ROLE MODEL
pairing: rockstar!hobie brown x drummer!reader
summary: i just like the song lol
word count: 1k (drabble)
author's note: the rockstar!hobie brown idea was inspired by @murdrdocs drabbles. go check them out!
It’s crazy cuz’ he noticed you before you ever set your eyes on him.
The first time was the night before his gig. Hobie just happened to be pub hopping when he saw you smashing it on the drums. You were just so into it, so entranced by the music—him so entranced by you. Hobie just knew by then he had to find some way to talk to you. You were just something he could not see only just once and leave it at that.
No. Once wasn’t enough.
You saw him during one of his gigs. The way the purple and pink lights flashed upon his umber skin, his hair—god you loved the dreads—the piercings, the devilish smirk that just made your heart jump, and the way his hands expertly moved on the strings of his guitar, creating such an amazing sound that you loved so much. The guitar was your favorite instrument, unfortunately you found yourself best at the drums but someday you’d love to give the guitar a try. And look just as cool as this guy.
Oh yeah, you were totally crushing on him the moment you first saw him. You wanted to talk to him—really you did—even your friend was trying to push you toward him after the show. You were confident on the drums, not asking dudes out.
All you knew was that you wouldn’t forget him or that night. You just weren’t sure if you would ever see him again.
Fuck, you blew your chance…
After that night, you found yourself now obsessed with his band’s music, sometimes catching hints of his singing voice here and there. God you were such a dork about it. Your friends liked to laugh about your little crush, but you were feeling absolutely stupid about it. Knowing that it probably wouldn’t ever happen.
Turns out the two of you lived in the same city. Hobie found you during one of his quick runs to the coffee shop. There he spotted you hunched over a table with a book of music notes and headphones on your ears. He thought about approaching you, introducing himself and all that, but unfortunately he was in a rush and could do nothing but briskly walk past you. Only to stop short when he heard a familiar song coming from your headphones. Just when Hobie was about to leave, you looked up at him.
Smooth as all can be, Hobie pointed to his ears, causing you to move part of your headphones so you could hear him say, “I like that song. You’ve got taste, yeah?”
Your smile made him smile just a bit, “I wouldn’t say all that. If you see my playlist you might change your mind.”
“Naah, I’ll show you mine and you show me yours.”
A chuckle left your lips, “Sure, sounds great.”
Hobie smirked, “I’m—”
“Hobie Brown. Yea, I saw you at one of your shows.”
Huh, you knew who he was. Hobie shouldn’t have been so giddy about this the way he was at that moment.
“You gonna tell me your name then?”
“Y/N.”
God your name was even prettier than he imagined.
You saw him again during a show near your old neighborhood. He even spotted you out in the crowd this time. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you had ran into him that day in the coffee shop, much less that he now knew your name. You pinched yourself multiple times just to make sure you hadn’t been dreaming about that interaction. And when the bruises appeared on your skin, your heart fluttered for hours. A giggly mess as embarrassing as it sounded.
When the show was over, you managed to leave out the side door of the venue only to find Hobie leaning against a wall with a cigarette in his mouth and black headphones around his neck. He looked up, a grin stretching his lips when he saw you.
“Thought I saw you in ‘ere.”
He stepped toward you as you grinned, “You were killer on that guitar you know, I’m almost envious.”
“Naah, I know you ain’t shit talkin’ when I saw you slammin’ it on em’ drums.” Hobie smirked when you grew visibly flustered. You didn’t know he had seen you play before. “Best drummer I’ve seen, I’ll tell ya.”
“Shut up, there’s way better.” You playfully rolled your eyes as you leaned on the brick wall next to him. You gestured to the headphones, “Got that playlist for me?”
Hobie smirked and placed them on your head, “This first song is why I picked up the strings in the first place.”
When the song played, when you heard the guitar, you immediately was engrossed into the song. Closing your eyes, listening closely to every instrument and every voice. For a second you had almost forgotten that Hobie was there watching you, his hand on the wall next to you and leaning on it.
You pointed to the headphones, “You’ve gotta show me how to play like this. Like you one day.”
“Yeah?” Hobie glanced from your lips and then back to your eyes, “What, d’you want private lessons? Cuz’ I think there’s room in me schedule. If ya ready for it.”
Instead of replying, you took your own headphones out and placed them on his head. “Here, you're gonna like this one.” When you played the song from your phone, Hobie didn’t close his eyes and get into the music like you had done. Instead he never broke eye contact with you and his head began bopping slightly.
You stepped forward and Hobie leaned closer. It was perfect how your lips easily fitted each other. How the smell of both cigarettes and cologne filled your nose, leaving you wanting more of it. How the softness of your lips only confirmed that he wouldn’t let you go so easily.
Both hands were on the wall and on either side of your head as he leaned further into the kiss. The music pounded in both of your ears, the night was loud and yet quiet at the same time.
There was a certain high that came from his touch. And there was a certain drug that he craved when it came to kissing you.
When the two of you broke apart to catch your breaths, he grinned down at you.
“It’s a date then.”
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jet
🎉 thank u guys so much for 1k followers 🎉 i don’t know how we got here but i love you all endlessly and can’t thank you enough for all the love n support. here’s some smutty joel to celebrate 🤩 this might become something, it might not. i dunno. wanted to try it out tho. lmk your thoughts ✨
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
summary: you and joel have an agreement: follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. what happens when, one night, he asks you to break the deal?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) post-outbreak!joel, pining i guess?? when don't i pine for this man, praise kink, light bondage, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (don't u dare), creampie, dom!joel, soft!joel, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), cursing, cute horsies
word count: 6.9k
main masterlist
Somewhere between Missouri and Illinois, last time you checked. Joel has the map, and you don’t bother asking him to see it much. You’ve been following the Mississippi north, on his orders, looking to hit St. Louis sometime tomorrow. Provided you don’t run into any trouble, that is.
It’s been three days with no safe refuge. Camping out in deserted houses with wood for windowpanes, stores infested with rats, office buildings with infected roaming. Joel figures the outskirts of the city are a good spot to stop for a couple nights, regain your strength, find supplies.
You’re a few paces ahead of him, only turning your head slightly when you notice an offramp, and looking back ahead when he doesn’t give any direction. You weave in and out of abandoned cars, hips swaying with the clipping of your horse’s hooves on broken asphalt, Joel’s horse in time at your heels.
You’d untethered the pair of them on a farm back in Nebraska. Joel had told you to stay put while he cleared the house, but you’d wandered over to the field when you spotted them. Timid, skittish, starving.
Five minutes hooked over the fence and they were both eating grass you’d pulled from the earth, right out of your hand. Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching had spooked them back a few steps, but you’d petted their muzzles and when he did the same, they soon warmed to him, too.
He’d jerked his head in a nod and muttered, “Good job,” before finding two saddles, strapping them on, and helping you onto the chestnut brown one – who you’d named Jet.
Joel had found tins of food in the farmhouse, and a switchblade for you to carry. He had a new stain on his shirt.
“Infected?” you asked.
He grunted in reply. Then rolled the tins into his backpack and hoisted himself onto his own horse, giving her reins a tug.
You knew that meant that yeah, there’d been infected inside. And recent, too, going by how well-kept the horses looked. It can’t have been longer than a week.
Joel’s silence as you both wandered down the farm track probably meant that there weren’t just adults in the house, either.
You’d glanced over to him, giving him a small smile. Bent over and reached for his horse’s ears, scratching where her soft black coat met her mane. The reins lay loose around Joel’s knuckles.
Protecting and providing for you was more important than some infected kids in a farmhouse. Joel had made that more than clear over the time you’d been with him. But somewhere, buried deep underneath years of fighting and killing, tucked away under a dusty flannel shirt, you knew his heart was hurting.
That was two weeks ago. Joel hasn’t talked about it, and you’re not interested in bringing it back up. Y’all got to the farm, took everything it had to offer, and you left.
Jet clicks her way along the highway somewhere south of the city. It’s still bright out; Joel reckons probably a few more hours of sunlight, so you know he’ll be scouting for places to camp out soon.
You lean back to stretch your spine, hand steadying yourself on Jet’s rump, her tail swishing as she walks. Her head bobs, looking from left to right, from the trucks with smashed windows sprouting moss, over to the trees losing leaves in the fall breeze.
It’s peaceful. Not much is, these days.
It’s quiet enough that Joel can listen for any sound of oncoming threat, and quiet enough that you can shut your eyes and pretend like you’re on some trail in the Texas country, on a warm summer evening; not exhausted, covered in dirt, weeks since you washed, days since you slept.
You’re humming gently to yourself, imagination taking you down by a creek where Joel pulls you by hand off the horse and you sit down to a picnic or something. He’d bring a basket. Maybe a bottle of wine, or a cheese board. Maybe he lays you back and kisses you on the blanket. Maybe his hand starts to wander up your thigh, skirt ruffling as he goes…
“Not much out here, is there?”
His voice startles you, bursting the seams of your daydream. He isn’t much of a talker, not unless you start it. You sit up straight and give your head a shake, as if dislodging the fantasy from your mind.
You twist around to look at his face; squinting under the bright white sky. Tired, same as you, lined, flecked with years and sun and survival.
“Hm?” he asks when you still don’t reply.
“Not a lot,” you finally say, clearing your throat and turning back to the road.
Finding the horses isn’t the only thing that’d happened two weeks ago.
Joel hadn’t wanted to camp in the farmhouse, hadn’t wanted to have to shift the bodies. Too much effort, or too much for you to see, maybe. You’d protested, heart set on a night’s sleep in an actual bed, but he hadn’t budged.
And you knew not to push him.
The sun was setting, though, so Joel led you down a dirt track toward a barn and burst the padlock. He tied the horses up just inside the door, used bundled up hay as a makeshift mattress upon which he laid out a blanket for you.
He barricaded the door as you lay back, did a walkaround of the place just in case any infected – or worse – were waiting to surprise y’all, and then sat down next to you.
Your head by his thigh, you put a hand on his knee.
“You can lie down, too, y’know.”
He grunted in response, breathing deep and steady.
“Joel.”
You took his shoulder and tried to pull him down to you, but the man is stronger than anyone you’ve ever met, even in his late forties, and you were convinced he’d only pretended to be yanked toward you so as not to hurt your feelings too much.
He remained upright. “Just want to keep watch for a while.”
Joel’s like this when you’re on the road. He’s cautious. On high alert. Always watching ahead, always listening out for whatever he thinks he might hear in the distance. Sometimes you can say something to him and have to give his leg a kick for him to answer you.
You’d sighed and pushed yourself up to lean your bicep against his. He furrowed his brows and scanned you from your jeans to your jaw.
“If you’re up, I’m up,” you told him.
“You need sleep,” he replied flatly.
You shrugged. “So do you.”
“What good is both of us tired?”
You sighed again and shook your head. You weren’t gonna argue with him.
Good thing he didn’t feel much like arguing, either. Ten minutes later he was on top of you, jeans loose on his thighs, head buried in your shoulder, fucking you senseless. Grunting and groaning into your skin.
You’d scored marks into his shoulder blades with your nails that you’re sure, if you peeled back his shirt right now, would still be there.
It’d tired you both out enough that Joel settled with your head on his chest, his hand in your hair, eyes trained on the barn doors. You don’t know if he slept a wink. You never know if he sleeps these days.
Joel hears the hoarseness of your voice and knows that you’re tired, ‘cause he clicks to his horse and she trots up alongside you and Jet. He pulls the map from his backpack. You tilt your head to take a look.
“Keep ridin’ for another hour,” he mumbles. “’m sure we’ll find somewhere soon. Looks like we’re still a little way out of St. Louis.”
You nod, rolling your head back. The cloudy sky burns your corneas as you watch a bird fly overhead. Joel slips the map back into his bag and you feel his hand on your thigh.
“You okay?”
“Mhm. Tired,” you whisper.
“Only a little while longer.” He gives your leg a small squeeze and his hand returns to the reins. He doesn’t fall back, instead, stays ambling along by your side. It feels like company. Feels nice. Feels…normal.
Two weeks is a long fucking time. Especially when your adrenaline peaks on the regular, sometimes multiple times in one day, and you’re alone with Joel all day and all night. Trusting each other, relying on each other. Saving each other time and time again. It was only natural that you began to rely on each other for…more than just survival.
You can’t remember when you found him. It was in the QZ, back when you believed in stability and structure. When you believed in people. Now, the only thing you believed in was Joel. Broken, hurt, shut-off Joel, who’d grumbled an apology when his shoulder brushed yours in the hallway and changed everything.
You like to think you were something new to him, something different. A challenge, maybe. Something worth holding onto, anyway, for reasons he was yet to let you in on.
He had an apartment of his own, with a bed of his own, which was something you weren’t used to. You shared a cramped apartment with Luce, a single mom with a two-year-old. Joel’s was where you went when the tantrums, the screaming in the middle of the night, the ration cards being destroyed either by ripping, by eating, or else by other means, became too suffocating.
Joel didn’t believe in anything or anyone, either. That’s what kept you coming back.
