#definitely not my best work but i was running out of time

[strang3lov3]

Dirty Laundry

Joel's best kept secret is the washer and dryer he's not supposed to have. Your best kept secret is that you've been using that washer to get yourself off.

Tags - 18+, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation on a washing machine, dirty boxer sniffing (you fucking freak), fantasizing about a dirty old man, unprotected piv, creampie, curmudgeon joel talks you through knife safety, washing machine repairs, and overstim. 8k words, idk what the fuck happened. Thank you to @noxturnalpascal , @beefrobeefcal , and @papipascalispunk for helping me edit this monstrosity and @joelsgreys for letting me scream about washers and dryers for days <3 A/N - i have worked harder on this than my finals, but that should surprise no one. i only have one more left and then you should be seeing more of me this summer <3 i have a lot a lot a lot planned and I've been so excited to share new shit with you. Roman girlies, I haven't forgotten about you. He's up next. Anyway, you maniacs know what you’re here for, so please enjoy.

Joel’s best kept secret is his Whirlpool brand washer and dryer set, which is hidden deep in his basement. You stand before it now, loading your dirty laundry into it, using what is definitely too much of Joel’s detergent. 

Perhaps it’s more accurate to say his washer and dryer set was his best kept secret, until you came along and forced his hand. Everything was fine, and then you showed up, both yourself and your basket of laundry soaking wet, leaving Joel with no choice but to lend you a hand. Biggest mistake of his life. 

As great as Jackson is, it still comes up short sometimes. Not with everything; you’re beyond blessed to live in the safety of its walls. Just technologically, sometimes it can leave you missing the finer things. It's not Jackson’s fault society is twenty years into an apocalypse, thus running on twenty-plus year old appliances. The older ovens, refrigerators, and other appliances that were built in the seventies to the nineties or so are surprisingly doing alright, but the ones built when manufacturing began to take a turn for the worse around the later nineties and 2000s are beginning to crap out, especially the washers. God, you hate laundry day. The washers at the laundromat in Jackson always give you a hard time. Week after week, your chosen washer won’t start, or it’ll stop mid-cycle. The laundry attendant, Patti, often helps you wash your clothes by hand which is nice, but still frustrating for you both. 

On a busy and gloomy Sunday a couple months back, you were lucky enough to pick one of the less temperamental washers and hardly had to fight or beg and plead with it to get it to wash your clothes. However, your luck ran out when it came time to dry, your dryer wouldn’t run. Refused to start, even with Patti’s help. Worse yet, every other dryer was in use at the moment.  You were shit out of luck. Patti offered you a sympathetic smile and sent you home with a baggy full of clothes pins and a wagon to carry your basket of sopping wet clothes. The clothespins were a nice gesture, but didn’t help much as you didn’t have a clothesline. And - you had to laugh - most of them were broken. Oh dear, sweet Patti.

Once at home, you did your best to hang up your clothes on your porch, laying them out over the thick wooden railing, securing them with rocks. The wind was blowing something fierce that day, and then you felt it – a raindrop. And then another, and another. Before you knew it, you were caught in a torrential downpour, with your clothes blowing every which way. Working to gather your clothes as quickly as possible, you haphazardly chucked the rocks that were keeping them still in every direction, your neighbor Joel interrupting the task when he came outside and started to shout at you. Joel’s a man that can only be described as crotchety. A curmudgeon, even. 

“The fuck are you throwing rocks at my window for?” he shouted, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of the wind and the rain smacking your porch. 

“What?” you yelled back, “Joel, I can’t hear you.” 

“ROCKS,” he shouted again, “Why are you throwi–” Joel realized it was a lost cause then. He could see in your face that you couldn’t hear him, you looked puzzled and annoyed for a moment before you returned to throwing rocks and gathering clothes. “Fuck it,” he mumbled to himself. Through the pouring rain, he marched across both his and your lawns and right up the steps of your porch. “What are you doing?”

“I was at the laundromat and the dryer stopped working so Patti gave me clothespins but I don’t have a clothesline so I tried to lay them out on my porch with rocks so they could dry but then it started to ra–” Getting the picture, Joel had stopped listening to you and joined you in gathering your clothes tossing stones back into the rock edging surrounding your house. “What are you doing?” you asked. 

“Nothin’, just– come on. Let’s go – we’re goin’ to my house,” he answered, dumping the last of your clothes into your basket. 

“Why?”

Lightning shoots from a nearby cloud, with booming thunder following suit. Joel’s soaking wet, as are you. His hair was dark and stuck to his forehead, his thin t-shirt clung to his body, outlining his soft, pillowy tummy and belly button and his thick, muscular biceps. “Go, go, go,” Joel shouted, waving you away. “Just go. Move.” he grunted as he lifted up your laundry basket and hauled it across the grass in quick strides. He held the basket on his hip as he opened his door for you, guiding you inside with a push to your lower waist. 

Your shoes squeaked as you followed Joel through his house. He took your basket down his basement stairs, “Be careful for me, stairs are steep,” he warned you, “Don’t need you crackin’ your skull open. Got enough shit to deal with.” It was sweet, knowing that he was looking out for you – even with the irritation lacing his tone. 

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you saw what Joel had led you to. A washer and a dryer, olive green in color. He opened the door of the dryer and shoved your wet clothes inside it, then took off his own soaked shirt and pants and tossed them in too. “They’re clean,” he told you. 

In another lifetime where the world doesn’t go to shit and fungus is the least of your problems, the mundane appliances in front of you would be the very last thing on your mind. You’d be focused on Joel, watching rivulets of water slide down his jaw, past his Adam’s apple and pool in the hollow of his throat. You’d be tracing the outline of his body with your eyes, following that thin line of hair that spreads down his lower stomach, disappearing under his boxers. You’d be eyeing his thick bulge and the way that if you squint, you could see the outline of his cock. But in this life, in this moment – where the world went to shit a long time ago – you’re more amazed by the washer and dryer he stands next to. “This is why I never see you at the laundromat? The whole time, you’ve had a washer and dryer?” you asked, astonished. 

“M’not supposed to, but yeah,” Joel answered, shutting the dryer door before turning to you with his chin tilted down, eyebrows raised. Don’t you go tellin’ anyone, now.”

“I’m gonna tell Patti.”

Joel looked betrayed and puzzled. “I’m doin’ you a favor,” he reminded you.

“I know.”

“You want me to dry your clothes or not?” You crossed your arms and bit the inside of your cheek as you shrugged. “Oh, Christ,” Joel grumbled under his breath. “Why the hell would you go and rat me out?”

“Because, Joel, ” you began explaining, “All of the washers and dryers are breaking and you’re hoarding your own? I don’t think so – if everyone else has to share the washers, then you do too,” you scolded. “It’s selfish.” 

“Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.” You stared at Joel for a moment before turning on your heel to go tattle on him, just like you swore you would. “Wait–” Joel grabbed your arm, stopping you. Despite being long gone from Boston QZ, Joel couldn’t quite shake those smuggling and bargaining habits of his. You were serious about this threat, and he knew it. You’d march your ass through the pouring rain to go snitch on him to Patti. And really, the worst that would’ve happened to Joel would be a scolding from Maria and the washer and dryer removed from his home and placed in the laundromat. It’s not like he’d be placed in a pillory and have rotten tomatoes thrown at him. But still. Joel liked his washer and dryer. He sighed. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything, Joel. I just want to better our community.” 

Give me a break. “What do you want,” he repeated, his voice lower. 

You pressed your lips in a thin line, eyeing those pretty olive green appliances of his. It’s not a far walk to Joel’s house… And you wouldn’t have to wait in line to wash your clothes behind twenty other people. You did want to better your community, that much was true. But you weren’t opposed to bettering your own life. “Let me use your washer and dryer. Whenever I want.”

Joel was quick to counter in a stern voice, “Twice a week, tops.” 

“Three times,” you tried.

“Once,” Joel lowered his offer and then looked at you with his eyes squinted, his head cocked to the side. “Who does laundry three times a week?” 

It was a fair point. Even with your very own washer and dryer, you wouldn’t do that much laundry. “Fine. Twice,” you agreed, and Joel held out his hand for you to take and you shook on it. His palm was warm and calloused, his grip firm. In that moment you met his eyes, taking in the beauty of his face. Those sparkling, big brown eyes and the beautiful curve of his aquiline nose. Your eyes traveled lower still, and it hit you both at that moment - the realization that Joel was wearing nothing but his boxers, and that you were still shivering in your cold, wet clothes. Joel dropped your hand quickly and grabbed a clean t-shirt from one of his own laundry baskets on top of the dryer. “Here. You can change into this and toss your clothes in there too, f’ya want.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the shirt from his hand. “Do you have something to wear?”

“I’m a little behind on laundry, actually…” Joel trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. You scoffed and chuckled at that. The luxury of his very own washer and dryer, right in the comfort of his home, and Joel had the audacity to be behind on laundry. “Uhh, anyway. You just turn the knob on the dryer to ‘high’ and press the start button. I’ll give ya some privacy to change, you can meet me upstairs when you’re done,” he said, and then shuffled past you. 

Once Joel was up the stairs, you took off your clothes and put them in with the rest of the clothing in the dryer. You changed into Joel’s t-shirt, the fabric was soft with time and many wearings, and it smelled like him despite being washed. It was a muted teal in color, littered with a couple of bleach stains here and there. You liked it. 

Upstairs, Joel made a couple of mugs of hot tea to warm you both up. “Honey?” 

“Yeah, Joel?”

“N- no, like…Was askin’ f’ya wanted honey in your tea.”

“Oh.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “Y– yes please. Thank you.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks. What a stupid thing to say. You watched as Joel stirred a bit of honey into your cup of tea, smirking as he then handed you the mug. Asshole. “Thought you were a coffee drinker,” you mused awkwardly, attempting to change the subject after taking a sip of the hot liquid, “You like tea?”

Joel grimaced in disgust as he took a sip of his own tea. “No. Just tryin’ to be polite for ya.” 

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, you know,” you smiled into your mug. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Aaand there it is. Curmudgeon Joel was back, Neighborly Joel never lasted long anyway. 

You sat on Joel’s couch, warming up with your cup of tea. Joel had noticed goosebumps on your thighs and pulled a blanket over your lap. He sat next to you with his mug steaming in his hands and just stared at you, not even realizing how deeply he was admiring the way his shirt hugged your curves just right, highlighting all the right parts of you. He jolted when he felt his cock thicken in his boxers, spilling his scalding hot tea all over his bare thighs. “God bless it,” he swore. Without thinking, he pulled the blanket from your legs and covered his own lap to hide his growing erection from you. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” 

“Nothin’. Just– m’cold,” he lied. “Jesus fuckin’- just - c’mere,” Joel huffed as he patted the spot next to him and urged you closer, then laid the blanket back over your legs. You sat shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh as you sipped your tea and Joel’s went cold. Dork. 

Moments passed. You sat in silence, the only sound was the rain pounding against Joel’s windows as your heart fluttered in anxiety, or maybe excitement. You might’ve even called it butterflies in your tummy. But you knew better. It was just the close proximity to Joel. And the fact that you were wearing his shirt, and he was practically naked. All of it pretty insignificant, honestly. It was basically nothing.

Joel finally spoke first, “Was thinkin’ it’d be best if you’d come by at night, when I’m on patrol or somethin’. Nobody’ll see you with your laundry and it’ll stay our lil’ secret, yeah?” You nodded, still a little bashful with everything that had happened. You aren’t often like that. It’s cute, Joel thought. “An’ you can use my detergent and whatnot. Whatever you need, s’yours.” 

“Thank–” an especially bright flash of lightning followed by nearly deafening thunder interrupted you. You startled and sort of hurled yourself closer to Joel, grabbed his forearm and held it tight. It was just a reflex, probably. Basically nothing. 

“It’s just a storm, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna bite ya,” Joel teases with a grin. 

“Oh, shut up,” you let go of his arm and missed the warmth of his skin beneath your palm almost immediately, but your longing for his touch was quickly soothed. Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side as you listened to the sounds of the storm together. You stayed like that, inhaling the sweet scent of him, masculine and heady. He smelled like the rain, too, and the hair on his underarms tickled your skin but you didn’t mind. When your laundry dried, he carried your basket home for you. You thanked him and moved to shut the door, but Joel stopped it with his hand, “Washer can be sorta delicate sometimes, so just be careful with it.”

“Noted,” you replied. “See ya, Joel.”

“See ya, hon.”

A few nights later, you returned to his home with your basket of laundry. Joel was gone, on patrol as he often is at night. Doing the laundry was uneventful , even though you probably used too much detergent, but whatever. Joel didn’t have to know. The next time you did laundry, Joel was at home. He told you not to worry about whichever nights you come by, that he’d always leave the washer and dryer empty in the evenings for you to use. He was even generous enough to make you dinner that night. 

It all worked out. Joel’s washer and dryer stayed unknown to the rest of Jackson, and your laundry was cleaned in a much more efficient way. There really weren’t any flaws in your and Joel’s system, as long as you didn’t include the one laundry night where Joel was gone on patrol again, but had come home just as you were leaving. You bumped into him accidentally, causing a lacy pair of your panties to fall right out of your basket and onto his shoe. He bent down and picked them up for you, not even realizing what he was holding. “Oh. My bad,” he blushed, once he recognized the garment. “I’ll just…” and put them back in your basket. From that point forward, he was always careful to stay out of your way. Aside from that it really did all work out. 

-

After loading your clothes into Joel’s washer, you shut the washer door and turn it on. You make your way upstairs and there’s a note on Joel’s table – Leftovers in the fridge are yours if you wanna heat them up.

Opening the fridge, you see a neatly packed container of what looks to be chicken and vegetables. Yum. God, you’ll miss these vegetables when it gets cold again. You take advantage of the offer and heat up the food in a pan on the stovetop, humming to yourself as you stir the food to keep it from burning. A light flickers above you. Weird. It flickers again, and then finally goes out. But it’s no big deal, you’ve seen in Joel’s basement that above the washer and dryer is a shelf full of supplies and you know there’s a couple of bulbs there. You go back downstairs where the washer hums, working its way through the cycle.

“Hmm,” you hum to yourself. You’d never quite realized just how high up that supply shelf is. And the bulbs are in the middle of the shelf, so there’s no good way to get them without climbing on top of the washer, which Joel would probably kill you for doing. He did ask that you be careful with his fragile washer, after all. Whatever. It’ll take like six seconds, tops. You hoist yourself on the washer and first try kneeling on it to see if you can reach one of the bulbs. No luck. You stand on your feet then, raising yourself up carefully, slowly, feeling the washer shake slightly beneath your feet. Joel would be absolutely irate if he saw you like this now. When you finally grab one of those light bulbs, you carefully lower yourself to a seated position on the washer to catch your breath. You’re not usually prone to vertigo, but Joel’s wobbly washer brought the dizziness on. You know better than to try and move right now, so you just settle yourself down to avoid fainting.  

The washer vibrates under the flesh of your thighs. It’s a gentle sensation, lessened by the angle you’re sitting at. But if you focus really hard, you can feel it in your core. Curious, you spread your legs and turn to the corner of the washer, tilting your hips to the floor, and oh, this is it. You’re not even thinking about potential consequences when you shimmy your shorts and panties off, then find that sweet spot once more. The metal of the washer is cool against you as it vibrates, sending sweet little buzzes through your hot core. You’re not quite wet yet, just enjoying the sensation. Letting it build and build, seeing where it can get you. You let your mind wander, not really thinking about much in particular. The low hum of the washer fades away in your mind and you’re starting to become wet. Shifting your position, you extend your arm to find something to grab onto when you feel fabric. Joel’s clothes. He’s still a slacker with keeping up on his dirty laundry. Usually it would irritate you. It does irritate you, this exorbitant waste of an advantage he has. You look at the shirt in your hand, the same shirt Joel had lent you. You think back to that first time you did laundry here at Joel’s, how he sat next to you nearly naked. The feel of his skin and the smell of him - sweat and rain and musk. And Joel being the beautiful, incognizant man he is, probably had zero clue of how sexy he looked. Or smelled, for that matter. 

With Joel now on your mind and his shirt in your hand, you decide to experiment, create a better ambiance. You keep those images of him in your mind, those feelings too. You remember the low timbre of his voice, the rain splashing against the windows, the weight of his arm wrapped around your shoulders. And with his dirty t-shirt clutched in your fist and its armpit pressed against your nose you remember his scent. Smell is a powerful sense, closely linked to memory and emotion, his shirt and what it’s doing to you is a testament to that fact. Legs spread wide, your hips angled down with your clit pressed to the corner of Joel’s washer, the machine vibrating under you as you inhale his scent deeply - you’re back in that memory. And then some. 

In your mind, your back on Joel’s couch. You can smell him, feel him, and if you really concentrate, you can even taste him. You’re on your knees and he’s drawing lazy patterns on your back as you suck his cock and fondle his balls, and he’s moaning, grunting and whimpering your name. He tastes like he smells, heady and all masculine. He grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, guides you to straddle his hips. His forehead pressed against yours, he notches the tip of his cock inside you and pulls you down slowly, careful so as not to hurt you but it does, of course it does. Not that you mind, you love the stretch and the ache of his thickness splitting you in two. You rock yourself, grind your clit against that unruly patch of hair at the base of his cock. You’re coming, you’re coming, you’re coming. 

You’re coming. Loudly, whimpering Joel’s name as you rut against the vibrating machine. As you finish, so does the washer. It sings you a little chiming song indicating the load is done washing. You can’t help but giggle at that as you bask in the discovery of this fortuitous delight. You’ve got private access to a washer and dryer and a vibrator now too? Lucky, lucky, lucky. 

