around like a goddamn maniac. You're bleeding, for god's sake!" Joel shakes the wrist of your left arm, forcing your palm to turn upwards so you can see the cut at the bottom of it.

"I slipped," you mumble as you stare at the laceration. Your brows furrow as if you're only now realizing that you're wounded. "I slipped in the rain." The longer you stare at your wound, the more present it becomes. A sharp sting crawls up your left arm and you flinch back at the sensation. Through the noise in your ears, you hear Joel saying your name again. You blink up at him and are met with a stare of concern and anger. You recoil at the sight of it. Why does he care?

He scoffs as you relay the question to him. "How could I not? You don't show up for your shift and then I find you like this!" He lets go of your wrists then to widen his arms, gesturing around the room. You look around briefly, registering the chaos and piles of stuff everywhere for the first time. Did I do that?, you wonder, but quickly shrug it off. Doesn't matter. I gotta go.

You turn back towards your en-suite, but before you can take so much as two steps, your feet suddenly lift from the ground. You screech in surprise and then begin to flail around when you realize that Joel has picked you up and is carrying you out of your room.

Despite your heavy protest and flailing limbs, Joel carries you down to your living room where he unceremoniously drops you on your couch. Once you touch down, you immediately scramble to get back up, but Joel is quicker than you and pushes you down into the cushions by your shoulders. "Let - me - go!" you strain, but he doesn't let up.

Instead, he kneels so you're eye-to-eye with him. "Look at me. Look at me!" he commands, and you unwillingly obey. You stare into his eyes, yours full of fury and hatred for the man who is keeping you from what you need to do.

"What!" It comes out as a snarl, your tone matching the anger in your eyes.

"If you have somewhere to go, that's fine, but I'm not letting you up from this couch until you tell me where you need to go and why."

His face shows an unbreaking determination that just adds to your fury. You glare at him as the silence stretches on between you, unwilling to explain yourself to him. You wiggle a few times to get his arms off your shoulders, but he doesn't budge one bit, just keeps his eyes on yours.

The longer he holds you down, the more your anger slowly dissipates. Your eyes begin to glisten and he feels a hint of pain in his chest. What the hell happened to you?, he wonders and is afraid to learn the answer. When he saw you at dinner yesterday evening, you seemed fine, your usual, nothing out of place. What happened in those few hours between dinner and now?

Your head slumps down as the first sob escapes you, quickly followed by more. Tears drip down onto your bare legs and you begin to shiver as the adrenaline leaves your body; the aftermath a mess of cold, shaking limbs. Joel reaches for a nearby blanket and drapes it around you, trying to cover as much of your shaking body as the blanket will allow. He tries tugging it over your thighs when he sees the faint white lines running horizontally across your skin. There's so many of them.

When he realizes he's staring, he quickly tugs on the fabric again until your thighs are covered too. You don't seem to have noticed or care; sobs still breaking out of you like before. He rubs your back gently over the scratchy material of the blanket, a soothing gesture for the lack of soothing words he can't find.

Eventually, your tears let up a little. You pull your legs close to your chest, tugging your feet under the blanket and run an arm over your nose. It comes away full of snot, which you rub off against the blanket.

"You wanna tell me now what's going on?"

You don't meet his eyes. Shame is pooling in your stomach, hot and full of bile at the state he's seen you in. It takes you a moment to find your voice.

"There's... something I gotta go take care of." Your voice is barely more than a whisper, croaky and thick from the snot that's running down the back of your throat.

"People," you add and briefly meet his gaze, your eyes adding the meaning that your words left out.

Joel thinks about the lines on your thighs and digests your words. "These people. They hurt you?"

You huff at his question and another round of tears springs from your eyes. A single nod confirms his question.

Joel grunts. "They hurt someone you love?"

You feel the taste of bile in the back of your throat at his words. A shudder runs through your spine and you pull the blanket closer around you in search of comfort. Suddenly, you wish you were still in your frenzy, full of adrenaline and empty of all these feelings that are churning you up and spitting you out.

It takes a while before you can speak again without worrying that you might throw up. "Umh. I'll talk to Tommy, see if he can find a replacement for me for morning patrol."

There's a sigh from Joel. He's shaking his head when you look at him. "You don't gotta worry about that. I'll talk to him. He'll find someone to cover for both of us."

"Both of us?!" You look at him in bewilderment.

"You think I'm letting you out there on your own?"