He’d just open his door and step aside to let you in. Barely a word. He’d ask if you’d eaten, and share his plate with you either way. Wordlessly picking away at the same food, making sure you got the last spoonful of soup, the last strip of jerky.
Most nights he’d fuck you until your mind went blank, nothing but the smell of him, feel of him, sound of him. No talking, no kissing, no touching. Just the sound of the bed springs, Joel’s soft groans as he bottomed out inside you. The feel of his hot skin, hips rubbing against the inside of your thighs. The bare, cracked brick walls of his apartment would fade away with each thrust, and then slowly seep back in when your orgasm began to wash away.
You knew it was time-wasting, for both of you. Scratching an itch. But some nights, it felt like more. The nights when he’d be so caught up in what he was doing, so caught up in you, that he’d forget to pull out. The nights his hips would snap messily and suddenly he was spilling inside of you, a deep groan humming against your skin between his teeth.
He wouldn’t care to ask, and you wouldn’t offer the information for free, but you remember every fucking time he did it. Where it’d happened, the position he had you in, how long it took for him to finally peel his body off of yours.
And afterwards, he’d let you sleep with your head on his chest. Let you play with his fingers. Let you talk to him; let you ask questions.
Didn’t mean he answered all of them. Didn’t even mean he answered much. Some, he’d give away more openly than others, but you soon got used to clocking when he was keeping a secret. Make a mental note of it, remember to chip away at it.
He trusted you, though; you knew that. Knew it by the way his fingers knotted safely in your hair, the way he’d lie naked with you until the sun came up. The way his breathing would slow, the way he’d mumble in his sleep.
You never talked to him about the incoherent words he’d breathe – but you could piece them together well enough to understand him better than his waken self would ever reveal.
When you brought up leaving, one rainy night weeks ago, he thought about it maybe twice over. Asked how he was supposed to keep you safe.
You do that already, you told him.
‘s different outside. You don’t understand.
It can’t be any worse than in here.
You’d taken a step forward, and he’d flinched, but allowed you to take his strong jaw in your hands. You tried to form a sentence, and when your throat closed up, eyes flitting between his, he took your wrists and lowered them. The shadow of a rain-spattered window doused in a sickly amber glow across his face.
You’d wanted to kiss him. And had he left your hands where they were just a few seconds longer, you think you might’ve. Joel saw it in your eyes, and stopped it.
Whatever. It had still convinced him. He packed his bag and you snuck down the fire escape the following night. Joel’s fingers were hooked around your belt loop the entire time, keeping your hip in stride with his all the way until you were at least a hundred feet away from the QZ wall.
His other concern was his age. Why someone like you would want to run away with someone like him. Forty-something, graying, past his peak. He has, like, twenty years on you. Once he made some reference about Bruce Springsteen and, when your face blanked, he sighed and took the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
I know who Bruce Springsteen is, asshole, you’d said, just didn’t get that reference.
He’d shaken his head and given you a sly, twisted smirk, then pushed you out the door of the apartment block you guys were searching.
Still, despite the years between you, you have one major thing in common.
You’re both good at getting each other…there.
Joel knows exactly what to do to make you tick. You know exactly how to push him until he does it. It’s in the way you look at him, the way you touch him. Things you say that make his stony eyes flit once down your body, and then you know you’re in.
It’s a little harder to do while on horseback, you gotta admit. The best you can do is look at him, say a sentence or two laced with want and need. Hope that he reads through the lines.
It’s worked a few times, when Joel’s suddenly found a shed or basement you can camp out in and then made it difficult for you to walk for the next couple days.
Right now, you feel too tired to even bat your eyelashes at him, never mind coming up with lines to turn him on. You’ve been on the highway for a few hours by this point, little sign of shelter anywhere nearby. Joel holds his hand out and you bring your horses to a stop in view of a hospital a couple miles ahead.
“That’s gotta be teemin’ with them,” you say, looking over to study his expression.
“Hm,” Joel agrees, and glances to the right.
“What you thinkin’? Sun’s getting lower.”
He takes a deep breath, pulls on the reins. “Know somewhere nearby.”
He heads off the highway with a click of his teeth, and you follow. You shut your eyes, chin burying beneath the collar of your shirt. You’d kinda hoped that he’d offer to clear even a small part of the hospital for you to rest up, maybe more, but you trust him enough to lead you somewhere safer, somewhere quieter.
That trust begins to wear thin, though, when the sun disappears behind the trees, drowning you guys in a low dusk, and the temperature begins to fall. Joel’s using what’s left of the gray light to guide him, slowing down to take a hold of Jet’s reins and line her up with his own horse.
“I thought you said an hour,” you mumble, grip becoming slack on the leather.
“Changed my mind,” he replies. “Almost there.”
Your eyes start to roll with exhaustion, hips aching from the position you’ve been sat in for hours now. It’s not until you notice the silhouette of a tall sign in the clearing, black against the fading purple sky, that you blink yourself awake.
Joel pulls you and Jet off the road to a deserted parking lot, shadowed by a motel. He slows the horses down, listening for any signs of life, leading them to the side of the building.
“Easy,” he whispers, pulling on the reins. Both animals come to a halt.
He slides off the saddle, hitting the ground with a thud. He takes your hands, pulling you down to him, and you glance around.
“Stay here,” he tells you, and you don’t have the energy to argue back.
He makes off, pulling his gun from his holster. You stand with a hand on each horse’s muzzle, gently petting. Joel’s gone for a decent amount of time, his silhouette slowly sneaking in and out of every room, spending a couple minutes in each before he clears it.
He returns with a box of pills, some gauze, and a bottle of water, which he hands to you. You take a long swig and pass it back, and he does the same.
“What will we do with Jet ‘n…?”
“Huh?” he asks, replacing the cap on the half-empty bottle.
“What’s your horse called?”
“She ain’t got a name.”
You tsk. “Bad owner.”
“We ain’t their owners.”
“Mine’s is Jet. Pick a name.”
Joel sighs and shakes his head, but you know he’s gonna spend all night thinking up some name to go with yours. “We’ll tie ‘em up out here.”
“What if something happens to them?”
“Well,” he says, leading them toward the shelter, “if somethin’ happens to them, it only means it’s about thirty seconds away from happenin’ to us.”
He jerks his head toward the first room as he ties them up, and you know the conversation is over.
You wander into the small, dingy room, pulling your jacket from your shoulders. It smells of damp, the wallpaper’s peeling off the wall above the bed. The sheets are in disarray, a little dusty, but they look clean enough. The bathroom walls are covered in grime. Drawers empty, closet doors missing, entire place ransacked.
It’s as good as you get, these days. At least it has a solid roof.
Joel settles the horses and closes the door gently behind himself. You’re already tugging your boots off, sat at the foot of the bed.
He rests his gun on the nightstand and straightens up, stretching his back with a quiet groan.
“’s cozy,” you offer, and he nods.
“Better ‘n risking that hospital.”
The bedsprings creak when you shimmy up the mattress, resting your back against the hardwood headboard. It ain’t the most comfortable, but then it’s not meant to be, is it? It’s only meant to be safe, which Joel’s made sure of.
He stands at the bottom of the bed, watching you as you bounce up and down a couple times, laughing quietly at the sound of the springs beneath you. His expression clouds over under low brows.
“Y’okay?” you ask, tilting your head.
He nods again. Eyes flitting up and down, from your face to your neck, back up, and then lower still. Your chest. Your stomach. Your legs. You feel your heartbeat quicken when he takes a step forward.
“Just had to find somewhere better.”
“Better?” You smile. “Have you seen the world, Miller?”
He leans his knee against the foot of the bed. His brown eyes darken even more, and his jaw tenses.
“Had to find somewhere better,” he mutters, “so I could fuck you in peace.”
Your breath catches. You stare from his lips back up to his eyes. His fists are balled tight. His chest heaves with steady panting. There’s something flickering in the depths of those warm eyes; an ember, drawing you in. Tantalizing you.
You sit forward, pushing onto all fours, and crawl down the groaning bed to him, rising onto your knees when your hands meet his shirt. Your chest against his stomach, you look up into his eyes.
His rough hands knot in your hair and he pulls down, yanking your head back and your chin up to him. He studies your face, outlined in the moonlight seeping through the window. Then he lowers his jaw and lines his lips against yours.
“That what you want?” he hums against your mouth. You swallow his words – they claw at your throat as they go.
“Uhuh,” you breathe back, trying to connect your lips. He doesn’t allow you; steadily dodges your jaw like you’re a pair of negative magnets, repelling off one another. You moan.
“Needy girl,” Joel whispers. “Two weeks too long for you?”
“Mhm.”
You’re not tired anymore. You’re fucking desperate. You feel your cunt dripping, seeping through your underwear, worsened when Joel’s hand reaches down between your legs and cups you through your jeans.
You gasp and grab his arms to steady yourself.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, hand tensing around your core.
Your lip trembles as you watch the way his mouth moves, how he shapes the words. His teeth locked between soft lips, dappled with brown hair, ends singed gray. The way he almost spits the words.
Your chest meets his torso when you breathe in, a deep, shaky breath. Joel notices; the corners of his mouth twitch, holding back a smile.
“Want you to…want you…”
He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. He pushes you back and falls on top of you, strong body pinning you against the mattress, hand still clamped to your crotch.
His head dips to your neck where he bites, scratches and sucks, mumbling against your hot skin, “Tell me, baby. Use your words.”
Your head begins to swim, body starts pulsing with electricity. Baby. Joel’s pet names are limited to one thing. One activity.
“Want you to f– fuck, Joel – fuck me.” Fuck me fuck me fuck me.
His hand begins wrestling with the button of your jeans. Thick fingers fumbling with your zipper, taking your waistband with both hands and hauling it down. The force of it pulls you down the mattress too, squealing as Joel rips the denim from your legs. You lower your hands to help him, but once they’re tossed to the floor, he bats you away.
He’s shaking his head, tsking, then takes both your wrists in one of his huge hands. Fingers twisted around your delicate skin, pinning them above your head. The bed sighs around you when he pushes your hands into the mattress. Your back arches, your chest rising to meet his.
Your legs part, knees settling either side of his waist. Of course they do. It’s what you know now. It’s basic fucking instinct at this point.
His free hand returns to cup your sex, feeling how wet you are through your now soaked underwear.
“Baby,” he coos, “this all for me?”
You nod a little too eagerly, not that you’re present enough to care. But it beckons a smug smile from Joel, who begins sliding your panties down your thighs.
Your hips lift to let him drag the fabric down, biting your lip, not willing to wait another fucking second for him. Lace meets denim on the torn-up floor, and you sigh, settling back against the rusty bedsprings and mottled sheets.
Joel’s free hand ghosts from your wrist down to your elbow, teetering along the sleeve of your t-shirt over to the collar, where he pulls it so far down into the valley between your breasts that a small noise passes your lips.
“Hm?” he asks, fingers pausing against your breastbone.
“’s my only shirt. Don’t…”
He kisses his teeth. His gaze never lifts from your heaving chest, skin damp with sweat right underneath his fingers. You can see him tossing it over in his head. What he wants to do, versus what he probably shouldn’t.
He blinks. Decision made.
“Give you one of mine,” he growls, and hooks his fingers, dragging the fabric of your shirt lower and lower until the collar tears open and it’s another scrap lost to the motel room floor.
And then there you are, naked and writhing underneath him. He’s still in his dusty flannel. There’s sweat lining his forehead. He holds himself over you, hovering, taking every inch of you in and storing it behind his eyes.
You jerk your hands, trying to break free just to touch him, feel him, but he pulls away again, tutting.
“No, pretty girl,” Joel coos, “gonna take my time with ya.”
You moan in protest, still wriggling under his body. His grip on your wrists doesn’t loosen, not even when his free hand dips to undo his belt. The cold metal kisses your naked thighs when he pulls it through his jeans; the leather drags up your torso and across your face as he lifts it.
He takes your hands individually, careful and yet rough, urgent, and slots them between the slats of the headboard. Your head turns up to watch what he’s doing. The silver of his belt buckle knocks against the wood as he slips it under your wrists, feeding it between your skin and the mattress, wrapping it around the slat between your hands.
Then he slips the belt through the buckle, and pulls. Tight. Your hands come together, wrists kissing, the leather burning your skin the tighter he pulls. You whine, head rolling back to meet his gaze, fixed on yours.
“Since you don’t wanna listen.”
The drip in his voice, sweet like honey, smooth as whiskey, forces your legs open wider. Joel smirks, pushing himself down the mattress and out of your view.
Staring up at the gray ceiling, you’re left just to feel him. Feel him as his palms splay out on your knees, pushing them into the bed. Feel his stubble graze the inside of your thigh as he drags his tongue up, leaving a trail of wet behind.
Feel when he breathes a whisper across your aching cunt, something you can’t hear over the ruffling of sheets around your head as you toss around. And feel when his fingers part your lips, opening you up wide for him to really fucking see.
“Fuck, baby,” he says, and you find the strength to lift your head to watch. He’s leant over you, one arm hooked around your left thigh, holding it open, the other fucking…playing with you. Like you’re some fancy gadget. Like you’re brand new to him.