God, Joel’s shirt smells good. You inhale it deeply, wondering if he wears cologne. It smells almost woodsy…smokey, even. 

Fuck. You’re smelling smoke. 

You pull on your pants and sprint up the steps, racing to Joel’s kitchen only to find that the chicken and veggies you were heating up are no more. They’re black and shriveled, cemented to the stainless steel pan, and there’s no salvaging that. No amount of scrubbing can erase your masturbatory mistake. Fuck, Joel’s gonna kill you. Your only choice is to conceal the evidence. Surreptitiously, you take the pan and hide it under a bush outside Joel’s backdoor.

You’ll be more responsible next time - yes, there absolutely will be a next time. Gas off before you get off. 

The next time came and went. And the time after that, and the one after that. Laundry was always your least favorite chore, but with access to Joel’s washer and dryer and this new trick up your sleeve, it’s not so bad. Getting off on Joel’s washer has become a weekly thing and it’s been lovely, relieving, dirty, and exciting, but you’d be lying if you were to say it’s been perfectly fine the whole time. 

You’ve been abusing the poor machine. It’s no secret. You get every bang for your buck out of the washer, taking full advantage of Joel’s twice a week offer and then some. Some nights you’ll sneak over and do an extra load, wash a blanket or something just to make the washer run for your masturbatory purposes. And so, the vibrating sensation the machine produces has begun to weaken. In order to compensate, you’ve been rocking yourself harder on it, which probably isn’t helping. But it’s still washing your clothes, right? 

…Yes. Mostly. It still washes, but it’s become sort of finicky. And the door doesn’t quite shut the way it used to, and it makes an odd noise now that it never made before. 

Tonight you’re at Joel’s doing a double load of laundry. There were no ulterior motives on your part when you came over, honestly and truly. Your first load is drying, the second load is in the washer. Joel’s home tonight, he’s gonna cook you dinner like he always does when he’s around. For such a grouch, he wears his heart on his sleeve. 

It would be more accurate to say you’re cooking dinner together. Joel came home with a basket full of fresh vegetables from the market and actually put you to work, his reasoning being that he was starving and wanted dinner ready yesterday, and that having your help cutting up the vegetables for the meal he was making would have dinner ready that much sooner. He places a cutting board in front of you and hands you a knife, “Chop chop,” he says, then laughs at his own pun as he rifles through some cabinets. “Missin’ a saucepan…” he mumbles to himself. Oops.

You start by peeling the carrots. As you begin to chop them, you realize he didn’t give you any sort of instruction. “Joel?”

“Yeah, hon.”

“How small do you need me to cut the carrots?”

“Uhhhh,” he thinks. “Lemme see.” Joel turns around and watches you with a look of disappointment and repulsion painting his features. “What’s the matter with you?”

“What?” you ask defensively. 

“Why are you tryin’ to cut off your fingers?”

You look down at your hand holding the carrot and your other hand holding the knife, then up at Joel. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I’m not trying to cut off my fingers.”

“Sure looks like it to me. Is that always how you handle a knife?”

“Yeah,” you reply, “Why?”

“‘Cause you’re gonna cut off your damn fingers, dammit, that’s why. C’mere,” Joel stands behind you where you stand at the island, then lifts up your left hand and curls your fingers underneath themselves. “Keep your fingers like this,” he instructs. “Holdin’ your fingers out flat like that are a sure fire way to cut ‘em off. Now show me how you chop.” 

With your fingers in the proper position now, you begin to cut the carrots. They wobble beneath you, you hate the way Joel has you holding them. “This is uncomfortable,” you tell him. 

“You know what’s more uncomfortable? Missin’ fingers. Keep goin’.” You groan but keep chopping per his demand. He’s pressed against your back, one of his palms lays flat against the countertop, semi caging you in as he watches you work. “Okay, okay, stop. You’re makin’ me nervous. Gimme this.” Joel wraps his hand around yours on the handle of the knife. He moves the knife for you, cutting the carrot slowly, your hand securely in his. “You’re liftin’ the knife too much, sweetheart. Just rock it back and forth for me. Just like this,” he whispers, showing you how he rocks the knife in a fluid motion to cut the carrots. His hands are warm, his grip on your hands is firm. His breath is hot and tickles your ear, sending goosebumps erupting down the back of your neck. He chops the carrots quietly, and you feel him against you - the rise and fall of his chest and tummy with each inhale and exhale he takes, his wiry scruff kissing the side of your face. “That’s it,” he praises, “Good girl.”

Fuck. His words go right to your core. As if him holding your hands and caging you in to teach you how to cut vegetables wasn’t enough, he had to call you ‘good girl’ as well. That had to be deliberate on his part, you’re almost certain of it. And now you’ve got to pay his washer another visit. His fault, honestly. “Laundry,” you blurt out, pushing his hands off of yours and shrinking away from his hold. “Sorry. Gotta check the laundry.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” Joel watches you pace down the basement stairs and listens to you pretend to check on your clothes, opening and shutting the washer and dryer doors. He’s waiting for you to come upstairs, but you never do. “You comin’ upstairs?”

“Yeah, just a minute,” you call back.

“There’s spiders down there, you know. Big an’ fuzzy too.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you yell as you unbutton your shorts and pull them down your legs. “I don’t mind them.”

Your reply immediately has Joel feeling suspicious of you. Even a mention of a mere ant should have sent you running into his arms and pleading with him to get rid of it. On more than one occasion, Joel’s woken up to you pounding on his door in the middle of the night begging him to come kill a spider that’s in your bedroom. And he always does, of course, even when the spider is miniscule and simply minding its business in a corner somewhere. He’ll scoop it into the palm of his hand and set it outside in a bed of flowers, call you a wimp and be on his merry way, grumbling the entire walk home. He wonders why the hell you’re so brave all of a sudden. 

A loud, clunking noise interrupts the silence. “Oh, fuck,” you swear. And Joel’s deaf, but not deaf enough to not hear you. “What was that?” he calls from up the stairs. 

“Nothing!”

Joel knows it wasn’t nothing, it certainly didn’t sound like nothing. You quickly pull your shorts and panties back on when you hear him stomping down the stairs to investigate. Wracking your brain to think of a lie to tell Joel, you realize you’re fucked, utterly and completely. It would’ve been more appropriate to think of one before now, probably around the time the washer started to make weird noises. Now you’re faced with god knows what consequences. 

Joel greets you with a puzzled and angered expression. “What the hell happened?”

“I d– I don’t know. Just something… Happened, I guess,” you stutter. Subtly, you stuff the used pair of his boxers you were smelling down the back of your shorts to hide the evidence of your even dirtier secret. Joel sees that you’re avoiding eye contact, looking up and away, scratching your head. The silence hangs heavily in the air and Joel sees the guilt on your face and that your shorts are undone for some reason. “You have ten seconds to tell me the truth before this becomes a much worse day for us both.”

“Nothing happened–”

 “Nine, eight…”

You fold instantly. “I sit on it,” you confess, Joel exhales in frustration. “Sit? As in… this is a regular occurrence, you’ve been sittin’ on my washer,” Joel asserts. You nod in confirmation. “Why.”

 “I don’t know,” you shrug, another lie. 

“Well, how much have you been sittin’ on it?” 

“Just like…a lot, I guess.” You look down at your feet, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.  

“Why?” he asks again.

“It…uhh…sort of…” you mumble, picking at your fingernails. 

“Sort of what?”

“Vibrates.”

Joel’s face falls at the admission. “You’re not serious,” he says, but he knows you are. “Oh my god.”

“Stranger things have happened, right?” Your voice wavers as you try to soften the blow with a joke. 

“Unbelievable,” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “No. Stranger things than you have not happened, sweetheart.” After taking a few deep breaths, he pushes you to the side and reaches for the shelf above the washer for a toolbox. He takes out a putty knife and wriggles the front of the washer off, then drops to his knees to inspect the washer. “Did I not ask you to be careful with it?” It’s a rhetorical question. Joel groans when he sees what’s broken inside of the washer. 

“What is it?”

“Belt’s broken,” he answers. “You’re lucky s’fixable.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well, it’s good you can fix it, right?”

 “Oh, no. You are fixin’ it, my darlin’. You broke it.”

Joel’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re putting his washer back together. “I don’t know how,” you tell him. You’ll make it up to him in any other way than this, but there’s no way he’s serious. Besides, he’s now the first to know that your track record with washers isn’t to be trusted.

 “I’ll walk you through it,” Joel replies plainly. “Get down there. On your knees, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at him. “Now,” he says, unimpressed with your defiance.

You drop to your knees in front of the washer, looking for the broken belt that Joel speaks of. You find one of the big and fuzzy spiders he was talking about instead. “Jesus!” you yelp, launching backwards and nearly knocking Joel over in the process “There’s a spider, Joel - kill it, kill it, kill it, Joel - kill it, please,” you beg. 

“Oh for Christ’s sake, it’s harmless.”

“Joel!”

Joel nudges you out of the way to find the spider sitting right at the bottom of the washer. He scoops it into his hand, then holds it in front of you, “I thought you said you didn’t mind ‘em,” he taunts. 

“I lied. Get it away from me,” You shove him away from you, and he clutches the spider more carefully in his hands, laughing. 

“Yeah, I know you lied. You’re very bad at it,” Joel opens one of the basement’s egress windows and sends the spider on its way, then closes it and returns to you, first grabbing what looks to be a replacement belt for his washer from a nearby shelf. Leave it to Joel to have the most convenient yet obscure supplies right in his basement twenty years into an apocalypse. “Back to work.” You’re in front of the washer once more, and Joel takes his seat right behind you. “See that black belt at the bottom of the drum?”

“No.”

“This thing here,” he points at it with his finger. “Take it off,” You reach for the belt and tug on it a bit, “Gotta wiggle it a bit,” following his instruction, you wiggle the belt and it falls off the drum. “Attagirl. Now put this one on,” he hands you the new belt and takes the old one from you. “S’gonna be snug.”

You struggle to stretch the rubber over the drum and it snaps your hands when it slips. “Fuck.”

“Keep tryin’. Put some elbow grease into it, hon,” Joel hovers over your shoulder, just as he did earlier in the kitchen. “M’just checkin’ to make sure you got it lined up properly,” Joel tugs on the rubber belt, making sure it’s sitting where it needs to. “So tell me again how long you been doin it for,” he whispers. “Long time?”

You answer cautiously, “Uhhh…a while now, I guess.”

 “Yeah, I figured. S’it feel good?” 

The question throws you off, makes you nervous. But his voice is low and gravelly, and his tone isn’t pointed or accusatory. He seems curious, but for what reason, you’re not quite sure yet. “It does.”

“Better than your fingers?” Joel tightens the belt a bit and leans back. He’s watching you, but you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes. You gasp when you feel his warm palm sliding underneath your shorts. “What the–” Oh, fuck. Joel found his pair of boxers. He holds the fabric in his hands, a knowing grin on his lips. “These are mine. What’re you doin’ with my dirty boxers?” he asks. He doesn’t allow you time to stutter out an excuse. “You’re a dirty lil’ bird, aren’t you?”

“Joel.”

He tosses his pair of boxers onto the dryer and whispers in your ear again, “I asked you somethin’. My washer feel better than your fingers?”

“Yeah,” you answer, “Better.”

Joel hums in amusement. He slides his hand down the front of your pants, still unbuttoned from earlier. “Saved me the trouble, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” he breathes. Your breath hitches when his fingers find your mound, as he toys with the curls there. He traces over your lips, then dips a finger between them, circling your hole, then circles your clit. “Better than mine?” he asks, dipping a finger into your center and you moan.  He holds one hand on your hip as the other pumps in and out of your center, and you lean back into his chest, relaxing with his touch. You sigh deeply. “Don’t get all cozy on me, now. You ain’t done. Gotta put the front of the washer back on, should just click right into place.”

Joel pulls his hand away from you so you can lift the front piece of the washer. “It’s not–” you complain, struggling to click it into place the way Joel says it should. You push and push, but it doesn’t budge. “Joel, it’s not–”

“It will. Just try.” 

“I am,” you argue, shoving it once more but to no avail. You’ve grown frustrated by his washer, by the task Joel bestowed upon you in fixing it, and his teasing, too. In a fit of anger, you stand up and kick it.

 “Hey, easy,” Joel scolds. “Look, like this,” Magically, the front piece of the washer fits right into place, just like he said it would. He does nothing different than what you did, it just works out for him. Of course it does. “You’re impatient, huh?” he murmurs, moving behind you. You gasp when you feel his hands on your hips, tugging the fabric of both your shorts and your panties down to your ankles, he helps you out of the garments and tosses them elsewhere. His hands are on your hips again, this time guiding you, whispering, “Back, back,” as he positions you where he needs you, spreading your legs apart. You’re leaning on his washer and he’s on his knees behind you, using his nose to tease and part your slick folds. He inhales you deeply, taking in the sweet scent of your arousal before he tastes you. He traces your lips with a pointed tongue, up and down, before he dips his tongue into your heat, savoring you. 

“How ‘bout my tongue?” he purrs, whispering against your skin. You don’t answer, and it’s not like you could anyway, with the way he devours you. His arms are wrapped around your legs, his fingertips are digging harshly into your thighs like he means to bruise you, tear the flesh off your bones even. It’s possessive in nature, but not abusive or aggressive. You know his actions aren’t borne of anything except pure pleasure and you indulge in it, in him. He moves slow like honey as he tastes you languidly, kissing you. He laps your velvety heat, his tongue teasing all of your sensitive, slick flesh. Now and then the wiry hairs of his beard will tease and scratch your inner thighs, a sensation that tickles you and rubs you raw all the same. “Oh my god,” you moan, reaching behind yourself to take hold of his head, fingers tangling in his graying curls and waves. “Joel, oh my god.”

Joel takes your lack of a real answer to his question as a no, his washer pales in comparison to his tongue. Good. He bets you’ve fantasized about him, all those times you’ve used his washer for those needs of yours besides washing your clothes. And he bets that you probably grind yourself on it, picturing it’s his warm flesh beneath you and not the cold metal of the machine. He’d be right. He sucks your clit, circling the sensitive bud with his tongue. He nips at your folds, sucking one, then the other between his plump lips, then focuses his attention back at your clit. You’re moaning his name, the only word you know anymore. Joel keeps you still, held tight in his arms so that you can’t push your ass back and grind against his mouth like he knows you’re fighting to do. All you can do is take it, feel his perfect aquiline nose tease between your cheeks. He’s buried himself face first in your most private place as he consumes you voraciously, his tongue flicking and swirling and painting you. You’re biting into your own arm, seeing stars as you come on his tongue. It’s an elusive sort of orgasm, the kind where you don’t exactly know where it begins and it ends. All you know is that you’re sensitive, so fucking sensitive and Joel is relentless. Your knees buckle as he toys with your clit, gives you a break for a moment before he’s right back there again, continuing to eat you. He keeps going and going, repeating the actions over and over again just to make you cry and beg, “Stop - please - I can’t, I can’t, Joel. T-too much.”

“Know it’s too much, sweetheart, s’why I’m doin it,” Joel coos. But he obliges, places one last kiss to your heat, soaked by his spit and your own arousal before he stands up behind you. He wraps one arm around your stomach, pulling himself close to you. You can feel his hard cock against your ass, separated only by his denim as he uses his other hand to turn your face to the side, meeting him beside you. He kisses you, tracing his tongue along the seam of your lips, licking into your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, then feel his hand leave your face to reach for his fly. You hear him unzip his jeans slowly, and then he’s pulling his cock out, still kissing you as he lines up with you, first parting your thighs with a gentle nudge of his knee before notching his tip at your entrance. He finally pulls his mouth away from yours and gently forces your chest down toward the washer. He pushes himself into you, careful so as not to hurt you but deliberately so that you still feel that ache, the stretch of his thick cock separating your insides. Joel continues holding your body close to his as he reaches for your hand with his free one, interlacing his fingers in between your own.  “How about my cock, sweetheart? You like it better, worse?” he whispers, kissing, nipping at your ear in between words. He pulls out of you nearly all the way, then pushes back into your dripping cunt. 

You try to answer, “Bet - oh, ahhh,” 

Joel chuckles at the way he’s reduced you to nothing but broken syllables and moans. “Ohhh, listen to you. I think it’s better, huh? S’that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” You nod frantically. “Yeah, I know, beautiful.”

His pace is slower to start, but it builds in quick time. You can feel he’s fighting with himself to be more gentle than he actually wants to be, his thrusts sloppier than he intends, like he’s losing himself in you. You’re lost in him, lost in the moment all the same. You take it all in, the lewd and obscene sounds of the pleasure he creates with you - his thighs slapping against yours and the gushing of your cunt on his cock. Your moans, your cries, all babbling nonsense. And Joel’s deep breaths in and out, shaky and stuttering as he does it. His grunts and his swearing, a whimper here and there if you listen closely. He fills you up perfectly, hits that sweet spot deep inside you over and over and over…

“You coulda had me like this the whole time,” he pants, “Didn’t have to go an’ break my washer f’ya needed somethin’ more than those fingers of yours, sweetheart. Know you been needin’ some lovin’.”  He reaches for your breasts, squeezing and groping the flesh, twisting your nipples and smirking when you twitch and whine. “All you had to do was ask.” You don’t respond, but he doesn’t expect you to anyway. What he did expect, however, were your moans of displeasure as he pulls out of you. He knows, oh, he knows how empty you must feel, you poor thing.  He’ll soothe that. He flips you around, seats you on his washer. “I’m gonna make you come again,” he promises, “I’m gonna watch.”

 “Too much, Joel, I can’t,” you cry. You want to come again, really. But you don’t think you have it in you, still so worked up, overstimulated by the endless teasing of his tongue on your pussy.

