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ournosleep69-blog · 10 months

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Joel Teaches You a Lesson

Pairings: Joel Miller x fem!reader (use of she/her, feminine terms)

Content & Warnings: Smut. 18+. Established relationship, age gap (user is Ellie’s age; 19), humiliation/degradation, unprotected PinV, masochism, sadism, slight mentions of gore and death (y/n kills a clicker), orgasm denial, edging, marking, petnames, sweet aftercare, fluff, dacryphilia, glossaphilia, dom!joel, protective joel, creampie, yelling, ruined orgasm.

Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: Y/n does something reckless, Joel finds out. Punishment awaits.

A/N: I didn’t write this one with zero sleep, so I think this one’s a little bit better than the last. Feel free to leave suggestions. Happy reading!! <3

In the freezing embrace of a snowy morning in Jackson, you awaken due to the shining sun practically spearing through your sheer curtains. Rising with the first light, you meticulously prepared for the day ahead, indulging in a refreshing shower and savoring a quick breakfast. Embarking on patrol alongside Ellie, her animated account of a vintage action film captivated her, shielding her from noticing the sight of Joel's green flannel gracing your form beneath the soft layers of your coat. You were grateful she hadn’t noticed, and you’d be lying if you said the idea of Ellie finding out what her best friend and father-like figure were doing together behind closed doors didn’t excite you a tiny bit.

“Dude, so there’s, like, ten guys and they’re just..fucking going at it an- are you listening?” With a deep furrow in her brow, Ellie playfully snapped her fingers in front of your face, demanding your attention. The two of you traversed the well-worn creek trails, the weight of the heavy hunting rifles in your hands serving as a constant reminder of the purpose of your walk this morning.

“Sorry- what?” You ask, offering a sheepish smile in apology.

Ellie huffs and tucks a piece of auburn hair behind her right ear and then nudges your side with her elbow. “You’ve been spacey all morning. What gives?”

You can’t answer, though, because the sound of a twig snapping in the distance calls your attention. You’re both immediately on high alert, holding the forestock of your rifles tightly. The slow heartbeat in your chest is steadily increasing, and the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.

“The fuck was that?” You ask in a slightly panicked voice, already starting to push past the tree branches and bushes to walk in the direction of the sound. It’s a dumb idea, running into something like that. And you knew that.

Behind you, Ellie’s lush green eyes widen with concern and worry. Her canvas sneakers pound on the iced-over crunchy snow as she races over to you. No way in hell she’d let you fight off an infected on your own…if it even was an infected.

“Dude, what the hell are you-”

In a swift motion, you dismissively wave your hand, urging the girl to maintain absolute silence. The sudden snap of yet another twig sets your instincts into high gear, propelling you to swiftly track the sound's origin. With determination, you navigate through the tangle of undergrowth, pushing your way through a compact bush, until your eyes behold the sight that awaited you.

A clicker.

Its vibrant orange and green, jagged protective plates make for a haunting sight which is only enhanced by the reflection of the melted snowflakes running down them. The clicking rumbling deep from its chest grows louder and louder as it senses a nearby human. You.

You’re scared. But at the same time you know this could be the chance you’ve been waiting for. A chance to prove yourself to Ellie. She’s always the one to take out infected on these patrols, the one to protect you. So for once, you decide to be the hero.

This is stupid. Am I really about to do this?

Yes.

Ellie can’t even try to stop or persuade you from doing what you’re about to do. Calling out to you will only serve as a death sentence, and using the rifle when you haven’t checked the rest of the trail may lead to unwanted attention.

You slowly reach for something tucked in the back pocket of your jeans - an old pocket knife - and grip the tang tightly in your left hand. Your fingers brush over the spine of the small blade, just a small hint of just how sharp the damn thing is.

Your footsteps are quiet when you sneak behind the clicker. Adrenaline is pounding through your veins. For a second you think of stopping and just shooting it, but you still want to play the hero. Its screech echoes about the clearing in the woods, only met with the heavy and chilling winter wind that fills your ears.

It’s all almost under control. You almost bury the blade deep within the clicker’s neck. It almost bleeds out and falls to the floor writhing in agony. But it doesn’t.

It hears you. It hears you and it turns around, throwing out its arms and clicking directly in your face. The smell of fungus and rotting flesh swirls in your nostrils, but it’s one you’re all too familiar with in the world you’ve grown up in. Your screams are cut off when it suddenly jumps and tackles you to the ground, rolling you both around in the snow. The tight hold you have on the knife slips and it clatters to the snow-filled ground.

“Shit!” Yells Ellie, rushing forward to try and help you out of this dangerous situation.

You’re too busy quite literally fighting for your life, kicking and squirming to get out from under the infected being above you. Its yellowed teeth chomp and snap at your face with hungry fervor, looking for an opening to pry the skin off of your face.

Right before its teeth do end up making contact, Ellie stabs the monster’s temple with the sharp edge of her switchblade. The clicker’s body begins to twitch while pained, strangled clicks rumble from deep within. It collapses on top of you, its body pressing heavily into your own, essentially pinning you down into the cold snow.

With one sharp kick from Ellie, the body rolls off and you’re free to stand up. You don’t even have to glance for more than a second to see the pissed off expression on her freckled face.

“Dude, what the fuck was that?!” She punches your arm a bit too hard while you’re brushing your jeans and coat off from the dirt, snow, and blood. It causes you to teeter for a moment but you quickly regain your balance.

“Ow- jeez, El. I was just trying to take it out,” you sigh heavily, bending down to grab your rifle and pocket knife; both of which you dropped during your battle. The blade folds in and you tuck it back into your pocket all while still catching your breath and ignoring the pain radiating in your left bicep.

“That was some seriously stupid bravery.”

“Yeah..that- uh. Sorry. Don’t let anyone know about that, alright? That’s suuuper fucking embarrassing.” You try to laugh and play it off as a joke but you can’t disguise the hint of seriousness in your tone. If Joel found out about how reckless you’d been...you shudder even thinking about it. It’s like you can already hear him telling you to ‘bend over’ in your mind, and it’s enough to make your cheeks flush. Thankfully it’s covered up as just from being out in the cold.

“I won’t, I won’t,” she snorts, seemingly less mad and now more amused at your dumbass-ery, “that was pretty dumb though. You can’t even deny it.”

You both laugh, but yours sounds a bit forced because of the slight nervousness growing in your stomach. If Ellie told Joel how you’d tried to fight a Clicker in an act of foolish confidence, you’re thoroughly fucked. Figuratively and literally.

“Now can we please get out of here?” Asks Ellie while she leans forward to dust some fallen snowflakes from your shoulder. You only nod in response…then you’re both on your way to complete the trails.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

Around fifteen minutes have passed since you and Ellie got back in Jackson after patrol. Your cold hands are being warmed by cozy licks of flame from the fireplace in front of you while Ellie bullshits in the kitchen with Joel.

She didn’t think to question why you wanted to go to Joel’s as soon as you were in the confines of the settlement, and it‘s not suspicious since she’s close with him as well. If only Ellie knew what you two did together…what you two were together.

But all those thoughts are gone the moment a gruff, baritone voice whispers into your ear, the warm breath caressing the shell of your ear and sending jolts of electricity down your spine,

“I missed ya’, sweet girl. That mine?” Joel murmurs, his larger and calloused hand slipping down until it’s resting on your side, tickling you over your shirt in its wake. You’re no longer wearing the coat, just his flannel from this morning. It still smells like him.

Your cheeks fill with a familiar heat as you peer up at him through your lashes, giving a childlike giggle at being caught by your boyfriend.

“Yeah..I hope you don’t mind. It was just there and-”

The fingers dip down and brush against your hip bone in seductive strokes. He knows what he’s doing. “No. ‘S all right, ‘s cuter on you anyway.”

You shift in your seat on the worn leather armchair, trying to ignore the pooling feeling from between your thighs. It’s utterly insane what this man’s voice can do to you alone.

“Sooo..” Ellie’s voice rang out from the kitchen, her back turned to both of you, “did you guys wanna watch Return of The Living Dead? We could use a shitty zombie movie…especially with the patrol we had..?”

Ellie whips her head over to you as she giggles, completely oblivious to what Joel had just been doing to your body a few short seconds ago. His hand quickly retreats when he hears her words.

“Whaddya mean, kiddo? Somethin’ happen?” Asks Joel innocently, cocking his head to the side like that of a curious puppy’s. He’s even got the pretty, brown doe eyes to go with it, and they never fail to make you swoon and your heart to race just a little bit quicker than usual.

“Oh, nothing-” You start to chime in to save yourself from any anger on Joel’s side, but he’s quick to raise a finger to silence you.

“Nah, what happened out there, Ellie?”

“She tried to fight off a clicker with a knife. Like an idiot.” Ellie laughs softly, clearly finding nothing but humor in the situation. You want to tell her to shut up, but it’d only be met by her asking why you were so nervous, then that would lead to you getting all weird and suspicious. It’s just not worth it, you decide.

Then you can see it. The gears turning in Joel’s head. The way his posture straightens and his sharp jaw ticks. The slight flare of his nostrils. Shit. Shit. Shit. Joel slowly turns to face you, giving you a warning look.

“Ellie, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Joel abruptly asks in a cold voice, his gaze never leaving your own. Your heart’s already racing.

A confused expression falls over Ellie’s face, and she opens her mouth to protest.

“Dina ‘prolly needs ya’ or somethin’. Go see.” He mutters.

“No way! You look pissed. I wanna see-”

“Now.”

It’s the dumbest, worst thought of excuse to get Ellie out of his home, but she listens anyway. With one last weary look towards you, she shrugs and heads for the door. Her auburn hair is the last thing you see before the front door shuts tight and you’re left alone with Joel.

“What was she talkin’ about? Tell me right now or so help me god..” Joel warns, kneeling down on the carpeted floor so he’s at your same level as you sit in the chair.

“It was nothing-” You swallow thickly, feeling anxious yet turned on under his watchful, angry chestnut eyes. Your leg begins to bounce nervously up and down against the floor.

“It was not no god damn nothin’! What the hell happened out there?”

“She already said.”

“I wanna hear it from you, girl.”

Joel’s face leans forward, so close you can see the scar on his nose. Without even blinking, his right hand climbs onto your thigh and slides up your stomach, over the soft globes of your breasts, and stops when it’s finally wrapped around your throat in a firm hold.

“I t..I tried to- to kill a clicker. I thought I could sneak up on it!” You’re quick to protest, shaking your head and vehemently defending yourself as much as your trembling voice will allow.

His fingers tighten around the sides of your neck ever-so-slighty; it’s not cutting off your air flow, but it’s just on the precipice.

“And tell me why you were tryin’ to be so fuckin’ brave, princess.” The southern accent mixed with the acidity of the anger dripping from his tongue only serves to excite and scare you more. This has happened so many times, but it never gets old. And you don’t think it ever could.

“I wasn’t- wasn’t thinking..’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t fuckin’ cut it. What if you were bitten? Huh? The fuck would I do then? You never fuckin’ learn, do you, you goddamned idiot.”

Those words were harsh coming from Joel, a lot harsher than usual. You get the sense you’ve majorly fucked up this time, and it won’t go unpunished, that’s for sure. The sudden pit in your belly urges a lump to form in your throat.

With his hand still grasping you, he growls out the words, “Stupid fuckin’ little girl. Think she can do what she wants.”

“I’m sorry..” You whisper, biting the inside of your cheek harshly so the waterworks don’t surface and make an appearance.

“What did I just tell you, girl? You know better and yet you’re out here actin’ like you’re goddamned invincible. The hell is wrong with ya’?”

The fingers wrapped around the base of your neck shake you lightly as if he’s trying to knock some sense into your head. You can’t hold it in anymore, and that’s when the tears start to build behind your half-opened lids. They slowly creep down your cheeks as you fight a tiny sob.

“Aw, darlin’...did I make ya’ cry?” Joel’s expression softens, but his jaw is still clenched tightly - as are his fingers. He asks this in a condescending tone, knowing damn well he’s the one making you cry and feel small.

“Pumpkin, ‘s alright. I like when those tears run down your pretty little face.” The hand leaves your throat and brings his index finger to brush against one of your tears. You watch on in awe when he brings the finger to his mouth and laps it away with his thick tongue. Even upset, you feel your pussy clench around nothing inside of your jeans from the erotic sight.

“Now let’s go. I ain’t lettin’ you off on a warning this time. You knew the damn rules.”

The Texan stands up and strides in the direction of the bedroom down the hall. Your stomach drops, but you shakily rise from the chair and follow behind him. You feel so small under his touch, his gaze, his height, his everything.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

The room looks much cleaner than how you and Joel left it last night. The bed is made, his clothes no longer litter the floor, and there’s no longer a pillow tucked behind the headboard.

“You know the drill,” Joel prompts once you’ve shut the door and turned to face his giant form, “clothes off. Slowly, I wanna see ya’ take your time.” He commands.

It’s no use trying to get out of this, out of whatever he has planned for you. His jaw is still set and there’s still that cold glare in his stare. Joel wants you to undress.

Your hands slowly slide down your body and grip the hem of his flannel, pulling it up and over in a languid manner; even though this is going to be hell for you, you can’t help but tease him nonetheless. The shirt drops to the floor, revealing your basic yet sexy white bra.

The jeans are next. You notice Joel’s stare, his eyes glazed over in a look of lust and anger. He’s a man of few words, but that doesn’t stop him from owning and dominating you the way he does. Your hands are a little quicker to grab at the button of your pants.

“Slower.” Growls Joel, now crossing his arms in front of his broad chest, shoulders squared back.

You nod weakly, unbuttoning them steadily. The zipper is slid down next, the fly opening and revealing your matching colored panties. There’s undoubtedly a wet spot on the cotton fabric, and it’s only getting worse. The jeans are then rolled down and kicked off, leaving you dressed so lewdly.

“Good girl. What’d you do wrong? I want ya’ to tell me while I touch you. And start from the beginnin’.”

In a matter of seconds, you can feel Joel’s body heat behind you, warming your bare back, legs, thighs, and neck. It’s like the fireplace you’d been sitting in front of earlier, only this is a different kind of heat. It’s a lustful, primal heat.

“We..we were out on patrol and..” Your breath catches in your throat when both of his strong hands travel up from your thighs to your hips. He squeezes lightly; not enough to hurt you, but enough to show you that strength that he can use if he so chooses. He could break you, and he gets off on that. It’s evident when his semi-hard cock presses against your lower back.

“And?” Joel croaks out, feeling you start to tremble as you become similar to malleable clay within his hands.

“We…I heard a- a noise and we..” The tips of his olive-toned fingers dip into the elastic waistband of your panties, brushing over the little bit of pubic hair you have. In an attempt to keep from sucking in a sharp breath, you bite your tongue and try to continue the story.

“..I checked it out. It, ah..w-was a clicker. It didn’t notice us an- oh god..”

Your words and coherent thoughts quickly flee from your mind once his right index finger ventures down until it’s prodding between your slick folds, feeling how wet you’ve become from this alone. Joel could feel your hips almost instinctively buck up against his fingers, trying to somehow bring pressure to your swollen clit.

“Keep. Goin’. I wanna hear it all, Pumpkin. You ain’t done. And keep fuckin’ still.”

“I grabbed my- my- Joel, I can’t..” You mewl breathlessly, enjoying the touch when his finger shifts back and begins to rub light circles over that sensitive nub you so wanted him to touch.

“You’re not cummin’ ‘til I hear what you gotta say, girlie.”

“But Joel-”

“Get to talkin’.”

This is absolute brain-numbing torture, and you hadn’t even started yet. This is only the beginning and it’s going to get much better and worse as time goes on. His finger continues its teasing, even slipping where it was to slide inside of your tight, velvety walls. You whine out and clench your cunt around his finger, needing something much bigger inside.

“Fuuuck…we..I snuck up be- behind it and tried to g- get it with my knife..”

“Mm.” A simple grunt in response is all you’re going to receive in terms of vocalization. Painfully slowly, he starts to pump that finger in and out of your sopping cunt, intent on working you up and teasing further. It’s working, your body is heating up and begging for more of his touch.

“It j- it jumped on me..had to- Ellie had to- kill…it..”

His finger slides out and leaves your underwear, leaving a wet trail of your juices up your stomach. He’s obviously not done with you. Not even close.

Your body is instantaneously gripped hard from both sides, and you find yourself being tossed to the bed like a ragdoll. The top half of your body is pressed face down into the mattress while your legs are hung over the edge of the bed so you’re bent over it. The anticipation consumes you as you grasp for purchase on the bedsheets.

“Joelll..” You whine.

“Shut it, princess. I’m not too happy with ya’ right now.”

Heavy footsteps from Joel’s boots get closer and closer to your wound up body from behind. His now fully erect dick is sat between the cheeks of your round ass, but isn’t quite making contact because of your underwear and his jeans.

The sides of your white underwear are grabbed and pulled down in one swift motion so they’re bunched around your ankles.The wetness of the fabric brushes against your calf, making you shudder.