“So,” he runs two fingers from your clit through your folds, “fuckin’,” lines them up at your entrance, “pretty – for me.”
He pushes up into you, and your head hits the pillow with a stifled groan. You’re panting through your teeth, back arching the deeper he goes, stretching you out and rocking waves of sparkling heat through you. Waves that hit the other end of your stomach and come rippling back, throbbing around his thick fingers.
His arm bears down on your thigh, forcing your legs wide open for him. His hand cups your clit and you buck your hips, rutting against the base of his palm. Joel laughs softly.
“Patience, darlin’. Don’t want it to be over ‘fore it’s even started.”
Your head rocks back and forth, eyes tight shut. It’s all you can fucking do, tied tight to the bed. Joel pumps his fingers in and out of you, adding a third when you’re wet enough, thumb never leaving your clit.
You can feel your orgasm brewing in your stomach. Feel the tension between your hips. You’re chasing it, eyes shut, focusing only on Joel’s hand fucking in and out, in and out. You’re coming close, body pushing into the mattress, legs widening even more to let him slip a fourth finger inside you.
“Feel good?” he asks, almost with a laugh. There’s a smirk painted across his lips, you know it, even though you can’t find the energy to open your eyes.
You whimper in response, some small, muffled sound roughly shaped like yeah.
“Yeah,” Joel agrees, and his wrist flicks harder.
You moan every time his fingertips kiss the edge of your cunt, pushing against the soft walls. You moan when he drags them out, leaving you empty. Again, when he pushes them back in, rough and fast. And then when he lowers his lips to your ear and tells you how good you’re being, how pretty you look, how hard he’s gonna…
It’s like he changes his mind in an instant.
Withdraws his hand, slick-covered and still hooked. Pulls it away as quickly as he pulls your orgasm from your body. It drains from you; reduces back to an ache you can’t reach.
Joel slips his fingers between his lips as he readjusts himself, repositioning on the squealing mattress. Sucks them clean as casually as he would at a cookout or something, then takes your hips in both hands and straightens you up.
His jeans are tugged down barely past his ass. He’s not prepared to waste any time ripping his own clothes off like he did yours. Just leans forward, pulls his solid cock from his boxershorts, and spits into his hand.
You watch through eyes glazed with lust as he strokes himself a couple times, eyes always on your swollen cunt, groaning as his spit coats his shaft. Then he lowers himself to you and does the same, only running his length through your folds.
You whine, feeling that familiar thickness separate you so close to where you need him, and yet so fucking far.
“Joel…” you whisper, but he’s not listening.
Transfixed on the sight of his cock moving against your soaked cunt. Listening to the sweet, wet sounds the pair of you make. His tip catches on your entrance a couple times and you gasp. Just fucking do it already.
“Fuck,” Joel growls under his breath, and then…
It’s been months. Might even be years. But the feeling of him pushing inside you for the first time is still the same. Every. Fucking. Time. He’s bigger, thicker than anyone you’ve ever slept with before. And he knows it, because every single time, he glides into you without hesitation. No time for you to adjust. Just fills you up straight away, lets you deal with it later.
He’s cocky like that. Too careful when you’re on the road, and too careless when you’re between the sheets. Not that you’re fuckin’ complaining.
Your mouth falls open in a choked moan. Your lungs are gasping for air. Joel’s all you can feel.
Your elbows lift into the air, arms desperate to break free just to grab onto him, ground yourself, feel him close against you. Your wrists lock against the hardwood, leather digging into your skin as punishment for trying to break free. You’re stuck; nothing but the overwhelming feeling of him between your legs, filling you up and leaving you empty over and over again.
“Good girl,” he’s panting, still watching where his cock lines up with your cunt, and then disappears inside.
He leans down and his lips find home on your shoulder, sucking sweet marks into the skin like he always does. His tip bumps against your cervix, jolts of sensitivity pushing through you each time he bottoms out causing you to whine into his flannel.
“Fuck, Joel.”
“I know, I know. I got you. I’ll get you there again, baby.”
You had a routine. Follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. Deviate slightly from that routine, even for a minute, and you threw the whole agreement into jeopardy. One misstep on a crowded street dotted with cars once had a sniper open firing at you both for nearly two hours until Joel found him and put a bullet between his eyes. That time your curiosity got the better of you and Joel almost lost a hand stopping you from walking down an alleyway and straight into a wire trap.
Repeat it, Joel had said that night. Crouched by his apartment window, rain battering off the glass. Hands on the frame, ready to hoist it up and let you slip out any second. Repeat. It.
Do as you say, you whispered back. And only then did he pull the sash.
This is not the fucking routine. This is not the agreement. You fucked, of course you did. But that’s all it ever was. Hungry, touch-starved, desperate sex. Bored sex. We-almost-died-today sex. Not this.
Not: clear an entire motel just so nothing within a two-mile radius gets to hear you fuck me senseless. Strip me down, tie me up, push me to the edge with your hands, but don’t let me go without you. Curl your lips around my ear while you’re buried inside me and whisper praises. Whisper baby. Whisper…anything you like. Anything you wouldn’t say when the sun’s up.
This feels like it means something. To both of you. Feels like Joel’s looking for something in you, asking something of you. And you want to give it to him, whatever it is.
And maybe that’s the point.
He’s proving that he could make you do fucking anything. Let him tie you to a bedframe, push you close enough to the edge that you can feel the pressure of release beckoning you forward like the wind circling your ankles.
And you’re proving that you’ll do it. You’ll do what he says. Follow him to the edge, refuse to jump. Pull his body into yours, make it feel like home for a night.
He’s proving that he’ll take care of you, and you’re proving that you’ll let him.
Your wrists are burning. Leather digging marks, searing skin, then rubbing over it again and again to cut it deeper. It’s starting to hurt, if you’re honest with yourself. Your face probably gives it away.
Probably, possibly. Definitely.
Joel notices you quieten and lifts his head from the crook of your neck. Studies your face for a fraction of a second and knows.
“Hey,” he says, reaching up. He loosens the belt with one hand whilst still deep inside you, hips thrusting slowly just as a place marker.
When your hands slip free, Joel’s clasp gently around your wrist, fingers delicate over the sensitive, reddened skin. His eyes almost glisten at the sight.
“Baby…” he whispers.
“’s okay,” you reassure him, loosening his grasp on you and settling your shaky hands on his jaw. “I’m okay. Liked it.”
Joel lowers his forehead against yours and picks his pace up again, and you moan into the space between your lips. Your legs lift higher, knees bumping against his shoulders. His hips snap into yours, his jeans rutting against the inside of your thighs, the bed creaking with each messy thrust.
“Close, baby,” his voice vibrates against your lips.
“Yeah,” you whine, chest pushing against his. “Fuck. Right there. Fuck.”
Your arm drapes over his shoulder blades, nails dig into the rough cotton of his shirt. Your left hand is still at his jaw, fingers caressing his cheek. Joined together at your hips and your brows, gaze never really meeting for longer than a second, but still. You’re right there. Joel – he’s right there.
It’s new, it’s intimate. It’s almost…sweet.
“Gonna cum with me?” he asks, sincerely. He’s not trying to coax it out of you. He’s checking that you want to fall over the edge. Not for him, not because of him, but with him.
You nod and he returns it, sweat sticking his dark hair to his forehead.
With his eyes on you, flitting between your parted lips and your batting eyelashes, too scared to settle on either place for too long, he lifts your hips and fucks into you fast. Deep. Fucking – hard. Skin slapping against yours, breath hot and tangling with yours between your lips.
The pressure between your hips begins to build again, rapidly, Joel adding to it with every movement. Every push of his thick cock against your walls only draws them in tighter, closing around him, holding him closer to you with each moan escaping both your lips.
“Darlin’…” he murmurs in a broken voice, and you know. He’s starting to falter. Thrusts weakening.
“’m there too,” you reply, gasping for breath.
“Let me – feel you,” he says, “pretty girl.”
Maybe it’s the fact you don’t normally talk. Maybe the fact he never touches you the way he has tonight. Maybe it’s him wanting you to cum first, before he will.
Or maybe it’s pretty girl, that finally sends you over.
You look so good to him. You’re being so good for him. ‘n he can’t help it, has to let you know. Has to let every thought that passes through his head slip out past his tongue.
Pulling his chest flat against yours, you throw your head back to the pillow with a moan so filthy, so guttural that you’d be surprised if you don’t have company in five minutes.
Joel’s at your heels, face buried between your breasts, groaning into your chest as his cock twitches deep inside you and you feel him fill you up.
Your orgasm’s still knocking you senseless, every nerve in your body electrified. You’re holding Joel tight to your body, his ear flat to your chest, and you know he can hear your heartbeat. Know he’s listening to it throwing punches from behind your ribcage.
He’s still groaning through his breaths, heavy and thick with his release. Cock still deep inside you, still, softening. You lay like that for…well, you’ve no idea how long. But after a bit, Joel pulls himself up off of you and wanders into the bathroom.
You sit up on your elbows, taking deep, steady breaths, and let the stars in your vision dissipate. Joel emerges a couple minutes later and finally tugs his jeans down. He lifts both his shirt and the tee underneath off in one motion, tossing them onto the sideboard, then slips back under the covers, wordlessly hooking a hand around your upper arm and pulling you down onto his chest.
Your legs intertwine with his. There’s cum seeping out of you onto his thigh. Both of you, mixed up as one. His fingers sift through your hair, doing little to untangle it but trying all the same. His breathing in time with yours, his lips pressed safely to the crown of your head.
Before you know it, you’re sleeping.
Dawn breaks early. Too early. You’re still tangled up in Joel, feeling his chest rise and fall. Listening to his heartbeat – slow, calm. The drapes – not that there’s much left of them – are too thin to stop any light from flooding in. It’s only a matter of time before he wakes up.
The rough sheets sting against your wrists – red marks scoring them where Joel’s belt had been. You wince, running light fingers over the grazes, hissing at your fingertips as they go.
It hurts way less than it thrills you. This little reminder of what you did last night. What Joel did. The pain subsides the longer you touch the scars, knitted brows melting into a smile.
You slowly lift your head, propping yourself up on your elbow. Just watching him. The dust in the room frames him in a sea of white glitter, the slow-emerging sun lights across his face and dips where the scar on his nose sits.
His arms are still around your waist, cradling you. Holding you to him. You know he’s stirring when they tighten, and then fall loose. Façade back up. Walls slowly rebuilding.
You dress yourselves in silence. Run out of words to say. There ain’t nothing to say – nothing that wasn’t said last night. Joel sinks into the mattress beside you to tie his laces, and your arms brush against one another a couple times. It’s like fire on ice.
He’s first to leave the room. Just pulls his jeans over his boots and stands, unlocks the door and lets the light flood in. You check once over for anything left behind, and slip out. The air is cool, twilight still slowly washing away. You sling your jacket over Jet’s back and pull yourself up.
Joel’s t-shirt is loose over your shoulders. He gave you a fresh one from his bag. It smells like him, but you don’t let him see when you bury your nose into it to breathe him in. The hem bunches up over the top of your thighs once you’re sat on the horse.
His eyes scan down you once, surveying you in hisshirt. Then he swerves off back toward the road, silhouette cutting between the rays of sun streaming between the pine trees.
“Ghost,” he tosses over his shoulder.
“Huh?” You click to Jet to follow.
“Horse’s name. Ghost.”
“How come?” you ask when you’re side by side with him.
He shrugs, upper lip turning. “When it’s dark, you can’t hardly see her. She’s like a ghost.”
Joel’s hand surfs gently across Ghost’s mane, fingers scratching her shining coat. Your bodies rock in time with the sway of the horses’ walking. The echo of their hooves on the asphalt masks the silence for a few moments.
“Alright,” you eventually accept, turning away to watch the sun lift above the prickly treetops.
And to hide the smile tugging on your lips.
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What if you bailed Joel out for indecent exposure
1k words, stepdad!joel x f!reader
WARNINGS: Reader dacryphilia, angst, humiliation, grinding, dry sex, fingering, handjob, cum eating, this situation is hot to me, ok?? 😮💨 (and amusing) Can read alone or (for more cum) with: Amazon (2.7k) and the bonus snaps. Stepdad Master List.
LET'S PRETEND he’s jacking off and snapchatting you from some sketchy parking lot on the way home from the gym. At the end of the video, before he comes, you can see the red and blue lights flashing in the background and he says “oh fuck” and it cuts off.
His mugshot - Messy hair, sweating, arms and chest stretching out a tight white t-shirt, big sad dairy cow eyes, flexed jaw, slightly biting lower lip?, red around his eyes (cried in the back of the police cruiser?), overall look of desperation and humiliation. 🥺
You're his one phone call 🥹, so hopefully you accept the charges. By the time you get the cash together, he’s been there for a few hours. You do the paperwork and sign for him, and they give you a ziplock of his belongings: his glasses, keys, and phone, which has a cum smear on it. Let’s pretend his car is still in the sketchy parking lot.