 “Oh, don’t cry. You can do it, hon. You can take it,” he says, “Open up those legs for me, darlin’.” Joel pushes your trembling legs wide so he can slot his hips between them, then wraps your legs around his waist before sliding his cock into you once more. He thrusts just once, rather harshly, before he’s met with another rather loud noise from the washer. Joel halts and scratches the back of his neck. God, he hopes he didn’t just do it in. “Probably shouldn’t…uh…”

“Yeah,” you agree. 

“Did you use my dryer too?”

“Duh,” you answer. “How else would I dry my clothes?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “No, smartass. Were you usin’ it for your dirty work, is what I’m askin’.”

“No.” 

Still inside you, Joel slides you over to his dryer. “Good girl. Poor washer’s been abused plenty by you already.”  

“But I will,” You whisper defiantly under your breath, wrapping your arms around his neck as he adjusts. 

“Wrong ear, sweetheart. My right one’s deaf. I heard that loud and clear.”

Joel’s back to fucking you in an instant. He wastes no time in making good on his promise, thumbing your clit as he rolls his hips into you. “See, look at you. Takin’ me just fine,” he praises.The way you squirm and take your shallow little breaths fills him with satisfaction and delight. He knows this isn’t easy, that you’re tired and sore and overstimulated. He’ll be done with you soon. “Come with me, wanna feel you come with me, sweetheart,” he says. “Focus here, eyes on me. You’re gonna come with me.” 

It’s a few moments of Joel painting your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you hard and deep. There’s a push and pull to it, where you’re not sure who this is for - yourself or Joel. Just like before, you’re not sure where it starts and stops, but you’re there. God it’s intense, you’re gonna break and you know it. Joel’s got his palm on the back of your neck, squeezing you. His jaw clenches and he’s coming undone first, but he never loses focus on you. His thrusts stutter as he milks himself in you but doesn't yet stop - he’s making sure you’re gonna come. “C’mon baby, c’mon. Give it to me,” he says. “One more for me. Last one.” 

His words are all it takes. You whimper and moan, cry his name as you find your climax. Release washes over you the way waves crash onto sand - it’s repeated, the way the tides push and pull. Deafening. Powerful. 

But there’s a calmness yet. The rolling of his hips slows, slows, stops. He presses his damp forehead against yours, breathing deeply. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay?”

You nod and smile, “Yeah, I’m good.” He smiles with you and helps you off of the dryer. Joel finds your clothes and dresses you in them, steadying your shaky legs. 

Joel tentatively restarts the washer. It chugs a bit, but makes all the right noises and he breathes a sigh of relief. You’re a bit startled when he takes you by the arm and marches you up the stairs. “New rule,” he says, “You stay with me when your clothes are washin’.”

You bite your lip to hide your guilty smirk. “Yes. Joel.” 

“And I still need you to cut them veggies for me, too.” 

I struggled heavily with this fic, comments and reblogs would be much appreciated if you were feeling so inclined🙏 they keep me motivated and I look back at your words when I’m writing to remember that I’m capable of pleasing you all

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfic #joel the last of us #tlou joel #pedro pascal x reader

[ladybugsimblr]

Dizzy Des on the Music Industry, Bailey Kay, Money vs Marriage, His Legendary Career & More | JUICE CHAMPS R E B E L. T V - 118K Views - 10 hours ago

Comments 43K

wakeupmrwest Best interview yet! You don’t want to skip a second of this. Thank you Dizzy for joining us and schooling these dudes.

Dizzy Des This is why I started this network. A platform to speak our truth!

redpillscholar I knew Bailey Kay was just like all the other 304s. Using 🐱 to get ahead. No talent. You don’t want a female like that Dizzy. She’ll ruin your brand.

BadKidForLife King shit! Mad wisdom! I was taking notes!

kingb 🧢🧢🧢🧢🧢

bkstan 🦋🦋🦋

futuretoxicex Did you even listen to the interview before coming in here with your stupid butterflies? Take your twerking somewhere else. Dizzy was spittin facts.

rubberbandshan Reported dot com. Let me get outta these comments before I puke.

Ocsar: So you really suing BK?! How did it get this bad?

Dizzy: I don’t know! I’ve been asking myself the same damn question. One minute we’re all good, reconnecting, and then next thing you know she’s skipping out on business deals.

O: We know things started going downhill after your album release party. What really happened that night?

D: I had an amazing time and I made sure Bailey did too as everyone saw. But I don’t think she was able to handle those old feelings coming back. Instead of being honest with herself and going for what she really wants, she turned on me instead.

O: Wait. Wait! Run that back. Old feelings? You two had something going on?

D: We have history.

O: What kinda history? You smashed the Queen?

D: Let’s just say when Deangelo brought Bailey Kay to my door she was crackable. She was willing to do whatever it took to get put on. We worked hard, partied hard. Wild times back then.

O: Woooow!

D: Unfortunately we couldn’t make it work as a team. I tried but she chose a different direction. I guess she thought Khalil would do her- I mean do it better over at Blueprint. Obviously she chose wrong. I’m the King of this shit. We could have been on top of the world. True music royalty.

O: I mean BK is definitely on top of the world right now. Are you trying to take her down?

D: Funny choice of words but nah. I want her to keep winning in this industry. But I also want what’s owed to me.

D: Once I win my court case, get my simoleons and maybe a thank you, I’ll be waiting for her with open arms. Ditch those cornballs you got controlling you Queen. You need a high value sim like me to make you be the beautiful butterfly you claim to be.

#bk history: the toxic male version #longest heaviest sigh #gross #hate it here #why are they so fine tho? #bc the toxic problematic ones usually are 😭 #bklegacy #bklgen2 #bailey kay #dizzy des #oscar west

[misshoneyimhome]

Inexperienced reader marked up Willy's neck while sitting on his lap. His desperate groans forced her to bite down harder than she had before as they grinded against one another. She felt her heart rate speed up as her breathing became shallow. Willy's body began to tense up as he let out a loud moan. She released her grip and pulled away, her cheeks burning. Are you gonna try & hide them?" You say, pulling away with a pout on your lips. Willy shook his head, a mischievous smile on his face as he pointed his index finger at her. "No way," he said, his voice a low whisper. "I'm gonna show them off." They are both possessive in their own right.

Mmm yes, they're definitely possessive babe! And we them for it 😉

So, this chapter turned out to be rather soft, yet still filled with loads of smut - and I just hope you all enjoy it 😊🤍

[casual outing] [Hair tucking]

Tropes & warnings; jealous!Willy, Jealous!reader, Smut 18+; fingering, handjob, penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, light spanking, cum inside, oral sex (m receiving), more penetrative sex (p in vi), cum shot, praise!kink;

Word count; 5.6K

"God morgon, prinsessa," = Good morning, princess

"God morgon, min prins," = Good morning, my prince

「Inexperienced!reader x Willy」

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @Fortheloveofnylander @justwanderingbutneverlost

-

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt XV I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️

Navigating life as an NHL girlfriend always came with its share of highs and lows. And as the regular season drew to a close and the playoffs loomed closer, you found yourself experiencing the bitter side of the journey.

Your feelings for your boyfriend William Nylander remained steadfast regardless, yet the strain on your relationship was becoming palpable.

Describing the final weeks of March as tough felt like an understatement; victories against the Oilers followed by losses to the Hurricanes and the Devils, then another win against the Capitals and the Sabres. It was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone involved.

And after each game, you did your utmost to either console William or provide him with unwavering support. But it wasn't always a straightforward task.

While William typically kept his emotions in check in public, behind closed doors, he was gradually becoming more open. The topic was somewhat delicate, with several small discussions sparked by his seemingly too calm demeanour, yet you encouraged him to let it out.

As you'd discuss the games on your way home, he'd often brush it off, insisting that everything was fine, and they simply needed to perform better next time. And he wasn't entirely wrong. It was perhaps the healthiest mindset to maintain mental stability. Yet, beneath the surface, you sensed there was more to the story, something simmering beneath his composed exterior.

But when William avoided delving deeper into the matter, you decided it was best to table it, at least for the time being.

As April began, the stakes grew higher than ever. The Toronto Maple Leafs teetered on the edge of playoffs, demanding undivided attention to games and training. Consequently, you found yourself inadvertently assuming the role of a housewife, managing grocery runs, meal preparation, and dog-walking duties, especially when William's trainer couldn't spare the time. And balancing your own work responsibilities with being a supportive hockey girlfriend was gradually becoming overwhelming.

Just weeks ago, amidst some wonderful moments shared with William, discussions ventured into territories like finances and the integration of your lives, leading you to make the decision to give up your apartment and fully commit to living with him.

However, as tensions simmered within the walls of your spacious condo, each evening seemingly hotter with unresolved arguments, you reached a breaking point. So you opted to spend a few days at your own place. It wasn't about avoiding William but rather acknowledging the toll these conflicts were taking on you, and recognising you needed a breather before it got too tense. 

You knew the conversations weren't too bad, at least not as per what some of the other girlfriends and wives had shared with you. It was simply around this time of year when the players tend to turn everything into a debate at home. Yet it felt as if the world would come crashing down if you kept it going. 

It would typically start with you attempting to console William, and then it’d escalate. 

"Come on, Willy, just talk to me – that's what I'm here for,” you spoke firmly. 

"There's nothing to talk about. Just leave it, y/n,” he avoided your attempt for a conversation. 

"Look, it's obviously bothering you – I can sense it..."

"Oh, so now you can feel what I feel? Great talent there, y/n..." William almost snorted. 

"That's not fair, Willy... All I want is to try and help..."

"But there's nothing you can do to help! It is what it is."

"Stop saying that! All I want is to support you – there's no need for you to be a dick about it!"

"Well, that's just how it is! You knew that when you got into a relationship with me..."

"Yes! I knew this would be a challenging time, and I was prepared for it – but you also knew you were getting into a relationship, so now you have to accept that you're not alone in this anymore. I'm here to support you, William Nylander, whether you like it or not!"

And with that, the discussion came to a close. It was a delicate balance, wanting to show support while giving William the space he needed. Meanwhile, he needed to understand that you would always be there for him, ready to lend a listening ear, and he couldn't simply push you away when he didn't want to confront his emotions.

So, after a few trial-and-error attempts, you somewhat figured it out.

Yet, stepping into your familiar home brought a sense of relief. Within your own walls, away from the chaos of hockey and media scrutiny, and the unanswerable questions at work about the team's performance, you found tranquillity.

Being apart from your boyfriend for a few days, even though you were in the same city, wasn't easy. But it felt necessary.

And for William, it did provide some focus on his training and the upcoming match against the Canadiens.Deep down, he understood that you weren't trying to leave him, though a part of him feared it. He recognised that you needed time and space, just as he often did, to concentrate on matters beyond the minor disputes at home.

And as the Leafs returned from Montreal, having officially secured their place in the playoffs, it felt like things were returning to normal. Back in your shared home, wrapped in each other's arms, it was pure celebration. You were practically inseparable upon his return, elated from the victory.

-

Sunday was solely dedicated to celebration, and in his role as a gracious host and teammate, Mitch had extended an invitation to the team for dinner at his restaurant. It was meant to be a relaxed evening, bearing in mind the upcoming game against the Penguins the following day, and with the tense and challenging times ahead, everyone saw it as an opportunity to enjoy some calm before the storm.

However, as you moved about the condo, getting ready for the evening proved to be a bit of a challenge.

"Willy," you giggled as you struggled to put on your outfit, standing in the walk-in closet wearing nothing but your underwear. "You really need to let go so I can finish up."

"Hmm," he hummed as he embraced you, burying his face in your neck and planting kisses while his hands wandered over your body, eventually settling on his favourite spot: your ass. "But then you'll just put on clothes... and I prefer you without..." he teased, pulling back to meet your gaze with a mischievous grin.

"Well, I'm sorry, but that would be highly inappropriate for a restaurant outing," you chuckled as you gently wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body lightly against his.

"Or... maybe we skip the dinner... and just stay in here, where we can both be naked," he suggested seductively, and you couldn't help but smile and shake your head gently.

"You can be such a brat sometimes – this is your team, Willy, and we both know you'd love to be with them for dinner," you reasoned with a playful glint in your eye. While the idea of staying home, naked and cuddled up with William was tempting, you also recognised the importance of gatherings like tonight's.

"Hmm," William merely hummed. "I suppose I'll have to... maybe then, try and persuade you."

William's chuckle was nothing short of cheeky and seductive, and you couldn't help but emit a squeak as he hoisted you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom where he playfully tossed you onto the mattress. It was a typical Nylander move, and once he had that dark look in his eyes, there was no stopping him from giving in to the sexual tension, from feeling him inside you as he elicited cries and moans from your lips.

And tonight, even before dinner, was no exception.

As William captured your lips with his, you were immediately drawn into his touch, completely captivated as his tongue danced with yours. Your lips moved in sync, your hands clutching his blonde locks tightly as his body pressed against yours, igniting a hunger and intensity filled with raw lust and desire. And before long, he freed his already hard member from his boxers, discarding your lacy underwear in the process.

You knew this wouldn't be one of those drawn-out sessions where William took his time eating you out, ensuring you reached climax multiple times before satisfying himself. Instead, it was a quick, eager, and playful encounter, where you started out by stroking his shaft, eliciting moans from him, while he moistened two fingers with saliva and inserted them into your core.

The kisses were fervent, occasionally interrupted by moans and heavy breaths. Hands explored each other's bodies, drawing each other closer until William abruptly pulled away. And in one swift motion, he turned you around, knelt behind you, lifted your ass, and entered you.

"Fuck yes..." he groaned deeply as he effortlessly filled you, hitting all the right spots with ease.

"Mmm, yes, Willy..." you moaned in tandem with his deep sounds, quickly succumbing to primal passion. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, while William's hands firmly grasped your hips as he thrust into your warmth. It was far from romantic; it was raw, unbridled passion as William intensified his pace, his hips colliding with yours, his heavy breaths mingling with your loud cries.

William was simply overcome with desire for your body, but knowing he wasn't one to climax too quickly, he also knew he had to exert force to prevent the encounter from dragging on.

And caught in the heat of the moment, he couldn't restrain his actions. His thrusts were powerful and unrelenting, his hand finding your long hair and gripping it tightly as he increased his speed.

"Fuck... Willy!" you cried out as he piston deeper and faster with each thrust. Pleasure surged through you, tears threatening to spill from the sheer intensity as your body surrendered to his forceful advances. Your core clenched around his relentless shaft, your walls overstimulated, and your cunt dripping with every movement. "Shiii- Willy... Oh god, I'm gonn—"

You couldn't even form coherent words as he pulled your head back, intensifying his movements even further. And you were certain his thrusts would leave a mark on your skin, yet in that moment, you couldn't care less.

William's actions were so fierce and dominant that you had to close your eyes and surrender to him completely. Your body belonged to him, and you had no desire to challenge his power. Instead, you allowed ecstasy to consume you entirely, your moans growing louder and louder as your orgasm surged through your body, mind, and soul, causing you to scream his name for all to hear.

"Fuck, yes... that's my good girl," William praised, maintaining his movements as he felt his own climax nearing. "I fucking love this ass..." And with a swift motion, he let go of your hip to deliver a firm smack to your cheek.

Your wet core seemed tailor-made for his cock as he pounded into you with incredible force, his shaft drenched as it slid in and out of you, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room. With each thrust, he increased his speed, pushing himself closer to the edge, and his deep grunts filled the air as he shut his eyes and moaned deeply, releasing himself into your depths.

The experience was nothing short of amazing and intense. It took a few minutes for both of you to catch your breath and regain your strength before slowly disentangling yourselves from the position. No words were necessary. Your core was sore and tingling, coated with William's release as he withdrew, yet your mind was in a blissful state, completely consumed by the rush.

And William couldn't help but admire his handiwork as he noticed the slight redness on your skin from his actions. With a playful grin spreading across his lips, he gently caressed your cheek before placing a tender kiss on it.

"Fucking love this ass," he repeated, this time softer and filled with desire, causing you to look back at him with a chuckle.

"You're a real problem, Nylander..."

"What do you mean?" he chuckled darkly.

"Look what you've done. Now we both have to shower again and get dressed, meaning we'll be late for dinner..."

It was a familiar scenario. William was notorious on the team for always being late, and for the past four months, you had been one of the main reasons for that. Your sex life had always been adventurous, but it was the spontaneity that made it even more fun. And William made no effort to hide it from anyone.

"Well, then we better get moving," he simply chuckled before getting off the bed with a wide grin.

-

"Finally, you guys decided to show up!" Auston exclaimed as you entered, everyone already seated.

"Still running late, Willy," Mitch chimed in with a chuckle.

"Yeah, but I bet it's not entirely his fault this time," Järnkrok added with a grin and a wink, causing you to blush slightly as you couldn't deny the truth. Yet, you were quick with a retort.

"Well, at least he's getting some action, unlike some others," you said with a cocky smile, eliciting loud 'oooohhhh's from the players, with William laughing loudly beside you.

And the evening unfolded beautifully, as always. Mitch and Stephanie were excellent hosts, and the upscale restaurant buzzed with nothing but laughter and conversations. The delicious food delighted your taste buds, and the atmosphere was overall filled with joy.

And as everyone anticipated the approaching game, it was evident that everyone needed this evening to unwind and simply enjoy each other's company. Yet, one small detail disrupted your comfort.

"Hey, are you okay?" William whispered as he noticed your slight movements in your seat.

"Hmm," you simply nodded before leaning closer to him. "Though... I'm a little sore, Willy," you whispered, unable to suppress a chuckle.

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, flashing a satisfied smirk that earned an eye-roll from you.

