#and i know this is boring for anyone outside of this brain but i have to laugh at the weird randomness with strings of logic (there was lots

[whatevers-inconvenient]

so in today's subconscious cooking up stories while i sleep, 1) my parents were rich af, 2) i was 16 or so and had a mental breakdown (for the only realistic part), so they 3) drove me to some facility and i was screaming and running away UNTIL 4) the therapy they assigned to me was a two hour walk around a huge glass building with the lawyer from Anatomy of a Fall 😭😂

i completely forgot about this meh film and the guy... or clearly not on some level. also 5) became friends with a fellow inpatient who looked suspiciously like Rayne Fisher-Quann.

okayyyyy

#and i know this is boring for anyone outside of this brain but i have to laugh at the weird randomness with strings of logic (there was lots #of snow?? let's add a canadian girl) #just lol. #personal #// #also i didn't realise who those people were in that dream - only later #it's a lot of nonsense but a nice break from body horror weird scary shit i usually get #it's definitely because i was crying over my teenage years recently! but the french lawyer bit i don't quite get #replacement father figure probably - dear lord what a sad little life jane #anyway he was really good at his job so maybe i should tell him to change careers? #OOOh just remember it had a weird horribly dark scene at the end unrelated to previous plotline - nevermind! couldn't get something #not scarring for once of course 🥰

[nerdpoe]

The Disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne, and how Watcher Mystery Files solved it in one episode.

Wrote it for a warm up, freaked out because I didn't know how to end it, copped out, wrote Omegaverse instead, finished another story, circled back to this one.

Anyways this was inspired by this post right here from @thebeeswantarson

it looks like this go reblog it

Alright here we go.

When the nosebleeds had started, Tim hadn’t really thought anything of it.

He’d waved away concerned friends and family, shoved tissues (and tampons, on one memorable occasion) up his nose, and gone about his day.

Then the migraines. Oh, the migraines.

After the increased migraines, increased stomach issues, and a few fainting spells that had even Bruce cornering him and demanding he see a doctor, Tim had acquiesced.

And the result after many CATscans and MRIs?

Nothing. No tumors, no signs of disease, normal bloodwork-nothing physical was wrong.

Nothing magical, either. He’d gone to some JLD members to ensure that.

After consulting with his small team of doctors, they finally managed to pinpoint what was driving his body to rebel against itself.

Stress.

Fucking stress.

Like some sort of swooning Victorian maiden, but with all the swooning and none of the cocaine.

So.

Tim had written email to his friends and family, sent them off, and proceeded to completely detach from the world around him in his most well-kept secret bunker.

Tim knew himself, and if he maintained contact with anyone then he’d inevitably go back to working on cases and undoing the de-stressing he was attempting.

He hadn’t been sure if it would work, or if the stress of not being able to connect to the others or work on cases would make things worse, but it had. Unorthodox, yes, but it worked! He’d relaxed and caught up on sleep!

But fully rested, and also more than a little bored, he knew it was time to get back into the swing of things.

Mournfully, Tim bid his state-of-the-art bunker goodbye and started going through the multiple airlocks to get outside.

The absolute second he stepped out, though, the air rippled and Kon was immediately there.

Kon looked…disheveled.

His hair was a wreck, he only had one sleeve of his jacket on, and…were those tear tracks?

Why was Kon crying?

Fuck, had the zombie apocalypse started while he’d been away?

Tim held out his hands in a calming motion, not breaking eye contact.

“It’ll be okay Kon; we can figure out what the cure is for the Zombie Plague.” Tim didn’t actually know if he could figure it out, but he didn’t want Kon to freak out anymore than he already was.

Tim’s hands were pushed aside in favor of being swept into an all-consuming hug, and-yup. Kon absolutely was crying into his shoulder.

Tim was officially concerned.

“Is Bart okay? Is Cassie okay? Kon, who’s hurt, what happened-“

“You, Rob. You’re okay. Shut up, I’m having a moment.”

Tim was even more confused, but that was alright; his brain started working without him.

Kon was crying, and emphasizing that Tim was okay. Kon had not realized that Tim was fine, ergo Kon had not received the email Tim had sent out.

Then Tim’s brain went Tim Big Brain.

Normally, a misconception like that would have been cleared up right away by someone else with correct information. But it hadn’t been cleared up at all, and Kon was never quiet about trying to save someone.

Thus, no one had known any different to what Kon had believed. No one had known to correct the misconception that he had found himself immersed in.

Therefore, the emails had not been sent out.

…

The…emails had not been sent out.

Oh fuck him the emails had not been sent out and he went on his merry way to an unlisted bunker with soundproofing for six fucking months.

“You were supposed to receive an email,” Tim muttered, horrified, as his arms wrapped around Kon as well.

Kon snorted wetly.

“Well I didn’t, and neither did anyone else.”

“Yeah, I kinda get that now. I’m in…so much trouble.”

Kon nodded into Tim’s shoulder, smearing snot and tears into his shirt. Tim didn’t even complain.

He was too busy realizing just how badly he was in for it.

~~~~~~

Bruce could feel the conversation he was trying to have begin to turn into another fight.

Dick was insisting that Ra’s Al Ghul had to be the one who had taken Tim, and had roped Damian in on it.

The problem was that there was no real concrete evidence that Ra’s had taken Tim, and Bruce refused to let them move in without intel on, at the very minimum, where Tim could have been taken.

Dick, naturally, was not happy with that answer.

Bruce, of course, refused to lose any more of his children. Especially if it was something he could have easily prevented.

“Father, if Grandfather has Drake it is only a matter of time before irreparable damage is done. We must move quickly.”

Bruce shook his head, standing more firmly in front of his oldest and youngest.

Dick looked ready to explode.

“Get out of the way, Bruce. I’m getting Tim.” Dick’s stance was tense, and his words moreso.

Bruce had no doubt this would devolve into a physical confrontation if he did not ed-escalate.

He opened his mouth to do just that when, with a shrill beeping sound, Oracle chimed in.

“Uh, guys? I think I just found Tim.”

Bruce felt something inside of himself relax, and didn’t bother to stop Dick and Damian as they charged past him to crowd the Batcomputer.

“Oracle, report; where is he?” Was he safe? Did he need help?

“About that…”

“Babs please!” Dick begged, knuckles white from where he gripped the console.

“He’s currently outrunning the paparazzi and a literal mob of Gothamites with phones.”

Bruce…had no idea how to respond to that.

Neither did Dick, apparently.

“They’re all livestreaming, so like; tracking him isn’t an issue,” Oracle supplied, like that made things make more sense.

The screen blinked, and four separate video feeds from random Gothamites showed Tim running from them at different angles.

“…Agent A, I believe it’d be best for you to pick him up.”

All eyes were on Tim; it would be weird if Batman swooped down to retrieve him.

~~~~~~

When Tim had Kon drop him off, he had been expecting maybe a second look or two when he stepped out of that alley.

What Kon may have neglected to mention, however, was that the disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne was all anyone had been talking about for four months. There were a lot of theories, but the most prevalent happened to be the most gruesome.

Popular theory one; Bruce Wayne murdered Timothy Drake-Wayne in cold blood after Timothy made a decision with Wayne Enterprises that infuriated the man.

Popular theory two; Timothy Drake-Wayne was being held for ransom, and Bruce Wayne was refusing to pay it. Effectively, it was the same as theory one but with more steps.

Popular theory three; Timothy Drake-Wayne had been captured by Gotham’s underbelly and sold into human trafficking.

And the fourth most popular theory; Timothy Drake-Wayne was abducted by aliens.

So when Tim stepped out of that alley, it wasn’t to an occasional second glance.

It was to excited whispers and impromptu livestreaming.

Naturally, Tim bolted.

He’d outrun one mob, only to run into another one. His face was all over the internet, he knew, and there was no way Barbara hadn’t caught on.

He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, really, and made the worst mistake he could have made at that particular point in time.

He ran in front of Wayne Enterprises.

There were two guys, presumably talking about his disappearance. One was average height, the other was tall, and both were clearly not from Gotham.

He heard tiny snatches of their conversation as he got closer, pinned the California accents, and shoved past them with a half shouted apology.

“Well would’ja lookit that, Ryan; looks like it just solved itself!”

“How?!”

Tim let them fall into the background and used his new bearings to beeline for Crime Alley.

After all, only idiots would follow someone into Crime Alley.

Unfortunately, after twenty minutes Tim was forced to admit that the general populace of Gotham probably wasn’t on the scale of normal he had been depending on.

They had indeed followed him all the way into Crime Alley.

So he tried to lose them even harder.

He shoved between muggers and their victims, blew through obvious drug deals, and jumped over the tables hosting poker games so intense that the players were fingering their weapons.

Still, the crowd followed him.

Tim took three quick turns, prepared to take a fourth, and was snatched out of the street and into an old building.

The hold was meant for restraint, and Tim couldn’t break out of it without making a lot of noise, which he really didn’t want to do.

Plus, he recognized the arms latched around him and keeping him in place.

“Thanks Hood,” Tim whisper-panted.

The arms got tighter.

“Kid, do you have any idea how many ops I blew searching for you?”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Was absolutely convinced trafficker filth had gotten their hands on my kid brother,” Hood continued quietly, the mechanical rasp making his words deceptively collected, “So I went ahead and destroyed some of my only leads on the off chance that I’d find him.”

Tim felt himself start to break out in a cold sweat.

“So…you need help picking up your old trails?”