He's really quiet, won't make eye contact, he just mumbles, "thanks," as he puts on his glasses on the walk to your car. You ride in silence until you hear him begin to sniffle and get emotional and something stirs between your legs. You reach over and try to grab his hand. He limply accepts it.
"I missed you," he sniffles. Your only response is to bring his hand to your thigh. He lightly squeezes it and takes a deep breath that he lets out with a depressed sigh. At a stoplight you turn to look at him and he faces you for the first time with his big, glistening eyes and his quivering bottom lip. There’s a growing bulge in his heather gray gym shorts from rubbing your thigh. God, he looks so hot.
You pull into the sketchy parking lot and tell him, “You’re gonna have to get it together before you go home. ”
“Yeah,” he wipes his eyes.
“Why don’t you come to my apartment first and i’ll make you some tea?”
He nods without looking at you. He looks straight ahead at the glove box and you see another tear roll down his cheek. It’s too much, he’s JUST TOO HOT like this. This big, strong, ruggedly sexy man is a whimpering mess in your passenger seat all because he’s too attracted to you to keep his hands off himself? You’re throbbing with need for him. He opens the car door and says “thanks again.” He goes toward his own car, and you turn yours off.
He turns around and looks at you, confused, and runs a hand through his hair. You could eat him alive. You walk to his SUV and open the back seat, nodding toward it for him to get in. He looks around nervously. Clearly afraid, he hesitantly gets into his spacious back seat. You turn on his car and air conditioner.
-------
You brace your right hand on his bicep and climb into his lap. He flattens his back into the seat to make room for you. His cheeks are still wet below his eyes. The look on his face says you can make him do what he just got arrested for and he’ll let you. You’re just gonna finish what he started.
You settle onto his lap and he scoots forward with a lift of his hips that presses his hard-on against you. You both sigh. You read his face and cup his cheeks. You lightly kiss the wet skin of his cheeks, then smash your lips into his. He hums, “Mm” in surprise and he gradually lets his hands explore you. He hikes up your skirt and feels you aren’t wearing panties. He breaks the kiss to look, pulling the front of your skirt up even further, and you tilt your hips. He groans when he sees your naked cunt. You reach down and urgently take his hard cock out of his shorts.
You press your dripping sex up against his raging erection and say “c’mon, let’s finish it.” You grind up against him, clit throbbing, aching for relief. You’re both moaning, you’re getting his cock all wet.
You reach down to finish yourself off first. He pushes your hand out of the way then slides two fingers into you and begins to work your clit with his thumb. It only takes a few seconds before you’re moaning “J-Jo-Joel,” clenching around his fingers, then he removes his hand and yanks you up against him and he can feel you pulsing against his cock.
“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, and you drag yourself up and down against the smooth skin of his shaft until your orgasm fades. Then you reach between you and grab his cock, all slippery with your arousal.
Your lips meet hungrily again and you jack him off with a quick stroke as you both moan into each other’s mouths. When he breaks the kiss with a gasp, you urgently push your ass back and get on your knees between his feet, still stroking his cock. Then you put your lips around it.
He goes, “Nnnng.---ahhhh, ohhh–ooohhhh,” sighs your name, and moans again as he release a huge load into your mouth and you lap up every drop. You swallow, and keep swallowing as it keeps coming, and he keeps sighing. When he's finally spent, his big hand cups your cheek. He sighs and rests his head back.
Then he comes to your apartment and you let him lay down with you and he curls up on your bed next to you like a puppy with his fluffy head in the crook of your arm until it’s late and he needs to go.
-------
Thank you for reading this scenario. <3
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Crush | Hwang Hyunjin Oneshot
➭ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x (F) Reader
➭ Genre: Fluff, Little bit of Angst
➭ Warnings/Tags: Cursing, Kinda Sad, Fever Dream
➭ Disclaimer: All members of STRAY KIDS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are purely coincidental. Also this is my story so please don’t steal!
➭ By: serendipity_haven (Taexxgukkie & crooked-haven)
Word count: 1k
-Y/n's Pov-
"Come on! Die Die Die!" I screamed in excitement while punching the character in front of me. "You're cheating Y/n! Button smashing is an instant L!" Lucas screamed in game rage since I won for the 5th time in a row. "Come on guys, food is here." I shut off the console and got up off of the floor, stretching out my cramps. "What's for dinner Hyunjin?" I say in a yawn. "Pizza, use your eyes." he answers while stuffing his face. I roll my eyes playfully and grab my own slice, meat lovers my favorite. I sit at the kitchen table while everyone eats in silence, it's just us three here since Hyunjin's parents are on a business trip.
Lucas, Hyunjin's 13 year old brother invited me over for some video games and how could I resist? I would get to see my crush, yes it's Hyunjin, we are what you would call, childhood friends. I'm aware that he has a girlfriend, but that doesn't stop me from crushing silently. What's not to like about him? He is charming, funny and sweet, so much more- "Hello???" Hyunjin waves his hand in front of my face and I come back to reality. "What?" I answer while taking another bite of my pizza. "You were drooling!" Lucas says while laughing at me. My face instantly heats up to a dark cherry red and I roll my eyes. "I was not, I was thinking!" I can hear the snickering but I ignore it.
-Time Skip to 9 PM-
"Well now that Lucas is asleep I better go now." I say giving Hyunjin a side hug. I am a little sad to be leaving and part of me wishes he would ask me to stay but I had this gut feeling that he just wasn't going to. He has a girlfriend, he probably wants to call her over instead- "Earth to Y/n!?" I snap back to reality yet again, only to realize that I was staring at Hyunjin. "Is your main hobby just staring at my beautiful face?" He smirks mockingly. I scoff and sigh. "Absolutely not! I was just-" he cut me off. "Thinking, I know." I walked over towards the door. "Nothing wrong with thinking you know."
"I know, but where do you think you're going? I didn't rent a whole movie for you to just not watch it Y/n." I look at him confused as he makes his way over towards me, gently pushing me into the living room. I sit on the couch and ask what he means. "I rented the Avatar 2 for you! You wouldn't shut up about it last week, my poor ears!" He jokes acting hurt. I instantly feel better, I get to watch a 3 hour long movie with my crush, alone! Even though this isn't anything new, it still feels so exciting, but then the sick feeling inside me came back up when I remembered his girlfriend. "I am flattered Hyunjin, I really am but I honestly think you should watch it with Luna.." I say, faking a smile.
He sits next to me and gently grabs my hand, I can feel the heat creeping up to my face again, and he speaks in a low tone. "Me and Luna broke up 3 months ago." I gasp, how could he not tell me this? As much as I was jealous of her place in his life, she was honestly such a great friend. "Why didn't you tell me? What happened?" He looks down, avoiding eye contact before breaking the silence. "Nothing happened I just realized I had feelings for someone else as did she." Yeah that stung, but I can't blame him, the heart wants what it wants. I push his hand off of mine and hug him, a friendly hug. "I am sorry, I hope all goes well with this new one." All hopes I had were thrown down the stairs, but I really can't be mad at him.
As I stand up, he quickly speaks again, making me freeze. "It's you Y/n, it's always been you." I step back, too stunned to speak but quickly punch his shoulder. "That's not a funny thing to joke about! You asshole!" I slam my hands on my hips and he starts laughing. God damn it, I knew it! "Y/n, I'm not joking this time I swear, I really like you." My body relaxes and my eyebrows knit together. "Me? Why me?" He stands up and walks closer towards me, stopping in front of me, reaching out. "Because you're you." Wow the butterflies I feel, I think they're doing summersaults. "So you could say...that I am your crush?" He snorts. "If we were like 12!" I love his sarcasm. "I like you too Hyunjin." He smiles and nods.
"I know, you love staring at me, and besides Lucas told me." "I am going to kill that little gremlin!" "Well before you do, let's make this official." He slides his hand onto my waist and pulls me closer, gently tucking a loose strand of my Y/H/C hair behind my ear. I feel my breath fastening, this is all I have ever dreamed of, it's almost happening! I close my eyes waiting for a kiss. After 2 seconds of nothing, I open my eyes to a pitch black room. I was dreaming the whole time. I glance at my alarm clock and read 4:26 am, god damn it!
End♥︎
A/N-
Sorry for the small heartache I may have caused, I just really like these types of day dreamy stories!
Anyways I hope you all have a fantastic day/night and see you soon don't forget to leave a heart~ <3
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💛💫 1000 DOWNLOAD CELEBRATION 💫💛
Thank you for 1K downloads!! To celebrate, we've put together a little surprise. This will be the first installment of 3-- we hope you enjoy!
✨️✨️✨️✨️
Art by @minthe-drawings
Upper Hand
By Cath, editing by @crescencestudio
You lay sprawled out across the bed, comfy in your pajamas as episodes of your current guilty pleasure played. It was a crappy reality TV show. Meaning it was bad, trashy, very un-reality for a reality show– everything anyone could ever want in a guilty pleasure. But as you rewatched the show, things just weren't quite hitting the same.
Maybe because the newest episodes were released last night.
You'd promised Theo you wouldn't watch ahead without them. Since they had a meeting at some ungodly early hour today, they'd gone to bed early last night. Which meant you hadn't been able to watch it yet.
They had even made you swear upon the life of your freshly drafted manuscript that you wouldn't watch until they got home.
Twice.
But… how would they know? You could just clear the watch history and act surprised, right? Maybe just for one episode…
You queue up the first new episode. The theme song plays in your room, only to be interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking.
"Shit shit shit...!"
You scramble for the remote, somehow losing and finding it in the blankets a half dozen times before you manage to smash the power button. As the TV shuts off, you resume some kind of casual pose on the bed.
Wait... This makes no sense. Why would you be sitting on the bed in silence? You should have–-
The door swings open. You're out of time.
"M'love?"
You roll over from your mock-lounge position to greet them, and your words die on your tongue.
Theo is… in a suit.
You'd been sound asleep when they left this morning, and hadn't seen them get ready. You didn't even know they owned a suit!
They blink a few times at you, adjusting the sleeve of their shirt before sliding the jacket off, apparently entirely unaware of the car wreck they just caused in your brain.
"... Are you okay?" They ask slowly, movements slowing to an uncertain halt. Their jacket hangs from two fingertips, about to be discarded on the armchair near the bedroom door.
"F-fine! Hi!" Your voice is too loud. What in the hell is this doing to you? You've been together far too long to be so easily undone by a simple outfit change, but… but..
You clear your voice roughly, trying your damnedest to act natural. Why is your throat so dry??
"Hi," Theo echoes. A small smile curves their lips, and they let the jacket fall to the chair. Their eyebrow arches, and you know you've been caught.
Dammit.
"You're making a face."
"..."
Their smile grows.
You try to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks and glare at him.
"I am not making a face."
"Right... And I use box cake mix." They take a few steps forward, closing the distance between you. Their legs press against the bed, and they look down at you with a nearly smug expression. "You're blushing."
The sound that escapes you is something between mortified and outraged. You always have the upper hand when it comes to Theo. That's one of your favorite things about them. How easy it is to fluster them. The way their cheeks flush when you tease them. The way they stutter when you praise them.
But that damn suit has thrown you for a loop...!
You gnaw your bottom lip and avert your eyes, scanning the room for some way to get them back for this. For making you so–
Fingers find your chin and firmly but gently redirect your gaze. Their gaze is affectionate.
And heated.
It sends a thrill through you, and for a moment, you can only stare up at them. At the curve of their lip as they smirk at you.
Fuck it.
You rise up on your knees, unsteady on the mattress. Their hand leaves your face, and their expression morphs to surprise as you grip them by the collar of that crisply pressed shirt. You pull them to you.
Their hands find your waist—as if by reflex—but their eyes only widen, looking increasingly stunned, as you press your body against theirs. You bring your mouth a hair's breadth away from those slightly parted lips. This close, you can smell the bakery off him—sweet vanilla and warm cinnamon.
Their face goes scarlet. The smile you give them is undeniably wolfish. And appropriately so. You could absolutely devour them.
"Now you're blushing." You whisper. Your voice is husky but steady. Just like that, you've gotten the advantage once more, and it's delicious.
You pull him down over you, and they offer absolutely nothing in resistance, catching themselves on their elbows. Their eyes never leave yours, and you get lost in the overwhelming blue of their gaze.
"S-So… good suit?"
"Very."
You tug their collar again, and suddenly, you're pressed between plush blankets and Theo's firm body. There's a surprising amount of strength in their lean form. Your bodies slide together, puzzle pieces. Made to fit against each other. A slow, controlled release of air passes their lips–the exact reaction you were looking for.
Their mouth drops towards yours. They wrap an arm around you once more, to pull you ever closer, like the two of you can never be close enough. Their touch is tender, but there's an edge—a fervor—to the way their fingertips dig into your sides. You relish moments like this, when you can coax them past their usual gentleness, and into the kind of desire that overrides their instinct to treat you delicately.
You wrap your arms around their neck, blood racing with anticipation–
There's a sound. Music…?
It almost sounds like...
Your eyes widen. The TV is on. Showing the exact episode you had sworn on your newborn manuscript not to watch—
Theo's eyes snap wide, and they whip their face towards the television. You scramble in the blankets, trying to find the remote, but their arm locks around you and holds you in place. You're scrambling fruitlessly as they pin you. Their gaze turns back to you in horror.
