#i just want to move out and live somewhere far away where i only need to interact with people that i actually care about and not go to like

[schrodingerscougar]

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

--

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)

#ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #simon riley #mw2 #mw3 #modern warfare #simon riley x reader

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 29 - Hydrate or Diedrate

this was a rollercoaster. so I wrote something for the Drive to Survive chapter before I even wrote this. So I based this off of what I already wrote and yeah, I got this. There is slight angst but nothing as extreme as I've done in the past!

Sorry for the wait! I love you all!

You hated it. 

The floaty feeling. 

The weightlessness that floating brought. 

The feeling of lack of control. 

Your legs wouldn’t move. Your arms were too heavy. Your head rested against the side of your car. Thoughts were muddles, sounds were far away. Your head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. 

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see because of the sweat that saturated the inside of your helmet. 

You needed to get out. Get cooled off. Get your trophy. 

But the more you stayed in the seat, the better you felt. 

Oh, how sleep wanted to invade your mind. 

Just let go – it seemed to tell you. 

I’ll catch you – it promised. 

Give in – it demanded. 

Your eyelids blinked slowly as you tried to become just a bit aware of your surroundings. 

Where were you again? 

Oh, you were racing. 

What position? 

Second. 

Where was Max? 

Where was water? 

Where was…

It was all fading pretty fast. The lights hurt your head. The heat just clung to your body. Your arms felt as though someone tied weights to your wrists. Weights to your legs. 

There was suddenly pressure at your shoulder. Your body rocked back and forth, yet you had no strength to react further. The pressure deepened and you rocked harder. 

Where were you again? 

Oh, floating. 

Sleeping. 

Not breathing? 

That wasn’t it. It couldn’t be it. You needed to breathe to live silly. 

You knew that the noise around you got louder, but it was still so cloudy. Voices muddled together. You couldn’t tell where one voice started or where the other ended. 

Just let me sleep. 

So, that’s what you did. 

You’d be all right. 

Seems as though sleep won this time. 

Lando and Oscar watched in horror as Max’s facial features were wrought and pinched in worry. Like you, they couldn’t tell where the yells and screams started or where they ended. 

They hadn’t noticed at first. Too high strung on the race and race win to realize. They had smiles on their faces as Oscar won the race this year, as he had done the sprint last year. But this time it was a real race win. 

They congratulated the team, each other, their families who came to watch. Their smiles bright under the lights of Qatar. 

But the smiles dimmed as they watched Max strut up to your car. 

It was only then that they realized that you weren’t even out. What had it been? 2 minutes? 5 minutes? It shouldn’t have taken you that long to take the steering wheel off and get out. 

And then they watched Max rip his helmet off. They watched as he nudged your shoulder and your head weightlessly move side to side. 

The horror came next when the Dutchman started screaming at the team. Men and women jumped the little barriers and came running with medical supplies. Lando’s eyes wept as they had to haul your body out of the car. 

Oscar’s heart dropped when he realized that you weren’t moving. Right now, you were dead weight, just letting people finagle your body to how they saw fit. They watched as two men held you up by the arms, dragging you past everyone to hopefully somewhere you could be safe. 

When they were able to see your face, it gave them a haunted look. 

Your eyes were closed. Your mouth was hung open as your unconscious body tried to gulp in much needed air. They stepped forward, trying to see if their friend was ok. Yet, they were stopped by officials. Something about a podium? 

Oh, they had been racing. 

The race was over.

But you weren’t awake to see it.  

It finally broke through to them that they were still in the middle of the paddock. They could only nod numbly to questions being asked. The podium was no different. Oscar felt nothing as his anthem played. 

But how could he celebrate when you weren’t there. 

When you were supposed to be a papaya sandwich between them. 

When you were supposed to hold your trophy high. 

When you were supposed to be awake…and not sleeping. 

Max had followed the medical staff that was carefully hold you up as they walked. Both of his hands were full of helmet. He could feel the dampness of yours. It felt like someone had dunked it under the water before handing it to him. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this wet. 

Your physio had told him, told everyone, that you’d be much better than Singapore. That your diet finally brought your hydration levels up. That you were drinking proper amounts of water. 

That you shouldn’t be unconscious at this point. 

He watched as they propped you up. Something about getting blood to your heart. Max thought you should be lying down. Maybe then you’d look like you were really asleep. He knelt next to you when someone asked if he could hold you in that position. His knees would be sore, but it would be ok when you were ok. When your eyes were finally open. 

He watched your face and your eyelids flicker. 

Were you dreaming? 

The paramedics were quick to get cooling towels around your neck and head. One stuck an IV stuck in your arm. 

Ouch. 

Max wasn’t expecting your body to jerk so violently. His blue eyes quickly met yours when they opened suddenly. His hands steered your head so that you kept looking at him. Your mouth was once again dropped open as you tried to get precious air into your lungs. 

At the sight of your open eyes, more medics came over. They started to check your pupil dilation and then your blood pressure. Max could see that you were quickly becoming overwhelmed but his mouth stayed shut. 

They knew more about passed out drivers than he did. 

His heart rate skyrocketed once he saw your eyes start to flutter shut again. That’s when he knocked the hands away from your face and replaced them with his. 

As your eyes fluttered, the sounds were still jumbled in your mind. You just wanted to go back to sleep where it was quiet. The noises got louder, but it didn’t help your head. Hands poked and prodded at you, and all you wanted them to do was leave you alone. 

Yet, among the loud and the busy in your mind, you heard something soft. It was a voice. Kind, caring, quiet. 

You knew that voice. 

“Hey, you need to stay awake. Do not close your eyes.” 

Why did Max want you to stay awake? He knew how much you liked to sleep. You whined rather loudly, which drew a choked laugh from his lips. Max hadn’t realized that Charles had been there for a while. He also kneeled near and kept you steady. 

Charles knew a trick that worked with babies when they needed to steady their breathing. 

Max watched on as the Ferrari driver gently blew on your face. He wanted to comment, but kept his mouth shot when your eyes fluttered again, but struggled to stay open. But this time, it looked like you wanted to stay awake. 

Max kept talking to you. 

Told you about the race. 

“Kid, it was like you were flying.” 

“Oscar still kept P1, but you totally passed Lando.”

“Keep your eyes open kid. You can sleep later. Let me tell you about how Charles pushed me off.” 

You were finally conscious enough to understand what Max was saying. A squawk from Charles made you laugh a bit. Your lungs burned and protested, but you did it anyway. 

Max rested his head against the wall when you were finally moving around and talking to the medics. They finally deemed you strong enough to get you into a chair instead of the floor. The Dutchman was quick to keep the towels around your head soaking with ice cold water. Your race suit had been completely stripped away. Your shoes and socks were off as well, leaving you in thin fireproofs. Max took a longer towel and put it over your lap. 

A hand rested on Max’s shoulder, which caused him to look up. Christian stared back at him with a cold gaze. The blond knew what that meant. The Briton led Max a bit away so that he could talk to him in private. 

Max wanted to question him, but it seems as though Christian already knew what he wanted to say. 

“Next year we aren’t going to let you or Y/n drive if Qatar is back on the calendar.” 

Max was somber as he mulled over the statement. It was actually a good idea.

He replied, “I of course was fine with that. We should get the other teams to do it as well.” 

Christian nodded. 

“We had five retirements during the race. It was Sargeant, Zhou, Albon, Gasly, and Russell.” 

Max hadn’t known. He was too busy just trying to also stay conscious during the race. Yes, it was cooler than last year, but the cars seemed to get hotter as well. It was a fraction that couldn’t be balanced. 

Christian sighed. “Lance also had to be helped out of the car. He was taken to medical as well. Severe dehydration.” 

Max considered the protest. If everything went smoothly like this year, he could have already won the championship by now. He was still ahead of Charles. Abu Dhabi wouldn’t be a deciding factor. The Dutchman would have to finish in last place to lose. The margin was big enough. But, the race would be the deciding factor if you’d finish ahead of Charles in the championship. You’d have to win the race and get fastest lap. Charles would need to finish second with fastest lap to come out ahead of you. 

While he was thinking, two flashes of papaya orange almost ran into him. His head swerved to follow the two drivers as they sank to their knees in front of you, where you were still looking pretty exhausted. 

He said his goodbyes to Christian and walked over as well. Lando was latched rather tightly to your side as Oscar ran his hands over your face, double checking that you were still breathing. He hadn’t noticed that Arthur was now the one rewetting the towels on your body. Logan was sitting on the floor to your left.

He walked over and stood next to Charles. A smile made its way to his face at the sight of the younger drivers all taking care of you. His phone was buzzing like crazy. He pulled it out and made a face at all the missed text messages. The second grid group chat, one that not everyone was in, was blowing up. 

He sent a quick message telling everyone that you were ok and that they were allowed to come to your hotel room if you wanted to. 

Lewis said he was going to bring food with George. Daniel was on his way to get your room set up. The Aussie has seen heat exhaustion before and wanted to get the room cooling down before you even got there. Fernando messaged that he was going to get some cars ready to take them all back. He chose SUVs that had sufficient space for everyone. 

Max thanked them before closing his phone. 

When he saw your eyes flutter, his heart didn’t race. He knew that you had to be utterly exhausted by now. 

He stepped toward your physio and one of the medics. 

“Is she good to go?” he questioned, getting the attention of the two ladies. 

Your physio nodded. “She’s good. Just keep her cool and hydrated. Water and juice are preferred. Also, let her eat substantial things to get her weight back up. I know she likes McDonalds after races some times.” 

The lady smiled, remembering how many times you texted her asking if you could get chicken nuggets from your favorite fast food restaurant. After getting a list of things that they needed to do to make sure that you’d be just fine through the night, he walked back over to the group. Your eyes were very droopy as Lando talked to you about Quadrant’s latest drop of merchandise. 

He clapped his hands lightly, making everyone look his way. 

“Ok, so she is good to go. Fernando is waiting with the cars. Daniel went back to the room to cool it down and ask for extra pillows and blankets for anyone who wants to stay. Y/n you have to be monitored for the next 48 hours just in case. George is making Lewis buy chicken nuggets from McDonalds. And now we just have to get everything and head back.” 

Max could be a group leader when he wanted to be. 

Charles and Logan went back to your driver rooms to grab everything that you might need and or want. Lando and Oscar took it upon themselves to go around to the garages to let everyone know where they were going to be for the next couple of days. 

Arthur stayed with you while you had your IV removed, him letting you almost break his hand as it left your arm. You looked a bit nauseated at the sight, which made Max stand next to your seat to steady you. 

“Is it over?” you asked, voice hoarse from everything. Max thinks that’s the loudest you spoken since the race. 

Arthur gave a quick kiss to your head. “All over Cheri. You ready to go?” 

With a nod from you, the Monegasque crouched down to scoop you up. Your head rested against his chest as he and Max made the way to the car. 

“Max, can you ask Lewis to get me a sweet tea as well?” 

“On it kid.” 

Well, Max had already made sure that Lewis would get your favorite drink as well, along with fries and every type of sauce you could ever want. 

You hummed a thank you as you leaned your face against the cool window of the car. Fernando was in the front seat, classical music playing in the background. At that moment, you realized that your skin had goosebumps and you were shivering slightly. Your fire proofs were basically soaked and the air conditioning was cooling it down quickly. 

“Thur, do you have a hoodie or pull over?” 

The question made Max and Arthur raise an eyebrow. But the moment they saw you shaking like a leaf, they quickly looked for one. Logan pulled the passenger door open and sat in it. 

“Logan do you have a pull over or something?” Max asked once he realized that he nor Arthur had anything to cover you up. 

The American was silent as he leaned forward to dig through his back. 

“Aha!” 

Something fuzzy was put into your hands. Arthur noticed that your hands were still shaking and took the pullover from you. He immediately got it unraveled and put over your head, tugging down at the sides. A sigh escaped your lips as you relished in the warmth it brought. 

“Thanks Lo.” 

“No problem champ.” 

Arthur snorted. “So American.” 

Logan swerved around as Fernando started to pull away. 

“Well, no offense to Max, but Y/n is definitely going to be world champion one day. It’s only a matter of time.” 

Max shook his head. “No offense taken if we all think it.” 

“Thanks guys,” you muttered, head back against the window, eyes closed and close to sleep. Your boyfriend poked your arm, making you give him an astronomical side eye. He rolled his eyes at your glare. 

“You can sleep after you eat.” 

A grumble escaped your stomach, making everyone in the car laugh. 

“It wants chicken nuggets.” 

“Chicken nuggets is what it’ll get niña,” Fernando said from the front. The drive to the hotel was not long at all. This time, Arthur carried the stuff and Max carried you. Although, you did complain that you could have walked, but he didn’t want to take any chances. 

When the four of you got to your room, Daniel was ready with open arms to take you from Max. Daniel was always more cuddly anyway and you wanted to keep being warm. The room was pretty frigid but you liked the contrast of a cold room with a warm blanket. 

Lewis and George were in the little kitchenette pulling food out from the iconic brown bags. 

A shiver wracked your body which made you realize that you desperately needed to change.

“Arthur, can you grab my clothes from my suitcase? I want to change.” 

As the dutiful boyfriend, Arthur grabbed a pair of sweats, one of his pullovers, and the undergarments that you needed. He took you from Daniel and brought you into the bathroom for some privacy. You used the sink to keep steady as you stood. The Monegasque had a sad smile as he watched you try to use your legs that were shaking even more. 

You took one step and your knees collapsed. Thankfully, he was there to catch you. He cooed when you pouted once you were seated on the toilet. He was very respectful and kept his eyes on your face as he helped you change. You rolled your eyes. 

“You’ve seen me naked before,” you spoke quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear. 

This time, he rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but it was for something very different.” 

You could hear the smirk in his statement. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Race wins are very rewarding.” 

He gave you a quick kiss after he pulled the crewneck over your head. When the two of you finally emerged, the rest of the boys were already there and changed. Max and Charles were on the pullout eating what looked to be some burgers. 

Lewis was stabbing a salad as he talked to Daniel and Fernando. Your eyes lit up at the sight of the 20 piece nugget that was sitting on the counter. With Arthur’s help, you were able to take very small steps to get your own food. Lando and Oscar watched from the side as you got your hands on the container. Arthur then helped you over to the couch and sat you next to Max. He went to go get drinks and sat down on the other side of you. 

It was a Leclerc brother sandwich. 

You took a sip of your drink and grabbed the remote. 

“What are we watching.” 

Oscar piped up. “Please not Cars 2. And a pout won’t work this time.” 

“Certified Y/n-hater.” 

The Aussie laughed, but continued to let you pick a movie. 

You smirked as you selected one of your other favorites. 

“Black. All important movies start with a black screen.” 

“You did not choose Lego Batman.” 

“I chose Lego Batman.”   

mclaren has posted

mclaren congratulations to Oscar on his first win and to Lando for bringing in a 1-3! 🧡🐈

We are saddened to hear that Y/n L/n had to be transported to the on-site medical center tonight after severe heat exhaustion and could not make it to the podium. Thankfully, she is on the mend and will race in Abu Dhabi for the final Formula 1 race of the 2024 season.

liked by logansargeant, papaya_nation, oscAH, and 2,395,104 others

papaya_on_top OSCAR WIN - BUT Y/N I WAS CRYING

orange_bois i was so scared watching them haul her out of the car

y/n.89 can't get rid of me that easily 😤

landonorris dang it, thought I could get one more win in oscarpiastri don't listen to him, he was crying while he typed this landonorris YOU WERE TOO????

iamred_iamyellow oh gosh, I thought last year was bad

russellgeorge someone needs to get a protest started, this was too much

lanoscar proud of my boys, scared for everyone else

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing good P2 and P4 today 👊

Y/n L/n is currently recovering back at her hotel and will be monitored through the night. She has been cleared to race in Abu Dhabi if she continues to feel better. She was diagnosed with severe heat exhaustion that could have turned into a heat stroke if she wasn't treated immediately. Heatstroke is deadly if not treated immediately after the symptoms show up. We are thankful for Max, who alerted the team that something was wrong.

Because of this matter with our youngest driver, Red Bull Racing encourages the other teams to put in a protest of the Qatar Grand Prix. This year, five drivers had to retire due to health issues and two were hospitalized. Lance recovered quickly from severe dehydration. If the Qatar Grand Prix continues, our drivers will not race in 2025 at this circuit. Thank you.

liked by arthur_leclerc, y/n.89, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll, and 3,149,460 others

y/n.nation please, fans as well, start protesting and don't buy tickets for Qatar 2025. something is obviously wrong

formula_fan the cars are too hot for this circuit. they have no internal cooling and the drivers are so susceptible to the heat

y/n.89 thank you so much for taking care of me! I will be ready for Abu Dhabi!

redbullracing we missed seeing you on the podium 🥺 y/n.89 I'll be back!!

landonorris max is the man - what do we say?

charles_leclerc thank you max oscarpiastri is that how you thank the man that saved your future sister-in-law??? 🤨 charles_leclerc THANK YOU MAX 🥰😙🥹🫶 maxverstappen1 you're welcome Charles ☺️ charles_leclerc I will still punt you

rookie&co I'm thankful that Red Bull is taking the initiative about this

scuderiaferrari at ferrari, we put our drivers above everything else. we will be protesting along with Red Bull and whoever else and will not take part in the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix if it is still approved

williamsracing we will stand along with Red Bull and will not race at the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix if it continues mercedeamgf1 our drivers before the race, we stand as one. we will not partake in the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix mclaren after tonight, we see where priorities lie. we race as one. McLaren will not partake in the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix astonmartinf1 we race as one. we will be protesting the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix alpinef1team we will be joining the grid in the protest of the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix visacashapprb teams should never have to choose between a driver's health and a completed race. we will protest the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix haasf1team we will be participating in the Qatar 2025 protest for our drivers stakef1team our drivers will not be participating in the Qatar 2025 Grand Prix if it is held in the upcoming year

formula14ever the way that all the teams have gathered together after what happened with Y/n

wholesomef1 this comment section >>>>

seb&bees Sebastian would be so proud for all the teams and drivers standing up for this cause

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[sixosix]

can i go where you go? | kaedehara kazuha

warnings 2.2k words, lots of kissing… like srsly, pure fluff, kazuha is a cutie, not a slick cutie though, friends to lovers!!

or, three times Kazuha keeps kissing you on ‘accident’.

The first time Kazuha kissed you, it was on Beidou’s ship.

You're only partially awake, your eyelids heavy, and you move with a slow, languid pace as Kazuha escorts you towards The Alcor. The wind hums as it caresses the sails, accompanied by the lively shouts and cheers of the crew on board.

“So early,” you mutter, sighing. “Too early. Sun isn’t even out yet.”

“It will be, soon,” Kazuha says, smiling at you in the same way that he always does. Tender, as comforting as the ocean pooling on your feet as you walk by the shore. “You mentioned you wanted to meet the Captain, didn’t you? Tilt your head a little.” Although he says it, his finger comes to your chin and gently directs your gaze himself.

He’s gesturing to the woman standing at the quarterdeck, her hands resting on her hips and her shoulders remarkably broad. She turns as if hearing Kazuha’s soft voice amidst the boisterous chatter. Your jaw goes slack in awe, excitement washing away the last traces of fatigue tugging your bones as everything you’ve heard about Captain Beidou from Kazuha comes rushing back.

Kazuha steadies you with a hand on the small of your back as your knees falter when climbing the ship.

“Captain Beidou!” You bow deeply, lowering your head to your waist, arms outstretched to offer her the sake and the sakura mochi you made the night before—which cost you sleep, but it is worth more than anything when you get to gift the woman who took care of your best friend when you couldn’t. “Thank you so much for letting me tag along. Please take this.”

Kazuha and Beidou glance at each other in surprise.

Kazuha starts, “You didn’t have—”

“No,” you say, firm. “This is the least I can do. Don’t try, Kazuha.”

Kazuha’s expression eases to a smile. “Alright.”

“I like this one, Kazuha,” Beidou says, ruffling your hair, and leaving stray strands on your head. She grins at you, all wide and wild. “Where’s he been hiding ya, huh, kid?”