“’Help’ feels wrong. I’m owed it, Timmers.”

~~~~~~

‘Timothy Drake-Wayne Returns from the Dead!’

Tim thought that the newspapers were, quite possibly exaggerating just a little.

Just like his family was overreacting.

He was to wear at least four trackers at all times, he had to check in four times a day, he had to help Red Hood with picking back up the case load he’d all but set on fire in search of Tim, and he had to take Damian wherever their youngest wanted to go.

Apparently, the Little Demon had been so concerned that Ra’s Al Ghul had Tim that he’d started having nightmares.

And Tim wasn’t gonna lie, he felt beyond shitty for that. Well, that and everything else.

He’d also been forced to tell Bruce the location of every single one of his bunkers.

He’d sulk but…Tim also kind of felt like the worlds biggest asshole.

So.

He’d just…remember to actually hit send, not save, next time.

#batman #red robin #superboy #nightwing #red hood #watchers #ryan bergera #shane madej #brief cameo but it's there #fanfic #tim drake #kon-el #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne

[hwangism143]

𓆩♡𓆪 nicknames. 𓆩♡𓆪

maknae line.

bang chan.

when you woke up from bed, you noticed a bang chan-shaped depression right beside you. a giggle escaped your mouth as your brain recounted all the fun you had last night trying to beat chan in monoply.

yes, you had only been dating for two months, but this relationship felt real. it felt like something. you were confident in saying that you saw a future with him. you walked into the kitchen where you chan preparing breakfast. he handed you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it, with a sleepy smile.

"so, i've been thinking and," chan started, "would like it if i call you a nickname in your native language?"

you nearly choked on your coffee. "like it? chan, that is the sweetest thing ever."

he grinned at you, "good, cuz i have been doing a lot of research." he swooped down, kissing the top of your head and melting your heart along with it.

lee minho.

"i have a problem."

minho startled you, uttering those four words as soon as he stepped through the door. you were watching tv, curled up on the sofa with a blanket and dori, munching on popcorn and waiting for minho's arrival.

"what's wrong?"

"it's you." minho watched your face morph into confusion and worry and he quickly explained, "not exactly. since we're dating, i need to come up with a cute nickname for you. hyunjin said that jagiya is not cute enough."

at that, you start to laugh. "babe, does he even know why you call me jagiya? as a matter of fact, i'm curious too."

minho begins blushing, the tips of his ears turning red. "oh, um, as a nickname, it reminds me of home. and you're, well, home."

you let out a squeal and begin attacking minho with kisses and for once, he doesn't protest.

seo changbin.

"no. i will not give up."

you let out a weary sigh. "binnie, it's been hours."

changbin is sitting on a bar stool and you are sprawled across the sofa, dangling upside down. for the past two hours, you and changbin had been deciding on what terms of endearment to use on each other.

unlike changbin being extremely undecisive, you had almost immediately decided what you would call him. your bunny boy! this was probably an extremely boring way to spend your six-month anniversary to outsiders, but it was (comically) important to changbin and if it was important to him, it was important to you.

"i'm sorry for boring you, princess," he said sadly. suddenly, his eyes widened. you got up instantly, making eye contact with him, breaking out into a smile.

"that's it!"

hwang hyunjin.

you and hyunjin laid down on the mat you placed on the grass, gazing at the stars. or at least, you were gazing at the stars. hyunjin's eyes only looked at you.

"what's your favorite term of endearment?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence you were in.

"hm," you contemplated it for a minute, "probably love. there is something just so romantic about calling someone you love, love. it's almost as if you're making it known to the world that they personify your version of love."

hyunjin nodded in agreement, "or that the exemplify the love that they have to give."

you turned to look at him. his face was drawn in concentration, clearly very focused on the topic at hand. "but," he began, "it's ambiguous, isn't it? you can call anyone love, regardless of the type of love."

you hummed at his words, turning them over in your head. "well then, what would you prefer?" you questioned him, curious to hear the thoughts in his head.

"something my-adjacent," he replied, "my love. my muse. my world."

he cupped your cheeks in his hand looking at you with stars in his eyes.

"my everything."

#stray kids #skz #lee know #chan #changbin #hyunjin #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #lee know fluff #bang chan fluff #changbin fluff #hyunjin fluff #- via's fics <3

[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings Pt. 2

College Proffesor AU! Miguel x fem!Reader

Warning: Smut, slight fluff

Hope you like c: Pt 3

It's been almost two years ever since you graduated college, two years since you last time saw Mr. O'Hara and kept in touch with him. To starters, you were pretty sure that making an advance on him after he had realigned your guts in his car and you gave him a blowjob in his classroom previous to the graduation ceremony, would only bring him trouble.

And now, a year and ten months later you had to 'integrate yourself to the proactive and laboral society' or so your parents always repeated. Thankfully enough, due your merits you had landed a not so shitty job in the branding consulting field.

The perks of your job were flexible schedules and some little luxuries like a place in a relatively good area, and finally, a car.

You often browsed through social media to check on your old class mates. Some got married, others moved from the country and others just stuck to themselves. Even though it was unlikely, you had searched Miguel, but he never showed up. Given the man's workaholic nature, it made sense for him to not have social media.

Wich kinda sucked since you had lost valuable contacts, including his. Not that you often talked though, a few how are yous here and there, and in the rare occasions, the conversations turned spicy and thigh clenching.

You went back to work.

-----

Adult life was often boring, in fact, that you were grocery shopping for the week had turned boring. The only thing sparking your interest was a new cereal brand on the top shelf, your fingers barely reaching them. You stopped however as a big hand hovered over you and grabbed the cereal like it was nothing.

"Thanks"

"Who said it was for you?"

A chill ran down your spine as you looked at none other than Miguel O'Hara cocking an eyebrow your way with a slight smirk.

"M-Mr. O'Hara! Hi. Uh... Hi."

"(Name)" He gave a brief acknowledge to you as he put some packaged-gourmet looking coffee on his cart.

"It's been a while. How do you do, sir?"

"Sir? What am I? Sixty?"

"At all, just-"

"Then fucking call me Miguel."

"It's really weird for me to say your name so casually."

He rolled his eyes and moved to get coffee filters.

"Thought you found a better chatting partner"

You stood there unable to comprehend his words right away, they weren't precisely tender, but they held a bit of a grudge. Finally your brain alighted with the idea of what he had meant.

"No, no. I was robbed actually, and lost a bunch of data, your contact included."

He stared your way, unwavering as you offered a small smile.

"Make it up, then... Unless you are seeing someone?"

"No!" You almost shouted and quieted down as some people in the back looked at your way.

"Sorry. I mean no. Im not seeing anyone. What about you?"

"Maybe you, at seven on saturday. "

Your cheeks burned at how casual he was acting. You had caged him in the teacher box for so long anything outside of it was odd, yet fascinating.

"Alright."

"Pásame tu teléfono*"

"What?"

"Give me your phone."

"Oh, right."

You handed your smartphone at him as he called his own number, registering both you and himself on each other's devices.

"I'll let you know if anything else shows up."

"Sure, I'll bring a gift."

He chuckled and shrugged

" If you want to. Not needed though. At 7 pm" ,

Nodding, you watched him leave, realizing he actually had put the cereal box in your cart.

-------

The rest of the week was torture, in every little chance you had, you checked your phone to see it was empty, you didn't even discuss where you'd meet or the dress code. You could surprise him, but the idea of being dressed inappropriately would just embarrass you.

Hi, sorry to just butt in. I wanna know though, do I need a dress code?

It took a long of 20 minutes for him to reply.

No

It was a simple yet not so mortifying reply. Even so you the urge of surprising him felt stronger. He was giving you, without realizing, the chance to make an impression on him.

-----

You went for a short, skin tight, black, thin strapped, heart shaped uppercut dress, black stilettos, natural looking makeup and a blown out hair. The stilettos made a show of your silky-feeling legs, you were all dolled up, quite literally.

Around 6:20 you got a text message from Miguel, he had shared his location to you. You had bought a good quality wine, something he might like. Or so you hoped. Giving a last look and some bit of  perfume, you went out the door and drove off to his place.

------

You couldn't help but feel a nervous wreck as you approached the apartment building. Nothing too fancy, but a good looking place in a good neighbor, you entered the elevator, earning some glances your way.

Fourth floor, apartment 5.

You had arrived right on time, so you knocked the door as you straightened any lump in your dress. His steps approached and you gulped, finally he opened the door. His behemoth of frame covering up the entrance.

"Hey" You smiled nervously as he raked you from head to toes with his eyes, subtly.

"Too much?"

He smirked at your hesitation and let you in, closing the door after you. If it wasn't for a a couple of boxes scattered around the place would look even more amazing. It was only a place you could afford if you worked for big companies.

"Got us some wine. Hope you enjoy." He took the bottle of your hands and pulled you in for a deep kiss. Your sweet perfume only added a little spark to his senses.

"Pinche morra toda preciosa*" He mumbled as he slapped your ass gently and motioned you to follow him to the kitchen, bottle in wine on hand. Obeying, you followed and he opened the seat for you.

"Thanks, Miguel."

He wore a white button shirt, rolled up to the sleeves, revealing his strong forearms. Dress pants, black shoes and a belt. The belt only accentuated his upper frame, you gulped at the sight of him, serving two plates of pasta to then sprinkle some cheese on top.

He then returned and offered you a plate. You could only stare at him, awestruck. He sat next to you and opened the bottle of your wine

"What?"

"Nothing, just..." He poured two cups of wine and removed his glasses off his face. How could you have missed them?

"Nice place, great cook, good looking." He chuckled as you sipped the wine, "Can't believe someone like you invited me over."

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah never mind me. Im just rambling. Are you still teaching?"

"Not really. Just a consultant now. Teaching is good, but it pays shit. Had to go back to my old job."

"And that is?" You finally ate a forkful of pasta. Humming in approval.

"Genetic Engineering."

"Well, shit. Is there anything else I should know?"

"You surely did dress up for this. Or for me?"

"Both." You nodded softly and he followed.

"Maybe next time I should be more specific with the dress code and make sure you aren't bringing your panties with you."

"Who says I am wearing them?"

His eyes turned darker as he took your hand to kiss it softly.

"You sure you wanna play that game, princesa?"

"Isn't that what you invited me over for?"

"Maybe. Maybe Not. Who knows" he smirked and took a hold of, your chin softly, "Eat up, you'll need it."

"What if I'm actually hungry for something else?"

"As much as I'd love to just rip that dress off, I want you to enjoy first, we've got a whole night ahead."

-----

For some reason your head was barely getting a grip on it. Miguel O'Hara, retired college professor, now a genetic engineer, was being an absolute gentleman with you even though he had stated his intentions also. You didn't know if to just run away out of cowardy at someone actually giving you a good non sexual time or hope you could outlast him during the night, or at least hope to endure.

You didn't know if he actually was just lonely since he asked about you, what did you do after college, how your robbing happened and the like. But of course, it could only last for so long.

He removed your shoes and kissed your ankles, and inner thighs, but stopped before he could reach to his favorite place to dive in his head

"Come here, sweetie." He pulled you off the couch and embraced snugly your body as his hands roamed your body with need. He groaned upon touching the bare skin of your ass.

"You smell so good" He kissed you once more as he hoisted you by your legs, to wrap them around him, all with his lips still devouring yours. He had you groaning with a roll of his hips as he pressed you against the wall. His mouth leaving you to assault the tender and sensitive flesh of your neck.

His clothed erection rubbed against your moistening folds. Friction making your whole nerves to react, your toes curled, your nipples perked as they rubbed against his chest. He smelled just like you remembered, a sweet and earthy tinge of cologne and a bit musky.

His hands grope your glutes as he kept grinding his hips against yours.

"Miguel" You whimpered his name and he pulled you by the neck to kiss you. Your hips rolled against his, not wasting up a single movement to feel everything. His hands held a handful of your ass while he softly bit your neck and clawed at the plumpness of your ass. It made you squirm and gasp as he rubbed harder.

Shallow breaths, pressure rising as your legs trapped him as closely as you could. His arms held you, preventing your fall, his lips were drowning any weak and shaky moan. He then placed you on the bed, but you immediately straddled him.

"Let me return the favor"

Smirking, your hands unbuckled his belt, he just watched you struggling to tug his pants off, before pulling them down, along the boxers, releasing his girth to you.

Licking your lips, you kneeled before him, and soon, dragged your tongue from the base to the flushed tip. A low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands immediately went to hold your hair, as his other one held the base of his shaft, to slowly and surely feeding his cock to you.

Your tongue swirled before taking the whole tip inside. His body shuddered

"Just like that, mi amor." His hips bucked, pushing an inch deeper into your mouth. You began bobbing your head up and down, feeding yourself after he slapped his tip against your flattened tongue. He then used both hands to hold your hair and head in place as he slowly moved upwards, his hips inside your warm and moist plush lips.

Streaks of pre cum, dribbled down your chin as he kept slowly fucking your mouth. Your jaw muscles relaxed enough to allow him an inch more, but just as you were about to deep throat him, he pulled himself out and pulled you by the hair for a kiss. It was sloppy, but passionate.

He removed the dress, revealing your naked body underneath. Then wiped your chin carefully

"Me encantas. Puta madre, no sabes lo que me haces." He mumbled to your ear huskily

"I don't know what you're saying" you giggled as he slapped your ass once more.

He turned you around and placed you in all fours. Admiring the smoothness and dips of your curves. He removed the remaining of his clothes and draped in the curtains of his room, leaving the place dimly lit.

He placed a hand on your hip and gave a few strokes to your slit with his tongue while cooing how good you tasted for him. Slowly he pushed a finger inside you, giving gentle strokes. Your hands held his sheets tighter. Soon another finger was added and you pushed your hips to make his fingers go deeper.

"Such an eager baby" he tapped your ass and chuckled, "Relax"

He brought his slicked fingers to his lips and soon, pumped himself a couple of times to slowly fill you, as you clenched around him.

"You ok?" You sighed and nodded shakily.

"It's been a while" his hands gently caressed your hips before his pushed in softly. Gasping at the intrusion, he started off slowly as he peppered your neck and cheeks in kisses, his hands massaged and squeezed with care, your breast.

"So so beautiful." he cooed before thrusting his hips a bit harder, seeing your mouth contort in pure lust. He kissed you once more, before holding your hips in place, with a swift roll, he pushed all the way in, in one go, earning him a sweet whimper from you.

The bed creaked as he slapped his hips, slowly ascending to a rougher pace. You wailing his name, as your cunt welcomed him with a wet squelch was everything he needed. There was something about you taking him so well that made him go feral.

Your face and chest were pushed flat against the cushioned surface, ass high for him, he separated a bit further your legs before his hips began slapping your flesh, mercilessly. And god you loved it.

Your body shook with every deep thrust he did, mouth agape, moaning shamelessly. Your hair was pulled, his nails dragged down your spine before his hands slapped your ass.

The pressure began bubbling in the lowest of your pit, he could tell by how your inner walls began clenching and gripping him. He then brought you closer, your back collided against his sturdy chest, giving him a tighter and deeper angle inside you.

His arms held you in place as you scratched and dug your nails on him.

"You're such a good girl, princesa. So so good" he cooed as he cupped your pussy and toyed with your clit in slow motions

The new sensation was only added to the many you were already experiencing. Breathless, so ever tight around him, as his arms secured you in place while being pounded with such abandonment. Smirking, he trusted harder and harder, but stopped just before you were thrown in the bliss searing abyss.

You whined in frustration, as you tried to find relief on your own.

"Uh uh. Don't be bad."

"Please..." You heaved and put his hands on your body

"Please what?"

"Let me fucking cum, Miguel."

"Jesus..." He groaned and kissed your neck before resuming his rutting inside you. The pressure simmered as you were pushed in the brink of breaking once more.

His hot breath against your flushed skin, his hands holding you with such possessiveness as he whispered sweet nothings to your ear, was the perfect combination for you to snap.

Shaking and nearly convulsing at the hot white pleasure that flooded your system.

"Miguel!" you spoke his name in between gritted teeth

"There you go" he cooed and smiled. Despite your insides having a death grip around him, your pleasure was his priority. You felt so good and small, it tugged on the dark strings on his self control.

Your skin was flushed, covered by a thin layer of sweat. He turned you around and pulled you by your legs towards him. A hand was placed in your abdomen as he prodded in two fingers, plunging them deep enough to graze at that already sensitive spot.

Your toes curled in as he moved them dexterously inside your already sopping folds.

Faster, harder, faster and harder. In that order.

"Oh my god" you sobbed as the sheets crumpled under your touch, toes curling in as a new orgasm was ripped out of you with a wet gush on his hand and forearm. He groaned as you squirted.

"That's the sexiest shit I've seen you doing, preciosa."

You could only moan in return as he filled you up once more

"Hold on tight" Your legs were hoisted on his arms as he gathered you, your arms went around his neck, anchoring to his broad shoulders and he lifted you up with ease. His arms locking on your back as you bounced on his cock.

"Fuck!" you gasped at the new depth his tip reached inside, and each thrust only dug him deeper inside you, feeling completely full of him.

"Cómo me encantas" he breathed through soft growls, that were drowned by the obscene, continuous and wet slapping of flesh. Unable to mumble any coherent word. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, eyes heavy with overstimulation as the merciless slapping continued and your body bounced.

You clung to his body as if your life depended on it. Your nails scratched the top of his  back, creating red welts on his skin that only urged him to a whole new level of roughness you hadn't expected. His groans drowned your pathetic cries as your body shook with each thrust.

"Too much" you croaked in between deep pants as the pressure scrapped you raw. Eyes far too lost for him to reach, his control over you unwavering. Pleasure slowly chipped away his body, you closed your eyes as a breathless mewl announced your brewing of a next peak.

He inhaled sharply as his hips stopped for a moment, to then resume as you were propped against the wall. His muscles flexed as he fucked you in the way he knew you loved it, too pussy drunk to stop.

Your peak was shattering, almost splitting your mind in two, as you gushed all over his cock and lower abdomen, supple thighs squeezing his waist. He hissed at your clawing, as he spurted inside. Painting your walls white and hot.

"Mine" he growled. There was an acute whimper on his behalf as he tried to keep standing as his load was out inside you. He rushed to the bed and laid you on it.

His chest swelled in pride as it heaved.

"Such a good girl." He laid next to you, your head cradled closer, just like your body, he made one of your thighs to hook on his waist as he slowly entered you one more time.

You stirred and his arm snaked around your torso. He shushed you as he delivered slow strokes with his cock inside you. Your hands rested on his chest and your head on his arm, using it as a pillow.

"Toda para mí" He pushed his hips in languid, slow strokes, pulling soft mewls out your limp body. Your plush folds welcomed him with a soft suckling motion as he pushed all his seeping cum back in.

"I-I can't" you breathed as his hand pressed you closer

"Of course you can, corazón. One more."

"Miguel" you whimpered in despair. Not that you could move anyways, his lips kissed your temple as he rode you to bliss one more time.

----

You woke up in Miguel's bed, tangled up in sheets, sore and thirsty. Your phone buzzed with some texts from work. You stood and covered up in one of the sheets. The smell of food lingered in the air as your stomach grumbled in protest

"Miguel?"

"C'mon." he motioned you from the kitchen, you followed and sat on the table. He wore nothing but some sweatpants and his slippers

"Buenos días, guapa."

"Morning?" you smiled softly at your best guess of what he just said

"Sorry for... you know, uh, staying."

"It's fine. I was counting on it, anyways."

He served you a bit of a hearty looking meal. Chilaquiles with two fried eggs on top .

"Thank you."

He sat next to you and ate. You followed. Eating was quiet, but comfortable enough.

"I'll do the dishes" you stood and picked up after the both. He smiled softly, almost contemplating you from behind

"You should bring extra clothes next time."

Next time

"Might do, yeah." your cheeks flared up and you finished cleaning and went to his room, your clothes had been gathered on a chair, neatly.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure."

You quickly showered and changed, Miguel just watched you from afar.

"I shall go then."

"What? No kiss goodbye? So cold." He feigned hurt and you couldn't help but laugh. Then you kissed his cheek.

"Nah. Despídete bien." He pulled you closer for a deep kiss and smirked once you were at the door.

"Thank you, for everything. It was wonderful."

"Of course it was." he slapped your butt as you went out the door.

"Mejor vete antes de que me arrepienta."

"What?"

"Bye bye, preciosa."

You pursed your lips and shook your head softly, he just chuckled and you left. Your kiss still lingering in the air.

-------

*Pinche morra toda preciosa - Such a fucking gorgeous girl.