"You were going to watch… without me??!"
"I– I–" You sputter, trapped and entirely uncertain of how to proceed. How did the TV...? Then it dawns on you. Your weight must have shifted just right, pressing the remote still tangled in the blankets. You swear under your breath. You know that means you have to face the consequences.
"W-Wait, Theo...!"
An impish grin spreads across their face, and they sit back on their heels so they're kneeling over you. For less than a heartbeat, fear shoots through you. It's entirely irrational, of course, but you can't deny the relief that floods you when they grab hold of one ankle and begin to tickle your socked feet.
You laugh and thrash and struggle, attempting to crawl away only to be tugged backward into a breathy, giggling kiss. You don't even notice the echoes of fear leaving you, can't even remember the feeling existed at all as you submit to your partner's kisses. A consequence you would gladly bear.
Hope you enjoyed!
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A Little Too Much Kirschwasser || NH27 x Magnussen!Reader
Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, age gap, oral (m receiving), praise kink, degrading kink, sub!nico
Wordcount: 1k
She walked in the Haas motorhome with her niece in her arms. She walked over to where her brother stood with his teammate
“Hey, god tur?” Hey, good walk? Kevin asked taking Laura into his arms
“Der var fint. Fik noget is” It was fine. Got some ice cream She smiled seeing her niece happy in his fathers arms
“Nico, this is my sister. Y/N, Nico” Of course she had seen him on television, but god, he was more handsome seeing him face to face
“Nice to finally meet you” She said as they shook hands
“Like wise” He smiled as he took his hand back
For the rest of the day and the weekend, she was always in conversation with Nico, even if her brother weren’t
After the race on Sunday, she had looked for her brother, but was no where to be found
“Have you seen Kevin?” She asked standing in the doorway of Nico’s drivers room
“No. You can’t find him?” He asked looking over at her from the couch he sat on
“No, I can’t. Can’t find Laura or Louise either” She explained to him. She saw he had a glass of some kind of liquor in it
“You want some?” He asked noticing how she started at the glass
“Sure. Thanks” She walked in, closing the door behind her. She sat down beside him as he poured her the drink “What is it?” She asked smelling the liquor
“Kirschwasser. Ever tried it before?” He asked as he took a sip of his own glass
“No, but I do love cherry, so I don’t see how it can be bad” She chuckled before tasting it “It’s good” She said as swallowed the liquor, feeling the way it burning running down her throat
“Well, it is one of the liquors we drink most in Germany” He explained to her
They talked more, as well as drank more. They probably shouldn’t, but it was only walking distance to the hotel
She found comfort in the way they could talk for hours like they had known each other for years, yet they’ve only been talking for a few days
“You know, you’re nothing like your brother” He said, looking at her with blown pupils
“I’m not? How?” She asked and chuckled as she took a sip from her glass
He knew it was the alcohol talking, but he proceeded to speak anyways “You’re pretty, he’s long from handsome” He chuckled “Don’t know who Louise locked that in” He took the last sip from his glass, making it now empty
“Thank you” She said, confidently not looking away from him “It’s hard to believe your single, taking you have the attractiveness my brother is missing” She smiled, making him laugh
Her own pupils were blown from the alcohol, and well, the images she was having in her head about the man sitting in front of her
It had only now hit them both how close they were actually sitting. They didn’t really have a choice, seeing how small the couch were
They had both discarded of their empty glasses on the table. She decided as well to act upon the alcohol
She cupped his jaw with her hand and smash their lips together. He immediately kissed back, pulling her into his lap, making her straddled him
Their lips moved in sync as the kiss got more heated. She started grinding her hips against his, drawing out a groan of him
She took the opportunity to explore his mouth with her tongue. His hands pushed on her hips, keeping her still
“We shouldn’t, if your brother found out-“ “Don’t talk about my brother when I’m making you hard and have my tongue down your throat” He whimpered slightly at her dominant tone as their breaths were heavy and fast
She stood up, but quickly went to her knees. She unbuckled his belt and zipped down his jeans
He bucked his hips, helping her to pull his jeans down enough for her to take his cock out. He groaned at the contact between the skin on her hand and his cock
She looked up at him as she licked a thick stipe up his cock, feeling all his veins as she did so
“Fuck, please” He bucked his hips up when her tongue slipped over his tip. She kept swirling her tongue around his tip as her nails dug into his hips
“Don’t tease, please” His hands grip her shoulders as he threw his head back. His heavy breath had turned into moans and whimpers
He moaned loud as she took all of him into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. He bucked his hips, fucking her mouth, hitting the back of her throat at every thrust
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum” She could feel him twitch in her mouth as his thrusts were getting sloppy
She kept her head all the way down as he came down her throat. She got off of him and swallowed
She stood up and pulled his face into a kiss “Ich will, dass du mich fickst, Nico” I want you to fuck me, Nico He whimpered at her words, but quickly made work of her pants and panties
He quickly bend her over the little table. He pressed the tip of his cock to her entrance. He put one of her legs on the table, gaining him more access
He slowly pushed in, gaining them both a string of loud moans. He started going in and out of her
His grip on her waist became tight as she had a grip on the edge of table, holding herself steady
He whimpered every time she would either praise or degrade him. Her words made him twitch inside her, getting him closer to his second orgasm as she clenched around him
“Fuck, I’m close” Nico whimpered as his thrusts started getting sloppier
“Already? Am I that good?” She smirked, even though she knew he could see it “Come for me, Nico” Her words sent him over the edge and she followed soon too
“We never speak of this to my brother. Got it?” She said kissing him soft
“Of course, he would kill me if he found out” She kissed him again before they both left to get to the hotel
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links to all my heartstopper fics!
hello! I am a fanfiction author! please enjoy links to all my 7 heartstopper (nelspring) fics so far. they’re all hyperlinked up at the fic title.
all of my heartstopper fics can be found here
memories painted in much brighter ink (4.1K, rated G, set in canon + light angst and healing)
“Nelson!”
Nick groans.
“I heard you got a boyfriend.”
“So?” Nick responds, and then he wishes he’d had the heart to make up a better comeback.
“I -” Harry fumbles. “I’m… happy for you. I think it’s, er, good.”
Harry Greene realizes how awful he's been to Charlie and Nick, and he apologizes to them after some deep thought and realization about what an cruel person he's been.
i like you inconveniently, you’re bringing out my dopamine (1.5K, rated G, set in canon)
“I think that’s because you have inner beauty,” Nick murmurs softly. “It’s not just your looks.”
Charlie really tries not to, but he blushes madly. “Dammit, Nick. That was so - ugh, so ridiculously smooth. Are you sure you don’t have this spell, too? ‘Cause I think I’m getting attached to you.”
“Well, maybe your magic’s rubbing off on me.”
Nellie yawns, clearly bored by the boys. They’re too busy flirting to pay any attention to her. The sheer nerve! She is the most important thing in any 一 no, in every 一 room!
can’t keep this beating heart at bay (2.0K, rated G, canon divergence)
Charlie laughs. “Sorry - you were telling me about teaching?”
“Yeah, I really like it so far! I’m a third-year, so I started getting some actual fieldwork to do recently.” Nick kicks a stone by the side of the road. “Your brother’s cute.”
“...Just my brother?” Charlie catches Nick’s gaze.
“You-” this is a disaster. “Listen-” This is a bisexual disaster, specifically. “I think you’re cute too.”
In which Nick is Olly's French tutor, Charlie has a crush on Nick, and Olly is so tired of watching these disaster gays try to flirt.
retriever? I hardly know her! (2.2K, rated G, dog walker AU)
'Oh god, oh god, he’s wearing rainbow shoes. Is he gay, or just extremely unaware that gay people exist?'
So there’s this boy. Man?
Boy? Fellow? Gent?
Cute Park Guy™ is either a professional dog-walker or someone with a large, bumbling group of pets. This is probably his day job; he plays tug-of-war with leashes and chew toys and, from time to time, Nick’s heartstrings.
In which Charlie is always at the dog park with a group of dogs, Nick is there with Nellie, and they both pine after each other softly from across the field.
it’s all an epiphany (0.7K, rated G, canon + light angst)
“Hey, weirdo,” Charlie whispers. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Oh! Hi. Sorry.” Nick rolls over between the comforters, hair on his legs grainy against them. “Dozed off for maybe two hours.” He smooths the longest curls back from Charlie’s temples and kisses there.
“Nghhh, Niiiick, go back to bed. That’s not enough time.” And, after a pause: “Are you feeling okay about David’s birthday coming up?” Charlie asks.
In which Nick despises his brother, even if they're only arguing in his head, and he falls even more in love with his boyfriend.
you make my dreams crumb true (1.8K, rated T, canon + wedding planning fluff)
“Hey, do I get to smash cake in your face at the wedding?” Charlie asks. He tries a slice of raspberry, closest to him. “Wow.”
“Depends, do I get to do it to you?”
Charlie gazes over Nick slowly. “Uh - yeah!” He’d misheard that at first. ‘You can do stuff to me after, too,’ he considers, except this is a public place.
In which Nick and Charlie try to pick a wedding cake flavour and flirt madly the whole time. Late-twenties Nick, unfortunately, still thinks bubblegum is tasty.
it’s an extremely rushed love story (baby, just say yes) (1K, rated G, fake engagement)
Dear god, this plan with Tao had spun wildly out of control. “You’re-” Tara sat down very slowly. “Engaged.”
Nick pulled her into a bear hug across the sofa. “And all because of you two!”
Darcy settled into the couch cushions as if they would fall apart if they hit the cotton too quickly. “Right.”
To get revenge on Tara, Darcy, and Tao for setting them up on a blind date they didn't agree to, Nick and Charlie pretend they're sickeningly in love and engaged.
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◆–Immortal Love–◆
★—Rating: Fluff—★
★—Warnings: Swearing, Kissing, Hugging, Blood, Fear, Panic, Anxiety Attacks, Crying—★
★– Pairing: Orange Cassidy x Lilith Punk–★
{♡}~Summary: After the Whole Jon Moxley Match at All Out, Lilith Genuinely Panics and Fears for her Boyfriend's life with the amount blood loss~{♡}
{♧}–WC: Around 1k–{♧}
[Lilith's POV:]
My heart dropped, Moxley busted Orange Open.. I almost cried seeing him limp around the fucking ring, the blood everywhere imprinted in my mind forever
{♤|At the Hospital 🏥|♤}
I sat in the middle chair between Trent and Chuck as in the blank ass waiting room. I couldn't control myself after the two hours of waiting, I lightly cried into my hands, the amount of fear and panic built up inside me smashing down like a hammer on my mind and heart...
Eventually at the four hour mark, Hook arrived. He sat beside Chuck since Trent was too busy trying to stop my crying ass as best he could..
"Is she gonna be ok Trent?" Chuck Asked
"Probably Not, Orange is her boyfriend. She's allowed to at least cry and shit.." Trent said
"No- I'll be fine.." I said through small choked sobs.
"Well clearly you're not fine currently." Hook Mentioned
We all sat in the waiting room until the nurse came out to see us.
"Sirs and Ma'am, you can go back now. One at a time though please, we don't need a clogged up room" she spoke
"Who wants to go first?" Chuck Questioned
"I think Lilith should go back first. So she doesn't have to worry that much anymore" Hook said
I didn't want to go back there that much, I hate fucking hospitals so I was already freaked out and anxious but I was told to walk the long ass hallway to Orange's Room.. Alone..
Trent and Chuck mentioned since it was around 7:30am that they'd be headed for food, and Hook would still be there waiting for DanHausen..
I approached the room and went inside, Orange was on the bed with a bunch of bandaging on his head.
I sat down in the chair they had by his bed for me, and I grabbed his hand...
"Lilith?..." He said wearily
"Yes dear, it's me... I'm here.." I said
He sat up and looked at me, he was clearly exhausted.
"Dear, you should lie down again, Trent and Chuck are out getting food- but you should still rest.." I said
He followed my words and lied back down, and he started to fall asleep so I sat there until he fell asleep then I left because Hook called my name because Trent and Chuck were an hour away from getting back and I had to say Hello to DanHausen.
Me, Hook and Danhausen all sat in the Waiting Room. Trent and Chuck then returned an hour later like I was told, and Chuck and Trent said to the Nurse they needed Orange to come join us, since one person at a time was allowed in that God forsaken room.
The nurse said Orange wasn't really complying because he didn't want to get up and go with the nurse, so I got up and headed towards his room
"Lily I don't like them" Orange Said
I hugged him and gave him a kiss
"I know you don't like the staff here, but c'mon, Trent and Chuck got your favorite" I said
He smiled and we headed towards the Waiting room, we got offered to go into the lunch room but Orange said he just wanted to be with his friends again
We ended snuggling after we ate and the doctors then said he was good to go..
I was actually scared for once.. about him.. I'm just glad he's okay
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Hello may I request yuta + how he is as a boyfriend ?
Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting! For a more immersive experience, I recommend listening to Miyavi’s song ‘Heaven Is A Place On Earth’ while reading this. Lyrics from the song are formatted “like this”. I hope you enjoy!