“Somewhere in Inazuma.”

She laughs; it sounds like the roaring waves of the ocean. “Thank you. I’ll share it with my crew.” She turns, looking at you over her shoulder. You feel the hair on your arms rise to attention. “Let me know if you need anything, but Kazuha probably will see to it faster than any of us could.”

You’re not exactly sure what she means, though you can pick up on the knowing smirk she throws at your best friend.

“Men, to your posts!” she orders. Kazuha takes it as a cue to take your hand and lead you somewhere far more secluded.

No one’s watching; at least, not to your knowledge. The crew knows well enough they have their own business to attend to, and that no one should be interrupting Kaedehara Kazuha when catching up with his best friend since childhood, you.

Kazuha is a wanderer first and foremost. He does not like to be tied down to one place—he’d itch and wander off if you try to keep him at bay. However, there is one exception; one that has him visiting his homeland whenever he can, even when he is dangerously most sought after. When the wind subsides to a gentle whisper in his ears, the waves are gentle when splashing against the ship, and the crew is fast asleep, Kazuha finds himself stealing glances in the general direction of Inazuma. He knows you’re likely sleeping soundly there, expecting him.

This is what gets him to bring home whatever he may find along the way just to give them to you. If anyone asks, Kazuha would reply with a vague: “For someone special to me, in my land of birth.” Anyone would have guessed that, though, given the assortment of flowers Kazuha never fails to bring home.

You find yourself swaying back and forth along with the ship, your mouth running miles per minute as you talk to him on and on about how you’ve never been to Liyue before and your hands are shaking from excitement—or perhaps nerves, and how is Kazuha looking so calm and why is he smiling at you weirdly?

Kazuha has that fond look in the crinkle of his eyes. “Are you certain you’re not feeling sick? Lightheaded?”

Although the heavy rocking of the ship is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, you only feel the anticipation. Thrill. You’ve seen glimpses of Liyue from the letters Kazuha sends; you’re positive nothing can compare to the real deal, and that is what has you giddy, kicking your legs against the wood.

The early morning air crept beneath your clothes and left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shudder; Kazuha leans against you, the warmth of his body relaxing you immediately.

The world falls completely silent as you gaze at him.

“Kazuha,” you breathe out, eyes round with wonder, “thank you for taking me with you.” Kazuha goes still as you brush a stray of hair away from your face a little shyly. “It probably doesn’t mean much because you’re always traveling, and it’s probably such a hassle to be my tour guide, but I’m—mmph.”

The rest of your words are swallowed by Kazuha’s lips, and you, undoubtedly silenced by the press of his soft lips against yours. You have your eyes wide open, frozen as you watch the sunrise from the horizon over Kazuha’s shoulder, casting him an unreal golden glow.

Kazuha quickly pulls back and looks as startled as you feel. The kiss was about half a second, and it took nearly a minute for the both of you to process what had just happened.

He frowns, though it doesn’t feel directed at you. “Sorry,” he says slowly, as though he’s just been brought back up from underwater. “That was—”

“It’s fine,” you blurt, hoping the sunrise would disguise your stunned expression. “The ship—uh, it’s swaying pretty hard. You probably lost balance or something.” However, speaking it aloud sounds wrong. Kazuha just doesn’t lose balance: he’s the most seasoned samurai you’ve met in your life.

Then again, that would leave an empty room of explanation, one of which you’d rather not set foot in.

“Yes.” The sunrise has Kazuha looking a little pink. Or should it be orange? “Allow me to fetch us a bottle of water. You might get seasick.”

“Sure,” you murmur, though it’s lost to the howl of the wind as Kazuha swiftly jumps down, his Vision glowing on his back. The sensation in your stomach doesn’t seem like seasickness.

He doesn’t talk about it, so you don’t bring it up.

The second time happens in public.

The moment you set foot in Liyue Harbor, Kazuha realizes he must reach for your wrist to prevent you from straying and getting lost. You dart from one corner to the next, exploring every stall, even stray dogs and running children.

“Liyue feels so…warm.”

It could be the orange glow of their lights, painting over the region with an unbeatable shade and atmosphere, perfectly replicating what it would be like sitting across a fireplace. Or it could be Kazuha’s hand intertwined with yours.

“Hearing that relieves me,” Kazuha admits, pulling you to the side as two men pushing crates on wheels rush past. “You are often unpredictable in what you like and dislike.”

You laugh, “Were you worried that you overhyped it? You tend to be descriptive with what you write back to me—what was it? The flavorful aroma coming from street vendors, the squeals of youth whistling past, the seagulls, and the waves of the ocean audible even amidst the bustling crowds… I can see it.”

“You remember all of that?” Kazuha looks adorable when bashful.

The sun is already at its highest peak. Sweat has started to form around your hairline; Kazuha had to buy you popsicles, which you got from the Wanmin Restaurant. The popsicle is entirely blue, nearly translucent, and tastes like eating just ice, but it effectively cools you down. Kazuha doesn’t appear bothered by the heat in the slightest, going as far as to insist on carrying all the souvenirs you’ve been purchasing.

He has only one arm full, though. The other is free and linked with yours.

“You didn’t tell me one important thing, though,” you say.

Kazuha blinks once, then furrows his brows. “What is it?” He looks sincerely worried.

“You didn’t tell me you’re famous,” you tease, nudging a red-faced Kazuha with your elbow. “Oh, it’s Kaedehara, you’re back! And here I thought you were like a celebrity in Inazuma. You might just be well-loved everywhere.” Well, who could blame them? You’re no better than the people of Teyvat.

He shakes his head. “Far from it,” he insists, ever the modest guy. “I just happen to be caught up with The Crux.”

“Those ladies seem to disagree. They were trying to impress you, you know.”

Kazuha shifts uncomfortably, his face a funny shade of pink. “I did not pay close enough attention. I apologize.”

A laugh escapes you, in disbelief. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“I did not realize you were the jealous type.”

You gawk at his words, spinning around to see that a hint of something smug playing on his lips. “That’s not—You… shut up. I’m not.”

Kazuha opens his mouth to say something stupid to fluster you probably, but you’re quicker. You retrieve a container wrapped in plastic, its surface moist from the steam within. Kazuha falls silent, his watchful gaze fixed on you as you unwrap it, his nose undoubtedly detecting a familiar and enticing aroma.

“This is…” Kazuha picks one stick up and observes it. “Mondstadt Grilled Fish.”

“Yes,” you say, grinning proudly. “One of your favorites. You sent me the recipe last year, remember? Kept practicing it for this moment.”

But Kazuha’s heavy gaze is not on the food, but on you, an unreadable emotion clouding his eyes. The tension disappears when he smiles and takes a bite. You watch him enjoy his food in peace, belatedly deciding to do the same. You know you did good but Kazuha didn’t have to look like he’s in bliss, eyes closed and everything.

“Thank you,” he says. “You keep surprising me. This was meant to be a day for you.”

“You here with me is enough to make all my days,” you say, mouth full of fish grilled to perfection. Embarrassingly enough, there are crumbs that spew out. You take another big bite, crumbs of it sticking to the sides of your mouth.

You must look a little stupid, tucked in some corner of Liyue, standing next to Kazuha and eating grilled fish silently.

Your field of vision is abruptly engulfed by Kazuha's face. You have barely time to react, your body falling still as your attention is swallowed by the red of his eyes, which are focused on your mouth. You feel warmth press against the side of your mouth, your heart leaping to your throat at the sensation.

“Sorry,” he says, not looking at all sorry. “You had crumbs on your face.” Which does not explain why he has to kiss it off, but it was at this moment that you understand. Kazuha doesn’t lose balance and doesn’t do anything by mistake.

The dam crumbles.

The third happens when the night is creeping in on your first day, in some inn you didn’t bother looking at, too caught up in the way Kazuha is grinning at you in his own Kazuha-way: all soft and sweet.

“I can’t… believe—how long?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” he murmurs, closing the door behind you. “It wasn’t a grand revelation that happened one night. It just felt as if it was the only explanation.” His eyes flicker to you, keeping your faces close enough to where your noses are touching. He’s waiting for an answer.

“I had a crush on you the moment we met,” you confess, face hot. “And then it never went away, even when you had to leave. Distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.”

Kazuha’s smile tips on something a little more sly. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, then.”

Years and years of longing for Kazuha, rereading each and every one of his letters, and cherishing every second of when he comes to visit—all of it’s more than worth it if it led you here, in a secluded room, sharing hushed whispers with the boy you’ve wanted all your life.

“So… what are we—”

You’re rudely interrupted by Kazuha pecking your lips.

You frown. “Hey, wait, I’m—mmph—trying to—Kazuha!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he tugs you to his chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry,” he murmurs again, but he’s leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw, smiling against your skin as you shiver.

“It’s okay,” you whisper in the quiet of the night, in the steady silence occasionally broken by the beating of your hearts. “It was an accident.”

“Mm,” he hums, nodding. “An accident.”

You stare at each other for a pregnant pause.

“This one isn’t, though,” Kazuha says and dives in for a kiss that leaves you breathless, years and years of buried feelings pouring over.

this was supposed to be for kazuha’s bday but i couldn't finish it in time :(!!! belated happy birthday to the greenest flag ever <3

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha fluff #kazuha fluff #genshin fluff

[m2ok]

Golden Salvation Pt.2

pt. 1

cowboy!Ghost x m! reader

A/N: There will be one more part to this just to wrap everything up :)

Your pulse thundered in your ears as the stranger loomed closer, hand gripping lethal iron at his hip. Fight or flight instincts kicked into overdrive - this was no ordinary burglary; you could see it etched in every predatory line of his body.  

This man had come for blood, your blood.  

Slowly, you raised your hands in a gesture of peace even as your mind raced. One wrong move and you’d be pushing up daisies come morn. These were the dark shadows Simon lived in, the enemies he’d made through his notorious work. And now they were coming for him...through you.  

.“Don’t want no trouble, mister,” you said, keeping your tone calm and even like you didn't know why this man was here. As if there could be any other reason for someone to break into a home as dingy as your own. “Just a simple bartender is all – barely got a dollar to my name”  

This snake didn't need to know how deep your bond with Simon went, especially since hiding your relationship was the only way you could see to get out of this situation.  

The man cackled at your words, rolling his eyes as the smile dropped and he stalked closer to the bed, aiming the gun at you as he cocked it back with a sickening crack.  

“ Mhm... as if you weren't all nice and cozied up to him not mere hours ago – ya really think im gonna believe you?” He gave you a mocking grin 

 “No no im not stupid sweetheart. Im not here to collect any of his debts from you – I care more about the eight men o’ mine your Ghostie killed. Those boys were my family, he didnt think twice about that though when he shot em’ dead where they stood. Figure I should make him feel the same hurt I do, hm?”  

“You won’t hurt him none-” You tried to reason “His heart don't belong to me, he won’t spare a second glance past this cabin. Hell, He's probably halfway across the desert by now” Your voice was shaky as you spoke, lies seeping through your lips at the risk of your life. You knew what you meant to Simon, no one else was able to get into his space as you did- at least not if they wanted to walk away with their life.  

The man's smirk dropped, new anger burning in his eyes as the grip on his gun tightened, “I saw the way that mongrel looked at you, you’re his boy and that's clearer than any mountain river” he scoffed, finger moving from the side of the gun to rest on the trigger.  

You closed your eyes, praying in your head, but not to any god. No, your prayers were aiming for Simon's rescue, praying that he would somehow know you were in trouble and come rescue you from it. 

Simon sat astride his horse on a dusty ridge, watching the moon rise silver over the desert wastes. A half-smoked cigarette dangled idly from his lips; he’d been nursing the same thoughts over and over since dusk fell heavy as a shroud across the badlands.  

 Thoughts of you.  

Somewhere deep in his gut, an uneasy feeling roiled. Like an invisible string tugging at his soul, trying to tug him back the way he came. Simon growled low in his throat, frustrated with his own foolish longings. You’d made your stance clear – this life wasn’t for you, not truly. And he had no right to ask you to join him.  

And yet... 

A crack suddenly split the still night air. So faint and far that any lesser man may have missed it entirely, but not Simon.  

In an instant he was vaulting onto his horse’s back, boots pounding twin paths in the dirt as they flew towards the distant lights of your little town. Another shot rang out, louder now, and Simon’s blood turned to ice in his veins.  

He knew that sound – deep in his bones he knew something was horribly wrong.  

Choking the reins in a near stranglehold, Simon rode as if all the demons of hell were nipping at his horse’s hooves. Towards you. Towards salvation or damnation, he did not know. But by God, no son of a bitch was gonna harm one hair on your head if he could still help it.  

Help was coming- you just had to hold on.  

The man fired the gun, a sharp sting hitting your side before it blossomed into agonizing pain. You let out a pained cry, one hand instinctively going to land on your wound while the other covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. Your hand was soon coated in dark crimson, entire body shaking with adrenaline as the man cocked the gun once more.  

“Was gonna just end you, but I figured I should make this painful the same way he did. Should fill you with so many bullets he won’t be able to recognize you” he hissed, aiming the gun at your other side.  

Simon was little more than a blur of dust and primal fury as he crashed through the remains of your splintered front door. For a split second, time seemed to freeze – taking in the scene with a single, piercing gaze.  

You,curled onto the bed clutching a bloody wound. And him. That snake. Gun pressed sickeningly against your body as he spewed his venomous threats. With an almost guttural roar, Simon’s Colt leapt into his hand like it was part of his very being. Two blooming shots rang as one; his aim was true as bible scripture.  

The intruder pitched backwards, scarlets blossoms exploding from where his eyes once were. He was dead before he hit the floor.  

But Simon saw none of it. Already he was at your side, tatty serape ripped and pressed desperately against your weeping injury. Brown eyes wild and scared met your own, and for a moment the steely outlaw facade slipped entirely.  

“Darlin’...” he choked, voice thick. “Talk to me, baby. Stay with me now, ya hear?” Working frantically to stem the flood, Simon tangled scarred fingers gently through your hair, anchoring you to this world with his touch alone. 

“That’s it…keep breathin’, just keep breathin’” His voice dissolved into ragged prayers mere ghosts could hear. Help was still minutes away - but for now, you had Ghost. And he’d be damned before he let the reaper take you from him. 

You were sobbing, your brain mangled with confusion and fear as the adrenaline ran out and the full pain of the bullet lodged in your abdomen had you reeling, 

Red painted everything around you, hands, clothes, and sheets underneath you drenched in it. 

“Simon-” you rasped, breathing labored as you looked around with wide eyes at the gruesome scene in front of you. It was too much, you could feel your head going light- brain fuzzy and ears ringing as you fought not to close your eyes. 

“It hurts” you choked, trying to shove his hand away from where he was pressing down on the wound to stop the torrent of blood flowing out. “Simon I cant-” you said, throat raw from the sobs that came out. 

You wanted so badly to stay with him, to be able to wake up tomorrow with him, but you didn’t know if you’d get that with the way you felt your strength leave your body.

“It hurts- it hurts” You were almost begging, for what you didn’t know. You just wanted the pain to go away. 

You were terrified- not ready to die yet, and especially not like this, not when you had so much left to do. The thought alone sent a new set of tears streaming down your face, hand shaking- clutching the bleeding wound on top of Simon’s own to try and ebb the pain that burrowed deep in your skin. 

Simon felt his world crumbling as your agonized crimes tore through him, sharper than any bullet ever could. Seeing you in such anguish ripped open a fissure in his battered heart, letting the demons of his deepest guilt and self-loathing spill forth in a torrent. 

“I know, baby, I know it hurts…” he choked, pressing you close as if trying in vain to absorb your pain into himself. His own broad shoulders shook with ghosts of rage and grief, tears cutting rivulets through the dirt caked on his cheeks. 

Goddamn it all, he should’ve been here. Should have followed his instincts and never left your side. Now it may be too late to hope for forgiveness, your blood staining his hands a brand of failure he could never outrun. 

“Please, darlin’, please hold on…’ Simon begged, voice breaking as he spoke. His bandana was wrung out and useless now - in desperation he moved to cradle you fully, applying trembling pressure with his bare hands and what remained of his coat. 

Distantly he heard the clatter of the approaching horses, but paid them no heed. You were fading, slipping away before his eyes, and all the strength and guns in the world couldn’t stop it. 

“Don’t ye leave me now…I can’t do this world without ya…” A broken whisper, barely audible above the thunder in his ears. Simon pressed his forehead to yours, sharing the same ragged breaths, two souls more tangled than any root or vine. Hanging on a blade’s edge against the dark. 

You stared up into Simon's eyes, eyebrows cinched in pain and eyes soaked with fear. 

“I don’t wanna die, Simon” you whispered, voice shaky as you clung to him - like he alone could save you from this fate. 

You could feel your heartbeat slowing, breathing ragged as you gasped for air that just wouldn’t enter your lungs….

Soon enough the doctor burst into the room, medical kit in hand as he came barreling over to you. He very carefully took you out of Simon’s arm with some convincing, to lay you back on the bed before he opened up his kit. 

He handed you a flask filled with whiskey “You’re gonna want to drink this - it’ll help ease the pain” He said. 

With shaky hands you drank the bottle, a scream ripping from your lungs as the man began to carefully dig into the wound, grabbing hold of the bullet with sterile tweezers before carefully pulling it free. 

With practiced care he cleaned the wound, a harsh whimper leaving your lips at the sting of pain before the wound was stitched up and bandaged. 

You were shaking, sobbing so hard your throat was raw and your lungs burned - the pain was unbearable and a large part of you wished you could just die to get away from it. 

The doctor had you drink another flask, the alcohol numbing the pain receptors in your brain just enough to allow you to fall into a light sleep. 

Simon sat vigil at your bedside through what felt like hours, not letting go of your limp hand once. Your cries of pain echoing loud and endlessly in his mind, driving spikes of pure anguish deep into his soul.

He watched in heavy silence as the doctor worked, breath caught tight in his chest, hardly daring to hope. But then - your ragged breaths evened out, color returning sluggishly to waxen cheeks. Alive. You were alive. 

It was nearly two hours later when the man was done, wiping his hands on a rag as he stood up on shaky legs. 

“He’s stable” The doctor said simply

Choking back sobs of relief, Simon buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of gratitude-laced kisses amongst salty tears. “That’s it, darlin’...you fight. Got too much left to do in this world.” he’d whisper to you, voice so soft only you could hear

 “Most important thing now is cleaning that wound twice a day lest it get infected. If it does…” The doctor ordered, his words trialing off though his intentions were clear. He put down a set of bandages and cleaning solution on the nightstand for Simon’s use. 

“It’ll take a long time to heal, I reckon” The doctor said “but my work is done here, y’all know where to reach me should he take a turn for the worst” He said, tilting his hat to Simon before he gathered his tools and headed out of the shabby cabin. 

Simon took the doctor's words as gospel, nodding along to every word before the man left. He spent the next few hours cleaning up the mess that was now your little home. He dragged the body out back to deal with fully in the morning, cleaned your sheets and changed you into new clothes, boarded up the broken window, and finished by fixing the door that he had come barging through. 

His own hands were gentle as churches doing their appointed duty, cleansing and dressing the angry wound each time without fail. Whatever it took to coax your stubborn spirit back to the land of the living. 

Days bled into each other without notice. All that mattered to him now was you. And slowly, so slowly - full color seeped back, fever broke its hold. Eyes fluttered open to meet his own once more, full of pain but oh-so-blessedly alive. 

“Hey there, sunshine…” Simon whispered hoarsely, like a parched man dying of thirst at an oasis. Finally, finally, he allowed himself the ghost of a weary smile. 

You were going to be alright. And by God, he’d spend his last days making sure of it. 

You slowly sat up, a soft whine leaving your lips with the movements as you aggravated the still raw wound. “Simon” you mumbled as you held his hand, reaching over to take a swig of the whiskey on the nightstand to ease the searing pain. 

You rested your head back against the pillows with a soft sigh. It had been a few days now, and the pain was still a dull yet constant ache in your side. 

You took the sight around you in, everything was clean and neat including your bedding and clothes. Even the floor had been mopped, the only reminders of your near death being the hole in your side. 