*Me encantas. Puta madre, no sabes lo que me haces -I love it. Holy shit, you don't know what you do to me.

*Cómo me encantas - God, I love you. (Mind you, this love is not the same as love love.)

*Toda para mí - All for me.

*Buenos días, guapa - Good morning, gorgeous

*Despídete bien - Say goodbye properly

*"Mejor vete antes de que me arrepienta - You better go before I regret it.

Taglist: <3

@averagefloydlover @mouse-teagreat @4rlybm @cosmoscoffeee @wanderlustingcastaway @allysunny @noblesavagex @miggyoharaswife

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel

[landwriter]

Hi! I hope you feel better soon!

This is a great prompt by @academicblorbo about Hob Gadling being the landlord of the Dead Boys. It has a wonderful fill already by @omgcinnamoncakes but I’d love to see what you come up with for it!

Alternative prompt from me if that doesn’t work for your brain: remember the date between Jenny and Maxine? How about one between Jenny and Esther? Poor Jenny is going to really question her taste in beautiful blonde women 😭

Thank you! I saw ‘landlord’ and ‘decades’ and blacked out. I love Hob having them as tenants. Maybe even before the modern day meeting in Sandman.

The Sandman/Dead Boy Detectives, 2.4k, G Dream/Hob, pre-slash, alternating/outsider POV, found family, a reunion and revelations etc.

---

Hob did not, strictly speaking, have tenants. It was more of a minor haunting. Pun intended.

The small room above the pub and below his flat wasn’t worth charging anyone rent for; when he first bought the building he had put a handsome oak desk in there and some bookshelves before wondering who he was possibly keeping up appearances for. Who was he going to take back upstairs that would stop and say, Wait, can I see your office? So he’d left it as more or less an abandoned room.

When he realized a pair of boys were using it as their clubhouse, he didn’t do anything at first. He saw them quietly coming and going a couple times, disappearing around the corner of the first landing. Brazen things. He meant to call after them, but the shout had died in his throat. He’d been young once. He still remembered the need to get away from it all. It was only when he went to check if they’d been making a mess of the room that he discovered it was still locked.

He’d crouched down and inspected the latch and found no marks at all. Huh, he’d said, and jiggled it again, and been a little more interested in whatever clever way they were getting into it after they disappeared up his stairs. Then he didn’t see them for weeks, and assumed they had gotten bored and stopped.

Until they came back. In the middle of an argument, striding through the pub like they owned it. Hob straightened up as they passed him.

“I cannot believe you broke the mirror.”

“I was in a rush! It’s not my fault you forgot you needed Arcana Incantatum after we arrived at the church. And found the demon.”

“I hardly forgot, I only made the mistake of assuming you would know to pack it by now.”

Hob raised his eyebrows. The boys disappeared into the back hallway. He followed them as they went upstairs, too preoccupied with their drama to notice Hob. They turned onto the landing, still carrying on. Even as they walked through the door. The locked, closed door.

Hob blinked. Then he drew his keys from his pocket and opened the door. The boys were still inside. One of them was pulling a mirror out of a backpack that was several times too small for it. They didn’t even look up, and Hob wondered how he couldn’t possibly have put it together earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Hello, boys.” That caught their attention. Hob grinned. “Seems we’re neighbours.”

---

Edwin abhorred getting involved with the living. He and Charles got along perfectly well on their own. They were a duo. An intrepid pair. Best mates, like Charles often stressed whenever he was about to ask something particularly ridiculous of Edwin. They were solid together. As solid as two ghost boys could be. The living, though, were messy and unpredictable.

Perhaps the most salient fact at present: Charles invariably became attached to them.

“He’s sad, mate. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You said those exact words in ‘94 about a dog. At least ask Hob himself.”

Before you decide to adopt him too.

Hob Gadling, irritatingly, was unobjectionable on every ground Edwin could think of. He had made no imposition upon them. When he found them, he only asked them their business, and then told them he was usually downstairs, or upstairs, if they needed anything they couldn’t procure themselves. He had an interest in rare and old books, as it happened. In explaining this, he had also hinted at being far older than his looks would suggest, which vexed Edwin twice over. He knew his curiosity would not be slaked until he talked to Hob, but then he would be the one getting involved with the living, and Charles would hardly let him forget it.

“Do you think he’s really immortal? Mate’s far too calm. Last week I saw him stop a fight downstairs by stepping right between these huge blokes. He just said something and smiled and they backed right off.” Charles lit up. “Do you reckon he’d teach me how to do that? Conflict de-escalation, innit? I could show him some moves with the cricket bat, I bet. Oh, do you think he’s a cricket fan?”

It was obviously a hopeless case, and since the Dead Boy Detectives never took on hopeless cases, there was only one course of action that remained. Edwin had long since disabused himself of the notion he needed to breathe. He had no beating heart, yet when he was startled, he would find himself clutching his chest. Now, he exhaled slowly through his nose in an entirely superfluous sigh of resignation. “Well, Charles, shall we go talk to him?”

---

When the millennium came around, Hob found himself celebrating it with his accidental tenants. There was something gloriously satisfying about being able to make a toast to the next one and have it taken seriously. He’d asked them if they had something better to do - spectral trouble to get into et cetera - and they both looked at him with almost identical put-upon and incredulous expressions.

Hob had a terrible suspicion they thought they were taking care of him as much as he thought he was taking care of them.

Edwin, with his insatiable curiosity and, deep underneath it, something Hob thought he recognized from himself: a sharp animal ferocity and a refusal to go until he’s good and done, natural laws be damned. Charles, still brightly, painfully alive for a ghost - who should be alive still, by all rights, but nothing of this life was fair - who joked to cover up hurt in a way Hob knew too, and glowed any time Hob turned so much as a kind word to him.

He wondered what they saw when they looked at him.

The year ticked over, and technology kept working. Charles grinned innocently and said he could probably possess the telly and break it that way if Hob wanted?

Hob’s heart twinged. He knew they weren’t his, not to keep, but it seemed that teenagers didn’t change at all over the centuries, even if the boys were only sort of teenagers in the way Hob was only sort of in his thirties. It didn’t change that they’d been punted from the mortal coil before having a chance to grow up, and figure out the kind of men they were, and make their own choices and fuck up and try to be better than their fathers, and everything everyone deserved. Hob had made more than his share of mistakes. They hadn’t been given the chance to make nearly any at all.

So they made toasts to the new millennium, to the detective agency, to themselves, all stuck out of time in different ways and refusing to move on for different reasons, and Hob allowed himself to think of Robyn and privately pretend that they were his all the same.

---

A week later, Hob was reminded of the other universal traits of teenagers when he mentioned his stranger and both boys began to grill him with terrifying alacrity. Before turning to his dating life, like ravening bloody wolves. When Edwin had asked, in a specifically nineteenth century manner that Hob remembered all too well, if Hob had always been unmarried, he’d nearly put his head in his hands.

“It can be hard for me to associate with the living too, you know. For obvious reasons.”

Charles had turned to Edwin and hissed “See? I told you.”

Right in front of him. Nobody had taught them manners.

“Manners, Charles,” replied Edwin loftily. “We will, of course, respect your privacy. A man is entitled to his secrets.”

“You’ll go upstairs and rifle through my personal things, is what you’ll do,” said Hob.

Charles coughed to hide his laugh. Edwin flushed and looked away. Hob snorted, and told them about Eleanor and Robyn. Properly. It was a strange relief. He’d told the story wrong for plausibility’s sake so many times he had been worried he’d forget the truth of it one day.

They had listened, and been remarkably quiet until Charles piped up and offered to set him up with a ‘really fit’ ghost. Hob had roundly shut that down. Woefully, not all explanations were satisfying enough. Charles cornered him again the next morning while he was cleaning the bar.

“No, mate, I still don’t get it.” Hob was about to say he no more wanted to be with someone who couldn’t feel pleasure from his touch than someone who would grow old and be taken from him while he stayed the same, when Charles went on, bafflingly, to ask, “Why don’t you meet your mysterious friend more often than once a century?”

Hob sighed. “Adults are often busy, Charles.” Nevermind that he had begun to wonder the same since the eighteenth century. He’d always just assumed time passed differently for his stranger.

Charles just laughed and perched himself on the bar top. “Ooh, low blow. We’re busy too, you know. Plenty of cases to solve.”

“Really,” said Hob. “You’re busy. Right now.”

Charles waggled his eyebrows.

“Charles, I am not a case,” said Hob, sternly as possible. “I’m not even a ghost. He’s not a ghost. No ghosts.”

“We could investigate. Maybe ghosts are involved. What even is he? Why every hundred years? Is it some sort of Persephone situation?”

Hob bit his lip against shouting I don’t know! I don’t know anything about him! Instead, he tried to smile, and felt it come out as a wince instead. “He’s very private.”

Charles scowled. “Yeah, obviously. You don’t even know his name. He can’t be that good of a friend if he’s too busy to see you more than once a century.”

Hob couldn’t see the expression on his own face, but he saw Charles’ shocked reaction well enough. It was so long ago for him, and still Hob knew at once what Charles saw now: that first time you manage to visibly hurt a grown-up’s feelings, people who seemed too old and too stern to actually feel pain, when you’d been going around kicking at them like a new foal, just to stretch your legs.

“Sorry,” said Charles, instant regret chasing his surprise. He was a good kid.

“It’s alright,” said Hob. He meant it. He looked down at the shining bartop. His hands were restless with the urge to light a cigarette. He gave in. It wasn’t like Charles would be dying of lung cancer any time soon if he decided to follow Hob’s example. “I don’t think he would say he’s very good at being a friend either. Truth is, I’d love to see him more often. But we had an awful fight the last time we met. If he forgives me, I’ll have to ask.”

“Mates always make up,” said Charles earnestly. He was such a good kid.

“I suppose they do.” Charles still looked sorry, and Hob clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. Thanks for looking out for me, Charles.”

Charles beamed at him. “Always. We’ve got your back, me and Edwin.”

---

Charles couldn’t bloody believe it. Hob’s friend was here. There was nobody else it could be. He and Edwin were watching from a nearby table, pretending to be absorbed in their own conversation. Neither man noticed them. They were too busy looking at each other.

He couldn’t imagine spending more than a century apart from Edwin. The way Hob had talked about him and his stranger over the years, it sometimes seemed like they were best mates too, no matter how little they saw each other. He was dead sure that’s what had Hob looking so gutted when he thought nobody was looking. He had known they would make up, though. Maybe now Hob would be happier.

“Charles, we really ought not eavesdrop,” hissed Edwin. Right as he scooted his chair closer, the cheeky hypocrite. Hob and his friend were talking too quietly to properly hear, their heads bent together. Lots to catch up on, Charles reckoned. A hundred years. He couldn’t stop thinking about the number. It seemed impossible. Funny, he couldn’t imagine that long away from Edwin, but he could imagine spending that long being best mates. There was nobody he’d rather hide from Death with.

Hob’s face was doing something strange as his long-lost friend talked. Then Hob moved and grasped him by the shoulders, so tight that his knuckles stood out in relief. The man said something in low tones and Hob shook his head, and then pulled him in for a hug. The man stiffened and then relaxed, and his arms came up around Hob’s.

Their cheeks both looked wet.

Charles swallowed and it felt suddenly a little like he was choking. He should look away, only he couldn’t.

“They must be great friends,” said Edwin softly.

“Yeah,” he managed to croak. We won’t ever need to have a reunion like this because I’m never going to lose you, mate. I won’t let them take you. It was stuck behind the phantom lump in his phantom throat. His hand, without him telling it to, reached out and grabbed hold of Edwin’s. Edwin squeezed it hard, and Charles knew he didn’t have to make his voice work after all.

Then the man pushed Hob away, but only far enough to grab his face and pull him back again, thumbing over Hob’s cheeks, and beside him, Edwin honest-to-god gasped, and then Charles momentarily forgot how thoughts worked too.

---

It happens thus: in the New Inn, just next door to the White Horse, some 639 years after they first met, Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless share their first kiss. Neither, if they had bothered to think about it, would have intended to have an audience, but it’s a well-known fact that some kisses cannot wait, and theirs was chief among them, being that it had so much to say, and was so very long overdue.

I missed you, it said, and I came back, it said, and Please don’t go away from me again, and I could not.

And atop them, like blankets, were laid invisible the daydreams of those who saw them, including two long-dead boys, whose dreams were woven from the fresh and unaccounted-for possibilities of Hob kissing his mysterious stranger. Another man, thought Edwin. His best friend, thought Charles. Dream was the only one who could have heeded this, but he did not, because Hob Gadling was holding him tight and daydreaming loudly of this kiss and more, of this today and tonight and tomorrow, ever greedy and ever easily pleased, and Dream could hear nothing at all over their clamouring and comingled joy; the bright gold daydream between the scant space of their bodies that sounded so much like at last.

#asks #the sandman #dead boy detectives #fic #crossover? fusion? i guess? who is to say! not me! #dreamling #perhaps some notes of chedwin #(a fabulous ship name btw. i may not get cob but i WILL get chedwin) #author wrote this while sick as dog so please excuse errors :') #might put on ao3 later if i have a chance to clean it up and expand on it a little! #my writing #me yesterday: 'i really don't see the appeal of blending both stories beyond doing it for the sake of it' #me today: 'no you don't understand they NEED each other here is my chart of the interpersonal dynamics and a list of all the ways hob can h #accidentally writing the new inn reunion scene i'd always dreamed of oops

[roosterforme]

The University of Sugar | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You take Bradley to a work happy hour, but nothing about it makes him happy, since your boss is clearly flirting with you. Was that man blind? Could he not see your engagement ring? Bradley was ready to fuck some sense into you. And you were so willing to let him.

Warnings: Fluff, swears and smut

Length: 2700 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! This was written for a request. Banner by @mak-32

Check my profile for my masterlist

Bradley was exhausted. He'd had such a long week, stayed on base late almost every day. He was ready to get undressed, take you to bed, and pass out for at least twelve hours. But when he unlocked his front door and walked into the living room, you were standing there in a cute little dress, all made up. Maybe he could squeeze in a quickie before he passed out. 

"You look like you're ready for me to take you to bed," he said with a smirk as he started to untie his boots. But then he remembered something that you had said... about... a happy hour? Fuck.

"You need to get changed. I don't want to be late," you told him, checking the time on your phone while he groaned. Now he remembered. He promised you weeks ago that he'd go to the happy hour with your coworkers from the math department at San Diego State University. But right now, he was dying to get in bed and stay there.

"Sugar," he whined, "Baby, I'm exhausted. Can't we just stay home?"

"No!" Now you didn't look pleased at all as he made his way closer to you. "Go get changed, Beer Boy."

He wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you snug against him. "Come on, Baby," he crooned. "Doesn't our bed sound better than happy hour? I promise I'll make you cum. Twice."

You kissed him and smirked devilishly. "I'll hold you to that. After we get back from happy hour."

"Fuck," he groaned releasing you and heading to the bedroom to get changed. There was no way he was getting out of this one. He was going to have to chat with your coworkers all night. A bunch of boring math nerds. Because there was no way there was more than one hot, interesting math nerd at your school. You were an anomaly. You'd cornered that market. 

Plus, Bradley just knew he was going to feel like an idiot all night. You were smarter than anyone he knew, and it would be like a bunch of clones of you walking around sounding extremely intelligent. He didn't even know what he was going to talk about. 

"Ready?" you asked with a smile when he reemerged from the bedroom. You took him by the hand and led him out to the driveway. "I can't wait for you to meet everyone."

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

It was worse than Bradley thought it would be. Apparently the median age of college math professors was eighty. He held tight to his bottle of beer while you introduced him to way too many people whose names he would never remember. He tried to smile, but he had to stifle a few yawns while he followed you around the small auditorium on your campus.

Everyone knew you. Everyone liked you. Everyone wanted to talk to you. Which was all fine and dandy until Bradley got cornered in conversation with Professor Rosenthal while an extremely handsome man walked up to you and gave you a lingering hug. 

"Who the hell is that?" Bradley asked, completely cutting off Professor Rosenthal.

"Oh," he sputtered, turning to see where Bradley was looking. "Oh, that's Professor Philip Harding. The department dean." 

Bradley's brain was buzzing now as he watched Professor Philip Harding put his hand on your lower back while you laughed. You had mentioned him before. Many times. You told Bradley that you frequently ate lunch with Phil on the benches outside your building next to the rose garden. Bradley was the one who lovingly packed those lunches for you.

He watched as you slowly took a step out of Phil's reach. "That's a good girl, Sugar," he muttered, now completely ignoring Professor Rosenthal. 

But Phil closed the gap and was already next to you again. Was this guy blind? Or just stupid? Did he not see the engagement ring on your finger? Could he not comprehend that you were in a relationship?

"Fuck," Bradley growled, glaring at him as he set his empty bottle down and tore across the room. Phil was tall, dark and handsome, and Bradley knew you liked that kind of thing. Plus, if he was the department dean, he was probably as smart as you were. 

Jealousy pulsed beneath his skin as he came up behind you and wrapped his hand around your perfect hip. "Hey, Sugar," he rasped, leaning down to kiss your neck. He loved the way you melted into his touch, but Bradley kept his eyes on Phil who cleared his throat loudly. 

"Hello," Phil said, looking at Bradley with a thoroughly unimpressed expression. But he could just fuck right off, because Bradley wasn't impressed either. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Dr. Philip Harding."

You smiled up at Bradley. "Phil is the department dean. And his office is next to mine." Then you turned to Phil, and Bradley had to watch his gaze dip down to your chest as you said, "Phil, this is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw."

"Her fiancé" Bradley added, rather too loudly. 

Phil just smirked at him. "Ah, yes. I believe I've heard mention of you before. You work on submarines or something?"

Bradley clenched and unclenched his fist. "I'm an aviator," be ground out. "A pilot. I fly an F/A-18."

"Right," Phil replied cooly before turning back to you and asking you a question about your calculus lecture. And then Bradley had to stand there and listen to you laugh while he felt like a complete idiot. 

After a few moments of listening to Phil's annoying voice, Bradley pulled you a little closer and said, "Please excuse us," effectively cutting off the conversation and luring you back toward the refreshment table.

"What's wrong?" you asked. "You're acting so weird."

Bradley's eyes bugged out. "I'm acting so weird? Sugar, what the fuck, Baby? That guy is flirting with you right in front of me."

"No, he's not," you replied with an eye roll. "He's always like that."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he growled. "Because it does not. In fact it makes me feel worse."

"He's harmless, Beer Boy. I eat lunch with him all the time."

Bradley managed to speak through clenched teeth. "The way you described him, I pictured a geriatric nerd with a receding hairline and fucking dentures!"

You burst into laughter, planting your hand on his chest as you cackled and gasped for hair. 

"He's not old at all!" Bradley complained.

"No," you said, trying to reel in your laughter. "I think he's forty."

"He's handsome!"

"So are you." Your hand slid up to the back of Bradley's neck as you grinned at him.

"He wants to fuck you!" 

"So do you," you replied calmly. "You're jealous."

Bradley took a few deep breaths. He would never, ever admit to that out loud. "He touched you," Bradley growled. He didn't even care if he was causing a scene right now. You were going to be his wife, and he would be damned if Phil didn't leave here tonight knowing damn well where he ranked with you. 

"I told him to stop," you said sincerely. "I don't think he'll do it again."

"He better fucking not."

You leaned up and kissed Bradley's chin. "I can't believe you're jealous of him. You have no reason to be." You searched his face and sighed, that needy little sound you made when you were ready to go. "I love you. And you look so hot right now."

Bradley's cock twitched for you, and he pulled you snug up against him so you could feel that he was hard. You moaned softly, and Bradley glanced over to see that Phil was looking this way. 

"Let's go fuck in your office," Bradley told you, possibly loud enough for someone to hear. And then he kissed you hard, slipping his tongue into your mouth until you were pulling him toward the door. 

"I don't know what's gotten into you tonight," you whispered, ducking your head as you led him out into the hallway. "But I'm not mad about it." 

Bradley followed you down the hall to your office as you clicked along in your high heels. He was very familiar with this room, and when you unlocked the door, he pushed you inside but not before he noticed Phil was also in the hallway. 

Bradley winked at the other man before he slammed the door shut behind him. You had a smug, needy look on your face as the fluorescent lights started to warm up and brighten the small room. 