Pairing(s): Rockstar!Yuta x GN Reader
Genre(s): Fluff, Established Relationship!AU
Warning(s): it gets moderately suggestive at one point, but that’s it
Word Count: 1k
Taglist: @nct-writers @neowritingsnet @czennienet @kwritersworld @superm-net @ilovjaehyun @leeknowsredeyeliner @horanghoe @itbecina @allaboutthedongs @xuxibelle (fill out this form if you’d like to be added to my general taglist!)
The brightly colored lights and pounding of the music played over the speakers were almost too much for you but Yuta’s hand on your waist brought you back into the moment. You were currently at a party inside one of the most lavish penthouses you had ever seen and it was all to celebrate the release of your boyfriend Yuta’s latest album.
Over the past few years, he had made a name for himself as a musician and a celebrity, amassing a large following as his songs reached more and more people. Back when you had first started dating him, you had your worries that one day his career would take off and so would he. But he never once let you feel like anything less than royalty.
When he managed to find you in the crowds of the smaller shows he used to play, he made sure to point to you during your favorite parts of his songs. He would personally thank you in front of the audience and dedicate one or two songs to you. Even after all the excitement from being up on stage wore off, he was still the same Yuta at the end of it. Your Yuta.
He often liked to lie down in your arms after taking a hot shower and you let him, even if his hair was not fully dry yet. You told him countless times to dry his hair before getting into bed, if not for his or his hair’s health, then at least for the longevity of the pillows. He never really listened but it’s not like you could blame him. If you performed a two-hour show you would be exhausted too.
Yuta was quite honestly like a human cat. As soon as he got comfortable with you, that was it. He would fall asleep so quickly and leave you trapped underneath him in whatever position you were in. On nights that he wasn’t so tired, he would spend them talking to you about things the two of you wanted to do in the future, if or when he got more popular.
Those late nights bled into early mornings together and lazy afternoons. Sometimes he would put on a cheesy anime and make you imitate the lines of the characters, causing him to turn pink and become shy. Other times the two of you would play something like Super Smash or Mariokart but it would have to be turned off within an hour or two before things got too competitive.
The best days were when you could just lie down with him and find peace in the rhythm of Yuta’s breaths. He enjoyed them equally as much and took it as a day to recharge his creativity and use you as his muse. He claimed that he gets the best ideas when you’re around.
He once found a way to record the sound of your heartbeat and used it in the intro of one of his songs. He titled it ‘Heaven Is A Place On Earth’ and made it into a dark and beautiful tribute to his love for you.
When he told you that he wrote a song for you and included your heartbeat in it, you were imagining something softer and more delicate, maybe a song like Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift. You were thrown off from the start when he played the demo of the song for you.
The running bass riff at the start was enjoyable, though certainly not what you expected. His vocals in the first verse started in time with heavy beats before diving into a thin pre-chorus detailing his heated love for you.
“I’d give up my sky for you
Cut my wings, die for you
Thinking again too soon
Like a beautiful ecstasy
When you get me down on my knees”
Yuta was intent on watching your face for your reactions to every new lyric. By the end of it, you were staring back into his eyes with implications of things less appropriate to put into his songs. He had done a magnificent job with this one and you were definitely going to reward him for it.
There was quite a large handful of songs that were inspired by you and the list only increased with every album he released. Some detailed the emotions he felt towards you while others metaphorically begged you to step on him. You were the apple of his eye, the jewel of his crown and he was not at all afraid to show you off.
He took you to every party, every event that invited him, and proudly introduced you to his friends and colleagues. It was a little difficult at first, meeting so many new people and remembering each of them but after some time, you settled into Yuta’s circle and found your favorites.
You would hang out with them at parties but never too far away from Yuta. Originally, it was because he was a little insecure that someone might try to steal you away from him but now it was because he found peace in your presence despite the sea of chaos surrounding you both.
“So what did you think about the new songs?” He asked over the volume of the music, one of his songs, actually.
“You know I like anything you put out,” you told him before taking a sip of your drink.
He shook his head though he wore a smile on his face. “You’re the worst consultant but the best hype person.”
You leaned into him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. “Only the most for you.”
Yuta turned his attention fully to you and pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you for always supporting me. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
You laughed a little from the way he looked from this angle but respected his sincerity. “Thank you for taking me with you on your journey and keeping me by your side.”
“You’re my one and only. In heaven and on Earth.”
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After The Bridge
an: scene insert for Black Widow for (obviously) after the bridge, or how Natasha got from Norway to Budapest. (Warnings for nightmares/bad dreams. 1k, Gif not mine, BWF2022. I’m tired friends.)
.
Panting heavily, Natasha uses the last of her energy to wade through the frigid water.
Collapsing heavily on the rocks at the bank, she focuses hard on her breathing.
In.
Out.
She holds onto her ribs, she’s not sure if they're bruised or broken.
Her hand falls on the vials and she pulls them out, the bright red pierces through the darkness and she winces at the light.
Breathe, she reminds herself.
Her hands shake as she pulls the picture out. The other half of the one that’s stored in her go box in Ohio.
The one that Clint knows to grab if, when, anything happens to her.
It’s safe there.
She swears. This means..
This means so much.
Yelena is alive.
Yelena is in Budapest.
Yelena… needs her help.
She can’t stay here.
Panic curls in her chest as she pushes herself into a seated position.
She has to go back to the RV, her ID and money are there. If she can do that, she can get a phone and check in to the airport hotel, book a flight.
But first; she just needs to get up.
Holding her breath, Natasha braces and stands. Her legs feel like lead, and her vision blurs as she starts to walk.
She’s going to steal a car, that much she knows, she can’t keep this up, she’s tired and cold and in pain.
The first opportunity comes when she sees a Volkswagen Golf parked. It’s a older model that she thinks she can hot wire.
Turning away, she elbows the window and smashes it. The car alarm blasts; and she slides in, body uncooperative and fine motor skills shot as she pulls the wires down, severs two and joins them together.
An electrical current pulses through her fingertips and she swears heavily, sucking on her fingers. The alarm finally stops as the car starts up and she leans back on the seat and heaves a breath.
Pain shudders through her body. She wants to be somewhere safe so she can focus on what the fuck just happened.
If she thinks about it now and replays it in her head, she’s sure her body will shut down.
She drives; shivering heavily, and only remembering to breathe when her brain screams for it.
Natasha makes it back to the pitch black RV and remembers why she went out in the first place. She forces her body to move.
Like the generator, she’s running on empty.
She wants to make this as quick as possible. Unlocking the door, she strips and heads to the bedroom, peeling her wet clothes off.
She deliberately does not look over her body, preferring to be ignorant of her injuries. She knows it hurts, that’s good enough for now.
Natasha feels marginally better with fresh clothes and picks up two ID packs she’s separated out.
Packing the laptop and stuffing it into her backpack; she wraps some clothes around the vials and kneels to feel for the wad of money under the mattress.
She dumps that into the bag and then a water bottle and some food and leaves; back to the car. She contemplates blowing it up, but decides against it, sentimentality overriding sense.
There’s nothing in there that ties her to this place, and she doesn’t want to piss off Remy any more than she has.
Climbing back into the idling car, she pulls away.
To think that four hours ago, she was in her element watching Bond movies and eating chocolate, and now, she’s back on the fucking run.
At least this time she’s running somewhere.
To someone.
.
Natasha checks in to the Radisson Blu Hotel at the airport, and is barely holding it together as she rides the elevator.
Her hands are ice cold, and pain is radiating from every inch of her, breathing is hard; she’s on the edge of a panic attack and can feel it rising.
Room 705, she tells herself.
Opening the door, she eyes the bed.
She still needs to book the flight to Budapest.
She needs to clean her wounds.
Yelena is waiting.
.
She disguises her hair as short and takes on the alias of Ruth Smith, an engineer from England.
The accent is easy enough to fake as she boards the plane, hiding in economy at the back of the plane.
Everything hurts.
She is so tired.
Everything about the last night is a blur and all she can remember is the ice bath in the hotel that finally grounded her enough to book a flight and patch her wounds.
She’d woken on the floor, not remembering how she got to sleep, which in itself was worrying. Natasha knows she’s probably got a low grade concussion and it’s making her reflexes slower.
Thankful for the window seat, she pushes her bag under the seat in front of her and pulls her jacket around her.
There’s still cold in her bones from falling in the water, and a feeling that, until this is over, she’ll never get warm.
The plane ride is predictable.
The flight attendants check on her, ask her if she’s okay, and within her row there’s only one other person. He keeps to himself, and looks harmless enough.
Threats assessed, Natasha closes her eyes.
.
She dreams of swimming.
Fake memories mix with real ones, as she sees Yelena drowning. She’s too far away and can’t save her.
The dream morphs and it’s Yelena behind the mask.
“You killed me,” she growls.
It changes and it’s Dreykov; his face is burning, and and he laughs.
Natasha feels a hand on her thigh and she startles.
The feeling withdraws and she orients to the owner.
It’s her seat mate.
“Sorry,” he whispers, “you sounded distressed.”
The fact that she’d made any noise at all feels disturbing to Natasha, as she nods and licks her lips .
“Thank you, sorry,” she says quietly back.
The plane is dark and quiet, and the man nods, adjusting his attention back to the tiny screen in front of him.
He pats the seat between them, drawing Natasha’s attention to the small packaged cake and bottle of water.
“You were asleep,” he says by way of explanation, not turning to her but watching the movie. He seems to know instinctively that she does not want interaction.
Tears prick at Natasha’s eyes.
She’s always surprised at the kindness of strangers.
She shouldn’t be.
Maybe one day she’ll repay the world.
Taking the water, she sips it slowly, hoping that she’s not walking into a trap.
.
<3
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Hey, its me again. I couldn't stop thinking about that Rengoku SFW. Are you taking requests?🥺👉👈....If so l would like to request a short read of Rengoku & fem!reader, where he finds her sad and depressed because she failed in her exam.
The themes should be a mixture of comfort & sweet fluff please....Oh pretty please😭😭...
If you can't manage to write it I'll understand ❤️.. Thank you in advance❤️❤️
Yess! Thank you for sending this to me! It's my first ask <3 <3 <3
I ended up doing this as soon as my coffee was done haha!
I hope you like it! Have a great day, @flametigress
WC = Less than 1k
C/W = Fluffy, comforting Rengoku, f!reader fails exam. Rengoku teaches her a new way to study.
RASPBERRIES IN THE PARK
You got out of your friend's car and started the short trek to your front door. Knowing that he was there, waiting to congratulate you on passing your exam, was breaking your heart.
He had helped you study for hours and hours. And at the end of the day, you'd not only let yourself down, you'd let him down.
"Pffoo. Rengoku? I failed. I'm a failure. I'm a big dumb, dummy." You practiced what you were going to say before walking into the house. "No, that's not ... ok. Rengoku? You're in love with an idiot and I hope you don't want kids because they'll be half me and I'm incapable of configuring complex thinking and applying that to {subject}. Geez, I'm not sure he'd even understand that sentence."
Opening the door you walked in to see the room brightly decorated; balloons hung from the ceiling like colorful stars, there was a creepy picture of your face on a shirt Rengoku was wearing, all crumpled and creased from him sitting in it.
You'd have laughed if you weren't trying so hard to ward off the tears.
As soon as he saw the frown on your face his arms were wrapped around you. "My little firefly. Did you not pass?"
Your face was smashed into his hard chest as you replied a muffled "Noooo!" Your body bounced in his arms as you sobbed.
"I just don't get itttt! We studied so hard. We studied so hard that you were starting to know the material! How could you know it and not me? You should have taken the stupid test for me. You're smarter anyway.”
The front of his creepy 'you shirt' was soaked with your tears now.
"Perhaps, flame, we need to implement a new method of studying? This style didn't work, so let's brainstorm. Let's get out of this house and find a different place to study.
"Awww, no more cuddles? You can't just kiss me until I'm all better?" You whined as he pulled away.
He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss before pulling back.
"No, sweetie. We need to fix this problem, not distract ourselves from it." He whispered in your ear, "Later, later I'll make you forget all about this." He winked and you blushed. You always blushed. And he loves it.
He took your hand, helped you into his car and began to drive around.
"I'm sorry I failed you." You said, still not quite over the blow.
"You didn't fail me, baby. You did your best. And that's all I can ask for. We'll keep working and try again. I promise you, we'll figure it out." Reaching over, you grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. "I love you, Kyojuro."
"I love you too, flame." He squeezed your hand back. "Now, where would you like to go for our study date?"
You sat back in your seat and pondered. "Hmmmm. Maybe the library? It's quiet and no one will bother us."
"That's not going to work for what I have planned. I'll take you almost anywhere else, though." His smile was so bright you had to look away for a moment.
You were well-versed in how loud he always is. But this was a little suspicious.
"For what you have planned? Kyojuro Rengoku. What are you up to?" You asked, feeling much better already.
"My little spark, I have an idea!" He got a playful look on his face as he pulled into the park.
He helped you out of the car and lead you to the grassy area.