“Simon you did all this?” You asked simply, eyes wide as you gazed up at him. 

Simon huffed a soft, weary laugh at your question, gently squeezing your hand just to make sure you were really here and he wasn’t hallucinating. 

“Course I did, darlin’. Weren’t about to let ya recover in filth,” He replied gruffly. Truth be told, tending to your every need had been the other thing keeping his demons at bay these long days and nights. 

Keeping busy spared him time to think - and thinking led down paths too bleak to tread. Like how terrifyingly close he’d come to losing you forever.

Holding your gaze with quiet intent, Simon softly brushed calloused knuckles along your cheek “Reckon it’s about time i started pullin’ my weight ‘round here proper. Ain’t no safe place for ya out here alone” A question lingered in the subtle quirk of his brow, the hopeful yet wary gleam in tired eyes. After all that had passed between you both, was there still room for him at your side? A Ghost finally ready to lay his soul to rest, if you’d have him. 

You could only hum softly at his words, sleep still filled in your bones. You didn’t answer him, instead you patted the empty side of the bed “Come sleep next to me, Si. You need the sleep” You said, your words a silent confirmation that you still wanted him. 

Simon gave a soft grunt of approval, too weary in body and soul to do anything but obey your gentle prompting. Careful not to jostle your healing injury, he stretched his long limbs out beside you with a satisfied sigh. 

It felt strange but right, sharing your space in such an intimate way after so long living apart. Like the final piece of a puzzle slipped neatly into place. 

Turning his head, Simon watched you watch him through half-lidded eyes, drinking in every beloved feature as if to confirm this wasn’t some whiskey-fueled dream. Reaching out, he lightly touched the graceful curve of your cheek before letting his hand come to rest against the steady rise and fall of your chest. 

“Sweetest sound there is,” he murmured, voice sleep-roughed and thick with meaning. A tousled head tucked itself beneath your chin with a contented sigh, tension seeping from tense muscles. 

Come what may with the light of dawn, for now all was peaceful. You were alive, you were safe. And against all odds, Simon had finally come home to roost. 

You held him close in your arms, gentle fingers carding through thick hair as you let his head rest against your now steady heartbeat. He needed the comfort, you could tell, and you were more than happy to give it to him. 

“Rest now, Si. I'm not going anywhere. Can’t get rid of me that easy” You assured, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

It was a funny thing, holding such a toughened man in your arms, keeping him close and coddled despite the almost laughable size difference. 

SImon made a low sound of gratitude at your soft reassurance, melting bonelessly into your gentle embrace. Your gentle fingers winding through his hair brought forth a wave of lethargy he’d fought to stave off this long week past. But no more - here in your arms, he was finally allowed to let his guard down. 

It still struck him sometimes how two souls so disparate could fit together so seamlessly. But you’d always had a way of easing even his most ragged edges, soothing demons he thought long beyond taming. Lithe as you were in your current state, your strength ran deeper than any show of force ever could - and he found solace there like nowhere else. 

“Missed this…” he mumbled, so soft it was barely audible even in the stillness enclosing your little world. One arm curled protectively around your middle, thumb brushing idle patterns against the slowly healing wound beneath the bandages. 

A prayer of thanks on parched lips, Simon let weary eyes slide shut. Sleep rose like a gentle tide, carrying him off to oblivion sheltered in the piece of heaven he’d begun to call home. You’d brought him back from the brink of darkness once more, anchor in the storm. And for that, he was eternally grateful. 

#cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod imagine #cod x male reader #male reader #fanfic #ghost cod #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x male reader

[jackandspaghetti]

not a vacation. (jack hughes x female reader, smut)

summary: they just wanted to get freaky w no distractions, life is hard. and jack has been too, so these two goofies needed some satisfaction! they figured a hotel was the way to do it. dont ask me, im just the messenger. this was written via divine inspiration.

warnings: sex (p in v) unprotected (assume bc), praise, idk man this is my first time im a virgin to writing smut

other notes: random context, i think Y/N is in college for this and also she is living w jack. its a fic bae don't read into all that too much

wc: 3k

Y/N and Jack are finally on vacation. Well, it’s only for a couple nights, and they do not have plans to do anything. They really just wanted to get away. With all of Jack’s hockey stuff finally done for the season, and with Y/N’s academic year having come to a close, they just needed a break.

Originally, they were just going to spend time together at their own house. They do it all the time, and they certainly enjoy it, but that did not feel like enough of a reset. Their families could still show up at their door at any moment, or even solicitors were enough to ruin their peace in each other’s company. So, they decided they would go to a random town not too far away and stay a few nights in a hotel. Somewhere that their families would not find them. Somewhere quiet. With few tourists. A place where there would be little noise to distract them, and few people to be distracted by the noise they would inevitably make together.

Anyway, this was not really a vacation. It was a desperate retreat to a place where Y/N and Jack could just immerse themselves in each other with no consequences or disruptions. Neither one even plans to leave the hotel for any reason except to quickly grab food or to stop at a convenience store.

The two check into their single-bed hotel room, a pretty nice one thanks to Jack’s being famous and everything. Neither one has brought many clothes. They don’t anticipate wearing them very often. The couple wastes no time in racing to their room for some privacy.

The minute they walk into their home for the next few days, Y/N throws her bags down and puts the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door handle. Then she locks the door and spins on her heels to face Jack. They both seem to let out a breath of relief. They have both been terribly horny for days. Not that they haven’t had sex in those days, but their desire just keeps returning. They can’t seem to get a break from it for any longer than Jack’s refractory period. So here they stand, in utter silence, staring at each other with hungry eyes in their new little hideaway. Each one waiting to see if the other will make a move.

Suddenly, Jack lunges at Y/N and wraps her up in a passionate, sensual kiss. He is breathing heavily into her mouth and already sounding like a hungry man who will do anything for a bite.

“Ohhhh Y/N,” he’s kissing her deeply. At some point, he picks her up, because now he’s carrying her and pushing her onto the neatly made hotel bed.

She immediately responds, moaning into his mouth and wrapping her legs around him when he lifts her. She feels the way her panties are soaked through and at that moment, she is desperate to be wearing nothing. To feel all of his skin against all of hers. She whimpers, “Oh god babe I’m so wet.”

Jack is on top of her now. He grunts when he hears that, and he pushes his own hips down onto hers. They are both still fully clothed, but his erection is no secret when it’s pressing against Y/N. And he can easily feel the intense heat radiating off of her through her sweatpants. These respective sensations are enough to make the two of them moan together, on fire with want as they notice each other’s arousal.

Jack whispers, “Mmmm feel that baby?”

Her voice is whiny and a little pathetic with frantic desire. “Not sure if you’re talking about you or me, but I feel us both. Jesus Christ you’re hard. Ohhhh fuck.”

He chuckles a bit at her little display of desperation, and he slides his warm hands into her sweater, onto the even warmer skin of her stomach. His voice is gentle, soothing, but intimidatingly so. It’s clear that behind it, he is trying to control an unusual amount of arousal, a primal need to have Y/N naked and flushed and sweating beneath him. These images are flashing through his mind when he says, “All for you. God, look at you.”

His hands slide further, hiking up her sweater and revealing a bit of her abdomen. Y/N sighs as those familiar fingers graze her skin. She hears the quietest groan in Jack’s chest, and the sound of his pleasure in this moment, from just touching her, multiplies her own pleasure tenfold. His hands are on her bra. Her nipples are so hard that they are obvious through the padding, and both Jack and Y/N make a strained noise when he feels them.

Y/N starts to grasp his sweatshirt, arching her back a bit with desperation, and Jack knows neither of them can live like this a second longer. His own dick is currently being suffocated as it strains for this girl.

“Clothes are so uncomfortable, aren’t they baby?” he pulls her sweater off in a sudden hurry, followed by his own sweatshirt. The clothes end up somewhere, who knows, the only important thing is that they aren’t here.

She whimpers, “Yeah…oh my god…” as she feels utterly overwhelmed by his determination.

Jack’s eyes hungrily scan Y/N’s partially exposed body as he makes quick work of his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping like he has been in this situation, urgently taking his pants off, many times before. He has. Then they are off and gone and no longer in the universe and he is only in his boxers, yanking Y/N’s pants off with a frustrated grunt.

She has not really been doing anything to help; she has just been watching him in awe, blushing at his urgency. She decides this is her chance. Y/N places her palm firmly against Jack’s hard, fabric-covered cock, rubbing a bit and relishing in the way it reacts to her. The way it seems to have a mind of its own, twitching and straining under her touch. Jack groans, very audibly this time, as he feels this and stares down at Y/N in her bra and panties, so beautiful and laying right beneath him. His voice is low, “I need you baby. I…” his voice drifts off, unable to think straight as he sees her looking so helpless for him.

Y/N finally speaks up, though the tension is so palpable that she can only manage a whisper for fear of shattering the moment. “Jack…” his eyes meet hers and she whimpers, “please, Jack.”

Normally, he would do a whole “please what?” thing and make her spell it out for him that she desperately wants him to fuck her. But this time, he is so hard that he just makes a noise in his throat and pulls his boxers off, setting his throbbing dick free. He runs his hands over Y/N’s bra before slipping them under her back and unhooking it, letting the cursed thing fall off her shoulders and throwing it into the abyss that is the world outside of this one embrace.

Y/N is immediately relieved and also sent into a fit of deeper arousal when she sees his cock, throbbing with need and dripping pre-cum, hard and ready to go, all for her. She doesn’t wait for him to take her panties off, she just lifts her hips and does it herself so that they are now both naked, stripped bare before each other and each one loving the other.

But forget that—this is about the sex.

Jack grabs her thighs and roughly pushes them wide apart, staring between them. He smirks, “Mmmmm poor thing. A pussy this wet can only mean you’re aching for me.”

A soft gasp escapes Y/N’s lips. “Yeah…” her breath is shaky, “it’s your fault.”

“All this? Plus all that was in your panties?” his voice drops to a whisper as he leans close to her ear, “I’m the only guy who can make you this wet, hm?”

“Yes.”

He seems proud of himself. Of course, he already knew all that, but that doesn’t mean hearing it is any less hot. His lips are just barely brushing against her ear, and she can feel his breath when he adds, “I’m the only one who can see this pretty thing? Touch you like this?”

This time, it just comes out of her. “Yes daddy.” She wasn’t even trying to do that. Something just comes over her sometimes when he acts like this, and her eyes widen when she realizes. Her face turns red.

But Jack isn’t bothered. He smirks. Almost chuckles a bit. He kisses right below her ear, sliding his hand down her waist and softly rubbing it against her stomach. Then, in that low, intimate voice, “Mmmm what was that?”

Y/N is losing her mind. She doesn’t know how he does all this when she knows he is equally desperate, but apparently her calling him daddy makes him want to mess with her. She’s not having it. She’s not too proud to say it again and make it a little more flowery this time. She sounds really helpless and a little louder when she responds, “I’m all yours, daddy. Take everything, I don’t care, just fuck me please.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice. He lines himself up with her, purposefully letting his tip rub against her clit for a moment first. That makes her gasp. Then, “Sure, baby,” and he is pushing his dick into her, groaning a bit as the pressure and warmth of her pussy soothes his aching erection. “Shit, this is good.”

Y/N moans, her walls adjusting around him as she adapts to the sensation, and the feeling of being filled like that gives her face a glowy, though dazed, look. Her voice matches the look in a way, “Fuck…you feel so good daddy.”

“Mmm yeah?” he starts to slide in and out of her in a rhythm, slowly at first, “You like me on top of you, princess?”

He keeps going slowly, but starts to run his hand up her body, leaning in close as she whines, “Yes, daddy…ohhhh…” she doesn’t really know what to say. Her brain isn’t formulating responses when hes so close to her, touching her like that, fucking her like that, breathing on her skin.

“Good girl,” he slowly starts to kiss along her jaw, speeding up his thrusts just a bit. He seems to want this to last, but when he has been wanting her this bad, he has a limit to how much he can hold back. His lips eventually reach her ear, and he whispers, “This is where you belong. Right here under me baby. Your legs spread; your pussy wrapped around my cock like this.”

She gasps, then her exhale is just a moan. She starts to run her hands along his sides and his back, desperate to feel more of him as her breath becomes labored.

“Soooo wet…” his voice feels like poison, like it’s incapacitating her, but in such an addictive way; it’s like a drug. He grunts softly before speaking again, “and so, so tight…you feel like heaven, princess.” His hand reaches her breast and gently kneads the flesh as he starts thrusting his dick into her harder, though not any faster, feeling and relishing in the way her walls tighten and react to every adjustment.

Her eyes are fluttering as he praises the way she feels for him. Her nipples are hard, begging for stimulation when she feels his hand on her breast. It’s like he reads her mind, because in an instant he is teasing her nipple with his thumb, starting to plant hot, wet kisses on her neck. “Ohhhh…oh Jack,” she moans as he overloads her with pleasure all over, the sensations piling up and boiling over and causing her pussy to react, squeezing his dick for a moment as she arches her back just the slightest bit.

“Mmhmmm what about me baby? How does daddy’s cock feel?” His voice sounds rough, and he has to start fucking her faster. He needs more as he kisses and bites every sensitive spot on her neck that he knows so well, rubbing her precious breast with that one hand while his other arm is wrapped around her waist, supporting a bit of his weight against the bed. Her skin is hot and it’s all for him, “Tell me sweetheart.”

“Daddy…oh god it feels perfect…ohhh fuck it’s…mmm right there, daddy,” she whimpers as his dick rubs repeatedly against her g-spot, “so hard…fuck, you’re so hard and you stretch me out so good…” Her legs wrap around him, and she sighs under the weight of his warm body.

His mouth finds its way back to her lips, and now he’s moaning as well, making pleasured noises into her mouth as he fucks her hard and fast, feeling her tightness threatening to make him bust any minute now. He is panting as he speaks into the kiss, “Fuck, baby. Keep up that whimpering and shit.” He softly bites her bottom lip for a moment before he can’t do it anymore. He can’t focus on kissing her when her body feels like that. He adjusts his weight onto the other side and now the hand that was supporting him is all over her; it’s on her waist, on her breast, on her neck for a moment. Then it rests on her hip as he thrusts into her over and over and over again, watching the way her tits bounce from the force of his movements.

She does indeed keep up the whimpering. She is a moaning mess by now, her eyes closed more often than not, like her body doesn’t want to sense anything but this feeling. The warmth in her lower abdomen blooms like a flower, then spreads through her body like a flame. She is gasping with every breath, moaning with almost every exhalation. Y/N feels Jack’s cock staring to twitch inside her. She feels her own telltale spasms that come before orgasm too, crying out with pleasure, “Daddy!!! Ohhhhhh!!”

A small grunt escapes Jack’s chest with every thrust and his hand is gripping her hip so hard, squeezing the flesh like his life might depend on it. Their heavy breaths mix as he puts his face against hers. Sounds of panting and moaning fill the room, along with the sounds of the sheets rustling just slightly under their movements, and of course the sound of wet slapping as his pelvis repeatedly pounds into hers.

Jack speaks in a rough, strained voice, “I’m so fucking close baby. Oh, fuck you make daddy feel so damn good.”

Y/N replies frantically, almost pathetically, “Me too oh god me too. I’m gonna cum daddy oh you feel so good.”

He groans and speaks again, urgency in his voice now, though not replacing the sound of authority that has been there this whole time, “Fuck! Okay princess I need you to let go. Cum for daddy c’mon baby.”

If she wasn’t already going to cum just from the sensations of all this, those words definitely do the trick. She is suddenly arching her back and curling her toes, sweating and crying out in pleasure. Her orgasm hits her like a truck, causing her to convulse around Jack and writhe with the overwhelming feeling of it all. As for her face, her eyes roll back before they flutter shut, her mouth is open, her head tilted back slightly on the pillow, her cheeks flushed a bright shade of red. Y/N looks like the picture of female pleasure.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Jack, who sees the way she cums for him, sees the way her face looks all because of him, and feels the way her pussy squeezes the life out of his dick. He pumps into her for only a second more before he grunts loudly, driving his cock deep inside her and groaning as he feels himself release.

Y/N sighs as she feels that familiar warmth filling her up deep inside, feeling his cock spasm as he empties his load.

Jack is nearly paralyzed for a moment until he is all done, when he collapses on top of her, his face buried right where Y/N’s neck meets her shoulder. He lets his dick slip out of her as he starts to soften. He places a gentle kiss right where his lips are resting against her skin, and then a slow, quiet groan is heard from deep within his chest.

Y/N smiles and tries to control her breathing. She weakly lifts a hand to stroke his hair and the back of his neck, feeling a small amount of Jack’s nut mixed with her own wetness slowly dripping out of her. She sighs and can’t hold back a little giggle, “So that was good then?”

He just wraps his arms around her tighter and nuzzles his face deeper into her neck as he groans again. Y/N laughs. She uses her free hand to soothingly caress his back, feeling his toned muscles under that lovely skin, “Mmmm I see. You’re speechless.”

Jack chuckles into her neck and gives her another soft kiss there before lifting his head to look down at her. He strokes the hair around her face a bit, “Pretty…”

She smiles, “Good sex too?”

He laughs and hugs her tightly again, returning to his newly declared home nuzzled in her neck. There is a slight pause before Y/N hears and feels a soft voice against her skin, “The best sex.”

She nods with approval and pride in herself, then responds with a whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you. I’m gonna fall asleep here.”

Y/N chuckles and continues to caress him. She was calling him daddy earlier, but normally that melts away and they are just their barest selves after the excitement. She whispers, “Okay then.”

She hears one last little grunt from him and her heart melts as he falls asleep.

#jack hughes #nj devils #new jersey devils #jack hughes smut #nhl smut #hockey fic #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #hockey smut #smut

[jeanboyjean]

BIRTHDAY GIFT - ft jean kirstein. nsfw.

a/n: it's still the 7th somewhere right?? guys i grinded so hard to get this done but i did it!!! i hope this means my writing block is over D: idk why i made this angsty to start with but i promise it gets cute at the end. i picture this being kind of earlier on in the relo when ur still figuring each other out. HAPPY BDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!

cw: mdni. fem/afab reader. established relationship (break up), getting back together sex, piv, sappy? missionary, creampie, idiots in love. pet name: baby. jean is so boyfriend i want to cry.

wc: 3.5k

Your bedroom was a mess. 

You heaved a big sigh to yourself as you stood in your doorway and took a look around. Various articles of clothing were scattered everywhere… a shirt slung over the back of a chair, jackets stacked on top of each other on the foot of your bed, worn socks littered around on the floor. A basket of clean laundry you hadn’t bothered to fold and put away sat on the carpet and next to it was a pile of dirty clothes that was waiting to be washed. It was a true reflection of the state of your mind over the past few weeks after your break up with Jean. There was no good way to spin it - you were a complete and utter mess. 

The end of your relationship was the last thing you had expected when you had gone over to his place that day, but one thing had led to another and you had both said things you couldn’t take back. Now here you were... alone and missing him and miserable. You didn't know how long was acceptable to be crying over someone - after all, Jean was your first and only boyfriend. What you did know though was that the pain of losing him was far too fresh in your heart and you were nowhere close to being over him in the slightest.

It hurt even more because you knew he was doing so much better than you. One look at his instagram revealed more than you wanted to know. It seemed he was perfectly happy hanging out with his friends and now that he had deleted all of his photos of you, his comments were filled with girls who had been hiding in the bushes, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Meanwhile, you hadn’t taken down a single post because you couldn’t bear the thought of losing all of the memories you had together. To be honest, you couldn’t blame them - he was a catch after all. Too bad you had let him slip out of your fingertips.

With all the energy you could muster, you dragged yourself to your wardrobe and hauled open the doors. You needed to snap out of this. If he could move on, then why couldn’t you? You were better than this, damn it! Your vision flashed red as you angrily tipped out the clean laundry onto your bed and began folding it. You were going to do whatever it took to get over him and live your best life. That would show him! 

