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hier--soir · 6 months

Text

ripe

pre-outbreak joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: a night out with old friends helps you and joel realise what’s been missing in your relationship. warnings/tags: pre-outbreak, set in the early 2000s, early thirties joel my lover boyy, bisexual reader, established relationship, that one shit stirring friend, brief alcohol consumption and piv sex at the onset, brief masturbation [m] in the bath, a little ass eating and fingering, a little spitting, pegging, dirty talk, praise, dildo is described as "your cock" multiple times, reach around hand job you will always be famous, they talk each other through it, the word hole is used 11 times but it feels like 100, also they're in love okay bye. word count: 5.3k masterlist a/n: this is being posted as a part of the PMAMC organised by @wannab-urs ! if you wanna read more glorious pegging fics for pp characters, a masterlist of everything being posted this week will be shared by gin soon! <3 x much thanks to @bageldaddy for holding my dick while i wrote this, for the edit, and for reminding me that where there is gape, there must also be affection x

Oil Can Harry’s is dark and loud; packed enough that condensation drips off the walls around you and makes the hair at the base of your neck frizz.

Packed into a sweaty booth, Joel’s flannel amidst all the glitter and hairspray and fruity cocktails of the drag night makes you grin. Your oldest friends fawn over him, endeared by the way he talks, the way he stands, the way he looks at you.

He smiles, warm and sheepish as they regale him with stories from years ago. Blushes when they remind him that he’s the first cock in a long line of cunts. Squeezes your knee beneath the table when they assert that he must be doing something right to have been kept around this long.

He settles in fast, lips slick and eyes glazed. Stops flustering while ordering Wet Pussys and Cock Sucking Cowboys, but still raises an eyebrow when a friend asks you, isn’t there anything you miss about it?

About what?

Dating women.

You roll your eyes, the sharp tang of vodka beneath your tongue as you shake your head. No.

S’not all that different, Joel offers up, smiling easily. Right?

So you tell him, No, and then, I mean, it is. But good different.

But your cheeks have gone hot, eyes downcast as you sip a pink drink and try not to think about what exactly you miss. But Joel, fingers firm on your thigh, knows. He always knows.

So later when you’re in his bed, thighs pressed flush to your chest and he’s sinking inside your wet heat, it’s clear he isn’t letting up that easily.

“You jealous?” he hums, elated and almost taunting, revelling in the way you sound as he fucks you. “Miss being the one fuckin’ someone this good?”

“Oh fuck off,” you whine, breathlessly embarrassed, gripping his shoulder and rutting your hips up against his, chasing the high that’s already tingling in your stomach.

“Naw, I want you to tell me.” He leans in, all ears for the dirty confession waiting to spill from your lips, loving it. “You miss your cock, baby?”

His hips press deeper, and the confession leaves your lips in a gasp. “Yes, fuck, okay yes I miss it.”

“Mm, you gonna show me it sometime?”

You feel your face go slack, stomach tightening at the thought, and Joel pushes further, harder.

“Yeah baby, that’s what you want,” he goads, reaching between your bodies to press his fingers to your clit. “Want to fuck me, yeah? Bend me over and show me how much you miss it?”

You come with blood rushing in your ears and your hand gripping his ass, mind a blur of images of you being the one fucking him.

The next morning, sorely hungover and still tangled in his bedsheets, he asks if you were serious.

“Serious about what?” you ask, throat hoarse, eyes still closed.

His hand slips down your back to grip the flesh of your ass, the tip of his middle finger pressing dangerously close to your asshole until your eyelids crack open and you look at him. Brain ticking over, catching up slowly, eyes widening when you understand his train of thought.

When you don’t respond, head pounding and heart racing, he says, “If that’s what you want I’d—”

But caught up in the moment, in your own bashfulness, you interrupt him. Face warm at the idea of him having to placate you the morning after a drunken confession, you kiss him and say, “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Joel goes a little quiet, but kisses you back with fervour. Sucks your lower lip into his mouth and rolls on top of you, not letting you get out of bed until well into the afternoon.

It’s not until a month later that it all finally becomes clear.

The house is oddly quiet when you get home.

Your living room is lit up by lamps across the space, but the television is off, and the couch cushions look undisturbed.

“Joel?” you call softly, stepping into the kitchen, pausing in confusion when you don’t find him there either.

You drop your purse on the counter and rifle through it for your phone, pulling up your text thread with him to reread his messages from a few hours ago.

You staying out late?

Not tonight, AJ has work early tomorrow. I should be home by 9. Meet me there? x

Perfect. See you at 9 x

The clock on your microwave reads 9:24 but you can’t hear a peep from anywhere in the house. Not a creaking floorboard or a shower running or even a snoring boyfriend.

“Babe, are you here?”

Nothing seems amiss at all until you reach the bathroom and find the door slightly ajar, light spilling out into the hallway as soft little sounds float out to your ears. Quiet murmurs punctuated by water lapping against porcelain.

“Joel?” You crack a knuckle against the door, careful not to nudge it open without his permission. “You okay?”

A rough inhale sounds behind the door and you pause, heartrate spiking a little. But then his voice calls through the wood, a little stilted as he says, “You can come in.”

Joel Miller hardly fits in your bathtub. All the times he’d joked about trying to squeeze in there with you, or when he’d come over with a sore back but insisted on a shower instead. But seeing him now, torso submerged in the water, muscled legs propped up against the wall with his hand resting between his thighs… you certainly aren’t complaining to see your broad boyfriend cramped up in your bath, touching himself.

“Hello there,” you murmur, bending to press a kiss to his sweaty temple. The tips of his curls are damp, frizzing around his ears as he smiles up at you. “Indulging yourself tonight I see.”

“You got no idea,” he replies, chin tilting upward as he stares you square in the face.

You smile at his flushed cheeks, at the muscle in his bicep flexing as he touches himself. Your gaze follows the veins in his arm, the flick of his wrist, but when you look into the water you pause. His cock is a rich red colour, hard and throbbing where it rests, neglected against his stomach. His thick fingers disappear past his balls, curling slowly out of your sight.

“Joel,” you exhale, face warming as you watch, slowly understanding. “Are you…?”

A harsh stream of air bursts from his nostrils as he meets your eyes, cheeks burning hotter by the second.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he admits gruffly. “Not since that night at the bar.”

“Fuck,” you shake your head, frowning a little. “I thought you were just… Joel, I’m sorry I brushed you off that night—”

“Naw,” he tuts quickly, brushing the apology away with a jerk of his chin. “I should’ve said.”

There’s a brief silence, your brain racing to catch up, a slow smile slipping across your face.

“Read that a bath helps,” he says then, gaze heavy. “Soft and loose the website said.”

And whatever you’d been about to say, whatever thought was bubbling in your mind, slips away in an instant.

In its place, just a bone deep, aching love for this man. It’s clear in his eyes; tenderness, and care swirling in his stare. Endless brown, struck with adoration, clearly saying, I want to do this for you, with you.

Throat tight, you lower onto your knees beside the tub. “S’it feel good?”

A breath rattles through his chest, and he nods again.

You lean closer, craning your neck to try and see better. Find yourself wanting to catch the exact way he presses his fingers inside himself. How he curls them, massaging inside himself. But he notices and pulls his hand away, gripping his cock instead and grunting.

“Looked through your stuff.”

“Hmm?” You meet his eye again, mouth dry.

“The drawer in your closet,” he exhales, eyelids fluttering as he strokes himself. “Found your… I don’t know.”

“My what?”

“The harness,” he grunts out, fist tightening around his cock. The tip rests out of the water, flushed an angry mauve colour, little beads of pearly come oozing from his slit. “All the… I don’t know what the fuck you call ‘em. You know what I mean, alright?”

“Joel.” You laugh a little, endeared by how bashful he can be, even as he touches himself in front of you. “Don’t get shy on me now, baby.”

“M’not.”

“No?” You smile, voice low and breathy now, liquid heat sparking in your veins the longer the idea percolates through your mind. “So you want me to fuck you?”

“You know I do.”

“You’re gonna let me put my cock in you, stretch you out just right for me, the way I let you do to me every night?”

“Fuck.” Joel’s eyes pinch shut, fist tightening around his cock.

You reach in and yank out the plug, watching as water begins to spin and gurgle, and Joel grips the edges to pull himself up. The water drips off him in thick beads, pouring from his fingertips, down the centre of his chest, keeping the curls at the base of his cock tight and dark.

He’s over the lip of the tub in a second, crowding you against the sink with a thick arm on either side of you, wet chest darkening the fabric of your blouse, mouth slotting against mouth. Steam warmed lips smother yours, tongue snaking out to press inside your mouth, and he swallows down every little moan and gasp of excitement you feed into his kiss. His cock is warm against your stomach and his hips stutter back every time you grind the buckle of your belt against him, grinning into his mouth.

“Gonna make it good for me?” He grips your face in both hands. Tilts your chin up and smears nasty kisses over your jaw, down your neck to the collar of your shirt, skin smarting where his teeth snap at it. “Take care of me the way I do for you?”

“You know I will,” you pant, eyelids fluttering as he sucks at hollow of your throat. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”

Joel releases a wrecked, gravelly moan against your skin and then he’s gripping your arm, nudging you forward, past the threshold and into your dimly lit bedroom. The closet is open, third drawer down hanging limply out from the chest. Inside you can see that things have been shifted around, looked at. And on your bed, there’s a dildo. Heat rises in your chest as you stare at it. Thick and long and red, with a curved tip and raised silicone decorating shaft to give the illusion of veins.

Joel drapes an arm around your waist, holding you back against his bare chest. The thick weight of his cock presses against the base of your spine and you sigh, grinding back into him.

“Remembered you sayin’ it was your favourite.” He nips at your neck, inhaling as his nose presses into your hair. Your chest swells at that, and you turn your head, let your lips find his in a soft kiss.

That hand on your waist drifts down until his palm is cupping your sex through your pants, fingers pressing firmly over the inseam there. You sigh into his mouth, hand falling overtop his to keep it in place.

“It is my favourite,” you murmur into the kiss. “But we’re gonna start much smaller tonight, hmm?”

Joel makes a vague noise in the back of his throat, dark eyes searching yours.

“Don’t think I can handle it?”

“You’d be cruisin’ for a bruisin’, baby.”

Somehow, he blushes deeper than before, and clears his throat.

“Alright.”

He watches on as you dip a hand into the drawer. You gravitate to glass. Thick rose quartz with a gorgeous, rounded base. But you push it away, knowing it won’t work with your harness. You trace the length of a pretty mauve cock, ribbed for your pleasure—or his—with preternaturally large balls. Still too long. Everything too long, too thick, too much. But then you see it. Pale blue silicone, nestled beneath silk rope ties and a set of handcuffs you guys hadn’t used in in a while. You shift things away and pick it up.

Soft and smooth; it’s maybe 6 inches long with a little curve towards the end, and it’s oh so pretty in your hand. You grab a bottle of lube and turn to put them on the bed, smiling at the way his dark eyes focus on the items. So curious, so filled with desire, with eagerness to please, to let you do this to him, for him, with him. The trust on his face warms your chest and sets your heart racing.

Joel lands softly on the mattress as you reach back in. Fingers meet leather and soon enough he’s watching as you peel your pants down your legs, your underwear. Undoing the buttons on your blouse as he strokes his cock, pupils dilated, mouth hanging open. Only when you’re bare do you slip your legs into the harness, sighing as black leather tickles against your skin on the way up, and situate it around your hips. Only a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, watching him see you like this for the first time.

Pulling and twisting straps until it’s perfectly snug, you crawl up the bed to straddle his hips. His skin is warm and wet against yours, and his hands fall to your hips in seconds, wide eyes admiring the contraption fixed to your waist. He toys with the straps, eyeing the little silver fasteners, and then glides a finger around the inside circumference of the o-ring, breathing a little deeper now.

“S’nice,” he compliments, looking back up at your face. “You’re… you…”

“What?”

He shakes his head, as if in disbelief. “You’re gorgeous.”

You stare down at him for a moment; the hard set of his jaw, the strong line of his nose. Lean in and kiss him, softly this time. Whisper, so are you, against his lips and smile when he laughs.

Tapping his side, you get off and urge him to turn over. “Let me show you.”

His broad body twists, falling to land on his front with his legs bent, weight balanced on his knees and forearms. You trail featherlight fingers over his thick shoulder blades, down the strong line of his spine. Touch the little dimples at the small of his back, and then lean down to kiss them. Slowly, one and then the other. You feel his breath hitch a little and smile against his skin, landing on your knees between his calves and letting your hands fall over the muscled cheeks of his ass. Squeezing, kneading the flesh there with tender hands, and then pushing them apart, baring him to you.

“Oh,” you breathe quietly, eyes trained on the dark hair on his skin, the tight little hole between his cheeks. “So pretty, Joel.”

You sigh into the crease of his ass, fingers digging into the firm flesh of his cheeks as your tongue flicks out to glide over his hole. Still wet from the bath, he tastes like soap and warmth and Joel. His body goes tense for a second, back muscles flexing as he adjusts to the new sensation.

“Y’ain’t gotta do that—”

“I want to.”

You kiss the base of his spine again. Give him a moment to tell you he doesn’t want it, or he doesn’t like it. But seconds pass, and he stays silent, so you grin and lean down. Eyes closed now, you lick him again; soft little strokes of your tongue from his balls to his tight hole until his body goes soft and lax and he’s exhaling little sighs into the pillows.

“Fuck,” he says. “So this is what I’ve been missin’, hmm?”

You hum against him, the corner of your mouth ticking up into a little smile as you prod your tongue against his rim, urging him to relax more so you can press deeper. As he opens up for you, you squeeze his hips gratefully, fingers soft and kind against his skin.

“So good for me,” he continues breathlessly, almost babbling now, stream of consciousness pouring from his lips in between sharp gasps and low grunts. “Got the prettiest little mouth, I wish I could see it baby—fuuuck—that’s it, good girl.”

Your fingers flutter a steady rhythm over the skin of his thighs. Caressing the dark hairs there, the twitching muscles, humming when he shivers beneath your touch. The harness digs into the flesh at the inside of your thighs, at your hips, and you almost moan at the familiar bite of it. Relish in the way it pinches at your skin when you bend and raise your ass in the air, working him open around your tongue.

