#2 and a half months worth done so far

[soulful-rodent]

I'm going to bed, I'm gonna try to finish my masterpost of my hazbin sona, good night.

*flops into bed exhaustedly*

[supermaks]

Kit do you not rep Charles anymore 😭

Of course I do he’s prime I just need a break from his team and that fucking dog

[teapartyprincess4two]

Y/n and Matt get closer when it's just them 2 in the house, and i was thinking Fluff and Smut like a lot of Smut. Maybe Matt is a virgin but Y/n aint so she teaches him???

End of the World- M. Sturniolo

pairing: fem!reader x Matt

classification: Zombie Apocalypse AU, smut, fluff, angst/sad (kinda? Idk it’s a mix of everything)

inspiration: request^^

warnings: 18+, MDNI, set in modern day, use of y/n, literal sex, slight cursing, zombies & general apocalypse stuff (death, lnives, guns, killing, blood, hunger, dehydration, etc.), kinda long

summary: No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.

—

If anyone would’ve told you two years ago that you’d be huddled around the hood of a car, staring down at a worn out map, covered in blood, you would’ve called them crazy.

Two years ago your life was convenient. Now? Now life was simple, all you had to do was survive. All the things you wished would disappear; homework, bills, work, none of them mattered anymore. But they were easily replaced with an even greater burden, a zombie apocalypse and the end of the world.

Two years ago you wouldn’t have had even a spec of dirt under your fingernails, yet here you stand covered in blood that isn’t yours, weeks worth of dirt and grime, and sweat dripping down your forehead. Your hair is pulled back into a ponytail, exposing your shoulders to the harsh Texas heat and further working towards dehydrating you.

Two years ago you wouldn’t so much as hurt a fly. Now you wouldn’t think twice before pulling the trigger if it meant you had a chance at survival.

Two years ago you didn’t have to worry about where your next meal was coming from or if your bedroom was secure enough to sleep in. But the world has changed and so have you.

It’s been months since anyone in your group has had a good nights rest or a warm meal. All you’ve done is run from anything that threatens to harm you. Although you’ve all managed to set up a temporary moderately safe camp within the woods, it’s been difficult to stretch resources that are already scarce.

Food, water, clothing. These are all things that you wish you didn’t need. Why? Because leaving camp to retrieve them is dangerous. But, it’s been 2 days since your last run, and canned goods can only last so long, especially when there’s mouths to feed.

Chris uses his knife to point to an unmarked location on the map, “Nick and I will head south. I saw an old water tower in that direction when we passed through, maybe there’s a town nearby.” He uses the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead before returning it back to the map, tracing the blade up a road.

“Matt and Y/n, you two try looking in this area. We haven’t checked there yet and if we’re lucky it hasn’t been completely ransacked. You might find something…” Chris pauses, taking a look at the group of people not far behind. They’re chatting, all of them wearing exhausted expression and filthy clothes. “…something to get the group through the next couple of days. We can’t stay here anymore, place is crawling with infected.”

Chris became the leader of your group easily. He had a great way of talking to people, of showing them that even though the world was ending, the glass was still half full.

“You want us to split up?” Nick whisper shouts, a clear alarm evident in his tone. “Remember what happened last time? We lost a third of the group!” Nick flails his arms in desperation, almost like he’s willing Chris to realize the stupidity of his actions.

Nick was reasonable and smart, but too kind for his own good. If he wanted to, he could’ve become the leader of your group and done just as good of a job as Chris, but Nick was too empathic to take on that responsibility. He felt the needs of the group and often was led more by emotion than by reason or logic.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Chris bites back.

You stand next to Matt, watching the argument unfold. This was typical for Nick and Chris, but it stressed you out every time.

“If we had more people, we wouldn’t have to split up. But we’re low on supplies and can’t wait around for food to magically appear,” Chris says.

“If we hadn’t split up the first time, we’d have more people,” Nick snarks, storming away. Chris groans, running his hand through his hair. This was much more responsibility than he could handle, but as the youngest, strongest members of your group it was up to you all to pull the heaviest weight.

“We’ll be fine. Y/n and I are always careful,” Matt finally chimes in, placing a firm hand on Chris’s shoulder to ease any tension. “Besides, that part of town is pretty deep into the woods. I doubt any infected will be lurking and if they are, Y/n’s good with a gun and I’m fast.”

“I’m fast too,” you chuckle, knowing that Matt is trying to make light of a dark situation.

“True. I just gotta be faster,” he replies, sending you a cheeky wink. You laugh, earning a small round of laughter from Chris and Matt in return.

Chris visibly relaxes, grateful that at least one of his brothers isn’t giving him a hard time. But truth be told, Matt didn’t agree with Chris’s plan, he was just smart enough to keep it to himself. He knew that doubt created fear, and once fear infected you, you were as good as dead.