A petty fire fueled you as you imagined every scenario where you could rub it in his face that you were doing perfectly fine without him, but it was snuffed out in an instant when you reached into your closet to hang a shirt and your fingers brushed against a familiar soft fabric. Your hand stilled and your heart seized as you looked at the hoodie tucked away in the corner. You had shoved it away the night of your break up when you realised you had gone home wearing it and hadn’t had the heart to do anything about it since. Tears burned behind your eyes and your vision began to blur as you pulled it out and clutched it to your chest. No matter what you told yourself, you still loved him and the thought of moving on just made you want him back even more. You buried your face into the jersey and sobbed as you breathed in the faint scent of his cologne and clung onto the memory of him. 

If only you knew that Jean was doing a lot worse than you thought. 

It may have seemed like he was having the time of his life, but truthfully he was one bad moment away from honest to god ending it all. If it hadn’t been for Connie, he would have done what he really wanted to do and stayed in bed all day to wallow in his misery. Unfortunately, his friend would not let him rest and insisted on dragging him out whenever he could. 

Jean supposed he should be grateful that he had someone who was looking out for him and making sure he wasn’t drinking himself to death on his own. In fact, Connie had been the one to tell Jean to archive all of his photos with you and block your number after a close call one night when he’d had a little too much to drink and you had been ever present in his mind. It was just one more reminder that you were no longer his and it wrecked him, but he had followed through and he was trying to move on because isn’t that what you wanted? 

Over the weeks, he had replayed your last conversation over and over, trying to find the moment when everything had gone awry but there was no way to reason it. Every day without you was a day he wished he didn’t have to live. How could he move on when you were everything to him? All he wanted to do was to call you and see how you were doing, but he couldn’t do that to you. You hated him, you had said as much and you wanted nothing more to do with him. He was probably the last person you wanted to see. 

His phone dinged on the coffee table in front of him as he slumped into the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen in front of him. He picked it up and took a quick glance at the screen before tossing it to the side. Yet another notification, a message from someone but not the person he was hoping to hear from. It was pathetic the way he was still holding out hope, but he had thought that maybe, you would have reached out today. It was his birthday after all… but it was radio silence just as it had been for almost a month.

A knock on his door made his ears perk up. He frowned as he got up from the couch, smoothing down his shirt and ruffling a hand to fix his hair. He wasn’t expecting any visitors today, especially since he had specifically requested a quiet day for his birthday. Trust Connie though, he was probably here to pester him into going out and doing something “fun!” and “distracting!”. 

“I told you, man. I don’t want to do anything today,” Jean grumbled as he swung open his door with a roll of his eyes. “I just want to stay inside and -” 

His voice trailed off into a choked silence when his eyes met yours. You stood frozen in front of him, your eyes wide and your arms wrapped tight around yourself protectively. Jean’s mouth hung open in shock as he stared at you, unsure if you were real or just an apparition from his dreams. His eyes darted up and down at your form, blinking quickly a few times to clear his vision. As the realisation that you were actually in front of him sank in, he took in your appearance. Your shoulders were hunched up towards your ears, your hair a little messy and your eyelids puffy and tinged just a little red. Truthfully, you had looked better. And yet, his chest constricted and his heart clenched, because you were still the best thing he had ever seen. 

Your arms tightened as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet. His eyes snapped to the material you were gripping close to your front. That was... his hoodie. Time seemed to slow down as his vision tunnelled to just you in front of him, standing at his door, holding his clothes. 

“What are you doing here?” His voice was rough and low with emotion and he cleared his throat, swallowing thickly. 

You tried to look anywhere but at his face and instead watched his throat bob as your heart hammered in your chest. This was a mistake. Seeing him was too much, you should have known you weren’t ready. Just the sight of him was enough to make you weak and you willed the tears to stay at bay as you stared a hole into the door behind him. Your hands shook as you thrust your arms out, shoving his hoodie into his chest. 

“I came to give you this.” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a hurry and you clamped your lips shut as a lump lodged itself in your throat.

His hands reached up slowly to take the item and his fingers brushed against yours ever so slightly. The contact was enough to make you want to flinch but you tried not to let it show as you let go and dropped your arms to your side. Of course, Jean noticed but he chose not to say anything. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed at you, his knuckles turning white as his hands balled into the fabric. The silence was louder than ever as the two of you stood at his door, neither of you sure of where to go from there. 

You rocked back on your heels and cleared your throat. Your now empty arms hugged around yourself, resisting the urge to itch at your skin that was crawling from the overwhelming emotions of seeing Jean. Heat flooded your cheeks when you chanced a glance at his face and your eyes locked together, his expression unreadable and gaze heavy with unsaid words. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have come,” you said thickly as the tears threatened to fall again. 

You whirled around to leave but only managed a step away before you were stopped by Jean’s hand. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and he tugged tight, pulling you back toward him. The air in your lungs left you in a shocked gasp and your surroundings blurred as you spun around to face him. In one quick motion, his hands fell to your waist before you could lose your balance and yours planted on his chest as you caught your breath. His eyes bore into yours, swimming with emotion and now that you were really looking at him, you could see the red rims and the dark shadows that surrounded them. It had obviously been a while since he had last shaved, judging by the scruffy facial hair he had grown since you last saw him. It made you wonder if maybe he wasn’t doing as well as you had thought.

Or maybe he’d just had a few too many late nights out. 

The thought jerked you back into reality and you shook your head as you pushed against his chest. It was to no avail - you might as well have been trying to push away a cement wall. His hands held you firm in front of him, his fingers digging hard into your skin. 

“Why are you leaving?” 

You blinked hard. How could he ask that when he was the reason why you had to leave in the first place?

“Stay.” His arms snaked around your back and tightened until you were forced to take a step forward. “Don’t go.”

You shook your head again. His shirt crumpled in your hands as you clenched them into tight fists. You attempted to push against him again but your strength was starting to fail you. 

“Why should I stay?” You snapped, but there was none of the malice you hoped for. 

It was a loaded question and your shaking words sliced through like an arrow to strike into in his heart. His mind raced as he scrambled to find the right answer. Because he needed you. Because he couldn’t live without you. Because losing you would be the biggest mistake he ever made. Because, because, because… 

“I miss you,” was all he could manage. As soon as he uttered the words, he knew they were the wrong thing to say, confirmed by your humourless laugh in response, but it was the truth and he could barely find the words to string a sentence together at this moment. 

“Yeah, sure,” you snorted. “Let me go, Jean. You’re the one that wanted us to break up in the first place.” 

The world tilted on its axis around him and he could feel the bile rising in his throat. Was that true? 

“Please… I’m sorry. I miss you and I never meant for it to get like this.” He blinked hard as his vision began to blur. The desperation was clear in his tone. “I’m so sorry. Please, take me back.” 

You watched as the tears fell from his eyes and slipped down his cheeks. As if moving by instinct, you released his shirt and cupped his face, wiping his damp skin with your thumbs. His eyelids fluttered shut as he inhaled deeply and he dipped his head to press his forehead against yours. The ice in your heart thawed with each tear that he shed - curse him and his stupid face. You would always be weak when it came to him. 

He pulled you in even closer with his arms until your body was pressed flush against his and the heat between you was enough for the dam to break and you were moving without even thinking about it. You tugged his face down and his lips crashed into yours which parted instinctively and then he was kissing you as if it was the last thing he would do on earth.

His hands slid up your back until he was cradling your head at the nape of your neck. His tongue slipped between your lips, finally savouring your taste after the weeks apart. He kissed you fervently, each press of his lips against yours an apology and a promise that he intended to keep. In the back of your mind, you registered the click of the door shutting behind you as he led you into his home and guided you towards his room. 

The back of your legs hit the edge of his bed and you parted for a moment as you fell back onto the mattress. Jean gazed down at you with the kind of heavy lidded look someone might call hungry, predatory even. His eyes burned into yours and you glanced away quickly with a gulp. As much as you wanted this, the time apart and the tension was making you more nervous than you had ever been in his presence. What if it wasn’t as good as it had been in the past? What if you weren’t good enough anymore?

“Jean…” 

His name slipped from your lips, a little breathless and unsure, but all uncertainty died out in an instant when he reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt off with a flourish, revealing his toned torso. Desire coursed through your body, heat flooding from your core to rise to your cheeks and pool between your legs. He wasted no time in climbing onto the bed and guiding you back until you were laying on your back with him pressed on top of you. His weight kept you pinned down as his lips met yours again. This time, he let his hands roam over you, sliding under your shirt to palm at your skin. You gasped into his mouth as he cupped your breast with one hand and pinched a nipple with his fingers. 

“Take off your shirt,” he mumbled hazily. He peppered soft kisses along your jaw before pulling away. “I need to see you. Please.” 

You hastily removed your shirt with his guidance and since it was clear where this was heading, you slipped your pants and underwear down and kicked them off the bed. Jean’s eyes flashed his delight and he groaned as he took in the sight of you finally naked underneath him. His hands trailed down your body, skimming over your soft dips and curves, tracing your skin as if wanting to commit it all to memory.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I almost lost you. So fucking stupid.”

You reached up to his face and yanked him down in another kiss. Heat blazed within you and you ached to feel him in every way you had before. You could reminisce another time, right now you needed him, all of him.

“You’re stupid,” you replied as you caught your breath. “But that’s why I love you.” 

His movements stilled at your words. His eyes shone as his lips stretched in a full grin. “I love you too… so much. I love you so much it hurts.”��

You giggled softly. “Show me then,” you urged and he smirked in response. 

“Needy much?”

He savoured every moment as he kissed down your neck, sucking into the soft flesh. A hand slid along your thigh to cup your aching pussy and the feeling of your heat had his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He sucked in a breath as he slipped a finger between your folds, feeling the wetness gather. 

“You’re so wet, baby. Did you miss me that much?” He chuckled lowly, eyes dark with lust as he watched his fingers slide against your entrance. 

You whined in response, desperate to feel more of him. “Fuck you, Jean. Bet you missed me more.” 

He snorted and plunged two fingers inside you instead of replying. Your back arched and you moaned in delight at the sudden intrusion. The heat in your core began building even more as he fucked you with his fingers, just the way he knew you liked. 

“Oh, I missed this so much. I love you, I love you.” The words spilled out of him as you moaned in pleasure. “Are you ready for me baby? I want to fuck you so bad.” 

You nodded eagerly, fingernails digging into his bed sheets as you spread your legs further in anticipation. Never had you been more ready than now and your mouth watered as you watched him shuck off his pants and free his heavy cock. He leaned his weight on one hand while he used the other to line himself up and enter you slowly. Despite the urgency you were both feeling, neither of you wanted to rush this. You relished in the feeling of him filling you up inch by inch, stretching you open, moulding your insides to fit perfectly around him and his breathing quickened and his hips stuttered as he bottomed out. 

“Oh god, you feel just as good as I remembered,” he groaned as he began to thrust his hips. His pace began to build and you wrapped your legs around his waist while he lifted your hips up to deepen the angle. His cock slid in and out steadily, the tip hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves inside your walls with every stroke. “Actually no, this is so much better than I remember,” he corrected himself. “So much better. So good, so good.” He was rambling now, the pleasure of being inside you the exact drug he needed to loosen his tongue. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I love you so much. I’m never going to let you go.” 

You struggled to find the words to form a coherent sentence, your mind too clouded with lust. Instead, you chanted his name as his hips snapped into you relentlessly. You were tumbling toward your release and the building pleasure was almost too much to bear. He reached a hand between you and your walls clenched in response, sucking him in even more as he rubbed at your clit.  

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby. I’m not gonna last much longer. Are you close? You gonna cum with me?” 

You cried out as he drove into you harder. A fever burned within you; only Jean could make you feel this way.  “I’m gonna cum!” 

He dipped his head down to press his lips onto your forehead as he neared his own orgasm. “Okay fuck. Come on then. Cum with me, baby.”

Your vision went white and your mind blanked out as your body flooded with pleasure. Your fingernails dug into his back as you hurtled over the edge and you pulsed around him, milking him for all he could give you. He hissed out curses in response as he thrust into you hard and his hips jerked as he came too. He spilled inside you and his cock twitched as he fucked his cum into you deeper, not wanting to waste a single drop, before he pulled out slowly. The primal urge to claim you as his was too much to ignore.

Jean tumbled onto the bed next to you, his legs still laying over yours as the two of you panted heavily. His arm snaked around your waist and tugged you into his embrace, ignoring how your sweaty limbs stuck to each other. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and breathed in your familiar scent. This was the home he was missing. You smiled as you brought a hand to his face and carded your fingers through his hair to sweep it away from his forehead. 

“Happy birthday, Jean,” you said softly. 

He blinked up at you sleepily. His cheeks were rosy with exertion and his eyes sparkled with joy. “You remembered?” 

“Of course I did. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

He let out a laugh at that, the joyous sound bounced off the walls of his bedroom, the first time he had laughed so wholeheartedly in a while. It felt as if the weight of the whole world had been lifted off his shoulders. 

“Are you kidding? You’re the best gift I could ask for.” 

He turned your cheek and began peppering kisses on your face. You joined him in his laughter and giggles bubbled out of you as he made sure to bless every part of your skin with his lips. The press of his hardening cock on your side made you narrow your eyes at him playfully and you reached down to wrap your fingers around it, swiping your thumb at the cum that had leaked from his tip and spreading it down his length.

“Again already?” You teased. 

The hungry look was back on his face in the dark glint to his eyes and the way he licked his lips as he grinded into your hand. He pressed himself up onto his forearms and moved back to cage you underneath his weight. His hair hung around his face as he hovered over you and something told you to strap in for a long night. 

“What can I say... I missed you and I want to make up for lost time.” 

#✎ . chlo wrote smth #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein x reader #aot x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein

[witheredtoashes]

birds and their wings

Okay, okay, everyone.

Here's my piece, aka predictions, for the Phil and his wings lore.

He's not getting them back. Or at least, he'll be the last one.

Why?

Because he wants them.

As far as I know, phil is the only one to be actively asking the federation, admins, and Cucurucho for the restoration of his wings. Not only that, I think while it's a very common headcanon or belief that Jaiden, baghera, and quackity have wings and are avians, and this is accepted by the creators themselves, they've never wanted wings. They've never asked for them. Correct me if I'm wrong, since I don't watch them often, but the other avians on qsmp are birdlike and like to be considered birds, but.. it's not ingrained. And I say these things in comparison to Phil.

Day one, barely into the stream when he was on the train, Phil talked about his wings and them being clipped. IMMEDIATELY addressed why he couldn't fly, because flying is utterly ingrained into his movements, his thinking, and everything he does. If he's not flying, there has to be a reason.

Fast forward, Phil's getting more into lore. All of his lore is about the eggs and the federation, or his wings. Being a bird. It's starting to show in everything he does, and it's purposeful.

He's perching more, when he's idle. He's always perched high in his hardcore world or even in qsmp, wanting to get the best viewpoint to see what's around him, what dangers there are, and get a look of the land. But, he's perching in places where he doesn't need to do all that.

In forever's office. On the wall, which he knows is safe and knows the surroundings of. Whenever he's idle, he will parkour and climb to the highest spot he can reach every single time, out of boredom. But it's an instinct, and it's one he's PURPOSELY tying into being a bird.

Another reason- he's more birdlike than all the other avians. It shows in his movements, his words, even his morals. He thinks like a bird. It shows in every part of his character, not just design.

Phil treasures nature and natural things over everything. He likes large open spaces. He perched and builds on the wall, and then he COVERS it in grass and transforms it into a place bustling with life and nature. Natural, wild, a place where animals can thrive and live, like a forest. Somewhere where a bird would flourish.

Not only this, it's in his hardcore world. Which we KNOW is canon. Everything he builds is connected to nature and wildlife, or at least large open spaces he can soar around. Endlantis? The sea and life taking over the barren end, and it's BRIMMING with plants and animals and growth. The ocean monument? Come on, self explanatory. Nethervoid? It's a void, barren of life, but he has pockets of life and animals within it. It's wide open, letting him soar through and admire it and fly without fear. The spawn islands? Literally pockets of floating life. The wall around his spawn? A artificial stone structure, cold and unforgiving, being taken over again by nature, weathered away, and covered in vines, trees, and moss. Life is everywhere.

Now, qsmp.

Jaiden shows Phil his wings, right? She says she just "busts them out", like she's had them, fully functional the entire time.

One of Phil's first questions is "can you fly yet?" Because that's the first thing he'd do if his wings were whole. Hearing Jaiden is too shy, he groans like he's disappointed before saying it's alright. He asks if she's always had wings. He says he's glad she's got her wings and that SHE CAN FLY AGAIN. After complaining of his own fucked up wings, and how he can no longer fly.

Phil adds more lore to his wings, and connects back to them again. He says that with the damage and the amount of feathers clipped, he has to wear the heavy backpack to balance himself, because he's so used to their weight. Now that it's off, he can't walk or move properly without that weight being fixed. It's such a natural part of him that he adjusted to, he can't live without them.

When Jaiden spoke of caging the birds she's found, Phil paused, and he got that hesitant joking along but please don't be serious voice he often uses, saying "You let them out of the cages though, right?"

He's concerned of the detriments of being caged, and how birds need to be free and fly. Exactly what he can't do. He calls the island a cage.

Now, all this MIGHT be because of the cage for a cage punishment, right? But I don't think it is. I think this instinct was already there, and that lore built onto it and got him to show it more.

He's mindful not of being trapped in a cage again, but the harm of being trapped and confined and not able to fly. We all saw how he went a little insane in that birdcage, right? Dreaming of hardcore, thinking he was in there for weeks, and how it left him shattered and unable to trust himself and his reality without outside assurance. Aka, the pheonix. He didn't call cucurucho out for fucking with him, he questioned whether.. it really was real, and maybe thats why he couldnt lasso it. He relaxed when cucurucho said it saw the bird in the picture, and still hung onto that moment and HOUR LATER, saying it was still fucking with him.

And in the birdcage. He saw all his fellow birds, imprisoned, and the next time we see him? They're all free. They're flying around in the little space they can, while he's grounded.

Outside of that, he croons over every bird and keeps it safe. But when it comes to running out of cages, he lets the birds fly freely again in the SAME stream he found them, instead of making new cages. He looks after them. He knows the importance of freedom, and that's why he's an anarchist, that's why he hated the elections and the federation, that's why he plans and avoids shit not only to keep his little fledglings, his eggs, safe, but to also save himself from being forced to make a decision via blackmail or threats. That's why he didn't enter the election in the first place. He's spiteful and treasures his freedom over everything.

What I'm saying is, his instincts, choices, and nature is tied to being a bird, and being part bird is tied to every part of him. Moreso than the other avians.

So what does this mean for him getting back his wings?

Well, he wont.

It's power over him, now that the eggs are gone. Not a threat, because those make him spiteful and prone to lashing out- uncontrollable.

It's a promise of what he could have, given he behaves. If he listens to the federation.

The minute he has his wings, he's free, there's no more power. He's too buffed as a player to have them taken away again, he's too interconnected with everyone, and everyone will rush to his aid if he says he needs help. They'll never be able to harm his wings, and now, he's too anxious and cautious to fall into a trap. He doesn't trust the federation in the first place, immediately assuming their goal is to kidnap people, and he DEFINITELY doesn't trust messages from the eggs/about the eggs because of the birdhouse. We see this with fit, because when fit tells Phil he got a message from his eggs, Phil IMMEDIATELY asks him if he's sure it was real. Light and cautious, he won't step on the trap again, and he won't let anyone else either.

So, they keep his wings away from him. Taunt him with them, with the idea of getting them, in order to keep them in line. Why do I know this?

Well, they've already started.

Again, Jaiden has her wings. Early on, she goes to Phil's house with them, and he sees them and REALIZES the federation is restoring wings, or at least allowing people to use them. Getting his wings back becomes a possibility, while they use Jaiden to parade that fact around.

Quickly after this, Phil starts to ask the federation to restore his wings. Immediately when he sees them come to his house (coincidentally, some time after Jaiden comes and with Jaiden there.) he asks for his wings. They laugh at him.

Phil gets a quest from cucurucho, the being he constantly curses out and hates on, and he TAKES THE QUEST. Because he sees he can get a reward- something that isn't set in stone or written down. Something he can bargain.