With your nose pressed against his skin, you lathe messy kisses against his hole. Feel the way it clenches beneath your tongue and whine, inhaling the natural musk of him as you go. Your mind a blur with soft skin and rough hair and tight tight tight around your tongue.

Drunk on the taste of him, you let your hand drift from his thigh around his waist. Float across his stomach, forefinger dragging over his belly button, his happy trail, down down until your fingers glide over the slick head of his cock. Joel jumps a little, hypersensitive, and exhales a rough moan as your fingers wrap around his length and slowly begin to stroke. With the steady movement of your hand his asshole begins to pulse beneath your tongue and so you pull back to watch it. Admire the way it flutters and clenches. Quick, so fast your mind can hardly process it, you’re collecting saliva in your mouth and letting it drool past your lips, wet and messy as it pools over his asshole. Joel’s cock throbs in your hand and he groans. You think he even arches his back a little, his entire body pleading for you to just put your mouth back on him. But you take a second; watch your slick spit turn his skin shiny and grin, raising hand to suck your fingers into your mouth and then press your middle finger against him.

The tip of your finger presses forward, working to relax that tight ring of muscle, and he exhales heavily.

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” you tell him, voice thick with want as you pull your eyes off his ass to meet his stare.

“Then quit playin’ around and fuck me.” He presses back against you and groans when your finger slips inside his ass.

“Hey,” you warn, curling it slowly inside him. So warm and tight, unforgiving at first as you try to stroke at his insides. “Slow, okay?”

“Just want to feel you.” It’s clear on his face too. Pupils dilated, vulnerability splashed across his features with nowhere to hide.

“You will,” you soothe, pulling your hand back only to work a second finger inside. Kiss his skin again. “Let me take care of you.”

He doesn’t voice any complaints after that. Too busy with his face pressed against the pillows, drooling and grunting as you stretch him out around your fingers, his tight hole clamped down around the digits. You don’t touch his cock again, too worried he’ll come before you can really give him your all, but he gives pitiful little ruts toward the mattress. Soon enough his movements become so needy, so often, that, with a pang in your chest, you figure it must be painful. You almost ask how long he was touching himself before you came home, but then he’s interrupting the thought, reaching back to grip your wrist, wide eyes pleading with you from over his shoulder.

“Alright, love,” you murmur, pulling your fingers back and nodding. “I think you’re ready.”

Resting back on your heels, you grab the dildo and work it into the ring on your harness. Checking once, twice, to make sure it’s stable, before opening the bottle of lube. You squirt some onto your fingers, some directly onto the tip of the cock, and begin working it over the length, admiring the way it turns shiny beneath your touch.

“S’a pretty cock baby,” Joel admires, cheeks flushed. He watches you over his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you stroke silicone, lube warming between your palm and the shaft.

“You like it?” He nods and your chest warms with pride at the way his eyes darken, gaze darting continuously from your face to the piece between your legs. “Well, you’re gonna love how it feels.”

A fresh pump of lube onto your fingers and you’re shifting forward, on your knees again, lathering it onto his hole, smiling at the squelch as you pump your fingers inside him and push it in.

And then, soon enough, pale blue meets dark pink. Prods and presses, soft at first, and then firmer as he relaxes for you. Lube rolls down the shaft in rivulets, pooling against puckered skin, drooling lower to coat his balls, and a low sound rumbles from Joel’s chest. When you pause, his chin ticks to the side and he peers past his shoulder to look at you.

“You good?” he asks.

“Mhm. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Joel shivers when your hand lands at the base of his spine, thumb resting in the cleft of his ass, right above where you’ve started to press the tip inside him. The skin beside his eyes tightens, and he nudges his hips back into you, almost imperceptibly. You shiver at the sight, a sharp flush of arousal sparking between your thighs as you admire the plump shape of his ass. Like a ripe piece of fruit, begging to be split open.

Joel chuckles knowingly; can see it in your eyes, the way your mouth hangs open. “Come on now. I know you’re dying for it, baby.”

You grip his hip to keep him steady, cock notched against his opening, and continue pressing forward. Just gentle rolls of your hips at first, making sure everything is wet enough, checking in every now and then. But once the rounded tip pushes inside, Joel starts to squirm. His skin is flushed a deep red, beads of sweat rolling down his back, and you stroke his skin to soothe him.

“Joel?”

“Need you inside me.” His voice cracks a little on the last word,

“Shit, okay,” you exhale, fingers tightening on his waist. Your eyes leave the side of his face, locked on where your cock is steadily disappearing into him, and you press forward, bottoming out in one fell swoop. Leather meets his skin and the sounds he makes are none you’ve ever heard before. Deep, rumbling groans that come from the base of his stomach and force their way out of his throat. Tanned fingers grapple with your bedsheets, searching for an anchor as you drag your hips back and little and then feed your cock into him again.

You curse under your breath, unable to look away from how his hole gapes around the silicone, opening up for your every thrust.

“So fucking tight,” you whisper, awed as he ruts his ass back against you. Your fingers dig into his flesh, holding him open so you don’t miss a thing. “You look so good this, baby.”

Words are lost to him though, only able to form incoherent grunts and mumbles of your name as you deliver steady, deep strokes into his ass. It’s a slick glide now, almost no resistance left as you pump your cock into him.

“Talk to me,” you urge, sweat dribbling down your temples and smearing across your neck. “Wanna know how it feels.”

“Feels—” Joel chokes out, voice a thin, broken rasp. “A lot.”

“Yeah?”

“So fuckin full,” he says. “God, you’re so good, feels—fuck, feels so good.”

You moan a little, eyes glazing over as you pick up the pace, fucking him harder, hand between his shoulder blades as you press him flat against the mattress. And those rough noises he makes only urge you on, encouraging you to press a foot into the mattress at his side and push a little deeper until he’s gasping, thighs spasming below you.

“Shit,” you whimper, face screwing up as you watch his hand drift beneath his stomach. “I knew it, knew you’d love this.”

You tug on his hips, pulling him back onto his knees so you can force his hand away and replace it with your own. Slick fingers wrap around his cock, the two of you cursing in unison at the way he pulses against your warm palm.

“Turn over for me.” Your fingers prod at the soft flesh around his hip as you pull out. You stare at the way his hole gapes open for a second, fluttering around the empty space where your cock has just been, and feel your cunt clench in response. “Please, I want to see your face.”

He lets you guide him, careful hands on his arms, his waist, until he lands on his back. A little unsure, his thighs fall apart so you can rest between them, and you give him a reassuring nod.

“That’s perfect,” you say, rubbing his thighs as you tilt them open wider, caressing his balls as you line yourself up with him again. “Doing so good for me, you’re perfect.”

And when you make contact, slipping in easily now, his stiff cock jolts and he lets out a ragged moan, reaching out for you.

Joel’s heavy hand lands on the base of your stomach, fingers twitching against the harness there.

“Wanna touch you,” he says, eyebrows pinched with need.

“I know, I know,” you murmur under your breath, smiling down at him. “Just let me take care of you, I wanna make you come like this, okay? Need to see it.”

In response he just tucks his fingers around the top of the harness, holding on as you fuck into him, hot and heavy. Long, strong strokes that have his cock twitching against his stomach, pre-come dribbling from his tip as he just fucking takes and takes and takes.

“Keep talkin’ to me,” he pleads.

“You’re taking it so well,” you say, watching him keen under your praise. The skin on his chest glows with sweat and you lean forward to kiss his sternum. In response his fingers card through your hair, holding you to him as you mould your hips against his over and over.

“I love you.” You kiss the words into his skin, mouth falling open when he groans and starts raising his hips to meet yours, thrust for thrust. “So good for me, I love you, baby.”

“I love you,” he repeats, dazed and out of it when you pull back to look at his face again. You can tell he’s close; can see it in the twitch of his fingers, the shake of his thighs. “Shit.”

And so you grip his knee with one hand and his cock with the other, pressing him open wider and stroking his length in time with your thrust. His eyes sharpen and he cries out. A harsh, high noise that makes your stomach tighten and your hair stand on end. And then he’s panting, telling you, fuck, right there, right fucking there, keep goin’.

His chest heaves below you, soft stomach moving fast and hard as you hold his knee to the side, griding your cock against that perfect little spot. Joel’s jaw pulls taut, veins thrumming in his neck as he holds his breath, seemingly fighting against the intensity of the feeling.

Your back aches, muscles on fire, but you push through, desperate to see the look on his face when he comes like this for the first time. And Joel must sense your determination, that burning need inside of you, because he locks eyes with you and nods.

“That’s it, baby,” he tells you. “Fuck me like I fuck you, that’s—shit, that’s perfect.”

Spurred on, your fingers tighten around the base of his cock and you slow your pace to a steady grind, rubbing the tip against where you know it feels best. He tells you as much, with the way his breathing starts to stutter and his nods become slow, lazy drags of his head.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, eyelids fluttering half closed. “Gonna…. fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.”

You watch the muscles in his abdomen pull tight, feel his hand land on your waist, propelling you forward to keep fucking him as his high creeps up and up inside of him, until you say let go, I’ve got you, come for me, and it all falls apart.

Thick white spurts from his ruddy tip, slicking your knuckles and painting your tits in pearly streaks that drip down your stomach. Joel’s groaning, teeth bared as his eyes loll back. The veins in his neck deep blue and pulsing, face a dark crimson as he shakes beneath you. Some of his come even lands on his own chest, and you moan at the sight, still fucking into him, trying to prolong it for as long as possible. He bats your hand away, fingers tangling tight and desperate around yours, and you watch in awe as come continues to dribble from his untouched cock. Streams of white that roll down his shaft, past his taut balls to where you’ve still got him stuffed to the brim.

“Ohh,” you murmur in delight, admiring the way his come looks on your cock, streaks of white on blue as you fuck him. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. God, you look so good right now.”

It all gets a bit too much for him after that. Fingers squeezing at your thighs, mouth twisted up as he murmurs, that’s it, baby, that’s all I got, and you ease yourself out of him, despite knowing you could probably keep milking him for all he’s worth and he’d just moan and take it because he loves you.

Instead, you watch as Joel’s legs go limp against the mattress, hovering over him, trailing your fingers softly against his hairy calves, catching your breath.

“Holy shit,” he rasps, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. You laugh quietly and press a little kiss against his knee.

A sticky mix of come and lube dribbles from the tip of the cock, dotting against his skin, and you apologise softly, fingers coming up to start removing the harness. He just smiles, body spent but eyes soft and loving as he watches you fret. Rapt beneath the weight of his gaze, you pause, cheeks aching as you smile down at him.

“Good?” you ask hopefully.

“Great.”

Pride sweeps through you and your smile only grows as you finally remove the harness, peeling it from your legs and nudging it away. You reach for his hand and he grips it between both of his, bringing it up to his mouth to lay soft kisses against your palm, the tips of your fingers.

“I love you,” you tell him again, and the feeling swims in your guts and burns the inside of your chest. It’s all you can think as he presses your hand to his cheek and nuzzles against it – that this is all you could ever hope to have and to keep. This beautiful, loving man who you want to make feel this good for the rest of your lives. He repeats the words against your skin, drowsy and earnest, and you know he must be feeling the exact same way.

“Don’t move. Let me get you some water,” you whisper, shifting to get off the bed, but he catches your wrist as you pull back, shaking his head lazily.

“Don’t go far,” Joel murmurs. “Just gotta catch my breath, alright? And then I’m gonna make you come so hard you’ll be seein’ stars.”

thank you for reading! x

#my writing #fic: ripe #PMAMC2024 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction

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drea-ms · 8 months

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WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING by KUSUO SAIKI

٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ Inspired by Laufey's song "While you were sleeping", Kusuo Saiki falls in love with you at 3:30 am, he "hates" it ( spoiler; he does not )

warnings. pure fluff. ooc!saiki i think. corny and cheesy story i thought of at 12:47 am after thinking of the guy i like. mentions of yn. grammar mistakes. from saikis pov kinda. being in love. sweet fluff before all the angst (707 angst coming soon.) i just love saiki a lot :(.

The clock read 3:30 am, and the pink haired boy still couldn't sleep, so deep in his thoughts. But, what was he thinking about? Could it be a plan to become average and leave his friend group forever or the amount of noise there is in the middle of the night that the average person couldn't hear? or maybe it's the girl with [h/l] [h/c] hair. Probably the first one, or maybe it's the last one. It's definitely the last one.

He doesn't know how he began to think of you this late, one moment he was getting ready to sleep, the other, he was thinking of how pretty you would look if he wasn't a pyschic and without his powers. He hates how you left him in this position, while you were sleeping without a care in the world, Kusuo Saiki had just began to fall in love with you. He absolutely hates it (he doesn't. he's lying to himself again.)

He just hopes it's a one time thing, that your playing mind games with him (how is that possible??? he's a god damn psychic!!) and that when he does go to sleep, that it'll never happen again. Yeah, this is just a one time thing...

It's 9:76 am. Six hours after that predicament. And he was so wrong, since that night, he couldn't bring himself to sleep without the thought of you within him, each time he did try to sleep, you were in his dreams. One way or another,you started to appear in his daily thoughts more and more often. When he was getting ready for school, everything and everywhere he went and did, you were in his mind. Like a lost puppy you were following him around in his thoughts, he absolutely hates it. He hates how when he gets to school you're there and you're talking to your friends and spot him and wave at him with your dumb smile. He hates how after class you greet him and both of you hard to lunch, he hates how you know that he likes being alone and leave him to himself, knowing well enough that he doesn't mind being with you, even if it means he's sacrificing his own time just to be with you.

And he's back at square one, the clock ticking and the time is 3:30 am, thinking of you again, how candy can't compete with how sweet you are, that the way you smile might as well be on par with Teruhashi, how your kindness and friendliness can make someone's teeth fall out. Everything about you is on his mind, and while you're sleeping again, like a baby, he's falling more and more deeper in love with you.