"Yeah... you were a bit rough, mister," you smiled.

"Hmm, thought you liked it when I'm rough," he grinned, a statement you couldn't really refute. A significant part of your sex life often involved dominant and submissive play, and truth be told you had no complaints.

"Hmm, maybe I do," you softly admitted. "It's just... not easy to sit when your lady parts have been pounded like that..."

Biting his lower lip, William couldn't resist voicing his naughty thoughts. "Well, then I suppose we'll just have to keep practicing until you get used to it."

Even among close friends and their families, the two of you couldn't control your banter. However, as the night progressed, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

After the third course, you joined a few of the ladies in the bathroom, engaging in heartfelt conversations and sharing experiences from the past few weeks.

"Don't worry, y/n," Aryne spoke sweetly. "It's just the playoffs weighing on him. William will be back to his usual self in no time – it just requires a bit more patience from our side this time of year." The other girls nodded in agreement.

Their words were comforting and reassuring. Being your first time dating a professional athlete, you needed their encouragement and support. And after all, most of them had dealt with their husbands and boyfriends throughout their careers.

"How about a drink?" Tessa then suggested with a smile, earning enthusiastic agreement from the group, including you.

And as you all headed to the bar for drinks, any worries seemed to fade away. Amidst laughter and playful jokes about how the ladies needed drinks to cope with their men, you felt completely at ease and comfortable.

That was, until you suddenly felt someone's gaze on you. And it wasn't your boyfriend's.

A few feet away, a rather handsome man was looking in your direction. Though he could have been staring at any woman in the group, you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you turned your head and met his eyes, and he offered you a smile. It wasn't overly direct or forward; just a man trying to flirt with a woman from across the room.

However, almost instinctively, while trying not to consciously reciprocate the flirting, you soon felt a pair of hands on you. And this time, it was your boyfriend's.

He didn't say a word. William's hand simply found its way to your ass, where it belonged, as he stood close to you, flashing you a sweet smile before planting a kiss on your cheek. You didn't even have to look to know that he was eyeing the man who had been attempting to flirt with you, sending him a clear message with a look that said, 'she's mine,' while discreetly giving your cheek a gentle squeeze.

And you couldn't deny how good it made you feel. Knowing that William was boldly asserting your relationship status to the world had you feeling captivated. Especially since you were aware of the numerous girls who longed to be with him, fantasising about your breakup so they could swoop in. But William didn't hide the fact that he was taken, and that made you smile.

Yet, a small part of you felt the temptation to play with fire.

"Feeling a little jealous, are we?" you chuckled lightly as you sipped your drink, William's hand still firmly on your cheek, while more people joined the group at the bar.

"Mmm, he wants what's mine, and I don't like that," William huskily whispered under his breath.

"Yours? Willy, I'm not anyone's property," you raised an eyebrow, but he simply chuckled darkly.

"Yes, you are," he smirked. "It's part of the deal of being with me. I give you a place to stay, and in return, this belongs to me."

His words ignited another arousal within you, despite having just experienced a wonderful orgasm a few hours earlier.

"Oh, so that's how you see it? Hmm, then maybe I should reconsider giving up my apartment," you challenged him, and it seemed to awaken something primal within your boyfriend.

"No - you can't back out now. I've claimed your ass, and now you're mine."

There was a silent exchange of glances as the intensity of the moment lingered, William's hand remaining firmly in place. However, when Mitch announced the arrival of the next course, you both silently agreed to set aside your playful banter for the time being.

-

It was all fun and games between you and William. Well, most of the time at least.

He'd assert his possessiveness over you, you'd playfully challenge him, and then he'd assert his dominance in a sexual manner, reminding you that you did, in fact, belong to him. However, as Monday rolled around and it was time for the Leafs to face off against the Penguins, the dynamics seemed to shift.

The game was nothing short of exhilarating, but it was almost too intense for your liking. After Pittsburgh scored the first goal in the opening period, Kniesy retaliated in the second, followed by Auston putting the Leafs in the lead in the third. But just when victory seemed within reach, the Penguins fought back, forcing the game into overtime. Fortunately, McCabe saved the day, securing a 3-2 victory for the Leafs on home turf, boosting their confidence before their upcoming trip to New Jersey.

But despite the win, a slight unease lingered within you as you prepared to meet your boyfriend in the hallways after the match. Normally, you prided yourself on not being the jealous type of girlfriend who felt insecure when her boyfriend talked to other girls. However, there was something about this particular girl that set your mind spinning.

She was undeniably stunning, her smile radiant and her eyes sparkling as her brown hair cascaded gracefully down her back. And seeing her laughing and chatting with William sparked a small wave of guilt within you.

Nevertheless, you maintained your composure. Slowly, you approached your laughing boyfriend and gently wrapped your arms around his sturdy frame.

"Oh, hey babe," he chuckled, still engrossed in his conversation with the beautiful girl, only briefly acknowledging your presence.

"What's so funny?" you smiled, trying to join in on the conversation.

"I was just telling Willy here about some of the comments people have left on his Rogers' commercial," the girl explained with a sweet tone and smile. "They're just hilarious."

And William continued to laugh, his signature laughter filling the hallway.

"Oh yeah, those were indeed funny," you tried to laugh along, though the amusement quickly faded.

"Anyway, I better get going," the brunette smiled before bidding farewell to William.

There was a moment of silence as William's laughter subsided and he turned to face you.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"What what?" you replied, feigning ignorance of the fact that he had caught on to your jealousy.

"You know what... you're being jealous," he pointed out with a smirk.

"Well, of course I am," you retorted, your voice firm as you gently crossed your arms over your chest. "My boyfriend's chatting with a gorgeous girl after a win, smiling like he's a teenager seeing boobs for the first time, and acting as if I didn't notice."

"Oh, come on, she's just a journalist, babe," William chuckled nonchalantly.

"Well then why isn't she asking you questions along with the other journalists over there?" you pointed to the station where players usually gave their post-game statements.

"She just came up to me and asked me if..." he trailed off, stopping himself before he dug himself deeper.

"Asking you what?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing..." he tried to brush it off, but he knew it was futile.

"Well, if it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" Your voice softened, tinged with vulnerability as you were reminded of other girls who were interested in your boyfriend.

And letting out a deep sigh, William knew honesty was the best policy. "She asked if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee together..."

"Oh..." you paused for a moment. "And you said yes?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, it doesn't mean anything - she's just doing her job," he chuckled lightly.

"Right... her job... so that means she's also getting coffee with all the other players?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Um... no, I don't think so... but that's because she was there when I did the commercial thing... and she's just... I don't know, catching up, I guess."

You tried your best not to let your frustration show, but William was already aware of your feelings.

"Hey, babe, it's not like she's making any moves - I mean, she's a journalist, she knows I have a girlfriend..." he flashed you a confident smile, and though you didn't trust the journalist's intentions, you trusted your boyfriend.

Just as you expected him to trust you despite other men hitting on you.

So, you let it go and simply let out a calm sigh. "Right, how about we go home then, and I'll remind you just how much I love this relationship," you smirked up at him, gently wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

"Mmm, I don't think I can say no to that," William chuckled, before bidding goodbye to the others and leaving.

You already started the foreplay in the car, teasing his thigh higher and higher until you were close to his groin. Then, in the lift, he couldn't resist, eagerly kissing you as he pressed you against the wall. So, when you entered the condo, you took charge, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, flashing him a lustful smirk as you pulled him towards the bedroom.

William didn't resist; he enjoyed your attempt at dominance. But as soon as you were both in nothing but underwear, he reclaimed his dominant role.

And of course, there was no other way for you to express your desire for your boyfriend than by kneeling in front of him in your fine underwear, opening your mouth as your eyes pleaded for him to feed you with his hard cock.

With you kneeling before him, eager to take him deep into your throat, William felt like he was in heaven. Your warm mouth worked wonders around his throbbing cock, and the small gagging sounds you made whenever he pushed a little too far only added to his pleasure.

You were his submissive, and your sole desire was to please him.

"Mmm, baby, you're so good," he hummed under his breath as you continued to bob your head, focused solely on breathing through your nose as you took him deeper and deeper. Occasionally, you glanced up at him through your lashes, watching as his muscles tensed under your hand, which you used for support while the other stroked his length where your mouth couldn't reach.

But as you pressed yourself further, your nose hitting the pubic hair of his crotch, and you gagged around him, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth and trailing down your chin, William found it incredibly arousing. He held significant power over you, and the sight thrilled him.

However, as he felt his climax approaching, he knew he wasn't ready to finish just yet. So, instead, he withdrew himself from your wonderful mouth. 

"Such a good girl…" he praised softly, before gently guiding you to the bed. But as you moved towards the mattress, you signalled your desire to be on top, and William happily granted your wish.

After removing your underwear, he lay down on his back, and you couldn't help but smile as you straddled his hips. He was already dripping with precum, mixed with your saliva, and your arousal was evident, making it effortless for you to sink down onto his cock and let him fill you up.

"Oh yes, Willy," you moaned as his thick member stretched your entrance, stimulating your walls with every inch.

"Mmm, baby, you feel so good around me," he moaned in harmony, his hands instinctively gripping your hips.

And as your bodies connected, you began to sway your hips, rocking back and forth in sensual motions, your hands finding support on his chest. With each movement, allowing his hardness to glide in and out of your wet core, your moans grew louder. Pleasure rushed through your body, and you increased your pace, your breaths heavy and your mind consumed by sensation.

Then as the intensity grew, your bodies became sweatier and hotter, your vision blurring with each thrust. Addicted to the pleasure, you increased your speed once again, seeking that euphoric high.

"Mmm… shit, Willy," you moaned in a soft cry, your hips moving desperately as your thighs pressed against the man beneath you.

"Yes, älskling… you're such a good girl," William muttered. "Fucking ride me, baby… fucking cum on my dick…"

In the heat of the moment, his words worked like a magic spell, and with a forceful motion, you panted and gasped for air as you reached climax.

You even had to pause your movements, filling your lungs with air as you shut your eyes and cried out his name in pleasure. Your tight muscles pulsed around his shaft as you calmed from the high of your orgasm, your legs trembling from the intensity.

And as you slowly came down from the euphoric state, William sat up, gently pushing his cock a little deeper inside you as he grabbed your hair and pulled you in for a messy kiss.

"Hmm, fucking love it when you make yourself cum on me," he spoke huskily under his breath, and with a smirk adorning your sweaty face, you then started to slowly move your hips again, rocking gently as you kissed his bearded chin and neck, occasionally biting down with your teeth before pulling back.

The room was hot and steamy, and as he felt your cunt pulsating around his member, he felt the need for his own release stirring. So, taking a firm hold of your body, William then turned you both over and pushed your back into the mattress.

In one swift movement, he seized your hands and held them above your head as he began to thrust into you, while your legs instinctively wrapped around his lower body, heels pressing into his skin as you surrendered to his actions. His movements were powerful, yet this time, he attempted to maintain a sense of romance as you exchanged deep, passionate kisses.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, allowing him to thrust mercilessly and deeply, pushing you to the edge of overstimulation as he approached his climax. William's grip on your wrists was strong, and as he pounded even faster, you knew he was nearing completion.

"Oh, yes, Willy, cum for me…" you moaned loudly, gasping for breath as you became undone for him.

"Yeah... baby, I'm so close..." he breathed heavily in response. So, with a few more intense thrusts, William withdrew abruptly, knelt back, and ejaculated onto your lower stomach with a deep grunt. "God...," he moaned huskily as he reached a more intense climax than expected, his sticky white cum covering your skin like a canvas.

It was messy, yet incredibly arousing. Your body still trembled as you recovered from the intense sex, and your legs shook as you gradually regained strength. Meanwhile, William caught his breath, admiring his handiwork.

Your body was undeniably stunning, but what he admired most was how well he knew it and how effortlessly he could please you, eliciting loud moans and squirms with his touch.

And as the two of you gradually returned to reality, smiles graced your faces, unable to contain the sense of satisfaction. Additionally, William naturally assisted in tidying up the aftermath by leading you to the bathroom, where he tenderly and leisurely washed your bodies with lukewarm water cascading over the two of you, sharing deep kisses and reaffirming the connection that had united you from the outset. It was the bond that held you together through the peaks and valleys, through all the challenges you encountered as a couple.

As morning broke and William's alarm shattered your peaceful sleep, you couldn't help but smile as you turned to see his serene expression, while William, true to form, didn't immediately wake from the alarm; he was a dedicated snoozer. Yet, what always brought him to full consciousness was your kiss. You ran your fingers gently through his hair, planting soft kisses all over his handsome face until he slowly opened his eyes.

"God morgon, prinsessa," William murmured huskily, still half-asleep.

"God morgon, min prins," you smiled in return.

Despite the early hour, it was a cosy morning, with the passionate warmth from the night before still lingering between you. Any lingering traces of jealousy were overshadowed by the depth of your relationship, dispelling any intrusive negative thoughts.

As you exchanged lazy morning kisses, William's embrace tightened around you, drawing you closer to his body, the warmth emanating from him as you felt his morning hardness pressing against you. And with a smile of your own, you summoned the strength to position yourself on top of him.

William sat up straight, his bare chest pressed against your breasts as he drew you even nearer, deepening the kiss. However, you pulled back slightly, biting your lower lip before licking them seductively, trailing your fingers along his neck where you admired the faint marks from the night before.

Yet, not entirely satisfied with your handiwork, you returned your lips to his skin, your fingers tangling in his hair as he leaned back against the headboard. Despite the early hour, William could already feel himself responding to your touch, the anticipation of being apart from you again igniting a primal craving.

And his desperate groans only spurred you to bite down harder as you allowed your hips to gently grind against his lap. Your heart rate quickened, breaths becoming shallow, while William's body tensed, releasing a loud moan. Then pulling away from his flushed skin, you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"Hmm," William muttered. "Leaving your mark, are you?" he chuckled mischievously, earning a light nod from you.

"Can't have you walking around without people knowing you have a girlfriend, can we?" you spoke seductively, your fingers delicately tracing the marks you skilfully created.

"And why's that?" William grinned, rhetorically acknowledging the possessiveness stirring within you, mirroring his own.

"Well, maybe there's going to be another journalist trying to grab coffee with you…" you playfully smiled.

"Hmm, yeah, we can't have that, can we," William chuckled, merely acknowledging the playful banter.

There was a brief moment of silence as you both admired each other in the soft morning light, knowing you would only be apart for the day, sharing a tender kiss.

"So," you spoke, pulling away with a pout on your lips, "Are you going to try and hide them?"

But William simply shook his head, a mischievous smile on his face as he gently rubbed his index finger across your lower lip. "No way," he said, his voice a low whisper. "I'm going to show them off."

It was a simple moment, yet it emphasised the possessiveness you both held for each other. Though you trusted each other implicitly, there were still lingering worries in the back of your minds.

You always harboured a nervousness that William might grow bored of you, drawn instead to the other incredibly beautiful women who seemed to appear in his life. Meanwhile, William feared that you might tire of his lifestyle and one day simply decide to leave in pursuit of a more conventional life.

Yet, neither of you had any intentions of parting ways.

#my asks #18+ #Inexperienced!reader x Willy #william nylander imagine #nhl smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #SlutsforPresidentNylander

[ronearoundblindly]

No Promises (2)

Lloyd Hansen x rival assassin!Reader

Don't Be Blue, Bunny Boy (see previous or LH Masterlist)

Summary: Lloyd underestimates how dangerous you are when he finds you wrapped like a gift in his hotel room.

Warnings for smut, but it's Lloyd so there's a knife, a gun, name-calling, cursing, drugging, dubcon due to somno, two a**holes in competition, unprotected sex (honestly, just never do anything Lloyd would do, okay? great. excellent. good chat), and possibly the best banter I've ever written gdi. Darkfic...but, like, funny??? For the love of everything, MINORS DNI. I have plenty else for you on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2k 🫣

*This CT 2024 Challenge work can be read completely out-of-context from the rest of the mini-series (which isn't even written yet anyway, lalalahhhh).

It’s bad enough you took the keycard off that fat fuck of a target first, but failing to follow you smacks Lloyd’s ego in just the wrong way. By the time he gets back to his luxurious hotel room, he’s fuming and itching to shoot something. You don’t need to be a mind-reader to know this; the man is still a man, after all, no matter how trained and controlled he thinks he is.

That’s why you’re here, trussed up in a sapphire blue bodysuit, smirking at the irritation radiating off of your rival as his eyes rake the length of your mostly-bare figure.

“Darling,” you burst, posing like a ‘50s housewife by the armchair, playful and sickeningly sweet. “You’re home! I was so worried.”

Anger quivers his lip coat till he vaguely resembles a pouting porcupine. God, you hate mustaches. You’re willing to bet—if you really put your back into it—you could hump his face with such friction, it’d rub him smooth. There are less-worthwhile endeavors that you’ve completely only today. Why not experiment?

“You have some fucking nerve, bitch.”

Lloyd keeps his steps forward into the room slow and casual, though his ire is obvious. He stops halfway across the carpet, unzips his leather jacket, and tosses it onto the foot of the bed.

He seems surprised when you strut over without hesitation; he hasn’t handed over any weapons, but you haven’t asked for a reason. Lloyd’s reputation is cocky, commanding, and curious—in that order—so he won’t start speculating till it’s too late.

Indeed, what possible harm could you inflict wearing this lil’ ol’ thing, huh?

As you get closer, his hand reaches out instinctually.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tsk in warning. “If you rip my lace, I will gut you like a fish. Understood?”

“Can’t make any promises, but…”

Lloyd, undeterred, clamps his hand between your legs and runs a finger through your folds, proving the crotchless lingerie isn’t in danger of typical snags.

The pad of his digit is rough and teasing.