“I’m gonna make sure you don’t run off and do somethin’ stupid like that again. You got that, little girl?” With that, your inner thighs are taken into his rough hands and parted, the sensations of different skin textures feeling ever so welcomed. Your mound is exposed to him in all its intimate glory, your slick starting to seep out onto your upper thighs.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, baby. ‘S a shame it belongs to such a stupid thing like you, eh?” Joel chuckles huskily. As much as you want to be annoyed with his degradation, you can’t be. It’s one of the hottest things to leave his lips, and it makes you feel so, so dirty inside and out. You crave it.

Your plush lips form an ‘o’ when Joel’s body shifts behind you. The heat of his mouth teases your throbbing, aching heat and creates a warm feeling that makes the desperate need increase by tenfold. Your mind is foggy, only visions of Joel fucking you senseless flooding your every waking thought.

The rough and scratchy, silver-streaked beard of his scrapes the soft meat of the back of your thigh, and you know he’s so close to eating you out. To giving you what you need.

“I’m gonna eat you out nice and slow, Pumpkin. And you ain’t gonna cum, not yet. Understood?”

You don’t even have time to respond before his open mouth attaches itself to your soaking wet pussy. A soft but surprised moan escapes your lips as your fingers clench hard onto the sheets to the point that your nails are digging through to your palms. The urge to push your hips back and facefuck him is strong, but you refrain.

Joel’s hot, wet tongue slides from his mouth and slips between your puffy lips. He’s tasting you, his own brown eyes closing in bliss while he groans into your cunt.

“Joel..!” The pleasure is already overwhelming. You’re so fucking turned on, you need this. And you need it badly.

“Quiet. This ain’t for your pleasure. ‘S for mine.”

That tongue of his pushes deeper between your folds, nuzzling into them with his nose and mouth. You’ve never had him eat you from the back, but it’s a feeling you can’t even begin to describe. The tip flicks against your swollen clit, earning an involuntary eye roll from you.

“Taste so fuckin’ good f’me. So damn sweet.” As he’s sucking and lapping at your sensitive bud, his hands move from the backs of your thighs to your ass cheeks. The older man kneads and squeezes the round globes in perfect time with his tongue-flicking. Lewd sounds of him noisily pleasuring you plus your loud moans fill the bedroom, leaving space for nothing else.

It might be because you’re wound up. Maybe it’s because you were worked up before you’d even gone on patrol. Either way, you know your orgasm is quickly approaching once that familiar pressure builds up in your lower abdomen. Your pussy muscles start to squeeze and contract around nothing as if it's got a mind of its own while your legs threaten to buckle and twitch.

“Please- oh fuck, please-” You cry out, your body starting to shake with every tantalizing move that brings you closer and closer to climax.

And then just as quickly as the build-up started, it fades away when Joel pulls his mouth away. You glance behind you to see Joel’s mouth and chin coated in your slick. He’s got a dark smile on his lips.

“What’d I say, princess? This ain’t for you. You ain’t cummin’. Not until I want ya’ to.”

“But Joel-! You said-”

“And you said you’d be safe on patrol. Guess we’re both liars now, ain’t we? Now turn around.” Joel chuckles, getting up from the floor and starting to unbuckle his dark brown leather belt.

You groan and gasp, too weak and jelly-like to move. With a little..rough..assistance from Joel, you’re turned around and fully laid on the bed.. He wastes no time climbing on top of you and gripping both cups of the white bra you’re still wearing, fingers digging into the soft and squishy fabric.

In a moment of intense strength, Joel pulls them apart without much effort. The bra splits open down the middle, revealing your breasts to the hungry man above you.

“Oh, look at you..” He croons, starting to grope at your tits while his fingers roll and pinch your nipples until they’re hardened peaks ready to be admired. His lips quickly find your cleavage and start to leave featherlight kisses down between them, earning another moan from you. Each touch is like a burst of fireworks in your body.

“So fuckin’ eager for me to punish you. That is, princess? Want this old man to fuck ya’ until you’re beggin’ to cum on my cock?”

Joel’s hard dick is straining against the fabric of his jeans, pressed snugly against your bare cunt. You catch yourself starting to shift your hips, chasing that friction. He’s too busy to care about that right now.

With a hoarse groan on his end, those soft, hot lips of the Texan’s venture back up until they’re fully pressed against your own in an aggressive, passionate kiss. That tongue, that damn tongue, slips between your lips without asking for entrance. Your tongues roll and battle for dominance, but it’s an easy fight for Joel. His left hand reaches up to grip your hair and keep you in place while he pulls away.

There’s a string of saliva connecting you two, wetting your chin a bit as his face then nuzzles into your neck. A new, sharp sting causes your body to jolt at attention, and you can tell Joel’s biting at the soft flesh at the base of your neck down to your collarbone.

“Everyone’s gonna know I’m the only one fuckin’ you. The only one stretchin’ that tight little pussy.”

Joel buries his nose along the hollow of your throat while he gathers your sweet, natural musk. The tousled, graying brown hair at the top of his head tickles just underneath your chin while he continues to mark your skin with deep red splotches that’ll form into hickeys any second.

“M- mhm..all- all yours..” You mewl loudly, your back dipping and arching in the pleasurable pain from Joel’s sharp teeth.

“That’s right, baby girl. I still ain’t gonna forgive you yet, though.” God, this man is relentless to you.

“Now,” he suddenly shifts back, sitting between your thighs while his strong, veiny hands move to his half-undone belt. It’s briskly pulled off and tossed to the floor before he’s already reaching to step out of his jeans. The button unsnaps and the zipper falls, the jeans already being yanked off and dropped right next to the belt. That thick, hard cock is visible through Joel’s boxers, but you don’t have time to admire them because those are quickly rolled off too.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ take me and I’m not preppin’ you. You hear? I don’t care if you’re gonna be a whinin’, bitchin’ mess. Spread those pretty legs, pumpkin.” It’s a mix of stern yet loving yet angry from earlier events.

On command, your thighs open up once you reveal yourself to him again.

“Jesus Christ, that’s so fuckin’ hot.”

Joel’s hips press to yours, his left hand coming to grab the headboard to keep himself stable. His right hand grips his cock, which is beading with pre-cum, and starts to stroke it languidly. The pre is spread along the head and shaft when he uses his palm to rub it along. Meanwhile, you can only look up at the beast of a man with pleading eyes, desperate for him to be inside you. You don’t care if it’ll hurt..if anything, you crave the burning sensation when he stretches you out.

Without warning, the tip of his dick is slapped teasingly against your aching, dripping mound. Joel begins to move again, gathering slick onto his length so he can slip in with ease despite not preparing you to take him in. You gasp and catch your bottom lip between your teeth, too messed up and blissed-out from what you’ve received so far to so much as utter a single sentence.

“I need…need you..” The voice is so small and strangled that you can hardly believe it came from your own body. The need and lust has completely overridden every coherent thought and word from your brain. It’s like you're drunk on his cock and you haven’t even felt it inside yet.

“Yeah? Hold on tight then.”

With that, Joel pulls back and harshly slams into you, his cock spearing your cunt and filling you up completely. There’s a searing pain where he’s stretching you out with the thickness alone, and his name leaves your lips like it’s the only thing you know. And right now, it is.

“Oh, fuuuck. There it is…s’ so tight..you’re gonna fuckin’..take alla’ it.” He rasps, his right hand gripping your shoulder so tightly his fingernails are leaving crescent shaped marks into the flesh.

“N-No- wait..wait..” You whimper, trying to stop him from thrusting so you have time to adjust.

But he doesn’t care.

“I ain’t waitin’. Not for this. You didn’t listen on patrol, I ain’t listenin’ to your cries.” He reminds you.

Hard, deep thrusts start to shake your body, the tip of his cock occasionally slamming against your cervix and creating whitehot pleasurable pain that presumably leaves bruises deep inside.

The unrelenting assault on your soft, tight walls makes you cry and beg, nails searching to grab onto anything to keep yourself stable and in the moment while he ruts into you over and over. Your breasts bounce with every movement, which is a sight you can tell Joel enjoys, evident by the hungry expression on his face.

“You wanna be such a bad little slut, dontcha? Don’t. Wanna. Fuckin’. Listen.” Every word in the last sentence is punctuated by a thrust when he drives himself into you.

“J- Joel! Pleaseee…” The pleasure is making your head hit the pillow, your toes to curl, and a thin sheet of sweat to build above your browline.

“Bad girls who..ah, fuck..” He croaks, getting cut off by a wave of pleasure crashing over his own body. You swear you can even hear a…whimper as his dark eyes roll into the back of his head.

“..girls who don’t..listen- they get their holes..fuckin’ used. Just like this, princess.”

There it is again. That build-up in the bottom of your stomach. Your orgasm is once again approaching, and you’re hoping he’ll finally let you get your release.

Joel must’ve noticed your fucked-out state, because he smiles deviously and slams back into you.

“What? Y’ wanna cum? Wanna cum while I’m poundin’ into ya’?”

“Ye- Yes- Joel, please!” You yell. There’s no holding back, you needed this. Your hands reach up and cling themselves into his mop of brown hair, burying your fingers into it while you whine and garble underneath him.

“If that’s what ya’ want..” You don’t notice the devilish gleam in his darkened doe eyes, you’re too caught up in the relief of knowing you’re going to be able to cum. As his thrusts and grunts continue, two thick fingers slide down towards your heat and delve between your sensitive folds. The fingers move away and are replaced with the calloused pad of his thumb pressing harshly against your throbbing clit.

“M- Fuck!” It’s almost too much; Joel’s pounding into you paired with his thumb not letting up courses sparks of indescribable pleasure radiating through your body. Your orgasm builds and builds and builds until..

“I’m not rewardin’ you today.”

Joel starts to swirl his thumb quickly around your already super sensitive nub instead of slowly and gently. The wave of ecstasy you’d been waiting for and pining over crashes over you for just a split second and that usual over-sensitivity takes over before you could even enjoy it. The orgasm was fast and ruined and you fucking hated it.

A sense of frustration fills your senses while you glare daggers up at Joel, who’s still moving and holding tightly to your body until there’s red handprint marks left all over your hips, chest, and thighs. You grunt and furrow your brows at him.

“You mad, princess? Too…too fuckin’ bad. You’re so fuckin’ adorable..”

Joel’s then holding you down onto the bed while he fucks into you with reckless abandon, using you like his own personal fleshlight until he’s ready to shoot his load deep inside of you. Of course it’s not long before his movements are losing their rhythm. They begin to stutter and twitch as his cock throbs while you’re wrapped around him.

“Ohh, shit, princess…’m gonna cum so fuckin’- so fuckin’ hard. ‘S gonna fill you up ‘til you’re leakin’.”

One thrust. Two thrusts. A third, final roll of his hips emits an animalistic groan from the rough southern man as he shoots thick ropes of his semen to paint your soft insides. You feel the hot substance spilling into you, and you can’t help but let out a moan despite your anger towards your boyfriend right now.

His softening cock doesn’t pull out even as he’s caught his breath and laid atop you. You’re being crushed by his body, but you don’t mind.

“You’re…an asshole..” You mutter, voice muffled from Joel’s sweaty shoulder pressed to your lips.

“Love ya’ too, sugar. Maybe now you’ll fuckin’ listen when I tell ya’ to start bein’ safe.” It’s obvious Joel’s being genuine right now, with his voice soft yet still hoarse from the sex while his southern twang rings in your ears.

You can’t stay mad at this man, can you?

“I ain’t tryin’ to be a dick. I just…want you safe. That so hard to ask for? Ya’ don’t needa be a hero, kid.”

“I know..”

“What’d we learn?” He whispers in your ear, hand coming up to roll a few strands of your hair between his fingers in a loving way. His flaccid cock is still inside of you, but it’s oddly..comforting.

“Not to…be reckless..”

“Good girl.” A soft kiss is pressed to your forehead, nothing like a kiss you’d felt from the Joel from earlier. It’s a tender one, meant to comfort you. At the end of the day, all he wants is for you to be safe. Hell, he hates you even just going on patrol.

“I love you. You know that, dontcha?”

“I know. I love you too..”

You both lay there, curled up in each others’ warm embrace. As much as Joel likes to torture you when you’ve been ‘bad’, you know he loves you. Even if he sucks at words and feelings, the love in those eyes says enough.

#joel miller x y/n #joel miller #tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us tv #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #ellie williams #smut #joel miller fic #dom!joel miller #sub!reader #fanfic

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dufrau · 6 days

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This is mostly an excuse to put bird more emojis in your inbox but🦩🦚🦃

🦩dealer's choice (choose any quote at all! or the summary / ao3 tags thing! whatever! wild card!)

(this is from a different wip, it feels like a wildcard to me i guess)

"You come in here like five times a day, Officer," she reminded him. "I'd think you'd know my name by now."

"Hey hey hey wait," he called out. He whispered- "You know I like it when you put the sugar in last so it doesn't melt all the way and I get the, you know. The little crunchy bits." He raised his voice back up to normal. "I come in here like five times a day, I'd think you'd know my coffee order by now."

Robin snorted. "I know your order, I just object to it on principle. This barely even qualifies as coffee anymore."

🦚 a sexy quote (spicy, outright nsfw, etc--if you're not comfortable with this one specify in the tags!)

Okay I know this is probably very hard to believe but I do not currently have anything even vaguely sexy written in any of my wips. What am i doing with my life??? This line is legit the closest thing to even vaguely suggestive I have right now:

Robin thought about going in. She watched the shape of a woman leaning an elbow on the bar, one slim finger tracing against a glass of wine lit bright red, and she twisted the ring on her own finger. She thought about acquainting herself with scrod and whatever the New England version of townies might look like, but then she caught her own reflection in the window, and she remembered how tired she was. She wouldn't be good company tonight. She could only get herself in trouble.

🦃 a big, meaty quote (JUST A BIG OL PARAGRAPH YOU WANNA SHARE)

This is the longest paragraph I own:

Robin had gotten on a plane in Indianapolis and gotten lost in the airport in Boston for an hour before getting on a train, and then she'd had to figure out how to switch to a different train just to go one stop before switching to yet another train, and then she'd sat around for another half hour in the too-hot sun in a bus station that smelled like garbage and she'd lost count of how many people she'd had to tell Sorry, I don't smoke when they asked to bum a cigarette, before finally she'd gotten on a bus that let her off at a quieter station to wait for another bus. And that bus had taken her along a sad looking stretch of marshland and inlets and then past an ancient carousel and a sea-bleached boardwalk, past families carting coolers and chairs and umbrellas and toddlers across the one street on this peninsula over to the seawall and the sand on the other side, and the ocean that went on further than anything imaginable. Past a traveling carnival set up in a big grassy field that would probably be gone in a week to make room for more beach parking when summer finally got around to digging its heels in.

(questions)

#asks #wip ask game #birds for the queerbird

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prairiesongserial · 8 months

Text

21.5

The drive in Officer Liang’s car was long and silent, and it quickly became too dark outside to watch the scenery through the windows. Cody almost fell asleep–the only thing that kept him from it was being trapped between Friday and John in the backseat. The only comfortable way to sleep was by resting his head against John, and with how weird John had been on the train…maybe they weren’t there yet.

The car jostled its way over a pothole in the road, the unexpected bounce sending Friday, Cody and John knocking into each other.

“Sorry,” Officer Liang said, sounding embarrassed.

Cody leaned forward to peer out the window and saw that a building had risen out of the fog ahead. Some of its windows were lit, but not enough to fully understand the shape of the place. It seemed sprawling in a way he couldn’t comprehend, even more so when Officer Liang stopped the car just inside the yawning mouth of what had to be a gate. She rolled down the window and exchanged a few words with another guard standing nearby, then threw the car into gear again and kept going.

“You know, not a lot of people get to stay at the palace,” Officer Liang remarked. When no one answered her, she filled the silence herself. “It’s got loads of rooms, though. Not all bedrooms. But still a lot of bedrooms. You’re staying near the queen’s rooms, lucky you.”

While she talked, the car passed through a second gate, and finally pulled to a stop just inside a third. Officer Liang unbuckled her seatbelt and got out, letting the engine idle. Everyone else followed her example, Cody sliding out of the car just behind John.

The gate opened up onto a courtyard that probably looked better in warm weather. Most of the space was taken up by an enormous fountain that no longer had water in it, and was now an empty basin filled with slushy, melting piles of snow. The grass around the fountain looked nearly dead; Cody tested it under the sole of his shoe and was surprised to find it crunchy with frost.

The courtyard was flanked on three sides by covered walkways, as well as doors that led inside the enormous, segmented building that now surrounded Cody and the others. The only real exit was back through the three gates the car had come through, past the guards no doubt stationed and waiting in the shadows. The whole place was a trap closing in on them.

“I’ll help carry your things upstairs,” Officer Liang said, without being asked. She had already popped the trunk open and was gathering suitcases into her arms. No one moved to stop her–only when it looked like she might struggle to see past the stack of luggage did Val reach out to take one of the bags from her.

“Thank you,” she said, with some relief. It was strange that no other guards or staff were around to help her; maybe it was too late at night, or she’d told them to back off at the first gate. “Uh, I’ll just–”

She gestured at one of the doorways into the large building, and set off, clearly expecting to be followed. Cody exchanged a look with John, and saw Friday doing the same with Val out of the corner of his eye. What choice did they have?