Sweet and Kind YN LN stuck in Kusuo Saiki's head, and he's beginning to like it, he likes everything about you, he likes how you always get him coffee jelly, even though you don't like coffee. He likes how you try to get him away from his and yours friend group just for you and him enjoy the silence for a while, he loves loves loves the idea of being your boyfriend one day.

And maybe that idea might become true. He just hopes that when it does, the both of you will be in bed together awake at 3:30 am and in love.

VAL TALKS?!? back again :3 it's been a couple of weeks but i have school and i'm busy most of the time living life and going to school:) i wrote this because i was bored and start playing mystic messenger again and i thought of the guys i like :). i'm not sure i'm back for good, but i like writing and i have a 707 angst that's being brained stormed rn so i wanna focus on that and other stuff rather than just over work myself to point where writing isn't fun anymore to me:) it'll take some time for me to come back but i'll write and post every so often :) asks are open!! send me stuff of your favs!! especially mike from the fnaf i want to write him, so send requests!!

#🌙 — val writes #the disasterous life of saiki k #saiki k #saiki k x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo

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hangesfavles · 2 months

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Nerd Hange headcanons

4.1k words. AFAB NB loser! hange x bimbo (ish)! fem reader. <3

Summary: Hange is more of a socially inept lesbian redditor gamer nerd rather than a normal ‘i’m smart’ dweeb :). These are general hcs of how you met loser/streamer Hange, things they like and relationship dynamics including you secretly eating them out on stream. <3

A/N: this is my first ever attempt at nsfw so i’m sorry if it’s bad or nondescript! also i know both of my fics so far have been for afab reader, but going forward i plan to write for a genny nootch reader just because i find it to be inclusive to wider groups of hange lovers <3 lol and last time i posted i said i never wrote fanfiction before but that was a tiny fib because i wrote shitty dumpster fire fanfics in middle school, but i’ve /srsly never tried my hand at nsfw before, but i guess there's a first for everything. pls critique me if u have any thoughts but be nice i’m sensitive. also shoutout to @abbyslev for helping me brainstorm <3 if ur reading my fanfics u probably already do, but pleaaaase follow her if u dont she’s lovely!!!! :3

Warnings: Nsfw content under my 2nd divider, sort of exhibitionism and masturbation. Not all of this is nsfw, but I’d still like for MINORS TO DNI. However, I know that you guys like to ignore those warnings, so I bolded the nsfw sections. At the very least, please don’t read the bolded hcs. Thank you & enjoy reading!

❥Loser! Hange who is in the same math course as you. When you walk in on the first day, you’re drawn to them, but not for the reasons you’d initially think. You were almost positive that they would be a decent person to cheat off of. I mean, they seem to look like they know what they’re doing, right?

❥Loser! Hange that can hear their pulse in their ears when they see a pretty girl take the spot beside them. They feel their heart rattling around in their chest as they sneak glances at you whenever they get the chance.

❥Loser! Hange quickly figures out the reason why you decided to sit next to them, rather than the other isolated chairs inside the lecture hall. But don’t worry, of course they’ll let you cheat off of them. Unfortunately, their performance starts to dip a little when they realize what you’re doing. They’re frequently under your gaze, and they can’t help it that you make them nervous :c

❥Loser! Hange that is unaware that your eyes aren’t only looking down at their answers. One class when you were copying off of them, you started noticing the way their fingers hold their pencil. How slender their digits are, that their nails are surprisingly short, neat and cleaner than expected. You also started to notice how their veins protrude slightly and move up their arm... You feel yourself biting your lip as you observe their side profile. Their cheeks look soft and pink, similarly to their kissable lips. Your eyes continue to trail over their face: their thin, ovular glasses are slightly pushed down on their hooked nose, and their long eyelashes flutter as they continue to take notes beside you.

❥Loser! Hange can’t not listen to you getting called out by the professor when they notice you copying off of your seatmates’ assignments and notes. It was rather embarrassing, but you’re just happy the professor didn’t catch you cheating on an exam and risking academic misconduct.

❥Loser! Hange nudges your arm lightly after that incident, their voice low so you both don’t get caught by the professor. "Hey, um... I've noticed you've been using my notes and uh... answers. Do you need any help with the material? I mean, like, we could study together or something! If you want." They ask you with an excitement in their eyes and voice.

❥Loser! Hange can’t even feel proud of the fact they managed to talk to you because they barely even got that sentence out, and they couldn’t look you in the eye for more than 2 seconds. But it seems like all that is forgotten when you actually agree to meet up with them. They feel a rush of giddiness, but they try not to make a fool of themself in front of you. “Right! Yeah, so here’s my number... We can plan something, er- sometime.” They write their number down, sliding you the ripped end of their notebook page.

❥Loser! Hange who feels their heart in their throat as they lead you into their bedroom. The study session started off a bit rocky and awkwardly, but the tension in the air decreased as time continued on. As much as you would like to actually learn this material to earn good grades, you find yourself wanting to earn their attention much, much more. I mean, you obviously wore your lowest cut shirt and a pleated skirt for a reason. You look up at them, calling out for them. “Hey, Hange?” You ask, smiling as their head shoots up from their notes. “Can you explain this question to me?” You ask quietly, turning around your notebook to face them. You lean closer to them, purposely displaying your breasts for them to (hopefully) ogle.

❥Loser! Hange who starts to feel like they’re being tested by a higher power. They have to physically stop themself from glancing down and making a fool of themself. They try their best to focus on explaining the math problem to you as you watch their every movement like a hawk. You notice their eyes fall on your chest for a split second, and you pounce on your opportunity to tease them further. You reach up to their face, flicking their nose up so they’re forced to look at you. “My eyes are up here, silly.” “I- Uh- Sorry, just-” Hange trips over their words as they try to formulate a cohesive sentence on the spot. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just teasin’. It’s not so bad to be stared at if it's you.” You say with a playful wink.

❥Loser! Hange folds immediately. “O-Oh... Me? Really?” They ask, their eyes widening and pupils dilating. You can’t help but chuckle at their disbelief and nod your head in confirmation. “Yes, you. Is there anybody else in the room with us?” You joke. They stumble over their words as they think of a response. “W-Well, no, there isn’t, but- y’know- I didn’t think you-” They stutter, pushing the notebook aside and gesturing their hands between the two of you. They feel their cheeks growing warmer from embarrassment as they struggle to coherently voice their jumbled thoughts. “You know, you should at least take me to dinner before looking at me like that.”

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t need to be told twice. They grab your hand with a cheesy smile, practically dragging you to their car while suggesting all sorts of restaurants that you might agree to. “Is there a certain restaurant you had in mind? We can try something totally different, like a little hole-in-the-wall joint. Ooh, but picture this: hibachi. The whole watching people cook in front of me thing usually makes me feel awkward but the food is always soooo good. Oh, or maybe we could go to a steakhouse! No matter what you choose, I’ll be fine with whatever! What do you think?" GOD they are just so excited and you find it utterly adorable. They remained true to their word and took you to whichever place you decided and paid for both of your meals. (They would have done this even if you didn’t joke about it bless their heart.) But then that first date turned into 2 dates, which quickly became 3, 4, 5, then suddenly you both forgot because anything the two of you do together is a date in your minds.

❥Loser! Hange definitely asks you out after only the second date. But in their defense, you’ve been hanging out after class as well as coming over to their house for “study sessions” that alway turned into watching tv or movies, ordering ubereats, going to the movies, walking around their neighborhood, anything but studying. You even took them to a party once. (You guys left after a half hour because Hange got overwhelmed, but you were still happy they tried something for you.) So by the time you guys went on your second “official date” they definitely felt confident that you would say yes.

❥Loser! Hange who loves talking to you about whatever game they’re playing. If it’s a story game, they’d love to explain anything you missed or don’t understand. They also would voice their predictions about how the game will end or where the story will go. If they see something predictable, they’ll definitely tell you what they think will happen, trying to impress you so when/if it does they’ll look “cool” to you. In reality though, you just find them to be geeky in the most endearing way. “Look, there’s a bunch of ammo in this room. If there’s a boss behind this door, you have to give me a kiss.” They say to you with a sly grin on their face. If it’s a PVP game, they will explain everything about what skills and powers each character has and who their favorite to play is. They’ll talk about what they like and dislike about the different mechanics, their favorite characters, parts they find tricky, etc. And of course, you sit there with a dopey smile while you listen to their rambling without interrupting, even if you don’t understand a word of what they’re saying because they’re just too cute when they’re passionately rambling.

❥Loser! Hange who loves inviting you over, even if you two are doing absolutely nothing. They adore when you watch them play all sorts of video games. If they’re playing a console game, Hange lays next to you with your head against their shoulder, your arm splaying across their stomach while your hand rests around their waist. You tend to get pretty invested if the game is story based, insisting that they can’t play it without you around to watch the next part of the story unfold. If they’re playing a PC game, you’re sitting in their lap with a skirt that does absolutely nothing to cover your body once you’re seated on top of them. You prefer to face away from them, occasionally squirming in their lap so they can feel your ass pressed against their thighs and stomach. However, you do occasionally enjoy facing them, your arms wrapped around their shoulders as your legs hang off of their gaming chair at either side of their body.

❥Loser! Hange who also loves when you’re sitting in their lap, even if they struggle to focus on the game in front of them when your warm body is pressed against their own. It doesn’t help that they can smell the perfume coming from your neck, tempting them to lean in and kiss you there.

❥Loser! Hange that can’t resist the urge to rest their hands on your thighs during a cutscene, between rounds, during any sort of loading screen or when they’re respawning. They’ll use your thighs to push your ass back and closer to their body.

❥Loser! Hange kisses your neck from behind, causing you to tilt your head and expose more of your neck for them to kiss. You let out a chuckle at how you effortlessly turned them on just by sitting on their lap and looking pretty.

❥Let’s just say... Loser! Hange finds the opportunity to quit or pause the game as soon as they can. When they eventually return to whatever game they were playing, they find it much easier to focus after you’re both satisfied. ♡

❥Loser! Hange who is also a small streamer! They probably get a few hundred people to watch them game each stream. They may not have a huge community, but their fans are consistent, funny, and always welcoming to new viewers! It’s a comforting little community. Because of this, Hange responds to their chat quite a bit and they’ve made quite a few friends with their mods and regular viewers.

❥Loser! Hange had to explain to you what streaming was. They decided that they would show you what it's like by doing a short stream while you silently watch them game and listen to them talk with their viewers.

❥Loser! Hange never technically introduced you to their fans. Not because they didn’t want to, they just knew that the internet wasn’t always kind, even if their fans are 99% supportive. They wouldn’t mention it much, but they are a little insecure about themself. They know that they treat you like an absolute princess, and they know that you adore them, that’s not the problem. The problem is that they don’t know if they’ll ever feel deserving of you.

❥Loser! Hange only mentions this to you at late hours of the night when they feel vulnerable and slightly sleepy. You spend countless late nights at sleepovers holding them in your arms and reassuring them just how attractive you find them and that no one has treated you better. They start to feel reassured more once you mention to them that you don’t feel deserving of the endless love they give or of the many ways they spoil you.

anyway back to streamer hcs

❥Loser! Hange didn’t expect you to surprise them one day in their room with their favorite takeout in the middle of a stream. You didn’t know that they were streaming and you wanted to sneak up on them and scare them >:). You slip into their room as quietly as possible, slowly tiptoeing to their form slouched over their desk. Because of the slight delay of their videocam to their viewers, Hange doesn’t get the chance to read all of the different messages of the chatters who spotted your presence and are questioning about it. You silently place the bag of food on the floor, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and kissing their cheek roughly.

❥Loser! Hange practically jumps out of their chair, yelping from the shock. They realize that it’s you pretty quickly, because no one else would hold or kiss them like that. They pause their game, swiveling around to face you with a wide smile. “Hi, baby!! What are you doin’ here?”

❥Loser! Hange immediately forgets the world around them, forgetting they’re literally live as they try to grab at your hips while they talk to you. “Mmmm,” You hum and giggle. “I just wanted to surprise you. It’s been a few days, I missed you.” You mumble before stepping back so that their hands disconnect from your waist. “Let me get some plates and napkins real quick.” You tell them before you leave the room again.

❥Loser! Hange remembers that they’re streaming, facing their viewers again to read what they missed from chat. “Chat, what do you mean ‘how did you bag a baddie?’” They say, reading some of the messages out loud. “‘How come Hange can get a girlfriend and I can’t? Life isn’t fair-’ WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” They cut themself off, their jaw dropping a little from the comments they read. The chat starts to go crazy after seeing you. Most of the messages are asking who you are, if Hange is dating you, or simply encouraging Hange to stream with you sometime officially. But of course, it’s much easier to take note of bad comments people say rather than nice ones.

❥Loser! Hange pouts when you return with plates in hand, ignoring their chat again in the blink of an eye. "I'm charming, right? and cute?” They look up at you with puppy eyes as you stand in front of them. “I'm desirable." They say those words like a statement, but it sounds like they’re trying to convince themself rather than state a fact. You hear the insecurities dripping from their tone. You promptly climb into their lap, placing a tender kiss to their cheek while your hand cups the opposite one. You progressively start kissing all over their face, and they close their eyes, giggling and getting lost in the moment. When you eventually begin moving down their neck, their eyes snap open as they remember the audience. "AAAAHHHH, I'M LIVE, I'M LIVE!" They warn you frantically, suddenly remembering again why they were a bit insecure in the first place. This causes you to jump a bit from their yelling. They swivel their chair around to face the monitor, looking at it from over your shoulder. "S-Sorry chat, ending stream a bit early today..." They say quickly, turning off their game and switching tabs to end their video. You chuckle, turning to face their camera. "Oops." you say only a few seconds before they end their stream.

❥Loser! Hange decides that they might as well officially introduce you after that incident, since they know they’ll be getting teased for it for the next few streams.

❥Loser! Hange never thought that they would be in this situation with anyone, no less you. This exact scenario had been nothing but a fantasy in the corners of their mind. A fantasy that would fog up their mind in the late hours of the night, prompting them to slip their fingers under their boxers and lightly circle their clit with their fingertips, eventually slipping them inside of their warm body. Their back would arch up off of the bed, trying their best to picture that their own fingers were instead yours.