The swans turned their attention to the two of you as he carried the blanket to a spot under a tree.
"Here. We'll continue your studies here. It's quiet. It's semi-private. No one will bother us. Does this work for you, love?"
You narrowed your eyes at him. You knew he was up to something, you just didn't know what. So, slowly, you nodded. The hair raised on the back of your neck as you tried to decode the look he was giving you. But you were at a loss here.
"Sit, my flame. Sit and we will begin!" He was always so excited about everything. It was actually quite contagious.
"Ok," he continued. "What is the process by which you can solve {problem}?"
You sat with your mouth hanging open and your brows furrowed. "WHAT?"
He laughed so hard you almost felt like it was at your expense. "I'm sorry, love. That's incorrect. Come here."
"Rengoku, this won't work. I don't know what you're talk-- oh my goddd! Ahaha! Kyo!"
He lifted your shirt and began to give you raspberries on your belly.
Your laughter echoed throughout the park. Music to his ears.
"What was that for!" You said wiping the tears away. But they were from laughing too hard, not crying.
"That's what happens when you get a question wrong." He smirked, obviously pleased with himself for thinking of this.
"What are you going to do when I get a question right?" You asked, tongue in cheek.
He smiled at you with a gleam in his eyes. You didn't know if it was just his eyes or the sun hitting them just right.
"That, my sweet inferno, I will have to show you at home." He raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly.
"Huh? OH! Kyo! What are you waiting for! Help me learn this stuff, man!"
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Word count: 1k +
Warnings: smut, swearing, prob bad writing💀
Draco malfoy x OC
You can always imagine yourself instead 💚
[I miss us]
Btw first time writing smut so comment on tips I should use next time I write it💚🤍🖤
———————————————————————
how many years?
how many years had it been ever since the decided to split up?
9 good years gone.
not that azalea and draco didn’t love each other. they were mad for each other and while they were together not a day not and hour went by without the two together. they were Romeo and Juliet. that’s how everyone else saw it. the love they held for each other never ran out, nor did separate because of an argument. it had all happened drastically.
“mom, I’m leaving now.” azaleas thoughts were cut when her fifteen year old walked out of her room and walked towards the door. dressed in tight fitting jeans and a cropped hoodie with her hair clip in her hair she looked just like her. her eyes were the same grey-blue color with platinum blonde hair, just like her dads. “sure hun. have fun.” she hardly got out the sentence before marcelo had walked out.
the hair clip thing. the one thing that she really loves about draco was how he had a few habits to annoy her and get on her nerves. sure she screamed at him when he did some of these things but secretly her heart grew bigger whenever he did it.
☀︎︎flashback
“you look cute.” draco whispered from behind azalea who was currently talking to theo in the slytherin common room. before he could answer he had already slipped his hand into her hair and taken out the hair clip that was keeping her hair in its bun. azalea turned to watch him slip it into his pocket where he probably had a large collection stored away. he grinned at her before walking away leaving her hair sprawled across her shoulders.
☀︎︎end of flashback
through the course of their relationship the two had also done some pretty scandalous stuff. hogwarts was always strict when it came to relationships so the two always had to keep it secret. only a few people had the privilege of knowing what was going on. even when it came to sex the two had to be secretive. before draco had the private dorm they would meet up in broom closets or empty classrooms for a quick fuck session which was enough until fifth year when their hormones got the best of them and they began to take bigger risks. empty hallways and the slytherin common room where their favourite places to take risks. when they heard someone walking down the corridor it ignited a thrill within them. it seemed to make the sex better and more enjoyable. they also explored each other’s kinks. finding a partner who could please her like draco was almost impossible. anytime azalea had sex with a stranger she would reminisce things that her and draco used to do. that’s what kept her sane.
☀︎︎flashback
“ahh---- fuck Draco just like that.“ she grunted out while draco drove into her faster. the sound of skin on skin was very audible in the empty hallway and even though classes would end soon and people would flood out of their classes soon they didn’t care. draco brought his mouth down onto her neck, sucking a hickey onto the soft flesh among many others he had placed a while ago. “shit, better hurry up whore before everyone walks out and sees what a mess you are.” that had azalea moaning louder that Draco had to take his hand and smash it over her mouth.
“say my name.” he grunted into her ear.
“draco.” She managed to whisper, earning a slap on her ass cheek.
“louder baby, you know how much noise you can make.” with that he also began to thrust into her harder that it took everything in her willpower to stop herself from sliding down the wall she was pressed against.
“shit draco! don’t stop. please don’t stop. keep going.” she suddenly screamed as she came while draco continued to chase his high.
☀︎︎end of flashback
Gosh she missed the sex. never a day was it bad nor boring. they always tried something exciting to do with him. something new.
suddenly there was a knock by her door and she ran up to open it.
“did you forget some—.” she asks before stopping midway when she sees who is standing there.“draco malfoy in the fucking flesh.” she mumbles and extended her hand as a sign for him to walk in.
“always nice to pop by ain’t it?” he said not bothering to greet her. that was their habit. they still met up occasionally even though their marriage has ended nine years ago. they usually went to each other when they needed comfort. no one would never be able to understand both their issues like they did.
“where’s marcelo?” draco asked taking a seat on her couch.
“left a few minutes ago. you missed her.” she replied leaning against the archway that led into the living room. she would never get tired of seeing him. his messy hair and his eyes. and his scent,gosh his scent. it had always done thing to her.
she walked towards him and sat herself right next to him and laid her head in his lap.
his hand slithered down towards her head and subconsciously began to play with the medium length of hair. they had done this before. during cuddling when they were married they would do this all the time. her hair would always end up a mess and all over the place by the time he would stop doing that.
☀︎︎flashback
Azalea dropped her bag by the stand near the door and in clipped her hair walking towards the living room. the first thing she saw was their six year old asleep on the couch. Draco was on the couch clearly not hearing her as she walked in.
“How was work.” he asked turning to look at her and push out his arms as a sway of calling her.
“good. same bullshit as always.” she muttered climbing onto the couch and setting her head in his lap. his hands wandered down to her bed of hair and began tangling it up.
“malfoy don’t do that okay. you know my hair when it’s in knots..” she argued but nevertheless let him do it.
“oh shut up. you know you love it.” he said stroking her hair more until she fell asleep .
“i miss us draco. so much.” she whispered against his shirt.
“same here zalea.”
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Can you do an angsty Shauna finding out that Collin left Oakland without telling her???
Only For a Night
Pairing: Collin Hoskins x OFC Black!Reader (Shauna Lewis)
Rating: M
Requested: Yes, by Anon
Summary: Collin visits Shauna for the last time.
Word Count: 1K
Jesus, I thought about this and this is gonna be a sad one. This is set after Collin calls Val on the phone in the movie.
Shauna was supposed to see Collin that day. They had scheduled to do some apartment hunting together. Shauna agreed to be Collin's roommate. She needed a new place after she and Zan’s father broke up and he had a steady job. So she figured why not help out one of her closest friends.
She was worried about him. He wasn’t acting like himself ever since he witnessed the shooting.
She could tell he wasn’t getting much sleep. Collin would ease Shauna’s worries by ensuring her he was sleeping and in turn, Shauna would reply, “You may be sleeping but you’re not resting.”
The last time she saw Collin he came to her apartment on the break on the verge of a breakdown.
She had just put Zan to bed and was falling asleep herself when several knocks jolted her awake.
She sprang to her feet; not knowing who was at her door, she grabbed the metal bat that sat at her bedside. She peeked out the peephole and instantly relaxed when she saw it was Colin.
She opened the door and he immediately hugged, his long form engulfing hers.
Shauna tried to get him to calm down and tell her what was wrong but he couldn’t. She walked them inside her home and into her bedroom. Instead of trying to get him to talk she held him until he was calm, her head laying against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. One she could feel hm taking slow even breath, she crane her neck up to look him in his face.
“Collin?” she questioned
“Can you-can you keep holding me?” Shauna nodded and eased further into his embrace.
After what felt like hours, Collin finally pulled back. He slowly let his hands roam his boy. Shauna was only wearing a sports bar and shorts and she could feel the trail that his hands left as they danced along her bare skin.
“Collin—” Shauna’s breath hitched in her throat when Collin gently cupped her face. He tentatively leaned forward, Shauna took a deep breath and closed the distance between them. As quick as the kiss happened, it was over. There was a beat of silence before the locked eyes again and Collin smashed his lips against Shauna’s in a passionate kiss. As much as Shauna wanted this go further se pushed him away. He looked at her confused as she regained her breath,
“Are you sure?” Collin nodded his head quickly before going back in but Shauna gently pushed him back again
“I need to hear you say it,” she insisted. Collin captured her lips in a chaste kiss
“I’m sure,” Collin kissed her again, this time it was slow it was like Shauna could feel everything Collin was feeling in that kiss. He pushed them down onto her bed until he was on top of her. He finally pulled his lips from her and pressed his lips all over her body. Shauna sat up and quickly got rid of her clothes, Collin’s soon followed. Collin stared at her in awe, Shauna covered herself in embarrassment she’s doesn’t really like the way her body looks after having Zan. Collin moved her hands away and intertwined their fingers
“You look beautiful,” He said quietly, he moved her braids out of her face
“So are you,” Shauna said, Collin looked away like he didn’t believe her
“Collin, you’re beautiful.” She insisted
“What-What do you see when you see me?”
“Hm?”
“Do you see that night at the bar?” Now it was her turn to cup Collin’s face
“No, Collin I don’t.”
“I feel like everyone who looks at me only sees one thing, even niggas who don’t know me.”
“I see someone who is smart, loyal, caring, a person who would do anything for their friends. I see you, Collin, and only you.”
When Shauna awoke the next day, she wasn’t surprised to see Collin gone. She knew that even though he doesn’t have a curfew anymore, he had to go back to the halfway house. She checked her phone and saw a text from Collin. She smiled and sent back a quick response.
During her lunch break, she sent Collin a text asking him what he wanted for dinner but he didn’t answer.
That night, Zan was staying with his dad since it was his week, as soon as Shauna got off of work she went to the store to buy things to cook dinner for the two of them, she splurged a bit on dinner she had a lot of appointments this past week. When she got home she got started on dinner so she could work on getting herself ready.
The time came and left that Collin was supposed to come over, maybe he was held up at work. Sometimes they have some last-minute moves. It was now night time and Shauna still hadn’t heard from Collin. She called for the fifth time and was sent straight to voicemail. She frowned, this was the first time it was sent to voicemail. Maybe his phone died, Shauna thought to herself. She felt silly for getting worked up, she’s always reminding him to charge his phone. Maybe he’s at his mom’s he did say he would stay with her until the two of them found a place. Shauna didn’t start getting worried until it was almost midnight and she still hadn’t heard from Collin, she was about to call him when the text from Nancy made everything stop.
Shauna made it to Nancy’s record time, she knocked fervently on the door and she didn’t register that it was Miles who opened the door, she marched straight into the kitchen, tears clouding her vision.
“Where’s Collin? Is he okay? Did he get arrested again, or did they—” Shauna choked up, she didn’t even want to finish that last question
“No, Shauna, he’s okay. I think,”
“You think? Where the hell is he?”
“Shauna, Collin left Oakland and I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @blackpinup22 @iknowthekoolaidflavor @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @ramp-it-up @daveeds-wife @chattykathysquietsister @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @endless-romantic-stories @chrisevanswife0405 @gothic-slasherfan-weeb @pinkbonnetandglasses @cocobutterbaby
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Falling From the Sky
Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader
Requested: Yes (This was a request from my 1.5K follower celebration. Only the stories listed in the pinned comment are open for requests.)
Word Count: 1K
Warnings: Fluff
Description: Wishing that a nice guy would just fall from the sky you get a little more than you bargained for when Superman lands on your table while trying to enjoy breakfast.
The day had started out normal enough. You had gotten up, got ready for work, and headed to the little bistro close to your office so you could have a quiet breakfast. However, the universe had other plans for you that day.
As you sat down to enjoy your breakfast you thought to yourself, “Why can’t someone nice just fall out of the sky and into my life for once?” And as if the universe had heard your silent question a figure plummeted from the sky and landed right on your table, smashing it to splinters before you.
There was a moment of calm before all hell broke loose. You met the gaze of the man and realized that it was Superman, and before you had time to process that he had literally dropped from the sky like you had secretly wished he was up and dusting himself off. He looked down at you and your wide-eyed expression and said, “Ma’am,” before taking off into the sky again.
The bistro gave you a gift card to pay you back for the breakfast that had been ruined by no fault of your own. It wasn’t your fault that Superman apparently decided to take a tumble from the sky and right onto your table destroying your morning meal. Thanking them for their kindness you took the card and headed to a convenience store near the Daily Planet so you could grab a snack and headed up to your office.
Everyone was in a frantic state as they tried to figure out what was going on with Superman and whoever it was that he was fighting. You watched the news coverage with everyone else before Superman managed to chase off whoever it was and disappeared. Not for the first time you wondered who the man behind the costume was. You were a reporter it was in your nature to want to uncover the truth, but you also knew that he had a good reason for wanting to keep his identity a secret from everyone.