So he does the quest, and then when cucurucho comes to reward him, he starts to bargain.

"YOU WILL RECEIVE A REWARD."

"is it my wings back? JK you wouldn't do that"

"def worth it for the god apple. still no wings though, y'know. Still no healed wings.."

"BY THE WAY, DID YOU CATCH THAT SUNBIRD?"

"Yes, yes I did, thank you."

"GOOD JOB."

"Maybe repair my wings? Maybe repair my wings a little?" AND HE TURNS HIS BACK TOWARDS CUCURUCHO AND SH OWS HIM HIS CLIPPED WINGS,, "I can take off my backpack- oh, no, he's gone."

He turns his back to someone he knows has a gun, considers his enemy, and doesn't trust in the slightest. HE TURNS HIS BACK. In order to extend his wings and show them to cucurucho, show it the clipped ends, the most important part of him, as if to gain sympathy or further plead his case as "this is something that is broken, please fix it." To set things to right.

Cucurucho laughs, and leaves. No wings.

This leads me to believe that the federation will continue to ask tasks of Phil, because he is strong and smart and will get them done, and he will use it as a leverage tool of "hey, I'm helping you, why don't you help me?" And continuously ask them to restore his wings.

But they know that. And they'll say no. He'll do more and more.

Eventually, hell realize they're not going to give them to him. He's smart. Hell catch on. So what do the federation do to give him hope?

They give others their wings. They show him that there's a chance, because OTHERS are getting their wings, so why not him? He must not have done enough, it has to be a possibility. He can still work, and he can get them. He just has to do more.

Hell continue to work, because he sees it as a possibility. Subtly, they'll play him to be their strongest pawn.

And when he doesn't get his wings, even after all his work, I think he'll start to resent those with their wings. Jealousy turning into a little bit of hate, a little bit of bitterness at something so important to him being treated so lightly, not as priceless as he would see them. Not as treasured or appreciated. Hell be taunted with their freedom and how little value they give to it.

Everything recently has been trying to divide the islanders. Taking away their uniting goal, protecting the eggs. The create nerf scuffles. People working with cucurucho, their enemy, and foolish ratting everyone out. There's tension, and secrets are being kept, unlike before. But who's been allied with everyone, and who everyone trusts, despite it all?

Philza, with his honesty, plain to see goals, and lack of a motive or physical thing he cherishes over his friendships. There's nothing to use against him.

Until now. His wings. A way to create tension in Phil's life, a way to make him bitter, a way to control him.

By offering him his freedom, they'll be pressing him into a cage even smaller than before.

A cage made of glass, impossible for him to see.

#philza minecraft #qsmp #qsmp phil #qsmp philza #q!philza #q philza #qsmp liveblog #qsmp analysis #a cage for a cage #qsmp jaiden #Oh god I'm so excited for this lore to pan out #But I'm so scared at the same time #qsmp cucurucho #You're a bitch #Anyway continue to torture my streamer #Wither speaks

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

My heart is yours

a/n I know this ain't TLOU gif but I had to. Look how this man could hold you. Anyways... happy reading. This just came out of nowhere.

summary: Jackson doesn't seem to kill the fears in Joel's mind, only awaking new kind of doubts. Can you actually be in love with him or is it a hopeless dream that Joel is chasing?

Requested and inspired by my little lilly 🪷

warning: past injuries, hand trauma.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Joel didn't care for any of it. He didn't care about a safe space to live in. He didn't care about what or where he slept. What he ate and if he ate in general. Pills and alcohol were all he needed at night. Even after twenty years, life hadn't been the same. And by that point, Joel simply didn't care. He lived in black and white. There was no in-between. He no longer believed in happiness. No longer strived to make a change. He was simply surviving.

Yet Joel's imagination would paint pictures of a somewhat different world. A handful of pills later, the blanket that laid over his shoulders would turn into a lover's embrace. Where the pillow felt like the soft flesh of the significant other. Joel was thankful when he had no recollections of the night like that. Where there was blank darkness and no evidence that he had been nothing but lonely. Longing. Somewhere deep down, longing to make a change. Most importantly, longing to be loved. Longing for someone to see him. To dust off the pain and make him feel something different.

Then Ellie came along, and you were right beside her. At first, Joel didn't even understand why Marlene wanted him on this job when you were with Ellie. Wild animals were less frenzied than you. Surely getting Ellie to the fireflies was like a walk in the park for you. That was until Joel noticed your trembling hands. The way you rubbed your palms together. How you only stick to knives for self-defense.

You had opened up about your past one night as you both sat under the starry sky, with Ellie fast asleep not far away from you. The cold temperature was extremely brutal for your hands. The ache seemed never-ending. "Do you want these?", Joel broke the silence, taking off his much thicker gloves before handing them to you. You just started at him. Of course, you had talked before. You've been on the road with him for some time now. But it always seemed cold and bitter. If there was one thing Joel was extremely good at, it was making people feel like they were the problem.

You shook your hand, inching towards the fire, moving your palms closer to the flame. Joel gazed at you, letting out a sigh. It was odd considering the type of your communication but he could feel the strange feeling bubbling inside him. The feeling would perk up if he would woke up to you by his side or if your head would fall onto his shoulder as you dozed off while keeping watch. Even when you laughed alongside Ellie, Joel couldn't help that strange sensation in his stomach.

"I would prefer if you took them. I'm not cold anyway", Joel spoke up again. "And I'm not a cripple", "I never said that", you turned to him quickly. Even in the dim light, Joel could see the tears that glossed over your eyes. "Your eyes say enough", you bit back, turning your attention to the flame in front of you. Joel wasn't sure why he was even doing this, but he moved forward, resting his hands on your shoulder. It had been weird between you two. You had kissed a couple of times. And if the first kiss was the aftermath of too much adrenaline after a near-death experience. The second time had no justification. "What happened", Joel said softly, rubbing your shoulders ever so slightly. He had once selfishly examined your hands while you slept. Joel knew that was an invasion of privacy, but his eyes caught onto the scars and his fingers moved without a second thought.

You let out a bitter laugh. "I was a bad girl. I got involved with bad people, and well, bad people do bad things", Joel had seen. Had inspected the scars and permanent discoloration that covered your hands. He wondered what had happened. Wondered who were the people that had done this. Most importantly, he wondered how good it would feel to make them slowly suffer for all that was done to you.

Joel had never done this when you two were fully awake, never fully aware. He pulled you closer to him. Your hands instantly clasped over his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Silent tears fall down your cheeks. Oddly enough, Joel had been a safe space for you. Someone you knew would go that extra mile to make sure that you were safe. "You have nothing to fear now. I've got you. You can count on me, sweet", Joel said, making you let out a silent sob as you held onto him tighter. "What if I fail to protect you though…", you whispered. Joel quickly turned you around in his arms so he could face you. "Didn't seem like a problem when you stabbed that guy in the throat", Joel said, referencing the attack in the store, but you just narrowed your eyes at him. "We have each other, and now that Ellie has a gun, believe me, we are good", you let out a light chuckle while leaning your head against Joel's chest. That was the night you saw a future in him. Leaving you to hope that Joel felt the same way.

Ellie was bubbling through all the stories of today. In all honesty, she was supposed to do her homework while you fished off with dinner, but you didn't have the heart to stop her. Seeing her so full of life was refreshing. You three haven't been in Jackson very long. A month at best, and it still seemed like a dream. Tommy had very kindly landed you a small cottage at the side of the town. They even arranged a little celebration to welcome you, Ellie, and Joel in. Joel of course snarled through most of it.

Holding onto your hips as he zoned in and out. Partly listening to the conversations you were having with people that were around him and partly just trying to ground himself. He hated places like this. There was too much buzz. Joel wasn't used to it. Not to mention the attention that was put on you three. That was way too exhausting. You would occasionally turn to him. Running your fingers through Joel's hair or simply resting your hands on top of his hands that were lazily curled over your middle.

A protective gesture. You called it Joel's circle. He did this often. Even if you two were in the comfort of your new home. His arms would wrap around your middle. The only moving space you had was within Joel's embrace. You knew it was still so hard for him to feel safe. To not fear that something was going to happen. Joel loved running over the worst scenarios. Your broody, grumpy grape. You shifted in his embrace. Your eyes searched his tired ones. "Should we make a grand outing? So that everyone would think that we are going to fuck our night away?", you said casually, making Joel let out a laugh. His bold ray of sunshine. God, that smart mouth of yours drove Joel insane. "Depends on how loud you are willing to moan", you let out a gasp, shoving him slightly, as you got lost in Joel's smile. A rare sight for sore eyes.

Everyone was quick to label you as Joel's girl. It was in a way strange at first because no matter where you went, you were met with the same greeting, but then again, you couldn't blame them. Joel watched you like a hawk. Eyes rarely left you if you were in his sight. Always looking. Always watching. Even here, he was a man who was feared. Well, besides the fact that most females were ready to hook their arms around his neck. You wondered if he ever noticed how they drooled over him. You were hoping that he didn't because if Joel chose any of them over you… Not that you had a say, but your heart would be shattered.

"And then I said that I was done with the project", Ellie continued to chirp, "But I gave you guys credit, don't worry", you let out a laugh at her words. You three had lots of fun building that paper rocket ship. Ellie came home with an assignment to build her dream. Seeing the space was one of them. So you three sat on the living room floor for hours. Small talk lingers. The plate with cookies was nearly empty. "Did you give credit to Joel's back?", you turned to Ellie, and the smirk on her face was outrageous considering that she was still a child. "Got a special mention on the title page", Ellie said sheepishly, and you two fell into fits of laughter just as Joel stepped into the kitchen.

"What are we laughing about?", Joel moved straight to you, planting a gentle kiss on the side of your head. His usual way of greeting you. You closed your eyes at the sensation, savoring the feeling of his lips against your skin. "Honestly?", Ellie asked, and Joel nodded. "How I wrote a special appreciation poem for your back because you helped with the ship", Joel rolled his eyes at that. Ellie took great joy in making fun of his age. But Joel never really cared about it. As long as she was happy, so was he.

Joel noticed the jar in your hands and how your palms flexed as you tried to open it. Without a single word, Joel placed his hands over yours. Pressing ever so slightly as he turned the lid off. You bit your lip. That was another thing that Joel did. If it wasn't necessary, he never took the things you were trying to open away from your hands. He just offered additional strength with his hands. It was his way of making sure that you didn't feel worthless. Joel would notice your struggles; he always did. But he had learned to read your body language and to know when you needed his aid and when it was best to leave you to it alone.

You turned to face him, meeting his eyes with a silent thank you that he answered with yet another kiss to your temple. "Okay, you two are doing that cute shit again", Ellie's voice made you both turn her way. "Don't you look at me like that? Will I have to drag you two to the altar or are you going to do something about it yourself?", she blurted out, making your eyes grow big. "You get back to your homework, miss, 'cause if it's not done before dinner, you're not eating", Joel pointed a warning finger the girl's way, which she graciously met by sticking out her tongue.

A light blush crept up on your cheeks. Alter seemed way out of reach. Well, for now at least. You weren't even sure if you two were together. You assumed you were, but… You had never talked. It was a silent promise. As if you claimed one another without words. Leaving it to the actions. Joel held on to you like you were his lifeline most nights. Face buried in the crook of your neck. Arms pulling you as close to his chest as possible. If nightmares clouded his mind, you would pull him closer to yourself. Gently guiding him to lay down practically on top of you as you brushed your fingers through his salt-and-pepper. hair You loved them. It was almost embarrassing that sometimes you just twirled Joel's curls between your fingers with such admiration. You knew he never found himself beautiful, but in your eyes, he was the most handsome male you had ever laid your eyes on.

"Will you grab the plate, I…", you didn't even have to finish the sentence. Joel was already moving through the kitchen. "How was patrol?", "Nothing new, although the weather is getting better", you hummed at Joel's words. The sun was shining for most of the day today, and you could tell that everyone was in a much more cheerful mood. "How was the meeting with Becky?", Becky was a woman in her eighties. She had worked many years in the medical field, especially with post-trauma treatments. You visited her every other day, and she guided you through different exercises to rebuild the strength of your hands. "It was okay, but as you can see, I can barely hold the spoon," you said as you lifted your trembling head up for Joel to see, but he didn't find much amusement in that. He feared that you pushed yourself too much with this. Stepping closer, Joel took both of your hands into him before pressing them to his lips. "Please wash your hands before you pour my bowl; I don't want Joel's saliva in it", Ellie sassed from the other side of the room. "Ellie", you said with a chuckle, and Joel threw a towel her way, making you both fall into fits of laughter.

Jackson felt like a dream. Like a lucky coin. A four-petal clover. You name it. Yet Joel still couldn't settle his mind. Now more than ever, it felt so clustered. He watched you and Ellie laughing over dinner. The table he also sat at, but did he deserve to be here? Or were you two better on your own? Joel wasn't blind; he saw how people practically melted when you walked through the streets offering everyone a smile. You brought life to an already lively town. Contributing to help anywhere and everywhere. Seeing you shift from this constantly scared girl to a lovely young woman was a huge gift to Joel.

He wanted you to live. To experience happiness and joy. He wanted you to be carefree. To dance your nights away. To be twirled around the dance floor by different males and females. You deserve to live. Something Joel probably couldn't afford to be a part of. Moments when he saw younger males looking your way, talking amongst themselves as they looked you up and down made him both unimaginably angry and jealous. First of all, you weren't an object to be gawked at. You deserved a respectful partner. And second of all, Joel knew if he had met you earlier, when he was full of life, it would have been so different. He would have given you everything. He would be the one twirling you around the dance floor. He would have taken you on dates by the river. Played you different songs on his guitar. Now that side of him was dead. Buried by all the pain. Buried beside Sarah.

"Joel…", after feeling your hand on his, Joel quickly turned your way. Your brows were crushed down. "You haven't touched your food, hun", you said softly. Joel's eyes drifted to the plate in front of him. The tightness in his throat and chest increased. As the thoughts of being only a burden swirled through his brain. Why were you here? Were you simply scared? Scared to explore something more because he was here? Would Ellie be happier if you settled for someone younger? It sure would make a more normal-looking family. Joel quickly stood up, nearly knocking the chair over as he rose. "I'm not hungry; I'm going for a walk", he said coldly as he stepped out of the kitchen. You called his name a couple of times. Joel braced himself against the fence. Hand on the chest as he tried to take in at least a single gulp of air.

You waited for Joel to return almost all night, but he didn't show up. You had wondered if you should go and try to find him, but deep down you knew that your wandering down the street in the night would only add to whatever that was going on with him. You've got Ellie ready for school. Making extra scrambled eggs and scribbling a little note for Joel. You're not alone. You can count on me, it said. A tiny heart by the end of it. Now you could only hope that it wasn't something you had done.

You pupped to help out another elderly lady while you waited for Ellie to be done with her classes. She made the most delicious meat pies and pastries. The delicious smell followed you around the bakery all day. You did as much as your hand allowed you, for the rest compensating with your smile. Already thinking about how you were going to surprise Joel with a pie that you had made yourself. He was a sweet guy deep down. And it had been way too long since you all had a proper pie.

You slipped inside the school just as the last class was finishing. The sight of Ellie nearly leaning out of her chair as she followed every word that the teacher was saying was endearing. She needed this. Needed other kids. Needed to learn. Needed to feel normal. "Y/N, right?", you quickly turned to the side. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump", the guy, who wasn't that much older than you, said, rubbing the back of his neck. You've seen him around, but if you were being honest, you had no clue who he was. As if sensing this, the guy quickly said, "Ben, one of Ellie's teachers. We've met at the bar". You smiled at him, "Right, yes, sorry. A lot of new faces still". Your eyes drifted back to Ellie. For some reason, you felt uneasy in his presence.

"So am… You… I'm making such a fool of myself", Ben rambled on, quickly popping into what you assumed was a teacher's room. For a split second, you wondered if you should just walk away, but Ben walked out with a big bouquet of flowers you didn't even know the name of. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "I was hoping that you would pop in today. Got you those", you knew that you needed to say something but you felt lost for words. No one had ever gotten you flowers and… Ben carefully placed the bouquet in your hands. "You just caught my eye, and I've been wanting to ask you out. I know this is super straightforward", you shook your head, "I… they are beautiful, thank you, but… I." A part of you was screaming that this was wrong. You wanted to tell him that you were with Joel. But were you with Joel? Your head felt like it was spinning, but you just didn't feel it. It didn't feel the same. Didn't feel like it did with Joel.

"Look… I'm sure you are a really sweet guy, but I'm in a… Well, I like someone else, and I just", your voice sounded so small. You hated that you weren't confident. Ben gave an awkward nod, "Right, the big guy. I should have guessed", "I'm sorry; I'm sure there's a sweet girl out there for you. Thank you for… well, for the flowers though. Unless you want to keep them". You pushed the bouquet towards him, but he only shook his head and said, "Keep them, and I hope we can still get to know each other. Like friends, of course", you smiled at him right as the door opened and kids spilled out of the classroom.

"So, wait, he just did like… Did he kiss you?", Ellie hadn't stopped talking ever since you left the building. To her, this was the most hilarious thing ever, while you still tried to process it all. "Of course not. I would have never let him do that", you said. "Do you reckon he fantasizes about you?", you glared at her quickly. Ellie only lifted her hands in defiance.

"A pie and flowers. Are we celebrating something?", you didn't even realize that you were standing in front of the cottage with Joel leaning against the open door. You opened your mouth, but Ellie beat you to it: "Ben got Y/N flowers; bet he is like in love with her", she said as she wiggled her eyebrows at Joel. You knew this was innocent. You knew she didn't understand what was going on between you two. So you couldn't blame her, but you wished she hadn't said it like that. Joel's jaw clenched. Anger washed over him. He turned away from you moving to the back patio.

Joel knew who Ben was. Most importantly, Joel saw the way Ben looked at you. That guy was a good bit younger than him. Broad shoulders, piercing eyes. Desire burned inside him. Ben wanted you and Joel could see it. Did you want him as well? "Joel, wait, Joel,", he heard your pleading voice as he rushed down the little stairs, moving to the backside garden. "Go back to your boyfriend", Joel snarled through gritted teeth. "Ben is just Ellie's teacher. I didn't even…", Joel turned to you quickly, "Who gives you flowers", "Well, maybe he's just being sweet", you knew that you both knew that that was bullshit. And honestly, now you wondered if downplaying it would only make it worse.

"Maybe he just likes you", Joel spat back, frustration dripping off him. "Do you seriously don't see it? That fuck had a big old crush on you ever since you came here". Those words, however, did take you by surprise because you didn't see it. You never acknowledged Ben's presence. You didn't care what Ben was doing. You never looked for it. "Well, I didn't see it, no", Joel gave you a look that clearly showed you that he didn't believe you. "Oh, come on. I've never had a man show me attention before you; how am I supposed to know?", you asked, raising your hand in frustration. Growling as Joel turned and started to walk again. "Joel, stop fucking walking or I'll throw the fucking flowers at you!", you shouted as your frustration laced through you. Joel stopped in his tracks.

"Do you seriously feel like he's my type?", you approached the man in front of you slowly, dropping the flowers to the side as you walked. "Joel", "I don't know", he muttered under his breath. He wasn't good at this thing. He wasn't good with his emotions. But the fear of losing you crippled him. "Well, my type is anything but that. I like my man mature like wine or cheese", you said, moving to cup Joel's cheeks. "Come on, turn the frown upside down", you encouraged him slowly, but Joel only shifted his eyes to you. Piercing through your soul.

"Listen to me, you stubborn hulk. This", you took a hold of his hand, pulling it up and pressing it over your heart, "Beats for you. I picked you a long time ago. And if you think some thirty-something dickhead can come in and swoop me away", you shook your head. "Yeah, have more faith in yourself, especially when all of Jackson's females have an orgasm when you walk by", you sassed. "No, they don't", Joel argued, but you only crooked your head to the side, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you mean it?", Joel asked, arms now sneaking to hold onto your hips, "That my heart is yours? With my whole life", you smiled up at him. Joel leaned in. A breath hitched in your throat as he erased the last bit of distance between you two and your lips met his. You felt like you had blacked out for a moment as all the fireworks started to explode from within you. You held on to Joel for dear life as he pressed you closer to his body. His other hand cupped your cheek. It was desperate. Needy. Long overdue, and you couldn't suppress the giggle that fell from your lips as you two finally parted. Hiding your face in Joel's chest.