Not what he should have said. Whatever bit of vulnerability you allowed him to see just a moment ago quickly gets shoved away behind a curtain of white-hot anger. "Oh, yeah? Because I can't handle myself?" You throw the blanket off your shoulders and stalk over to the kitchen. "I've lived 37 years without you, Joel, I think I'll do just fine!"

Joel rubs his face and groans as you march off. The fuck did I go wrong this morning?, he thinks but then gets up to follow you. His own words had surprised him a little, no doubt. You had a point, you'd barely known each other for more than three months, and here he was, offering himself up for whatever revenge-mission you had suddenly decided to go on. What about Ellie?, a voice asks in his head, and he immediately feels a twinge of guilt.

He finds you in your bathroom, patching up your wounds, or at least trying to. You've already tended to the cut on your knee and are now trying to wrap a bandage around the palm of your hand, but your free hand is shaking too much. Joel takes the bandage from you and carefully wraps it around the cut and wrist. Once you're all bandaged up, you shove past him into your bedroom and quickly pull on fresh clothes, acutely aware of the fact that you're running around in underwear and a t-shirt.

"I didn't mean that you couldn't handle yourself. It's just safer not to go alone."

He watches you as you don't reply and just stuff things into your bag.

"I know we don't get a lot of raiders or infected around here, but they're out there. I know you know that, you're not stupid." This earns him a glare, but you continue packing wordlessly.

"You don't have to take me. Hell, I probably shouldn't even go. I'm old and rusty, and I got Ellie to look after."

You look at the contents of your bag, then flip it upside down, shaking all of it out onto the bed. Joel thinks he's won for a second, but then you start re-packing everything, just with more precision.

"Just take someone with you, okay? 'M sure someone will come with you. I know some of the youngsters are itchin' to get out there."

You huff in frustration. "I can't just taking anyone with me, much less some young idiot who's never had to look after his own butt and doesn't know how to shoot a damn gun. And what makes you think that someone will just want to come with?! I'm not going on a supply run, Joel, I'm going to end what I should have ended years ago. Some-one, if you haven't caught on by now."

"Yeah no, I got that. Just think it's a dumb idea to go at it alone." He's standing in your doorframe, arms crossed, blocking your exit.

"Please." You roll your eyes as you push your socks into a separate, smaller bag. "I'll be fine. Let it go, Joel."

"'Kay, what if you come across a bunch of infected?"

"Then I'll deal with them." You stuff the smaller bag in between a pair of shoes and two rolls of toilet paper. "Besides, there's worse than infected out there," you mumble under your breath, but Joel hears you clear as day.

"'N what's that?"

Oh, for fuck's sake. When will he let this go!

"People!", you exclaim as you turn to face him. "People, Joel, people!"

"My point exactly!" He throws his hands up in exasperation, but you're quick to interrupt him.

"No, Joel, not fuckin' raiders! I'm talking about FEDRA, you fuckin' idiot!" Your voice has risen to a shout. "You know what's worse than a frickin' raider? Someone with power. Someone who will abuse their power in any way they can. You know what that does to people? You know what they think they can take when they're in charge? Everything, Joel. Everything."

You throw the last few things into the bag and then zip it shut. When you try to shove past Joel in the doorframe, he snags it off your shoulder and takes you by the arm.

"Come with me." It's as much an order as it is a request. Even so, the hold on your arm is strong as he drags you down the stairs and outside into the rain.

The downpour has barely let up since you first stepped a foot outside this morning and it's coming down in buckets. Within a matter of seconds, your second outfit of the day is drenched.

"Where the fuck are we going," you yell over the rain, but Joel doesn't respond, just continues dragging you through the streets until you arrive in his backyard. You're shivering, cold from the wet and the wind, as he points to a pile of wood nearby. You squint at him through the rain, confused.

"Take it out on that," he calls out as he hands you an axe, then places a piece of wood on the chopping block. You just blink at him. Has he lost his mind?

"You need me to chop your firewood?" You wipe an arm across your face, but raindrops quickly gather on your eyelashes again.

"Whatever you're feeling right now, take it out on that, then we can talk again." The rain is running into his eyes and into the back of his neck, but he doesn't waiver, just motions for the piece of wood on the block again.

Fuck it, you think and take your first swing. You split the piece of wood neatly in half. Joel wipes the chunks off of the block and puts a fresh piece on it, then motions for you to go again.