“I think we can work with that,” he growls.

Oh yes, he’s definitely, perfectly, and predictably cocky. What fun you’ll have.

You make a show of gasping when he starts dipping two fingers into your heat, rolling your head as if truly undone by the minimal effort, and wait for him to watch his own ministrations, distracted.

Then you strike.

You grab his wrist, twisting harshly, yanking the arm behind him, straddling his shoulders so your legs pinch over his neck, and he turns slightly to nip at your thigh. You’re not surprised he still thinks he’ll win.

His steely eye winks as he looks up.

“Bet I can make you cum first.”

A dramatic sigh escapes you. You release his arm to sensually smooth your palm down his body, bending to whisper, “that implies I give a shit if you come at all.”

You fling yourself backwards, using the momentum to catapult him over you and into the side of the bed.

The mustache emphasizes his sneer when Lloyd pushes up on an elbow.

“I, too, like using a firm hand when breaking bitches’ spirits,” he mutters, reaching for his switchblade which you present instead, wiggling it in your hand with a grin.

“Oh, bunny boy, were you too firm to notice my gentle caress?” You deftly unlatch and expose the knife’s edge. “Now, strip.”

You tick the blade quickly for effect.

“Show me some skin so I can mark my two points so far. I know how you love to keep score.”

Lloyd rights himself, peeling his black turtleneck over his head and smoothing his hair into place calmly. “I can kill you just as easily naked as I can clothed.”

“Of course, cutie pie, and I’m counting on many little deaths.” You look at the knife in your hand, concerned. “Please tell me this isn’t the biggest weapon you're packing, or I’ll be so disappointed.”

He’s smug while unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants. Lloyd Hansen now proudly stands stark nude.

You let your eyes go comically wide, but then your brow furrows and you shrug.

“You’re welcome to keep talking while I sit on your face, but otherwise… I’m unimpressed.”

Lloyd huffs with indignation.

“Fuck you.”

Like the footballer he used to be, he rushes you.

“Promise?” you coo, dodging him and landing a sharp smack to his butt cheek. It’s spectacularly sculpted, plump, and rock hard all at once.

“Oh my! Darling, you did not lead with your best asset…” You notice the faint scar on his pale skin and giggle. “Little prick got pricked, I see.”

Your amusement gives him a split second to grab you, and Lloyd uses the opportunity to shove you back into the window so violently the thick glass rattles its frame.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he spits viciously, not so cocky as before.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been begging you to do for me, sweetheart?”

Mouth hanging open in a taunt, one hand strokes him, the other warns. The tip of the knife you still wield barely grazes the notch between ribs where you could swiftly puncture his lung. Lloyd watches, fuming and mesmerized, until you transfer the pooling saliva to your palm and resume jerking his cock.

“A firm hand really does make you harder, doesn’t it?”

That snaps him out of it.

He scrambles to bend you over that same armchair you started at, and Lloyd’s version of prep is a single, perfunctory dig of two fingers into your cunt.

To his credit, you are dripping wet for him, so, though his need to check before chaffing himself wasn’t necessary, he rewards you with a beautifully debauched moan as he sinks to the hilt with one thrust.

Lloyd’s got something to prove.

Good.

He’s so focused on groping around to your breasts beneath the stretchy lace that you stick the switchblade deep into the chair’s cushion and hold on; whatever else you’re doing is irrelevant to him. There is only fucking. There is only feeling as if he owns you in this moment.

You let out a high whine and goad him. “Love it when you’re gentle with me, sweetie.”

That earns you an unhinged snarl and the pummeling slap of his hips against your thighs.

He’s so easy to motivate, a majestic maniac on a mission to turn you stupid, if only until the stench of sex dissipates. If the idiot would just reach down to your clit, you’d spare him, but Lloyd is a man.

A selfish, egotistical princeling who’s a good marksman and a shit human. Good, for the business you two are in. But not as good as you.

You sigh like you’re bored, sinking your chin to rest on your outstretched arms.

He stops moving, grunting as he pulls out of you and snapping one of your shoulder straps.

“Fine. You wanna put in the work, sunshine? You go for it.” Lloyd flops onto the bed, face up, his arms spread wide and high.

Of course, he’s going for the gun under the pillow. You know it, you’ve anticipated it, and you decided it would be a nice safety blanket to leave him, to keep him feeling comfortable.

So you crawl on top of him anyway, rocking yourself against his cock for a few seconds before shifting higher. You giggle for emphasis.

You’re just here to fuck him. You’re just here to fuck with him. That’s the truth, and he knows it. Lloyd simply doesn’t know the conditions of both your releases…yet.

“Such a desperate slut,” he rumbles as you settle above his face.

Before you cover your view of him, you pinch at his jaw and smirk.

“Only munches wear a fucking mustache.”

His cheek gets a condescending pat when he smiles back.

He’s cute when he’s having fun, apparently.

Lloyd licks his lips and slowly lifts his head to swipe at your entrance. “You owe me that fucking keycard.” He delicately kisses your folds before his tongue darts out to circle your clit. “And I’ll get it from you one way or another.”

You can hear the rustle of his hand over the sheet. Not even a solid suck on your cunt, and he’s already going for the gun…

“Oh, come on,” you plead, ignoring his threat. “Finish your meal, champ. I know you can do it.”

His eyes narrow, peeking past your mound as he growls, gripping your thighs hard enough for you to collapse forward.

Sloppy. The best word to describe Lloyd eating pussy is sloppy. He contributes as much as you do to the glide of his whole face over every intimate inch of skin. Because you’re sitting with weight mostly on him—some of it still rests on your knees—each movement pushes his nose, lips, tongue, and stache around with enough fervor to polish your raw nerves.

Honestly, it’s a shame he ruins the moment by slipping his hand under the pillow and pressing the silencer's muzzle to your side.

Petulance dialed to maximum, you whimper, “you said I could come first!”

Your hand falls below your navel, clutching the lace like he’s already wounded you, and Lloyd proceeds to laugh right into your cunt.

He doesn’t have time to form a comeback once you peel the sheer, protective layer away from the patch of fabric a mere inch above the opening of the bodysuit. If he’d have paid any proper attention to you, he’d’ve found it, but he didn’t.

The fumes of chloroform-drenched cobalt engulf Lloyd in the suffocating proximity of the bed and your body. He has nowhere to go but under.

The gun falls away once his limbs go lax.

You sit directly on his chest for the few seconds it takes to realign the inner and outer barriers of your dainty, chemical warfare, then you shimmy off of him.

He actually looks quite peaceful this way.

His features are carefree, his broad, smooth chest rises and falls steadily, and his…

Well.

Lloyd’s dick lays erect and proud on his stomach, unfazed by unconsciousness. It’d be an even greater shame to waste that.

“It’s ok, peanut,” you whisper out of habit now, forced to imagine the twitch of his lip, the pop of the vein in his neck. “This is your chance to make it up to me.”

It’s not difficult to take him into your still-sopping core, and once you angle yourself to grind on the cut of his abs, all Lloyd’s previous buildup rushes back. His ass may be the star of the show, but his dick is no fluffer act. He’s packing enough to nudge at that perfect spot relentlessly as you ride him, and you openly mewl as you approach the height of your orgasm.

You imagine he’d say you sound so pretty and pathetic.

He’d probably ask if this is the best you can do, but that makes you fuck him harder until you crash into a wall of pleasure, sweaty, exhausted, resting against that broad chest.

You catch your breath after a short while, skin humming with excitement. Absently, your hands paw at his sides for a tiny bit of comfort.

That thought gets buried in a tense heartbeat, and you climb off the bed, pleased to notice the sheer amount of cum and his softening dick means he finished, too.

You’ll leave that as a souvenir.

The plan was to carve a little message on him—nothing that would permanently scar—but you can’t bring yourself to mar such a glorious ass. That would be akin to treason. Seriously, if he had simply walked around you in a bathing suit with that thing, you would have slipped the keycard into his waistband and thanked him for his service to your wet dreams.

A bit of dried cum smeared all over his pelvis and dripping down his balls, his useless pistol still in-hand, will do fine as a statement.

You clean yourself up, snatching your real clothes from the closet where you hung them tidily beside his own, and give a gentle grip to his immobile knee where it hangs off the bed.

“Sweet dreams, bunny boy. Maybe I'll let you win next time.”

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

This work was written for the amazing and inspirational Cum Together Extravaganza hosted by @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420, but a special thanks to @buckymorelikefuckme for the earworm that would not quit. Poppy, you dark enabler you... I fucking love you!

Prompts: "Bet I can make you cum first." || Somnophilia || enemies-to-lovers || Characters A + B cum together at the same time

dividers by @/saradika-graphics (blue art deco) and @/cafekitsune

#CT 2024 raffle entry #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen smut #dark fic #dark!lloyd hansen #or is this soft? #i can't even tell anymore 😣 #ct 2024 #engagement challenge

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

A head cannon where Grayson gets kidnapped

of course! i'll do it in a similar format as my 'if *insert name* died' posts because i think it makes more sense. wrote this late at night so may be shitty. hope you like them <3.

avery

she'd be one of the people in charge of finding him. she'd be running around looking for clues. she'd think a missing toothbrush was a clue bc she'd be so desperate.

she'd try to keep xander sane because he'd be freaking out in the corner. she'd be patting his head telling him his brother wasn't being forced into selling his suits (his pride and joy) (yes, xander thinks this would happen)

she'd be so anxious she's start biting her nails until they bleed. at the end of the day, she'd end up with bandages around her hands bc of it.

she'd be really impatient with everybody. if they didn't work fast enough for her taste, she's start screaming at them to go faster.

jameson

he'd be sad but find it hilarious at the same time bc big old grayson who never makes mistakes got kidnapped

he'd think of it as a game to distract himself from the fact that his brother might be dead in a ditch.

he'd secretly be crying with xander in the corner (he wouldn't let anyone know though)

when they find the guy who kidnapped grayson, he gives him a good beating before they take him to jail. he beats him up so bad, he almost ends up have to pay a fine.

xander

like i said, he'd be crying in the corner thinking of the worst case scenario. he'd be imagining grayson being hung by his balls and would start crying even more.

he'd start saying the craziest shit. the others would try to find clues as to where he is, and xander would just be like what if they're shaving his beautiful hair off to create a rug.

he'd be organizing his funeral before even finding grayson. he'd be crying asking everyone what flowers they think grayson would like best at his funeral.

when they finally find grayson, he'd act like he didn't go through the 5 stages of grief. he'd pretend to be the one who was least affected by all of it.

nash

he'd be the first one in the car heading off to look for him. he wouldn't give a damn about clues.

he'd have to lock himself in a room to have a mini panic attack cause he doesn't want to let anyone see

he'd be taking care of everyone. xander would be hyperventilating in the corner and he'd go sit next to him telling him to breathe with him. gigi would end up fainting and he'd end up splashing water on her etc.

when they finally find grayson, he'd wrestle his ass cause we know damn well grayson got himself kidnapped in someone else's pace.

alisa

she'd be the one who's most sane. she would tell everyone to calm down and look at the situation from another angle or smth like that

she'd be the one doing all the important calls and sending the emails.

at the same time, she'd be really worried so she's be rushing the police and investigators to go quicker.

she'd also be making sure everyone ate and drank water to make sure no one ended up fainting or smth (gigi still ended up fainting though)

libby

she'd bake cupcakes for everyone to cheer them up.

she'd be holding avery or nash in her arms trying to get them to calm down (nash might not seem like he's freaking out, but he is)

alisa would be so rough with the police officers and investigators that libby would rush in apologizing for alisa's behavior.

max

she's trying to comfort xander but is failing miserably at it because he's wailing like a 2 year old.

she'd be having a midlife crisis wondering how the hell they even got into this situation

she'd actually swear (not her fake swear words) and people would all turn around to look at her simultaneously as if she'd just announced she was pregnant with the rock's baby

gigi

like i said, she would most definitely faint. she's get so nervous, she'd start having a panic attack, and then she'd faint.

she'd basically be like xander. she'd come up with the worse case scenarios in her head, but those worst case scenarios actually ended up being quite funny (like grayson being forced to walk around looking like elmo)

she'd be relying on coffee to keep her alive. by the end of the day, she'd have had like 20 cups of coffee.

when they finally found grayson, she'd punish him by buying him a box full of cats.

savannah

she'd pretend like the whole situation wasn't affecting her but it was.

she'd be panicking, cursing grayson out because gigi passed out (she won't admit it but she felt bad cursing him out bc she loves him)

she'd be looking at the others thinking about how crazy they are. she'd be texting her mom exasperated asking her how she even got into this situation

when they finally find grayson, she smacks his head and then gives him a very quick mini kiss on the cheek bc she's relieved to see him

that's all! hope you like them. i have a ton of other head canons requests i have to work on, so these next hcs posts may be a bit rushed. i apologize if they're not as good.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #alisa ortega #savannah grayson #gigi grayson

[m0tiv8me]

MAYbe I CAN! Check In.

Ok positive people time to report in for the May Challenge.

What will you be doing for at least 15 minutes to benefit your mental and or physical well being each day in May.

Here’s mine:

15 minutes dedicated to stretching, pushups and crunches each day. I’m stacking these together meaning I’ll start with some stretching, followed by some pushups and then do crunches while resting between pushups and then finish with more stretching.

I travel a lot for work, a gym is not always an option and sometimes my workdays turn out to be 14-16 hours long. I needed something that I can do literally anywhere at almost anytime. Morning, night, whatever fits. This feels practical and feasible to me and I won’t get frustrated or overwhelmed by it.

I was going to set a specific number of pushups and crunches for my 15 minutes each day but I fully expect to improve throughout the month. So to add another degree of challenge I’ll be working to increase the numbers I complete in my 15 minutes each day. Excited to see what type of improvement I can make from the start of May to the end.

——————-

So! What will your 15 minutes be used for? Mental health focused such as reading, writing, meditation, or something more physical like yoga, walking running, lifting etc.

Make it challenging but make it feel possible. Most importantly MAKE TIME FOR IT. 15 minutes each day that’s it. Easy peasy you can totally do it.

Daily update posts will go live each day at 12:00AM with those participating tagged. Reblog and be accountable by adding a brief update on your days success. Even if you struggled that’s fine, life happens and not everyday will be a win. If you didn’t hit a goal or make it happen how you’d like no worries. Still report in if you can and be accountable. We all need to see that each of us is human and that we struggle at times and help lift each other back up.

If you prefer to post your own and not reblog the daily post go for it. Add the tag #maybe I can or tag me @m0tiv8me so I can find it. I’ll be doing my best to keep tabs but I may miss some.

If you wish to remain private and not share publicly no problem. If you feel comfortable doing so my DM’s are open to anyone who wishes to share updates and report in. I will not be tagging anyone who prefers to keep private.

That’s it, you have until tomorrow to decide what your 15 minutes will be used for. Can’t wait to cheer each other on and stay accountable together for May.

@thoughts-sex-desires @definitely-grown @perspective24 @joshuamusclefan @52fit @runningfromthecuccos @athousandmorningss @marine-corps-strong @healthymist @integrationslady

#maybe i can #may challenge #you got this #15 minutes #physical health #mental health.

[dairy-farmer]

There was an arc, where Tim fought to destroy an Evil VR Hivemind Internet type world? And that's got me thinkin~! So brace for another longish one! If the technology is POSSIBLE?

Why not a dumbed down, safeties in place, VR world?

Some tech genius manages to create it, it actually works, takes the world by storm. Is markted as the True Do Anything Game. And obviously, it's an intelligence agency's and superheroes worst nightmare. Crooks are meeting up through the game to make deals. The creator is scrambling to keep up and put safeties in place to stop them.

Obviously, Tim has to catch them, right?

But he can't look like Tim Drake! Luckily you can customize whenever you want. And he chose an intentionally vague username. But... it's? Nice. Being anonymous. Not being stuck under layers of disguise. Playing flashy games and dancing on unrealistic dance floors.

He catches his targets, considers logging out.

But to what? Cold take out and trash TV? This is the closest to a night "out" he's had in a while. His body is even getting rested! Laying still and (mostly) relaxed on his bed. So... fuck it. He's gonna be young and hot for once. Make friends he'll never see again, come tomorrow.

And THATS when? One of his glittery new twink friends? Leans over and tells him, like it's a dirty lil secret, the BEST part of this new "game"! No consequences hook ups. No really bodies, means no disease! No real faces or names? Means go nuts! Cut loose! Destress a bit and go wild!

And... Tim DOES have a lot of stress...

So he searchs around the various party spots, for someone that looks like he can lift Tim one handed, bend him in half, then destroy him. Because you can accuse him of many things, but being interested in the safe and boring option is not one of them.

"Burns_Malone".

A transparent nod to Matches, Bruce's criminal alias. Tim would laugh at the guy if his muscles weren't glorious. Clearly a goon fan boy. But! A HOT goon fan boy. So Tim decides to try his luck.

His luck is fantastic.

One unfairly hot make out session and some holoscreen clicks later, they are in a private "hangout" room. The kind someone so very kindly stuffed a bed into. Nice. And then? It occurs to Tim? "Oh HEY, not my real body... means no incriminating marks or patrol stopping bruises, tomorrow! I really CAN cut loose!"

So he demands that Malone REALLY puts his back into it. Bend him in half and make a Gotham man see God. Feels Malone go DANGEROUSLY, delightfully still beneath him, as he purrs his gleefully bratty demands right into his ear. Those strong hands tightening on his hips. He's gonna get put RIGHT were Malone wants him~

And he does.