Despite himself, Cody slept well. He’d thought that having a bedroom to himself for the first time since New Orleans would make him too jumpy to sleep, but between what had happened on the Demeter and spending all day moving from jail to jail, he was exhausted. He passed out as soon as he was lying down.

Officer Liang woke him, John, Val, and Friday up the next morning with a sharp knock on the door, waiting patiently for them to be dressed and ready before escorting them to breakfast. This, at least, was familiar territory–the large dining hall with furniture that looked inappropriately expensive reminded Cody of eating breakfast at Texas Waters. The Queen was just another rich person, after all, and most rich people were the same when it came down to it. They liked showing off their money in the same, tacky ways.

“When do we get to see the Queen, Officer?” Friday asked, picking at the sausages on her plate. The only other people in the dining hall were other palace guards, who came and went in boisterous groups and didn’t seem to pay any mind to the strangers in their midst.

“Ah–I wish you’d call me Claire,” Officer Liang said, rubbing the back of her neck a little sheepishly. “I’m supposed to take you to Her Majesty’s drawing room once you’re done here. But, you know, take your time.”

Cody wasn’t sure it was a good idea to keep a queen waiting. Everyone else seemed to agree. They mutually finished their breakfasts over the next few minutes, leaving empty plates on the table to be cleared away as they once again followed Officer Liang–Claire–to another part of the palace.

The whole, segmented building was the palace, Cody had learned from Claire over breakfast. He’d gotten his first look at the place in broad daylight this morning, looking out his bedroom window, and he still found it hard to comprehend why anyone would want to live in a place so large. Maybe if you were housing a lot of folks, like the convent in New Orleans. But as far as he could tell, the only people who lived here were the Queen and her guards. It felt like a place where you could go days without seeing another human being.

“Here we are,” Claire said brightly, leading the group through an open doorway. “Queen’s office. I’ll just, ah, wait outside.”

She left, nudging the door shut behind her. Cody barely noticed; he was busy taking in the room she’d left them in. The walls were high and covered in old paintings, so old they’d taken on significant water damage. Even the ceiling was painted, a scene filled with angels whose faces were flaking off and spiderwebbed with cracks and rot. Next to him, Cody could see Val gawking up at it.

Most of the room itself was taken up by a large desk with an equally large chair behind it, in which sat the Queen. She was a pale woman with severe features and red hair scraped back into a bun at the back of her head. Her makeup was a shade too vibrant for her, giving the impression that she was perpetually flushed. She was surprisingly young, too–she couldn’t have been much older than Cody.

Spread out on the desk in front of her were the Hemisphere wanted posters for John, Cody, Val, and Friday.

“Take a seat,” the Queen said.

There were other chairs strewn almost haphazardly around the room. Cody sank into the nearest one, feeling winded–he hadn’t expected to be confronted with his wanted poster here, an entire ocean away. For one train ride, he’d been free. Was that really it?

“I have to admit, I’m a little baffled as to why the Dauphin would send a bunch of Americans to spy for him,” the Queen went on, once everyone was sitting. “It doesn’t seem like his style.”

“We’re not spying,” Cody protested.

“We’re trying to get–” Friday began, at the same time. They caught each others’ eye, and she nodded for him to go on instead of her.

“We were trying to get to Canada,” Cody said. “We ended up on a ship with the Dauphin and his friends, and didn’t know we were going to France instead. He, uh–Friday convinced him to help us get back on track, and he sent us with a letter for the regent, to get a ship to Canada.”

The Queen hummed as she took in the information, tapping a pen against the surface of her desk.

“Regrettably,” she said, “the regent is dead.”

“What?” Cody asked.

“He tried to kill my cousins–the young princes. He was discovered in the act and tried to flee,” the Queen explained. Her eyes flicked downwards, and a grimace crossed her face; apparently she found this distasteful to talk about. “The Palace Guard pursued him and killed him, but the princes were kidnapped in the confusion, and are presently missing. So you see why your letter of introduction may have raised a red flag.”

“Why’d he want to kill them?” Friday asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

The Queen shrugged. “I suppose he wanted to rule without opposition. Clearly that worked out well for him.”

“Will you get us a ship?” John asked. “Or will you turn us in to Hemisphere?”

Apparently he was finished beating around the bush; Cody couldn’t blame him. The wanted posters on the desk had been a nasty shock, and Cody could tell John had felt it, too–his knuckles were paper-white around the handle of his cane.

The Queen laughed. “You know, Claire told me you were a rude bunch, but I thought she was just being sensitive.”

“That’s not an answer,” Cody said.

“She wants something from us,” Val said, speaking for what might have been the first time that morning. “I thought that was obvious.” He leaned forwards, elbows propped on his knees, and there was something so sharp and Johannes-like in his expression that it threw Cody for a second. “What do you want that will get us a ship, Your Highness?”

“It’s simple, really,” the Queen said, and smiled thinly at the four of them. “I want you to help destroy a bit of the Underground, so I can get the regent’s sympathizers–the faction that took my cousins–out in the open. An easy task for a group of wanted criminals, as I figure it.”

“And if we don’t?” Val asked.

“Then you go back to jail,” the Queen said. “Indefinitely. Or I could execute you and mail your heads back to the States, but that would be awfully messy.”

Cody clenched his jaw, then forced himself to relax it. He didn’t trust the Queen at all–there was no way she was telling them the full story, but if the people she was sending them after really had kidnapped a couple of kids…

“We’ll get a ship to Canada?” he asked. “If we do this?”

“You’ll leave the same day, if you like,” the Queen said, waving the question away with the flick of her wrist.

Cody looked to John, who gave him a barely perceptible nod. Friday mimicked the gesture, and Val, at the end of the row of chairs, simply shrugged.

“Then we’re in,” Cody said. “Tell us what we have to do.”

21.4 || 21.6

#story

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soupfiction · 2 years

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Hi! I just finished In the Job Description and wanted to tell you how much I loved it. I was wondering if you would consider writing Six and Claire? Their relationship is one of my favorite things about the movie (other than mister hotness himself).

HEY— sorry for how long it took me to reply. i’m really glad you enjoyed it !! really makes writing worth it.

i’m planning to write some stuff for six and claire because their relationship is so wholesome. but for now, here’s a quick little drabble and a handful of headcanons.

three headcanons/random words:

claire gives him some honey and lemon airwave gum she got the maid to pick up when she notices he’s sick, going, “Our secret, robot.”

she keeps popping these stickers on his suit jacket. he doesn’t take them off.

six usually sleeps in the guest room, but after the hospital visit he’s got a pillow and blanket right outside her door. letting her keep it closed because she says having it open makes her scared (a childhood fear showing its ugly face in response to everything that’s happening).

little drabble:

Lack of sleep makes Six feel sick.

A consistent throbbing in his skull, a little hammer being banged up against his temples in the rhythm of some up-beat song that would be played at a night club. Full god damn blast, speakers thumping and making the floor rattle. His head feels like that, as if someone spun the dial on some beaten sound device and decided it was okay for ear drums to be at risk of rupturing each time the bass caused a mini earthquake.

He’d popped three low-grade pain pills in an attempt to lessen each blow, dry swallowing them because he already drained the water bottle on his bedside table and forgot to get another. That was this morning, before the sun had even risen because some stray cat had decided to sprint across the lawn and set off the sensors— a beep—beep—beep ringing and amplifying the pain in his head. Now he’s got his head buried in a bowl of some sweet, sugary cereal, eyes lidded and mouth barely opening to swallow the spoonfuls of the food.

Just past the dish sits his laptop, cameras running and everything looking good. Except it takes longer to process it all, like he’s got to consciously run his eyes over each and every nook and cranny before doing it all over again just to really say he’s really looked at it. Even biting down on the crunchy bits of breakfast makes another wave of dull ache run through head, now spreading from the front to the back. A full fucking circle all due to the fact he hasn’t been able to get a good few hours of sleep since arriving in Hong Kong.

Blaming it on jet lag because he can’t process that this job is actually worrying him— namely because of a girl who is just now getting up.

Floral pajamas that run a little long on the legs, dragging over her feet as she pads to the table, rubbing sleep out of her eyes before saying, “Can I have some of that?”

Six blinks and nearly shoves his own bowl of cereal towards her, first urge to oblige and give her food before realizing she meant the colorful box sitting on the table. “Yeah.” He slides it across the smooth wood while Claire grabs what she needs. Plopping down to the left of him and preparing the makeshift breakfast.

“Do you put the milk or cereal first?” She asks, spoon clinking inside the bowl when she goes to take her first bite.

A thick eyebrow raises up at the posed question, but she’s got a mouthful of colorful grains. Munching with the slightest hint of a smirk at how his face just blanks out. Mr. Serious, she always calls him. Can take out five guys in half that many minutes yet hesitates at the simplest of questions. “Cereal?”

Claire hums, a dribble of milk falling from her mouth. He pushes a napkin across the table. “Good answer, robot. You had me worried for a second.”

#soup asks #sierra six #the gray man #the gray man movie #sierra six headcanons #sierra six and claire

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werewolfoverlord12 · 1 year

Text

Addendum 1

Amelia, daughter of Ajani and Seraphina Goldmane, stood in front of the giant holding tank in which Sheoldred, the former black Praetor of New Phyrexia, hung.

Along the praetor’s back were a series of wires and crystal electrodes that allowed them to hack into her mind and pull out various information, while at each shoulder joint and at her waist were various tubes that fed her a mixture of nutrients and a weak solution of Halo to keep her alive but subdued.

“Amy?”

She looked over her shoulder at Urabrask, now a crimson dragonoid from a process that separated everything Urabrask from Phyrexia, and raised her eyebrows.

“What is this?” He asked, holding up a bright red fruit.

“It’s an apple. Why? Is everything okay?” She asked.

He nodded, “Yes. It’s just… amazing.”

“They’re good but I wouldn’t say they’re amazing.” Amelia replied.

Urabrask rolled his eyes and stood up from the console to let her pass, “Says the person who’s eaten them all their life. Remember, this is new to me,” he took another bite, “mmmph! Cold, crunchy, sweet, juicy.” He took another bite and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, “Sorry.”

Amelia stood at the door and watched him savor every bite and sip from his lunch. Cheese, bread, an apple and milk. Simple food, and yet his meals took an hour or more to finish. He asked questions, made suggestions, wanted to know what else there was.

“Can I have some of the cheese?” she asked.

Urabrask broke off a chunk, “What did the humans call this? Cheedair?”

“Cheddar, but close enough,” she took a bite and closed her eyes; she spent a food minute just turning the flavor over on her tongue, “this is really good.”

“Right?!” he broke a piece of his apple off and handed it to her.

“I never really paid attention to it.” She said.

“I’m learning the living do that a LOT.” Urabrask said.

“Hmm?”

“Take things for granted.” Urabrask said, sitting back down, “even before I became one of you, I noticed a lot of Mirrodinians hadn’t expected this to happen or that they could fight to reclaim their world. Not sure how much is left of it at this point.”

Amelia paused mid chew; she’d taken a lot of things for granted yes, like… a flash of her father crushing her against his chest in a bone popping bear hug that squeezed any doubt he didn’t love her from her body… and she felt her body tense.

He’s safe, he’s safe, he’s… she let out a sob as tears spilled from her eyes.

“Amelia?” Urabrask said, setting his apple down and walking over to her.

“I’m alright. I just… I took my dad’s hugs for granted. I didn’t think I might lose him this soon…” she whispered.

Urabrask sighed, “No one does. I can only imagine how horrible it is to suddenly not have a loved one with you. It explains why the living fear death so much.”

Amelia shook her head, “It was worse; becoming Phyrexian, becoming a sleeper agent… everything that he was, everything he believed in and practiced was just… gone. And yet… he’s still up and around? Like it’s watching someone being raised by a necromancer, but they’re not rotting. It’s still them just… argh!” She said.

“A mockery of who they are.” Urabrask said.

Amelia nodded, and then looked into the praetor’s eyes, “You understood that. I think that’s why the process left so little of phyrexia in the other tank: most of it was you.”

Urabrask snorted, “I think there’s more to it than that but…”

“I mean you’re less like the rest of Phyrexia. Still powerful, dangerous… but the form you’re in now.” She looked him up and down, “this is what Phyrexia could have been had Yawgmoth not been psychotic.”

Urabrask blinked, “Um… not… sure how I should take that.”

Amelia laughed, “I know. It was supposed to come out as a compliment I guess? You’re what Phyrexia could become without the dogmatic oppression and suppression of free will; something better.”

Urabrask swallowed, “O-okay. Um…” Urabrask lowered his chin and she could tell his face was a darker shade of red, “Thank you Amelia.”

@delta-hexagon

(a scene i thought of but cant see putting in the main story)

#magic the gathering #urabrask

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aroadcalledsobriety · 1 year

Text

Here's to Us | A Stranger Things FanFiction

Chapter 2

Prev | Next

Flickering lights and a blonde with a nose bleed sends Joan Destiny back in time to 1985 as Joan Agatha, supposedly her aunt whose existence she had never heard about before. A fan of Back to the Future and Doctor Who, Joan knows how changing the course of the future could end for her, so she decides to act the part - no matter how hard it can be. Between Russians, drug dealers, and interdimensional monsters Joan is left with one question...

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴏᴀɴ ᴀɢᴀᴛʜᴀ? ¿ɐɥʇɐɓ∀ uɐoſ oʇ pǝuǝddɐɥ ʇɐɥM

24 May 1985 Hawkins, Indiana

When Joan woke up the first thing that hit her was the headache.

The second thing was the blinding realization that oh my god she's alive followed by a spaz-attack where she grabbed every part of her body and then finished at her throat, sighing a relief that she was fully intact and fell back on the grassy ground to calm down with the warmth of the sun on her skin.

Only to sit back up again in a panic.

Joan was almost positive that Hawkins had been nearing winter when she had last been awake with crunchy leaves already on the ground and dozens of assignments piling up amongst her classes. Anxiously, the girl stood up and brushed off her skirt, scowling that of all the days for something weird to go down she had to look so stupidly proper.

"Joan? Joan?!"

"Grandma?" Joan asked in confusion looking behind her at the voice and pushing herself off the ground to trek over. The familiar home from the 70's on a hill filled her vision within a few seconds and she frowned, pausing with a weird feeling crawling up her back. "Where are her roses...?"

The screened back door quickly slammed open and Joan's eyes widened in shock at the woman who eyed her in relief. "Oh, good heavens Joan! You gave me a scare. You know I don't like you hanging in those woods alone."

Her mouth bobbed open and closed, but Joan could speak no words. The woman in front of her looked just like her dad's mom but from, like, 30 years ago!

"O-oh, what the fuck." Joan whispered in horror, taking a step back and looking at her grandma stare at her in concern. "T-this is really trippy."

"Joan Henderson, are you high right now?!"

"Woah, Joan's high? I want to see, I want to see!" Out from behind Joan's grandma pushed out a face that Joan had only seen in pictures. A chubby face and curly hair that she was always envious of and mischievous eyes that never changed throughout the decades...

"Dad?!"

There was a silence at the exclamation and the two familiar yet unfamiliar Henderson's stared wide eyed at the teen girl as if she had sprouted wings ands started flying. Dustin, her dad, broke first as a wide grin filled his face and he pointed over at the girl.

"Holy shit, you're high as a fucking kite, Jo'!"

"What the fuck, no I'm not!"

"Uh, yeah the fuck you are!"

"Dustin Joseph Henderson and Joan Agatha Henderson!" The matriarch screeched out, appalled at the language and behavior from the two teens. Both of them flinched at the sound and looked back at the woman apologetically.

"S-sorry, mom."

"Sorry, uh-?" Joan trailed off, unsure what to say because there was no way in hell this was her dad... at least not yet, right? What the fuck was going on?!

"You two... I swear..." Mrs. Henderson huffed angrily, pointing inside with a manicure finger and glaring at both teens harshly. "Inside, both of you. Dinner is ready and the table is set..."

Joan followed Dustin inside hesitantly, quickly catching up to her dad(?) who nudged her as soon as they were inside and away from the woman. She frowned down at the mischievous grin, not sure what he was up to. What was she supposed to call him?! "What... do you want?"

"Was it weed?"

"What?"

"Did you smoke weed?" Dustin asked again, this time finishing his sentence by grabbing a fistful of the girl's cardigan and pulling it to his nose with a rather aggressive sniff. He frowned, looking at the fabric in confusion. "You don't smell like weed..." He went in for another sniff, but the fabric was ripped from his grip by a scowling Joan.

"Jesus- stop that!" Joan hissed out, pushing her -whoever the fuck he was- away from her. Whoever this kid was to her... he was not her dad and she didn't care if it was the Queen as a kid... all kids were little shits. "What grade are you in again, third?!"

"Eighth, actually." Dustin responded matter-of-factly with a little lisp, unbothered by the act of aggression and rolling his eyes at the question. Joan nodded, storing the information in her head for later while wiping her nose with her sleeve.

Dustin frowned, stopping in front of his usual chair at the table and staring over at Joan with narrowed eyes, examining her with a wickedly familiar gaze that she'd get whenever her dad was deep in thought, before gasping in horror.