❥Loser! Hange that noticed a sort of glint in your eyes when they asked if it was okay to stream while the two of you were still hanging out. They hadn’t been active in the past handful of days because they’ve been spending all their time with you. They just can’t deny you, especially when you both want to spend all your time with the other.

❥Loser! Hange who has to resist the urge to drool as you carefully and quietly crawl under their desk, looking up at them through your long, mascara coated eyelashes as your knees hit the slightly dusty floor...

❥You aren’t sure what came over you, but when you were watching them put their headphones on and start welcoming people into their stream, you missed the attention being on you. So decided to tease and torture them and force them to give you attention still.

❥Loser! Hange is forced to pretend you aren’t under their desk and spreading their thighs and pulling down their boxers while giving them that signature sultry smile with your matching lustful look in your eye. You bite your lip as you part their legs, moving in closer to their folds. They can feel your hot breath on their legs as you kiss, lick, and bite the plush skin of their inner thighs. For a few moments, you feel their hand rest on top of your head and stroke your hair approvingly as you start to rile them up. They can feel their face heating up a little, but if anyone in chat mentions it they just explain that their AC isn’t working properly. Even from just your breath and kisses teasing their thighs, they can feel themself getting wet, the stickiness spreading around their groin.

❥Loser! Hange melts under your touches, but they quickly become needy and desperate for more. Their resolve is always weak when it comes to you, and your teasing will be the death of them. They’re trying so hard not to whine and plead because they have to act normal and play their game. Even when your tongue finally reaches out to meet their pussy, you keep teasing them. You give them as little as you possibly can, spreading their folds with the tip of your tongue, only occasionally flicking up to their clit. You also kiss their puffy pussy lips and their clit, showing how much you love them while simultaneously subjecting them to such sweet torture. When they feel your tongue finally giving them what they wanted, their legs start to twitch slightly from the stimulation. They try their best to regulate their breathing so nothing seems out of the ordinary.

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t know how to act when your mouth starts to move faster and faster between their legs. They’ve stopped looking at their chat entirely, just trying to focus on playing the game somewhat coherently and occasionally talking about it or making a random comment without stuttering or sighing from pleasure.

❥Loser! Hange’s pussy is dripping onto their chair from all of your teasing. The combination of your tongue and their pussy makes an audible squelch as you suck, kiss, and lick up their slit and their hips move slightly, trying to keep up with the rhythm of your tongue. At this point, they’re starting to feel the knot in their stomach tighten, and they’re struggling to hold back their sounds. “Chat, I’ve gotta use the bathroom real quick-” They say, closing their webcam and muting their mic as fast as their fingers let them.

❥Loser! Hange’s hand finds its way back to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing you as close to them as biology allows. Their head falls back as they let out a shaky moan. “Ahhh.. F-Fuckk... Please, please more.” They whine, encouraging you to eat them out without fear. You can both feel how their pussy throbs with desire for attention. They’ve been impatiently craving this, so they plan to take full advantage of the fact you’re right where they want you. You pick up the pace, sloppily making out with their pussy and sucking their labia between your lips. They toss one of their legs up onto your shoulder, allowing you more access to them as the knot in their core is almost ready to release. You look up into their eyes, slurping up their juices. The way you look up at them with devotion makes them feel even better due to how much desire is in your expression, adding another layer of eroticism for them from your enjoyment.

❥Loser! Hange feels the tension in their lower stomach releasing. They sigh and moan out into the air lightly as they feel white hot pleasure take their entire mind and body. They arch themself off the chair, trying to meet your mouth even more than already possible. Their body grinds against your tongue as they shiver from the intensity of their orgasm.

❥Immediately after their orgasm subsides, loser! Hange pulls your head up by your hair, kissing you deeply and not caring that they can taste their sticky cum on your plump lips. Their free hand slides down to the back of your thigh, guiding your body to sit on their lap. Their hands are protective and possessive while you make out. They are such a softie, always wanting to cuddle, hug, and kiss after sex. They love you so much and need to let it show, it’s like a warm blanket of warmth and affection covers their heart. They see the world with rose colored glasses for an hour or two after you make them cum, honestly.

❥Loser! Hange holds you for a little while, their face nuzzled against your neck as they whisper sweet nothings to you. They’ll pepper your neck, collarbones, and face with kisses while telling you how good you made them feel. “I- love- you- so- much- sweet- heart- thank- you-” They’d say between pecks to your skin, causing you to giggle from the slight tickle of their lips moving around your upper body. They only stop their barrage of kisses when you start to push at their shoulders playfully, begging them to stop. “I love youuuu!” They say in a drawn out tone, giving your body a tight squeeze. “But duty calls, so we'll have to continue this later. Don't worry, I'll be thinking about you the whole time!"

❥Loser! Hange loves aftercare, giving and receiving, basically. They’re happy as long as you’re physically close to them <//3.

❥Loser! Hange also used to have inappropriate thoughts about you before you two were officially dating. They knew it was a bit weird to do so without you having any knowledge of it, but they couldn’t help themself. The two of you had exchanged Instagrams after your very first study session and since then, they can’t help but fuck their fingers to your posts. They try to refrain from doing so each time; they attempt to scroll past your stories as if the sight of your face hadn’t already turned them on. Each time it always ends the same, inevitably retyping your name in the search bar to revisit the photo. At this point it had to be some sort of conditioning, the way their body would react to you like clockwork. But they still feel so embarrassed to be so obsessed with you simply because you gave them an ounce of attention.

❥Loser! Hange used to imagine you in all sorts of different positions for them. You name it, they’ve probably thought about it once or maybe even twice. Sometimes they would imagine you sitting on their face, other times they could imagine you under them as they would fuck their strap into you. When Hange feels extra desperate, they like to picture the ways you would take them, perhaps you would trap them against the bed, fingering their throbbing pussy while making out with them to ensure that they weren’t too loud. A favorite daydream of theirs surrounds the different types of faces you would make as they eat you out. They yearn to see how your eyes might look down at them, pleading for them to make you cum, or how they may be shut entirely, your lips parted to sigh out with pleasure from how good they’re making you feel. They’d wonder what kind of sounds you would make. Were you loud? Quiet? Shy? Breathy? Are you the type that moans, or are you the type that whimpers? These questions had plagued their mind until they finally had you for the first time after 4-5 dates. <3

i miss hange rip hange you would’ve loved being the most nerdy loser dork the geek world ever saw.

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midnightsnyx · 10 months

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girl at home | mat barzal | part 1

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you're eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy & not really edited word count: 1.3k authors note p1: don't mind me starting a new series when i have four other wips on the go :):) i love kid fics and this idea was stuck in my head so i wrote & decided to give it a go and post it. if this does well and you guys are interested, i'll do more. authors note p2: so notes about the series: i gave the readers daughter a name because i hate writing y/d/n lol of course you can change it in your head to something else if you want :) also the last name johnson is just there so i could have a full name but we all know she'll be a barzal also thank u @multifandombabes for giving me the push to post this!! happy reading & let me know what you guys think!

masterpost

In hindsight, you should have realized that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. You did your best to avoid places you knew he would be when he was home, going to visit your grandparents or other family. Anywhere that would give you the opportunity to not be seen by him, because then you’d have to explain your brown haired, green eyed, seven year old.

You weren’t proud of your choice to keep Nora a secret from Mat but you did what you thought was right when you were eighteen, sitting on the floor of your best friend’s bathroom four weeks after you had said goodbye to Mat and staring at three positive pregnancy tests. He had just left for hockey and you didn’t want to be what held him back and as time went on, it got harder to pick up the phone so a few months after Nora was born, you erased Mathew Barzal from your life. You deleted the photos, phone numbers, social media, with the only reminder being the little girl.

And it worked fine. Until now.

Nora usually didn’t come grocery shopping with you because you always ended up taking three times as long as you normally would. Except, your sitter fell through and your mom couldn’t watch her so you had to bring her along. Which is totally fine until you run into Mat. Who has a girl with him.

So yeah, everything was fine until now.

It’s kind of comical the way his panicked eyes dart between the three of the girls standing around him. A quick glance at Nora confirms that she’s two seconds away from saying something to Mat which will not go well since the kid has zero filter.

“Hey, you’re that hockey player mama and grandma watch on TV!” she exclaims and you want to melt straight through the floor when Mat looks at you with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah?” he asks, kneeling down so he’s at her level.

“Yeah,” she confirms, and then loudly whispers: “I’m not supposed to watch ‘cause some games are past my bedtime but sometimes I’ll sneak out.”

He offers his hand and smiles. “Well, it’s nice to meet you…” he trails off, clearly hoping she’ll offer her name. You hope she just says her first name instead of announcing her full name which she tends to do lately.

“Nora,” she tells him, shaking his hand and then to your unsurprised horror, she proudly tells him her full name. “Nora Nadia Johnson.”

He keeps the smile on his face but stiffens and gently drops her hand.

“Cool name,” he says, still smiling but you can see the tension in his shoulders.

“Thanks! My first name means light and my middle name-”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because you grab her hand, abandon your shopping cart and high tail it out of the store. She grumbles while trying to keep up with your pace and eventually you just pick her up and carry her to the car.

“What did we say about talking to strangers?” you ask while buckling her seatbelt, ignoring her annoyed sighs.

“He wasn’t a stranger, you watch him on the TV all the time.”

“Have you ever met him?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and she mumbles something under her breath.

“What was that?”

“No,” she mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and giving you a look that is so Mathew that you could laugh.

“Well then, he’s a stranger.”

You leave it at that because she starts talking about the summer camp she’s starting next week. You’re only half listening, trying to get over the shock of seeing Mat and knowing he realizes that he probably has a kid you never told him about. If you were in his shoes, you would be angry so you are expecting him to show up on your doorstep later that evening but he doesn’t. Part of you wonders if the reason he doesn’t come is because of that girl he had with him but you figure if he really wanted answers, he would come regardless.

What you’re not expecting, is a text from his sister Liana. You still see his family from time to time out in public but after you essentially ghosted Mat, they didn’t really want anything to do with you. When everybody found out you were pregnant, you lied and said it wasn’t Mat’s which nobody really believed but they couldn’t prove it and you’d used your mothers maiden name as Nora’s last name so there were no ties. You were surprised that his family didn’t tell him anyways, but you thought that perhaps they didn’t for the same reason you didn’t.

To give Mat no reason to stay here and instead, pursue his dreams and go play in the NHL.

So a text from his sister is unexpected.

Liana: hey, are you free for lunch tmw?

You almost delete it at first and pretend she never messaged you, but you know that there’s no going back now that Mat saw Nora. He’s not stupid. He probably went home and asked his parents about her. So you text her back a reluctant yes and agree on a spot to meet up the next day.

Nora goes to your moms house because you’re unsure if it will just be Liana who shows up, or if anyone else does. You meet up at a Starbucks and aside from the initial tension, it melts almost immediately and the two of you go back to the big sister/little sister relationship you had when you and Mat were dating. Except now, she’s all grown up.

After some catching up, the conversation turns to the reason she asked to see you. She hesitates, picking at her nails - a nervous tick you know she does - before sighing.

“Look, everybody kind of turned their head with ‘The Nora Situation’ because it was clearly what you wanted, and it was probably what was best for Mat,” she says. “But he knows now, and he’s got questions that we can’t and won’t answer. Dad had to talk him down last night and his girlfriend went back to New York this morning.”

You wince at that, not liking that the reason his girlfriend left is because of Nora but Liana must notice because she shrugs, taking a sip of her drink.

“Honestly, she wasn’t very nice. I’m not broken up over it and Mat didn’t seem to be either.”

Okay, that is interesting.

“Anyway,” she continues, “this is Mat’s new number.” She slides a small piece of paper across the table and you gingerly take it. “I know you didn’t want to tell him, and I understand but he knows. So give him a chance, okay?”

You manage a nod and let her leave with the final word. All you want to do is take Nora and leave, to get as far away as you can but something inside you stops you from doing it because maybe Liana is right, and you should give Mat a choice. After all, you were the one who decided to take it away from him in the beginning.

So later that night, after Nora is asleep, you curl up on your couch with the piece of paper and stare at it for a good fifteen minutes. Regardless of whether or not you text him, you will have to deal with this and you’d rather it be on your terms. You reluctantly type his new number in your phone and hesitate, trying to think of what to even say. This isn’t a conversation you were expecting to have with him. You type and delete a dozen messages before deciding on something simple.

To Mathew: Hey, I guess we should talk.

You take a deep breath, and hit send.