"You're mine, Sugar," he stated simply, caging you in against your desk. "And next time you eat lunch with Phil, I want you to think about this," he whispered, reaching down so his hand was underneath your dress, grabbing the back of your thigh and making you break out in goosebumps. "And this." 

You moaned softly as he gently pressed his lips to yours in the sweetest kiss. "Bradley," you whined as his hand slid up to the front of your underwear. "I thought you were exhausted from work."

"I got my second wind," he promised, leading his gentle kisses along your jaw and to your ear. "Now pull your underwear down, bend over, and tell me how hard you want it."

The strangled noise you made had him laughing before he sucked on your neck. But sure enough, you started yanking down your own underwear, and then you turned your back to him. 

You looked up at him over your shoulder, smiling sweetly as you said, "Hard."

Bradley was working on his own button and zipper as quickly as he could. "That's my sweet Sugar," he crooned, and you bent over your desk, moaning his name. He carefully pulled your dress up so your ass was beautifully on display for him. His cock was gliding through your wet pussy as he gently kicked your legs a little further apart. 

You wobbled a bit on your high heels as Bradley ran his big palm along your ass, cupping and squeezing you. "Bradley," you gasped, wiggling yourself back against his hand. 

"You want it hard, Sugar? First, you need to promise me that if that asshole Philip Harding ever touches you again, you tell me immediately." Bradley knew his tone was a little rough, and when you met his eyes over your shoulder, you nodded. 

"Okay." Your voice was soft, just like your skin beneath his palm. Bradley squeezed you before spanking you one time. "Bradley!" you screeched, biting your lip and moaning. 

"Promise me," he demanded. "He never touches your lower back or any other part of your body ever again." His fingers skimmed up along that exact spot on your back.

"I promise!" you groaned, still pressing back against him. Bradley thrust into you, hoping like hell that Phil was still out in the hallway. He wouldn't mind one bit if the department dean heard everything he was doing to you. And if your current volume was any indication, then perhaps everyone else in the small auditorium would be able to hear you, too. 

"You wanted it hard," he grunted, absolutely slamming into you. "You're mine. Gonna be my wife."

"Yes!" you screeched, grabbing along the top of your desk, trying to hang on as he fucked you. Bradley ran his hand along the spot where he spanked you feeling the warmth there. 

"You're smart, Sugar," he praised, slipping his hand around to your clit and bending so his front was pressed to your back. "Now tell me who you belong to."

"You!" Your voice sounded a little hoarse, and he could hear it quiver as his fingertips spanked your clit. 

He growled next to your ear as he alternated between tapping and rubbing. "Say my name."

"Bradley!" 

"Good girl," he praised, pinching your clit until you screamed. And then he spanked your pussy through your orgasm, tapping just hard enough that your legs started shaking. 

"Fuck," you groaned, the single syllable loud and drawn out as Bradley took you by both hips and fucked you so hard, you were whimpering. 

"Mmm," he hummed, palming your ass. "I'd love to cum all over your pretty face right now, but you'll get that when we get home. I'll spread it all around. Mess up your makeup and let you lick my fingers clean."

"Bradley, please?" you begged, but he spanked your ass and shook his head, fucking your harder as he got close. "On my face!"

"No. You insisted we come to happy hour, and it's already going to be obvious what we did without my cum all over you, Professor Sugar."

"I love it when you call me that," you crooned, clearly enjoying this entire interlude. "Now fuck me until you come."

It didn't take long after that. He came inside your tight pussy, painting it up and chanting your name. His hands were tight on your hips, and as soon as he withdrew, Bradley knelt down behind you. He kissed along your ass and your thighs as you tried to stand upright on your unsteady legs. 

"Easy," he crooned, watching his cum drip out of you as he eased your cute underwear back up your legs. You spun to face him as he pulled your dress down. Your hair and makeup were a mess, your lips were a little puffy, and you couldn't stand up straight. You looked down at him, still kneeling before you. "I love you," he promised as you let your hands rest on his shoulders. 

"I know, Beer Boy," you whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. "I love you, too. And I love when we fuck in my office or the study rooms on campus. It's kind of our thing."

Bradley stood and kissed you softly. "Academia really suits me. I went to the University of Sugar."

You bit your lip and giggled as he led you toward the door. He took your left hand in his and spun your pretty engagement around on your finger as you made your way back to the happy hour. When Phil exited the men's bathroom a few doors down from your office and wouldn't make eye contact, Bradley smirked. 

"You were loud as hell," Bradley informed you just before rejoining the group. "And you look so fucking dissheveled, I can't wait to bust a nut on your face later."

"Beer Boy!" you gasped, following him with wide eyes as Bradley made his way back to Professor Rosenthal with a fresh drink. He had accomplished what he set out to do, and now Phil would think twice before he touched you again.

"So sorry we got interrupted before," Bradley said to the older man. "What were we talking about?" Then he listened to Professor Rosenthal talk about the politics of the math department, his upcoming retirement and his hip replacement. And all the while, you kept eyeing Bradley with a very satisfied look on your face. 

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

"Okay, Beer Boy," you muttered to yourself, sitting on a bench in the rose garden next to your building on campus. You were unpacking the lunch Bradley had made for you, which included a note with huge handwriting.

Sugar, Can't wait to get my hands all over you later. Love, Beer Boy

You snorted and tucked the note into your pocket. This is what he did now. Every day since he met Phil, Bradley wrote you a dirty lunchbox note. The first note last week had been about how Bradley wanted to fuck you in the Bronco when he picked you up from campus. And sure enough, he had done just that, in the parking lot behind the student union building. 

Of course Bradley knew what he was doing, because Phil had accidentally seen that note. And he hadn't eaten lunch with you since then. But now you were waiting for your new lunch pal, Professor Rosenthal.

"You win, Beer Boy," you whispered, texting him a photo of the note along with a little message from you.

I want your lips and tongue, too. 

You smirked and ate the lunch he packed you, excited to get home later. Excited to marry Bradley. Excited for everything. 

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

Love checking in with Beer Boy and Sugar from time to time! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #the university of sugar #bradley bradshaw imagine

[inklore]

impetuous

premise: the little games you and joel like to play become risky when you almost get caught.

pairing: joel miller x smuggler!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected piv, established enemies with benefits, dirty talk, a certain clothing item being used as a gag, small mention of masturbation and bjs, hints of angst.

note: episode eight changed me as a person, the integration scene rewired my brain chemistry and i just needed to get this out before i collapsed from being in heat. the gif was made by me so don't steal pretty please.

part of this world but you don't have to read it to enjoy this!

“Shh, shh,” Joel silences you, just as a hard thrust of his cock has your mouth falling open, a moan filling the air of the damp shed. The crunch of sticks and gravel outside makes your already thumping heart beat faster against your rib cage.

Brows drawn together, the hands gripping onto Joel’s flannel digging into his sides. The thumb that was just pressed to the column of your throat—dirty palm squeezing your airway just enough to lower your moans, enough to make you wetter and less coherent—now moves down to where you’re bare and his cock is fucking into you. The rough pad of his thumb moving along your clit, “focus right here.” 

Ignore the noises outside. 

Ignore the possibility of getting caught by someone out after dark and up to no good. 

Ignore the possibility of getting thrown in a cell by FEDRA because you two were out after dark and up to no good. 

“Fuc-Joel,” you whine. Clench your eyes shut until all you can see is little white dots behind them. Try to focus on those, on the burn you feel from the tears that are now prickling at your lash line from how hard you’re trying to focus. 

From how hard you’re trying to keep your mouth shut, to not getting caught—at least not before you’ve come. 

Joel’s words “focus right here” mocking and blaring in your head like a song you can’t stop humming, a song stuck in your head, a song you want to bodily remove from your brain stem; your focus on the footsteps outside no longer the issue; your attentions shifting to the head of his cock, hitting every spot inside of you that makes your legs tighten around his hips more, on the burning pleasure he’s delivering to your clit right now. 

You couldn’t focus on anything but him if you tried, and you’re trying really hard to focus that attention on staying quiet. 

Which the two of you know is not your forte, in and out of this situation. 

The countless times when Joel’s not fucking you come to the forefront of your mind of him complaining about your need to argue, to talk talk talk, instead of the two of you doing a trade, or making the other come. 

“Anyone ever told you you talk too much?” 

"Well, one of us has to do the talking, Mr. Resting Grump Face. Besides, you’d be bored if I didn’t make you work for what you came for.” 

“That what you call it? Workin’ for it? You mean until I give you what you want because you can’t seem to ask for it unless you’re deliverin’ me bad news,” he had smirked. Wiped the grin from your face and covered it with his mouth seconds later as he backed you into the wall, groin grinding against your front. “I got better uses for that mouth.” 

The scrape of the metal table your ass is on moves each time Joel thrusts, each time his cock drags against your sensitive walls over and over. If it weren’t for his jeans still covering half of him, the sounds of your skin moving against each other—and your wetness that was more than likely staining the front of his jeans, the small window in the back doing little to help light anything but his face and neck—would cover up the mewls and cries making your throat hoarse and raw each time they slip out when you fight to swallow them down. 

“The only way you know how to be quiet is with my cock in your mouth.” There’s humor in his tone; his heavy breaths add more heat to your face. You feel his free hand run along your leg, moving it from his hip for half a second as he pulls your underwear from your calf and over your ankle until it’s in his palm and he’s pushing the material into your mouth. 

You can taste the remnants of your arousal on the cotton, from even before the two of you started your little game. When it was still just a simple trade of stolen items and things your boss was too cowardly to hand off to the big bad grump. When he had just been scowling at you, listening to your bullshit story, and bidding the time until one of you cracked. Before both of you threw the items to the side and Joel’s hands were bending you over the nearest surface or pushing you to your knees. 

You swallow around the material, your whimpers caught by the fabric and barely audible. His lips press against the material, barely touching your lips; the sweat on his forehead mingles with your own as he presses it against yours. “Focus on comin’ for me, take what you came for. C’mon. Come with me,” he grunts. Moves his hips in a way that has your eyes rolling back and your teeth biting the salvia-soaked cotton. 

The hand not rubbing fast circles on your clit, cups the back of your skull. His dirty fingers wrapped in your hair, keeping you in place. Keeping you bent at the perfect angle so your hips can meet his. So his thumb has access to that nerve that’s making your toes curl—to push his cock further and further into you so the tip hits something pleasurably painful. 

When you’re coming, when his name is muffled against your underwear and your nails are clinging and digging into his skin from the searing heat that has your body convulsing against him—"That's it, that's it, take it” murmured against your forehead—you feel him finish seconds later. Your walls clenching and spasming around his cock. A deep grunt breathed against your skin. 

Your insides feel warm, like jell-o left out in the sun. Like if Joel never moved from between your legs and the two of you stayed connected forever, you wouldn’t mind. 

And after he’s pulled out and his warmth is gone from your body, you quickly shoot down the disappointment rising up inside of you that he didn’t stay between your legs longer. That this part of the night is over, and now you’re back to the game. 

To the reason you snuck out after dark to begin with. 

Completely denying yourself any opposing thought that could put that reason into question. The two of you have been doing this for too long for your mind to think it’s something it isn’t. 

Even when he doesn’t just take what he came for and leave or shoot you a scowl when he helps you find your pants, the way you expect him to. 

Or how he doesn’t let you go first no matter how much arguing you do against it—how he makes sure the coast is clear before signaling it’s safe. Him hanging behind to—cover his ass, you’re sure—make sure when you slip down the dark alleyway, no one is there to catch you sneaking away into the night. 

And later, when you’re laying in bed, you’ll chalk up the pounding need you feel again as you remember Joel’s rough fingers against you—your jaw, your neck, digging into your sides, your shoulder to keep you from moving anywhere but against him, anywhere but where he wouldn’t be inside of you—and his words still playing in your head “focus right here, come with me”, your heart will pick up, and you’ll have no choice but to sedate the ache you feel by making yourself come. Joel’s name on your tongue and bit into your bottom lip; you’ll blame it on his stupid mouth and your lack of options for sexual partners in this hell hole. 

It won’t be because of an attachment or attraction of any kind. 

Fuck that. 

And tomorrow, when you tell Robert to do his own fucking deliveries, it won’t be because of your feelings but instead because you almost got caught last night. This little game becoming more of a risk than entertainment for you, and you’ll be damned if you get in the mix with FEDRA over Joel and the underlying need the both of you have to pick each other apart and pull the hatred you harbor inside out with teeth, tongues, and fingers that make you see stars. 

But Robert is spineless, and you’re not convincing enough to make yourself believe you want to end anything with Joel. 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fics #joel miller fics #joel miller x smuggler!reader #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine

[rogueddie]

Playing dumb has always made everything so much easier for Steve. He'd first noticed it as a kid, when he'd gotten bored with his math homework. He'd played dumb, even used a little waterworks, and his babysitter had cracked like an egg. She'd done almost half of his homework for him.

He'd always been a fast learner too. Whenever he felt like he was actually falling behind, he very easily and quickly caught up... well, outside of the months surrounding Upside Down 'events'. It's hard to concentrate with all of that rattling around his brain.

It's why he kind of hates Eddie.

It had taken a long time for the kids to finally bully him into playing D&D with them. And, as loathe as he is to admit it, he's enjoying himself. But the more he gets into the game, the more he forgets that he's not supposed to be this good.

Eddie noticed almost immediately. He'd quickly made it a rule that no one can help Steve. Insisted that Steve's perfectly capable of playing on his own, that he can keep up.

It makes him feel more seen than he ever has. It feels like Eddie can see straight through any act he tries to throw out, smirks like Steve is telling a funny joke whenever he takes his time to try and make it look like he's struggling. Like Eddie can see him.

And, of course, he brings it up one day. He waits until the kids have rushed up to the Wheelers kitchen for food, a gentle hand on Steves arm to stop him immediately following after the kids to play babysitter.

"Why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know what." Eddie raises an eyebrow, challenging.

Steve hesitates for a moment. Eventually, just shrugs. "It's easier. Got me this far. Always been better than the alternative."

"You hang out with gays and nerds, Harrington. You're in the alternative. You can drop the act. No ones gonna judge you. Not with us."

"I don't know, Dustin might disown me."

Eddie laughs, tugging at his own hair almost playfully. "He'll just be mad he didn't guess sooner. Ignore him. You're allowed to enjoy things."

Steve shakes his head. Doesn't make any promises but... he does start spending more time with Eddie. Alone. And they talk about everything together. From Star Wars theories to D&D strategies.

He's not ready to drop the act, not by any means. It still works so perfectly for him and the idea of anyone really knowing him now makes him feel painfully uncomfortable. He likes being the idiot.

But, sitting with Eddie, just the two of them? It's easy. It feels right. He knows that Eddie isn't judging him. Knows that Eddie secretly loves knowing Steve better than everyone else. Although, Steve is pretty sure he'd tell Eddie anything if they could keep having more alone time together.

Maybe being smart can make this thing he has with Eddie easier. It makes a nice change.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #ficlet #stevecentric

[whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan]

🥃 Guess I’ll have to find something else to do with my mouth… 🥃

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Smutty smut smut smut

✎ Summary: Chan did not want to go to karaoke night, but good god is he thankful he did.

✎ CW: !!!Sewerslide joke!!!, drinking, swearing, random hookup, public makeout, oral sex, unprotected sex (please don’t fuck a stranger without a condom), rough sex, nipple play, choking, teensy daddy kink

✎ Word count: 2,804

✩ The song is Lovesick by BANKS, listen if you’d like 😈 ✩

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Ice meets upper lip when Chan throws his glass back to get the last drops of his drink. He hasn’t been working on this one long, but the whiskey’s been watered down by the melting cube — it may have come watered down from the bar, to be honest.

Regardless, it’s his fourth drink and he’s buzzed enough that it doesn’t matter. And on top of that, he’s bored.

“Want another?” Minho shouts over the loud backing track and off-key, wailing vocals.

“Naur, I’m about ready to head out, I think,” Chan yells back.

They swore karaoke night was Tuesday, but apparently, it’s Wednesday. Chan just wanted to go home; Minho convinced him to stick it out. But the lights are too bright and the singers are too drunk and he’s never been more ready to leave a bar in his life.

Minho’s still nursing drink #2 and scanning the room with his dark eyes. It’s the usual crowd, and Chan lost interest in meeting anyone new around the same time that one guy absolutely butchered Someone Like You by Adele. And this rendition of We Don’t Talk About Bruno has him ready to blow his brains out.

“Oi, I’m gonna get some air,” Chan says, gesturing toward the door with his thumb. “Meet me outside when you’re ready to go, yeah?”

Minho nods in reply and turns his attention back to a group of girls huddled by the stage.

Chan pats his friend on the shoulder and heads to the door — and sweet relief for his eyes and ears — skillfully weaving through the crowd as he goes. His hands meet the cold metal of the push bar but pause as soon as he hears it.

“Please call me your baby, baby, baby.”

It’s a new song, a new girl. Your velvety voice quite literally stops him in his tracks.

“Look how long that you have kept me waiting.”

He turns around, almost in a trance, and moves in the direction of that beautiful sound.

“Oh, I know your love before I kissed you.”

Chan joins the crowd circling the stage. He’s not the only one absolutely transfixed right now.

“And now you have only made me miss you.”

It’s not only the way you’re singing, it’s everything about you. The way your long hair drapes over your bare shoulders, the way your hips sway back and forth with the slow beat, the way you’re gripping that microphone…

“Come get me. Come love me, baby, come love me.”

The magnetic pull between you is impossible to fight, and Chan’s pushing through the crowd to get right up to the stage now. It’s not dense, but moving past bodies requires some effort and even more apologies, and he’s not nearly as smooth with it as he was just a minute earlier.

“Ooh, aah, cause I'm lovesick, and I ain't even ashamed.”

His dark eyes travel up your bare legs, and he’s not ashamed either. Any anxiety he would’ve felt in this moment of obvious adoration has been numbed by the alcohol.

Luckily for you, the lights are right in your eyes and you can’t see any of your audience, including the handsome stranger whose gaze is fixed on your thighs.

“And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets.”

Warm blood rushes to Chan’s cock, filling it up and stretching his jeans in seconds. The thought of you in his sheets…

“Would you be down to spend all your time with me?”

He absolutely would. And he stands there, almost eerily still, for the rest of the song. Head entirely empty of everything but thoughts of the siren in front of him.

“Cause I'm lovesick.”

You finish the song smoothly, but you have no idea how your friends convinced you to get up there in the first place. You’re nowhere near drunk enough for this, and you have every intention of immediately booking it to the bathroom to hide.

Lights dim as you take a tiny bow and step off the platform. You set off on a clear path to the restrooms before a big, broad stranger cuts you off.

His coffee-flavored eyes are wide and his lower lip is clenched between his teeth, and he just stares at you. It’s so intense, and if he weren’t possibly the most beautiful human you’d ever laid eyes on, it would be incredibly unsettling.

“Uh, excuse me…” you say, attempting to walk around him. But he grabs your wrist.

“I’m sorry, I… uh,” he stutters, staring down at your hands. Even he’s surprised at his urgency. What the fuck is he doing?

“I’m so sorry. I’m Chan,” he says, his firm grip on your arm disappearing before he continues. “You were, you are… wow.”

Eyes meet again, and his cheeks are flushed. But after that performance — and whatever the hell this is — yours are, too.

“Oh, thanks. I’m y/n,” you reply, finishing just before the next singer starts his assault on your ear drums.

You both wince, and his big lips turn down into a scowl. But his expression softens again when he not-so-slyly glances down to your chest and back up.

“You’re really beautiful, you know?” he asks, his husky voice straining to be heard over the music. “You here alone?”

Chan’s trying his best to feign confidence, but his heart is pounding. He hasn’t done anything like this in so long and you’re so sexy and he’s so… dizzy.

“Wow, straightforward, huh? I’m with friends,” you say, gesturing over to the huddle of girls by the bar, ready to pounce at the slightest signal of distress. “Very protective friends, clearly.”

“I can see that,” Chan answers. He rotates his hand in a small wave, but their expressions don’t change. No points to be won there. He’ll have to charm you on his own. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I don’t think you need another, honestly,” you say with a smirk. And you’re right. He’s speeding down the highway, two miles past tipsy and about to get off at drunk. But he’s also at his most confident. And that means he can say something sober Chan would never.