You repeat this process a few times until your chopping becomes faster and faster. You hear Ellie's words from this morning ringing in your head, over and over. "That fucker climbed on top of me, and he..." It plays on a constant loop, accompanied by flashes of pictures of someone that isn't Ellie, trapped under a man's body as she screams and cries for help-

It takes a while to realize that you're screaming yourself. Snot and tears fly from your face as you blindy hack away at the wooden block in front of you, little pieces of wood shooting into the air.

Joel watches from a safe distance as you take your feelings out on the firewood. When you start to scream, Ellie's window on the first floor flies open and two worried faces appear in the frame. "Fuck," Joel mutters under his breath and motions for the two girls to move back and close the window again. "It's okay," he calls out over your distressed wails and the rain. "Ellie, it's okay," he repeats when she doesn't retreat at first. He sees how her eyes wander back and forth between you and him, a mixture of concern and fear on her face. He nods at her once more and finally, she leans back inside and closes the window. Gonna have to deal with that later, he thinks but just then, Tommy comes jogging around the corner of the house, rifle raised.

"Whoa, whoa, Tommy, 's okay, we're good here!" Even though one should never run into the line of a gun, Joel quickly jogs over to Tommy, shielding you with his body in the process. His younger brother squints around him at you, chopping away on the block furiously while you still shout out strangled sounds of pain.

"The fuck's goin' on, Joel?" Tommy's panting and his eyes are wide and alert. "'Dunno quite yet, she's goin' through somethin'," Joel replies quietly so you won't hear. His brother's eyes dart back over to you through the rain. "Uh-huh?"

"Tommy." Joel puts a hand on the barrel and gently pushes it downwards. "She ain't bit. She's just..." He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "'Dunno, man, somethin' set her off and triggered her."

Slowly, Tommy lets his rifle sink down. The two men watch you go at it for a moment. "You sure she ain't bit?" His brothers eyes wander over their surroundings and Joel knows he's looking for infected. "I'm tellin' 'ya, somethin' set her off, jus' don't know what yet. Wouldn't she be tryin' to eat our faces instead of playin' Jack Torrance over there?"

Finally, Tommy swings his rifle back over his shoulder. "Alright," he says in a tone that tells Joel it's anything but alright, and he can't blame his brother. "I got it under control," he assures Tommy. He receives a pat on the back in return and with one last look at you, Tommy jogs back around the house, presumably to tell Maria that no, they're not being overrun with infected.

After a little while, your screaming subsides. Soon after, your motions become slower and slower until you eventually drop the axe to the ground. It lands in a puddle with a thud and a little splash. Realizing that all the fight has gone out of you, Joel makes his way over to you. He reaches you just in time as your knees give out.

"Alright," he grunts as he catches you. He chucks the axe over to a protected dry spot and then swoops you up into his arms.

Ellie opens the backdoor for him and quickly throws a blanket over the couch where Joel sets you down. There's a glazed look in your eyes, like you're far away. Ellie's face is one of pure worry and it tugs at Joel's heart, the way her little heart can feel so deeply for others.

"What happened," Ellie whispers as she studies your face with big eyes. Then she notices the bandage on your palm. "Is she...?", she gasps, but Joel just flicks his tongue. "You think I'd bring her into our house if she was?"

Ellie helps him undress you. The wet clothes stick to your skin like glue, your jeans in particular. You let the two move you around whichever way they turn you, but you make no move to help. It's hard to tell whether you're registering anything that's going on.

Joel sends Ellie up to his room to fetch a pair of his sweatpants and one of his sweaters. When she comes back, she also has a pair of fuzzy socks with her that come out of her own collection. He raises an eyebrow when she hands them to him, but she just shrugs. "Thought they might help."

They speak in hushed whispers as they work around you, replacing your bandages as they go. Once you're dressed in dry clothes, Ellie gets her brush and sits on the backrest of the couch. She slowly untangles your hair and gently brushes through the strands. Joel goes to change out of his own drenched set and heads to the dining hall afterwards. When he comes back, he's loaded with food.

Ellie has finished with your hair and is sitting next to you on the sofa, reading a book. Her eyes light up at the sight of the bag that Joel's carrying. "Whoaaa," she breathes out and wanders over to inspect his loot. "They let you take all this?"