#hockey imagines #allies writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic

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eoieopda · 10 months

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[svt as fuckboi archetypes]

disclaimer: don’t take it seriously. i was having a convo. with my sister about my truly tragic dating history, and now we’re all going to hold hands n process it together.

seungcheol: big “air mattress on the floor” energy. his gaming set-up is expensive and immaculate, but he’ll be goddamned if he spends a dime on — idk — a bed frame, for example. don’t sit on his chair, though, because it’s specifically angled for his lumbar-support needs.

jeonghan: the “i quit” dude at the show who still consistently asks to bum both a cigarette and a light. you’re not getting that lighter back, and he will not, in fact, “get you back” for the uber back to yours or the take-out he weasels out of you on the way. he’ll charm you out of caring about it, too :’(

joshua: it’s giving “anyway, here’s wonderwall”. why did he even bring his guitar to this party? you don’t know, and you’re not gonna ask because the answer will make you want to fuck him less, and you really, really want to fuck him.

junhui: the one that passes out immediately after sex, leaving you trapped in that “….should i…. leave? is staying…. fine?” liminal space. he wakes up in the middle of the night, wakes you up, and informs you that you chose wrong and “should probably head out” because he has to work in the morning.

wonwoo: the one that turns every conversation into a debate. you may have a literal degree in xyz, but he is serving fresh takes™️, so listen up, diva! the dick game is god-tier, though, so you’re just going to mentally replace the sound of his voice with a different muppet’s in every conversation and wait for him to shut up <3

soonyoung: the house guest!!! he’s going to miss every single hint you drop about wanting to sleep alone. he’s going to leave a sweatshirt in your drawer so he can be comfortable next time. he doesn’t do “one-night-stands”; he does residencies. hope you didn’t have other plans this weekend :/ (eta: i wrote a fic based on this head canon — sweatshirt season, posted 10/29/23 — which you can read here!)

woozi: he asks if he can say “i love you” during sex because it gets him hot, and then he later informs you that you can no longer hook up because things are “moving too fast”.

dokyeom: you’ve been hooking up for a few weeks, and now he’s babbling about wanting to go to xyz place with you at some point in the distant future. he says it like he’s deadass about it, then looks at you funny if you ask him to get drinks tomorrow night. good luck, charlie!

mingyu: the stage-five clinger. he’s never had a fuck buddy before, and it shows. he has no idea what this dynamic is supposed to be despite a) suggesting it in the first place, b) numerous conversations about it, and c) repeated affirmations that he isn’t looking for a relationship. but he’s PRETTY, okay??

minghao: halley’s comet has nothing on this mf. he dm’s you once a year, you have the best night of your life, then he is gone girl for the next 364. you and your friends have a bet going in the group chat to see how many consecutive months he’ll leave you on read.

seungkwan: the one that has never — not even once — asked you a personal question. that’s not to say he doesn’t talk; he never stops. you’ve learned everything about him (his home phone number from childhood, the names of all his coworkers + his thoughts about them), against your will. frankly, you’re not sure if he even remembers your name atp because he relies exclusively on a generic pet name.

vernon: he talks a big game about meeting up, missing you, etc., but when the plans are laid, he “fell asleep, i’m so sorry, i’m just now seeing this!! :(” you washed your hair for this? rip.

dino: the foster puppy!!! he’s an emotionally unavailable, certifiable mess when you get him. you clean him up, train him, and the second he gets his shit together, he’s off. he’s found his forever home, and he’s coincidentally getting married on your birthday. sorry, bestie!!

#svt #svt headcanons #ot13 #minors do not interact #jade speaks

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bebewrites · 7 months

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I promise I searched your blog, but how do you (specifically) zero draft? The post that showed up in a search of your blog was like, bullet point writing whatever is in your head for the.wip, which I think is v cool and would help me finish lofm! So I'm curious how you do it!

Oh yes, okay! I don't think I've actually explained it anywhere, but I love talking about this.

what is a zero draft?

The great thing about a zero draft is that you can pretty much make it whatever you need it to be. For me, I was having a hard time with the middle of my story. I've started and stopped this wip so many times, always getting hung up at the same part as I approach the middle. I've always had a very clear picture of the beginning and the end, but never how to get all the way through from point A to point B. My original outline had things in brackets like [character growth] and [plot stuff], but what does that mean!?

My goal was to get all the way through. So I opened a blank document, started at the beginning, and literally rambled and talked my way through the entire story. I didn't write real prose. It was all stream of consciousness. It was me describing what happens in the story as if I was telling it to a friend. The zero draft was my rubber duck. This was my brainstorming document. I used common vernacular and slang and abbreviations. There are bullet points, numbered lists, sidebars where I rambled about a scene I completely forgot to mention in a previous section. Lots of comments about things I need to include in the next draft. Literally anything and everything I thought of went into the zero draft.

A zero draft can be as long or short as you need it to be. Mine ended up being around 40k words. But I've seen other people say a zero draft is 10k to 20k words. It's really up to you! And when you feel like you've covered enough of the story to move on to the next draft.

And you don't have to go about a zero draft the way I did! Recently, an author I love and follow on instagram (Casey McQuiston) shared in their stories that when they were writing their most recent book, they zero drafted each chapter before they wrote it out. Casey said that because of this, it was first time they didn't have major edits and rewrites afterwards. So if you find yourself needing a little more structure and sense of where you're going, I think a zero draft could be super helpful!

Of course you don't have to have a zero draft, and if you've got a good sense of the plot and character arcs, you might not need one. But it can be a great way to brainstorm and figure out those things if you need to!

#zero draft #zero drafting #writeblr #writing tips #answered #kaatiba #i hope this makes sense and helps!!#am i psyching myself out about having to write real words now? yes #but i'm very excited about my wip again though #so that's helpful too

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teamblck · 5 months

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john ‘soap’ mactavish headcanons 🧼

SFW some suggestive so MINORS DNI

heart banner by cafekitsune

• munch

• The first time he cut his hair in the mohawk style was because he was fucking around while shaving his head and did it as a joke but he got a couple of compliments so it stuck

• got that scar on his chin from a dog bite when he was a little kid so that’s the reason he isn’t a fan of dogs

• listens to pop music but when asked he 100% denies it

• comes from a large family and has tons of nieces and nephews

• hopeless romantic <3

• i’m pretty sure canonically he’s a virgo but that man has aries in his chart somewhere so i’m gonna say aries moon

• is the middle child

• would like southern sweet tea just to piss ghost, gaz, and price off i am southern so this is totally not self indulgent

• would wake up at the crack ass of dawn to go for a run or work out when he’s not on deployment like a psycho

• laughing drunk. literally think’s everything is funny

• likes going out and staying in dates, as long as he gets to spend time with you

• if you get sick he’s the type to still cuddle and be close stating “he doesn’t get sick” then a couple of days later is laying in bed suffering with you

• has had only like 2 relationships in the past and a hand full of hook ups

• would be a very good bf. he’s very sarcastic and jokey but would never joke about his feelings for you

• when he was a kid he would sneak and cut his own hair until the age of like 6/7 then his mom would keep it shaved

• uses the nicknames lass/ bonnie/ darlin for his SO

• probably has an apartment that’s just plainly decorated cause he isn’t there that often

• would have a cat if he could he can have this pus-

• likes to watch football games

this is my first time posting anything i’ve wrote so any criticism or feed back would be appreciated!! the next one that will be posted will be about gaz!!

this was written on mobile so if it’s weird let me know!

EDIT: i posted this without reading it like an idiot

and realized i there was some typos. i think got them all but if you see any let me know!!

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agendabymooner · 5 months

Text

about names: the show and tell || cl16 scenario (3)

dad!charles leclerc x mom!ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

EXTENSION OF OF LONG LINES AND NAMES AND THE LECLERC DAYCARE

Summary: The Leclerc boys and their names go hand in hand. OR times when Charles and his wife Aimee had to explain that their children’s names are meaningful.

Scenario summary: PJ Leclerc’s kindergarten class calls for a family name show and tell — and who would make better presenters than his Uncle Pierre? OR the middle Leclerc child learns more about his namesakes as he and his parents continue to develop his school project.

Content warning: Uncle Pierre Gasly, storyteller!Pierre, a very cooperative child (?), kids being kids, wholesome content, using a no-no word once, PJ Leclerc (OC) centred, appearances of Alain and Anthoine Leclerc (OC), brief appeaarance of Toto Wolff and Tilly Wolff (OFC), dad!Charles 🔛🔝

Note: I'm sorry I dipped y'all 😩 it's been hard- I've been trying to write but for some reason everything's going bad. In the meantime, enjoy this scenario xx

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

With his nose scrunched up in concentration, his hand gripped the jumbo-sized pencil and traced over the dotted letters shakily. Close. He was so close.

He squinted slightly before pausing, looking around for a moment before he continued to pursue his goal— get this over with. And with a dot, he grinned at himself before turning to see Mademoiselle Julie approaching his table. His peers continued to work on their take-home handbooks, while he was the first to finish his writing.

Mademoiselle Julie, the young homeroom teacher of his kindergarten class, wordlessly peered at his handiwork— shaky writing traced over the dotted lines — and beamed at him proudly as she complimented, “Bonne écriture, PJ!” Good writing, PJ!

“Merci, Mademoiselle Julie!” PJ Leclerc continued to show his set of teeth, proud of himself for being complimented by his teacher.

Mademoiselle Julie spread out the sheets of stickers that she held, showing the various kinds of colourful stickers as she asked, “What would you like for your handbook today?”

The boy hummed quietly, his hazel eyes skimming through the sheets on her hands as they gleamed in joy. “McQueen, please!”

“Oh? Cars?” Mademoiselle Julie chuckled before peeling the glossy sticker off its sheet, sticking it on the reminder writing that he wrote down today. “Your papa will like that, don’t you think so?”

It was no surprise that everyone knew who PJ’s father was. Charles Leclerc continued to be a household name— one that was born and raised in the principality of Monaco that later on became Monaco’s pride. You weren’t from Monaco if you didn’t know who he is— and you were a disgrace if you didn’t understand his legacy and you live in Monaco. So for Mademoiselle Julie to mention PJ’s father wasn’t anything new.

They treated the Leclerc children as generational royalties but respected them as kids in the same community as others. Charles got himself as involved as he could with his children’s education even if there was an ongoing season he needed to attend and participate.

Normalcy was what he lacked in other parts of the world, being a Formula One driver and all, whereas he was nothing but a son of his mother, a father of five kids and a husband of his children’s mother in the principality.

His career was often mentioned in conversations, but that was only because his children were some of the proudest kids to have existed. They’d tell others that their father would take them driving and that their father was a driver — and they had every right to say so. It was a discussion that was welcomed but never encouraged to rub in the faces of the children.

“No!” PJ giggled. “Da loves Lotso!”

“I thought you liked Lotso?” Mademoiselle Julie brought up.

“Yeah, but Da loves Lotso too! Me and Da loves Lotso!”

“Well, maybe you can get him and your Maman to love McQueen too, PJ. Tell them you got a Cars sticker. It’s red like your Da’s car, no?”

“Mon amour,” Charles called from the children’s study room, his face showing curiosity while he carried his youngest son, little Alain, in his arm while the other held an opened handbook. “Aimee?”

One of their eldest kids, Jules, tugged on Aimee’s trousers lightly, “Maman. Da is calling you,” he announced quietly, turning back to his homework as Aimee looked up from the screen of her laptop. The Leclerc matriarch smiled gratefully at Jules before standing on her feet, departing from the family room across the hall to meet Charles halfway through.

“Charles? What’s happening?” She asked, only for the aforementioned man to raise the handbook slightly. “That’s PJ’s handbook.”

“Yeah, and it says that there’s an email being sent today about an event,” Charles furrowed his brow. “Did you receive anything?”

“I did, actually— I was going to mention it after dinner but it must’ve slipped off my mind,” Aimee watched her words carefully — not wanting Alain to hear her words, “fuc— silly Lando.”

“Siwy Wando!” Alain mimicked.

“Exactly, darling. Silly Uncle Lando,” the parents laughed.

“Work again?” Charles chuckled as Aimee rolled her eyes at the comment.

“Try working behind the scenes and have drivers that refuse to be trained in the media,” Aimee responded with a huff, “not that you’d understand— you’re just as dense as Lando and Oscar at times.”

Charles only laughed and shook his head. “Seriously, you were saying something about the email?”

“Right,” Aimee nodded. “Julie sent an email today to the guardians about a presentation project for PJ’s class. It’s a show and tell.”

“Oh,” Charles uttered, “that should be easy. We did that with Hervé and Jules before.”

“It’s not even just that,” Aimee added, “Julie’s a new teacher and Herb and J’s teacher did a show and tell about careers right? She wants a presentation about family.”

“Huh,” Charles said quietly. What did that even mean?

“She said it could be anything,” Aimee continued, “I tried asking PJ if he had anything in mind— but what does a child know about complex factors of families?”

“Amour,” Charles laughed. “He’s five. Did you maybe ask if he wants to talk about his uncles or aunts? Or even his grandparents?”

They both stood there, silence comfortably setting the atmosphere between the two of them before Aimee came up with something.

“What if—“ Aimee paused and pursed her lips, “both Jules and H asked about their names before. What if we talk about PJ’s name?”

Charles looked at his wife in confusion, little Alain stared at his father before he babbled. Charles glanced at his son for a moment before looking at Aimee once more.

“It only makes sense,” Aimee shrugged. “Since either of us are presenting to his peers and their other guardians— why don’t we talk about his names?”

The Ferrari driver thought about it for a moment. His sons and their names meant a lot for the couple, with them being named after people that meant so much — people that both Charles and Aimee looked up to.

Sacha ‘PJ’ Leclerc, much like his brothers, was named after the people that gave meaning to Charles and Aimee’s relationship and their lives way before the kids came along. It only makes sense that the couple answer the questions of who were the kids named after.

Especially when PJ’s teacher, Julie, grew curious about the boy’s nickname. His name was Sacha yet the adults called him PJ— why?

“Okay,” Charles nodded, “we can do that.”

“One condition,” Charles continued, making Aimee nod.

His slight scowl was mimicked by little Alain as Charles spoke, “I’m not messing with the glitter glues.”

“No gwue!” Alain exclaimed as if he struggled with the glittery sticky material before.

“Whaaat~” Aimee giggled before rolling her eyes playfully. “So dramatic, you two are. And I thought you'd be like your Maman, Alan.”

“Maman just called us dramatic, Alain,” Charles gasped playfully. “Silly Maman. We’re no drama queens! We just don’t like glitter glues!”

“Bleh!” Alain stuck his tongue out.

“Nuh uh, we don’t stick our tongue out to Maman, Alan bebe! Just say no glue, hm?”

“No gwue, Maman.”

The very first step of the project was to get PJ to cooperate and help his parents build the presentation. After all, it was his class’ show and tell— it was his project.

The five-year-old was fast to agree. He was a saint of some sort, that little man. In comparison to his older brothers, Charles and Aimee never struggled to get him to listen and his calm demeanour was what made him distinct from the Leclerc boys.

They always said that the middle children were the menaces to society. PJ’s cousin Tia Wolff was evidence of that. His aunt, Aimee’s sister Sylvie, was also a prime example of a middle-child menace. But PJ was nothing of the sort. He behaved whenever he was asked to behave. He did everything he was asked.

So getting him to cooperate wasn’t all bad. He did need to stop making fun of his father for disliking the glitter glues though.

Charles still remembered how he came to his driver's briefing a few races ago after making crafts with his kids at his motorhome. He also remembered how everyone laughed at the never-ending shimmering effect on his skin as he kept rubbing on them. Glitters were something that Charles swore he’d never touch ever again.