You could feel how fast his own heart was beating. Smiling to yourself that it was you who had such an effect on him, "I love you", he whispered. Barely audible but more than enough for you to step on your tiptoes and kiss him again. "I'm in a daring mood to let the whole of Jackson know that I am yours", you mumbled after a while in Joel's embrace. "Pick your words carefully, baby girl,", Joel warned, but you only smirked back at him. Before pulling the devilish smile, "Want to fuck me against the electricity pole?", Joel let out a surprised laugh before shaking his head at you. Scooping you up in his arms quickly, making you let out a scream followed by fits of giggles as he carried you back into the cottage.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[dilemmaontwolegs]

If you need ideas for the Temptation snapshots, I've got one. It's Scotty's wedding, Daniel's Kitten is a bridesmaid. She looks stunning in a curves complimenting dress. Daniel can't take his eyes off of her but she doesn't have time for him. She's running around, helping everybody with everything till Daniel decides he can't wait anymore and drags her to the bedroom for a quickie only after that they realise that they've fucked in the newlyweds bed

Temptation Snapshot || DR3 {6}

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut WC: 1.4K F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven Snapshots: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

The Bachelor’s Party/Hen Night Vegas baby! That was the caption to the clip of Daniel arriving in Las Vegas for Scotty’s bachelor party - the two Australians 100 percent ready to unleash hell on Sin City with their close-knit group of friends. At just over 2000 kilometres away, you were boarding a private boat with Chloe in Vancouver as her hen night began far more sedately. While the next 24 hours with the bridal party was all about pampering and enjoying the beautiful views out on the water, the groomsmen were making promises to each other that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Come morning light everyone would start making their way to Venice where the big event was going down - for better or for worse. You had a feeling the boys would certainly be feeling worse.

You were utterly relaxed after a massage and a soak in the hot tub on the top deck with the girls, the stars glittering in the night sky. Chloe’s friends were an endless stream of gossip and it was hard to keep up with their exciting lives until your phone started to vibrate on your sunbed. 

“Excuse me,” you apologised as you stepped out of the warm water and saw a facetime call coming in from Danny. “Hey, I thought you would be too busy to call?”

“You should come here, kitten,” he slurred as the camera moved erratically and you heard Scotty’s laugh in the background. “Look,” he tried to pan the video around and you guessed he was somewhere on the strip from all the bright lights. “White Chapel! We could get married right now.”

You tilted your head so you could properly see what he was showing you. “You want me to come to Las Vegas and get married at a White Chapel?” you laughed with a shake of your head. “You know my dad would never forgive you if he didn’t get to give me away.”

“I just want you all to myself, as Mrs Ricciardo,” he whined as the camera turned back to his face and a chorus of whipping sounds erupted from the guys around him. “Fuck off! You’re whipped too.”

“So you admit you’re whipped,” Scotty shouted happily and the call was dropped as they started a little scuffle, more like brothers than friends.

“You have that man wrapped around your finger,” Chloe teased when you slipped back into the steaming water.

“Look who's talking,” you said with a wink and grabbed your drink, raising it up to clink it with hers. “You mastered the art first.”

“I suppose I did,” she giggled before toasting with the circle. “To our boys, and their peak golden retriever energy.”

The Wedding Day “Behave,” you warned Daniel when he tried to corner you in the hotel’s corridor. “I’m a woman on a mission so keep your hands to yourself.”

“You know I can’t help it when my kitten gets all bossy,” he chuckled as he pinned you to the wall with his body. “No one will notice if we slip away for a few minutes.”

“Chloe would, since I’m meant to be getting her shoes.”

Reaching into his breast pocket he pulled out a tiny book similar to what you would get when you bought a raffle. Licking the pad of his thumb he started to flick through the pages before humming and ripping a tab out. “Here,” he said as he tucked it into your cleavage. “That is contractually binding too, I might add.”

You fished the paper out and opened it to see it was a comical voucher for a quickie in the nearest room. “I’m sure my lawyer would agree with you,” you joked as you straightened his lapels. “Where did you even get this?”

“I may or may not have stolen it from Scotty’s presents, but I thought it would have been a waste to go to them. I know him and it would end up in the bin before they even went on their honeymoon. So?” His eyes darted to the door beside you and he wiggled his eyebrows. “You look ridiculously sexy in that dress, kitten, and it is doing all sorts of crazy things to me.”

“Well I would hate to get in trouble with the law, since this is contractually binding…”

His smile grew and he tested the door only to growl when it didn’t open, but the next one was left unlocked. “Better make it quick, baby, I have no idea who this room belongs to.”

The spike of adrenaline made you rush to lift your dress and Daniel’s belt snapped open as he shoved his trouser halfway down his tattooed thighs before pulling you onto his lap at the edge of the bed. Your bodies joined with a harmonious moan and you relished the full feeling when you hadn’t been prepared for him, something that rarely happened.

“Fuck, you feel so good, kitten,” he moaned, his hand reaching for your hair before you grabbed it.

“This took two hours, don’t mess it up.”

“Okay, okay,” he obeyed, settling his hands on your hips and using his strength to guide you up and down his cock. You didn’t have the same issue with his hair, the short curls still left untamed, so you dragged your fingers through them as you bounced on his lap.

“You look tired,” you commented before you lost all ability to think, noticing the dark bags under his brown eyes. “Did you conquer Vegas or did Vegas conquer you?”

A smirk played on his lips and he shook his head. “Sorry, kitten, the boys all made a promise. Scouts honour.”

Your head tilted to the side as you stopped riding him. “Is that how it is now?”

“Don’t stop, baby,” he begged as you started to climb off his lap. “Wait, wait, okay.”

“What happened in Vegas, Daniel?” you asked, neither pulling away nor lowering yourself back down him.

“Nothing like you’re thinking,” he muttered.

“Daniel…”

“I may have gotten a little bit shitfaced,” he admitted and you lifted an eyebrow that made him crumble. His head dropped into your cleavage as he confessed, “I was totally off my tit drunk and so was Scotty, and we may have crashed out on the same bed.”

You slipped back down his cock until you were saddled on his lap again. “That’s not bad, why were you trying to hide it?”

“Those assholes took photos of us cuddling and crying together because we missed out girls now can you please move before I start crying again.”

It was a quick jumble of words barely more than a whisper but you caught them, just, and they caught you off guard. In a split second your head was thrown back with a laugh and you cradled him to your chest.

“Fuck me, keep laughing, kitten,” Daniel moaned. “So fucking tight when you do that.”

It drove Daniel wild and he started bucking his hips as you rode him, hitting deeper with each change in the angle until your eyes screwed shut and your heart hammered. You wanted to kiss him like your life depended on it but the makeup hadn’t been set long enough and you weren’t willing to risk smearing the masterpiece.

“I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you whimpered as heat flushed your skin and you pushed through the ache in your legs from the position. Your orgasm ripped through you like a bolt of lightning.

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuuuuck,” Daniel groaned as your cunt gripped his dick like a vice and he filled you with the thick ropes of his cum. “Shit, kitten, you’re gonna kill me with that pretty pussy of yours,” he commented as you climbed off and rearranged your dress into place.

“I think you just need more self-control,” you teased as you looked around the room and froze. There on the table was the white Jimmy Choo box you had been sent to find, next to a plate of delicate handmade chocolates and a neatly written card dedicated to the newlyweds. “Oh shit.”

Daniel looked up from his belt he had rebuckled and saw you grab the shoes from the box, his eyes taking in everything as he came to the same conclusion. “Oh shit,” he laughed, biting his knuckle as the sound grew. He looked back at the bed and quickly swiped a hand across the blankets to smooth out the indents of his ass. “That bed is getting some action today.”

Taglist {1}: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @andydrysdalerogers @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smut #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

[kairolee2004]

I feel like this would be impossible but— HEAR ME OUT!

Imagine if- as a young child, you lived in Texas and had a close friend that you would even consider your best friend. Thomas Hewitt..

And when your younger teenage years came around, your parents moved you out of Texas and all the way to England.

You live there still in your mid twenties and decided to get a job. A Nanny job to an English family by the name of the Heelshires. Of course you thought is was for a real child but it turns out the nanny job is to take care of a life-sized porcelain doll. The two parents tell you that the “doll” is named Brahams… Supposedly, the real Brahms perished in a fire 20 years ago, and he had apparently rejected several nannies prior to being introduced to you. As Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire leave for their vacation, you are given a list of rules to follow in regard to their son.

Turns out, the bastard wasn’t dead but better yet, living in the walls and stalking you. He had become obsessed and in love with you. How couldn’t he? You were so damn perfect and gorgeous… you needed to stay forever. He tried to keep you all to himself. But you got away with only one suitcase.

You tried to think of a place where you know Brahams would never think to try and look for you. Somewhere completely different from where you were right now… how about Texas?

Making your way all the way back to Texas, you decide that it wouldn’t hurt to see some old family. And head on over to the Hewitt family house. When you arrive, you of course see Luda may and charlie (Hoyt) but you don’t see Tommy anywhere. You ask about him to Luda May and she calls for him… you weren’t ready for what you saw.

Tommy wasn’t the same old little boy who was shorter than you, smaller than you, quieter than you- no.

This was a full grown ass man with 2 feet towering over you and more than 200 pounds of muscle to over power you. And when you say he was “quieter than you.” You meant it. As kids he didn’t talk much and now he still didn’t say a word. It was his eyes.. yelled and screamed with ruthlessness. His eyes seemed as if he saw stuff. They weren’t innocent like they used to be. If looks could kill, you would have dropped minutes ago.

Yet his actions spoke other wise. When he first saw you, he was stiff, kinda like when a bull walks around in a china shop. With the intention of not breaking something so precious and fragile. He didn’t want to break you.

Next thing you know, your body without mind, walks towards him and hugs him. He is stunned for a second before he engulfs himself around you. In a protective manner, a way of saying ‘I’m not letting you go…’

You felt off when you hugged him. Sure it was nice when you saw your childhood friend once more but then again… he wasn’t at the same time. This place was different, this family too. They all were dark souls that were covered with a normal family persona. It was wrong.

Luda May promised that you could stay one night and in the morning you could hit the road again. You felt no reassurance behind those words.

As you got ready for bed, you opened the one suitcase that you took from the Heelshire house, you were frightened… you had some clothes in there and some essentials but one thing was out of place. Brahams porcelain mask. You knew how much this mask meant to him… and he would do anything to get it back. Even if that meant going 4,669.21 miles just to get it back.

Later that night in the bedroom, as you were about to fall asleep, you heard blood curdling screaming coming from the basement. As you made your way down from your room, you saw a young woman burst through the basement door and she was covered with blood. Not far behind her, followed Tommy. He looked at the pathetic women, then at you. He looked terrifying… you didn’t move, only stared.

The young woman screamed at you for help, that was until Tommy revived his chainsaw and killed her with it. This couldn’t be real- right?

Reality hit when all of a sudden, Tommy came over to you and held the side of your face softly. And looked into your eyes. He didn’t want you to be scared of him.

You over lapped your hand over his and held it without saying a word. Slightly leaning into his touch. He helped you stand up and held the back of your head, with the other hand on the small of your back.

You let your head lean against his chest. This was wrong on so many levels… you both knew it. Yet it didn’t stop both of you. This was a silent moment needed.

Well… that was until you heard his voice again. The fear of which you knew was bound to come once more.

“(Reader), Why did you leave me?” Brahams child voice appeared right behind of Thomas. When he turned around, he was there. Brahams of course didn’t have his mask but rather yet, pieces of the porcelain dolls face glued together. It was a sight to behold.

Both men stared at each other… you couldn’t tell what they were thinking but you could definitely tell what was about to go down.

Oh no …

Could you imagine that?

I swear! These two men got me by the throat- ;/;

I absolutely adore these two masked men, and I mean come on how could you not!?! <333

#x reader #slasher fucker #slasher community #slashers headcanons #slashers #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #tommy hewitt #brahms heelshire x reader #brahams heelshire #slasher imagines #my obsession #daily thoughts #I LOVE THOMAS AND BRAHAMS!!!

[sturniozo]

Savage Love Part Eleven

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

masterlist

“He has what?” Emma says on the other end of the phone call. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not!” I tell her. “And now his brothers are here and I can’t leave!”

“I told you being with him seriously was a bad idea.”

I sigh. “I know, I know. But he… he seemed so nice. He didn’t seem like he-“

“I told you he was a Mafia leader, y/n.”

I look at the door of Matt’s bedroom to make sure his brothers aren’t listening in on me.

“I saw the photos and I closed the door. His brothers came home and I can’t go in and look again to investigate.”

“You shouldn’t have quit the article, this is big.”

“Emma!” I whisper shout into the phone. “I have more important things than that right now!”

“Well how do you believe me that he’s bad news?”

“Yes, okay, yes.”

“Good. Now, you need out of there.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last hour?!” I ask in a loud whisper.

“His brothers are where in the house?” Emma asks.

“Downstairs somewhere.”

“Do you think you could climb out the window?”

I pause. “What?”

“Climb out the window. Do you think you can?”

“Give me a moment.” I mumble as I look over to the window. I’m only on the second floor but the walls are so high that it seems more like the third or fourth. “I don’t think I can swing that.”

“Something that doesn’t make sense to me though.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Why would he leave the key where you would find it? It’s like he wanted you to find it. Like he wanted you to see-“

“Yeah that’s been bugging me too.” I sit down in the bed and scratch the back in my neck.

“Do you think you can look in there again? Without getting caught by Huwey and Luwey?”

“Maybe…” I get up and go back to Matt’s office. I pick up the key and then creep to the hallway.

“Go to face time.” Emma says and I switch the call to face time. Emma’s face appears on my screen and I shush her to make sure she doesn’t speak and get me caught.

I look down the hallway and down the stairs. Chris and Nick are downstairs doing whatever, which gives me the chance to look back in the room.

I change the camera from front to back to show Emma the room. I unlock the door and open it slowly, flicking on the light before slowly closing the door behind me to make sure Chris and Nick don’t catch me.

“Oh my god.” Emma says.

The room is filled wall to wall with photos of my ex boyfriend, my old boss, and basically any person that’s ever wronged me in my life. A big red X over my ex boyfriend’s face.

“Does the X mean…” Emma says.

“I don’t know…” I whisper.

“I’m gonna check to see if anyone’s heard from him.”

“Emma…”

“I’m screen recording. Do a full pan of the room.” She says.

I slowly move my phone camera around the room to get every part recorded.

“Good, now get out of there!” Emma whisper shouts and I shut off the light, and creep out of the room. I lock the door behind me and quickly walk to Matt’s office to put the key back where I found it under the desk.

“Get out of there, girl!” Emma says and I quickly make my way to the window.

“How do I get out?” I whisper to her.

“You’ve seen movies, tie the bedsheets together and climb out!”

I nod and run to the bed, pulling off the sheets and starting to tie the corners together.

“God, this is so difficult with silk sheets!” I complain as I tie the corners together. I double tie them just to make sure they down slip out of their hold.

I open the window and throw the sheets out, the tie the end to the bedpost. I slowly climb out the window with my phone in my back pocket. I scale down the wall slowly and carefully. The sheets don’t make it to the grass but make it just far enough to where it wouldn’t hurt to jump. I slip to the ground and fall on my back.

I take a second to catch my breath before getting up and starting to run to the driveway. I didn’t think this far ahead. He lives in a mansion miles away from anything. I don’t have any of the keys to his cars and even if I did he’d find me.

I sneak around to the front and make sure to hide away from view of Matt’s brothers. I rush to the driveway and start running as fast as I can.

I start to loose my breath after running for a long time. It felt like hours even though it was only a few minutes. God I wish I didn’t skip my gym classes in high school.

The sun was going down when I had called Emma a little over an hour ago, and now it’s almost fully dark out.

Before I could reach the main road, a car comes driving up the driveway. I gasp and step back. It’s Matt, I know it.

The car stops right in front of me and Matt steps out.

“Hey, doll, what are you doing out here?” He asks as he walks over to me. I step back to get away from him and he stops, looking at me confused. “What’s wrong, baby?” He asks.

“I… I saw it.” I say softly.

“Saw what?” He asks me.

“The room. The room with… with the photos, with the-“

“Dollface…” Matt steps closer to me and I step backwards to keep him at a distance.

“You left the key where I could find it, you wanted me to find it, you wanted me to know.” My voice tremors as my body begins to shake.

“Yes, you’re right, but I only wanted you to know I’m protecting you from them.” Matt steps closer to me again and I step backwards again as well.

“What did the X over Bennetts picture mean?” My voice cracks as I ask.

Matt stays silent. He sighs and then says “Get in the car babygirl.”

“Is he okay?” I ask.

“Just get in the car.”

“Did you kill him?”

Matt sighs again. “After what he did to you, he’s lucky all I did was kill him.”

I stand in shock in front of Matt. I’m unable to move as he steps closer to me. “It’s alright, baby, I’ve got you.” He says as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his car.

My heart races as I’m unable to move by myself from the shock. Matt opens his car door and sets me in the passenger seat. He goes to the driver seat and starts the car back up.

After a bit of silence I say “What did you do to him?” In a whisper.

Matt sighs. “I did it for you, babygirl.”

“Tell me what you did to him.”

“Y/n-“

“I will jump out of this car if you don’t tell me.” I threaten.

Matt chuckles. “I’m going 20, you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

“Matt, tell me what you did to Bennett!”

Matt groans and shakes his head. “If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t leave me.”

“Leave you?”

“I don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“You killed him! You killed him and you don’t want me to leave you? To think of you differently? You don’t think I will?”

“I did it for you!” He shouts back. Matt’s hands grip the steer wheel tighter. He takes a deep breath. “You think you know him but you don’t. When I first saw you, first fell for you, after our first time together, before that even. When I left that hotel room weeks ago for the first time I knew I wanted you. So I looked you up. I looked up everything I could find about you. I saw you dated him, Bennett Cassidy. I read about what he did to you, I saw the messages he screenshotted and sent to his friends acting like you were some toy instead of a human being.”Matt says calmly.

“Matt…”

“You don’t know who he is.”

“He was my high school boyfriend.”

“Oh he is so much worse than that. You have no idea darling.”

“What did you do to him?” I shout.

“Do you want the fucking details?” He snaps through his teeth.

I flinch and stare at him in shock.

“I’m- I’m sorry princess.” He says and puts his hand on my knee. I move my knee away from him and he frowns, putting his hand back in the wheel.

“Matt I want to go home.” I say calmly.

“You can’t.”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“Is it too uncomfortable? I can get us a cozy cabin or-“

“I don’t want to be with you.”

Matt stops the car and looks at me. “You can’t do that.”

“Matt you killed him.”

“I did it for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that, I’d never ask for anything like that!” Tears form in my eyes.

“Y/n you can’t leave me.”

“Get away from me-“ I open the car door.

Matt opens his door and runs after me, taking my arm. “Don’t go, please don’t go.”

“Let go of me.” I try to pull away from him.

“Y/n please, don’t make me do this!” He begs and my breath hitches.

“Do what? What are you going to do to me?” I try to pull away from him again.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He says. He pinches my neck and everything goes black.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon00 @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @sturniolosreads @timmyscomputer @iloveneilperry @chrisloyalgf @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @nickmillersn1gf

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt imagine #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo edit #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #nick x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x fem reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #chris sturniolo oneshot

[theemporium]

🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

can we pretty please get something with Daniel and Sunshine where Sunshine finds and rescues some type of fluffy animal. And we’ve seen recently that Daniel isn’t really animal person so he’s SUPER skeptical about it. And the of course they bond and Dan become a total pet parent.

thank you for requesting!

.

“What is that?”

Daniel had tried to persuade you to join him and Max at the bar they were going to that night, a bunch of other drivers and friends joining them for a little catch up amongst the winter break between seasons. 