“Hm, you may be right. Guess I’ll have to find something else to do with my mouth.”

Your eyes narrow at him. He has this dumb smug look on his face while he waits for your reaction. The smirk only depends as more seconds pass.

“I guess I can get that drink at yours?”

Bingo.

“Shall we?”

Three texts, two attempts at calling an Uber, and one sloppy backseat saliva-sharing grope session later, you’re stumbling over each other up the stairs to Chan’s apartment.

Your hands haven’t left his body since you got in that Uber, and the same goes for his. Now you’re pulling at his hair, his shirt, his neck — anything to keep your mouths attached and get closer to privacy, to a socially acceptable place to be this feral.

Feet finally reach flat flooring and you shuffle to Chan’s apartment door. He has no clue where his keys are right now but he doesn’t particularly care. He’s focused on trapping your body between the door and him, pressing his palms into the wood and pushing his thigh between your legs.

Lips are past swollen at this point, and he’s focusing on your neck now, sucking and biting any spots that aren’t already coated in his spit. However many hickeys he’s already left on the delicate skin there — it’s not enough. And there aren’t nearly enough on your chest.

So, he heads there next, fondling one breast over your dress and nipping at your collarbones. Even if you’re only his for tonight, he’ll make sure you remember him every time you glance at your reflection for the next week.

One of your hands runs through his dark curls and the other grips the doorknob, trying to will it open. Keys are still an afterthought, though. His unoccupied hand is headed under your dress, between your legs.

He presses four fingers flat against you, and your head tips back against the door with a thud. He’s happy to discover that your panties are soaked through, and he can’t wait much longer to taste you.

If you two don’t tumble through that doorway soon, he’ll just have to take you right here in the hallway. But he’d prefer to have you laid flat, spread open, and writhing on his kitchen table. Time to find those keys.

Fingers fumble through his pockets, and of course he finds everything but what he needs. Phone, ID, cards, receipts, a condom, and more fall to the floor in his frantic search. Then, finally, keys. Fuck it, he’ll get the other shit later.

He makes quick work of unlocking the door and twisting the knob. The weight of your body pushes it open, and his hands reflexively go to your waist to keep you upright as you make your way to the table.

Chan swipes the miscellaneous papers and dishes to the floor and lifts you onto the cold wood. Lips reattach and he reaches for your pussy, slipping his fingers under the wet fabric to feel your folds.

You relax into his touch and slide your hips closer to the edge of the table. He drops to his knees and pulls you forward that extra inch to yank your underwear down your legs and onto the floor.

He sloppily sucks on your inner thighs, leaving a trail of red, swollen flesh on his way to your cunt. Once he gets there, he spits on you and dives right in to taste the combination of liquids on your sensitive skin.

Chan’s plump, pink lips are slick and saliva runs down his chin while he spreads your folds and dips in and out of you, savoring the flavor on his taste buds.

He locates your clit and prods it with a pointed tongue before flitting up and down. He alternates between targeting the sensitive bud to elicit more nectar out of you and lapping at your folds to indulge in the results of his hard work.

Chan has every intention of making you come with just his mouth, and the way you’re gripping the table and trembling and moaning makes him think that’s happening soon. And like clockwork…

“Hey, I’m… gonna…” you pant, trying your best to speak between breaths.

He doesn’t reply. He only grips your ass cheeks harder and buries his face further into you, and that’s enough.

Walls flutter around his tongue as you hit your climax, and you cry out loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He suctions his mouth against you to catch any additional arousal you have to give. It’s so sweet and tart, and he truly cannot get enough.

Your supporting arms give out and you collapse onto the table, satisfied and twitching from the aftershocks. Oh, but he’s not done with you. Not by a long shot.

Chan unzips his pants and reaches under his boxers to play with his thick cock. This is exactly what he pictured when he first laid eyes on you. Head thrown back, chest rapidly rising and falling, thighs parted, cunt dripping. What a beautiful sight.

“You want my cock, baby?” he asks, still stroking himself behind the fabric. He loves the reveal, so he’ll keep his length hidden for now.

You lift your head and lock onto his eyes.

“Please, show me.”

“I don’t know if you can handle it,” he teases.

You scoff at that pretentious shit.

“Try me, daddy.”

“As you wish, baby girl.”

He drops his underwear and unveils his veiny erection. It is impressive, but it’s even better that he knows how to use it.

His hands grip your hips, and he pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. He can’t hold back a throaty moan the first time his whole cock disappears inside you. It feels so fucking good, he forgets where he is for a second.

“Fuck me,” you hiss.

And then he’s back on Earth, pounding in and out of you at an unrelenting pace. Your legs wrap around his hips and your back arches off the table as you shudder beneath him.

Chan reaches for the straps of your dress, pulling one then the other down over your shoulders. He works the fabric down past your chest, freeing your breasts to bounce up and down with each thrust.

“Fuck…” he groans. How the hell are your tits perfect, too? The hardened peaks are just begging to be sucked, bitten, claimed.

He sacrifices a steady rhythm to put his lips on your skin again. His large frame descends so he can catch one taut nipple between his teeth. The bite isn’t too hard, but he’s pulling at the sensitive nub every time he rolls his hips.

You manage to pull enough air into your lungs to speak between moans, but he’s not sure if he heard you correctly.

“Say that again?” he urges.

“Ch-choke me.”

“Oh, fuck. Absolutely,” he growls.

His cock throbs inside you, and if he weren’t so excited about making you come again, he would’ve finished right then and there.

His huge hand engulfs your throat, pressing your neck down into the table.

“Smack me if I’m too rough, ok?” he says.

You respond with a half-hearted thumbs-up, too focused on the fire in your abdomen to think about much else.

He resumes those merciless thrusts in and out of your cunt, closing his hand around your neck just enough as he goes. He has no idea how he’s lasted this long and — as much as it pains him — he has to close his eyes in an effort to hold back his own orgasm until you find yours.

His field of vision is dark, but the sound of his balls slapping against wet flesh is hard to tune out. He can barely catch his breath and you’re whimpering and he can’t do this anymore. Good thing you can’t, either.

“Chan, I’m… don’t stop. Fuck, I’m, ohhh…” you cry.

“Me too. C-cum. Cum for me.”

He tightens his grip on your throat and jerks into you with one last powerful thrust. A choked sob escapes from your tortured throat and your walls clench around his cock, holding him there while he spills himself deep inside you. Your name is the only thing on his lips.

His fingers leave your neck and rest softly on your collarbones. His chest drops, and he lays his head on your breasts to try to catch his breath.

It takes a few minutes for the tremors to stop, but you both recover as best you can. Chan pulls out of you and disappears down the small hallway to get a towel for cleanup. You still haven’t moved when he returns, and a sly smile spreads across his lips.

“Oi, all good down there?” he chirps.

You respond with the same weak thumbs-up from earlier, making him giggle. God, he hopes this isn’t just a one-night stand.

He does his best to clean the mess, wiping his saliva from basically every inch of your skin. The towel can’t do anything for the tiny bruises, though.

Hickeys litter the flesh from your jawline all the way down to your inner thighs. And then there’s the thin outline of his long fingers on your throat. He really did a number on you, and he can only hope you won’t be too mad.

“So, still want that drink?” he asks.

“Hmm, maybe. If you’re up for it,” you mutter.

“Of course, what’s your poison? I have beer, whiskey, scotch, gin…” he says, padding over to his well-stocked alcohol cabinet.

You interrupt before he can reach the end of his list.

“I was thinking of something… else,” you purr.

He turns on his heels to re-route for the fridge, trying to remember what he has in there.

“Sure, like… watuh? Soft drink? Juice?”

He’ll run to the store for whatever it is if it’s not here. He’d do absolutely anything to get you to stay the night.

You don’t reply, and he turns again to meet your eyes. But your gaze is pointed down, aimed directly at his dick. He takes a second to process.

“Wait… you want…” he trails off and instead uses his pointer finger to gesture toward his crotch.

That same sly smile spreads across your lips this time. Jesus Christ.

Rehydration mission abandoned for the time being, he strides back to the table and climbs on top of you, propping himself up with palms placed on either side of your head.

“Ready when you are, baby.”

#I’m doing great #not really #send help #bang Chan #bangchan #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #bang chan imagines #bang chan oneshot #bang chan scenarios #bangchan x you #stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bang chan hard thoughts #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan drabbles #bang chan angst #bang chan hard hours #bangchan x y/n #bangchan hard hours #bangchan hard thoughts #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #stray kids #stray kids oneshot

[antifrgl]

Headcanons about Hobie Brown strangers to friends to dating with another Spider person where they meet at Spider Society?

thank uuuu for ur request, i was so bored !! hope you'll enjoy reading that anon !! srry for the possible mistakes, i just had a lot of thoughts rushing through my head 'cause hobie is definitely my fav !!

friends 2 lovers ☆ atsv

hobie x g-neutral reader, fluff.

despite his somewhat intimidating look, he has shown to be pretty friendly, so he certainly approaches you first ++ hobie assumed that you should be his age so it's simply natural to him !!

he's very cool about it, just asking you what's up, what's your name etc ...

at first, it's quite professional ?? you have great but small conversations when you two go on missions, yet you don't seek for more time to spend together.

later, as you go on more and more missions, you eventually become friends, but again it's not like you visit each other or vent about your life outside of being a spider person.

but hobie genuinely thinks that you're a great friend and partner since you can always reciprocate his energy during the few times that you see each other :p

e.g "i hate being called spider-" "i know, you hate being called spider-punk 'cause fuck them labels" "ay totally"

eventually, hobie starts to see you under a different light when he finds himself often seeking for your presence !!

like, he's totally great friends with gwen and pavitr, but oh man he just keeps thinking abt how much fun it is to be with you when he's hanging out with them >_<

on the other hand, he also finds himself only being able to talk to you about his ideas, about how he's totally against miguel's system, about how fucked up he thinks his government is ... bc he immediately noticed how you're always willing to listen and to try to understand his thoughts !! how cute (:

pls don't ever mention how he can be very talkative !!!!! hobie doesn't really notice how he talks a lot more around you and he'd probably feel childish if you ever point it out !!!

no need for anyone to tease him abt his crush on you for him to realize that he has feelings for you. instead, he's well aware of them and he's suspicious abt how you feel about him.

once, you randomly met hobie's gaze but you two suddenly sensed each other (yk that spider thing) and how you just stood there for a moment just like him led him to believe that you must like him too >_<

HOBIE IS THE FIRST TO CONFESS, but it's honestly so sudden !! he literally just blurts out his feelings for you in a random moment !! (it's such a hobie thing to do x))

"isn't it obvious ..." you said to hobie almost whispering as he throws you a confused look before you guided him as your eyes traveled to gwen and miles, who were talking and walking in front of you two. you heard a chuckle coming from hobie before you looked at him again, "i mean, i don't know about gwen ... but miles is so obvious" and it was your turn to chuckle before hobie eventually spoke, "what about me ? is it obvious that i like you ?"

BAM

what the heck hobie brown ??

anyway ... to anyone else including you, he would look totally cool and confident in the moment but hobie would be lying to himself if he pretended that he didn't apprehend your response.

i mean, the guy is truly in love with you so he can be a lil shy yk >_< but you wouldn't know abt it anyway ...

so you two just have this kind of awkward conversation when your brain is still trying to process what's happening ????

"what's obvious ?" "that i like you" "you like me ?" "yeah" "you know, i was saying how miles likes gwen, but not like a friend" "i know" "but you said-" "ay, i said i like you, what about it ?" "what-" "do you like me ?" "yes" "cool" "ok ... cool"

and for the rest of the day you're just ... super awkward with hobie but OH MAN HE'S NOT LETTING YOU DO THAT !!

he's sticking to you like usual, you literally can't run away from him !

after a while, you two talk about your feelings for each other in a more intimate atmosphere, just the two of you hanging out far from the others and everything becomes more clear as you're almost back to your usual self ...

"ay, why are you laughing ?" "i just thought that you wouldn't believe in love" "yeah ... until i was proven wrong ... no but seriously, i just never thought about love" "oh, okay"

i don't think you would call him your boyfriend or whatever, same for him. you two don't really make your couple "official".

BUT hobie wouldn't hesitate and answer yes if anyone asks you two if you two are dating !!! so it's not really a secret, you two simply wouldn't display it, it felt natural to the both of you :p

soulmates !!

#hobie brown x reader #spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #marvel x reader #spiderman x reader

[tangents-within-tangents]

The Bad Batch as Penguins of Madagascar Quotes

Bc I’ve seen a few posts making this magnificent comparison and both of these squads are near and dear to my heart and bc I need a distraction from the s3 premiere ahhh

Tech: *mission relevant info* Hunter: Tell me something I don’t know! Tech: Without mucus your stomach would digest itself Hunter: … Hunter: Tell me something else I don’t know…something less disturbing

Hunter: (to Caleb) It's okay, kid. We're not going to hurt you Crosshair: *cocks his gun* Not true, Hunter, they did authorize lethal force

Wrecker: *absolutely decking his bros* You pillow fight like a bunch of little girls!

Crosshair: What part of "zip it" eludes you?! The "zip" or the "it"?!

Echo: I don't mind saying it, that guy vexes me. *narrows eyes* He's a vexer.

Hunter: Boys, no training tonight. It's game night! Tech: Trivia! Let's play trivia! I dominate trivia! Omega: Oh! Can we play Simon Says this week? Tech: Yes, Simon says we play TRIVIA!!

Crosshair: I find reason tedious and boring. We'll use force.

Echo: I'm sorry, boys. I sometimes resort to sarcasm when facing the unknown Tech: No doubt

Hunter: Oh I’ve seen accident prone, try Wrecker and Crosshair! With a Chandrilan lantern! And SIX BOTTLES of rocket fuel!! Tech: Worst talent show ever

Hunter: There's no such thing as too paranoid, Omega. Remember that, and forget you ever heard it!

Tech: SCIENCE! WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!?

Omega: I have an idea! But I'm not sure how safe it is Wrecker: I like it already!

Crosshair: *while fighting* You cannot win, Hunter! I am fueled with a boiling hate! A raging fury! Hunter: And a babbling mouth! *slaps him*

Omega: No! I swore I’d never use my adorability as a weapon again, and I meant it!

Echo: Wrecker, cover Omega’s ears, I intend to use my angry words

Tech: This red line shows the frustration level of a really smart person forced to take orders from some dunder-brained boob. As you can see the frustration just keeps rising and rising and rising. I mean, why don't they put the smart guy in charge, huh? IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE! SOMETHING HAS GOT TO GIVE, PEOPLE! AM I THE ONLY ONE SEEING THIS?!

Wrecker and Omega: *run in making incomprehensible panicked noises* Hunter: Anyone catch that? Echo: *nonchalantly interprets it exactly* The Batch: … Echo: What? I’m fluent in panic

Tech: Cool cars go faster. That's a scientific fact.

Cody, in his one episode: I believe now I know why “volunteers” ends in “tears”

Hunter: No batcher gets left behind, that’s why! Wrecker: What about Crosshair? Hunter: Okay, one batcher gets left behind Omega: and Echo? Hunter: Maybe two batchers get left behind Tech: Um… Hunter: *groan* Comparatively few batchers get left behind, okay?!

Omega: I thought you agreed this was a dangerous weapon! Wrecker: Which is the best kind! What good is a safe weapon?! Tech: He has a point

Hunter: Avert your eyes, young Omega, you’ll never be able to unsee this! Tech, recording bc that’s his freaking hobby: Don’t worry about it I’ll burn you a dvd!

Crosshair: *standing outside the Marauder* Hunter! I have brought you a hand drawn greeting card! It says “Roses are red. Posies are green. Sorry about Bracca, I was too mean. Your pal, Crosshair” :) Hunter: *walks out and shreds the card*

Hunter: Get up here. That’s an order! Tech: *salutes* Permission to defy order? Hunter: Permission denied! Tech: Then I deny your denial (sorry)

Echo: *watching Hunter and Wrecker, captured and surrounded by stormtroopers* Well this hardly seems fair Echo: *jumps in a walker and defeats them easily* Told you it wasn't fair

*Phee and Tech kiss* Omega: *eyes being covered by Hunter* awww Wrecker: Finally!

#lots of hunter and tech bc rico doesn’t really talk #honestly hunter is quite different from skipper but its still hilarious to imagine him saying his lines #the penguins are ICONIC #seriously whoever wrote their scripts went so hard #they have no right to be that witty and chaotic #i love them #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch incorrect quotes #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #tbb phee #commander cody #the penguins of madagascar #tpom #skipper #kowalski #rico #private #hans the puffin #can i get an f in the chat for my boys manfredi and johnson #rip cody lol #his ep makes me cryy

[misguidedasgardian]

The course of Nature, part (2)

First Part

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of Negan’s brutality, cursing, implied coercion and kidnapping, mentions of polygamy, (c’mon guys, everything related to Negan in the Sanctuary), talking of periods and pregnancy, thoughts about abortion, sensitive content regarding pro-choice… SMUT, a soft mommy kink, rather pregnancy kink, a little biting and a little blood, Negan being a horny jackass.

might miss some warnings. 

TWD Era: Alexandria, Negan Era, (season 7) 

Notes: Seeing Negan saying, “Oh my, look at this little Angel!” and grabbing Judith from her crib did something to me, and here it is 

“Why don’t you want to be my wife?” he asked her, amused 

“Negan, I know you are like a rabbit or a jackass… you are horny and you hump the first thing you see, but I’m like a cool Eagle, or a wolf… I mate for life” she answered simply. And it was so clever he wasn’t even mad, he chuckled darkly watching her intently, hoping to burn the shape of her body and her face in his mind forever

“You are acting like someday I’m going to get bored of you and just let you leave” he whispered in her ear. He felt her getting nervous, the small hairs on the back of her head standing to attention and goosebumps in her arms. But still she acted like he didn’t cause her incredible fear.

“You might” she whispered

“Believe me, I will not” he answered back 

You didn’t want to have anything to do with the other wives of Negan, really, you didn’t want to talk to anyone, you didn’t want to make friends, you just wanted to stay in your room and most importantly, stay fucking alive and not make it worse for your friends in Alexandria

But…   

When weeks passed and you didn't get your period. You were quickly losing your mind

It was hard to keep track of the calendar in the fucking zombie apocalypse. All the electronics went to shit… but you guessed that outside in some place of the sactuary, someone might have a fucking clue.

Your period was like a swiss watch, you were never late, it was like clockwork, so you had a sense of when it was coming, so now, you left your room looking frantically for a calendar, or something 

The wives seemed surprised to see you, but somehow relieved, since he took you, Negan never left your side, he didn’t spend the night with any of them, you thought they’d be angry, or jealous, but the looks on their faces told you they were grateful, and relieved.

Even though Negan was proud to say he had killed rapists and didn’t tolerate the awful act, he did use coercion to get what he wanted, he used it on you, and probably all of them as well. Yes he did give them a choice but… “Be my wife or I’ll bash yours or your boyfriend's brains” didn’t seem much of a choice to you.

“Hey, we have been wanting to meet you” only two of them approached you, a redhead, and a smaller girl, with dark hair and and bangs, “I’m Frankie, this is Tanya”

“(Y/N)” You answered, “Sorry I was hiding in my room” you explained 

“It’s understandable” she drew an apologetic smile. There was an awkward silence, in which they expected you to say something, and all the way around

“I was wondering…” you started, “if any of you had a calendar, or something… a way to tell what day it is?” you explained. They all looked at eachother. The one you knew her name was Frankie took your hand softly and led you to the wall where there was this old calendar

“It’s the 17th” she said softly. You just nodded, confirming your fears, you were late, two fucking weeks late. You drew a shaky breath, tears burning the back of your eyes.

“Shit” you whispered, debating internally if you should share your fears or not

“What’s going on?” she asked you, “you can tell us”

“Yeah” a blonde one that seemed a little out of it also came close to you, “we are so grateful to you” she whispered with a reassuring smile, “For… distracting him…”

“I’m late” you choked out. You heard them gasp loudly, “I don’t know… I’m two weeks late and I feel like shit, I’m probably…”

“pregnant” murmured the blonde one 

Frankie must have known how you felt. Maybe they all did. She placed her soft hand on your shoulder to comfort you, and it worked. You draw a shaky breath, wiping the tears with the back of your hand

“What is he going to do?” you asked, “Is he going to… push me down the stairs or something?”

“We don’t know” she whispered, “we are the ones that take care of it” she explained, “he had never express his want to… have kids”

“He is the one that makes sure we use contraceptives” the black haired woman said

“I’ll go with you to the doctor” Frankie said, and you just nodded, “It’s the only way to be sure”. grabbing the hand she offered you tightly, and under the sad eyes of all of Negan’s wives, you left the room.

“I’m terrified” you murmured, when you came face to face with a man you knew they called Fat Joey

“Hey joey” greeted Frankie, and he eyes you both suspiciously

“Negan wouldn’t want you to walk alone” he said, “specially if you are terrified” you wanted to swallow your own words

“We are fine, Fat Joey” Frankie muttered

“Let me escort you” you squeezed her hand, but he walked behind you silently in your journey to the doctor’s office 