Anyway.

As the deadline and the day of the presentation approached, everyone seemed to be invested in helping out with the project as well. Pascale and her other sons Arthur and Lorenzo visited almost every day and whenever they could, they’d drop some feedback.

Arthur was a useless piece of shit, as always. Charles wanted to be the best role model for his kids but if his younger brother kept saying that PJ’s first name Sacha came from Sriracha he wouldn’t be able to help himself and eventually set Arthur straight.

When Charles returned from his meeting in Maranello, though, he was more than surprised to see his niece and nephews in his family room as they helped PJ set up the pictures on the trifold board.

“Da!” Jules said, making the kids look up from the entryway as their eyes glimmered.

“Oncle Shal!” His youngest nephew from Toto, Adelmo, exclaimed as he waved the glitter glue around.

“Oh hi, Elmo and Tia,” Charles shot Jules a confused look as if to ask ‘Shouldn’t these kids be in England?’, only for the boy to shrug.

“Maman est dans la cuisine avec l'oncle Toto et la tante Tilly,” Maman is in the kitchen with Uncle Toto and Aunt Tilly. Jules told his father as Charles smiled gratefully.

“And your brothers? Herb and the younger ones?” Charles asked.

PJ, still looking down at the board with his cousins Tia and Adelmo, replied aloud, “Hervé est en train de lire un livre. Alain et Anthoine sont avec Maman dans la cuisine. « Snacking », c'est ce que maman a dit.” Hervé is reading a book. Alain and Anthoine are with Maman in the kitchen. “Snacking” is what I think Maman said.

“Ah, oui, merci Sacha,” Charles told his middle child before ruffling Jules’ curly hair before he walked off to find the adults in the kitchen.

Charles then found his wife with her sister, Tilly, and her brother-in-law, Toto by the kitchen island. There on the counters sat Anthoine and Alain, munching on some crackers as they tried to keep up with the conversation they knew nothing of.

Anthoine saw Charles immediately and exclaimed, “Maman! ‘s Da!”

“Da!” Alain grinned.

“Hallo, bébés,” Charles grinned before he reached out to peck them in the cheeks. He then kissed Aimee on the forehead, turning to look at his in-laws in the process as he nodded, “Tilly, Toto— I didn’t expect you guys to head to Monaco this early.”

Tilly chuckled, “Early vacation for all of us. We’re staying in the holiday home for a month, at least.”

“Ah! C'est très agréable,” that’s very nice. Charles nodded with a smile. “Are the kids okay with that?”

Toto snorted, “They have to be.”

“Tia’s next races are taking place in France,” Tilly added. “Nice, actually. So it’s quite near if we just stayed here in the principality for the next few weekends.”

“I honestly did not expect to have a full workshop in the family room,” Charles joked. “I was expecting to maybe have PJ working on his project but they just doubled in the room— none of them were even my twins.”

“We came over when Aimee mentioned the project,” Toto laughed. “I’m surprised you went ahead with the idea.”

“You know how much it means for us to talk about the kids’ names,” Charles shrugged.

“Well, pray tell,” Tilly gave them a puzzled look, “who’s going to present it? I assume you two would want to do it but—“

“Oh no, not us,” Charles and Aimee shook their heads as the Monegasque continued, “We have someone do it for us.”

Toto’s brows furrowed, “I don’t recall you guys asking me.”

Aimee chuckled, “Not you. Silly Toto.”

“Siwwy Toto!” The adults turned at the twin toddlers as Alain and Anthoine synchronously mimicked Aimee.

But the Leclerc parents were right, they wanted the presentation to be perfect and they had the right man for the audience.

After all, the Alpine driver had always bragged about being the reason why Charles’ middle child got the nickname ‘PJ’.

“Hello, hello! Dear friends of PJ Leclerc and the parents of the friends of PJ Leclerc!”

Charles and Aimee sighed, hiding their faces in embarrassment as they stood at the back of the classroom with the rest of the parents and the homeroom teacher, Mademoiselle Julie.

Charles and Aimee looked at each other, unsure if they should laugh or pity themselves as Pierre Gasly sat on the tiny chair at the front.

The kids were sitting on the floor, facing the Alpine driver as the finished product — the trifold board — was displayed next to him to show the kids.

Pierre introduced himself, “I am Pierre Gasly. I am this boy’s,” he gestured to PJ who sat on the floor right in front of him, “godfather. And today—“

“But Monsieur,” a little girl piped up, raising her hand politely as Pierre paused and nodded for her to continue, “I thought you were a driver?”

“He is, Claudia!” PJ exclaimed with a wide grin, making the parents at the back laugh. PJ then continued, “He drives for Alpine!”

“Alright, little P, let’s calm down,” Pierre giggled quietly. Then he answered the girl, Claudia as PJ called her, with, “Yes I am a driver like PJ’s dad, but right now I am here for PJ as his godfather.”

“Now, who here knows PJ as Sacha?” Most people, hell even the adults at the back, raised their hands as Pierre nodded, “Okay. Well, you see— PJ’s Maman and Papa gave him a reallyyyy reallyyyy long name that the hospital can’t even fit the whole thing in.”

Charles, who stood amongst the giggling parents, leaned over to his wife and whispered in her ear, “I told you that having Pierre do this is a poor idea, Ami.”

“Shh,” Aimee laughed quietly, nudging Charles a little.

“But! They gave those names to PJ because they mean a lot,” Pierre pointed at the full name displayed as a header. “Now, Sacha- it means defender. PJ’s Papa said that PJ, when he was in his Maman’s little tummy, was quiet and a good boy. But he kicks hard like he could play football.”

The kids giggled, PJ laughing along.

“So, his Papa and Maman said that he is a gentle one, but he can be fierce- like a defending warrior!” Pierre told the class and showed emotions for the dramatic effect. The kids looked up at him in awe. “So they said that his name will be Sacha!”

“But wait…” Pierre paused dramatically and looked around, “There is another name.”

“Niki,” Pierre pointed at the middle name. “Who here has watched Formula One?” Everyone raised their hands. “Of course you have- this is Monaco! Anyway, Niki Lauda was a very good driver. He was one of the greatest Formula One drivers— PJ’s Maman and Papa looked up to Niki as he drove for both Scuderia Ferrari and McLaren.”

“Do you wanna know something?” Pierre leaned over as if he was going to whisper a secret, “PJ’s Maman is the goddaughter of Niki Lauda.”

Meanwhile, at the back, Aimee was laughing quietly at Pierre’s dramatic presentation.

Charles gave her a puzzled look as Aimee looked up and murmured, “He can be a good preschool teacher if he has the patience for kids.”

Charles snickered, “Good luck with that.”

“So of course… Sacha Niki… Oh, what’s that?” Pierre pointed at his own name. “Pierre.”

“That’s your name!” The boy next to PJ gasped and turned to look at the aforementioned boy, “PJ, your name is like his!”

PJ eagerly nodded but didn’t say anymore as Pierre continued. “I have been his Papa’s very best friend since we were kids! That’s why I am PJ’s godfather and that is why they named him Pierre.”

“That’s so cool, PJ,” the other kids told the child, who blushed slightly at the attention given to him.

Pierre chuckled at this before he moved the children’s attention towards the last name. “Philippe,” he said, now watching the kids pay attention.

“PJ’s Maman had a grandfather that she loved the most,” Pierre explained to the kids. “PJ’s aunts and Maman love him so much and his name is Philip Hearth.” He pointed at the picture at the bottom of the ‘Philippe’ header.

There, a photo of a baby Aimee being held by her grandfather was displayed. At the bottom of it showed a portrait photo of Philip and his time at the F1 tracks and other factories of his company.

“Philip owned Ferrari and McLaren,” Pierre nodded, “he was good friends with Enzo Ferrari and many famous drivers- in fact, he made some drivers’ careers possible by putting money into the teams and providing resources. He made dreams come true!”

“PJ’s Maman loved her grandfather so much that she named PJ after him,” Pierre grinned. The way Pierre’s storytelling was heartwarming for both Charles and Aimee, as he had been enthusiastic about this whole ordeal— it showed them that their children meant a lot to Pierre.

“And that’s it,” Pierre concluded. “That’s the story of the name of Sacha Niki Pierre Philippe. Now— who has some questions?”

The question portion started there. And the Alpine driver was ready to conclude the presentation when Claudia raised her hand as Pierre nodded at her.

“If his name is Sacha…” Pierre nodded, encouraging the little girl to nod, “Then why is he called PJ?”

Everyone seemed curious too. But Aimee and Charles both knew why he was called PJ rather than Sacha.

It was at Pierre’s insistence that Sacha Leclerc was destined to be Pierre Junior. He had established this as soon as Aimee and Charles arrived from the hospital the day after Sacha was born.

But Pierre’s answer was partially different from what had happened, “His Maman and Papa said that he is Pierre Junior! Like me!”

Pierre grinned at Aimee and Charles’ baffled looks.

“The audacity,” Aimee scoffed.

Charles chuckled, “Oh, Mon Dieu.”

They’d have to talk to Pierre about changing certain narratives. It was okay to lie to be a wingman for your best friend, but lying to the kids about what happened with PJ’s nickname?

Yeah, he needed some talking to.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @hiireadstuff @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @scorpiomindfuck

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margareth-lv · 5 months

Text

🏳️‍🌈 Every girl needs a gay best friend 🏳️‍🌈

Last week, I wrote a post here about the morbid shyness of a certain music manager.

My text was based on an interview Caitríona gave in mid-February 2018, shortly after her so-called 'engagement' and after she'd just won the Irish IFTA for her work on Outlander.

In the interview, Caitríona talked about how she met her fake fiancé. In the February 2018 version, Caitríona met her PA through one of her best friends.

So I decided to look into the subject of this "best friend" who brought the unfortunate music manager to Caitriona.

What I'm going to write today is, I think, 100% obvious to veterans of the fandom. But for those just starting out, I hope it'll be news. And I, well, I'm somewhere in the middle, between newbie status and more than three years of wading through the facts and the myths.

For me, the fun part has been reconstructing the chronology of events. The dates are interesting.

*** *** ***

The beginning of my story is quite surprising. Because we reach Caitríona's 'best friend' by clicking on a link in an article published in 'People Magazine' on 15 August 2019.

The article is entitled: 'Everything to Know About Caitriona Balfe's Super Private Relationship with Husband Tony McGill' and it tells us that: 'the couple tied the knot in England last weekend'.

😱

What excellent investigative journalists People Magazine have (bravo, bravo!), that in a twelve sentence article they could link to a post from Donal Brophy's Instagram.

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

And look at this description:

"It’s unclear exactly when Balfe and McGill started dating, but the earliest evidence of their romance dates back to 2015, when a friend posted a video of her sitting on his lap at a bar in Ireland on Instagram. (McGill was not tagged and does not appear to have any social media accounts of his own.)"

🤯

Isn't that brilliant work from Starz/TPTB/whatever's PR Dept?

*** **** *** From the above it seems fair to conclude that the 'best friend' who brought Caitriona bad luck in the form of an unfulfilling music manager was Donal Brophy, because who else could it be?

*** *** ***

And now, let's take a quick look at the Instagram post (dated 1 January 2015) linked to the 'People Magazine' article. We all know it, of course! Here is the irrefutable proof of the passion between our two lovebirds: the rhythmic (and how sexy!) patting on the hip.

🥱

Well, hip-slapping is boring (and not at all sexy).

Far less boring, however, is the look on the music manager's face, the look that seeks Donal's approval (tell me I'm patting her well, do tell!). Could it be that, like the People Magazine link, this video was made to show? I wouldn't rule it out.

*** *** *** Now let's talk about dates: the sexy (not 🤢) slap on the hip was posted by Donal with a date of 1 January 2015, but two days earlier, on 30 December 2014, Donal shared another photo on Instagram featuring both the hapless music manager and Caitríona. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Perhaps the decidedly less seductive and sensual appearance of the 'fiancée' in the December photo was the deciding factor in "People Magazine" not publishing a link to it?

Who could know?

*** *** ***

It certainly wasn't love at first sight. The new boyfriend seems rather tired of Caitriona's presence. 😉

I know this is a mischievous conclusion. I am so, so sorry, my friends.

❓

But one thing is for sure: Donal is an old friend of Caitríona.

I haven't done too much in-depth research, but the oldest photo I've been able to find of both Caitríona and Donal is… a photo in a Flickr album belonging to Caitríona's ex-boyfriend, Dave Milone. The photo is dated… 2002.

😨

You get the idea - Caitríona's ex (and real) boyfriend, Dave, Donal, and after many, many years a new 'fiancé'. It feels like my brain is exploding. 🤯🤯🤯

*** *** ***

But back to Donal: I have a feeling that Donal may have been Caitríona's +1 at times when she did not have an official boyfriend.

*** *** *** And let's not forget: Caitríona has a sweet and tender relationship with Donal.

June 2013, Miss you babe!

December 2013, Caitríona on IG:

December 2013, Donal on IG:

April 2014: They even went hiking together in the Scottish Highlands.

I wonder, by the way, who was their mountain guide? Was it an unfortunate music manager? I think not.

I would rather point to someone else, someone who loves (and knows!) the (S)cottish (H)ighlands. But I won't name him.

⛰️🧗🏻‍♂️

*** *** ***

For those who are unfamiliar with the name Donal Brophy, here are a few words about his professional profile:

You know, it works for me: "While in New York, Donal was also known for epic parties. Everything he organized automatically became a “must-attend” event for New York’s most with-it residents."

You know, that kind of vibe (2007):

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

*** *** ***

Had he been Caitríona's false fiancé, it would have been easy for us to believe in the beautiful, loving bond that existed between them. But he was only the messenger of bad news. What wouldn't you do for your best friend?

❓

PS. Unless something has changed, Donal was married to Emrhys Cooper, a British actor, singer, dancer, and filmmaker. Together they run Idyllwild Pictures, an entertainment company.

Taken in July 2023:

[January 23, 2024]

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slut4thebroken · 1 year

Text

Soothing

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Dark!Jason Todd × innocent Batgirl!reader

Summary | Jason just likes the sound of your voice.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, corruption kink, masturbation, no female orgasms, lowkey misogynistic!Jason lol, adopted siblings, but like... he doesn't think of her that way and neither does she, Jason pov.