"What?! Is there a spider or something?!"

"Cocaine!"

"What?!" Joan cried out in shock, pausing her search to stare across the table incredulously at the little shit that would one day be her dad. "Cocaine?!"

"Oh sweet Jesus, my sisters a drug addict." Dustin's eyes were still wide, but his voice was even as he grabbed his head and shook it in disbelief. "I shouldn't be shocked, but I am. Why am I shocked?"

"Why are you-?! Shouldn't be shocked? Sister-?!" Joan's brain whirled around quickly, the new information almost overwhelming her as the word sister bounced around in here mind and she stared at her brother? Dad didn't have a sister... right? "Hold on.. drug addict?!"

"And she's still denying that she has a problem... this is an absolute tragedy equivalent to Hamlet."

"Hold on, pause, back it up... what did you just say?"

Dustin cleared his throat and raised his voice, slowing his words down to a point where Joan's eye twitched in annoyance. "You... are... sad... like... Hamlet... which is a play about-."

"Yes, I know what Hamlet is about!"

"Brevity is the soul of wit." Dustin responded with a shrug of his shoulders and Joan scowled, her fist clenching in anger.

"Did you just call me stupid?! From a Shakespeare play?!"

"No, I said-"

"Enough you two." Their mother snapped as she joined the table and patted the wooden surface. Both teens immediately shut their mouths and looked at each other, slowly taking their seats and silently passed the food around.

Joan stole glances at her... brother-dad? she winced at the title, trying to rid herself of the thought as a distant tune of Sweet Home Alabama played in her mind. God, what did Kaleigh do to her? She paused her scooping of carrots in horror as she thought about the fate of the others that were with her.

Did they escape? Were they here with her? Were her children okay?!

"Joan!" Joan jolted up in her seat at the call of her name, snapping over with wide eyes to look at her suspicious, yet worried mother staring at her. "Are you going to pass the carrots or continue staring at them like they're going to jump out at you and eat your face?"

The teen swallowed thickly and passed the carrots in response, her mother's frown deepening and her eyes narrowing. "Are you sure you're not under the influence, Joan because I swear-!"

"She hath more hair than wit." Dustin snickered under his breathe as he scooped a spoonful of food into his mouth and stared over at his sister with dancing eyes. His joy didn't last for too long as a kick to his legs caused him to wince and let out a painful, "Oh, shit!"

"I'll beat thee, but I would infect my hands." Joan hissed out, causing Dustin to look over at his sister with a snarky grin.

"I told you you were a nerd too!"

A nerd, too?!

"What does that mean, you twerp?!"

Dustin waved his hands in the air mockingly, his voice going up a horrendous amount of octaves to imitate Joan's voice. "Oh look at me, I'm Joan Henderson. I'm a cheerleader and I'm too cool to do D anymore. Instead I wave pompoms and pretend like I don't have Lord of the Rings quotes all over my walls. And apparently do drugs! Bleh bleh."

"I'm not a vampire you dork." Joan snorted, even though the imitation was supposed to be an insult, it was hilarious to watch a young version of her dad pretend to be a cheerleader. Plus, it gave her much need information about who his sister was... who she was? "What was the bleh bleh for?"

"You know, when you guys have the dumb shaky things and go bleh bleh before you guys turn into violent monsters, and suck the life and fun out of everyone."

"That's kind of... violent."

"Well, cheerleaders are a different species."

Joan's head shot back as she let out a huge laugh, thinking about what Brynnyn would say to that comment. The brunette agree full heartedly, but the raven-haired girl would have shot out of her seat to passionately rant about the sport of cheerleading.

"Alright you two, settle down and finish your dinner." Their mother rolled her eyes fondly, enjoying the light atmosphere with a smile on her face. "Joan, honey, would you make sure to get a new bag of cat food from the garage?"

"Why can't Dustin do it?" Because I have no idea where it would be!

"Because its Dusty's turn to do dishes."

"Oh, come on!" Dustin wined loudly, hitting his head on the table in disappointment. The boy was quickly reprimanded and then the dinner table was relatively calm and relaxed while Joan tried not let herself freak out on the outside as much as was on the inside.

Each question she asked was crafted to get as much information out as possible, disguised as lightly versed insults, concerned daughter, and/or genuinely curious. It was hard, so when Joan made it to the garage alone with the door shut, she lifted a hand over her pounding heart and swallowed thickly.

"To recap." She started slowly while pacing behind her mother's car in tune with the racing thump thump thump inside her chest. "I am Joan Agatha Henderson. Not Joan Destiny Henderson. My brother is now my dad and is significantly younger... my mother is my grandmother. I've travelled in time somehow to Hawkins in the 80's back when all that shit went down."

A pause. Joan's face went white at another terrible feeling.

Her dad never mentioned a sister. Her grandmother never mentioned a daughter. Joan was named Joan after someone significant in her dad's childhood, but that was all the information she was given to the point she was almost positive she was named after Joan Jett.

Worst of all she was a cheerleader, a species she was unfamiliar with besides her interactions with Brynnyn who if it wasn't for her talents would probably not be on the team for social reasons alone.

"I'm going crazy." Joan decided with a nod, looking over the shelves for the cat food. "I fell asleep drink chocolate milk again. There's no way I'm actually here in the 80's with my dad for a brother and possibly possessing a body that isn't mine."

The nail in the coffin was the moment Joan stepped into her bedroom she was going to be sick. The walls were a Pepto Bismal disaster with posters of artists she didn't know and Polaroids of people that she didn't recognize. Glancing over at the only familiar decorations being the aforementioned book quotes, she walked over to her desk to see if there were any more clues on who Joan Agatha Henderson was. Swallowing thickly, Joan grabbed a lose Polaroid on her desk and stared at the cheek-kissed individual, her stomach dropped and eyes widened comically at the image.

Oh my God, was that her and Uncle Steve?!

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prof-arjun · 1 year

Text

Pokemon Challenge Run: Pokemon Blue- No Catching

Straightforward run in that I couldn't catch anything, instead using only gift Pokemon, or bought Pokemon. This seriously limited my roster especially given how important HMs are in the earlier gens. Not to mention how absolutely difficult it is to grind EXP in the early games.

Knowing that my starter would be my saving grace from early on, I chose Bulbasaur. Nicknaming the little sprout Bruteroot since he would have to be brutally aggressive against both Brock and Misty.

My second choice of team member was the $500 Magikarp right before you enter Mt. Moon. Which I added instantly since while raising a Gyrados is a nightmare, I was headed into a place where Bruteroot would slay and Kite the Magikarp could get plenty of second-hand EXP. Though the Paras and Clefairy I ran into did give me some trouble, unlike Team Rocket and their Zubats. (Did I say that out loud?)

From here it was pretty bland, trying to dodge as many trainers as possible for future teammates to get a chance at a ton of EXP while also limiting Bruteroot and Kite to the meager scraps of EXP from the wild Pokemon. But, once I got to Cerulean... it was pretty strightforward.

I tried to dodge as many of the trainers as I could on my way to Bill's house so I could take on Misty. A fight Bruteroot was absolutely MVP as an Ivysaur, a clean sweep so I could move on. The only place I couldn't do this in was SS Anne, since I needed Cut to get the rest of my team... more or less. And with Bruteroot and Kite needing enough EXP to carry the rest until they could do it for themselves, it was the obvious choice to fight literally everyone on the boat before crushing Blue (I named him cheater as a joke because its a no catching run but here he is with all the Pokemon he could possibly catch but... calling him Blue/Gary from now on.)

Once I got ahold of Cut, I dodged the same people as much as I could, ignoring Lt. Surge for the time being. My main goal was getting the rest of my team, or as much of it as possible. I ran off to Route 10, skirting to Lavender Town and Celadon City where I was completely able to grab a ton of good Pokemon.

Ah yes, the free Eevee on top of Celadon Apartments, the Game Corner prize Pokemon. I did a lot of grinding in the Game Corner to grab a Dratini and Pinsir. The Eevee I instantly evolved into Flareon, just for type coverage sake. And with plenty of money, since I was selling as many of the free items as I could for all of these Pokemon...

But, I was able to buy Flamethrower from Celadon Department Store. Along with a few more TMs for Hogarth, the Dratini and Crunchie, the Pinsir. I also went ahead with a drink for the guards of Saffron so I could just run around freely. Also to take on the Fighting Dojo on to grab Hitmonchan, who I named Jackie. My bias of older movies showing yet?

This ended up being my final set up for the rest of the game. While that did put Lapras from Silph Co. and the other available Pokemon from the Game Corner and the two fossil Pokemon in the box. Sorry babies, I've never had this good a chance to use my favorite, later game Pokemon.

Admittedly, Flareon (Pyro) did underwhelm as a team member, but the fire type was greatly appreciated as a buffer in the League. Agatha, I'm looking at you. Cleaning up the rest of the game and it's Trainers was easy enough. I ended up fainting everything that crossed my path since EXP was rather difficult to come by without cheats or losing a ton of battles.

Another thing, while I wasn't able to use any captured Pokemon, I did still catch the two Snorlax, the Legendary Birds, and Mewtwo. While all of them could have been beaten and let go, I decided that it would be a better challenge to catch them. Even though it meant those six were also boxed.

All in all, this team was really fun to use. I've never actually used Flareon, Dragonite, or Pinsir before... let alone in a Kanto Playthrough. Of course while Gan 1 didn't have genders or Natures, I gave them personality during the play time. I had a lot of fun thinking about this, and no I didn't try to make them competitive in any way.

This was my team at the end of the playthrough:

Venusaur- Bruteroot- Male- Quiet

Gyrados- Kite- Female- Impish

Flareon- Pyro- Male- Docile

Pinsir- Crunchie- Female- Jolly

Dragonite- Hogarth- Male- Adamant

Hitmonchan- Jackie- Male- Sassy

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phoenixprjct · 5 months

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🎮 The Callisto Protocol can't quite escape the shadow of Dead Space - In-Depth Review 🎮

Rating: ⭐⭐.5

Developer (Platform): Striking Distance Studios (PlayStation 5)

Publisher (Release): Krafton (2022)

🧠 Previous Thoughts 🧠

The Callisto Protocol is undoubtedly the spiritual successor to the Dead Space series, but it sadly won’t set the genre on fire in the same way. Solid if bland plots and characters are buoyed by an immersive atmosphere, and a brutally unforgiving focus on melee feels tactful and crunchy, making The Callisto Protocol a fresh IP and an incredibly visceral game (sorry).

⚡ Updated Thoughts ⚡

So, after multiple replays, several increasing difficulties, and various DLC (one of which kills any potential future for the property), I felt compelled to do something I rarely do but think reviewers should: change my rating and update a review…

The Callisto Protocol has its potential, but, the more I play, the more frustrated I get. There are moments where just as I feel like I’m enjoying myself, the game reminds me that it doesn’t actually want me to play it. In fact, its biggest issue is just that: so much control is taken from the player. If you’re not shimmying through a tight space, you’re crawling through yet another vent; if the combat isn’t glitching, you’re forced into a ‘cinematic’ grab; and, until recently, if you weren’t doing any of the above, you were in an unskippable cutscene.

Too much playtime consists of, well, very little actual playtime. In my original review, I focused on how, from the atmosphere, setting, and aesthetics, The Callisto Protocol is undoubtedly the spiritual successor to Dead Space, but it’s almost as if the game realises this and tries to pivot violently the other way, leaving a confused and messy horror that tries too hard to force an experience only to, sadly, avoid one entirely.

For the full review and more posts like it, follow me here and visit my site:

#game review #games #game #video games #game reviews #the callisto protocol #krafton #dead space #strikingdistancestudios

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Plank All Over Me - Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist

Plank All Over Me Masterlist

“Welcome back to Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts.” James Cordan said to the camera. “I’m here with Tom and Y/n Holland.”

“Oh my God.” Tom looked at you with wide eyes as you both thought the same thing.

“He introduced us.” You realized. “We can’t do our bit.”

“You’re my wife now, darling. You get to do anything you want.” Tom stated at he looked at James. “James, we’re actually Dave and James Franco.”

“Who’s who?” James humored you, well aware of the way you and Tom acted in interviews.

“I’m clearly the James.” You mumbled as you smoothed your dress.

“Dave is more attractive.” Tom shrugged sassily and you made a face at him.

“Can we start the game?” James playfully interrupted and you and Tom sat up straight.

“Yes, sorry.” You nodded as James began to explain the rules of the game. You’d seen the bit enough times to know how to play, so you tuned James out a little. You didn’t mean to, you just had a lot on your mind lately. There was something you needed to tell Tom and you hadn’t found the right way to do it yet.

“The first question is for Y/n and since I love her so much I’m going to give her the hot sauce.” James smiled wickedly as he got the hot sauce in front of you.

“Mmm.” You said sarcastically and grimaced at the camera.

“Who got the drunkest at your wedding?” James read off the card before looking at you. You pursed your lips as you thought about the answer before chuckling.

“Probably Tom.” You laughed as you pointed at your husband who was sat across the table from you. His face lit up with laughter as he folded his arms.

“Yeah, I was gonna say. Ryan Reynolds and I had a drinking competition that I definitely won.” He said smugly, making the audience cheer.

“I never imagined I’d be standing by Blake Lively’s side on my wedding day, screaming “CHUG” at my husband, but I’m glad it happened. You made me proud.” You said to Tom with a fond pout on your face.

“Aw.” Tom held his hand over his heart as you stared at each other lovingly.

“Gross.” James deadpanned, making the two of you laugh.

“Next question is for Tom and I am going to give you the cockroaches.” You said as you spun the table. “Love you, honey.”

“It’s looking at me.” Tom gagged as he picked up a cockroach and quickly dropped it back in the little glass bowl.

“How dare that slutty, dead cockroach stare at you.” You joked. “Tell it you’re married.”

“I swear, you two are the strangest couple I had ever sat with.” James shook his head as he laughed.

“We get that a lot.” You and Tom said in unison.

“Okay, Tom, who is the most unprofessional Avenger on set?” You read off your card before setting it back on the table.

“Ooo. That’s a tough one since they’re all so badly behaved.” Tom clicked his tongue and the audience laughed gleefully.

“No, I’m joking.” He smiled at the reaction. “I’m gonna go with Evans because he’s pretty much a ten year old. Like, he carries around one of those tiny skateboards - what are they called?”

“Tech Decks.” You told him.

“Yeah. He carried around a Tech Deck and runs it over everyone’s arms when we’re blocking scenes.” Tom explained as he did the motion of the mini skateboard on the table.

“I have also seen him covered in Cheeto dust countless times.” You added. “He will straight up come to set with orange fingers. He is the opposite of Captain America.”

“I hate that. We call them Wotsitz in England and it makes me cringe.” Tom shuddered as he moved the table. “James, I’m gonna give you the bird saliva.”

“It looks warm.” James commented as he picked it up to examine it. “That’s so unsettling.”

“Ick.” Tom grimaced and picked up a card. “James, which guest would you not invite back to the show?”

The audience reacted accordingly and you raised your eyebrows at the host.

“I can’t answer that.” James held his hand over his mouth as he stared at the bird saliva in front of him.

“Then why do you get asked that in every installment of Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts?” You asked bluntly, making the audience laugh.

“That’s an excellent question and I’m going to think about it while I drink this bird saliva.” James looked you right in the eyes as he took a sip from the small glass. You cringed when he swallowed it and immediately went to take a sip of water.

“Ew. Is it thick?” You wondered as he coughed into his elbow.

“You don’t want to know.” James said hoarsely, shaking his head.

“Do I go now?” Tom asked, already forgetting the order of turns.

“Yes, you pick for Y/n.” James told him as he wiped his mouth.

“Okay.” Tom smiled deviantly and spun the table. “I’m gonna give you the turkey testicles because I know how much you love-“

“Tom.” You cut him off with a stern look.

“Turkey burgers.” He finished his sentence. “She loves turkey burgers.”

You squinted your eyes at him as he laughed devilishly.

“I’m about to walk out.” You threatened him once your fate was put in front of you.

“It’s not a true interview with us unless one of us threatens to leave.” Tom noted as he picked up his card. “Who do you think is the smallest Avenger?”

“Oh, definitely Mackie.” You answered confidently, relieved you didn’t have to eat the “food” in front of you.

“But he’s taller than me.” Tom tilted his head in confusion and your eyes widened.

“Oh you meant height?” You asked, fully misunderstanding the original question. The audience erupted into laughter and you felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“WHAT?” James asked as he wiped tears from his eyes.

“I thought you were asking about something else.” You said sheepishly as you shrunk in your seat.

“This is CBS.” He reminded you and you have an apologetic grin.

“Next question.” You requested, wanted to move on from your lapse in judgment.

“This ones for Tom and I’m giving you the salmon smoothie.” James decided. “Tom, how much did you get paid for Spiderman: Far From Home?”

“Enough to put a 20 karat ring on Y/n’s finger.” Tom response was immediate and you lit up in delight. You held your hand up to your ear so the camera could see it.

“With matching earrings.” You said coyly before letting out a laugh, all while Tom watched you with a childlike grin.