Held open, pinned down. Dragged into just the right position to rock his world. Feeling gloriously split apart in away he'd never let himself have normally. Because he wouldn't be able to WALK afterwards. Claiming, brutal hands. Hot and perfect against his skin, making him feel so WANTED and desired. Getting dragged down to meet each powerful thrust, feeling that thick rod DRAG against and reshape EVERYTHING.

By the time he logs out, his pants are a sodden mess.

He's definitely hooked.

(And, unbeknownst to him, so is Bruce.)

He goes back, during his down times, to "destress".

Meets an acrobat at a virtual circus. They keep their masks on, seem so familiar. The guy's a fan of the Flying Graysons, Tim gets bent over dressing bench, surround by sequins and silks, beneath the eternal grin of his brother. It shouldn't be as hot as it is. He's lifted and balanced with such EASE. Treated like a sweet little treasure, even as his body is pounded and teased mercilessly.

(Dick is enchanted. In love. HAS to find the man he... "met" at the circus.)

Then there's the man at The Library. It's hailed as the largest of the modern age. Sue Tim, he got curious. They literally run into each other, rounding a corner. They talk books. Talk Gotham. Shit talk the mayor. Tim is seduced by cheesy pickup lines. Totally laughs at him, when his "Hangout" room of default is "Night in The Library". Neeeerd~!

His laughter gets kissed of his face. And yeah, he can admit, it's pretty intimate here. Soothing. Makes every noise he makes seem so LOUD. Which of course immediately becomes a problem when Nerdy Pants decides to reveal his Savant Level oral.

Propped up in an over stuffed chair, legs over Library Guy's shoulders, with nothing but the crackle of the fireplace and the sound Tim's choking on, trying not to make? He's loosing his MIND. Melting. Library Guy's fingers deep inside him, rubbing and fucking against just the right spots. His mouth relentless and hungry on Tim's poor clit. It's over embarrassingly fast.

But it keeps GOING.

He just trails claiming little kisses, with the barest hint of teeth, up and up. Consumes Tim's mouth. Fingers come free. And then he's replaced them with something bigger. Bent Tim in half. Doesn't let up.

Leaving Tim pinned. Barely able to breathe. Getting filled again and again, lazy at first but faster and harder as time passes. Nothing but pressure and pleasure and TAKING IT. Feeling claimed. The center of the world. Of his focus. He hasn't ONCE stopped talking. Praising. Tim is so good, taking it so well. Being so good for him.

(It feels like falling in love. Coming home. Jason goes a little bit insane. HAS to find the guy. You don't understand-!)

And really? Tim's hook up streak has been flawless, he thinks. Decides to check out some gaming areas. Maybe do a little Role Play. And? Most bore him. But one game seems fun. He picks staff fighter, for obvious reasons. Stumbles upon a... frankly absurd Beast Master. Dude has a ZOO.

Isn't even fighting. Well, he IS. But... HE fights. The animals wait. Then he goes back to trying to tame the horned bunny rabits.

Obviously Tim has to meet this guy. That's kinda hilarious.

Together, they hunt down the Rare And Elusive Tricorn(tm). Thing is massive and brutal looking. Beast Master dude clearly adores it. Treats it like a baby. But, in order to catch the next creature on his list? They have to wait for the night cycle. Unfortunately, Tim did not know "camp kits" were a thing. So... no, dude. He DOESN'T have a bed roll to wait out here and heal up.

It's either hike back to town or share yours.

Tim offers to be the little spoon, if that helps. Apparently it does. He gets all of 15 minutes of lite napping before he feels a not so little friend come to say hello. Oh~? Beast blusters. It means nothing! Tim's pants are just very form fitting! Desperate, red faced excuses!

And now? Well now Tim's GOTTA.

A hand on his chest, run teasingly dooooown to his belt. Is that SO, Beast Master? Mmmhm? The man chokes on his words. Watches, wide eyed, as Tim leans down ever so slowly, a licks a strip up his length. Swallows him to the root. He makes the most delightfully desperate, needy, sound. Hands spasming at his side, clearly having no idea what to do with them.

By the time Tim is straddling him, slowly lowering himself down onto that thick cock, he's figured it out. Hands trying to drag his hips down faster. Roving over his skin to touch and claim. Tim let's the man flip them. Looming, panting and wild eyed, over him. Shaking like he's overwhelmed, his hands a vice around Tim's hips, bent over like he's moments from crumbling.

The snap of his hips is DESPERATE. Like if he doesn't fuck as deep as he can RIGHT NOW, he'll die. Folding forward to rest his head on Tim's shoulder, panting against his skin, fucking like he's trying to break him. It's so clumsy. Virginal and inexperienced. Completely missing his best spots half the time, focused on chasing his own pleasure.

Tim is the one who has to tease his body. To play with his clit. But... but the way he's so DESPERATE for him? Whining. Nearly sobbing for air? Hips jerking and stuttering? It's good. So, so good. Beast fills him over and over. Clings to him. He logs out wishing he could take that stuffed feeling with him.

(Damian has become a man. But is equal parts frantic and furious with the realization that he can't Take Responsibility for his actions. Where THE FUCK is his Lover?! He needs to FIND THEM! Aaaaaaa-!)

Things are going great! Tim continues to hook up. Unknowingly, with Capes. Because frankly? He has A Type. It leaves horny, horny chaos in its wake. Until! For, you know, No Reason in Particular *cough* Batman FINALLY manages to break in to the HQ of the VR game's offices, get to their mainframe, and download the FULL user base archive.

For Justice reasons, obviously.

To Catch Criminals, of course.

DEFINITELY not to look up one specific user name and trace it back to its user's location, cross reference street addresses, and start working through apartment numbers searching for a VR device. That would be WRONG and they'd never do that.

....... but I mean..... IF THEY DID? Well~ Tim's in for a suprise :D

-🐼🐼🐼

if there's one thing bats will be: its obsessed!!!! bruce, dick, jason, and damian hopelessly pining over a vr hookup only to find out it was tim all along is soo good!!!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[yappersblog]

adore you — emily engstler [requested]

request. “the cameras at emily's game are always panning towards you be ur in complete awe of her and everyone loves it : and theres a moment where its halftime and its a cute segment of you and emily being cute n kissing 🥹”

tag-list. @euphternal

synopsis. every moments of emily’s matches are important—but the most loved ones are definitely the ones with you in it.

author’s note. loooove this! i’m still working on the other requests, don’t worry, i’m just posting the ones that i’ve already done. i don’t know if it’s good, i’m quite skeptical about ut but i tried my best. hope you’ll like this 💖

help. schatz means treasure in german.

“oh god, wait for me please!” you practically shout, trying to make your voice perceptible among the screaming crowds.

“take my hand” emily’s sister screams to you, grabbing your hand in hers and leading you through the basket-ball court—whose filled with people, coaches and cameras ready to record.

while searching for your seats, you can’t help but smile a little when you see more than half of the stands being full of fans—all of them wearing their favorite team’s jersey, some even waving their hand-made board in the air; trying to get one of the players’ attention.

you didn’t expect today’s match to be this full, but you’re not the one complaining—being genuinely happy to witness the fans’ interest increasing for your girl’s team.

the louisville team’s girls work really hard every single day. so, watching them getting the recognition they deserve can’t do anything but warm your heart.

looking around you, you feel the hand of em’s sister tightening around yours; the big-ass crowds scaring you two a little bit—even though you got used to it, it still feels a little bit scary to be surrounded by hundreds of people who don’t really care about pushing you down the floor, or even squashing you and not apologising for it.

“right here!” it’s your turn to lead danielle to your seats, once you finally find them.

climbing up the little stairs, you smile to the few fans that recognise you—even ask some of them how they are doing—and finally take place on your assigned chair, danielle sitting next to you.

“it’s so full today, what even happened?” she says, taking her phone out of her pocket to send her little sister a message—letting the latter know that the two of you are still alive.

“don’t know. it’s cool though, maybe they’ll stop sleeping on emily” you shrug, the blonde laughing at your pouting face.

everyone knows that you’re emily’s number one fan.

firstly because it is your girlfriend duties to be supportive, but also because the cameramen always find a way to sneak footage of you cheering loudly on your girl—ass off your chair, mouth wide open and all.

at first, it was only little sequences of you encouraging em and the team.

but at some point, those little sequences became longer ones—ones where we can see you getting from a cheering state, to a love-sick one; heart-eyeing your girl each time she was in your radar (which means every time since you’re obsessed with her).

the fans found your behaviour endearing.

but what they found even more endearing, were all the half-times when you couldn’t help yourself but run down those stairs and join emily’s awaiting arms—snatching some coo’s out the crowds.

slowly, your whole persona started to attract attention.

everyone loved how much care and support you gave to your girlfriend. you always let her know that she’s doing so well, ramble about how she’s a brilliant player full of talent and that her hard-work will always pay off.

and they adored the way you didn’t care about the cameras—still ready to get up from your seat to shout loudly if it was needed.

the cameramen kind of understood the people’s attraction; and finding your reactions interesting enough to be filmed, they couldn’t help but start feeding it—cameras following your every little moves when you were seen at a game.

it doesn’t really bother you; you might not even notice it, too caught up in the game to do so—only realising that you’re being filmed when danielle’s elbow hit your side, or when the little laughs around you get a little bit louder.

since then, the photographs’ pastime always turns out to be recording your slightest reactions.

“oh gosh, they’re already on your ass” you hear danielle chuckles on your right, the palm of her hand hiding her smiling lips. “how does it feel to be a superstar?” she asks right away, amused by this whole situation.

“dumb ass…” she laughs again when you press your elbow against her side, and you smile a little—eyes focused on the court in front of you.

a few minutes pass by; your girlfriend’s sister and you chatting during each one of them, before abruptly stopping to loudly cheer when the players finally make their entrance.

you were already cheering, but now that you finally see your baby walking out the dressing-room, you’re cheering twice as loudly—and you can’t help it. it’s like an automatic reflex type of shit.

from up there, you see emily looking around the stands—snatching more screams from the fans—and then getting attacked by hailey, who jumps on her back while pointing at you and danielle.

locking eyes with your girl, you practically feel your cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “she’s so, UGH” danielle bursts out laughing, and you smile a little—still mesmerised by your girl’s beauty.

from her neatly braided hair, to her sexy-ass tattooed legs, everything about her makes you a giggling mess. and the cameraman, whose been recording you since the beginning, seems to be living for it.

your eyes still locked, you take advantage of her not doing anything and tell her that you love her—ready to shout it out without a doubt, with your face on the national television or not.

hearing your scream, the whole louisville team’s burst with laughter—some of them teasing emily, who don’t seem to care; too busy saying it back to you.

“you two are so cute, it’s sickening” you hear danielle mumbling, the girl shaking her head like a disappointed mom. it’s your turn to laugh, pinching her cheek.

“awww, we love you too dan’” she rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless when you press a little kiss on her cheekbone. “jealous bitch…” you mutter once you’re comfortably seated, danielle gasping loudly before slapping your arms a few times.

the opposite teams dap each other’s up, and soon enough—the match begins.

your ass, during the whole first part of it, is definitely not on your chair, too busy cheering like there’s no tomorrow to do so. you even argued with the referee from your seat, danielle laughing her ass off next to you and the cameras setting their lens on your screaming figure.

it’s already half-time when danielle leaves to go get drinks and snacks, leaving you alone.

some fans sitting behind you call your name, and next second, you’re turned in their direction—speaking about the match and the louisville team’s score.

too caught up in your discussion, you don’t even remember yourself to turn in your seat and watch your girlfriend—but one of the girls in front of you does it for you, her eyes trailing on the basket-ball court before widening in shock. “oh my god! emily ensgtler’s looking in our direction!” she screams, attracting some of the crowd’s attention.

spinning on your chair, you can’t help but smile with all your teeth when you lock eyes with your girl—the german waving her hand in your direction, silently asking you to run down those stairs; which you are already doing.

“baby—oh!” she lets out a small scream when your whole body violently collides with hers, her tattooed arms automatically moving to wrap themselves around your waist.

smiling against the skin of her neck, you embraced her as hard as you can, not even minding her sweaty state.

the two of you swing a little from left to right, entangled with each other, before you finally decide to get your face out of her collarbone—puckering your lips for her to press hers against them.

humming into the kiss, you don’t even hear the crowd cooing, enamoured by the blonde girl in front of you. “you played so well baby” she smiles softly, pride and appreciation filling her up. “‘m so proud of you, you don’t even know how much” you add, locking your eyes with hers—letting her know that everything’s coming out your mouth is sincere.

“thank you baby, means a lot” you know that she’s not heavy on expressing her feelings and all—especially not in front of hundreds of people—so you appreciate her trying. “you know, i couldn’t play so well if my little cheerleader wasn’t there” she pinches your hip, watching intently as your cheeks become red.

“it’s my job, i take it very personally!” the blonde laughs, her smile making your heart melts.

her inked fingers get tighter on the fabric of your pants. “oh i know schatz, i know…” a little silence takes place—and you rest your forehead against hers.

being with emily is like muting the world’s noises, everything’s become clear and much more bearable.

she’s like every illnesses’ remedy—or at-least to yours, because, ironically enough, you swear you’ve never been this healthy before.

she brings to you so much happiness, love and care, and you do it too—drowning her under tons of affection and appreciation.

to you, it feels like you were put on earth to complete each other.

to the cameras, you were just another cute couple who happens to be very supportive of each other—one showing it more than the other, by screaming and shouting cheers every time she gets the chance to.

but who cares about what they can possibly think about you two?

as long as you’re still here to loudly cheer on her, and that she has your body in between her arms at the end of the day—emily doesn’t give two fucks.

written by © yappersblog, i do not accept plagiarism—this is my work and only mine.

#emily engstler #emily engstler fluff #emily engstler x reader #wcbb #emily engstler imagine #paige bueckers #emily engstler x y/n #paige bueckers x reader #hailey van lith #louisville #louisville wbb team #wcbb fluff #wcbb x reader #caitlin clark #kk arnold #imagine #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers imagine #emily engstler fic #emily engstler x oc #x reader #wnba fluff #wnba x reader #wlw

[changingplumbob]

Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 4

This is Halloween, Halloween, Halloween

Bob: Costume time! Okay friends and fans, it’s time for our Halloween special, who wants to make a pumpkin pie with me?

From beside Bob the droid chirps to indicate that people are tuning in.

Bob: As you can see I have chosen to be a rebel pilot today. I’ll be keeping this on for the bake and my bake sale but something tells me the boss would not approve of me turning up to work in it. Okay let’s run through all our ingredients

The drone chirps while Bob begins preparations. Eliza’s suggestion to get the drone may have stemmed from a place of wanting the flashiest one but Bob appreciated having a set of eyes he could look at when he talked.

Bob: Ugh, kneading, not my favourite part after I’ve already done a workout but hey, that’s on me

He continues to narrate his baking, even getting the drone to read out a question or two that viewers have sent in about the recipe. In the end he pulls one excellent pumpkin pie out of the oven, a perfect Halloween treat.

Bob: Come one, come all to Bob’s Bars! We don’t just have our classic beloved lemon bars today, we have cake and cookies for the sweetness you want on Halloween. If you’re having all that sugar, may as well get full eating it!

The first few customers seem unimpressed with Bob’s selling today but when some new sims walk up to purchase suddenly decide maybe the baking isn’t so bad.

Fergus: Hey Onyx could you- woah! What are you

Onyx: A knight obviously. I see you’re going with the classic skeleton

Fergus: No point fixing what isn’t broke. But could you please help me with my bike? Dad’s busy with the sale and I don’t want to interrupt mother when she’s practicing her speech

Onyx: Sure, I can try. Hop on and I’ll try explain, remember I only just learnt how to ride before my birthday

Fergus: Oh yeah, that’s right

So Fergus wobbles his way around the yard with Onyx doing their best to provide guidance.

Bob: Alright folks, my shift will be starting soon. Who’s going to be customer of the day and buy the last lemon bar?

Harvey: Hello. Do you have bake sales often

Bob: Why yes I do sir

Harvey: How convenient! And do you get positive reviews

Bob: Indeed I do

Harvey: Well then person I’ve never met I would like to buy the last lemon bar

After Bob makes the sale Harvey tells everyone around him how good it is while Bob packs up. It’s good to have friends.

Eliza greets the first trick or treater and offers them some candy. The kid leaves happy and Ginger comes out of the house very confused.

Ginger: *whines* What’s going on

Eliza: Ginger sweetie it’s just me, it’s just mother. Here let me give you a brush

Ginger: *barks* you may not look like mother but you definitely smell the same

Then it’s dinner time for the Pancakes left at home.

Fergus: Dad left us roast! Awesome

Eliza: Onyx will you be able to eat in that helmet

Onyx: I could ask you the same question. But I won’t, because I’m a good kid who deserves a horse

Fergus: *laughs*

The trio chat and eat while Ginger looks on. Sure she has biscuits in her bowl but that looks like real meat on the table. Why won’t they feed her that?

Onyx takes care of the dishes and Fergus decides it’s time for Ginger to learn another trick, playing dead. Mustering his drama skills he does his best to show her what to do, but she remains skeptical of the exercise. Fergus keeps trying though and eventually Ginger catches on, rolling to the floor.

Fergus: You did it! Well done Ginger, we’re stars

*doorbell rings*

Eliza: Onyx could you get that one

Onyx: Sure mother

They open the door to the deck candy all prepared and are greeted by a teen girl dressed as a maid.

Zhafira: Trick or treat

Onyx: Uhh… what

Zhafira: *laughs* I mean for me

Onyx: Oh, right. Have some candy?

Zhafira: Why thank you

Onyx has just decided they should ask what high school the stranger attends when she turns and skips off down the drive.

Carson pops over to visit and become best friends with Onyx!