Joel shrugs. "More or less. Told Andrea we can't make it to the dining hall today." He glances over at you, but you're still staring off into the distance. "She say anything at all since I left?" Ellie shakes her head. "No, but I think she liked it when I sat next to her. She sighed once," she replies in an equally hushed voice. Together, they unpack lunch and dinner.

You poke around the plate of food that Joel set down in front of you. Hours have passed since you slowly came to on their couch. There's a numbness inside of you that fills you from head to toe, overshadowing every other sensation. You're not hungry, you're not thirsty, you're not happy or sad. If anything, you're exhausted. Every single muscle in your body aches like you just finished a whole body workout.

While you shift the food around on your plate, Joel and Ellie blabber on in the background. It's the most you've ever heard him talk; even during your game nights he doesn't talk this much. You briefly wonder if this is what their every-day-interactions are like before you push the thought away. Ellie laughs and Joel joins in. Hers is high and giggly and his is deep and warm and throaty. It's a nice sound.

You're grateful that they don't try to include you in the conversation. You just sit and listen as Ellie talks about the gossip her friend Jessica told her last night during their sleepover. Apparently, her brother tried to steal one of the rare chocolate bars from the community kitchen and now has to work in plumbing as punishment. Joel, in return, tells a story about how back in the day, a plumber messed up at one of his construction sites and they had a sewage pipe blow up in the middle of the day. "Poop rained down everywhere. It was an ugly sight, I'm tellin' 'ya. Tommy got the worst of it."

Ellie laughs so hard, she almost slides off her chair, and even Joel's chair is shaking from his laughter. You briefly look up and find that Joel is looking at you, the skin around his eyes all crinkly from the smile on his face. You quickly avert your eyes but can't stop the tiny smile that wanders over your lips.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home." Joel's hand is on your shoulder. The dishes are done and the sun has set. Ellie has already gone to bed, or has at least retreated to her room.

You feel a soft nudge on your shoulder and start to move.

The idea of going back to your house, alone, haunts you. Where a packed bag is waiting and the evidence of your outburst is strewn across the floor of your entire bedroom.

Your legs stop under you and Joel almost bumps into you on the way to the door. "I can't," you whisper and you feel the familiar wave of shame roar in your stomach. You feel Joel's hand on your back and feel frozen in your spot. "I-," you start again but your voice betrays you. There's a prickling sensation behind your eyes and you know that the tears are just around the corner. You sigh and it sounds like dry laugh. "I, umh."

Joel doesn't say anything, he just waits for you to say what you have to say. You take a big breath and then say the words quickly before you lose the momentum. "I'm afraid I'll do something, if I'm alone." Your whisper is so quiet, so small, as if your voice wants to hide itself away. "To myself."

There's a moment of silence where you feel like your skin is on fire. Every single hair on your body stands up as you wait for Joel to respond. The wave of shame sloshes around in your stomach and sends hot shivers through your body. You feel betrayed by yourself, by your mind, your strength, both cowering at the sight of your pain, unable to tame it. You feel humiliated by yourself, your inability to deal with your demons and how scared you are of them. You've fought so many monsters, infected by cordyceps or power, but the one opponent that you never seem to beat is yourself.

Finally, you feel his hand glide off your back and it feels like a kick in the stomach, but then his hand gently wraps around your unbandaged hand. There's a soft tug, and then he's guiding you through the kitchen, up the stairs and into his bedroom.

A cascade of emotions washes over you: relief, shame, gratitude, humiliation, guilt. There is relief that you don't have to go home and face your demons in the dark all by yourself, gratitude that Joel's taking you in and taking on the burden of making sure you're safe when you can't do it yourself, but it's all laced with shame, bitter and slimy and hard to swallow because you should be able to do this yourself.

You don't know how to feel as he gestures for you to sit on the bed, then takes off his watch and places it on one of the nightstands. He pulls off the jacket he's wearing, then slips out of his t-shirt. You avert your eyes when his torso is bare, even if not for long. He slips on another t-shirt, then kicks off his pants.

You're still sitting on the edge of his bed as he slides under the blanket behind you. "C'mon," you hear him mumble and he tugs the blanket out from under you. To your surprise, your body moves on its own accord. Your legs slide under the blanket he's holding up, then he's pulling the covers up so they reach up to your chin. You feel him shift behind you and then there's his body leaning against yours, your back pressed against his tummy. An arm moves around your waist and pulls you even closer, until you're fitted against each other tightly.