“My turn. I’m gonna give you the tarantula. James.” You decided and picked up a card. “Who was your least favorite guest on Carpool Karaoke?”

You held the card to your chest as you looked at him expectantly, knowing he’d never answer it.

“I can’t answer that.” He shook his head. “I have an answer but I can’t say it.”

“When you met Lin Manuel Miranda, did he bite his lip?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Tom burst out laughing at you, knowing exactly what you were talking about.

“Oh my God. She’s obsessed with that one picture of the guy.” Tom explained.

“It’s so funny. EUHYYYHY WE WERE MARRIED THAT NIGHT.” You imitated the countless singing videos of Lin Manuel Miranda you’d seen on Tik Tok that left you in tears of laughter every night.

“I hear this everyday.” Tom told James as you laughed at yourself.

“I can’t. I can’t. Sorry Lin.” You giggled again before calming down.

“Lin was perfectly lovely and we would love to have him back.” James brought the conversation back to the question. “I have an answer but I just can’t say who it was.”

“Then you better put that spider in your mouth.” Tom nodded towards the spider.

“It’s easy. I do it all the time. Wink wink.” You gave the camera an over exaggerated wink.

“Oh My God. Every time.” Tom scolded you as you made yet another innuendo.

“It smells horrible.” James whined as he leaned down to sniff the tarantula.

“Well it’s a dead bug. Were you expecting Japanese Cherry Blossom?” You sassed him.

“Oh God. Here we go.” James plugged his nose and took a tiny bite of the spiders leg.

“How is it?” Tom wondered as he watched in disgust. “Is it crunchy?”

“It’s gooey.” James told him before wiping his face with his napkin.

“I could’ve told you that.” You shrugged, causing Tom to give you a stern look that told you to behave.

“Stop it.” He couldn’t contain his laughter. “Who’s turn is it?”

“It’s my turn to ask Y/n.” James said as he looked around the table for what hadn’t been used yet.

“Fire away.” You said casually despite the butterflies in your tummy over what he could possible ask you.

“Okay Y/n, I’m gonna give you the grasshoppers.” You bit your tongue between your teeth as James moved the table towards you.

“Delicious.” You grimaced as you poked around in the bowl of grasshoppers.

“Y/n, if you had to date one of Tom’s brothers to save his life, which would you pick?” James read off the card and the audience murmured with anticipation.

“How would I get into that situation?” You stalled your answer, knowing you’d have to pick between hurting Toms feelings or eating a bug.

“And how do I prevent her from getting into that situation?” Tom added, making you laugh. He was trying to keep his cool but you knew the question bothered him.

“You have to answer the question or get to eating. Come on now, before they hop away.” James joked, making the audience laugh. You stared into the bowl of grasshoppers and knew there was no way you could put it on your mouth without throwing up. You gulped and looked at your husband, giving him an apologetic pout before looking at James.

“I guess Sam.” You said weakly and quickly moved the grasshoppers away from you.

“Why Sam?” James asked, always trying to get the best response he could.

“That’s not the question.” You quipped as you taped the card with your fingernail.

“I want to know too.” Tom spoke up, making your stomach drop. You shrugged and folded your arms to look relaxed.

“He was the first one that came to mind and I don’t think you’d want me to sit here and go over the pro’s and con’s of dating all your brothers. Plus, he’s a great chef.” You answered, and to your surprise, Tom smiled.

“That’s true.” He nodded. “Good job, baby.”

“Thank you.” You blew him a playful kiss which he caught and then pretended to throw away to get a laugh. You shot him a look before returning your attention to the table.

“Stop it.” You warned. “Who’s turn is it?”

“It’s your turn, Mrs. Holland.” Tom said, always taking the opportunity to call you that.

“Okay. I’m gonna give you the bulls penis.” You said lovingly as you moved the table.

“You’re too kind, my love.” He teased as it landed in front of him.

“I know. It’s my gift since you always give me the-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Tom cut you off. “I don’t even want to know how it ends.”

“Fine. I won’t.” You gave the audience a pointed look and they laughed at your antics. You picked up your card and read the question, immediately laughing at what it asked. You were about to read the question when an idea popped into your head. Tom noticed the way your expression changed and sensed something was up.

“Oh no. I’m scared already.” He smiled nervously as you looked at the card again. Finally, you looked Tom in the eye and gave him a soft smile.

“Are you excited to be a father?” You asked the question that had been weighing on your mind ever since you took a pregnancy test in an airport bathroom two days ago. You wanted to break the news in a memorable way, and constantly being on planes or in cars made that difficult.

This show, however, made it easy.

Toms face melted from a playful smile to wide eyes at your question. The audience quieted down as everyone waited for Tom’s response.

“What?” He asked slowly, studying your face closely to see if you were joking.

“That’s what it says.” You put it simply, makes Toms face shift into a smile. James took the card fork where you had set it down, knowing damn well his writers hadn’t put that as a question, and read it.

“This card says “how big is it?”” James read off the card as he looked at you, making you chuckle slightly.

“I took a creative liberty.” You shrugged. Tom and James looked at each other, both thinking the other was up to something.

“Are you pregnant?” Tom leaned closer to you from across the table to ask.

“You don’t get to ask a question until you’ve chosen what food I have to eat.” You reminded him as you gestured to the table.

“Not to make this about me, but It’s also not your turn.” James threw in a joke as he watched the drama unfold.

“Cow tongue.” Tom said quickly and shifted the table so the cow tongue was in front of you. He looked up at you with all the hope in the world as you gagged at the tongue. “There. Are you really pregnant?”

“Oof.” You blew out a breath. “That’s a toughy.”

“That’s a toughy?” Tom asked in exasperation. You could see his leg bouncing under the table from anticipation but you wanted to drag it out just a little longer.

“Yeah. I mean, I really want to tell you, but this cow tongue also looks really good.” You teased him, making him let out a whine.

“She’s got a point, there.” James nodded, squeezing your hand under the table to congratulate you.

“No she doesn’t!” Tom exclaimed. “Baby? Are you actually pregnant?”

You knew Tom couldn’t take the suspense anymore and broke into a grin.

“Yes.” You told him. “I’m pregnant. We’re pregnant.”

“Really? We’re gonna have a baby?” Toms eyes welled with tears as he covered his mouth with both his hands. He’d been wanting to start a family for a while now but you hadn’t had any luck in conceiving.

Until now.

“Yeah, honey. We’re gonna have a baby.” You reached across the table and rubbed his hand with your thumb before pointing finger guns at the camera. “Keep watching to find out who the father is!”

The audience, who had been busy cheering at your news, switched to laughter.

“She’s kidding. It’s me.” Tom assured the audience.

“He’s kidding.” You insisted. “It’s Benedict!”

“Congratulations to the both of you.” James said sincerely. “I think that just about wraps this up this segment. My producer is going to be very happy with me for getting that information out of you without even asking.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at him as he leaned in to press a congratulatory kiss on your cheek. Tom finally broke out of his shocked state and got out of his chair, rushing to you and practically pulling you out of your seat to hug you. His hug was firm but gentle all at the same time, especially around your tummy. He pressed your face into his neck and you heard him sniffle, making you take his hand and put it on your tummy.

“We have about three minutes of commercial break. Excellent job guys.” James said as he got out of his seat. “That was definitely the best Spill Your Guts we’ve ever done. I might have to hire Y/n as a writer here.” He joked.

“Thanks for having us James. All three of us.” You said as you pulled away from Tom. Tom kept a protective hand on your tummy as you rubbed circles on his back.

“I can’t believe you’re pregnant. I’m so happy for you both. That’s beautiful.” James shook Toms hand to congratulate him as well.

“Well when you plank all over someone and don’t use a-

“That’s enough.” Tom cut you off but kept his smile on. “That’s enough for today.”

You leaned into him and took his hand, kissing the back of it as you all walked back towards the main stage.

“Can you believe we met planking on each other for a video and now we’re having a baby?” You asked him.

“I know.” He shook his head in pleasant shock. “We should name our baby BBC, since we met at BBC radio 1.

“You suggesting that tells me you don’t know the other meaning of BBC.” You laughed as you took a seat on James’s couch.

“What’s the other meaning?” Tom looked at you in confusion. You laughed gleefully and patted Toms cheek, always delighted by his innocence.

“Oh, Tom.” You sighed. “I’ll let you google that one.”

Tag List 🏷

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #plank all over me #tom holland imagine #tom holland interview #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #marvel #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x pregnant!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

3K notes · View notes

nameless-shrimp · 3 years

Text

ONE QUICK DESTINATION || OSAMU DAZAI

PAIRING: Osamu Dazai x GN! Reader

TYPE: one-shot

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNINGS: none

SYNOPSIS: Dazai asks you to make a stop somewhere before you both head home.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: soft dazai, soft dazai, soft dazai, SOFT DAZAI. btw i am sorry if this sucks i just wanted to write soft dazai to comfort myself, okay, hehehe

The sun was setting, near the peak of its set where the vibrant warm colors were fading into its soft mist of navy blue. From the horizon, your eyes trailed from the road for a brief moment. City lights of nearby bars of Yokohama glimmered on sight; a yawning Dazai on the passenger seat while he fiddled with the radio. Old 90's music playing in a gentle whim—more so to keep the background noise to settle in with the drive home.

"Mind if we stop for a bit?"

Raising an eyebrow, you turned to Dazai. A cocky smirk on his lips before pleading into his large eyes. The same damn look he'd throw at you to cause your stomach to turn into a pit of cartwheels. Sighing, you nodded and asked, "what's the destination?"

"A nearby gas station," he clicked his tongue. "Let's get some snacks, my love."

Unsure of his odd request, you decided to go along with it anyway. Because it was Dazai; the man you were in love with, yet also, found annoyance in every time he invaded your space. (Sure enough, even Kunikida lectured you about teaching the man proper manners to take his work seriously.)

Gas station lights flickered from afar; parking the car near the entrance, Dazai hopped out in a flash. Tan trench coat swayed too quickly along with the faint breeze before he ran into the store as you blinked.

Too exhausted to enter in, so you rest your arm against the edge of the open window. Eyes gazing out to the empty parking lot. A ghost town. Ironically, even for—your eyes darted to the time depicted on the car radio—only it to be ten minutes past eight in the evening.

You yawned, fiddling with the radio in hopes of finding a low upbeat song to make the attempt of you getting some type of energy to drive. God. Knowing your lover, Dazai was the unexpected; twiddling thumbs and flicker of his flirty smile was enough to swoop your heart up.

(Even though, he really did the most.)

The door opened before you looked over to your right, watching your lover rummage into the passenger seat with plastic bags in his hands. Glass clanking inside one of them; clearly signaling that he must've bought alcohol—or some type of drink—along with the bags of chips that peeked out from the bags.

"You know we were going to go grocery shop—"

"I actually have another request, baby," Dazai said, putting the bags in the back seat of the car. Fighting back a tired sigh, he grinned cheekily; that genuine smile that caused you to smile back, regardless of your mood, and he fell back into his seat. "Follow my directions. I'll tell you where to go."

A laugh trailed out from your lips. "You're not going to kill me, are you?"

Dazai gasped jokingly. "You think I would ever commit such an act? How cruel, love."

Shaking your head, you exhaled. "Directions?"

And Dazai informed you of where to go, even in the midst of opening a bag of chips every so often before feeding you one while you rested at a stoplight. During some moments, he'd play a song from your phone in the car that reminded you of him—regardless of its cheesy satire, Dazai found amusement in it. Perhaps it was the blush tickling your cheeks as you turned away every so often.

Little did you know that you fluttered his heart as well. And after turning left three times, with you driving up a hill, he'd reward you with a bite of a crunchy chocolate bar that he'd share with you. Joyous laughter pooling his lips; the taste of milk chocolate on the tip of his tongue. Though he'd rather allow himself to have that taste be engulfed down your throat—but that'd be for a later time, he supposed.

You were driving up a hill and he changed the song after continuous soft pop music filled the atmosphere of the car. The sun had died down long ago; night crept in. A full moon. Stars bouncing on the clouds. Dazai watched the sky, watching the shadows of trees blind the view of the moon above. Most likely calling out to him from afar; for what words, he didn't know. Nothing mattered to him.

He turned to you; eyes squinted from the darkness of the forest due to the lack of streetlights. Only you mattered to him. His heart fluttered.

"Okay, where are we going?" You asked, tilting your head as your hands gripped on the steering wheel tighter. "You're not trying to kill me, are you?"

"You're funny, baby," he chuckled, gnawing on the chocolate bar. "Just a whittle longhur—"

"What?" You let out a laugh. "Swallow then speak, silly."

He licked his lips and grinned. "You just want another bite."

"Sure," a roll of your eyes answered his mental question. "Gimme."

He reached the candy bar closer to you as you took a quick bite of it before stopping at a stop sign.

Dazai watched you cover your mouth as you ate, looking at the surroundings near the both of you. At one point, he talked about how he saw a crowd of raccoons running across the bushes laid out amongst the green of nature. So random. Yet adorable all at once. Not that you minded.

After ten minutes of an old rock song filling in the ambiance of Dazai's crunching as he shared his other bag of chips with you, your eyes opened largely at the city of Yokohama laid out below you. Realizing you had driven up a high hill, you watched alongside the empty parking lot that you pulled in. A smiling Dazai close to your side. He asked you to park the car.

So, you did.

Adjusting your seat, you watched the lights below that made up the city for what it is. Each building lit up the darkness that surrounded the whole city; a crowd of attractions filled with endless poetry and stories that were unknown to strangers that lingered on every corner of each street. Mystery tales with hidden endings. A citizen with their own life; curiosity would kill the cat for some, even for you, watching the movements of the lights flicker as your eyes flutter to a blink.

"Let's sit in the back, shall we?" Dazai noted and you obliged. Both of you made your way to the back seat, and on cue, he immediately grabbed ahold of your figure while he rested his back against the side of one of the car doors. Head planted on the cool window. His eyes trailed alongside the lights that you were just gazing upon. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"This is what you wanted to show me..." your voice slowly fanned out a breath. Words weren't used to describe the magical view from up above; neither of you ever basked in Yokohama from this high up together. Even so, a new experience for you—not that you minded, with your boyfriend intertwining his fingers with yours. A tight knot.

"It's truly beautiful just like you, my love," Dazai whispered before planting a quick kiss on your cheek. He adjusted his position as he swung an arm to the trunk of the car.

You watched him throw over a loose blanket on top of you, where you smiled at the faint bit of warmth covering your legs before he tightened his grip on you. Back close to his chest. Chin resting on your shoulder. Nose nudging into the pillar of your neck.

"You're so warm," he chuckled before keeping his grasp on you tight. A dance of his fingers near your hips caused you to squirm into a fit of laughter, causing the ring of your echo to fill up the empty void of the car—not minding the music still casually playing on its low volume—and Dazai grinned, shutting his eyes in delight. "Absolutely breathtaking; that's what you are. God, I'm in love with you, belladonna."

Your head swung back; dark tousled mocha hair tickling the tip of your nose. The scent of his chocolate from before made its way to capture your attention. Letting out a yawn, your arms stretched. "You're too good to me," you said, shaking your head around near the column of his neck. "Stop that."

"I don't think so, silly," Dazai laughed before poking your hip as you flinched at the touch. "You're too adorable for me to stop. I think I'll keep holding onto you for a while longer."

You smiled before your eyes softened into a close. "I don't want you to let go."

"I don't plan on letting go, my love."

"Promise?"

He shook his head before keeping a smile painted on his lips. Facial expression etched into a sketch filled with adoration; happiness hidden within the glow of the golden acrylic in his eyes. Dazai leaned in, kissing you passionately on the lips; thumb trailing alongside your skin before you felt his grasp on you get closer to his chest.

"I promise, love," he breathed alongside your lips. Your eyes were still dazed; lost in exhaustion, nearly on the brink of sleep. "One night, I will propose to you and the moment you say 'yes', then I will forever know that I can be happy with you for the rest of my life."

You held back a laugh. "What makes you think I'll agree to marry you?"

"Well, ouch," he gasped dramatically. "Am I that too much to handle?"

"Sometimes."

"I know you love me."

A grin rose on your flushed face. "I love you very much, Dazai."

"Good," he kissed your nose before your figure slowly fell deeper into his body though your position was more laid down onto the—somewhat—comfortable seats of the car. "Someone's tired."

Not wanting to respond, you only hummed and slapped him playfully on his hand. The way you always messed around with him—regardless of Dazai's silly antics, he'd fall in love with you more. Nonetheless, the way you caused his heart to dance; heartstrings strung along with a melody that he couldn't forget. On tune, on repeat—a love that wasn't broken on record.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips against your head before the back of his head met with the car window once again. The city lights never failed to amaze him; a beautiful view it was. White flickers of illumination mixing in with a dash of midnight despite the time only being close to 10 PM. Wallowing in sheer joy; a lovely moment of darkness descending amongst the tall buildings to its smaller shops below.

Dazai glanced down at you; soft breaths leaving your lips as your eyes stayed to a tight close. Lips parted with a flushed face—most likely flustered by his usual flirtatious acts—and he smiled, keeping your head close to his chest. Let the sound of his heart beating be enough to have a pretty dream flutter its way into your mind.