Words | 1k

Notes | Finally wrote the fic from this post. Also I realized that I said that good weird was the first in this collection but I guess technically this is. That was just the first time they actually got together. (Help I’m literally so bad at choosing gifs/pictures for fics💀)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Other innocent! reader fics

Backstory for this series here

It had been a long fucking day. A long week to be honest. He never really liked working with Dick or Tim, always preferring to work alone, but he couldn’t deny that he needed more manpower for this, and everyone else he knew was busy, so he swallowed his pride and called them.

Even though it was his mission, Dick always naturally took the lead, so it was no surprise that he did this time too. The whole week so far was spent arguing about whose plan was better and Tim trying to diffuse the tension, but primarily siding with Dick. He almost considered making them go home so he could do it alone, but he knew that would get himself killed. Again.

But today was by far the worst of the whole week and he wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. So even though it was 4am for him, he called you, praying you’d pick up. When you did, you started the usual greeting of “hi” and “how are you?” as he took off everything but his underwear and slipped under the covers.

“When do you come back?” You asked, making him smile.

“Just a few more days, princess. Promise.”

“Okay.” You said quietly, then, “I miss you.” He let out a low chuckle and could imagine the pretty blush painting your cheeks from his reaction.

“I miss you too, sweetheart. What have you been up to though?” You rambled on about your day, telling him about how Alfred made cookies earlier and that you were quickly growing bored in the mostly empty manor and your completely empty apartment.

He tried to pay attention, honestly he did. But he hasn’t touched his cock in almost a week because of how busy he’s been and he missed the sound of your voice. So what else was he supposed to do when his cock fattened up in his briefs?

When you started talking about this new show you’ve been watching, he tuned out your words a little bit, just listening to the softness of your voice, imagining the pretty little whimpers you could make with it. Pushing the covers and his underwear down, he freed his cock and instantly took it in his hand, stroking slowly. His breathing started to change a little, growing heavier and faster, making you trail off in the middle of your sentence.

“Don’t stop talking, princess.” He rasped, hand speeding up.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly.

“I’m perfect. Your voice is just so soothing, baby. Keep talking.”

“O-okay.” You continued hesitantly, telling him about how you fell and scraped your knee, wishing he was there to help bandage you up like he’s done in the past. You told him about how you’ve been having trouble sleeping since you can’t come to his room in the middle of the night after having a nightmare. God- he fucking misses that too. It’s one of his favorite things, being able to caress your body or grind against you while you sleep, never waking up because of how safe you feel in his arms. When he let out a quiet grunt, you stopped again.

“Are you sure you’re okay? What was that?”

“I’m so good, princess. Keep going.” He tried not to moan through the words.

“Okay…” He swiped a thumb over the tip and took in a sharp breath, making you stop again. “Why are you breathing weird, Jay?”

“Baby, I'm not.” He sighed. “I promise I'm okay. If you don’t want to keep talking, we don’t have to.”

“No!” You said quickly, because of his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just worried.” Instead of letting him reply, you continued talking about random things that have happened while he’s been away. Every once in a while he’d let out a sound to let you know he was listening, a grunt disguised as a sound of acknowledgement, but you bought it.

He started tuning out your words again, just focusing on the soft lull of your sleepy voice. You being sleepy is probably his favorite thing, closely followed by you being scared or in pain. You’re so pliable, so easy to manipulate. He can caress your tit or your ass and pass it off as an accident, or even tell you that he can’t sleep in clothes, only underwear, and that it’s perfectly normal for your big brother to sleep almost naked beside you. Sometimes, if he’s really lucky, he can convince you that you won’t be comfortable in those modest pajamas you wear and that you’ll be able to sleep much better in just his shirt. And you almost always agree.

He stroked his cock even faster, quickly nearing his orgasm after so long without one, and when he cursed under his breath, then let out a long, quiet groan, you trailed off again.

You did your best to keep speaking, stuttering through the sentences, but it fell on deaf ears as he came, thinking about how fucking hot it was that you didn’t even know. When his noises quieted and he was lightly panting, you decided to ask again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m perfect, baby.” He sounded significantly more tired and relaxed, but he knew you’d be too stupid to put it together. “You’re so good for me- my good girl. Thank you, princess.”

“You’re welcome…?” You asked, confused, but he wasn’t going to bother explaining. “Are you tired now?”

“Just a little, but I can stay up for you.” He murmured, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand to wipe his come off his stomach, cock twitching as he imagined you licking it off him instead.

“You don’t have to, Jay. I’m tired too.” He knew you well enough to know that was a lie.

“How about we go to sleep, but don’t hang up. How does that sound?”

“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Jay. I love you.” You said quietly, but he could practically hear the smile in your voice.

“I love you too, princess. Sweet dreams.” He knew he would at least have some.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #smut #innocent!reader #dark!jason todd

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its-all-stardust · 20 days

Note

Hey, so first of all, I love your work, it's absoluteley amazing!!!

I saw that your requests are open, so I thought that I would ask for a Matt Murdock x reader oneshot? You know, just something cute and fluffy?

Maybe I'm gonna sound a bit stereotypical but how about a reader that owns a bakery and wants to try out a new recipe. Matt tries to sneak a taste from time to time while "helping out" (honestly, he's just teasing and making reader's job probably harder [affectionaly]). Just domestic fluff? Maybe please?

You don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd give it a try :)

Thank you!! I'm glad you like my writing!! 🫂

I'm worried with this one that I tweaked things just enough that it's not exactly what you wanted anon, but I did my best and wrote what inspiration gave me!! I'll be honest, it could be fluffier, but I'm also not offended by my own writing so that's something lol I hope you like it!! ❤️❤️

Check out this post for request guidelines

Masterlist

Matt Murdock/GN!Reader

Word Count: 964

Was turning your residential apartment into a glorified bakery after you moved in with your boyfriend legal? According to Matt, a very good lawyer, it wasn’t technically illegal, so you did it anyway and prayed your landlord never found out.

It wasn’t really a bakery, not in the traditional sense. You didn’t try making it into a storefront, nor did you want it to be one. You did, however, take specialty orders through your website. You mainly baked for small events or private parties. You weren’t touching a wedding with a ten-foot pole unless you made the cake or just one of the cookies for the snack table.

It wasn’t enough to pay the bills on its own—you still had a full-time job—but you enjoyed it, and the small amount of extra income it generated was nice.

Matt enjoyed it, too. So much so that you often joked he had ulterior motives for dating you.

But even though baking was a passion, it still came with challenges.

You let out a frustrated sigh and leaned against your elbows, bent over the counter, and buried your face in your hands.

This is the worst part about baking, you thought.

“Do you need help?” Matt asked, hand suddenly on your shoulder. You jumped, letting out a small gasp. “Sorry. I tried calling a couple of times.”

“It’s fine,” you sighed, turning to wrap your arms around his middle, leaning into him, and pressing your face against his neck. “I just hate this.”

Matt huffed a laugh. “It can’t be so bad. You say that about every new thing you try.”

“But I really mean it this time!” you whined, though you actually didn’t.

You strived for perfection, but new recipes were always daunting. Either the first few batches didn’t meet your standards, or the very first one did, but the subsequent batches often failed. You thought once or twice about not adding anything new to your menu, but you needed to keep a refreshed list, or else you risked losing repeat customers—the ones who made this business possible for you in the first place.

“We can do it together,” Matt offered, lips brushing against the top of your head. “Will that make it better?”

You considered it for a moment. Matt’s taste was impeccable. You often used him—and Foggy and Karen—as guinea pigs, and he was always able to offer you the best advice. In another life, he would have been a fantastic chef. You’ve never baked anything with him before, only handed him the finished product.

If he helped you now, as you were putting everything together, it could make the whole try, try again process you had going significantly shorter, if not bypassed completely.

“Yes, actually. I think it will,” you answered, lifting your head up.

The only problem: Matt was a complete and utter nuisance.

He wouldn’t do what you told him, at times completely forgoing your instructions—the one you found in an old cookbook that wasn’t like anything you found online—and adding either the incorrect amount of something or adding something that wasn’t even on the list of ingredients.

No matter how many times you told him baking was an exact science and the time for experimentation was after you followed the recipe to a T and tasted the finished product, he refused to listen. You thought he did, at first, but then you caught him tossing in almond extract behind your back, and things only went downhill from there.

“Would you please stop sticking your fingers in the bowl?” you practically begged after you caught him helping himself to the cookie batter for the fourth time.

“How else am I supposed to taste it?” he asked with a playful smirk. He seemed to enjoy the fact he was making you want to pull your hair out.

“With the spoon I specifically set out for that purpose!” You picked it up and thrust it at him. He ignored it and stuck his finger in his mouth.

“But I’m blind. How am I supposed to know where it is?”

You raised an eyebrow, not fooled. “The same way you find the bowl even after I move it.”

Matt shrugged. “Fair point. But if I used the spoon, I couldn’t do this.” He stuck his finger in the bowl again.

“Matthew, I swear to—”

He stuck his finger in your mouth, not far but enough for the batter to touch your tongue, before he pulled away.

“—God,” you couldn’t help but finish as the first notes of the batter processed. Brow furrowed, you focused on the taste, brushing your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to make it last while you sorted out the different flavors. It was…

“That’s amazing,” you said, stunned. “What did you put in there?” You pulled the bowl toward you, forgetting the spoon in your hand as you dipped in a finger from the other. It wasn’t what you were trying to make at all, and you needed another sample.

“I tried telling you it just needed a few extra ingredients.” Before you could stick your finger in your mouth, Matt took your hand, wrapping his lips around your batter-covered finger. His tongue lapped gently against the pad, almost teasing. “Now it’s perfect,” he said when he pulled away.

“I think I need you in the kitchen more often,” you said, wheels already turning in your mind.

Matt beamed at you and tried leaning in for a kiss. You, however, didn’t notice and stepped away to find your phone, leaving him confused.

You opened your notes app and said, “Quick, tell me what you did before you forget.”

Matt could only shake his head in amusement before he dutifully listed everything he had snuck into the batter.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #x reader #fic request #selene's requests

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charlottecutepie · 5 months

Text

☥ Bunny meat (William Afton x fem!reader x Michael Afton)

Summary: He was a likeable middle-aged man who had wonderful children, his dream job and a beautiful wife. He never blamed himself for his own actions, or to be more exact, he never thought about their consequences.

author note: Ive been thinking for a very long time whether I should publish this fic here. this is my fav fic I wrote for fnaf, I especially like the way I portrayed William here. so please, if any of you would like to see this story here, can you leave a comment? It’ll help me to understand. I’m just unsure if I should post this fic here :’’)

tags: darkfic, unhealthy relationship, angst, smut with plot, p in v, dubcon, oral sex, rough and gentle sex, daddy kink, blood play, knife play, fear play, hurt/comfort, violence, gore/murders, child abuse, follows fnaf lore, moral and physical abuse, virginity kink, anxiety disorder, age gap, daddy issues, unreliable narrator, hallucinations, hidden pairing, William is sick, psychopathy, unhealthy narcissism

Chapter 2.

Chapter 1. Thoughts

Chilly spring night. Light wind and rain. It's so fresh outside that the opposite effect appears: you feel as if you are suffocating from excess air. Outside is your favourite smell of wet grass after the rain. Light smile appears on your lips, and you carelessly go out on the porch of your house, looking at the beautiful view in front of you.

At such moments, everything around seems to be a part of you, you feel some kind of connection with nature and this world. Peace, tranquility, two things what you lack in life.

Today was a bad day. Maybe tomorrow will be better? Tomorrow will be the same. And when will it be better? Does this hell have an end?

Your head is filled with bad thoughts. It feels like every day is getting a little worse than the previous one. You never understood why you deserved such treatment from your father. It was as if he was doing everything so that you wouldn't feel like his daughter. He never even called you that. Something bad happened in your family every day, mom and dad always argued, and you always ran into your room in a state of panic, anxiety. What if father does something to her? That's what happened a few years ago. When you called your aunt in tears, begging her to come, because your father broke your mom's leg and beat her to a concussion. You could have been next if your aunt hadn't arrived on time. That evening, the picture of father changed dramatically in your little child's head.

“Father” means something cold, something cruel. The one who can punch, beat, shout, scream. Abuse.

You live with this thought to this day, but the only thing that has changed is that now there is no father anymore. He died a month ago, which was a shock to your whole little family. You hardly remember what happened exactly on the day of his death, but you clearly memorised your mother who cried all night because she knew well that the only one who could work to feed the family was her husband.

And now, because of this husband she cannot find a well-paid job, because he took care to provide her with a serious disability. And you're too young to work, first you must finish school and university.

Your skin was covered with goosebumps, you went back into the house. Passing by mom's room, you made sure that she was asleep and went to your own one.

Tomorrow is another day.

…

June 22.

“Y/n, breakfast is ready.” you heard mom's voice from the kitchen. Telling her you'd be coming soon, you headed to the bathroom to comb your hair and wash your face.

On the dining table you saw a plate with your favorite breakfast. Pancakes with honey, it couldn't not make you happy. You smiled and sat down opposite your mom. Woman was in a joyful mood.

“Good morning, dear, how did you sleep?�� she asked gently, examining your face expression. That's how your conversation started, about everything and nothing at once. She told something about her plans for today, for a week, about her friends, about how one of them gave birth again. You just enjoyed her monologue, sometimes nodding and shaking your head. It was nice for you to see a sparkle in mom's eyes, it was something strange and unique for you, but warming soul. “I absolutely forgot that soon is your birthday!”

“Oh, really? If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have remembered…” you answered in confusion, fidgeting in your chair and twitching your leg. For some reason, the mention of your birthday made you uncomfortable. Probably because it will be your first birthday without your father. After all, when he was alive, you never really celebrated it. The maximum that was — sweets that your mother gave you in secret from him. You wonder what will happen this time?

“How are we going to celebrate?” Mom asked, smile on her face.

You looked at the floor, nervously fiddling with your shorts. You scratched your head, trying to think of something, but no idea came to mind. Your thoughts are empty again.