You managed to shake him off of you in the consult, you closed the door on his face.

“Good morning ladies, what can I do for you?”, this doctor gave you the creeps, but he was the only one around so…

Frankie gave you a reassuring smile, nodding, so you turned to the doctor

“I think I’m late”, you whispered, he looked at you and nodded

“Very well, I have a pregnancy test you could take”

It was the most uncomfortable 5 minutes of your entire life, and you were living in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, go figure

It took less than 10 minutes for the two lines to appear, and you truly felt like you were going to lose it. Frankie didn’t say anything, neither did you, but she hugged you tightly and you hugged her back

“Everything is going to be alright, it’s still early”, she whispered sweetly in your ear, caressing your hair, you only nodded, it was true, it was only a couple of weeks… Frankie looked at the doctor

“Is there anything you could give her?”, she asked. The doctor looked at you and then at her. 

“No”

“That’s a lie”, she accused

“Yes”, he said simply

“You have to do something!” you demanded, “Give me something…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do anything without Negan’s permission” 

“WHAT?” you argued, “It’s my body…”

“It’s Negan’s baby” he said seriously, “I can’t do anything or give you anything without him knowing” He perfectly could, but he had clear instructions from Negan, and he valued his own life more than yours. 

. . .

Negan knew something was wrong when he passed the lounge where his wives were and they all looked at him in terror.

Did someone die?

Did someone escape? or tried to?

He hadn't punished someone publicly this week, so he knew this wasn’t that. And if someone actually had died, betrayed him or escaped, he would have known by now, so, what was it? He looked directly at Frankie, she averted her gaze, but her eyes looked at the wall to the right. He just nodded, silently, and kept walking until he found himself at your door. He knocked twice, but you didn’t answer, so he just went in.

He found you with your back turned to the door, in a fetal position on the bed 

“Hey sunshine” he greeted carefully, and he saw you flinch. You turned, slowly, and he was surprised to see you crying. Did you find out about all the things he had done in Alexandria? No, impossible, “What is going on?” he asked, you were there, in front of him, so you didn’t tried to scape, and you didn’t kill anyone so he wondered what got you so fucking scared of him right now

“I’m sorry” you whispered, “Negan” you called, “I love you” oh how much he could have given to hear you say those words, but the way you say them, it was desperate, you sounded like Amber, you didn’t mean it, in fact, you wanted to calm him down

“What is going on?” he repeated the question, harder this time, making you flinch raising your shoulders and trying to hide between them 

“I’m pregnant” you whispered, you dropped the revelation and then you wanted to bend over your own body to protect yourself from him, and that is what kind of broke him. “I’m sorry”

Of all the reactions he may had that you played in your mind, him chuckling and smiling widely wasn’t one of them 

“You are not mad?” you asked back, and he shook his head

One of the most scary things about Negan is that he was totally unpredictable, you could never guess what’s coming 

In one scenario he grabbed you by the arm and threw you down the stairs, and then made sure to beat you up until there was nothing left inside of you. In another he’d let the doctor get his hands on you, but you never, ever, thought he’d be happy about it

“Aw honey, this is wonderful news!” you jumped when he yelled that, opening his arms in celebration, he never stopped looking at you, “An heir!” he continued, “A little savior, a little Negan or Lucille” you shook in your place when he called his deceased wife’s name

And suddenly, you were more scared.

“A little Lucille?” you muttered, he had told you everything about his late wife, and the thought he might be using you to relive some weird fantasy chilled your bones. Suddenly you felt your eyes wet with tears, and not being able to stop them, fat, bitter tears started running down your cheeks, “No…” you whined. His face dropped when he saw how you started to lose it, you started to hyperventilate 

“Hey, sweetheart, I need you to relax”

“You have to talk to the doctor, so he’ll give me something…” you tried to explain

“Why would I do that, baby?” he asked

“I can’t have your baby” you whined, wiping your tears

“Why the hell not?” he asked, this time his face became so serious so fast you shook in fear

“Negan…” you called, expecting him to understand, “please” he softened his gaze on you, with his gloved hand he caressed your cheek as he smiled sweetly at you, but that didn’t calm you, he was unpredictable and you’ll do well in remembering that. He leaned in and kissed you softly, gently, as he was scared of breaking you

“You are going to be an amazing mother sweety” he whispered against your lips and you only whined, “anything you want, everything is yours!” he announced, standing up, “I’ll tell all of them, to bring you anything you could need” 

“You are going to let me carry this baby?” you asked

“Of course”, he said simply

“Please Negan”, you whispered, “I can’t bring a child into this world”

“It will have hundreds of people that will take care of him”, he said, “we are in the sanctuary baby”

“Negan please”, you begged, he just say on the edge of the bed, cradling your face with his big hands

“This a good thing baby”, he whispered, leaning in and catching your lips with his

“Negan”, you whined against his lips

“You are going to be such a good mommy”, he purred, abandoning your lips and going down your throat with heated open kisses

And you snapped out of your hornyness, you grabbed his face and pushed him off of you

“Darling..!”

“Fuck off Negan!”, you grunted, but your heated face told him your resolution wouldn’t last long, you were as horny as he was. He smiled wickedly

He knew he had chosen well, you were going to protect that baby with your life, your lioness instincts already kicking in 

“C’mon mommy”, he purred, “come to daddy”

“I hate you”, you said, with no conviction in your voice

“No you don’t”

And perhaps that is what was so messed up about all of this

You were scared to death, yes, but you were also… excited

And Negan could see that

He approached you again and held you in his arms, he leaned in and again he kissed you. It was soft at first but then it turned heated, you grabbed him roughly, pulling on the hairs on the back of his neck making him grunt needily

“You like it rough, don’t you?”, he mocked, you didn’t want to talk, you just took his leather jacket and threw it on the floor caresly

Another day he would have make a big fuss about it, but today he knew better

“he leaned over you, wanting to pin you down to the bed, but you didn’t let him, instead you managed to pin him down, straddling him 

“Oh baby”, he purred, “or should I say… mommy?”

“Shut up”, you growled, leaning in and kissing him roughly. he immediately responded with teeth and licks of his own, but as you separated from him, you bit his lower lip until blood came up 

He whined under you, not pained but horny and almost pathetic, you grind your hips against his own, feeling his cock hardening between you, giving you goosebumps

“Hormones?”, he teased, but you shushed him up, you wanted him, you needed to feel him, you needed to distract yourself from everything that has happening

You almost ripped his pants off of him, making him chuckle, setting himself comfortably on the bed, you stood up to toss your own pants away from you, and then you crawled back over him. HIs greedy hands tossed your upper clothes, and finally he had you naked all to himself. You leaned in and kissed him roughly

“Yes mommy”, he teased, and you couldn’t help but slap him, not hard, and he only smiled wickedly, “I loved this side of you baby”, he purred, placing his hands on your hips

“You are so fucking mean Negan”, you accused, “you misogynistic prick!”, but you couldn't stay angry at him, you leaned in and kissed him before he could make some snarky remark. He responded at the kiss immediately, his greedy hands caressing you all over he could, your thighs, your sides, your hips. You rubbed your pussy against his hard cock, and you couldn’t help it anymore, you needed him.

You used your hand to pumped his thick cock a few times, before impaling yourself with it

“Fuck!”, you cursed at the same time, perhaps Negan was so attracted to you because you both sounded alike sometimes

You started riding him angrily, almost like you wanted to hurt him, but that turned him on even more. You started moving your hips back and forth. and the friction in your clit almost made you loss it

“FUCK THAT’S IT BABY”, he whined, and you gasped, feeling your orgasm build incredibly quickly

“I hate you”, you cried when you cummed

“I know”, he whispered, entertained, letting you fuck him for once, admiring the goddess riding him.

But you rode him until you cummed again, finally making him finish inside of you.

You let yourself fall on top of him, as you both recuperated, he just held you, caressing your naked back

“I mean it”, he gasped

“What?”, you asked back

“I will do anything to protect you”, he promised, “I leave Rick alone, I promise, you will be a great mother, I really believe that”, you smiled, not letting him see it, of course.

. . .

“Arat” the girl was on his side on a second, that determined look in her eyes that Negan liked so much, “If something happens to me… “ he started, and she frowned, like he just spoke treason, “If this world is fucked up and for reason I fucking die and Rick the prick is still alive I want you to do something for me, ok?”

“You want me to kill him Sir?” she asked, and he chuckled

“No, I want you to take (Y/N) to him” he whispered, “without me controlling everything she is in danger, I want you to make sure she comes back to her people”

Damn, being a father does change you and your priorities 

He thought with a smirk on his face and a swing of his bat

TAGLIST @neganswoman @nijiru @imvomitting @aleemendoza2425-blog @0vecam @heavenhatesme

#misguidedtwd #negan x reader #negan #negan x you #negan smut #twd negan #the walking dead

[oct0bra1ns]

Just did my nails and in the hour it took I thought of this so do with it as u please

I don’t know if you’ve ever done anything like this

But like any type of yandere monster recreating your house/ room perfectly and then bringing you there and their super happy bout it and like ‘look what I made! Don’t you just love it? 😊😊”

like a demon? Omgmgmg or some hot vers of boogie man

idk tbh I have a lot of ideas I’m just trying to give u som of my mind

like summoning a demon bc why not? A bitch was bored 🌝 and it’s all scary and shit and you’re just totally chill, “hey man, didn’t mean to summon you- you wanna just like? I don’t know…go back to hell?” And the demon is obv offended

so it follows u around menacingly and yeah

ur his now ❤️

anyways do with this as u please 💕💕 I love ur writing sm btw, I hope the food u eat always taste good and yr pillows are cold on both sides!

Pairing: Yandere Monster x reader Tw: manipulation, mentions of bringing harm to others , yanderes, notes: big brain, the best ideas always come when you're doing your nails tbh and THANK YOU, I HOPE THE YEAR GOES AMAZING FOR YOU. reblogs and comments are appreciated!

CONSIDER, the monster had already been admiring you for a while now, taking note of the style you wear, the food you eat, and trying to find what kind of house you'd like so all these things could add up as a plus point when you finally summon him.

Yandere monster who wastes no time in trying to get you to come home with him but the moment you ask him to go back sheepishly, he gives you such an offended looking, asking you what he lacks for you to try to send him away.

Eventually, he gets you to let him stay, allowing to choose whether you want to stay here or go back with him, either way, he'd making sure you lack nothing and are well looked after. He takes pride in knowing your tastes and admires the way your face lights up when you see what he's done for you.

If you choose to stay here, he changes his appearance to fit the standards of the humans whenever outside but in the house, he has no problem flaunting the markings on his skin and horns. To fit in, he uses his influence and power to build up a company from the ground, one where signing a contract with him means selling your soul for success.

He isn't concerned with competition, all he cares about his making sure you're well taken care of but do not mistake this for him being laid back, he's always at your side at parties or anyplace you go to keep other pests away from you, any idiot who dares to approach you will become bankrupt and deal with many things they've been trying to hide or they will be caught in an unfortunate accident.

If you choose to go back to his realm, the way your spoiled only amps up, being from one of the most influential families back home, you've basically become royalty. Of course, his people are not so accepting at first but seeing as he ranks way over them, they keep quiet, his family on the other hand will adore you, admiring the chaos you bring along with being their son's partner.

Always at his side in every event, not as an object to be admired but as his partner and equal and anyone who tries to approach him about how you make an excellent pet will be made an example of what not to do.

Loves picking out clothes for you that are from his realm, tailoring them to fit you perfectly and making sure that above anything else, you love the way it looks.

Any freedom you had back in the world is basically gone in his world, the people here are horrible, you never know when they'll decide to change their mind and try to show off.

octo notes:hmm, thinking of naming him deimos :p

#octo answers #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #octo writes #tw yandere #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere monster #yandere x willing reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Out On The Town

Plot: Tess and Joel demand answers from Y/n and Ellie on the details of Ellie’s condition and venture out into the city.

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: tlou ep.2 spoilers, language, canon typical violence, allusion to sexual harassment, guns, blood (16+)

A/N: PLEASE READ. Hello, my loves 👋🏻 I’m so glad everyone’s enjoying the series. I placed this in the previous chapter and a few other posts, but need to reiterate it. I’m not adding anyone to the taglist if they don’t have their age in their bio. This is a 16+ series and I’m trying to look out for younger eyes on here 👀

Other than that, I hope everyone enjoys these next two chapters. This one’s less action and more set-up for future parts. The next one should be out before Sunday’s episode. Read on, babes!!

—————————

May 10th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

The only proof Joel had that he’d been at the bar the night before was the throbbing pain in his temples. It was a sobering reminder that his talent for drinking was slipping with age. Still, he pounded some coffee and an Aspirin, picked up Tommy and headed off to work.

On their way, Joel found his eye straying to each women he drove past that even bore a tiny resemblance to Y/n. He should have been surprised that it had only taken one meeting for her to brand herself on his brain, but she was something special. She probably had that effect on everyone she met.

Joel parked the car outside the hardware store, leaving a semi-hungover Tommy to grab a few more minutes of sleep. Sarah was at soccer practice for the morning and then off to a friend’s house, they could almost get in full day of work.

Both the Miller brothers knew their way around the store like the back of their hands. Joel went to the back to get his quota of wood cut, made small talk with the older guy who worked the cutter and navigated the aisles effortlessly. There was nothing new about any of it…

On the other side of each aisle, Y/n was pushing a cart and restocking product. Home improvement wasn’t her passion in life, but her father had been one of those “don’t pay someone to do it if you can do it yourself” kind of guys, so it came natural to her. The pay was good, she liked her boss, and she enjoyed the community aspect of the job.

They were dancing without knowing it. Each time Joel moved in one direction, Y/n moved in the opposite, and vice versa.

Eventually, Joel got to the last thing on his list: a new drill bit. He steered his cart around a corner and down the corresponding aisle. When he got to the hook it was supposed to be on, he found it empty. This was not the day for that…

Y/n pulled down the aisle, spotting a customer rifling through a shelf, and put on her employee smile. “Can I help you find some-“

Joel practically smacked his head on the shelf above, standing up as soon as he heard that familiar voice.

Y/n’s eyes lit up, “You.”

“You,” Joel echoed, a surprised smile coming to his face.

“Hi,” Y/n chuckled.

Joel’s brain stopped firing any and all signals, “Hi.”

“So we had the same early morning planned,” Y/n smiled.

“Shoulda carpooled,” Joel replied, earning a breathy laugh. His chest warmed.

“How are you?” Y/n asked, as if some grand thing had occurred in the past twelve hours they’d been apart.

Joel leaned one arm on the handle of his cart, “Good. Headin’ off to work.”

“No Tommy?” Y/n looked over his shoulder.

“Nah, he’s sleepin’ last night off in the truck,” Joel said, putting a hand on his hip.

“Can’t say I blame him,” Y/n looped a finger through the grate of her cart, swinging her body into the aisle, “I shouldn’t have let you two buy me that second glass.”

Joel smirked, “Can’t hold your liquor?”

“Oh, I can hold it,” Y/n said confidently, scrunching up her face after, “Until the next morning.”

The two of them shared a short laugh before Y/n remembered why they were there. “You were looking for something,” she pointed to the shelf.

He was? “Oh, yeah,” Joel remembered, “Quarter inch bit.”

“Hang on,” Y/n said, determinedly sorting through one of the boxes in her cart. She pulled out the piece of steel and held it up victoriously.

“You’re my hero,” Joel said, taking it from her, “Day would have been a waste without this.”

“Well, there you go,” Y/n couldn’t help herself from beaming, “You saved me last night, I returned the favor.”

Joel internally winced at the memory.

“Are you done shopping or can I pull anything else out of my magic Mary Poppins cart?” Y/n quipped, patting a hand against one of the boxes.

“Nah, that was the last thing on the list,” he answered, wishing dearly he’d written more on the piece of paper in his hand.

“Well, I’ll check you out,” Y/n said, wishing she’d chosen any other phrasing.

Joel held up a hand, “I don’t wanna take you away from what you’re doin’.”

“Please, you’re doing me a favor,” Y/n grabbed the end of her cart and began to drag it down the aisle, “You’re the first human interaction I’ve had all morning.”

Deciding that he was doing a service and nothing more, Joel followed her through the store. He didn’t know if he believed in fate, but he believed in luck, and it felt like he’d gotten tossed a rare bit of good luck by meeting Y/n again.

Y/n was half convinced she’d caused Joel to materialize. Here she was, thinking about him and his big brown eyes all morning, and then there he was. It was either an unbelievable stroke of luck, or someone Up There had seen fit to brighten her day a little.

As Y/n scanned Joel’s items, a nervous silence blanketed them. Everything that filtered through their minds sounded too awkward to say. There wasn’t a whole lot of ground to cover, they’d only known each other for less than twenty four hours.

“You doin’ okay?” Joel finally asked, hoping he wasn’t crossing some line, “After last night?”

“Oh,” Y/n looked down at the pile of purchases, “Yeah, I’m fine. Not the first time it’s happened. I just need to get better at defending myself.”

Joel’s blood boiled under his calm demeanor, men were awful. “There shouldn’t be a need in the first place,” he bit out as he gripped his cart a little tighter.

Yn shrugged sadly, “It’s the world we live in. That’s why it’s so nice to meet guys like you and Tommy. You make up for your sex’s failings.”

Joel chuckled under his breath as he handed her his debit card, “Not sure we can fill that tall an order.”

Laughing softly enough to make Joel’s chest flutter a little, Y/n rang up the order and handed him the bags.

“Well, I guess I know where I’ll be seeing you two from now on,” she said.

“Yeah,” Joel replied, “And thanks for helping me find that bit. You really saved our asses.”

Y/n playfully held her hands up, “I didn’t get employee of the month for nothing.”

Joel could hear that little voice in his head, the same one that had a residency in the gut, telling him to take a shot and ask Y/n out. He wasn’t a timid guy, but she had some sort of spell on him that made his palms sweat and his mind go blank. Plus, he’d sworn off bringing anyone into his life a long time ago. It was all around, a bad idea.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” he finally decided on.

Y/n hoped her smile hid all her sadness, “See you.”

Joel and his cart made it about three steps before he threw caution to the wind.

“Hey,” he turned around, “Do you think, maybe….I could take you to dinner sometime?”

Y/n’s grin spread like wildfire across her face, “Yeah,” she replied, “I’d like that.”

Both of them released a caught breath, Y/n pressed a button on the printer and tore off a piece of reciept paper. She scribbled her number down.

“I work a lot,” she told him as she wrote, “But I’m usually free on Fridays.”

“Okay,” Joe took the paper from her, their fingers brushing, “I’ll call you.”

Y/n had to physically restrain her lips and the giggle that threatened to show itself. “You do that,” she responded, fiddling with her pen.

Joel gave a sideways smile, deciding to get out while he was on a winning streak. He held up a hand and turned on his heel, confidence powering his stride.

Y/n stayed at the checkout counter a little longer, trying to compose herself lest customers think she was high. She set her pen back down and did a little skip back to her cart. It was going to be a great day.

Joel made it back to the truck, loading his supplies into the flatbed with unusual enthusiasm. He didn’t care about his headache, his backache…he was flying too high for anything to bother him. He climbed into the driver’s seat, Tommy groaned as he did.

“You took your time,” he grunted.

Joel didn’t get many moments of victory, he was going to let himself bask in this one a while. He held up the piece of paper to Tommy, who leaned over and read it. Above an unknown phone number was Y/n’s name with a heart next to it.

Tommy’s grin stretched, “No way.”

Joel simply grinned and started up the truck.

“No fuckin’ way,” Tommy got louder, reaching over and shaking his brother’s shoulder. They drove off, Joel’s mood was shifted for the day. The nerves would set in later. For now, he just wanted to be excited about taking out the beautiful girl from the bar.

—————————

2023, Boston

Tess slammed Y/n up against the inside of the abandoned building.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Y/n pulled on Tess’ jacket and tried to flip her around. She rammed her elbow down on Tess’ arm and broke the hold. Before Tess could fight back, Joel took hold of both their arms and wrenched them apart. Y/n slipped as he did an fell on her side, refusing to groan and let any vulnerability show.

“I already told you,” Y/n grunted, pushing up on one arm, “She’s not sick.”

“You think we’re just gonna believe you?” Tess continued, “Give us one reason why we shouldn’t kill you both right now.”

Y/n smirked, her eyes bouncing to Joel, who glared at her with the same coldness he had twenty years ago. “How else are you going to get your battery?”

No matter how much control Joel wanted to pretend he had over the situation, Y/n held the real power. Ellie and her were the key to getting to Tommy.

Ellie watched this all from the side, exhausted and scared.