Onyx: Where’s your costume

Carson: I’m dressed as someone who doesn’t care about Halloween

Onyx: Your loss. Hey, have you seen a girl at school?

Carson: There are many girls at school

Onyx: I mean a specific one, she’s a brunette with a bob cut

Carson: You don’t know a name

Onyx: She left pretty quickly, but she was cute and I wondered why I hadn't noticed her before

Carson: People keep aging Onyx, so more teens. But sorry I don’t really find many people cute at our school so haven't noticed

Onyx: You said that last year. But if you know you’re bi you must have been attracted to someone once right

Carson: I mean, it’s going to sound stupid...

Onyx: You’re my best friend, sound as stupid as you like

Carson: I mean I’ll find a guy or girl pretty but my daydreams are usually romance filled instead of woohoo filled

Onyx: Huh. So are you like, anti-kissing

Carson: I don't know, growing up is confusing

Onyx: You’re telling me

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#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0904 #OnyxPancakes #FergusPancakes #BobPancakes #ElizaPancakes #HarveyFoster #CarsonFoster

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Please do The gang+tim and culry with a s/o who likes to bake/cook!

YO my dad is actually a chef and I know how to cook and bake pretty well if I do say so myself so HELL YEAH i can do this pookie

GN!Baker/Cook s/o x The Gang + Tim n Curly Shepard

Ponyboy Curtis

-he loves it

-he’d never really had anyone besides the gang cook for him

-and tbh their skill is no where near yours

-when he hears you in the kitchen it’s like he’s a dog istg

-there in five seconds

-whenever he helps you cook he’s super precise over measuring

-“Y/n it says EXACTLY 6 cups of water”

-“Pony, it’s water for pasta. Eyeball it.”

Johnny Cade

-he’s not used to eating real good food

-or having people cook for him

-he’s so hungry all the time

-I fell like it suprises people, his appetite vs his size

-but he always says thank you when you cook for him

-sometimes helps you

-gets so flustered when you praise him

-getting a compliment from YOU on something he’s making is

-just honoring

Sodapop Curtis

-lol we already know this man in the kitchen

-you have to ban him because he makes such a mess

-he tried to sneak food coloring in the batter 💀💀

-and then runs away

-“SODAPOP CURTIS WHY IS MY BREAD BLUE?!”

-but you can’t stay mad at his behavior because he has the pretty privilege

-he’s lucky he’s cute tbh

Darry Curtis

-the best to cook/bake with

-forget grateful if you cook dinner so he don’t have to

-after working all day

-you two have a lot of fun in the kitchen

-and you swap turns cleaning vs cooking

Dallas Winston

-he would love eating your food

-but this mf is so impatient

-he sits at the freaking table whining like a kid

-I also think he’s mostly try to tease you

-like he’d come up behind you and wrap his hands around your waist and start kissing on your neck

-while you’re trying to cook something

-because he knows that it gives you butterflies and also distracts you from making something

-so you get annoyed and flustered

-which he loves 

Two Bit Mathews

-flour fights

-if you get him in the kitchen, you guys are not baking or cooking

-He’s goofing around with the ingredients

-Tries to stick his nasty hand in the batter

-“WASH YOUR HANDS TWO BIT!”

-he’s slightly worse than soda

-if you leave him alone with any finished food, especially cupcakes he’s eating it all

-and then tries to deny that he ate them all when it’s so blatantly obvious because he did not clean up 

Steve Randle

-micromanager 💀

-i’m sorry, but he’ll pretend like he doesn’t care

-and then as soon as you get something wrong he’s like

-“It said TWO tbsp Y/n not THREE!”

-You have to tell him to trust the process multiple times

-And he does not trust this “ process” nor you

-I feel like even if you’re the better baker or better cook he would still take over

-or try to take over 

Tim Shepard

-he definitely shows you off to his gang

-he loves the fact that you can cook

-he eats whatever you make in like three seconds

-Like it’s concerningly fast

-he doesn’t really help you out that much in the kitchen

- I don’t think this man can cook

Curly Shepard

-he pretends like he doesn’t care

-but he secretly loves it whenever you cook for him

-he’ll always utter a thank you

-I think that he secretly likes really girly dessert things

-Gotta keep it a secret or that fragile masculinity will shatter

-It’s like two bit whenever you make pink cupcakes

-he tries to eat them all

-You catch him red-handed with a smirk

-Tim Never lets him live it down

#urlocalnonbinarybastardwritesanswers #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #two bit mathews #johnny cade #the outsiders #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis #tim shepard #curly shepard

[zorosprincess]

Accismus

PRONUNCIATION - Acis•mus | \əkˈsɪzməs\ DEFINITION - a feigned refusal of something earnestly desired.

PAIRING - Oikawa Tooru x Reader WC - 4.5K GENRE - Light angst, fluff SYNOPSIS - If you were to let him know that it was working, then your life would be over instantaneously.

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

The first time that you met Oikawa Toru, you knew right then, in an instant, that you never wanted to see him again.

You'd been running late to watch Tadashi's first practice match on the college team. You'd made a promise to make it even despite the current tension between his best friend and yourself. Both you and the best friend had made a promise to him that your breakup wouldn't affect your friendship with Tadashi.

You had gotten stuck bringing extra water bottles since you were already running late. An unfortunate circumstance that had landed you where it had now, on your ass on the floor with bottles scattered around you.

"Woah there cutie," the smooth voice surrounded your ears and you saw him for the first time, the boy had just caused you to fall, "let me give you a hand?" His smile was too sweet in combination with how he bent towards you, one hand leaning on his knee and the other reaching out for you.

From the way his pretty brown eyes sparkled down at you to the way his silky curls bounced when he tilted his head, you knew immediately that you wanted no part of knowing him. But your hand was moving towards his on it's own.

Your fingers barely brushed against his own and you could immediately see him holding your hand a million different times. On cute dates, anniversaries, a whole lot of firsts, watching yourself fall in love with him easily, over and over again. His fingers were slowly wrapping around yours before you were abruptly interrupted.

"Senpai!" There was a shout from a couple different girls and your hand quickly snapped away from the boy in front of you to watch the commotion. Squealing girls that immediately begged for his attention, awestruck eyes staring up at him.

And, suddenly, all those moments that had flitted through your mind shattered right in front of you. You mentally watched it fall apart. The quick fallout, the tears that would stream down your face, the feeling of your chest tearing in two.

Your shook your head clear and used the girls as your distraction to gather your things again and quickly making your way inside. Praying to never see him again.

Of course, the world would never have been so kind to you. The second you watched him step into the gym you'd let out a soft groan of annoyance. You'd known instantly he'd be able to pick you out of the crowd if he'd try.

Unreasonably attractive boy who you had zero intention of ever speaking to. The one who tried to call out to you as you hurried out of the game when they were finished with their game. Calls of 'cutie' greeting my ears as his friends kept him with his team and you dutifully found your way to Tadashi outside.

The second time you saw Oikawa Toru, you were out with your best friend. Easily flitting about the shopping center with her, giggling over clothes and what would look good on each of you. Toshiko had just convinced you to buy a new dress and to swap the clothes you'd shown up in for the soft fabric that now brushed against the tops of your thighs as you walked.

"It looks so good!" Toshiko cried out as she pinched some of the fabric, smiling at you as she hauled her back higher up on her arm.

"Hey!" The shout from behind the two of you caused you both to turn your heads in curiosity. After seeing the culprit, however, you snapped your head back to look away. "I thought that was you, cutie."

You groaned lightly and tried to tug on Toshiko's arm to get her to walk faster. "Ignore him, please." You begged quietly as she only tilted her head in confusion, glancing between you and him.

"But he's cute!" She whispered back in exasperation, keeping us in place. You winced as you felt his presence stopping next to you.

"Amazing coincidence, us running into each other here right?" He smiled and you winced at how bright it was, rolling your eyes as he looked down at you both with a playful glint of his own. "Our conversation got cut short last time."

"Last time?" Toshiko questioned, looking back at you like you'd betrayed her. "You didn't tell me you ran into a cute boy, l/n."

You groaned almost immediately as the boy, now in front of you, started to speak. You cut him off. "It didn't get cut short. I left the conversation."

His smile only widened as he looked at me. "L/n's a cute name." You groaned as he ignored your comment, staying on his own track. "So, l/n-chan-"

You immediately stopped him. "Do not call me that."

"I just want to take you out, just once." You narrowed your eyes at him and turned around quickly, starting to walk away, whether or not Toshiko followed was her own business. "Awe c'mon cutie." You could hear his steps pick up to follow as he whined at you. "Just one date?" You ignored him and kept walking, rolling your eyes as he persisted. "Please, cutie?" You shot him the best annoyed look you could muster and smiled when you saw a few girls heading toward the three of you.

"Sorry," you muttered to him in fake sympathy before stepping back to watch immediately as the girls quickly surrounded him. He immediately couldn't help himself from being nice to them and you took it as your excuse to slip away.

As soon as he was out of ear-shot, Toshiko was all over the interaction. "You know that cute guy?" She asked, her voice squealing and you rolled your eyes quickly. "Oh my god, why didn't you accept his offer? He's so cute and charming. He thinks you're cute!"

"Toda, stop." You sighed and glanced over at her confused face. "That's just how those types of boys act. I'm not interested. Please drop it."

Toshiko sighed but relented in her teasing for the day. She quickly changed the topic and didn't even mention it when you knew that she caught you glancing over your shoulder at him, locking eyes easily through his crowd of girls.

You didn't have time to think much of him in the next few weeks, busying yourself with college courses and plots with Tadashi to hook up your two best friends. It wasn't until your plan had succeeded that you'd realized how much of your time had been taken up by trying to hook up Toshiko and Tsukishima.

The only time you'd even thought about the boy was when Toshiko threatened to 'give the cute boy from the other college' your number. But now, with your time suddenly incredibly freed up... you had nothing better to do.

You'd decided the easiest thing to do was to wander in and out of shops at the mall with different acquaintances from school. And every time, without fail, it seemed like you ran into him.

He, who insisted that you talk to him so you made a point to do anything but that. He, who insisted on adding 'chan' to the end of your last name. Calls of 'l/n-chan' always making you press your fingers into your temples and groan.

It seemed to you that he tried his hardest to annoy you every time he saw you. Trying his hardest to convince you to take him up on his offer for a date. Today was, surprisingly, no different. No different except for the fact that your 'friends' were watching from afar, taking up camp in the food court and making no attempt to help you.

"L/n-chan, come on." He whined, leaning casually on the railing next to him, smooth smirk gracing his lips as he tilted his head towards you. "Just one date please." You sighed and rolled your eyes again, wanting so desperately to leave. "L/n-chan wou-"

"Y/n." You cut him off, tired of the name he'd been calling you. His smirk fell and one nearly picked up on your face as he pulled a confused look across his features, head tilting to the side. "It's my name. You know, like how yours is Oikawa Tooru. Mine is l/n y/n. Not l/n-chan."

His mouth dropped open. All his smoothness seemed to have disappeared as he floundered to find something to say. You sighed and shook your head before turning to walk away.

You missed the whisper under his breath as you stepped away. "She knows my name." If you'd bothered to turn around, you would have seen him trying to fully process what had left your mouth. You would have seen the dopey grin on his face as he played with the sounds of your name on his tongue, as he swooned over how his name sounded on yours.

Maybe you would've even seen the gears turning in his head as he suddenly turned into a 12-year-old girl, imagining how Oikawa y/n might sound.

"You can't date him, you know." One of the girls said as you reapproached the group you'd been with for the day. You tried to open your mouth to reply, to assure them that it wasn't even remotely in your plan, but she continued on before you could. "You'd just break him, kinda like you did with Tsukishima."

You froze at the words.

Break him? Did you break him? No. He was fine, sure you didn't talk for a while but that was normal at the end of relationships. Right? Things just hadn't worked out, you'd grown out of each other, it was fine now.

"Isn't he dating Toshiko now? But he was always quiet, was he not before?"

You stopped listening to their conversation, letting them carry on at their own pace, your opinion not needed - or wanted - on the matter. Your fingers found their way to the necklace resting on your collarbones, dragging the charm back and forth across the chain easily as you thought.

You couldn't help the thoughts turning in your head.

Were you really scared Oikawa would break you? Or were you scared of what you would do to him? Either way, it was a good reason to stop going to places you would run into him.

It worked fine, your plan to stay away from Oikawa Tooru. Really, it did. Right up until you let Toshiko convince you to go support Kei and Tadashi during their official match against Seijoh.

You knew it was over the second that he locked eyes with you during warm-ups. Knew that you'd be hearing from him at some point during the course of the day.

You watched as the team you held dear to your heart slowly lost the game. The smug grin on Oikawa's face was enough to know he would be insufferable if you let him speak to you. And he was.

He was atrociously forward as he tried to catch you while you were grabbing Toshiko's things so she could go comfort Kei in his loss. It was easy to avoid him, really, his teammates trying to corral him as girls from all schools tried to fawn over him.

It was incredibly hard to want to hold your resolve to avoid him when he looked so incredibly attractive, high off of his win. He was so sure in himself and his team's abilities.

You knew that you couldn't ever admit it. Admit that he was wearing you down. That the constant attention and compliments he provided you with were getting to you. You knew that the second you admitted that you could fall for Oikawa Tooru, then your live would be over instantaneously.

As easy as it was to avoid him, you still found yourself in the stands after your team's loss. Watching from your hiding spot behind taller bystanders as Seijoh went against the infamous Shiritorizawa.

It was painful, to say the least, watching Oikawa's confidence falter as his team lost. Watching the irritation on his face as his team wore faces of defeat to mirror his.

You felt bad for him, you did, but you still couldn't let him talk to you. You'd already pressed your luck by sticking around, by removing the safety net that was your friends.

You blamed yourself, really, for the chain of events that happened next. Taking a back hallway with the hopes of avoiding any run-ins with Oikawa. How you'd run into a face you'd never seen before - an over-enthusiastic boy in a Shiritorizowa school uniform. A fan from the stands. A boy who couldn't take a hint, hovering over you, vulgar compliments leaving his mouth - anything but appealing as he cornered you against a wall.

You were quickly growing uncomfortable as his arm leaned on the wall near your head. "Come on, someone as pretty as you can't leave this place alone." He laughed loudly and you flinched from the sound. "Come home with a winner." You winced as you saw his hand moving closer to your arm.

You waited for the contact that never came. "You weren't even on the team. Honestly, taking credit for someone else's win? How pathetic." Oikawa's voice sent a wave of relief through your body. His hand was still mid-air in front of you from where he slapped the other boy's hand away. "Why don't you find someone from your own school to stroke your ego." Oikawa's harsh words were coated in sugar as he smiled at the offender. His arm slung around your shoulders casually, like it belonged there, and pulled you into him. "Now run along, she's spoken for."

The boy in front of you rolled his eyes violently. "Whatever," he scoffed, turning on his heel, "not worth the effort." You grimaced at the implication but trained your eyes on your own feet.

"Thanks, Oikawa." I whispered, not moving, still frozen in place, taking in the heat he was giving off.

"You can call me Tooru." You didn't have to look up to know he was smirking down at you.

You simply sighed and nodded. "Right, thank you." You sniffled lightly and stepped away. He, surprisingly, didn't protest as his arm fell from your shoulders. "See you around." You barely made it a step away.

"Why won't you give me a chance?" His voice was quieter. Not whiny like it usually was when he begged you for a chance. It was a genuine question. "Honestly, am I that bad? So bad that you want nothing to do with me?"

You didn't know what made you do it. What made you turn around and look up at him. But you knew what made you speak... the genuine search for an answer written on his face. You sighed and let your shoulders fall.

"Listen, Oikawa." You turned your head so you didn't have to see him, but you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. "I know what I'm like." It came out quiet, and it was a miracle that he'd even been able to hear you. But the hall was dead quiet, no one but the two of us.

"I know what you're like and that you have options. So," you took a large inhale and held your breath, "even if I was interested in you, even if you really are interested in me right now. One day you won't be anymore." You shook your head lightly, your fingers twisting the trinket around your neck again. "I don't wanna have to deal with that one day." It was like when you started talking that you couldn't stop.

You felt like your pauses were too long but for all you knew they could have only been a millisecond. You could have been speaking a mile a minute and you wouldn't have known. Wouldn't have heard over the sound of blood rushing into your ears to the beat of your heart.

"I know that the second I let you know that your stupid charm works on me, that you so effortlessly can wear me down, my life will be over." You sighed deeply, rubbing your hands over your cheeks. "Everything but you would cease to matter as much as it does. Please, I don't need that."

The silence in the hallway was deafening. You couldn't even know if he was still there, refusing to turn and look. Your nerves felt like they'd been set on fire, painfully burning away one by one.

"Give me a chance." Your head snapped up so that you could watch him with inquisitive eyes. There was no smile on his face, no teasing glint in his eye.

"Listen," it was his turn to sigh, "I know how I come off." He shifted awkwardly on his feet, a change from the graceful movements you were used to seeing from him, and his hand came up to scratch at the back of his neck. "But all I'm asking for is a chance. Just one." He gave you a hopeful half smile. It was awkward on his face, boyishly charming.

Fuck.

"I swear I'll try my hardest to never hurt you. That's not what I want. Not ever."

"Oikawa," you started but he cut you off, again.

"Please. I just," sigh, "I can't get you out of my head. So just, one chance." He was dangerously close to begging, genuine begging, and you winced at the implications of what that meant for your resolve. "Just one chance, please. One date. And if it's awful and you never want to speak to me again then I'll leave you alone."

He stared at you, hopefully, and you could feel your resolve crumbling, like an old wall that he'd just laid his hand on, pulling pieces down. Fuck.