Not long after your arrival, the villain of the hour was defeated and Superman was flying off to who knew where. Clark showed up shortly after and you turned to him with a grin and said, “You missed all the action, Kent. The whole office was buzzing because Superman was fighting another supervillain.”
He grinned back at you, “I’m assuming he managed to take down his opponent.”
“Of course he did, he’s Superman,” you snorted as you turned your attention back to your article. “I actually saw him, destroyed my breakfast, but it was still kinda cool.”
“Kinda cool?” You could hear the grin in his voice. “Sometimes I think you’re the only person in the world who isn’t obsessed with Superman, Y/L/N.”
You stopped typing for a second to lean back into your chair and stretch your arms above your head, “I mean he’s cool and all, and I think what he’s doing is great, but he’s still just another guy. Yeah, he has powers and saves the day, but there’s also a real person behind that spandex suit.”
“It's not spandex,” Clark said automatically and then he cringed.
Your eyes shot over to his and you asked, “You’ve talked to him?!”
There was something in his eyes that told you the next words out of his mouth weren’t going to be the complete truth, but you were going to let it slide because Clark had a tendency to be private. “It was a while ago, and I promised I wouldn’t take the information to the press or publish it in one of my own stories. He just doesn’t want everyone to know every little detail about himself.”
“Understandable,” you said. “But he’s still just some guy who happens to save the world from time to time. We don’t want to give him an overinflated ego.”
Clark chuckled, “No we don’t, and I’ll make sure to tell him if I ever run into him again that my co-worker thinks he’s average. Knock him down a few pegs from that pedestal he’s on.”
The two of you lapsed into companionable silence as you continued your work and Clark got to work on his own projects. That was how the rest of the day was spent between the two of you.
The next day you cautiously made your way to the same cafe as before, glancing up at the sky to make sure Superman wasn’t having another duel to the death with one of his enemies. The coast was clear and you got your breakfast and sat down to enjoy it. “Ma’am,” a voice beside you said and you looked up to see Superman standing there, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Superman,” you offered him a polite smile. “Here to destroy my breakfast again?”
He knew by your tone that you weren’t angry with him, merely teasing. “Not this morning,” one side of his mouth quirked upward. “I came to apologize for the other morning. Having me land in your food was probably not how you saw your morning going.”
“It wasn’t,” you said. “But now I know to be more cautious and not just assume my breakfast will be a peaceful event.”
He smirked at you which sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “Is there ever a peaceful moment in Metropolis?”
You pointed a finger at him, “You’ve got me there.”
He looked to the sky and then back to you, “I need to go, but I’ll try not to make a habit out of landing on your tables anymore.”
He went to take off when you asked, “Hey, by the way what’s your suit made of?”
He paused, glanced back at you, and said, “That’s really a third date kind of question. Only special people get to know some of my secrets.”
“Then how do I get one of these third dates?”
“I’ll be in touch, have a good day Y/N.”
It took nearly an hour of replaying that conversation in your mind to realize that you had never told him your name. You couldn’t help but grin at the thought of getting to the bottom of some of the mysteries that surrounded Superman. And what you didn’t notice was Clark glancing at you from the corner of his eye every once in a while and smiling as he too thought of your earlier encounter and wondering how he was going to go about this.
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I don't even need to say what inspired this, do I?
(1k, mentions of torture but nothing too graphic, and of course, a reunion hug)
***
This time, he really thinks it could be real.
He's lost track of how many days he's spent in the tiny cell- he's had enough time to explore it to realise there's nothing he can use to mark the passing of the days. Not even the sunlight reaches him here, wherever here is. The Nilfgaardian soldiers had blindfolded him when they finally caught up with him, and he'd spent at least two days being thrown around on the back of a cart before he'd been unceremoniously dumped in here.
It's probably been less than a month, but the pain makes it feel like he's been here forever.
They'd started small, at first, probably thinking that a bard would give up easily. He'd enjoyed being underestimated at first, each slap across the face proving he was stronger than they thought, strong enough to protect Geralt, even if it was still painful to think about him. He'd even laughed, occasionally, as his torturers became increasingly enraged with his lack of response.
He'd stopped laughing when they smashed his lute.
Even then, the anger had fuelled him. No matter how beaten and bloody they left him, no matter how much blood he coughed up or broken fingers he screamed over, he refused to say a word.
He'd expected their change in approach. After all, this was Nilfgaard, of course they had access to some of the most powerful mages on the Continent. He just hadn't been prepared for how real it would seem.
The first time his cell door had burst open, he hadn't even looked up from the mice clambering over his fingers. After all, it wasn't like he got any unexpected visitors.
But then. Then that voice, saying his name exactly how he'd always said it- exasperated- with what Jaskier liked to believe was a hint of fondness. Raising his head so quickly his aching body screamed in protest, his eyes had met amber ones that were oh so familiar.
"You came for me?" He heard himself asking, unable to tear his eyes away or stop his voice from shaking.
Geralt takes a step into the cell, sheathing his sword. Something about the picture seems strange, but Jaskier can't quite figure out what's wrong.
"Of course," he says. "How could I leave you here?"
And Jaskier laughs with sheer relief, that he came for him, that it's finally over, until-
It's the brooch. The one strapped to Geralt's sword, the one that had earnt Jaskier a hearty "fuck off," when he'd asked about it.
It's not there. Never, in over twenty years, had the brooch been missing.
The realisation rips through his chest, and he feels his eyes filling with tears. He reaches out a shaking hand, and the illusion flickers and disappears as his hand passes through where Geralt had been standing moments earlier.
"Nice try," he whispers, trying to focus on the relief that he hadn't given anything away, rather than the pain in his chest. "But you'll have to try harder than that."
The illusions get more and more detailed, and more and more heartbreaking. It's not always Geralt. Sometimes it's his mother, hissing that he was always such a disappointment, and why couldn't he be more like his brothers, or the Countess de Stael laughing mockingly at him.
You’d think he’d be getting used to it, getting his hopes up only to have them shattered all over again, but it starts to take its toll. He’s paranoid about everything now, hardly knowing what’s real and what’s fake, and terrified that he’ll accidentally give something away.
Geralt would really get a kick out of this, he thinks, after another fake Geralt had begged for his help to find Ciri, if he ever did come for me, he’d finally get his blessed peace, but only because I’m too scared to say anything at all.
A few hours pass without any noise outside his cell. This in itself is unusual- there’s normally a whole host of people willing to try more usual forms of torture when the mages aren’t available. He’s beginning to think they’ve given up hope of getting any information out of him when his heart sinks. If that is the case, then there’s only one thing left for him.
His own mortality had never bothered him much over the years, after all, he was barely 35, and looked younger to most people. But now that his death was so tangible, it really put things into perspective.
He’s contemplating what his funeral at Oxenfurt would look like, and whether Valdo Marx would dare to give a eulogy when the door to the cell swings open so wildly he almost throws one of his mice at the wall in shock.
Unsurprisingly, Geralt is standing in the doorway yet again, this time with such an earnest expression in his eyes that Jaskier thinks the mage could have studied acting at Oxenfurt. He doesn’t say anything at all, which is also unusual, just stares at Jaskier with sorrow in his eyes.
Credit where it’s due. Jaskier’s almost impressed. Feigning nonchalance, he focuses on the mice once more.
‘What is it this time,’ he asks, pretending his heart isn’t beating out of his chest, ‘Need help finding Ciri? Or maybe Yen’s in danger this time, although I should tell you that that’s the least believable lie you’ve told so far- she could kill you all in a second if you tried to capture her.’
Not-Geralt frowns. His voice is hoarse when he says, ‘Jaskier, I’m here for you.’
This time, Jaskier can’t hide the tears. ‘Nice try,’ he says again, ‘but I’m not foolish enough to think he would ever really come to save me.’
He turns his head away, pressing back against the damp wall, unable to cope with what deep down he’s always known to be true- that no one is coming to save him, that he will die unloved and alone in a cell, when he feels a strong hand gripping his arm. He slowly raises his head, looking down at Geralt’s gloved hand clamped like a vice around his wrist.
‘Tell me how I can convince you I’m real,’ Geralt says urgently, his gaze unwavering. Jaskier hesitates, feeling the slow and steady beat of Geralt’s pulse under his glove. Then, without pausing to think, he throws his arms around Geralt, who responds in kind, holding his shoulders tightly.
Jaskier exhales shakily, his emotions too turbulent to fully understand. Pulling back and smiling properly for the first time in weeks, he meets Geralt’s gaze.
‘I think you just did.’
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Maze - Newt (24)
word count: 1k reader! x Newt
warnings: violence, blood, fight
summary: you wake up in the Box, no memories, no explanations; the only thing that stands out is a certain name, written in bold on the palm of your hand
English is not my first language, enjoy-
CHAP 24
The tunnel was as long and as dark as you can imagine.
I felt the Gladers breaths around me, but no one dared to speak, not even once, in the long journey.
It felt like it took hours reaching its end, but when we stepped another step, suddenly, we were met with bright light.
It took some minutes to analyze the surroundings, but when I did I got a glimpse of a long glass to the side, behind some men and women were writing down something.
Some looked up just a brief second before looking down again, some never even glanced at the intruders, but I could spot some on the back lightly and politely clapping hands.
"It’s them?" I asked.
"The Creators" mumbled Newt.
We kept silent for a second, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did and that was Minho’s clue to act.
"You!" He yelled, his voice as unnatural as an animal, it reminded me of the hogs back in the glade; "you can’t even look at us!" He yelled again.
Like a response, something clicked and a door to our left opened.
A woman, that must have been in her early thirty’s stepped inside, her heels ticking the ground ; behind her, someone who wore a hoodie followed, his face impossible to catch as the cloth was covering his appearances.
"Welcome!" she greeted, "welcome back" she corrected.
"I’m happy to inform you phase one has been completed, we’re very proud of your hard work" her words empty as blood was all over our clothes.
"What are you even talking about" barked Minho.
"What do you want from us" asked again Thomas, his voice much softer.
"What we wanted, we already got, only one thing is left I suppose, only one" her voice incredibly cheerful.
The woman stepped to the side as she left his companion show himself.
The hoodie fall enough of his face to show burned skin, heavy eyes, and my breath hitched as I instantly reached forward: "Gally?"
But the boy looked nothing like himself, his eyes as crazy as the last time I saw them, his hands shaky as he got out a gun, pointing it right at me.
"Gally" i said again, the boy’s eyes lingering on me for a second, as Newt stepped forward, his hand holding back my arm, as his other one shoot forward, eyes glued to the Builder.
"Let’s calm down, alrigh’?"
Gally shook his head, the gun suddenly aiming for the opposite side of the room, Thomas in aim.
"They…are…controlling…" he took a breath, his face contorted in pain as tears fell down his eyes "me" he breathed before the sound of a shot broke the silence.
Everyone flinched, breath sucked, as we looked between us, what had happened?
I touched my stomach, nothing, I was not hurt.
My hands scooted towards Newt’s chest as it was moving up and down quickly, but again, nothing.
Before anyone could move, Chuck’s body fell down, first on his knees, then on his back, blood dripping from his chest.
"Chuck!" I screamed, reaching for the body, but a strong grip held me back.
The boy was trying to catch his breath, failing.
Soft breaths were all he managed to take, before his eyes went empty and his body still.
"Chuck" i said again, this time more like a whisper.
Thomas throw himself at Gally, punching, smashing, punching again.
His fists against the boy echoing in the silent room.
Teresa knelt to the body, her arms traveling for the wound.
"Help us!" she screamed, "he’s dying!", but the people on the other side didn’t look interested in the slightest, taking notes as that was the only reasonable thing to do.
As Gally’s body went still too, Thomas stopped punching, taking himself off the ground, his eyes empty and filled with tears.
I had time to look up, eyes locking with the short haired woman who stood there, her face contorted in a grin, when she muttered: "it’s you".
Another shot broke the air; blood dripped down the woman’s forehead as she fell down, the grin still shown on her face.
"What is happening?!" Minho questioned.
A man stood forward, "I’m taking you out of here, let’s go".
The room erupted in firing sounds, shots, screams, begging.
Everything falling into caos as the man stepped forward again: "I said we need to go!"
When my hand found Newt’s, I took a step forward, begging for everything to stop, hopeful it was now finally over.
We ran through a couple corridors, the man’s voice shouting to keep up in then fast run.
When we left the building behind, I got a glimpse of the structure, as my skin started to burn.
The man pushed us inside a shaky bus, as the driver pushed with all his strength the engine.
We started sprinting towards the unknown, when exhausted, I rested my head on Newt’s shoulder.
"It’s gonna be alright" I whispered.
A couple of seats ahead, Thomas was catching his breath as we locked eyes.
Were we free?
(the final chapter of this crazy journey, hope you loved reading this as much as I loved writing it.
thank you for sticking with me all this time, in hope to get to dream together again, I have one final question for you: enjoyed the ride?
Love, xoxo. Mia.)
Masterlist
© 2023 of Mia (arosesstorm). All Rights Reserved.
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