“It's your 18th birthday… We need to celebrate it well somehow.” for a second she paused, before looking at you with cheerful face. “Oh… Mr. Afton!”

Your eyes widened in surprise, because after the funeral, your family stopped communicating with Afton family.

“Mom, what are you up to?” you frowned. To be honest, you always got shivers running down your spine from his name, because your last meeting was at that cemetery, on the day of your father's funeral. Memories have entered your mind, forcing you to remember your last dialogue with Mr. Afton.

After the burial itself happened, you ran away from the crowd away. Your heart was racing like crazy, trying to jump out of your chest. You sat down on a wet bench, covering your face in hysterics. Tears streamed down your cheeks, dripping onto a puddle under the bench.

“Young lady,” a low-pitched male voice called you out of hysteria. “Everything is okay? You've been sitting here for hour.”

You opened your eyes and raised your head. Next to you was standing was a tall, middle-aged man with dark brown hair, dressed in black trousers and a jacket. He leaned towards you, holding an umbrella over your head. His face seemed painfully familiar, but because of the hysteria, you couldn't remember who it was.

“Oh god, Y/n? I didn't recognize you, little one. Why are you sitting here all alone?” he smiled broadly as he sat down next to you on the bench, still holding the umbrella for you. “Your mom is looking for you, she's so worried. Her beloved girl is lost.”

You recognised this man. It was none other than William Afton. One of your father's friends, he often came to visit you, and your family also visited him. You were embarrassed by ignoring his questions because you didn't know what to respond. He's been staring at your face the whole time.

“Come on, princess, I see how cold you are.” with these words, he took off his jacket, putting it on your shoulders. “I understand how hard it is for you, honey.”

You haven't received so many nicknames from any men for all your 17 years of life. Never, not once. His voice at some point began to seem more comfortable and soothing. Because of all the surging emotions, you burst into tears again in front of him, no longer hiding your face. William, not wasting a minute, threw umbrella and took you in his arms, so that your face was hidden in his chest. His cold hands stroked your hair, soothing you, calming you. It may have looked strange from out of context, but you really needed support in such hard moment.

“Don't cry, Y/n. You'll be fine, little one.” he talked and talked endlessly, but because of your own tears and sobs, you ignored everything, only burying your nose in his chest more.

“He's the owner of a pizzeria! Do you want to celebrate there? I'm sure he'll give us a discount in honor of such an event.” her smile never disappeared for a second. You were already beginning to doubt at how real her emotions were.

“Are you sure? We don't have much money anyway…”

“Never mind, I want you to finally have the best birthday, dear.” she winked and got up from the table, putting the plates and mugs in the sink.

Your lips curled at the thought of having to see William again.

#william afton smut #fnaf x reader #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #fnaf william afton #michael afton x reader #william afton imagines #fnaf x y/n

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dekusheroacademia · 2 months

Text

Nicholas Light: using homophobia to be cancelled for clout

This is not a call out post, I don't care about that. This is a summary of events that I decided to write because I know how fandom works and behave.

I am tired of seeing people's "The MHA fandom is so toxic!" for events that never happened, and given this youtuber already revealed he is looking for followers through "being cancelled" (as I'll explain), I have no intention of letting the shitshow that happened be forgotten.

So here we go.

Small disclaimer: This is the sequence of events as I remember, with screenshots to add. Please do not harass anyone. Not even Nicholas Light, as he clearly does not want to be involved with the MHA fandom anymore. Block him only and leave him alone, I am serious. The point of this is showing what happened, not confirming his idea of how disgusting mha fans and bakudeku fans are.

Another small point: If I said anything wrong or incorrect in this post, let me know and I will fix it. While I strive to be unbiased, I am only human.

1)Initial tweet

All of this happened in the span of a few hours, the 9th of May 2024, middle of the night at central europe time. All the tweets have since be deleted as Nicholas Light erased a full month of tweets and went private to do so.

Nicholas Light is an anime youtuber with a twitter account (of about 40k followers, this is important later). He posted this tweet:

I saw it on my tl a couple of times, mainly people saying that he should not generalize and people wondering how come someone who has watched MHA for so long does not know about Bakudeku. This tweet per se is kind of bait-y, but nothing too wild.

A lot of his followers were answering to this tweet with homophobic comments like:

And Nicholas himself then wrote he was throwing up under a bakudeku safe-for-work chibi fanart gif that someone reposted:

At this point there were a few comments saying "It is not too bad, Bakudeku has grown a lot as a ship" or "I just saw someone posting Endeavor/Uraraka", and fanart of other ships with an adult and a minor. Nicholas did not reply to any of them, seemingly only focusing on the bakudeku comments.

Here are some examples I managed to recover, as you can see no answer from Nicholas, he was only interested in bakudeku:

2) The video

At this point, a twitter user replied to Nicholas' main tweet with this:

As you can see, the user is very calm and even says "come across as homophobic", so definitely more diplomatic than what I could have managed. Nicholas replied with "Stop with the your queer audience", to which the user revealed that they ARE one of his audience.

As you can see Nicholas repeats that he doesn't want that queer follower in his audience, and that "I SPEAK MY MIND". Keep this in mind, the irony of it, especially, given he has erased everything.

The queer twitter user was the only person he addressed, and immediately after them he wrote this and immediately posted a youtube video:

You can still see his youtube video up, by the way.

This youtuber saw one user replying to him and immediately posted a "I got cancelled for this" youtube video, and a rant of multiple tweets telling his audience "I AM UNAPOLOGETICALLY ME AND I'LL FOREVER SAY WHAT I WANT". He posted another tweet too but I did not screenshot it.

After depicting himself as a victim of being cancelled because one person asked him about how his tweet could be viewed some bakudeku users reacted.

The first to go was the tweet of the video:

The second was this tweet that was written in reply to his main "i don't want a queer audience" tweet:

the tweet is still here.

As you can see if you click on the tweet, the problem expressed is that he built a queer audience to earn money, but is now trying to appeal to homophobic anime audiences to be "cancelled", and earn some followers and money. How do we know this?

Because of this tweet:

This screenshot was taken that same night, so this tweet about "earning from being cancelled" was posted 6 days before he decided to actually try it.

And it is not over. The user andy (the one who revealed about Nicholas' only fans) was immediately blocked, and they were the one finding this "being cancelled= money" tweet and posting it. Imagine what happened: Nicholas immediately deleted this reply from 6 days before. Which meant that he was checking what this bakudeku user was posting to cover his tracks.

3) Lolicon is fictional, but bakudeku is a disease and the fans need therapy

Now let's go back to Nicholas' main tweet in reply to that queer user. You can see how people from his following reacted:

And this was his answer:

You can see that he immediately decides to call the user weird because the characters are "little kids", so the user needs to seek therapy for looking at fanarts of bakudeku kissing.

Except that this is when bakudeku fans and non bakudeku fans found his old tweets in defense of lolicon, fictional pedophilia and people like Mushoku:

Now, the point here is the hypocrisy and double standard.

On one side "loli and fictional children are fictional and cannot be associated with actual crimes", on the other side "gay teenagers being shipped are disgusting and comparable to real life crimes". People were quick to point this homophobic messy double standard.

Nicholas Light himself started to notice that people were finding out his old stuff and he was replying to no one. He first deleted the tweet with the only fans retweet, probably making sure his current homophobic fanbase would not find that, and then replied this to one of the bakudeku fans showing his hypocritical behaviour:

This was the last tweet before he deleted everything. Calling someone an ableist slur, then saying he was watching movies with his girlfriend and then spending the next hour deleting

every

single

and tweet.

And then he went private and when he came back... he had deleted every single reply and tweet of this mess, and he had deleted every tweet that people had screenshotted around, and every tweet he posted in the previous month:

He scrubbed his whole account.

We are not sure what happened to him "being unapologetically myself", apparently his strategy to make some cash from being homophobic and harassing small acounts while pretending to be cancelled did not succeed.

And the reason why I wrote this post is because there is the possibility that he might try this again in the future, maybe even with the same fanbase and strategy. So keep an eye out, do not let him fool you.

#nicholas light #bkdk fandom #fandom drama #meta #bkdk

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random0lover · 1 year

Text

Her Past Is Their Torture

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Angst/No Comfort (yet), SFW, talk of death, readers fake funeral is mentioned, fake identity is mentioned, healing wound referenced, A gun is mentioned one time, words "terrorist group" is used once, nothing to serious!

Things to know: reader themself is never referenced looks wise so this is POC friendly! Also if you decide to follow me after reading, READ MY PINNED POST, thank you ♡

Notes: I wrote this in 3 hours after not writing anything for a while, so I hope this is okay! This somehow is getting turned into a mini-series, but I cannot make any promises on how fast each part will come out, but it will be a happy ending!! Kind of proof read but not really so sorry for any errors <3

Part 1 Part 2 (You’re here!)

You were not supposed to be alive. Your heart had stopped while you were lying in the arms of the man you loved but somehow you were alive sneaking your way through the base that you used to call home.

Today was the day of your funeral, a month after the incident, you knew it would be your only chance to make it onto base to grab a few of your main keepsakes from your room, and no matter how bad of an idea it was, you wanted to stop in Simon’s room one last time.

Laswell didn't know you were here as far as she knew you were on your way to pick up everything to complete your temporary new identity. A 24-year-old from the States wanting to get some traveling in after completing nursing school before going back home to start their job as an ER nurse. Enough information to satisfy anyone that wanted to have a chat but nothing that would be too memorable.

Kate was the first person you saw after you woke up in a room that was decorated with floral designs that reminded you of the worn couch that sat in your grandmother's living room until the day she passed away. She told you that your getting shot that night wasn’t a coincidence and that the same people you've spent the last few years running from were once again coming after you.

Before you became part of Task Force 141 you had previously been part of a different unit, one that now has no evidence of existing after a mission that went haywire. You had all been tasked to eradicate a terrorist group that had supposedly made threats to multiple governments not knowing that you were not the first unit being sent in, that it was a death wish going after them. You and your captain had been the only ones to survive at first until four months later you woke in the middle of the night to a frantic phone call from him saying that they were going to come for you next, the sound of a shotgun being cocked, then the line went dead. Not ten minutes later you had packed a bag and were getting ready to go out the backdoor when you heard your front door being kicked in, if it hadn't been for your captain making that call you would've been dead too.

From that day you spent two years running, going everywhere from China to The United States, to Poland, to Japan, anywhere you could hide until Kate had you staying in the UK which is when she introduced you to Captain John Price and you officially became part of task force 141. Price was the only one that knew your full story until you told Simon but you never got the chance to tell him that you might have to keep running one day. That the people that were after you would only show up to try and kill you to then disappear without a trace until they decided to come after you again.

You had become too comfortable, too hopeful that they were not going to come after you again, that maybe it was all over but the healing bullet wound in your side states otherwise.

You shake your head to get out of your thoughts and continue to make your way through the base while keeping your head down.

~~**~~

This morning you had watched to make sure all of the task force members had left so that you didn't risk running into any of them. You had already been to your room making sure to grab the necklace Soap and Gaz had gifted you on your birthday last year, the little notebook Soap would doodle in when he would sit in your room with you, the t-shirt you had stolen from Simon’s closet, and a coffee mug that Price had jokingly given you that said “dad’s favorite”.

You knew it was all pointless stuff but the little things had always meant the most to you especially when it was things that people that were as close to family as you'll get had given you.

Walking through the men's barracks would not be a good idea usually but today they were mostly barren for obvious reasons. You quickly made it to Simon’s room having to resist stopping in Gaz’s room and staying focused. Oddly enough the door was unlocked but you didn’t think much of it, mainly just thanking the stars that you got lucky enough that he forgot.

You make your way into the room gently shutting the door behind you and move until you're standing beside his bed closing your eyes for a moment taking a deep breath, taking in the smell of pine and cedar mixed with notes of vanilla and a small hint of smoke.

You open your eyes and finally let your eyes drift across the room. The room itself is completely clean not a thing out of place almost as if it hadn't been touched since the morning before that last mission what catches your attention though is the small desk in the corner that is currently the dirtiest you've ever seen it, covered in a few stacks of paperwork, mugs that have dried-out tea bags in them, and not so shockingly your file. It was sitting on top of everything else but you could tell from the creases and a few dirt stains in the manilla folder that it had been opened multiple times and maybe even thrown or dropped a few times.

You feel in your pocket for the folded note that you had written the night before and pull it out. You stare at it for a moment before opening the folder and sliding it in between some papers at the bottom of the stack hoping that he’ll find it. As soon as you close the folder you hear some voices coming down the hallway and make your way towards his closed closet waiting to see if you’ll need to hide. You hear the voice fade and let out the breath you were holding until you see the door handle turning and frantically throw yourself into the closet hiding behind his clothes and trying to shut the door.

Simon comes into your view for a moment and you see him looking around the room, you hear him let out a sigh before taking a deep breath and you see his body go rigid, you freeze hoping he didn’t hear you, and hear him sniff again almost as if he smells something weird. He turns towards the closet and you can see his eyes settle on the door, you want to slap yourself for not making sure to close it all the way and suck in a breath as he takes a step forward reaching out to open the door but before he can you hear his door open again.

“You got that file you were looking for Lt.?” Soap asks from the doorway.

Simon looks at the closet door one more time before turning to the desk and grabbing the file, “Yeah Johnny, let’s go.”

You wait in the closet for another five minutes before you decide that it’s safe to venture out and quickly make your exit, locking the door behind you before you sneak off base.

As soon as you reach your car the burner phone that was in the center console starts ringing the screen saying ‘GREEN’ in big bold letters meaning that it’s Kate. You pull out the phone and answer it while starting the car. “Where are you? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.”

“I'm almost there Kate, I’ll be there soon. Promise.” You sigh before hanging up.

Hi my lovelies, I hope you enjoyed the second part to Open Wounds and War Paint! Feedback is appreciated but not necessary. As always I hope you have a great day/night. <3

As of right now I have a few requests, but requests are open! I cannot promise when or if I will write them, but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them easier to write but it's not required. Thanks for reading my darlings! ♡

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