"One date." You watched his smile widen immediately and your eyes widened a bit in fear. Oh god... What had you done? "Only one date Oikawa. And then you leave me alone."

"It'll be the best date you've ever had!" You glared at him as he perked up. "Cross my heart!" He snapped a dopey smile on his face and threw his hand on his chest dramatically.

You sighed and shook your head in defeat. "Friday." He nodded enthusiastically as you rattled off your address. "God don't let me regret this." You muttered to yourself.

"Could I walk you home?" He asked excitedly.

"No." You sighed as you started away from him finally. "I'll see you Friday."

The week that followed passed by excruciatingly slow. You didn't tell anyone about the date with Oikawa. Not even Toshiko. Especially not after Karasuno's loss to Seijoh. It felt wrong. Honestly, especially with how excited you actually were to see Oikawa.

When Friday finally came around, you couldn't help but feel happy all day. There was a giddiness consuming your demeanor through your classes as you got closer to being able to go home.

You couldn't stop fidgeting with your hair, your clothes, your jewelry. Nothing felt perfect. And you kept feeling like he was late, but every time you looked over at the clock to prove yourself right, you weren't and he still had plenty of time to appear.

And appear he did. Five minutes early. A quick knock on the door that you probably answered way too quickly.

God did he look good too. He was out of his school uniform, in nice jeans and a button up. There was a sly grin on his face as he pulled flowers out from behind his back.

"Wow." You laughed lightly, warmth flooding across your skin as you took the flowers. "Really pulling out all the stops?"

"Hey," he shrugged and mirrored your laugh with a soft one of his own, "I only have one chance to convince you to give me another date." You failed miserable at pushing down the smile that creeped across your lips at his effort. "If we could, m'lady."

He half-bowed and gestured his arm out for you to walk down the stairs first towards where his car waited at the curb. You rolled your eyes as he opened your door for you but couldn't help the happiness that clouded your head. Maybe he wasn't all bad.

Actually, he was nothing but sweet and genuine all night long. He excitedly talked about his interests, starting with volleyball (of course) and spouting off into other topics. You heard the pride in his voice when he spoke of his nephew and listened to how he loved his friends. And he always, always, made sure to ask about your interests - assuring you that he was listening with a genuine sparkle of interest in his eyes whenever you feared you might be talking too much.

You knew he'd done it before the night was even over. Knew that he'd slipped under your skin and made his home there. Knew that he'd ended your life that easily. Erased the importance of everything other than him.

You hated him for it. Except... you didn't. You couldn't hate him, not one bit. Not even when you were staring at him in disbelief as he walked you to your front door again, rambling about aliens. You were laughing along with him, genuinely laughing and he was beaming about it.

"How about," you started, pausing in front of your door to turn and face him fully, "the next time we do this, I get to choose where we eat?" You were smiling as you watched him freeze, his face contorting through a million emotions as he processed your words before settling on excited.

"I get another date!?" he exclaimed, wide-eyed and smiling.

"Hmm," you hummed in faux consideration, "why don't you ask me?"

You let a soft smile quirk at your lips as he cleared his throat and slapped on one of his charming smirks. "L/n y/n, would you do the honor of going on another date with me?"

"Yeah," you laughed softly at the formality of it, "yeah I'd like that, Tooru." You smiled as he beamed at you, in awe. "So," you drew out the vowel of your word, glancing at your feet as you spoke the next, "you gonna kiss me goodnight too?"

He laughed heartily and wrapped an arm around your waist, easily pulling you to collide with his chest. Your hands rested against it steadily, one of his arms holding you in place by your waist while the other hand tilted your jaw up softly.

His kiss was nothing but sweet. Lips soft and warm against your own. He was all-consuming.

You went inside on a high that day. The dizzy feeling only fizzing out when you hit your mattress for the night. The high that was the feeling of being absolutely wanted by someone who you wanted too. Of being absolutely wanted by one of the most wanted men.

Suddenly, as you hit your mattress, the feeling was calmed by the reminder of what the girl had said to you mere weeks before.

You're just going to break him.

The giddy feeling washed away by the reminder that you'd be disowned if your friends knew. If they knew you let him take you on a date once, let alone that you're doing it twice.

So the sneaking around began.

It was easier than you thought, really, to hide him and your relationship from your friends. Most of the places you two frequented together weren't any places that your friends would show up. His friends seemed to warm up to the idea of you being around quickly too. Once they realized that you could snap Tooru out of a funk faster than even Iwa could, they basically begged to have you around more.

It took Tooru a whole month to officially ask you to be his girlfriend, wanting to show that he was serious about you. But then only one week after that for you to wind up with a new piece of jewelry around your wrist, a small 'T' dangling from the chain. And only one more after that for him to start sporting your initial around his own neck.

It felt like it was a whirlwind. Like every day you fell in deeper. All-consuming.

You hid it well. You both hid it well. Right up until Karasuno's match against Seijoh for the spring tournament.

It had taken Iwa, Mattsun, and Makki to pull Tooru away from your giggling form in the back hallway. Him trying to convince you to give him his 'good luck kiss' before the match. Your playful refusal threw him into a whining fit that had Iwa threatening to punch him if he didn't get it together.

In the end, the whole fiasco had resulted in you giving him a kiss anyways. And in you being late to meet Toshiko in the stands on the Karasuno side. Something that Toshiko wasn't letting go.

"Where were you?" She stared at you warily as you shifted in your seat. "You're not usually late to things."

"Oh." Your eyes flicked over to where Tooru was standing on the court, a small smirk crossing his lips when he caught you looking. You brought your attention back to your friend as quickly as it had strayed but your fingers fidgeted with the charm on your bracelet.

"How long?" Her voice came out irritated and you nearly jumped in shock as you met her gaze. You tilted your head in confusion and she let out an irritated puff of air. "How long have you two been dating?" She nodded her head to where your eyes had just lingered, where Tooru was practicing sets, and you sighed in defeat.

"Almost four months."

She nearly shrieked but quickly regained her composure, not trying to draw attention to the two of you. "Are you fucking kidding me?" You winced as she seethed the words out. "I thought you hated him."

"I tried to." You sighed, upset with yourself as you finally confided in your best friend. "The first time I saw Tooru, I knew I never wanted to see him again. I knew what would happen if I did." You groaned and let your head fall in your hands.

"I signed my death warrant Toshiko, I know I did. I know boys like him. I know he'll leave me one day. They never stay." You tried not to look at her, knowing she was looking at you with pity.

"Even if he does leave one day though," you dragged your eyes up to watch him on the court, his eyes immediately finding yours with a proud smile after landing a particularly perfect practice serve. A smile carved its way onto your own lips, "I can't help it."

You looked at your friend and her features were softer now as she watched you. "I'm so goddamn head over heels in love with Oikawa Tooru."

a/n hiding things from my bestie? could never be me. i talk too much.

TAGLIST - OPEN @tsukiran @awkwardaardvarkforever

#oikawa fluff #oikawa toru fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fanfiction #oikawa toru fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #𓇻 Desiderium

[jeonginsleftcheek]

red dye, crushes and lollipops

genre: humor, fluff(?)

description: this is just a short drabble about jisung being your girlypop best friend, gn!reader

a/n: reader has a crush on Changbin, mentions of Minsung, sike I'm posting twice today, not proofread!

You wanted a change in your life and Friday after work you dexided to buy red hair color. You had never before dared for something like that but it was just one of those decisions that came to you on a whim. And who better to help you dye your hair than your best friend Jisung?

That's what you were doing now, you sat in front of the mirror in your bathroom as Jisung stood behind you and tried to dye your hair. Emphasis on tried.

"You're dying my neck."- you said, looking at him through the mirror.

"I'm here to help you and that's how you thank me, tsk. Let's see you do it better."- he smirked behind you.

"Alright, alright sorry, keep going."- you chuckled. Some random pop music played in the back, Jisung sang along and your hands and mouth got bored so you unwrapped one of the heart shaped lollipops he brought with him.

"Soooo, how's it going with Minho?"- you ask and his hands stop for a second. You can see a blush forming on his puffed up cheeks as he pouts at you.

"Don't start with that. You know I'm a pussy and I'd never confess to him."- Jisung shakes his head.

"He looks at you with literal heart eyes."- you say, swirling your tongue around the lollipop, the artificial strawberry taste takes over your senses.

"Then why doesn't he ask me out?"- Jisung asks, dipping into the hair dye.

"Maybe he's as scared as you are."

"Lee Minho scared? I don't think so."- Jisung shakes his head, his curls flying around.

Before you can answer, he smirks and retorts.

"How's it going with Changbin?"- he asks.

Your face matches the color of the dye at the mention of your crush's name.

"What does Changbin have to do with anything?"- you pretend to be dumb out of embarassment.

"Come on. I know you're down bad for him. You ogle at his muscles every time you see him."- Jisung cackles at your face and you swat behind yourself to hit him but he dodges, the little bastard.

"Shut the hell up, Ji. Changbin doesn't like me."- you say.

"How are you so sure?"- he asks, running his hands through your hair.

"He's like... so hot. And I'm not. Like I've never been to a gym in my life."- you reason but Jisung only laughs at you.

"What does that have to do with anything? Changbin definitely likes you and he likes you just the way you are. You don't have to like the same things he does for him to like you."

"But, what would I talk about with him?"- you sigh, your shoulders slumping.

"Anything? Like, have you ever really sat down and talked to him?"- Jisung asks and steps to the side, tilting his head to see if he's done a good job with your hair.

"Not really. My mind gets blank whenever I see him, I just get so nervous!"- you say.

Jisung chuckles. "You should ask him out. By the way, I'm done. Now we wait, yeah?"- he says, washing his hands in the sink and you lean in closer to the mirror.

"Oh my god, Jisung! You got it all over my face!"- you whine.

"Listen, you asked me for help. ME."- he emphasizes, pointing his finger at himself. "Now deal with the consequences."

"Why did I even ask?"- you roll your eyes playfully and he hits your arm lightly.

"Because you love me. Anyways. As I was saying, ask Changbin out. You got nothing to lose really."- he says as you stand up.

"I'll ask him out if you ask Minho out."- you smirk as Jisung grabs a lollipop for himself too.

"Okay."- he says, popping the lollipop in his mouth.

"What?! Just like that?"- your eyes widden.

"Yeah. This way we both stop being pussies and maybe we'll get laid."- he shrugs.

"Actually, it's been so long since I've even kissed anyone."- you say, tapping your chin and thinking.

"Me too. Let's kiss."- Jisung laughs and you shove him away.

"Don't be dumb."- you shake your head.

"Should we try it tho?"- Jisung asks, tapping the lollipop on his bottom lip.

You stare at him, and it's not like your friend isn't attractive, you just never thought of him that way.

"Oh what the heck."- you shrug and lean in.

His lips taste like sugar and strawberries, they're soft against yours, but there's nothing else really there. You lean away and both burst into laughter.

"Ew, let's never do that again. That was like kissing my sibling."- Jisung scrunches his nose up.

"Ew right back at you. I'm a great kisser so you should feel honored that you touched my lips."- you joke and he shakes his head at you.

"Yeah right, I'm so honored. Couldn't be more honored. The honor is-"

"Shut up or I'll kiss you again!"- you threaten and he shoves the lollipop in his mouth and shuts up.

"The bathroom looks like a literal murder scene."- you look around chuckling and Jisung just shrugs.

"Looks fine to me. Normal Friday night."

"You got something to confess?"- you narrow your eyes at him and he laughs.

"Not really, no."- Jisung wiggles his eyebrows.

"So, we got a deal? You confess to Minho and I confess to Changbin?"- you say, your heart skipping a beat at the thought.

"Yep."

"Don't back out of it!"- you threaten, pointing your finger at him.

"I won't, I won't! I promise."- Jisung says, even though in his mind he'd rather disappear than confess to Minho.

Thirty minutes later, you wash your hair and Jisung helps you dry it and style it (after he also helped scrub your face where he messed up with the dye).

"Oh, man."- you say, shocked as you stare at your reflection.

"Wow. You're actually not ugly for a change."- Jisung comments.

"Asshole!"- you say smacking him and he laughs.

"I'm just joking. You look amazing, bestie. Changbin will definitely be swiped off his feet."- Jisung smirks poking at your shoulders and doing a silly dance.

"I wish."

"Look at the bright side. We can have a double date if everything goes well."- Jisung beams at you.

'If I don't completely embarass myself in front of Changbin', you think, your stomach twisted up in knots.

Three weeks later...

"So, did you kiss?"- Jisung asks and you adjust your phone, as you lay down on your sofa.

"We did!"- you say giggling, you really feel like kicking your feet in the air.

"Oh my god! I told you bestie! I told you Changbin likes you!"- Jisung cheers for you.

"What about you and Minho?"

"We did more than kissing."- you can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Oh you nasty."- you laugh at your best friend.

"He put his-"

"Jisung, I don't need the details."- you laugh.

"As I was saying his co-"

"Jisung!"

#skz x reader #skz fluff #han jisung #skz jisung #changbin x reader #changbin #skz changbin #minsung #minsung fluff

[nouies]

#24doL 2022 ⤷ day 2: Louis + sweater paws

#24dol22 #louis tomlinson #tomlinsonedits #hlcreators #userjackie #definitely not my best work but i was running out of time #* #*g #*lt

[thompsborn]

i know i’ve said that being able to do the stereotypical insane ao3 authors notes is fun and amusing to me but can the universe NOT take that as a challenge to add more shit to my list of things to add next time i post ???? like. fucking. Calm Down Please.

#situations keep happening and i am TIRED #had to restrain a kid at work today which was AWFUL but he was trying to run into the road so i literally had to #almost cried bc of it but got the situation under control #but then when on my way to meet w coworkers to carpool to a meeting #my tire popped #super fun times super awesome super great #i mean my mom helped and we got it all fixed and handled #but basically from noon to like 6pm my mom and i were dealing w it bc everything had to be COMPLICATED #so i only just got home like 45 mins ago ish and i am SO tired holy fuck #but im eating left over orange chicken and then gonna shower and then just gonna be lazy and read and maybe write #if i have the brain power i will work on hb chp17 #but i also have a 4 hour training for work tomorrow so yeehaw #its 12:30-4:30 which isnt that bad but still #im also going to my dads afterwards to stay the night and visit him and my siblings #which is a good thing dont get me wrong i love visiting them #it just means i wont have a lot of freetime this weekend to work on writing and cleaning and stuff #not the end of the world and definitely worth it to see my dad and my baby siblings #but i wish it was a 3 day weekend so i could also have a day to just stay home and do things that i havent had the time to do yk #oh well. tis life. adulthood. having to handle situations and finding the best out of shitty circumstances. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[sluttyten]

crying laughing about the drama in my life right now😂😂

#so my work friend got fired yesterday because of bullshit reasoning rught #and so tonight I’m out in public telling my best friend about it #but like there’s no one around at the moment when we’re talking about this because it’s right after a movie we went to see #and she pushes the door of the theater open and we are the last ones leaving this showing ok #and she opens the door and she’s shit talking my boss because she once worked with me a long time ago so she knows him #plus I’ve given her all the details I know about this dumb situation #and who should walk by right as we fucking open that door?? #my boss’s boss…. the one who fired my work friend yesterday and who we were also lowkey shut talking #so I immediately shut the fuck up because he knows me well enough he could recognize my voice and/or my face even if I’m out of work and out #of uniform luckily he keeps walking straight and we walk in a different direction but I’m like ‘that was *insert boss’s boss’s name*’ so we #are both laughing like oh shit 😂😂 and she’s like damn hope you’re not the next one to get fired now which like cmon I don’t think they can #fire me for that even if I was saying this stuff at work #but we walk outside towards her car and we get close and realize that his truck is like 3 away from her car and I’m like hiding at this #point so he won’t see me bc he definitely went out a different exit door than us and pulled out of the parking spot right as we reached her #car but I’m like…. what are the odds of running into him here? he doesn’t even live here so I wouldn’t have thought he’d be hanging around a #and going to see a movie on a Thursday night by himself instead of driving home since he lives like 3 hours from here

[fizzlehead]

do you guys think i should steal the outdoor cat that’s been roaming around my apartment complex and just keep her in my apartment. know that if even one person says yes i will probably do it

#she very clearly belongs to someone like she has a flea collar on (with no information on it mind you). but she’s just been like #running around the parking lot and hiding under cars and we’re right next to a really busy road!! and she keeps coming up to my #screen door and meowing and if i go out on the patio she’ll sit with me for like an hour at a time and if i walk outside sometimes she #comes running to me :-((( she’s like the sweetest cat I’ve ever met and she should not be roaming the parking lot!!! yesterday she was #fully asleep in the MIDDLE of the parking lot I had to pick her up and move her into the grass #i’ve already named her. and we’re bonded at this point i don’t know that i can live without her (it’s been 3 days). she’s my best friend #one of my neighbors has already told me i should keep her. if it weren’t for my sister’s cat she would be in my apartment already. #but im considering it anyways. i could make it work #also like i don’t necessarily WANT to steal someone’s cat but as far as im concerned if you choose to have an outdoor cat yoh surrender all #ownership of thag animal. if someone decides they want to take your outdoor cat and keep her inside and give her a safe life that’s their #cat now. you don’t have a cat anymkre. maybe try again when you learn how to take care of animals #anyways uhmmmm. this is my situation. i have not been able to think about anything else for 3 days because I’m so worried about her getting #hit by a car or something. so at this point stealing her would be for my own mental well-being. but also i definitely should not do this. so #OH ALSO. there’s a second cat that also definitely belongs to the same person that i discovered last night when I was looking for the first #cat. and I definitely cannot steal both of them. so keep that information in mind when you are giving me your final decisions. #maybe I could steal both of them. this is ruining my #life #taylor xoxo