He smiled while petting your head.

"Get some rest, baby," Dazai said before looking back at the steering wheel.

He chuckled to himself.

"Looks like you'll have to trust me to drive us home safely tonight."

tags: @whorefordazai @tender-rosiey @internetkilledtheroxstar @sadcannibal @bsdparadise @pompompurin1028 @dazais-osamu @tetsustation @milky-toast @missrown @requiem626k @jessbeinme15 @kyuus4ku @so-chile @kiyokoxd

#and then dazai drives you both off the cliff #the end :D #lmao jk #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #osamu dazai x reader #bsd dazai x you #bsd dazai x reader

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alonelysimp · 3 years

Text

For You, Anything

Characters: Kamisato Ayaka x GN! reader

WC: 1003

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Descriptive mention of food, Unedited

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Word vomit, No beta we die like hilichurls, New relationship

Song: (open any Ghibli playlist + kimi no na wa + nakitai watashi wa neko o kaburu)

A/N: surprise my love language is physical touch and I had to bonk myself so many times to keep from mentioning a forehead kiss or a hug-

“I’ve missed being with you like this,” she mumbles, her hand squeezing yours. Her voice is soft, almost drowned out by the grass gently rustling in the wind. Graceful, as petals may float upon a pool or as a heron may perch beside a lakebed. You hum and squeeze her hand back.

“Like what?” She sighs. Her pace slows, just barely a walk now.

“It’s… my duty… as lady of the Kamisato Clan to represent the Yashiro Commission, but...” Her voice trails off and she comes to a stop. The air stills, as if the world were holding it’s breath waiting for her to continue. Her eyes cast downward, a soft pink dusting the tips of her ears. “I cannot be as open with my true feelings, as I can with you.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “I wish to be more open, someone the people of Inazuma can trust, and yet I can only be like this with you. Where does the daughter of the Kamisato Clan end, and my true self begin?” You step closer, adjusting your hand to intertwine your fingers with hers.

“To me, you are Ayaka. Not the lady of the Kamisato Clan, or the Shirasagi Himegimi. Just Ayaka. The pretty girl at the festival, in the blue kimono with a kitsune mask that I watched the fireworks with.” She relaxes at your words, a smile returning to her face. The breeze stirs the sakura blossoms that line the path. “And I missed being with you too.” You gently nudge her hand forward, prompting her to walk again.

Fog settles around you as you near the forest’s edge. Bake-danuki statues line the pathway, appearing on the rocks in clusters. From afar, you can hear their song to tempt travelers towards them for a harmless trick.

“The forest is beautiful this time of year.” You can only nod and watch in amazement as the fireflies flit in and out of view in the blue haze. If you weren’t just outside a minute ago, you would’ve sworn it was night.

Her hand releases yours, running down the path and crouching just beside it. You hurry up to her, crouching down beside her. She holds a flower in her hand, one recently picked, and turns to you. Her hand reaches toward your hair hesitantly, letting you pull away if you wanted, but you remain still. She tucks the flower into the hair above your ear, fingers gently working it to stay put.

“There.” A smile falls on her lips, and you swear your heart does backflips in your chest. She looks ethereal in the blue light filtering through the leaves and the fog. Her hair glows, almost, and she… she’s�� “I’m sorry, y/n. Do you want me to take it out?” Her voice brings you back to reality. Her brows are pressed together in concern. You reach up to touch your face, eyes falling on the ground, feeling tears roll down your cheeks.

“Oh…” You smile at the thought, albeit a bit cheesy. Her beauty, it brought you to tears. You look back up to her, seeing the tension in her expression lessen slightly at the sight of you smiling, despite the tears that fall. “You’re beautiful, Ayaka.”

Her hand draws closer to your face, hovering just above your cheek. Warmth radiates off it slightly, barely warmer then the slightly cooler air around you. You press your face against her hand, silent permission for her to gently wipe the tears from your eyes.

She helps you stand back up, leading you by the hand over the river. She sat on a rock in the clearing beside a cooking pot, left behind by a certain trio of chefs.

“I hope you don’t mind letting me cook today, I learned some recipes I want to try out. You shake your head, taking a seat beside her.

“You’ve improved a lot. I trust it’ll be good since you made it.” She smiles and pulls ingredients out of her bag.

“Turn around, I want it to be a surprise,” she huffs in amusement. You roll your eyes playfully, complying to her shenanigans.

A flower brushes against your foot as you turn to sit the other direction. It makes a soft noise as you pick it. Within a few minutes, you had the beginnings of a flower crown, braiding the stems of the flowers together. The silence that sat between the two of you is comfortable, simply basking in each other's presence.

She hums, tapping your shoulder. “Close your eyes, I want you to guess what it is.” You set the flower crown in your lap, turning to her with your eyes closed. You hear something crunchy cracking, and something not moist, but not dry either get moved around. It's spicy, that much you can smell, and the smell of sir fried ham has been making your mouth water.

The heat radiates off the chopsticks she holds out in front of your lips, not so hot it would burn you but not so cold it would taste weird. A smile tugs at your lips and your mouth closes around the chopsticks. It’s fiery at first, the sheer spiciness taking you by surprise which leaves as soon as it comes, leaving you with only the reminiscent flavour as the spices burst through the dying flames. The ham is crispy, a salty sear on the outside giving way to a mildly flavoured, juicy interior. A dry piece crunches in your mouth, a faint flavour of rice mixing with the other flavours that leave your mouth warm.

“...Can I have more?” She giggles, giving you another bite of her dish. “What is it?”

“A recipe I got from the traveler. They said it was a Liyuean specialty, jueyun guoba.” You open your eyes, seeing a warm blush on her cheeks and a dish in one hand, chopsticks in the other.

“It’s delicious, you should make it more.” She smiles and nods excitedly.

“For you, y/n, anything.”

Woah it has been a long minute since i posted- thinking abt putting the banner above the cut? how are we feeling abt it? Also I'm in love with Ayaka !!

#Ayaka #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn!reader #ayaka x reader #ayaka x gn!reader #gn!reader #kamisato ayaka x reader #Kamisato Ayaka x gn!reader #genshin fluff #ayaka enjoyers i will feed you content #even if its unedited and i wrote this instead of working #ilyall #yall have amazing taste in women #ill be writing for the xinyan tag next bc its deserted <//3

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takenyoomies · 3 years

Text

Title: Summer Birthday: Chifuyu

Pairing: Chifuyu x Reader Genre: Fluff

Tags: Food, Chifuyu, Some Canon Compliance, Chifuyu can't cook...

Summary: When you think that Chifuyu has ditched you on your birthday, you get a surprise on your doorstep...

Word Count: 2170

Was originally written for one of my close friend's birthdays.

Summer brought several things, such as thunderstorms, fireworks, and the sightings of fireflies at dusk. Summer also happened to be the season when your birth took place. As you watched another rerun of a TV show, you once again unlocked your phone, though knowing there wasn’t much point in doing so.

Chifuyu

Sorry, there’s an important meeting tonight, and I can’t make it over.

You

It’s okay...Be safe!

Chifuyu

I promise I’ll make it up to you y/n

You

Heaving a heavy sigh, you pulled the plush blanket up higher on your chest. Making plans with Chifuyu usually wasn’t tricky, and when it came to events, he was on top of things. It was odd for him to skip out on you, especially on your birthday of all days. You shook your head, not allowing those feelings to get in the way of the marathon of your favorite series. What did, however, get in the way of the marathon was a knock at the door.

Huh, I wasn’t expecting anyone...I wonder if someone sent me flowers…

You rose from your cocoon-like state on the sofa, stretching out a bit as you strode over towards the door. Peeking through the window, your mood instantly improved when you saw a somewhat nervous-looking Chifuyu shuffling in place outside. Unlocking the latch, you opened the door.

“What are you doing here? I thought you said-” You started, laughing a bit when Chifuyu held up both hands in a “hold up”-esque gesture.

“So, about that…” He began, a small yet warm smile tugging at his lips. Your hands rested on your hips in suspicion as you noticed a canvas bag set behind him, filled to the brim with various things.

“What’s in the bag?” You asked inquisitively.

Chifuyu laughed a bit, “I can’t keep anything from you, hm?”

“It’s right there ‘fuyu.” You giggled, pointing at the bag with an index finger. He pouted a bit, picking up the bag.

“I guess you’re right!” He beamed, “Can I come in?”

You shook your head, “No, Chifuyu, you can’t come in, even though I told you nearly two weeks ago that I was doing nothing today…” You began, his face becoming downcast, “Yes, you can come in.” You finished with a sigh and a snort of a laugh.

The sandy-blond boy crossed his arms, “Don’t joke like that.” He huffed as he reached down to pick up the bag before walking through the doorway, “Surprise, by the way.”

You blushed, looking to the side, “So, what are we doing today?” You asked out of curiosity as you closed the door, locking it behind yourself.

Chifuyu hummed in amusement, “Well, I thought we could have dinner together...and since you always talk about spaghetti…” He trailed off, reaching into the bag and pulling out a box of noodles, “I thought we could make it together?”

You blinked, thinking a moment about the situation in front of yourself, “Chifuyu.” You started with a deep breath.

“Yeah?”

“The last time you attempted to bake a cake with me, we caught the oven on fire.”

He pursed his lips, “Okay, but we’re going to forget about that for now.” Chifuyu offered with a nervous smile.

“Not so fast. Might I add the time we tried to make yakisoba?” You stifled a laugh.

“Please don’t bring up the-” Chifuyu attempted.

“The noodles were crunchy.” You interrupted, using your hands to gesture.

“...So how about you do the cooking, and I do the prepping,” Chifuyu stated as he started to walk toward the kitchen.

“Anything that will prevent me from scrubbing for 2 hours on my birthday.” You joked, Chifuyu sticking his tongue out at you in protest.

As both of you arrived in the kitchen, Chifuyu laid the canvas bag onto the kitchen table. He reached a slender hand inside to pull out the spaghetti, basil, olive oil, garlic, and a pint of cherry tomatoes. You sneakily snagged a tomato out of the pint, popping it into your mouth at the protest of the other, the bright acidity bursting on your tongue. You hummed as Chifuyu starred at you, annoyed, gently smacking you on the head.

“Those are for the food.” He stated, shaking his head.

“They’re going to the same place, though.” You replied, a small smile painting your features as you pulled open a drawer, “Do you want an apron, Chef Chifuyu?” You joked, earning a laugh.

“Yes, y/n, I’d love one.”

You picked out two aprons, both surprisingly had cats on them, and walked back over to the blond, handing him one of them with a laugh of your own, “We don’t want-”

“Don’t remind me, that shirt still has that stain in it…” He sighed, tying his apron around himself and then motioning toward you, “I’ll tie your’s.”

“But I can…” You attempted to protest, only to have him take the apron from your hands gingerly, “Okay.”

“It’s your birthday. The least I can do is tie your apron.” The blond spoke warmly, placing it over your head and then tying it around your waist, “Alright, good to go.”

You blushed a bit, staring at the floor for a moment only to look up to meet the other’s pale blue eyes looking inquisitively into your own. Heart jumping into your throat, your feet attempted to back away only to be met with countertop. Nervously laughing, you rubbed the back of your neck, “You scared me.”

Chifuyu raised a brow, “Oh, really?” He questioned, a smug look beginning to make its way onto his face, “It couldn’t have anything to do with being embarrassed, right?”

You inwardly swore, hating that he knew almost everything about how you felt. You eyed the tomatoes once more, attempted to find an escape route from this dreadful bad end that involved being the butt of Chifuyu’s joke for the rest of the night. With great haste, you slid past the blond and snagged yet another tomato from the pint, Chifuyu groaning in displeasure.

“If you eat one more tomato, I’m going to post so many unflattering pictures of you in the group text…” He threatened, fishing his phone out of his pocket as you nearly choked on the tomato. This was not an empty threat. He’d done it before.

“Chifuyu...please…” You begged, his face dark.

“Stop eating the damn tomatoes then!” He huffed, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“Okay…” You agreed, sadly, eyeing the pint of tomatoes.

Chifuyu placed his hands on his hips and stared at the pile of ingredients, “Okay...so we need to chop the garlic, tomatoes, and tear up the basil.” He noted, nodding as he spoke. You smiled a bit at how cute he was when he seemed to have a goal in mind and how dedicated he was to make things work.

“Y/n?”

“Ah, yeah, I’m here!” You replied a laugh, “What is it?”

“I was just saying that we should probably get the water ready. Can you do that for me?” He asked, delegating tasks as he walked over to a cupboard to pick up a cutting board and the counter to grab a knife.

“Yes, of course!” You replied happily, trotting over to the cabinet and picking out a somewhat larger chili pot, and placing it in the sink. Using the knob, you turned the water too hot and allowed it to fill the pot halfway before turning the knob once again to the off position. You’d almost forgotten how heavy the pot was when there was water in it as you carried it over to the stove, the pot making a gentle thud onto the glass top. Then, reaching forward, you turned the dial to HIGH and threw a generous amount of salt inside.

“How’s it coming over there y/n?”

“It’s fine. It’s just putting water on the stove ‘fuyu.” You called back over your shoulder, turning around and seeing he’d made progress with the tomatoes. Then, walking over to him, you took the garlic bulb and smashed it down onto the table. Doing so separated the individual cloves, which allowed you to begin the painstaking task of separating the paper from the actual garlic.

“How many do we need?” You questioned, only to laugh, “How’s tomato town?”

“Just wiped it out.” Chifuyu snorted as he dramatically halved another cherry tomato, “But, maybe 6 or 7 cloves.”

You nodded as you continued to peel the paper off of the white alliums, “When you say 6 or 7, does that mean 10-12?” You questioned. Chifuyu looked up with a questioning look. You sighed, “There’s this Youtuber who says 3-4 cloves of garlic, but then he says you should put more than that all the time.”

“I just follow the recipes.” The blond said, throwing a halved tomato into the container, “Though, I don’t know too many recipes by heart...”

“That’s fine. If you know too many, they all start to blend together, anyways!” You agreed, nodding your head and setting a cleaned piece of garlic to the side.

Before long, Chifuyu had chopped all of the tomatoes and the garlic too. Next, you walked over to the stove, where the water was boiling. Slowly, you placed the noodles into the near vortex of bubbling water that only ceased when the entire pound of spaghetti was added. Next, you reached a hand over to the jar of kitchen utensils and grabbing a spoon. You stirred the spaghetti for it not to stick and become one large amalgamation of noodles.

“I’ll get us the big pan for this.” Chifuyu pointed out, causing you sincere confusion, as you weren’t entirely sure why you’d need another pan. He returned with a high-walled pan that you often used for gyoza. “I promise it’ll work.” He reassured, then noticing the doubt in your eyes. “Listen, my plans aren’t always bad!”

“I have yet to see a good plan from you.” You pointed out, stepping back for him to place the large pan on the stove.

Chifuyu pouted, “What about today?”

“Today isn’t over yet.” You retorted quickly.

“Alright, alright...Fair.” Chifuyu sighed, pouring a bit of olive oil into the bottom of the pan that he had just placed on the stove and allowing it to come up to temperature, “Though, what if it is a good plan?”

“Hmm…” You hummed, swaying your head a bit, “Well, then it’s a good plan.”

“No reward or anything, man...talk about bad luck on my end.” He joked, motioning for you to come forward, “Alright, Chef y/n, it’s up to you.”

“Thanks, though there’s one problem…” You laughed, “Where’s the recipe.”

Chifuyu blinked, “Oh...I was so excited...I didn’t…” He stumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t write it down, but I know it by heart.”

You paused a moment before bursting into laughter, “Wait, you’re joking?”

“No!”

“Oh no!” You gasped, trying to regain your composure as you attempted to wipe away the tears forming in your eyes. You finally did so, though, walked over to Chifuyu, hugging him. You could feel him freeze a moment, though then his arms wrapped slowly around you.

“What’s up?” He asked after a moment, putting his head on top of your own.

“Thanks.” You said softly, nudging into him.

“There are a lot of things you could be thanking me for right now, though you’re welcome.” He laughed, running a hand through your hair.

“Can it just be everything?” You questioned quietly.

He thought for a moment, and internally you wondered if you’d said something wrong, “Chifuyu?”

“Y/n...mind look’in me in the eye real quick?” He asked softly. You almost couldn’t hear him over the sound of the water boiling away as you once again met his gaze.

“It can be everything.” He said with a warm smile that honestly put cinnamon rolls to shame.

You blushed deeply and looked to the side. Your heart was in your ears and your throat all at the same time. You desperately attempted to remain in control of your breathing, though that seemingly was going out the window every passing second.

Chifuyu tilted his head to the side, “Y/n?” He asked in a concerned tone.

“Ah, ha-ha…” You laughed, trying not to lose your sanity, even though it seemed to be waning.

You, however, smelled a bitter odor and realized that you both had been standing there for a long time. The olive oil he had placed in the pan had already gone past its smoke point long ago. The pasta, overcooked. Both of you looked at one another, and then back at the stove and then back at one another.

“So, pizza?” Chifuyu asked in a defeated tone.

“Pizza it is.” You agreed with a laugh.