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” Y/n stood to her feet and pointed to Ellie, “She’s going to get some sleep. At some point tonight, I’m going to do the same. Have a gun on me the whole time, I don’t fucking care,” she gestured between her and the girl, “But both of us are going to be breathing come morning,” she looked to Joel, “Or else you get to live with the fact that Tommy could have lived if it wasn’t for your overeager trigger finger.”

Joel’s blood boiled, furious with Y/n for having stepped over that line. How could she speak about his life so carelessly?

“We’ll take the first two shifts,” Tess stated, leaving no room for argument, “But we get our answers first thing.”

Y/n gave a single nod, picked up her backpack and motioned for Ellie to come with. In the middle of the building, there was a patch of grass that could act as a bed. Y/n sat down and pulled out her sweater, balling it up and laying her head atop it.

“Are you sure they won’t kill us?” Ellie asked quietly, she followed Y/n’s actions and crumpled up her jacket.

“Positive,” Y/n said as she shut her eyes. Joel may have been reckless with her life, but he’d sooner die than let anything happen to Tommy.

Ellie curled up a few inches away from Y/n. It was funny what life-or-death circumstances could do to people. Y/n was the only person Ellie had taken to out of the Fireflies, but now, with Tess and Joel as her other options for comfort, she was her new favorite person. Ellie turned on her side to face the woman, the only person she could count on to protect her…

—————————

Sunlight across Y/n eyes woke her up. She stretched out her legs and yawned, spotting a sleeping Ellie at her side. She’d never gotten woken up for her turn to keep watch, but that had been expected. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was waiting in front of her.

Sure enough, Joel had his rifle pointed straight at her chest.

“You’re getting predictable,” Y/n remarked, rubbing one of her eyes.

Ellie woke soon after, sitting up and finding the same sight.

“Morning,” she said. The second she moved, Joel’s gun followed her. Y/n immediately pulled her gun off of her belt and pointed it at her ex.

“Do I look like I’m infected?” Ellie asked.

“Show us your arm,” Joel demanded.

Ellie rolled up her sleeve and showcased the scarred bite. Tess and Joel leaned forward to examine it, which was hard to do with half a room between them.

“Yeah, it’s not getting any worse, is it?” Ellie said impatiently, “If we’re out in the open city, why aren’t we getting swarmed?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Joel ignored her concern.

“Well, I’m gonna,” the girl replied.

“What was Marlene doing with an infected kid?” Tess switched lanes.

Ellie shook her head, “I’m not infected.”

Tess and Joel gave a deadpan stare, Y/n rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like it was a fucking fairytale they were asking them to believe. There was proof right in from of them.

“She found me after I was bitten,” Ellie continued.

“And she didn’t shoot you,” Joel put another piece of the puzzle together.

“Clearly not. She locked me up and had her guys,” Ellie glanced over to Y/n, “Test me every day to see if I was getting sick.”

“Test you how?” Tess asked.

Ellie sighed, “I have to pee.”

Nobody cared. “Test you…how?”

“They’d make me count to ten and hold my hand out and then keep it steady,” Ellie answered, “But, you know, I think what really impressed them was that I didn’t turn into a fucking monster. Now can I please?”

As Ellie stood up, Joel rose with her, and so did Y/n. Betrayal and loyalty mixed between them like oil and water. Ellie held her hands up, caught in the middle of it.

“Fine,” Tess relented, “Back there, you can find a spot. And here,” she tossed a magazine Ellie’s way, “Tear out a few pages.”

Ellie glanced between Y/n and Joel, checking to make sure there wasn’t about to be a shootout, and headed back. “There’s not gonna be anything bad in here?”

“Just you,” Joel answered.

“Oh, funny,” Ellie said before disappearing.

With her gone, Joel and Y/n really had no reason to still be aiming at one another. At the same time, they cautiously lowered their weapons. Despite whatever tragic nostalgia they’d indulged in the night before, they’d gone back to hate, as if their memories had been a symptom of some bad hangover. It was all forgotten in the light of day.

Joel sat back down with Tess, letting his unflinching stare rest on Y/n. Y/n had seen enough of that scowl to not be intimidated by it. Eventually, when nothing more could be said, his eyes dropped to examine his hand. The pain had set in overnight and he couldn’t keep it from shaking.

“Broken,” Tess stated, sitting down next to him.

“Maybe a hairline,” he replied, never looking at her, “It’ll heal fast.”

“Okay,” Y/n muttered, clapping her hands together, “You keep thinkin’ positive, I’m gonna go take a piss.”

She marched over the small hill of grass and knocked on the door frame of Ellie’s makeshift bathroom. “Me,” she announced.

“Don’t fuckin’ look,” Ellie said quickly from somewhere in the room.

“I’m not,” Y/n replied, staring at the ceiling as she wandered, “Just tell me where to go.”

“Left a little,” the girl instructed, “Straight. There you go.”

Y/n unbuckled her pants and squatted, “Throw me the book?”

Ellie tossed the papers her way, they awkwardly went on with their business in silence.

As much as Y/n hated to let Joel have any sort of win over her, if they were going to convince him and Tess to help them to the State House, he was going to need more information.

“You’re gonna have to tell them,” she told Ellie, “About out West.”

Ellie was finished and standing on the other side of Y/n, “I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/n sighed, “They’re not gonna believe you unless you do. Marlene would say the same thing.”

“What about you?” Ellie asked, “Would they believe you?”

Y/n bitterly chuckled, the memories that once had stingers now couldn’t penetrate her thick skin. “No, they won’t believe me. You’re our only shot.”

Outside, Joel and Tess were discussing the sudden plot twist.

“She made it through the fuckin’ night, Joel,” Tess urged, her voice dripping with hope.

“It doesn’t matter,” Joel argued, “It’s gonna happen sooner or later. Alright? We’re still close to the Wall, we sneak ‘em back into the QZ. We find a different way to get the battery.”

“What about her?” Tess asked, there was no need to specify which one she was referring to, “You don’t believe her?”

“I don’t trust a fuckin’ word that comes out of her mouth,” Joel answered harshly, the past nipping at his heels, “She’s lied before and she’ll do it again.”

Tess had something unique going for her: she didn’t share history with Joel and Y/n. She saw through all their bullshit objectively. “This is our best shot,” she said, “We take ‘em back to the QZ, someone’s gonna notice her arm, they’ll scan her, then they’ll kill her.”

Joel wasted a heartlessly little amount of time with his reply, “Well, better her than us. You need to stop talkin’ about this kid like she’s got some kind of life in front of her.”

He didn’t know it, but he should have felt grateful that Y/n couldn’t hear his comment over the ripping of magazine pages. She would have shot him then and there.

Ellie and Y/n walked out, Ellie tossing the magazine back at Tess and Y/n keeping close watch as she took her seat.

“You hungry?” Tess offered to Ellie, “You can share some of ours.”

“Thanks,” Ellie replied, “Marlene sent me with my own.”

If Y/n wanted to feel like she was beating Joel in something, breakfast gave her the win. While he picked at a piece of jerky with his fractured hand, she and Ellie worked on their oversized sandwiches. Petty? Perhaps. But Y/n felt entitled to whatever form her hatred wanted to take.

“Is that chicken?” Tess finally asked.

Ellie nodded, “Yeah. Marlene and Y/n say they get it from smugglers. Guess not you guys.”

For whatever reason, even though she’d attacked her, Y/n was starting to feel empathy for Tess. She was the only one semi-amenable to Ellie’s situation. Against her instincts and more in line with her heart, she ripped the rest of her sandwich in half and walked it over to Tess, who looked up appreciatively. On her way back, she made a point of passing by Joel.

Tess stood up and approached Y/n and Ellie, setting Joel off. “Hey. Hey!”

“Why-“ Tess started, throwing a hand up to Joel to stay put, “Why is she so important to you and Marlene? And don’t lie to me or we’ll take you both back.”

“You take us back,” Ellie answered for Y/n, “You don’t get your battery.”

“You heard that?” Tess scoffed, “Well, then you must’ve heard that he wants to shoot you.”

Y/n wanted her heart to break at the comment, but when she looked into Joel’s eyes, she saw nothing. Nothing.

“He also knows he dies if he does that,” Y/n retorted, staring down the man like she could burn a hole through him by sheer force of will.

Tess kneeled down in front of Ellie, “I’m gonna talk to you like you’re an adult, okay? Joel and I aren’t good people. We’re doin’ this for us because, apparently, you’re worth something. But we don’t know what you’re worth if we don’t know what we have. So answer my question.”

Y/n and Joel saw none of the conversation, their eyes were locked on one another like bulls locking horns.

Ellie, however, took Y/n’s advice. “There’s a Firefly base camp somewhere out west,” she confessed, “With doctors. They’re working on a cure.”

Absurdity won and Joel broke his stare first, “Mm-hm, I’ve heard this before.”

“And whatever happened to me,” Ellie continued, “Is the key.”

“Is the key to finding the vaccine,” Joel’s voice overlapped with hers, turning to Tess, “That’s what this is? We’ve heard this a million times. Vaccines, miracle cures. None of it works. Ever.”

“This time it’s different,” Y/n argued.

Ellie stood up, “Fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You and me both,” Joel retorted, “This isn’t gonna end well, Tess. We need to go back.”

“Oh, yes,” Y/n smiled a joyless smile, “Once again, Joel Miller’s making decisions for everyone. What a comfort.”

It was the first time she’d said his name in twenty years and it was doused in venom. It should have hurt.

Tess got to her feet and came to Joel, “Let’s just finish it. It doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t what the Fireflies say she is. If they believe that she is, then…we get what we want.”

Joel faced two realities; one in which Y/n’s words from the night before came true and his brother died because of his stubbornness, and one in which he risked his life for a group of radicals running on hope that would never come to fruition.

He sighed, “If she so much as twitches…”

Ellie began to choke and snarl, flailing her hands like one of the infected. It pressed all their buttons.

“Don’t,” Tess and Y/n said in synchronization.

Ellie stopped, nervously rubbing her neck, “Yeah, okay…”

“Okay?” Tess asked her partner.

Joel glanced between Y/n and Ellie, then sighed. “Okay.”

Without another word, Tess, Joel and Y/n began packing up their gear. Ellie followed their lead, spotting Joel’s rifle. “Can I have a gun?”

“Absolutely not,” Joel replied.

“No,” Tess said.

“Not happening,” Y/n finished.

“Okay, fine,” Ellie’s voice went higher, “I’ll have to throw a fuckin’ sandwich at them.”

Joel pushed the bookcase he’d used to barricade the door aside and peeked out the door. “It’s clear,” he reported.

Y/n walked ahead of Ellie and let the sun hit her. Boston had been cold lately and the warmth was a treat.

“Whoa,” Ellie whispered behind her, she’d never seen or felt the freedom being outside the Wall brought.

“Yeah, looks different in the daylight huh?” Tess said with an almost smile.

There was beauty interlaced with the destruction. Vines twined around crumbling buildings. Grass growing around deserted cars. People theorized the apocalypse would look like blood and destruction, but survival wasn’t so black and white.

“We should get movin’,” Joel said, breaking Y/n from the first near-pleasent thought she’d had all morning.

The four of them walked through the city in a row, Ellie tried to keep pace while also taking in her surroundings.

“It’s like a fucked up moon,” she observed, wandering to look at one of the explosion sites, “Is this where they bombed?”

“Yeah,” Tess answered, “They hit most of the big cities like this.”

Maybe Tess could talk about it with some degree of separation, but Y/n and Joel kept painfully silent. They’d seen the destruction and didn’t want to deal with Ellie’s marveling at it. As Tess stopped to explain history to the girl, they kept moving.

They all came to a pause when they saw their route blocked by the remnants of a building.

“So, the State House is across there,” Tess said, “It’s about a ten minute walk if you could go straight.”

“So?” Ellie questioned.

“Long way or short way?” Joel asked.

“I mean, it’s the long way or the “we’re fuckin’ dead” way,” Tess replied.

“Well, I vote long way, based on that limited amount of information,” Ellie spoke up, “Y/n?”

Y/n inhaled to give her opinion when Joel spoke up. “We should check it from the hotel first.”

“That hand’s not broken yet,” Y/n recalled, “I’d be happy to remedy that.”

“Okay,” Tess said, breaking up the fight and taking the first steps. For two people who had survived twenty years in an infectious wasteland using nothing but their survival skills, Y/n and Joel brought out the child in each other. Once upon a time, that had been a good thing. Now, each petty comment felt like throwing a plastic knife and expecting it to kill.

———————————

They’d been walking an hour when they got to the interstate. Tess and Ellie were at the front, while Y/n and Joel were moving slower and bringing up the rear.

The curse of knowing someone so well is that even if you despised them, there was still safety in being around them. Y/n still wanted to throttle Joel and he didn’t want to be in a hundred mile radius of her. But it was better to be in the company of an enemy you knew rather than one you didn’t. Hatred couldn’t one-up their history.

“What did Marlene mean when she said you weren’t ready?” Joel eventually inquired.

“None of your business,” Y/n grunted as she stepped over a stray tire.

“It is if you’re gonna be a liability,” Joel replied.

Y/n scoffed, “Marlene says a lot of things. She’s not always right.”

While it was true, Joel had been more than surprised that Y/n had raised her gun so effortlessly at him, he could read in between the lines. Y/n had never had good followthrough. The Cordyceps had forced them all to adapt, but he sincerely doubted she could take a necessary shot.

“Stop doing that,” Y/n snapped.

“Doing what?”

“Stop thinking you’ve got me figured out,” Y/n sneered, “You have no fucking idea who I am anymore.”

Joel simply scoffed, that was only a half truth.

“Okay, Cowboy Joe,” Y/n remarked, the nickname earning a glare, “I don’t remember you being so quick with the murder,” Y/n decided to hit a little harder, “Or the drugs. Or the smuggling.”

Joel threw his arm out in front of Y/n to stop her, “Would you have rather I let him shoot us?”

Y/n inched her face closer to Joel’s, “I’d rather you fucking forget that we ever knew each other, cause this,” she gestured between them, “Hasn’t mattered for twenty years. We do this, and then you can go back to dealing pills and shoveling shit,” she trembled with anger and lowered her voice, “And we will never, ever have to see each other again.”

Joel thinned the close proximity even more, the last time they’d been this close had been under much different circumstances. “It’s forgotten,” he growled.

“Good,” Y/n whispered, her lips pursed as she turned on her heel and marched off.

Denial was a hell of a thing, but forgetting what they’d meant to each other was going to take something much stronger…

“Everyone said the open city was crazy,” Ellie mused as Y/n and Joel caught up, “Like, swarms of Infected, running around everywhere.”

“Not exactly like that,” Joel commented.

“People who’ve never seen outside like to make up a lot of shit,” Y/n added.

“So there aren’t Super-Infected that explode fungus spores at you?” Ellie asked.

“Shit, I hope not,” Tess answered, at least she had a sense of humor about all this.

“Or ones with split-open heads,” Ellie continued to earn her education, “That see in the dark like bats?”

The adults fell silent, Tess and Joel shared a look before she glanced at Y/n. Between the three of them, they’d seen the full spectrum of the abilities Infected possessed.

Like a sick joke, a distant yell echoed through the open highway. There was nothing in sight and it was impossible to tell where it had come from.

“What was that?” Ellie asked.

Joel tensed up, “Let’s keep movin’.”

————————

Once they got to the hotel, they had to get in to the hotel.

Joel shoved open the once-automatic doors and they walked in. The place had flooded, the waters that filled the lobby a mossy green shade.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Ellie exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took it all in, “You ever stay in a place like this?

“Uh, no,” Tess answered, “A little out of our league.”

“Once,” Y/n followed, “School trip to Pennsylvania.”

“How do you even know what this is?” Joel asked.

“Have you ever heard of books?” Ellie shot back.

Joel stepped down into the water, letting the sass float past him.

Ellie suddenly became hesitant, “Wait, are we going in there?”

“Yeah, we gotta get to the stairwell on the other side,” Tess replied.

“Well, I, I don’t know how to swim,” Ellie said, nervous.

Joel watched, unimpressed, from the lobby steps. “Seriously?”

“Do you think we have pools in the QZ?” Ellie retorted.

“No, smart ass. I mean,” Joel threw a leg out and hopped off the last step. The water barely hit his thighs.

“I don’t know how I was supposed to know that,” Ellie mumbled, treading into the waters with Y/n behind her.

Joel and Y/n’s argument on the highway had left her quiet. She’d been forced to change to survive the new way of life, but the memories Joel’s mere presence brought up reminded her of who she used to be. How care free, how light, how enthusiastic she’d been…she’d taken a job at a hardware store just because she liked getting to talk to people. Her old self had just become another person to mourn.

She snapped back to reality, she refused to let Joel Miller, of all people, make her fee bad about who she was.

“Hey,” Tess spoke softly, “She’s a good kid.”

Y/n glanced up at Ellie, who was wading through the water to get to the check-in desk. She enthusiastically rang the bell, “Ding! Ding!”

“Yeah,” Y/n bit back a smile, “She is.”

“Yes, sir,” Ellie played, “I would like your finest suite please,” she deepened her voice, “Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to take your luggage? Yes, ma’am,” she took hold of the luggage cart, “Right away, ma’am.”

Joel, who had lost his sense of humor over a decade ago, was done with Ellie’s excitement. “You’re a weird kid,” he remarked.

“You’re a weird kid,” Ellie repeated, a body falling out from behind the cart, “Oh, fuck me!”

Joel and Y/n had their guns drawn and were rushing over. The two of them examined what turned out to be a skeleton. Joel nudged its skull sideways with his boot, like there was a chance it was still alive and kicking.

“Uh, sorry,” Ellie nervously smiled.

Joel extended a hand to pull her up, retracting it as soon as she was on her feet. He caught Y/n rolling her eyes at him as they walked off. At this point, she was convinced he was acting like an asshole purely because he could.

The group climbed the four flights of stairs, the adults huffing and puffing while Ellie stayed as unbothered as ever.

“Fuck, holy shit,” Tess panted.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Ellie remarked.

“You try climbing ten fuckin’ floors with our knees,” Tess replied, “See how you feel.”

Y/n and Tess drifted and fell back in line with their assigned partners. While Y/n was glad Ellie and Tess had found camaraderie, she was selfish enough to not want it to come at the expense of being stuck with Joel.

They came up on what should have been their walkway, but it was blocked by a barricade of bricks and cinderblock. Joel and Tess tried the doors on each side of them, no luck.

“All right,” Tess calculated their options, “Well, I mean, maybe I could climb up there. Work my way around and open it from the outside?”

Ellie stepped forward, “Uh, no, well, I’m the smallest, so it’d be easier for me to get through.”

Y/n was quick to grab Ellie’s backpack handle, “Yeah, that’s not happening. We know what’s out there, you don’t.”

That caught Joel’s attention. When had she been sneaking out of the QZ?

“Can you give me a hand?” Tess asked of her partner.

Y/n pulled Ellie back before Joel could move her out of the way. He helped Tess up and stepped back. “You good up there?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a mess,” Tess reported, “So I’m gonna need a few minutes.”

It turned out, removing Tess was like removing a safety barrier for them all. Joel and Y/n sat on opposite sides of the hall, trying to keep as much space between them as possible. Ellie pulled out her pocketknife and started casually flipping it.

“Nice knife,” Joel said, trying to be cordial. Y/n was getting whiplash from his mood swings. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Ellie didn’t flinch in her retort, “The circus.”

Joel sighed, looking away from both of them. This was him trying to be somewhat friendly, though it still came off as being put out.

Ellie, on the other hand, was better at small talk. “Where are you from?”

“Texas,” Joel answered.

“Y/n said she knew your brother,” Ellie replied, “So you all lived in Texas?”

Y/n took a breath, Joel watched her. “That’s right,” he said.

“What about Tess?” Ellie asked.

“Detroit,” Joel answered, “It’s in Michigan.”

“I go to school,” Ellie shot back quickly, “I know where Detroit is.”

Silence fell again over the threesome, eagerly awaiting Tess’ return.

“So,” Ellie started talking again, “Are you two, like, a-“

“Pass,” Joel cut her off.

“How’d you end up in Boston?” Ellie pushed, it was becoming a game for her.

“Pass,” Joel answered, “No more questions about me.”

Clever as ever, Ellie found a work around. “Okay,” she turned to Y/n, “Were you and him a-“

“Nope,” Y/n said quickly, it was more a denial of an answer than an answer itself.

Ellie sighed, trying to think up something else. “How long do Infected live?”

Joel mockingly shook his head, “Oh, I thought you went to school.”

“It’s a really shitty one,” Ellie replied.

Joel smirked, he could appreciate the girl’s wit under different circumstances. It rivaled his own. “Well, some last about a month or two,” he answered, “But there’s other’s been walkin’ around ‘bout twenty years.”

“Ever kill one?” Ellie asked, still fiddling with her knife.

“Yeah, I killed lots of ‘em.”

Y/n stiffened, hoping if she stood still, the conversation would move right past her.

“Was it hard?” Ellie continued, “Like, knowing they were people once?”

It took all the strength Y/n still possessed to not let her emotions show. To not let the nightmares take her over. She didn’t have time for them.

No matter how hard they argued that they were strangers, Joel could sense her discomfort. Her experiences with Infected were one more thing he didn’t know about her now.

“Sometimes,” he said, watching Y/n as her eyes stayed closed in concentration.

“What about that guy last night?” Ellie kept going.

A well-timed thump excused Joel from answering, him and Y/n jumped to attention.

“You can put the gun down, Joel,” Tess grunted through the wall, straining to open one of the locked doors.

“Where to?” Y/n asked.

Tess’ grim expression led them out to the hotel’s balcony, she pulled back the vinyl curtain and let them walk out onto the terrace. Ellie gained traction on the ledge’s decor and climbed to the edge. Joel and Y/n ended up on each other’s side.

Y/n’s stomach dropped at the sight beneath her.

Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of Infected lay fifty feet below them in a heap. Their sickening shrieks bounced off the buildings as they crawled and thrashed aimlessly.

“There’s so many,” Ellie gasped.

“The last time we were here,” Tess said, “They were still deep inside the buildings. Then I guess enough people came through looking for the QZ, they went inside seeking shelter…and that’s how they get more and more of the city, bit by bit, every year.”