You had appreciated the invitation but told both boys that you just wanted a simple night in. Daniel offered to stay in with you, but you waved him off and told him to go have fun with his friends. You pressed a kiss to his cheek and shooed them both out of the flat, telling them to give you a call if they needed you to pick them up before you shut the door. 

Around half an hour later, you had the strongest craving for ice cream and found yourself slipping on one of Daniel’s hoodies and some trainers, making your way towards the grocery store nearby before it shut. 

And that was when you found this little guy, alone in an alleyway on a cold, rainy winter night.

“It’s a cat, mate!” Max exclaimed, quickly moving away from Daniel’s side as he made his way over to the living room floor, where you were currently sat. “And it is adorable.” 

“He is,” you cooed as you gently stroked the head of the small black kitten you held in your arms. You had already bathed him and fed him some canned tuna you had stored in the kitchen somewhere. And now, he was fast asleep in your arms, purring away.

“Babe,” Daniel sighed, slightly exasperated.

“Danny, he’s a kitten!” you argued, already hearing the doubt in your boyfriend’s voice. “He was abandoned! Did you really expect me to leave him?”

“No but,” he let out a small huff. “I don’t know, you could have taken him to a shelter!”

“But I’ve already named him,” you said with a pout.

“What’s the little guy’s name?” Max whispered excitedly, smiling down at the small kitten you placed in his arms.

“Max, stop encouraging this,” Daniel grumbled.

“Shut up,” he muttered back in response, far too focused on the small bundle of fur in his arms.

“Salem,” you stated proudly. “Like the cat from Sabrina the Teenage Witch.”

“This is ridiculous,” Daniel murmured, the three beers he had now just making him incredibly tired and done with the whole conversation. 

Daniel had tried to persuade you to take the cat to a shelter or even a vet in the morning, but both you and Max instantly disagreed. He had tried over the next few days, but the answer always remained the same, but the Aussie didn’t seem eager to accept his fate.

He always kept his distance from the little cat, letting you buy him what he wanted and caring for him. He watched your shared apartment slowly accumulate a number of cat toys he didn’t even know existed—most that you had bought, the others brought by Max himself. He pretended that he didn’t care, that he didn’t want the cat because he didn’t. 

At least, that was what he kept telling you.

You had gone out to grab a few necessities from the shops when you entered the flat a few hours later, dropping off the bags in the kitchen and heading through the rest of the flat to investigate the unusual silence. You could have sworn Daniel told you he was staying in today.

However, you fell short when you entered the living room, only to find Daniel fast asleep on the couch, the kitten he was so insistent on not keeping curled up next to him and he had a hand protectively on its back like he was scared it would slide down his chest.

You bit back your grin, taking a quick picture of the pair before you swiftly left the room, feeling all too victorious that the small kitten was starting to win Daniel over as you sent the picture to your accomplice.

mad max: I KNEW THE FUCKER LOVED SALEM

.

#daniel ricciardo #formula one #f1 #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[spidervee]

in which jake is your roommate and ruins all your dates. accidentally. accidentally, right?🌻 18+ only!

Jake Seresin isn’t an ideal roommate. He sings in the shower at 5 a.m., he can’t load a dishwasher to save his life—seriously, who puts mugs on the bottom—and he has a habit of walking around shirtless that is beginning to interfere with your love life.

Of course, he’s got a lot of good qualities. He’s a surprisingly good cook, with a recipe for chicken and dumplings you’re pretty sure is the best thing you’ve ever eaten. He’s also got that Navy-mandated tidiness, so the apartment you share is always vacuumed and dusted. And he has a habit of walking around shirtless, which, as appealing as it is for your eyes, is…

Yepp. Starting to mess with your love life.

Because guys see Jake making a smoothie in the kitchen or getting back from a run or literally doing anything and decide they have to have some stupid pissing contest with your roommate, who remains, you think, entirely oblivious to how threatened he makes the men you bring home. Because why would he see them as a threat, right? He’s so far out of your league that your dates have nothing to worry about. Jake Seresin could pull any girl he ever wanted so why would he want you?

You’re almost grateful he’s deployed—despite your usual worry for his safety—when you bring a new guy home from the bar. No Jake means no weird energy and maybe a chance to actually let a relationship get off its feet.

Until he comes out of the bathroom and you’re smiling at your phone because Jake sent you a text, a photo of the two of you at the beach from last year. One of those iPhone memories that apparently made him think of you.

This came up on my phone yesterday. Miss you, sweetheart. Don’t burn the place down. Oh and I’m safe in case you couldn’t tell.

Your date isn’t thrilled to see the photo, even though he asks to. Tells you it looks like you’re a couple—as if—and that Jake seems really comfortable touching you—he’s just a touchy person.

The night ends with some mediocre sex and, despite his words to the otherwise, your date never calls you back.

You try not to blame Jake, but it’s hard not to see him as the root of all your woes in love. And if you’re not mad at him, you’ll have to analyze why he’s accidentally ruining every date you’re on and maybe you’ll have to admit that it’s because none of these guys actually measure up to Jake.

You’d have to have the startling realization that you are hopelessly in love with your roommate.

So when Jake comes back a few weeks later maybe you’re cold. Maybe you’re quiet. Maybe you’re keeping to yourself and maybe you tell him to fuck off when he keeps asking what he did wrong.

You move to storm out of the apartment and it’s all very dramatic, but Jake stops you with a hand grasped firmly around your wrist. It’s not rough, but determined, and he pulls you gently closer to him, his green eyes burning with confusion under furrowed brows.

“What was that?” His skin is sun-kissed and he can’t tell you where he was deployed but you know it was somewhere warm from the way the few freckles that dot his nose are more prominent than usual.

“Fuck. Off.”

Jake blinks, undeterred. And then he stares at you, gaze so focused you feel like you’re a target in one of his stupid training exercises. You want to shy away, but when his other hand comes up to wipe away the tears you hadn’t realized we’re gathering in your eyes it all comes out. All your weird and messy feelings that will certainly ruin everything and make it so you need to find another place to live.

But when you’re done talking, Jake just frowns. He pulls you impossibly closer and rests his chin atop your head. “I’m sorry, sweets,” he mutters, “But I’m glad I scared those guys off.” He doesn’t add that he was totally doing it on purpose as often as he could—things are still too fragile for that. One day he’ll tell you. And on that day, he’ll receive a face full of chocolate cake as punishment.

But for today, he just lets you sniffle in his arms, holds you close as you put a wet spot down the front of his t-shirt. “They’re not good enough for you,” he continues, “I just helped them realize that sooner rather than later.”

“Jake,” you complain, “You can’t keep doing that. I need…I want to find someone.”

His frown deepens and he places his hands on your waist, tapping your hips lightly to warn you that he’s going to pick you up. Carrying you into your bedroom, he sighs. “Fine. I’ll stop, if you give this guy I know a shot.”

“I’m listening.”

“He’s Navy,” Jake continues, “And he’s got a killer body.”

“Definitely listening,” you laugh, but try to ignore the pang of hurt that is Jake setting you up with one of his friends.

Jake rolls his eyes and takes a spot beside you on your bed. “He’s a great pilot, some say the best. And he’s a gentleman, Texas-raised so he knows his way around a kitchen.”

Oh. Oh.

“Jake…”

He holds up a hand, not willing to be interrupted. “And he’s shit at loading the dishwasher, sweets, but I know he’d be willing to learn.”

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin #jake seresin blurb #jake seresin drabble #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader fluff #hangman x reader #hangman x you

[wilbursoot-updates]

Lovejoy is in this article!

Wake Up! Lovejoy are already a phenomenon

Squashed into a tour bus somewhere in Berlin are the biggest band that – unless you’re as chronically online as us, Dear Reader – you’ve maybe never heard of. With sold-out tours across the UK, Europe and North America, millions of monthly Spotify listeners and a spot in the UK Top 40 with their latest single ‘Call Me What You Like’, Lovejoy could be mistaken for veterans.

Far from it. Their first proper bit of press is, well, this very cover interview. They’re gearing up to release only their third (or maybe fourth, depending how you count their just dropped ‘From Studio 4’ collection, released under the name Anvil Cat) EP, ‘Wake Up & It’s Over’, and those sold-out tours? The first shows they’ve ever played. It’s rare this amount of hype surrounds a guitar band these days, so who the fuck are Lovejoy?

Formed during the early 2021 UK lockdown, Lovejoy consists of Will Gold as the frontman, Joe Goldsmith on lead guitar, Ash Kabosu on bass, and Mark Boardman on drums. Seemingly brought together by sheer luck, their epic ascent is the result of a lifetime of individual hard work and some serious fan devotion over the past couple of years.

It’s taken a while to pin the band down, and we catch them just after their first full UK tour as they embark on the European leg. It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind.

“I think it was our 32nd show yesterday, which is just nuts,” says Ash, who introduces himself as the one who doesn’t talk and proceeds to lead the interview. “Literally every show we’ve played, we’ve been like, ‘That was the best one!’ Then the next one, ‘Oh, that was the best one!’”

“I’ve especially been enjoying acclimating myself to not knowing where I’m going to be falling asleep every night,” says Will, “which is a very hard thing to get around. But it’s a lot of fun. I’m really enjoying it. And I love seeing everyone’s faces because we’ve been somewhat of a lockdown band. To now be able to put faces to the numbers is great; it’s lovely to see and speak to them.”

Describing their very first live shows at the end of 2022 as “teething”, Lovejoy admit they’re still getting to grips with it all. Although the size of their fanbase means they could’ve easily sold out bigger venues than the humble Electric Brixton they headed up on this tour, they didn’t want to skip steps for a good reason.

“Rock music has always been what me and Joe were the most interested in” -Will Gold

“We didn’t want to be bad,” says Ash, frankly. “It’s a completely different ballpark to just, you know, playing guitar in your bedroom, and there are so many moving parts and so many things you don’t think about that you need to learn and understand. We didn’t want to deliver a show to the fans that wasn’t good enough, so we’ve been deliberately ramping it up step by step and going through the process as naturally as possible.”

“It’s so much more personable and fun to make mistakes in front of a crowd of a couple hundred people who are along with you for the ride than when you start to get into the larger crowds,” adds Will. “Making a mistake, at least for me, really gets to me, but if I’m in a room with less people, and they’re there for the story, I feel more ready to make mistakes.”

Will and Joe cut their teeth playing with a folk punk band a few years prior to Lovejoy forming. After what Will describes as a “very dramatic first gig”, they went their separate ways, but his lust for live never went away. Finding one another at the beginning of the pandemic, Joe came to visit Will before the lockdowns kicked in and decided to sleep on the sofa rather than risking taking public transport back and forth to London.

“We wrote our entire first EP in my basement and very quickly decided we’re going to need a drummer and a bassist because all the stuff we were writing was band stuff,” Will explains. “It wasn’t our normal folk stuff that we were used to – and rock music has always been what me and Joe were the most interested in; even when we were in that folk band, we used to implore the lead singer if we could write some indie music please, and he would always be like, nah, not really into Arctic Monkeys actually.”

So they set out to find both a bassist and a drummer. Fate did its thing, and upon walking into a Smashburger in Brighton, Will met Ash, bass guitar in tow, and asked him if he’d like to be in a band.

“Ash is not one to say no to many exciting adventures,” says Will, “so he said yeah, and I gave him my address. Joe was very sceptical at first when I said I found a bassist in a burger shop.”

“I think for me personally,” adds Ash, “I’m living in Brighton – which is kind of a young, creative place – you often have conversations in pubs and places where people are like, we should do this, we should do that, and I genuinely thought that this was just another one of those conversations. Like, ‘Hey, I’m in a band, do you want to play?’ I never thought in my wildest dreams anything would even come of it. I didn’t even think we’d practice, let alone be playing shows in front of thousands of people.”

As for Mark, he was booked for the day via the freelancer hiring website Fiverr. When they couldn’t pay him the fee he was owed, they instead offered him a spot in the band. 

“I said, look, you’re sick at this, do you want to just join the band?” Will explains. “Mark thought about it for a good five seconds and then said yes.”

“I was really determined, playing acoustic guitar and learning stuff from YouTube and Arctic Monkeys songbooks” -Joe Goldsmith

Echoing Ash’s sentiments, Mark recalls, “I thought it would be another band that I’d join that wouldn’t even release on Spotify. Now we’ve sold out tours in the UK, Europe, America….”

Life before Lovejoy was very different for most of the boys. Mark was at university studying editing, hoping to work in visual effects, letting drumming take the back seat. “It would have been a grind for like 40 years to get a good paying job, and Will came along and saved me. So I’m very grateful for that,” he says.

Ash was working in broadcasting as a producer for TV, a job he’d gotten into after studying film production at uni, and had taught himself animation as another means of income. “Unlike Mark, I actually enjoyed it,” he adds.

As for Joe, he was working as a tree surgeon, which is a flashier-sounding name than what the job actually entailed. “I was literally just cleaning up branches on the floor,” he says. “I wasn’t even allowed to go up the trees.”

Will isn’t such a stranger to the spotlight, as he edited for the YouTube channel SootHouse in the late 2010s, later creating his own channel as Wilbur Soot and amassing a sizeable following on the streaming platform Twitch (although the other boys say they had no idea about his following when they joined the band, Ash noting, “I just thought he was quite a tall, handsome man, we’re just here because we fancy Will”).

With the band assembled, they started recording together in Will’s bedroom. In early 2021, the UK was still firmly in lockdown, so with all studios closed, it was their only choice. When they finally made it to a studio, the group had two days to record five songs, the ones that would make up their first EP, 2021’s ‘Are You Alright?’.

“We didn’t get enough done,” says Will, “which is why the first EP actually has scratch vocals. We just used my draft vocals that are then doubled up and thickened out. And also because it would have been far too expensive to just keep going back.”

“Which is why, little easter egg,” adds Ash, “some of the lyrics are wrong. We don’t sing those anymore, so the fans get very confused when we perform some of the earlier songs.”

The whole journey has been a learning curve for all four members. With none of them coming from a proper musical background, there was no one to guide them in the process. “We kind of had to jump headfirst in and see what we can do off the back of it,” says Will.

That isn’t to say they haven’t put the work in, though. With each of the boys picking up their instruments in their childhood or teenage years, it feels like they’ve been setting up their own individual dominoes, hitting the ground running when they were knocked down in perfect formation.

“There’s a photo of me when I was a baby,” Mark begins, explaining where he got his start in music. “I couldn’t even walk, and I’m on my auntie’s lap, who originally taught me drums. I’ve been wanting to play since I could speak, basically, but we could never afford a kit. And then I got to about eight years old, my parents finally got me an electric drum kit, and my auntie started teaching me. I caught up with her quickly, which was crazy. I always wanted to be in a band, but I was thinking more realistically, it’s the same odds as becoming a famous football player or something like that. Then along came these boys, and it all changed.”

“I was really determined from when I was about 13, 14?” Joe recalls, “Playing acoustic guitar and just learning stuff from YouTube and Arctic Monkeys songbooks, working out tabs and things like that. I was pretty dead set on at least giving it a shot to try.”

Ash’s start was similar, learning to play guitar with his dad. “When I was very young, my dad found an old Spanish guitar in the attic of our family home that wasn’t ours,” he tells us. “I’ve kind of always played guitar, and I’ve always been interested in music; my dad is in a band as well, bless him, doing dad rock. It’s always been a part of me, but I never ever thought I’d do anything with it.”

“Not for me,” Will jumps in. “The minute I first started learning guitar, I was like, this is what I want. When I was a teenager, I used to follow around bands and go to all their shows, and I knew from that moment I want this as my creative outlet. This is where I want to put my creative energy. I literally remember I shut myself in my room and practised guitar for like ten hours a day in the beginning. I missed two summers doing that. To finally be in this position I’m in now, thanks to all the wonderful support we’ve gotten from people, a lot of them have come across from the YouTube space, is just absolutely humbling. I’m trying to give it back in any way I can.”

“I like to make rumours amongst the fan base; we’ve made up a bunch of nonsense” -Ash Kabosu

It’s fair to say Lovejoy have been pulled substantially further up the ladder by a deeply devoted fan base, but that’s part of what makes their trajectory so exciting. There hasn’t been a new guitar band that’s had venues bursting at the seams like this for a long time. Just two self-released (on their own label Anvil Cat via AWAL) EPs, debut ‘Are You Alright?’ and follow-up ‘Pebble Brain’ garnered enough love to have fans queuing around the block for hours on end when the live shows finally came. It’s reminiscent of what 5SOS were seeing at the start of their career ten years ago, or that other numbers band.

And the devotion goes both ways, too; Lovejoy play games with the fans, leaving puzzles on social media for the fans to solve, firing confetti with QR codes printed on every other piece out at their London headline show. Their involvement hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“Oh, man, I love them,” Ash gushes. “One of the best feelings for me is when we create something, even if it’s something as simple as a little photo shoot, the response is incredible. And to inspire other people to create through our creativity is just so rewarding. My favourite part of it is seeing the writing, the poetry, the paintings, the drawings, like all the art that comes back to us is incredible.”

Joe adds, “Every single person that I’ve met after a show or before a show, they’re all so respectful and all so lovely. And they’re just so generous.”

Ash continues, “They make such an effort and go out of their way to listen to the support bands’ music and show up for them; they show up on time and fill the place out for everyone. And then they go crazy jumping around and singing to everyone’s music, and that’s just so fucking cool.”

With new EP ‘Wake Up & It’s Over’ on the horizon, it’ll be their first proper release since 2021. A break away from recording to do the touring part of being a new band has led to Lovejoy’s longest writing phase yet and has played a part in shaping the sound of their new material. This time around, being able to take more time to record and more studio options, they’ve fined tuned their sound and brought it closer to their personal ideal.

Aiming for something a little heavier this time, the boys wanted to pull in their individual influences more drastically. For Will, that’s shouty British lyrics and overdriven guitars (he calls Arctic Monkeys the most famous example), with Ash also growing up on the late 2000s indie of Foals and Bombay Bicycle Club. Mark, on the other hand, was introduced to bands like Bring Me The Horizon and Asking Alexandria by his sister at a young age, pushing him into heavier territory when it came to discovering his own tastes and allowing the band to take on the slogan of ‘the only indie band with a double kick drum’. (Joe simply adds, “In the words of Brandon Flowers, it’s indie rock and roll for me.”)

Opening track ‘Portrait of a Blank Slate’ pulls in those influences most brazenly, employing the mathy Foals-y lead guitar, ‘Favourite Worst Nightmare’ era Arctic Monkeys fiddly bass, and wordy vocals a la The Wombats. “I can’t wait to play that for thousands of people,” says Joe.

They’ve been road-testing some of the other tracks too, the poppier (see: jumpier) ‘Consequences’ and ‘Warsaw’, as well as the single ‘Call Me What You Like’, but the rest have been kept a secret, one track particularly well.

Initially beginning the recording of this EP late last year, the boys weren’t 100% satisfied with the tracks. Having already played some of the tracks live, fans developed a particular affinity for one called ‘It’s Golden Hour Somewhere’, and up until the EP drops, have been under the impression it isn’t going to be released.

“I like to make rumours amongst the fan base,” says Ash, “I sort of said yeah, it’s scrapped, we just don’t like it, it’s not up to scratch, it doesn’t fit the nature of the EP, blah, blah, blah. We’ve just made up a bunch of nonsense. And they’ve bought into it. And as I expected, they’re also campaigning to bring it back. We’ve seen signs at shows saying ‘PLAY GOLDEN HOUR’. It’s just a bit of fun, and I think the relief and the excitement they’ll feel on the day that it comes out to just see it in the tracklisting will be worth it. I think for the amount of time that the fans have been waiting, we want it to be as special as possible.”

Even with ‘Call Me What You Like’ landing at No.32 on the UK Top 40 – an enormous feat and a rarity for a new band these days – it’s still what the fans think that means the most to Lovejoy. 

“It was very validating to see it go that far,” says Will. “I think that was our longest-ever lyric writing time; we had the tune down for about ten months before I even penned the lyrics that ended up going in the final release. To see that time pay off is amazing, but we had no idea it would get that reception. It’s more important that our fans really love what we’re putting out. We’re aiming to create music that will really connect with our fan base, and you know, we’ll give them back what they’ve given us.”