While your birthday started lonely, it ended up being comfortable and one of the least lonely birthdays you’ve had in a long time. Even if Chifuyu declared pineapple on pizza was delicious.

#imi writes #chifuyu x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers hc #im never writing like this again #chifuyu is so ooc help #cries in ooc #ill sob #chifuyu matsuno #is this chifuyu slander

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

Text

guitar lesson (f.w.)

prompt: the band that the weasley siblings had formed brought new excitement to hogwarts. new music, new

pairing: guitarist!fred weasley x fem! reader

warnings: language, allusions to sex (for like one second)

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is literally just pure fluff. pure cute musical fluff.

George groaned and halted his drumming, “Bloody hell, Ronald, it’s not that hard to get the chord progression right after the third time drilling the song!” he cried out before tucking a drumstick behind his ear. “We go from G to B minor to E minor back to B minor. What is so hard about that?” he scolds his brother who just rolls his eyes. “Do we want to get this right or not?” George looks to the rest of the band comprised of his other siblings.

Ron just retorted simply, “It’s the first time we’ve ran this song in weeks, George. Everyone is rusty. Just give it a rest. We’ll get it right next go. Besides, aren’t we due for a five?” he looks to his sister who gives him eager eyes and a nod, signaling they were in desperate need of a break.

George scoffs at his younger brother and says, “No, you’ll get it right the next go. Which starts now. Ginny, from the chorus. Fred, keep the chords crunchy, it sounds better that way. Ron, don’t fuck it up. Ready?” George directs the band as they all sigh.

They had only been in band practice for an hour and a half and George was already making it a living hell. Sure, it was his idea to form a band and it seemed like a great idea. It was a way to spend more time together, to make music, to meet new people, and blow off some steam. If anything, Fred was the first one to jump on the offer. He knew that it would be a way for his family to bond, but also a way for him to show off his guitar skills that he had been honing for the past few years. Fred had once said, “Ladies love musicians. Especially the guitarists.”

But now it seemed like the band, which once was a low-key, stress free environment has changed wildly. Almost overnight things took a rapid 360. George had managed to book a gig for their band, The Burrow Bangers, at Three Broomsticks for the next weekend. George had convinced Madam Rosmerta to let them have the whole building for the evening for the gig if they promised to bring in the people. Which would not be a problem. Students were itching to see the band of siblings play. But this meant high stakes for the Weasleys. A real gig, paying them real money, to play real music. All they had ever done before was fuck around and play random music that they thought was funny. But this? This was all very new and very different than what they were used to.

With a few strikes of his drumsticks, George yelled out, “A 1, 2, 3, 4!” And the band swelled with music, George keeping rhythm on the drum kit, Fred wailing on his guitar, Ron strumming on the bass, and Ginny belting into the mic.

“She’s a Killer Queen, gunpowder, gelatine, Dynamite with a laser beam. Guaranteed to blow your mind; anytime...” Ginny belted into the mic, her alto voice resonating throughout the room of requirement as Ron and Fred stared at each other, wondering when they would get a break. Fred looked concerned at Ginny who's voice was obviously getting tired from belting for an hour and a half with no water or bathroom break.

Fred drops his guitar and speaks, “Hold on, hold on!” The band fades slowly before George throws up his hands in protest, asking why they stopped. “Do you not hear Ginny’s voice? She’s tired. We’re all tired, Georgie. We’ve been working non-stop for next week’s gig. I don’t think a ten minute break is gonna kill us,” he protests.

George rolls his eyes, “None of you are taking this seriously. We are getting paid for this. People are coming to watch us. Don’t you wanna be decent?” George rises from his seat, searching the eyes of his siblings for some agreement.

Instead, he’s met with concerned eyes and tired expressions. Ginny looked absolutely exhausted, Fred looked exasperated, and Ron was flat out fed up. But all were equally concerned as to why their brother was so gassed up over this gig. George sighs, “I-” Fred gives him a sympathetic smile. “Of course, we wanna be good, Georgie. But we need to balance things out. Let’s all take a break for a while. Reconvene tonight after some much needed rest and we’ll talk details of rehearsals then. Good?”

Ron eagerly nods his head before slipping the bass off from around his body. Ginny turns off the mic and starts out with Ron, talks of what was for dinner in the Great Hall. Fred approaches his twin and places a hand on his shoulder. “What’s bugging you?” he asks, knowing that this behavior wasn’t typical for George. It wasn’t like George to get serious all of a sudden and push everyone to work without a break. Something was up and Fred could read it all over his brother’s face.

Defeated, George sighs. “I don’t know, Fred. I guess I’m getting myself all worked up because I invited Angelina to the show and I wanted to ask to be my girlfriend and I guess I just want things to be perfect for her in a way.” Fred gives his brother a knowing look, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh, shut it, you dickhead,” George laughs, pushing his brother’s shoulder. “You’d do the same if you fancied someone,” he teases Fred as his twin shrugs. “Freddie...you don’t mean to tell me no girl has walked up to you and has told you how hot it was that you played lead guitar in Hogwarts’ premiere band?” he teases.

Fred laughs, “Can’t say anyone has...yet.”

This makes George laugh and shake his brother’s shoulders. “That’s the spirit,” George slings his arm over Fred’s shoulder. The two twins carry back their band equipment as they make their way to the Gryffindor common room. “Seriously, Freddie, I bet I can set you up with one of Angie’s friends. I’ll tell Angie to bring her to the show and she can see just how sexy you look fingering those strings,” George alludes as Fred chuckles.

“Nah, mate, I don’t wanna just have a set up of a date. I want to naturally meet a girl, you know?” Fred tells his twin as George rolls his eyes. Fred was always a hopeless romantic deep down. Although he had some flings in the past and had his fun with shagging a few girls casually here and there, Fred was looking for something more serious now. Someone he could connect with. “I’m not expecting for the perfect girl to be right around the corner, Georgie, but I’m not expecting her to be a-”

Fred stops mid sentence as he feels his body collide with another body as they walk around the corner of the hallway, making Fred and the person he had bumped into stumble back a bit. “Godric, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t pay attention to where I was going,” Fred looks around at the sheet music that was now cast about the floor. “Did I make you drop anything?” Fred asks, now looking up at a pair of eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

There you stood, a little flustered, in a hurry on your way to the library. You were late for a study group with some of your friends from your Charms class and it would be your third time late this week. If you were late again, they would surely give you shit for it. But as you took in who was causing you to run late, you suddenly didn’t mind. “Uh,” you gulp, “I’m alright, don’t worry. I should have watched where I was going. Now I’ve made quite the mess, haven’t I?” you lightly laugh as you crouch down to help him pick up the miscellaneous pieces of sheet music.

Fred joins you on the floor, picking up the scattered sheets. “It’s equally our mess,” Fred gives you a soft smile as you blush lightly.

Fred looks up at George who wiggles his brows as if to say Oh La-La! before he winks at his brother. “Oh, hey (Y/N),” George speaks before continuing to walk down the hallway, giving his dear twin some privacy. Fred shoot his brother a look to say, Mate, what the fuck?

“Hey, Georgie,” you laugh. The two of you continue to pick up the pieces of parchment as you inspect the scribbling on them to be the treble clef. “You’re a musician?” you ask him, referring to the sheets. Fred nods. “What instrument?”

“Guitar,” Fred beams as you widen your eyes and nod. “I’m actually in a band with George and my other siblings,” he tells you. “I didn’t know you were friends with George.”

You hand him a small pile of sheet music before you both rise to your feet. “Yeah, George and I have been friends for a little while. I helped tutor him in Divinations class,” you tell Fred who nods. Fred mentally yells that he wishes George would have told him that he was friends with an absolute stunner of a girl. “I didn’t know that you and George were in a band. That’s really cool,” you tell Fred with a smile.

As you stand before Fred Weasley, you hope he doesn’t know how flustered you were. You had always seen him in the halls with George and admired how charming and handsome he was from a far, but never said anything to him. You could have easily told George that you had a thing for his twin, but you were far too nervous to act on your little crush. You clutched your textbooks closer to your chest as Fred fixed the strap of his guitar on his chest, muscles flexing underneath his shirt as your eyes darting to watch them tug against the thin shirt material.

Fred spoke, “We started the band a couple of months ago. So it’s a pretty recent development.”

You nod your head and awkwardly stand before him before realizing that you were just staring at Fred’s face, admiring how his lips curled into a little smirk when he looked at you. Clearing your throat, you breathe, “Wicked.” Fred chuckles. “I’ve always been fascinated by musicians. I wanted to teach myself how to play guitar, but I’ve never gotten around to it,” you word vomit, instantly regretting the words coming out of your mouth. Damn it, (Y/N), you might as well just tell him your life story, you think to yourself.

With a cheeky smile, you watch Fred’s face light up. “I could teach you,” he suggest as your eyes widen. Fred immediately back pedals. “If you want! I mean, Godric knows that you are probably very busy, but if you ever wanted an instructor, I wouldn’t mind giving you lessons,” he retorts as you can’t help but have a lazy smile appear on your lips. Fred’s heart skips another beat as he gulps. “That’s only if you’d like me to teach you, (Y/N).”

The way he spoke your name made your stomach erupt with butterflies. His voice was like honey as words parted from his lips, the sweetest sounds you have ever heard. You watched his eyes as they looked into yours, monitoring how you reacted to his proposal.

Guitar lessons with Fred Weasley? You would have to be mental if you said no. With a meek smile and you reply, “You really don’t have to, Fred.”

“I want to,” he jumps before clearing his throat, realizing how quickly he answered, making you giggle as Fred blushes a deep red that matched his hair. “I would like to teach you, (Y/N).”

With a nod, you say, “I’d like you to teach me.”

Fred smiles widely. “Wicked,” he breathes out as you look away from his gaze to hide your rosy cheeks. “Just one catch,” he smirks as you furrow your brows. “You have to come to our show next week. At Three Broomsticks. And bring friends.”

Extending your hand, you tease him, “You’ve got a deal.” Fred shakes your hand firmly as you laugh. “I’ll see you around, Fred.”

You start down the opposite direction before Fred calls out. “First lesson is on Thursday! 4pm sharp,” Fred says as you flip around to look at him. “Tardiness is not tolerated,” he winks at you as you roll your eyes before walking away to the library.

As you walked down the corridors, you could help but smile to yourself. Your cheeks tingled from your large grin as you toyed with the edges of your books. The thought of Fred Weasley’s hands guiding yours as he taught you how to play guitar made your heart giddy. You nibbled on your bottom lip at the thought that danced around your head. Suddenly, you didn’t care how late you were to this study group.

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

Thursday rolled around slowly, but surely and Fred was checking himself out in the mirror, combing his fingers through his red hair, brushing the pieces out of his face. He nervously looked at himself in the mirror. Should he have shaved? Was he wearing too much cologne? Should he brush his teeth for a third time?

He frantically ran around his dormitory room, thinking he should change his shirt again. Maybe you liked the color green better than blue. As if the color of his shirt would determine the outcome of this lesson/date. Fred didn’t even know if he could count this as a date.

George tapped out rhythms on his bed frame, watching Fred change his shirt for the fourth time as he shook his head. “Freddie, mate, are you really sweating that much?” he laughed.

Fred shot his twin a dirty look. “No,” he spat. “I just...I like the green better than the blue,” he lied, pulling the green shirt over his head and down his torso. Fred darted to his bed and grabbed his guitar and checked the time on his watch. He had ten minutes. “Good Godric,” he huffed.

“You alright? Haven’t seen you this shaken up since the time you thought you ate puking pastilles before your O.W.L.s,” George laughed as he tapped away on his bed frame.

Fred nervously tapped on his thighs, “I’m fine, George. I, uh, I’m giving (Y/N) a guitar lesson today,” he reveals to his twin who's eyes widen and chuckles, “It’s just a lesson. Nothing else. But I’m bloody nervous about it.”

Sitting up, George speaks, “You got nothing to worry about, mate.” He walks over to Fred and places reassuring hands on Fred’s shoulders. “(Y/N)s a great girl. She’s sweet and funny and proper fit,” George raises his brows as Fred groans. “I’m teasing you, Freddie, calm down. You’ve got nothing to lose. Now get down there and make her swoon.”

Fred was never nervous for dates or flirting with girls. All of that stuff came naturally to him. But for some reason the thought of you was enough to make his stomach do somersaults. The palms of his hands got sweaty when your name was spoken. There was something about you that made Fred Weasley lose his senses and that was hard to do.

Shaking it off, Fred huffs and leaves the dormitory making his way down to the common room. With each step he descended, his heart beat harder and faster against his rib cage. As he came down the stairs, your figure came into view which only made Fred’s mouth dry with anxiousness and excitement. He took a deep breath in and exhaled in attempt to calm himself down. I got this, she’s just a girl, he thought to himself. “4:00 on the dot,” Fred speaks, getting your attention, causing you to turn around to face him with a smile on your lips. “Very punctual, (Y/L/N).”

You take a good look at Fred and think about how effortlessly good he looked. Hunter green t-shirt hung on his tall frame perfectly as he walked over to where you sat on the couch, acoustic guitar in his hands. “Not to toot my own horn, but I was here at 3:55, Weasley,” you joke as he smiles. “Early is on time and on time is late.”

Fred chuckles, “In that case, pardon me for my tardiness. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive someone as foolish as me.”

His smile made your heart flutter and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. His joy was infectious. How could someone be so addictive? “Hmmm,” you pretend to think, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving person.”

Fred places a hand over his heart and feigns relief. “Thank Merlin,” he fans himself as you chuckle. “Alright. You ready to get started?” he asks as you nod your head. “Brilliant, let’s start with the basics...”

After an hour of trial and error, you had managed to learned some chord progressions and strumming techniques from Fred. You had to give it to him; he was a great teacher. He was patient and smart and knowledgable. Not to mention, you loved listening to him talk about music and how passionate he was about playing. When he talked, he spoke with so much heart and life, it made you gently smile as you watched how animated he became. Fred Weasley really was one of a kind.

You were nearing the end of your lesson as Fred showed you how to play an F chord on the guitar. “Best chord,” he spoke as you looked at him quizzically. “F is for Fred, keep up (Y/N),” he teases making you scoff.

He explained the finger placements as you struggled to get it just right. “Wait, my second finger goes where?” you ask again as Fred points to the third string. You adjust and strum as an off-key chord resonates. “Now, that can’t be right,” you laugh as Fred shakes his head.

Fred gets up and moves from the chair in front of you to the seat next to you on the couch. He looks at you and asks, “May I?” He gestures to placing his hand on yours as you shake your head.

Gently, Fred places his hand on yours that holds the neck of the guitar as the other hand rests on your other elbow. Having his body is such close proximity to yours made your breath hitch in your throat as you felt his chest press against your back. Fred’s fingers adjust your placement carefully as if you were made of glass, trying his hardest not to make you break into a thousand bits. “This finger goes on the third string and this one stays on the second,” he lowly instructs. “And now, strum,” he speaks, a smile in his voice.

And so you do, a soft F chord playing as the strings underneath your fingertips hum sweetly. You two let the sound ring a little bit, either one of you not daring to breathe, scared to say or do anything. Just the position that you were in, his hands on yours, his chin resting near your shoulder, your back pressed against his chest. You gulped and exhaled softly. “Pretty,” you smiled.

Fred chuckled softly. “Yes, you are,” he spoke making your heart stop, wondering if he had just spoken those words.

You turn to face him, a questioning look in your eyes as Fred allows a small smirk to dance on his lips. Cheeky bastard, you think to yourself as you smile at him.

The two of you remain in this position, looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Fred’s eyes were a rich brown, like pools of chocolate melting under the summer sun. His eyes were full of playfulness and cheer which made joy course through your veins. Fred Weasley was special.

You didn’t even realize that he was leaning in until his forehead was pressed against yours and you connected the gap between you two, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. As you kissed, he inhaled deeply, cupping your cheek with his hand, bringing you closer to him. His hands were calloused from the guitar strings as they pressed against your soft cheek. You pressed your lips onto his harder as Fred smiled gently into the kiss, enjoying every moment. You were first to pull away, but it didn’t last long, Fred’s lips following yours for another kiss as you giggled lightly. His lips were soft and tasted of sweet cinnamon and you wanted more, like your own drug.

Fred gently pulled away before speaking, “I have a confession.” You hum in response. “I was planning on kissing you this whole time. I was just trying to find a good excuse to sit next to you,” he confessed.

You smiled involuntarily and laughed. “I believe that,” you speak before placing another kiss to his lips quickly. “I also have a confession,” you bite your lip as Fred looks at you confused.

Scooting back a little, you cradle the guitar in your grasp before skillfully strumming a combination of chords that could be recognized as the beginning chords of I’m Looking Through You by The Beatles. Fred’s mouth goes agape and eyes wide as you play better than he could ever. “I lied about not knowing how to play the guitar,” you laughed. “I’ve known how to play since I was ten. I just wanted an excuse to see you again.”

Fred shakes his head in disbelief. “You sneak!” he exclaims. “A woman after my own heart,” he jokes as you laugh before he kisses your cheek. “Well, I guess you don’t need anymore lesson from a git like me. But I still think you should hold up your end of the deal,” he squeezes your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Weasley,” you smile. “Although, I will be coyly judging your skills from the audience.”