Y/n watched through dead eyes as the horde began to move as one. She hadn’t seen this many in a long time, long enough for the sight to feel fresh. She stopped listening to Ellie and Tess’s conversation and focused on her breathing to battle the nausea, in through the nose, out through the mouth…

Joel saw it all, and he knew better than to ask. Marlene was right; she wasn’t able to handle the journey on her own.

“So we’re not going that way,” were the first words Y/n could hear again.

“No,” Tess answered Ellie.

“What do we do then?” Ellie asked, her eyes widened with fear, “Short way?”

Tess and Joel shared a look, his hands fidgeted as he thought through their route. “Museum.”

—————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90

Joel Miller Taglist: @xsnak-3x @xmoonknightlyx @simplybarnes @stolenxkissess @mandoshoney @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @deanlovescassie @paintlavillered

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #twenty years later

[riality-check]

steddie prompt! steve struggling with his dyslexia and feeling like he isnt smart enough compared to eddie and the kids?

In an effort to, in his words, "convert him to the light side," Dustin had given Steve an armful of what he deemed "essential reading" and sent him away to "learn the ways of the Force."

If Steve didn't like Star Wars so much, he would've made fun of that little nerd.

But, honestly, he's a little grateful. With no more monsters to slay and it being way too cold to venture outside of his house to go swim or play basketball, the books fill up a good chunk of time.

Too good a chunk.

It's taking him way too long to get through them.

He didn't try The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings because those looked way too intimidating. Dune's first twenty pages were boring as shit, and Ender's Game was a lot, to say the least.

So, he's been making his way through A Wrinkle in Time.

Slowly making his way through it. Too slowly.

Steve has been quickly reminded about why he hasn't voluntarily read a book since elementary school, and why he stopped reading the required books in high school.

It's hard. Reading sucks.

He doesn't know how other people get through it when the letters don't make sense and seem to switch, like how "b" and "d" or "f" and "t" look way too similar.

"Whatcha readin'?"

Steve looks up from the book - god, it's probably taken him at least an hour to get through chapter one, hasn't it - to find Eddie in the doorway of the living room.

Guess he's taking advantage of the spare key, Steve thinks to himself, but he's not mad about it, not even a little.

"A Wrinkle in Time," he says, holding up the book so Eddie can see the cover.

Eddie lights up. "Oh, I love that book! I think the last time I read it, I was in, shit, maybe fourth grade?"

Steve knows he didn't mean it, but damn. That hurt a little bit.

He can't even get through a book Eddie read when he was in elementary school?

"What part are you at?"

Steve tucks the book against his chest so Eddie doesn't see how the bookmark isn't very far in. "Not very. Just met Mrs. Which. It's kind of hard to get through-"

"Oh, yeah," Eddie nods. "It took me, like, three days."

"- because the letters keep switching."

Eddie frowns. "What?"

"The letters," Steve says. "Like, they're moving a lot for this book. I don't know why."

Eddie looks at him blankly.

Oh.

"Does that... not happen for you?"

Eddie shakes his head.

Steve huffs out a laugh because of course this would be a uniquely him problem. Of course people like Dustin and Eddie and the rest of the party would like reading, because of course they would be able to do it right.

"I guess I really am stupid."

"It took me three tries to get through my senior year," Eddie says seriously, putting his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Does that make me stupid?"

"No," Steve says instantly. It doesn't. Just because Eddie wasn't good at school doesn't mean he isn't smart. He's a brilliant storyteller and musician, and both of those take brains.

Steve doesn't have a hobby that takes brains because he just... doesn't have enough. Plain and simple. That's how it's always been.

"Ok, then you're not stupid for having trouble reading," Eddie says like it's the simplest thing in the world.

"But-"

"But what? We're all gonna struggle with something. For me, it was school. For you, it's reading. It's why we've got other people to fill in the gaps."

Other people don't fill in the gaps. Steve does. Steve stretches himself thin, makes sure he's everywhere at once to make sure the kids and Robin and Eddie are okay.

No one else can do that because. Well.

Steve has to be irreplaceable somehow. He's gotta be necessary somehow.

This is the only way they need him.

"Get out of your head, martyr," Eddie says, reading his mind. He's not as good at that as Robin is - Steve doesn't think anyone will ever be able to read him like Robin can - but he can still do it.

It's weird, just like Eddie is. Steve's learned to love weird over the past few years.

"Do you want me to stick around?" Eddie asks.

"You can stay, if you want," Steve says.

"I always want to stay with you," Eddie says, and damn if that sentence doesn't take Steve's breath away. "But I figured I'd ask."

So, Eddie lays his head in Steve's lap as Steve dives back into a world of tesseracts and space and time, and when Steve tilts the book down and points to a word that just isn't making sense, Eddie reads it for him.

He doesn't comment on how often he hears the pages flip.

#sorry this sat in my inbox for SO LONG #but i hope you like it anon!! #this was really fun!! #anon #asked and answered #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #stranger things ficlet #stranger things #tw internalized ableism #ria writes #dyslexic steve harrington

[412foryou]

The last one.

“bless your heart, make you part of my life forever. and always.”

₊˚ pairing– sunwoo x gn!reader

₊˚ genre– hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers.

₊˚ overview– sunwoo comforts you after an unpleasant event. you go for a drive in his car, in the sunset. a confession at the beach. kissing.

₊˚ word count– 3k

₊˚ warnings– depictions of feelings of anxiety/social anxiety and loneliness; self-conscious, depressive thoughts.

₊˚ notes– I'm finally giving this a try! I'm super excited to write on here!! the beautiful pictures sunwoo posted on ig made me think of the idea for this fic. I got inspired to write it while I was feeling really down myself, and even though it's pretty specific, I felt like I could share it here, in hopes that this might comfort anyone else who needs it. it took me a week to finish this, but I enjoyed every moment of it. note that this is my first fic in a while, so please be kind. I'd love to hear what you think about it!! and btw! stuff in italics is for the reader's thoughts.

like & reblog if you enjoy please <3

♪₊˚ song— tejano blue by cigarettes after s*x.

it's so loud.

you can hear the noisy chatter of the people in your group, bantering and laughing out loud.

what are they laughing so much about? are they laughing about.. about me?

you sink in your seat, hands in pockets, body slumping even more than before, aiming to merge with the chair. your eyebrows set low, unknowingly glaring at the group.

"hey, you okay?" one of them calls out, making you perk up, but you know it isn't a genuine question, so you lower your eyes, nodding briefly.

a scoff. "it's no use talking to them, they're not gonna answer you." another voice retorts, clearly tipsy. you try to pay it no mind.

it was fine before, they didn't care much. why now?

but before you can come up with an answer to your own question, your thoughts are interrupted with laughter, even louder this time.

they're laughing at me.

the discomfort that gradually began setting in since you first stepped into the building, was about to overflow. so you go to stand up and leave, while your mind imagines the remarks they could be throwing at you.

"leaving already? so boring."

"they're so weird"

"wow, that's one scary kid."

"not worth our time."

"yeah, you better leave."

real or not, it didn't make much of a difference for you. you still cared, it still bothered you, no matter how miserable that might sound. the non-spoken words sharp and piercing, biting at your skin. you brushed both of your arms up and down roughly to rid your mind of the thoughts.

it burns.

so much for trying to socialize.

you awkwardly squeeze through people crowded in groups outside, keeping your eyes on the ground, paying no mind to where you're headed.

you just need to get away from there, as far as possible, and quickly. you don't even check your surroundings, as your legs seem to be taking charge right now, shaking but not able to stop moving ahead.

I'm so embarrassing. I'm just so...

you're continuously reminded of what happened at the bar, the image seemingly stuck in your brain. the mocking laughter replaying over and over, taunting you, leaving no choice but to think about it.

why can't I just do it the way they can, what is wrong with me?

they all seem to like it.

why doesn't it come naturally to me too?

why do I have to force myself?

you walk with your head down, trying to hold in your tears. you knew this wouldn't end well, you didn't expect anything from it, and yet,

I'm pathetic. I'm disgusting. and I'm miserable.

I knew this wasn't a good idea, why did I even..

they all probably hate me now. the way I am.

I feel so sorry for myself-

there's a halt in you thoughts, as in your steps. you notice you've bumped shoulders with someone.

wait- what am I doing, where am I?

you frantically take a look around, only to find yourself in an unfamiliar place, yet again, the anxiety sets in. you have no way of telling where you are.

the sun will set soon, too. shit-

you walk around in hopes to find a way to get back to your place, maybe think of something. but, you remember-

sunwoo has my location! yes. he'll help.

you mentally thank yourself for thinking of that, taking your phone out to text your friend.

"changed my mind, come get me."

the reply is almost instantaneous, as it always is whenever it's sunwoo you're texting.

"be there in 10. stay where you are."

a sigh of relief escapes through your lips, your shoulders feeling lighter, knowing you'll be on your way soon. but you still need to-

I have to go back to that place.

reluctantly making your way back to the bar, you linger nearby, just so sunwoo can find you, but not close enough to be spotted by anyone else. pulling your hood up, you put your hands in your pockets, shifting back and forth, unable to stay still.

it's fine. it's alright now. it's over. he'll be here soon. I'm okay..

letting a big puff of air out, you try to steady your stance, your breath shaky. you lean your elbows on the railing in front of some shop, as the light from inside gives you shelter from the darkness of the street.

I wish I didn't have to be like this.

you tuck your head into your arms.

this always happens, I don't know why I thought this time would be different.

I should've never come.

I'm shameful.

I'm ashamed!

regardless of your efforts to hold back, you still feel a single stubborn tear touch your skin, staining your sleeves. a sniffle. you can't be crying like this outside,

but I've already embarrassed myself anyway.

another involuntary sniffle, and a tear on the other side of your face. it's gotten colder. a warm hand on your shoulder.

frightened, your head springs up, your eyes frantically searching for the person the hand belongs to. your body slackens in his grip. thank god. the hand on your shoulder moves to stroke your back.

"I'm here." a gentle smile.

you feel the tear streaks drying on the sides of your face in the light breeze as you look back at sunwoo. you're so drained that you feel as though you've lost the ability to form words, so you can only hope your eyes are able to relay your thoughts to him.

I'm exhausted.

sunwoo's gaze shifts between your eyes trying to gauge anything that hints at your mood. his other hand comes up to wipe your cheekbone. and it stays there, holding the side of your face.

a quiet gasp. "you're freezing! I should've been quicker. I'm sorry." he retracts his hand on your cheek. the one still on your back guides you in a certain direction, your body completely relaxed and yielding in his hold. you're safe now, sunwoo knows what to do. you know to trust him.

before you know it you feel warm again. even though the roof of sunwoo's cabriolet is folded, even though it's even colder now, even though the breeze blows rougher. the warmth seems to be spreading from within, a feeling, your heartbeat slow and steady. sunwoo buckles your seatbelt for you and closes the door.

don't go.

he rounds the vehicle to get in his seat on the other side. you knew he wouldn't leave, but

still..

"I'll pull the roof back up in a minute." he has taken off his jacket and it's now spread over your lap. "I didn't know it'd get this cold, should've thought to fix it before coming to get you." he halts his movements when he feels your hand on his arm.

I want to feel the breeze.

"you want me to leave it?" a mild nod from you, eyes downturned. he gazes back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "okay... but put the jacket on properly, the breeze is strong."

when you don't make a move to comply as he instructed, he leans over and carefully adjusts the jacket so that it covers more of you, giving you a sliver of a smile.

soon enough the blow of the wind picks up as sunwoo starts driving. you lean your head back, resting it on the headrest. the bitter gusts of wind crash into your face, turning it red, keeping you awake. you can feel the frigid air burning your skin, soothing your body. your eyelids drop to focus on the feeling as you take in a deep breath.

that feels nice.

I can breathe again.

you open your eyes and look out the window. the city lights are harsh and bright, dazzling you, making you squint, your view of them softening.

"are you cold?" asks sunwoo in a low voice. yes. but it feels good. slowly tilting your head, you face him, beyond him a glimpse of the beach.

your gaze fixes on sunwoo, eyes listless. only now taking notice of his appearance. laid back in the seat, his arm rests on the door, the other one gripping the wheel. arms bare, your eyes linger. soon enough they shift to look at his dark hair flying around with the wind. thick eyebrows set firm in concentration. eyes half lidded, but alert. you can still see the restlessness in them. he keeps stealing sideway glances at you, eager to grasp your thoughts. you pay it no mind, because..

he's so beautiful.

and most of all, his skin is glowing golden even in the dark, now illuminated scarlet as you stop at a red light. he turns his head toward you "hmm?"

ah,

you forgot he'd asked a question. that snaps you out of your dazed state effectively. blinking rapidly to rid your eyes of the haze.

shit, I got distracted.

clearing your throat, your voice raspy, "sorry. no, I'm not cold." you fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie. you hear him sigh softly. he's facing ahead again, the light green. "you.. okay?" you can hear the concern in his voice and your heart swells.

"yeah, I'm good." averting your eyes from his face, feeling sheepish.

your response doesn't seem to ease his worry, "you can talk to me, you know I don't mind. I'll listen." his words so gentle, you barely hear them.

he's so kind to me.

your eyes shift to your lap. sunwoo's jacket has slid down, and you can see your fingers picking at the skin on your hands.

why... does he treat me like this?

when other people seem to have given up on me completely?

he's too kind.

"I..." you try to form an intelligible sentence. an exhale- "I'm alright. I'm just fine.. if you're with me." you try not to look over at him. "everything sort of.. feels okay when you're here." you breathe deep, in and out. voice trembling. "I just want you to know that.. I'm thankful- for everything you do for me. even though, I don't get why you do this... I know I can be... difficult. to understand, and to talk to most of the time. I guess I'm grateful that you try. and that you've kept me with you despite.. that, I don't give anything in return. and I'm sorry." you trail off, tears welling in your eyes. "anyway, just thank you." you finish with a sniffle.

sunwoo is quiet. you're too afraid to meet eyes with him, so you keep your head down.

why isn't he saying anything?

did I make him uncomfortable?

you wipe your nose with a sleeve. another awkward sniff.

should've just stayed quiet. it wasn't even that serious..

I'm sorry for being like this.

however, before your mind can make your grey thoughts into a whirlpool and suck you in, you see colors seep into the darkness. you look up in surprise and find the source. the now setting sun seems to be casting the purple-pink light on the waves just before you.

"it has never once felt like that to me." you turn your head, the beams reaching his face too, making you stare. he's looking ahead.

"our.. friendship. I have never thought of it as a chore, a challenge- maybe. because we're so different from each other, there's a lot to consider. but.." he shakes his head, lowering it, "oh my god- I always thought of this-" he gestures between the two of you. "as something precious, something I needed to protect. if anything, it felt like it was you keeping me close." he brings his head back up but still doesn't glance your way.

...what?

eyebrows furrowed in deep confusion you question, "you.. but, why? there's nothing I have to offer, I mean.." he brings his head back up, concern evident in the way he looks at you. you avoid his eyes, bashful. "you're.. you're so ordinary. you know.. you can befriend anyone, do anything you want.. you're likable, and I don't know.. I'm- I'm just me. and I can barely take being alive, at least..." you sigh shakily, it's so hard to talk about this. "but that was before, now I don't think it's all that bad. and it's all because you came into my life." you didn't even notice you'd started to cry, until you felt sunwoo's thumb on your face, wiping the tears away. you let him, eyes glazed over.

he makes this even more difficult than it already is.

he retracts his hand. you shift your eyes once more. "you know, whenever I think of myself, I'm always out of place. nothing comes naturally to me, like it does with others, and it- it's so frustrating... it's lonely. and it makes me hate myself. but.. weirdly enough, all it took for me to feel at least a little bit normal, was one person who understood me. who listened to me. you're my link to the rest of the world, the only thing that keeps my feet on the ground. I- I really don't know where I would be right now, if you weren't by my side." you feel more silent tears escape.

my whole existence is disgraceful.

but I don't regret this, he has to know how much he means to me.

"I know it's selfish as well, that I wish for you to stay here forever. but.. truly, you're the sole good thing in my life." you've never felt so exposed and vulnerable before, putting your heart on display, right in front of sunwoo.

"it isn't, selfish- I mean." he catches you off guard, so you turn to look. you notice colors dimming on his face, the sunset imminent. he's got a warm expression on his face, one full of tenderness. "well if it is, then I must be selfish too. because I can never imagine my life without you in it either." he leans over, resting his elbow on the armrest in-between your seats. "it honestly breaks my heart that you think that way about yourself, I wish I could take those feelings away from you.." he reaches over with his other hand and takes your hood off. "I don't know how much I'll be able to help, but I can promise that I'll always try to. I'll be here, whenever you need me." his gaze shifts to the top of your head briefly, patting your hair into place. "and I need you with me, just as much. so, don't ever think like that, okay?"

you should've known better than to doubt sunwoo's feelings. he's the one that gets you, even if no words are exchanged. of course, he'd understand. he always has. but.. it's hard to focus on that, when he's just

he's so close.

your heartbeat picks up, alerting you of the proximity between your faces. you can feel the heat of sunwoo's breath on your ice cold face, as you try to keep your own even. try to keep your mind clear, aware.

oh god...

he eyes your lips for a moment, and you can hear it in his slightly quickened breaths-

he feels it too.

your eyes lock, and you feel like you're going insane. with the way he's looking at you, gaze filled with longing. with the way his hand's still resting in your hair. with the way your heart just can't seem to calm. with the way your faces have frozen into place, neither moving an inch to break the distance. it all makes you want to..

I desperately want to kiss him.

"I want to kiss you." you're not even sure who asked the question, because it was whispered, and because you're too tired to make sense of anything. "...can I?" oh, it was him, after all. his voice so soft, but breathy- rushed with desire.

please.

instead of answering, you pull him in by the back of his head, rushing to connect your lips. your eagerness visible in the intensity of the kiss. this stuns sunwoo for a brief second, but he meets your lips and steadies the kiss, slowing you down.

..finally.

he holds you by the jaw. your lips moving in sync, almost naturally. you pull at his hair. you can feel him smiling into the kiss.

he's driving me crazy.

the kiss can't last forever, you have to pull away to take a breath. you can feel the dissatisfaction in the way sunwoo whines lowly. it pleases you, to know he yearns for you the same way you do, for him.

I can't believe we just kissed.

your faces remain close still, seemingly unable to pull apart, now that you've connected. the sound of your heavy breaths and the waves crashing, the only thing to be heard. you wait for each other to regain oxygen back in your lungs. sunwoo's cheeks are flushed cherry, but you're sure yours are worse.

I can't believe I just kissed sunwoo.

he holds your cheek in his palm now, thumb stroking the blush on it, gaze filled with adoration.

is this really happening?

sunwoo's half lidded eyes are relentless in raking over your face, noticing every detail, staring. but it isn't uncomfortable, you don't feel self-conscious. you feel seen.

"you're beautiful." he confesses with care.

he likes me.

he finds me beautiful.

his bold words don't make you question their genuineness. you feel confident in the way you look from his point of view, you know you're beautiful, because he sees it.

tightening your grip on his hair, pulling a strand, you look at his swollen mouth "you have no idea, how long I've waited for this." he ducks his head, smiling shyly. ...he's so.. cute.

bringing both of your hands together, you cup his flushed face.

pretty.

you take a moment to study him. he lets you. after a few moments of silence, he whispers "me too. I've longed for you.. without even realizing." he's a bit hesitant in his words, avoiding your gaze. you didn't know shy sunwoo would come as a punch to your heart, making your affection for him grow.

so adorable.

smiling softly, you lean in to taste his lips once more. this time you make sure to go slow and sunwoo melts into the kiss. he moves his lips according to your pace, kissing you back tenderly. you feel content in his presence, his lips touching yours, comfortable and familiar.

I feel so... warm.

you gently lift your lips from his, but stay near, foreheads joined together. you can feel the breeze biting. your mind screams at you, begging, to connect your mouth back with his again. sunwoo's low breaths grazing your lips not helping the case.

I miss his touch.

the side of his mouth upturned, as if reading your mind, sunwoo briefly brushes your lips with his plump ones.

I need more.

but brief isn't enough. you yearn for him, his touch in the way that wouldn't be sated with a momentary peck. a noise of frustration leaves your lips, and he catches on, finding your impatience cute.

a chuckle. his lips back on yours.

perfect.

#the boyz #kim sunwoo #kim sunwoo fluff #the boyz fic #the boyz scenarios #the boyz reactions #the boyz x reader #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fluff #the boyz fluff #sunwoo fic #412foryou #412foryou_fics