You're in Joel Miller's bed, but there's nothing sexual about it. Joel holds your shaking body against his and lets the warmth of his own body erase your cold. He holds you, even when tears of shame and sadness roll down your cheeks and into his pillows. He holds you until you fall asleep, and even then, he doesn't let go.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

A/N: I want to make it clear that asking for help is never wrong, nor anything to be ashamed of or to be humiliated by. As a person with chronic depression who struggled to deal with it on her own for years, I want you to know that you deserve all the help, even if your brain is telling you something different. No matter what you're struggling with, you are worthy of help and love, always. 🤍

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters!

Tag list: @eternallyvenus @frogsdeservelovetoo @akisfoxdevil @southernbe @nutterbitter @sunandmuun @noisynightmarepoetry @puduvallee @picketniffler @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @orcasoul @foomoosworld @aryaharmon @lilmizmoz @ashleyfilm

#joel miller #joel tlou #tlou joel #joel the last of us #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fic #joel and ellie #ellie and joel #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #broken

[the-kr8tor]

hehe they will never kiss >:) (they do kiss. They smooch HARD.) Daily Hobie HC!!

This time, we're turning the tables! How about, Hobie with a shapeshifter partner? >:) He'd be absolutely clueless, thinking that you meant it as a joke..that is until he wakes up to a big python laying in bed next to him, your tongue flickering in and out at the crest of his ear, wanting to surprise him. As he turns around to see your innocent face staring back at him, his tired instinct tells him to simply just gently put his palm on your face and slowly push you back. As you try to laugh in your snake form, Hobie eventually begins to laugh with you, finding it adorable how you went to such great lengths to wake him up just so Hobie could cuddle you. Of course, as you shift back, he immediately indulges in you, cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you all over your face. Sometimes, if you've shapeshifted into a holdable animal, and you're sleeping near him while he fiddles around with his guitar, Hobie will definitely pick you up and set you in his lap, quietly plucking at the strings. Both of you have found ways to even get through places and (unknowingly) helped Hobie snatch a few things from stores. Mostly? it's you shapeshifting into an adorable puppy or a cute little kitten and sticking your head out of the hoodie he's wearing, just bumping his chin. You both have used this trick multiple times on Hobie's bandmates, almost always managing to get Yuri to rush over and begin to shower you with pets. Eventually, the band managed to catch on your ability to shapeshift. But it was fun while it lasted! At times, he'll ask if you could possibly turn into some random animal. A few requests you remember was turning into a fox (He started teasing you with 'Fantastic mr/mrs/mx fox'), a Samoyed, a tiger. He once asked if you could turn into a whale, to which you blankly stared at him and quickly shapeshifted into a peacock instead. Hobie scoffs with feigned indignance every time you bring that moment up, since it was one of the rare times Hobie's face becomes genuinely expressive. When he had asked you to turn into a fox, you did so without hesitation. However, once he started reciting a few lines from 'Fantastic Mr Fox', you decided that today you were going to be a little thief. You ended up stealing a few things from him playfully, obviously having returned them by the end of the day. Hobie claims that you seemed to never stop boasting about the 7 items you had managed to steal. Bit of a short one because I am excited for the daily hobic hc tomorrow! Gotta rest my fingers for a bit before writing an essay hehe -🐦‍⬛

Yessss lots of smooches!! (Sorry for the late answer there was a brownout while i was answering your ask :( )

DAILY HOBIE HC!! 🎉🎉🎉

I stand by the fact that if i ever wake up to an unknown animal I'd die lmaooo hobie is built different

That's so adorable!! Like he'd be the one curling around you like a python!!!!

Oh to be cuddled and smooched like that 🥴

AHHHHHH Imagine you turning into a cute hamster and him putting you in his vest pocket so he could bring you anywhere!!!!!

Hobie better hide you from james and yuri bc they will create more mischief with you once they know about your abilities 😂

Omg a fox!! You on his lap purring while he brushes your pretty orange fur 😍

Lmaoo what if when he asks u to turn into a whale you go 'kay! And you've never seen fear in his eyes before 🤣🤣🤣

Also you about to leave his house boat but before you go he goes "pockets c'mon, love" and you just smirk at him while taking out your haul 😂

#ask answered #chatting with lovelies #hobie thoughts #hobie headcanons #daily hobie hc!! #🐦‍⬛ anon #🫶🫶🫶