Fred laughs, “I’m sure you will be, darling.”

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

After days of rehearsing and planning and scheduling and rehearsing some more, the gig at the Three Broomsticks rolled around. Ginny had managed to convinced the entirety of the Hogwarts quidditch league to come out which already filled the Three Broomsticks at half capacity. But getting more people to come wasn’t a problem. The promise of good music and Butterbeer was enough to have swarms of students flow into the small building.

The Three Broomsticks was soon teeming with people, chatting and drinking and laughing. The energy was high and the Weasleys could feel it from their make shift backstage (which was quite literally a curtain that Ron managed to pin up).

However, this meant that expectations were high which in turn made the band exceptionally nervous. Ginny nervously danced around, doing lip trills to warm up her voice as Ron tuned the bass. George sat at his drumming seat and ran over rhythms in his head, Fred pacing back and forth, biting on his nails.

You shuffled through the audience and found Harry and Hermione sitting at a table in the front as you approached them. You could hear Hermione gush about how hard Ron has been practicing for the gig, a rosy hue forming on her cheeks as Harry poked at her crush. As you approach, Hermione notices you and beams, “(Y/N)! Hi! Are you excited for the concert? You know Ron is playing bass?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Did you know Hermione has a big, fat cru-”

“Shut it, Harry,” Hermione quickly snaps as you laugh. “Anyway, what’s up?”

You smile, “Do you know if Fred is with the others still? I know he was nervous about tonight and I just wanna make sure he’s doing alright.”

Harry looks at Hermione and then back at you. “Yeah, he’s back with the others,” he says as you nod, leaving. But before you can leave, Harry stops you, “Wait, hold on, I didn’t know that you and Fred were....” he looks for the words.

“We’re not officially together, but we’ve been seeing each other,” you confess with a smile. Hermione gives you a teasing glance as she sips on her Butterbeer and Harry nudges her with an ooh. “Oh please. You think you two are slick? Everyone knows Harry fancies Ginny and Hermione is practically head over heels for Ronald,” you teases as they both wear bright red cheeks. “Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you laugh. “I’ll see you both in a minute.” You make your way to the back of the Three Broomsticks, behind the curtain to find a nervous band of siblings. Ginny catches your glances first and a smirk comes onto her lips. “Oh, Freddie,” she sing songs. “You have a guest.”

Fred turns around to face you and relief washes over his face as your heart skips a beat. Fred looked good sporting dark wash jeans and a black henley. Simple, but Godric, it was enough to make you swoon. Fred grabbed your hand and walked you over to the corner for a little more privacy. “I’m glad to see your face,” he spoke before bending down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I told you I wouldn’t miss it,” you squeeze his hand. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugs and gives you an awkward smile as you blurt out a laugh. “I don’t know,” he joins in. “Nervous? Excited? Weird? All three?”

You reach up and brush his hair out of his face as he relaxes under your touch. Just the simple gesture was enough to calm him down instantly. “It’s alright to feel like that. You are gonna be bloody brilliant. All of you,” you tell him sincerely. “You’ve been working so hard and you are all so talented. You’re gonna knock the audience’s socks off. I have no doubt in my mind,” you encourage him.

Fred smiles and without another word, he pulls you in by your waist to press your lips to his. You wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss him sweetly. His lips are pressed against yours firmly, but sweetly with passion. His touch was enough to make your head reel. Fred pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, “I’m playing for you tonight. And only you.”

Your heart skips a beat as you smile, staring into his eyes with so much adoration. It had only been a week and a half since you had started seeing each other, but you couldn’t help but have the overwhelming feeling that Fred was the one for you. He was everything you could ever ask for. Charming, kind, handsome, funny, witty. Fred Weasley was it.

“And I’ll be cheering you on the whole time,” you tell him, extending your pinky finger to him as he loops his with yours. The two of you press kisses to your thumbs, making it a pinky promise. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger,” you encourage him. As you walk away, Fred taps you bum playfully as you scurry away, back into the audience with Harry and Hermione.

The three of you buzz about the band and the atmosphere, sipping on Butterbeer before suddenly the audience starts wildly cheering. You turn your attention to the make-shift stage and see the Weasleys all enter. You immediately start clapping and cheering for the band as Ginny speaks into the mic. “Hello, Hogsmeade!” she laughs as the crowd cheers louder. “We are the Burrow Bangers and tonight we’ve got quite the show for you all!” she exclaims as the audience claps and shouts out. You look over at Harry and a wide grin is plastered on his face. “So, without further ado...”

“1, 2, 3, 4!” George bangs on his drumsticks before 80s rock blares through the small inn, the crowd immediately cheering and dancing the sound of the music.

And you had to admit it. They were damn good. They were all in synch with each other and blended so well together. The Weasleys were performers no matter how much they may hate it admit it. Not to mention, Fred looked hot wailing away on his cherry red electric guitar. His fingers skillfully strummed out chords and he musically added riffs when needed which made the crowd roar.

You were overwhelmed with pride at the boy you had taken such a keen liking to you and it was palpable. Fred would catch your eyes every now and then and drop his left eye into a wink, making you blush and cheer louder for him.

Tonight, and every night following, he played for you and you only.

#Fred and George #fred weasley #Fred and Goerge Weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasly x reader #i know fred weasley is such a fucking angel #guitarist fred weasley #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #harry imagine

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bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

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Picnic Date With Howl Pendragon Headcanons

Request: Headcanons for a cute picnic date with Howl? Your other headcanons awoke the Howl lover in me!

I’m so glad it did!! I just 😍 Also I’m sorry if this is awful, but Uni already has me so stressed out!

Comments are always appreciated! <3

Every breakfast time, you had been trying to convince Howl over your cup of tea that the two of you should just go off and spend some time together, away from the castle and away from the war.

It takes a bit of time to convince him. At first, he just raises an eyebrow and takes another chew from his fried eggs, shaking his head and saying he has too much to do to be away from home for too long.

Finally, after yet another shake of his head, you sigh and go back to your bedroom, leaving Howl alone in the kitchen. Calcifer, seeing how silly Howl is being, really lets rip and pretty much makes Howl take you out on a picnic.

He, of course, after a bit of forcing, realises how upset he’s been making you, and that he would do anything to make the person he loves most in his life.

He makes Markl cook the two of you a whole bunch of food, although he does help a bit and ‘oversees’ the cooking, even if he doesn't admit it to you.

Although he did go out to a quaint nearby little market, full of multicoloured cobblestoned streets and fluttering banners, the smell of fresh apples and baked tarts filling his nostrils as he bought a cute wicker basket and tartan blanket from a little old woman.

He sets up the castle door so it leads the two of you into a wonderful, enchanted forest. He links one arm with you, smiling down at you with a look of complete contentment, before he whips his cape behind his shoulder and pulls the two of you into the billowing wind.

The forest hummed with life as you gripped tighter onto Howl’s shaking, oversized dress shirt. You gaze up as he leads the two of you deeper into the canopy, searching for the source of the sweet twirping. The only thing you can see is the bright sun that breaks through the cracks, lighting up the winding path in front of the two of you - little wildflowers brushing against your shoes, and crunchy leaves falling among your steps.

The fragrance of minty grass and deep earth fills each of your breaths like water, fresh and cleansing, cleansing your soul.

Howl laughs as he places his large hands over your eyes, and no matter how much you tug at his fingertips, he doesn’t take them off until the two of you reach an enchanting weeping willow tree, sweeping its branches down over the edge of a babbling brook.

‘Oh, Howl, this is beautiful!’

‘Only the best for you, my star.’

He had placed tinkling little fairy lights over the leaves of the tree, so when he laid the blanket down under its shadows, and held his hand out towards you with a bright smirk, it really felt like something out of a fairy tale.

For the rest of the day, he constantly sneaks warm, long, chaste, lingering, any type of kisses he can get from your lips, remarking how they taste like peach, or blackberry, or whatever the two of you had shared from the basket.

Towards the end of the day, he pulls you into his chest so you were snuggled up under his jutting chin, and he places his long legs on top of yours. He picks blue and violet delicate wildflowers from around his arms, linking them together into a crown and winding it intricately into your hair.

He begins humming a little tune into the warm air - the song you always would sing to him in bed, stroking back his hair behind his ear and littering his cheek with kisses when he can’t sleep or he’s had a bad day.

In the end, when you start to get sleepy in his slender arms, you grab his wrist and pull him down until his head lay on your own lap, his hair spread a shining blonde along your legs like spilled starlight. You start to take little daisies and braid them into his own hair as he just looks up and watches your every movement with awe.

The two of you can’t help but burst out laughing in delight at how you’re now matching.

He also just stops for a moment, when you reach into the basket and pull out some sparkling raspberry cider for the two of you to share, just sitting with a lingering smile on his face as he admires how exquisite you are.

#howl pendragon #howl pendragon imagine #howl pendragon x reader #howls moving castle #howl pendragon headcanons #howl's moving castle #howl imagine #howl x reader #howl fluff #howl's moving castle imagine #studio ghibli

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snowflake-of-destruction · 3 years

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Matchablossom, 22

The vast majority of onlookers were greatly amused by the five year old screaming, "The cake is plastic!" like it was his burden to warn the entire reception hall that they were about to be poisoned. The real trouble was the passionate declaration of, "I don't want to be here! You have to take me home!" as he pulled away from his mother's grip, throwing his entire body into the gesture so he immediately fell to the floor as soon as he broke her hold on his arm.

Eri Nanjo was thoroughly shamed, not just by Kojiro's behavior and how she knew it reflected on her, but by knowing that not everyone would be easily fooled into thinking the next words her son shouted as he threw his flailing temper tantrum, "You don't want to be here either! We're going to grab the most expensive gift from the catalog and get out!" were just something he'd made up with the wild imagination of youth and not some tasteless, glib comment that had first come from her.

Eri tried to calm Kojiro down, quietly, calmly, not causing more of a scene, wishing Kazuhiku was there to play disciplinarian, but the small boy was having none of it. His shirt was strangling him. His mother had told him there was going to be karaoke later, but he wasn't supposed to participate in the singing. Now, he had discovered the pretty cake in the corner with all the decorations was plastic except for a piece for the bride and groom. He was sure he was oppressed. He'd heard his father use that word before. Oppression was a Very Serious Issue, but when Kojiro talked about it, he wasn't taken seriously.

Finally, Kojiro was picked up around the middle with a deep groan and a frustrated tone of, "If you're going to act like a baby, I suppose I'll have to treat you like a baby. We will talk about your behavior at home, and when your father is back from his trip, there will be consequences."

Kojiro could have twisted around more, kicked, made his mother drop him, even gone completely limp and turned himself into dead weight. He didn't. He tensed at first in shock, but then, perhaps just working on automatic instinct while he regained his bearings and plotted his next move, he helped right himself into an easier hold as his mother balanced him against her hip like he was a baby again, and wrapped his arms around her neck. He didn't even keep screaming, stupefied into silence by the indignity of it all (Lying on the floor hadn't been undignified. That was an organized protest from the oppressed).

"They have a plastic cake," he found the words of his best defense after a long moment, softened voice scratching from the previous wailing, begging his mother to consider the dire circumstances that had led him to madness. It would have been anyone's final straw. He wiped not just his nose but his entire face with the back of his sleeve, creating yet another etiquette error. "My hair is crunchy and it makes my brains crunchy too." Eri had put some gooey stuff in his hair to make it smooth instead of sticking up or curling at the back like it liked to. Kojiro was not the biggest fan. "Sorry, Mommy."

He wasn't sure his apology was enough. His mother was smiling again, but it was the type of smile she usually gave really slow cashiers at the store and people with big dogs they met on walks. That was a problem for future Kojiro though. "Your hair looks pretty, Mommy."

"Thank you." Eri patted it with her free hand to make sure the style really was still all in the right place. She wasn't sure how much of a mess she looked after struggling with Kojiro. Her most pressing worry in the moment was his shoes leaving dark marks on her kimono, however--though it was doubtful anything could embarrass her more. "And the cake is plastic so it can be a fancy centerpiece. We'll be served real cake from the kitchen after the bride and groom cut their piece. There's no reason to be upset."

"You should have said," Kojiro replied, regretful, still not for the tantrum, but for the trouble later that could have been avoided. Poor future Kojiro. And poor present Kojiro who was sat down in an uncomfortable chair at a table full of boring looking adults and not only no cake but no food in sight.

There was one other non-adult at the table. Kojiro hadn't seen him at first because he was slumped down in his chair as low as he could go, making it look empty, but then a pretty lady with flowers in her hair had ordered, "Say hello, Kaoru," and a tuft of bright pink hair and a pair of eyes covered by glasses much larger than should have been allowed on such a small face appeared over the edge of the table.

"Hello, Kaoru," the mumbled defiance came from the general direction of the eyes.

The pretty lady apologized, though to Kojiro's mother rather than to him, which adults were always doing.

"You look like a bug," Kojiro informed the eyes, conversationally.

"You look like a dumb monkey," the eyes shot back.

More rebukes and apologies came from the mothers, though the man seated to the left of the eyes let out a warm, booming laugh and pronounced that, "They're making friends! They're boys!"

"He's not a boy. He's a gorilla," the eyes retorted, beating Kojiro before he could call him a bug again.

"Did you make your hair pink to match the cake?" Kojiro swung his legs out as far as they would go, but couldn't reach to kick pink bug boy under the table.

"Yes," Kaoru said, suddenly serious, though only for a moment before he giggled. He scooted up in his chair a bit--possibly because Kojiro was getting closer to kicking him--revealing a lopsided smile that Kojiro found himself returning, even though he had been ready to swear pink bug boy his enemy not even a moment ago.

"Nuh uh," Kojiro shot back. "I know you. You're in my class. You always had pink hair."

"No way! I dyed it," Kaoru insisted. "I don't even go to kindergarten."

"Do too! You always take the best paint set when we do art."

"I need to practice. I'm going to be a famous artist." Kaoru pushed his giant glasses up his nose. "Or an astronaut. Or a robot."

"You can't be a robot when you grow up," Kojiro scoffed. "You build a robot."

"I'm going to build a robot and make it be my friend so I always have one." Kaoru turned serious once more, though this time it seemed a more serious kind of serious to Kojiro, not the joking, lying straight-faced kind of serious--and that made Kojiro's chest hurt for some reason. Kaoru was just a stupid bug boy with pink gum hair, but he should have a human friend. Kaoru's mom did that pursed lip and watery-eyed look adults did when you said something that made them sad, but she didn't say anything to Kaoru, instead talking to Kojiro's mom about "troubles with the move."

"A robot isn't a friend, dummy," Kojiro explained patiently, continuing before the red blotches that rose on Kaoru's bug face could turn into Kaoru yelling at him, and them both getting in trouble, "I can be a friend though. I'll be your best friend. I have two best friends already, but you can be one too."

"You want to be my friend?" Kaoru blinked incredulously.

"That's what I said. Do you have trouble hearing?" Kojiro tried one last time to kick Kaoru, who tucked his legs up on the chair and stuck his tongue out.

"What if I don't want to be your friend?"

The nerve of some bug-people. "I can do five jumping jacks and almost a cartwheel," Kojiro explained his most praiseworthy qualities. "And I am a really good frog catcher."

Kaoru's eyes lit up behind his glasses. "Do you have a pet frog? I have a pet frog. Her name is Carla."

"You should have brought her to the wedding!" Kojiro gasped, sitting up straighter.

"I tried!" Kaoru waved his hands in animated distress. "I wasn't allowed."

"That's dumb," Kojiro commiserated. He bet it was Kaoru's mom that said no. She wasn't as pretty now that he knew she was racist against frogs.

"You're dumb," Kaoru shot back, smiling through the unnecessary insult.

"No, you're dumb," Kojiro retorted, though it was just for the purposes of completing the conversation. Kaoru was cool for a paint stealer with stupid glasses. He had a pet frog. "Look! They have fire!" Kojiro shouted, all at once distracted as he caught sight of the bride and groom going from table to table, lighting candles all over the reception hall.

Kaoru rose up on his knees to see better, craning his neck and answering in an awed voice, "Fire is my very favorite thing in the world." His mother tried to interrupt with a bid for him to sit back down properly, but he didn't listen.

"No, it's robots," Kojiro volleyed back without a pause. "You want a robot best friend. You want to marry a robot."

"No, I want you for a best friend." Kaoru had another one of his weird, serious moments.

"Do you want to marry me too?" Kojiro tried to counteract his pink haired new friend's gravity.

"Can we have a lot more candles?" Kaoru asked.

Kojiro had expected to be called dumb again or for Kaoru to declare the idea gross, but this was better. He'd rather marry Kaoru and his pet frog than a girl. "Yeah! And a cake that isn't plastic!"

"The cake is plastic?" Kaoru stopped twisting around in his seat in order to scrunch his nose in distaste in Kojiro's direction. "They should go to jail."

And then was when Kojiro really knew they belonged together.

#matchablossom #kid fic #snippets #kojiro nanjo #kaoru sakurayashiki #matcha blossom #kojiro x kaoru #nanjo kojiro #sakurayashiki kaoru

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