With formative years that any new band would dream of, a knockout first tour and an audience hungry for more, Lovejoy are keen to maintain the hype. Currently using soundcheck time to write new material, every spare hour is used wisely while they’re on the road, Ash hinting they’ve already got new songs saved up for when they return home. This summer, they’ll be hitting the festival circuit, playing Reading and Leeds for the first time and undoubtedly not the last. The path may not be fully paved yet, but it’s definitely leading somewhere exciting.

Will says, “We’ve felt that wave of energy from the audience singing our words back at us, and that’s really influenced my lyrical style and our music instrumentally, which took a lot longer. 2022 was a sort of foundational year; I feel like this is the launch in 2023 into this next era of Lovejoy.”

#thanks for spending actual money on this one mia lmao #lovejoy #wilbur soot #ash kabosu #mark boardman #joe goldsmith #articles #dork magazine

[saerins]

─── 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.7k | content: angst, an alternate ending for this fic: whole

notes: for @veraberaxx who requested for this !! i know some of you guys would’ve stayed with nagi okay <3 he’s such a precious one here

summary: sae rarely knows what he’s doing when he comes to you. and sometimes, by the time he figures it out, it’s all way too late and you’re too far gone.

sae remembers you better than he can make sense of. you, and every little thing you do.

how you overcook your eggs in the morning when he’s on video call with you. how you make his bad days so much better without even having to try because you’re the only person in the world who can make him laugh. how your hands feel against his cheeks when you’re admiring him in that cute way you do.

god, he misses you. and he’s never been able to understand why people constantly feel the need to be around each other physically until now.

a conversation that was supposed to be a pastime haunts him.

“you sure it’s what’s best for her though?”

sae blinked, having no clue what his captain was even alluding to. “what are you talking about?”

his captain sighed, leaning back against the door, crossing his arms. “i mean, she’s probably waiting for you right? to go home?”

of course you are. you’re always waiting for him. what was his captain going on about?

“are you ever going to?”

is he?

he finds himself stuck; he’s not sure. there’s the part of him that yearns for you, that wants you around, that wants to live somewhere where you can be by his side.

“i mean, i could ask her to move with me.” it was a valid option, right?

his captain shook his head. “dude, then what happens if you break up? she’ll have uprooted her whole damn life for you, moved away to some faraway place.”

it was something he couldn’t find a response to. and maybe now he’s regretting not having more experience in this field because what’s he supposed to do? he wants you, yes. he wants to make this work, yes.

but can he? he doesn’t fucking know.

sae’s horrible at this.

how does he do this? how can he speak normally to you after all the thinking he’s done? he wants to be with you, really. but how can he be when you’re so far away? when he doesn’t know when or if he’ll come back?

“sae, you there?”

he’s pulled back into the present when you call his name. he can’t even remember what you were talking about before he zoned out.

“yeah, sorry i’m here, was just tired,” he offers, aware that he’s been tired a lot lately. but you keep believing him, maybe because he is but not in the way you think.

physically, yes maybe. but it’s not something he can’t tolerate. but mentally? it’s the biggest toll he’s ever taken. and as much as he doesn’t want to, maybe he can’t keep doing this to you. can’t keep stringing you along with him, with his unsureness and his doubts.

“i- look, i-i know it’s hard but we can—”

fuck, this is way harder than he thought it’d be. hearing your voice crack is enough to make him lose his mind. which is why he does this swiftly, can’t have you swaying his heart when he’s made up his mind.

maybe he should’ve chosen a better timing to break up with you than in the locker room right before his next game. it’s stupid, yeah, but he knows if he doesn’t get it done now he’s just going to delay it until he doesn’t even want to do it anymore.

sae’s phone vibrates right after he hangs up, and he feels his heart breaking into pieces reading your message.

you don’t want me anymore, sae?

he does. he really does. but he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with this, with himself, with you. he really wants to keep you forever, but he can’t.

maybe it’s pathetic. and maybe it’s an excuse. but maybe if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

he hopes it will be.

it’s stupid, stupid, stupid. it’s so fucking stupid.

sae does it anyway.

he types nagi seishiro into the stupid google search because just who is this guy, anyway? he’s a little peeved about having your stories with him pop up all the time.

“just don’t watch it, stupid.”

“fuck off, rin.”

as if it was that easy.

scores of articles pop up in his phone, all relating to how nagi seishiro is soccer’s next top genius or upcoming star player. sae feels a scowl on his face as he presses into one of the article headers—nagi seishiro, bachelor no more?

and there it is, a picture of you and nagi walking down the street, hand in hand and sae wants to kill himself right now. nobody else is supposed to be intimate with you like that, and he had thought he knew what he was signing up for when he broke up with you so evidently he thought wrong.

but he isn’t given any time to heal a broken heart, and he thinks he deserves it anyway because it’s his fault that the both of you are where you are in the first place, so maybe he’ll just have to keep on living like this, with half his heart displaced and his devotion always wavering.

sae’s almost sure he can keep this game up—this game of ignoring your existence. it’s the only way he’ll make it out of this alive. but one day he’s bound to slip up.

and that happens to be tonight, when he’s tipsy and forlorn.

your number’s the first one he calls as he sits on his balcony, admiring the view that’s pretty lacklustre without you in it. barely five rings and you pick up.

but it’s not your voice.

“hello?”

by his guesses, it’s nagi. sae has to look at the clock on his phone. it’s 10pm in spain, which means it’s 5am in japan—and nagi’s the one picking up your calls?

“um—”

sae’s rehearsed countless situations of what he might say when you picked up depending on your reaction, but how was he supposed to know someone else was going to pick up?

what the fuck is he supposed to say to your boyfriend?

“oh,” nagi says, voice fading away slightly before coming back. “you’re itoshi sae.”

“yeah.”

“y/n’s washing up right now,” nagi tells him, carefree. “want me to tell her to call you back?”

“no, that’s fine.” because there’s no need for that. because sae’s going to dig himself a hole and lay in it. you probably won’t be able to reach him.

nagi says okay, and sae thinks he’s about to hang up when he hears him ask a question, “do you still love her or something?”

“no.”

nagi hums, “you’re a terrible liar. why would you be calling her at this timing then?”

“wrong number.”

“still terrible.”

“okay bye.”

“wait—” nagi calls out just before sae hangs up and he pauses for a while. sae can hear you humming in the background before you fade away again. it’s torture, really.

“what do you want?” sae sighs. he’s tipsy and in no mood to talk to anyone but you.

cruel, cruel world.

“if you’re not done with her,” nagi sighs too, because both of them would rather be talking to you than each other. “maybe you should tell her.”

sae’s just a little taken aback because why is your boyfriend telling your ex to talk to you with such intentions?

“don’t get me wrong, i’m taking better care of her than you ever did,” nagi says, getting on sae’s nerves, “but she thinks you hate her. and i really don’t like to see her sad.”

sae feels his heart dropping to the ground.

“i’d like to tell her that you’re so in love with her that you’re still calling her at 5am, but i’m not gonna.”

“you’re weird.”

“maybe,” nagi compromises, “but at least i’m not the stupid one who let her go.”

after a long pause, nagi resumes, “it’ll be too late soon if you don’t speak up.”

and then all sae can hear is the dial tone, and all he can feel is misery.

sae didn’t realise what nagi meant by it being too late if he didn’t speak up soon. that’s why he’s now running across the airport like a madman, it’s why everyone and everything drowns into the background, like they’re half-muted and swirling together.

in his bid to forget you, he’s been avoiding going on social media at all. he’s gone complete radio silence on everyone except for his teammates. he’s been so far less of himself that even his own brother is tired of trying to reach out to him.

it’s been several months since then.

maybe it’s a cruel joke that’s playing on him now; the day he comes back online, the day he decides to take nagi’s stupid advice—you’re already engaged to him.

you’re about to become mrs nagi soon and sae’s really never going to forgive himself.

it’s funny how easily the realisation comes to him; how he can never get over you, how he should’ve never pushed you away. he wants your good morning texts and your goodnight kisses, your bad cooking because he’s worse at it. your laugh, he wants to hear it next to his ear while you’re both about to fall asleep. everything about you—he wants it.

and he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing right now, he’s running on pure adrenaline. he’s not even dressed for a wedding—not in his black sweater and black slacks. but fuck this, he thinks, stealing a cab from someone else, he just needs to see you. has to.

it’ll be too late soon if you don’t speak up.

nagi was long ready to propose to you. he probably already had a ring by the time sae got up the guts to call you.

it’s 1pm and he doesn’t even know if you’ve said your vows yet. he can’t remember anything rin told him over the phone and now his brother isn’t even picking up. nobody’s posting anything online either, fuck.

doesn’t help that his cab driver’s a foul mouth with an equally foul temper.

“could you drive faster?”

“oh sure, why don’t i just tell all the traffic lights to make way for little prince over here?”

sae sinks into the seat. today is really not his day, but he’ll screw the universe before he lets it tell him that he shouldn’t be doing this.

it’s 1.23pm by the time sae reaches the church, and the tall black doors never looked more intimidating. it looms over him, and he’s almost afraid to open it. but he has nothing more to lose except for you—so he opens the double doors anyway, runs down the corridors until he’s at the right hall; and it’s too loud the way he flings the doors open, the way the silence rings in his head when everyone in the room turns to face him.

sae’s only looking at you though, and even from this distance he can see your gaze fixed on him—like how everyone else’s is—and then the hushed whispers start to come but he doesn’t care for that. he catches rin in the crowd too, wide-eyed and with that what the fuck are you doing stare.

it’s clear that sae has no clue what he’s doing, why else would he be crashing a wedding he wasn’t even invited to? but his gaze turns back to you and sae freezes in the middle of the aisle, cheeks and nose red from the cold and he can see the sorrow in your eyes as you hold nagi’s hands.

sae opens his mouth until he catches you shaking your head, and then he stops. that’s when you break his heart to save him the further humiliation.

you turn back to nagi and smile the sweetest sae’s ever seen you smile.

“i do.”

sae would’ve already gone home if rin hadn’t stopped him. he would’ve been on the first flight back to spain by now but instead he’s here, at your wedding reception, entertaining rin’s friends.

“not my friends,” he grumbles, but it sure seems like it.

entertaining these guys isn’t his first choice, but he supposes it’s much better than watching the videos they’re playing of you and nagi’s time together up until now.

“hey, can i borrow him for a while, you guys?”

it’s cruel how you ask him to follow you, how you invite him to the dance floor. how he has to put his hand on your waist and know that it’s not leading to anything more, that you’re not his and you never will be.

“so, what do i owe the pleasure of you gatecrashing my wedding?”

you look beautiful. you smell pretty. you’re everything he wants.

sae doesn’t answer. you already know it anyway.

“sei told me,” you say, still not looking at him. “about how you called at 5am that one time.”

“oh, did he now.”

“mhm,” you nod your head and sae catches a whiff of your shampoo. his favourite. everything about you is his favourite. “you know, i wanted it to be you.”

sae looks confused and you chuckle, and god how he’s missed hearing that. “i dreamed of us being the ones to say i do, for a long time actually.”

he doesn’t know what to make of this, doesn’t know why you’re telling him all of this. he especially doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s the same for him.

“lucky for you it’s not me, then,” he chokes out, looking across the room at nagi, who nods at him. sae thinks that at least you ended up with someone who really seems to care about you.

you laugh nervously, “yeah, lucky me.” you’re soft, like you’re not convinced, but sae knows better than that. you’d never go through with it if you weren’t sure.

but she thinks you hate her. and i really don’t like to see her sad.

“i don’t, by the way.”

for the first time now, you look at him. “huh?”

“i don’t hate you, i never did,” sae explains, painfully aware that this is neither the time nor place but he doesn’t think he’ll ever see you or talk to you again so it’s now or never.

and you smile, and he loves that. loves you.

“how’s he treating you?”

“sei?” you turn to look at your husband, grinning from ear to ear when you see that isagi and reo are messing about with him. “he’s perfect.”

sae begs to differ. you are, that’s all he knows.

“good then.”

“what, are you planning to beat him up if i said no?”

“no,” sae scoffs. “but i’d steal you away.”

for a moment, your head lays on his chest and the way his heart beats brings you back to the present, to the fact that sae is someone from the past and he should stay there.

“so what now, itoshi sae?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him, an invisible line drawn between the both of you.

sae shrugs, and he knows what time it is. “back to spain, back to soccer, i guess.”

no longer back to you.

he now has an answer to his captain’s question.

“i’ll see you around, itoshi sae.” (you think you’d still have to watch his games when he plays because seishiro watches them. even if he says it’s a little disturbing that the one doing so well is your ex-boyfriend.)

“are you ever going to?”

no, he can’t go home anymore. it doesn’t exist.

sae nods. and he manages one last smile, a subtle one, a soft one, the one you’re so familiar with, the one you’ve been missing all this time. you press your lips together to stop yourself from smiling.

sae remembers you, and every little thing you do. especially how you manage to slip away from him, the only love he ever knew.

“sayonara, y/n.”

#itoshi sae x reader #bllk x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae angst #sae angst #itoshi sae imagines #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x you #sae x y/n #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi x you #blue lock angst #blue lock imagines #૪ aeri’s fics !

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HIHIHI I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM AND I SAW THAT YOUR WILLING TO WRITE FOR AMANDA YOUNG BUT IF YOU DONT FEEL LIKE IT THATS COMPLETELY OKAY ALSO!!

Can you do jealous Amanda x Fem reader? Somewhere around reader and Amanda having a complicated relationship and reader is an apprentice. Another apprentice flirts around with reader and Amanda doesn’t like it at all :$ Also some NSFW but if your not in the mood for it you don’t have to add it!

I hope you have an amazing day 😋😊

I love writing for Amanda!!!! I'm so happy to be getting more fem requests because I am a gay mf. Anyways on with the story.

-In the event that Michael Marks survived, he has became an apprentice. Michael Marks. Yknow, the key in the eyeball guy. So, let's begin.

A Deeper Understanding

Warnings: Literally nobody getting along, Jealous!Amanda, Cursing, Threatening, Fingering, Domish!Amanda, Getting Caught

John Kramer had collected quite the assortment of a team. He hoped at least one of you would continue his legacy perfectly. He'd make sure before he died that he'd live on through the lot of you. You were all currently at the workshop, bullshitting about random tests and other people you were interested in "helping". There was about four of you there, Dr. Gordon couldn't make it, like usual. Michael Marks had been your second choice, Gordon has always been your first.

His eyes traveled down your body, a look that made you feel a certain type of way, not a good way. He was your partner though, so you gave him the benefit of the doubt. "I'm glad everyone is here," John smiled a thin smile, Jill stood across from him, eyes trained on his every move. You knew that it'd been hard on her since his diagnosis. "I need your help with the scalping seat, I'm not sure it'll get done on time." He took a pause, "I've had some other things to tend to, my apologies."

He hadn't been looking at you, you weren't the mechanic of the group. John looked to you for ideas for traps. You had a knack at creating a symbolic test, one which would change the looks of the masses. Michael stepped forwards, eyes lingering on you for too long for someone who had just needed to build a trap. "I used to work as a car technician before Homeward Bound," He said, bending down and looking through the gears. "Unless Hoffman can do better." Hoffman wasn't much for Michael, he stayed silent.

"Nobody wants you to touch anything, you hardly beat your test. I don't know why John even wants you here because you're obviously not even serious about him." Amanda stood from her spot near John, she walked forwards and towered over Michael- only for Michael to size her up. "What are you even talking about?" He barked, his chest puffing. "Amanda calm down, we need to finish this trap. Brenda's test is what matters." John corrected her, his composure was always impenetrable. "No John! Have you seen this guy? He's been eye-fucking Y/N since we got here!"

Amanda's fists clenched as she yelled back at John. She seemed ready to blow a fuse, and you were thankful for it. "As far as I am concerned, He has not said anything to Y/N that has made her uncomfortable." "But-" "No, we'll deal with him later, we have to focus on the contraption now, we'll deal with him later. I need you to act level-headed if you're going to carry out my legacy." Amanda huffed, speeding past the group and into the hallway. "Amanda!" You yelled after her, jumping down from the table and following after her.

You found yourself in a grimy hallway, off to the side was an opening to what you presumed was where Amanda had went off to. You stepped forward, watching as the curtains to the archway swayed back and forth. "Amanda?" You called, and she opened the swaying curtains as you stood in front of them. "Finally got enough of Mr. Fuck-me eyes?" You shook your head. "We're not... doing anything." She nodded, stepping away to move back to a decaying workstation. You saw she had her reverse bear trap on the table, she seemed to be fixing something wrong with it.

"What are you doing to it?" You wondered, she glanced over at you for a moment. "John gave it to me to fix, fucking Hoffman took it somewhere and it broke." She gulped. "I hate this thing, but I'm about finished." Amanda was grumbling as she fixed her trap, she seemed elsewhere and you could tell that this was a coping mechanism for her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, and with a sigh she sneered. "I just don't understand why Michael is even here, he hardly completed his test and he's an asshole y'know?" Her voice elevated, and she turned towards you. "He's awful and I just don't understand why he can't leave you alone!" Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening as she stared right at you. "Uh-" But you cut her off, hands coming up to hold her face. It happened to turn out that she would be the one to press forward and kiss you. She only let it escalate from there when her hand moved to reach under your shirt and pull you flush against her chest.

Her nails dug into the plush of your stomach skin when she picked you up and placed you on the workbench, shoving the bear trap off to the side. Amanda placed kisses on your collarbone as you worked to pull your shirt off, and in the heat of the moment she found herself dizzy with lust. She had been dreaming about this moment since you joined the group, and she thought she might've entered her dreamworld when you finally got your shirt off. "You're fucking perfect," She mumbled, the androgynous tang of her voice flowed through your core and straight between your legs. You opened them right up.

Amanda leaned forward, tongue landing flat on your nipple and sucking at it until it pressed hard against the pad of her tongue. With her left hand, she groped you passionately, and she praised how you fit in her hand perfectly. You had leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the top of her head as she pushed your skirt up and over your ass, eager to get where she had wanted to touch most. You blessed her with it, gripping the edge of rotten wood when she hooked her long fingers inside your heat. "Shit..." She mumbled, her left hand dropping your tit to push you back by the stomach. You stumbled back against the wood with a whine, biting onto your left hand as the other gripped her wrist.

Amanda watched with an intense gaze as you moaned into your hand, she was more than interested, her left hand moving to rub circles on your clit as she fingered you. Your hips pushed against her fingers, desperate to feel more of her as she pleasured you- you knew her thoughts of Michael Marks were gone by now, her gaze enraptured by the way your cunt sucked her in. She felt herself becoming devoted as she listened to the gasps and whimpers you released of her name- you felt the same.

She began to kiss your hips as your legs shook around her fingers and your whines became more noticeable. Amanda gathered she had to be doing something right, her ego inflating as you rode her hand. "You're doing so well Y/N," She whispered, the fingers on your clit speeding up. You cried out, "I'm so close..." yelping when she pushed her fingers deeper and shushed you. You felt your insides clench and twitch, legs spreading wider as you held her wrist against your sex- whining out a flurry of "Thank yous," While you finished on her hand.

Finally, you leaned back down, huffing against your hand. You reached out to maybe grab her, and she reached to pull her shirt off. Unluckily, she didn't make it far when you heard Michael open the curtains, halfway through his sentence. "I'm sorry Amanda, I didn't- oh!" His eyes landed on you, and you yelped, flailing to cover your body as he stared.

Amanda's lip twitched in annoyance, pulling your skirt down with a little bit of attitude. You knew it wasn't directed at you though. "If you do not get the fuck out of my office, I will literally blow your brains out Michael."

And he turned around, scurrying down the hallway. Amanda turned back to you, giving you a happy kiss on the lips. "Maybe we can arrange a date this week?"

#Saw x reader #Amanda Young x reader #Amanda Young x reader smut #Saw x reader smut' #horror x reader #horror x reader smut #slasher x reader #slasher x reader smut