That’s what Matt was good at, being quiet. It came in handy on runs like this, especially because he was so quick on his feet. It’s your favorite characteristic of his, he’s a good listener, he’s observant, and you know that you’ll be safe as long as Matt is with you.

“Alright. Let’s head out, we’re gonna lose the light,” Chris instructs, jogging in the opposite direction of the camp to begin loading up a few trucks with guns and ammo.

“You two can take the car.”

Matt mulls the idea over. A car would be faster, but definitely much louder. Noise attracts anything looking for its next meal, especially the infected, and with only you to cover him he’s not sure he’s willing to take that risk.

“Nah. We’re walking. The town’s not too far, we’ll make it back by tomorrow morning the latest,” Matt replies, tossing a rifle in your direction. You’re quick to catch it and just as quick to respond, “Are you sure? A car would get us there and back before dinner.”

He understands your concern, but he can’t risk losing you, not after all the losses he’s already suffered. “Just trust me,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes being enough to calm your nerves.

“Whatever you have to do, Matt. Just come back,” Chris says, slamming the trunk shut.

—

Leaves and dry grass crunch under your feet with every step. It’s late summer and the Texas heat has managed to kill everything left alive that wasn’t infected.

You’ve been walking for two hours, only running into a few infected on the way, managing to take them out with nothing but your blade. Matt hates using guns, in fact you’ve only seen him use them on very rare and necessary occasions. You never understood his apprehension, I mean it’s the end of the world for Christ’s sake, but you’ve never questioned him.

“Heads up,” Matt whispers, nodding his head in the direction of a gas station.

You follow his gaze. It seemed like an easy place to loot. Apart from the few rotted corpses that roamed the exterior, only parked cars litter the parking lot, most of them still connected to the gas pumps.

“We’ll go in through the back. There’s got to be dry storage there,” Matt says, crouching and leading you towards the back of the building. You hum in response, readying yourself with your weapon and following closely behind.

Your scent must carry because as soon as you’re within 10 feet of the infected, their attention is drawn to you. Their arms are limp at their sides and their walk is more of a stagger, but it always manages to get your blood pumping.

“Hurry!” Matt whisper shouts, reaching behind him for your hand. Soon he’s pulling you into the building, shutting it securely behind you and bringing his pointer finger up to his lips to instruct you to keep quiet.

“I’ll go left. You go right,” you mouth, beginning to walk the aisles of the store while ensuring to keep your back to the wall. Matt nods, perusing the aisles as best he can while his life is in immediate danger.

Infected bite and claw at the glass windows, snarling as they watch you and Matt like prey. Sometimes you wondered what their life was like before they were bit, but the second one is close enough to harm you, all sympathy leaves and you don’t think twice before unloading the clip.

When you’re sure the building is secure you put your knife away and grab a shopping basket, securing it in the pit of your elbow as you load it with as many supplies as you can. Chips, jerky, candy, canned food, oil, rags, water, any and everything you two can carry is being thrown into these baskets.

“How are gonna get all of this back?” You ask Matt, noticing the even greater pile he’s accumulated. He scratches his head, taking a look around for something that’ll help lighten the load.

From the corner of his eye he spots a few duffel bags. Matt grabs a few and motions for you to begin packing them with as much as possible. “If they get too heavy I’ll carry them.”

“Bet you wish we had a car now,” you chuckle, neatly organizing the duffel bags.

“Not when those things are staring back at me,” Matt says, shuddering as he looks behind his shoulder to see the group of infected that have pooled at the entrance of the building.

—

You’re carrying two duffel bags full of supplies, one weighing on either one of your shoulders. Matt’s holding three, two rest on his shoulders and he’s carrying the other in his hand. He holds the straps so tight that his knuckles have managed to turn white.

The both of you are exhausted from the strength you’re using to carry this supplies back to your camp, from the long trek up-hill, and the energy you exerted to take out at least a dozen infected.

You stumble on a rock, the weight on your shoulders making it difficult for you to fix your footing. “Hey, you okay?” Matt asks, examining you with his eyes.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” you wheeze, hunching over and supporting yourself with your hands on your knees.

Matt’s tired too, of course he is, but it’s not like you two can set up camp in the middle of nowhere while surrounded by infected. He remembers seeing a few houses further up the road, it’s not a long walk and if you can make it, you’ll be able to rest there until morning.

“C’mon I think I saw a neighborhood, just push through a little longer. We’ll rest there for tonight and pick back up in the morning, okay?”

He waits for you to catch your breath, rubbing your back and comforting you, but never once letting his guard down in case something gets a jump on him.

You take a deep breath, straightening up and adjusting the duffel bag’s straps on your shoulders.

“Okay.”

—

The walk to the neighborhood was much longer than you thought, and you were starting to wonder if you were lost.

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

Matt looks at you from behind his shoulder, subtly rolling his eyes before averting his gaze forward again. “You wanna lead the way, princess?”

The nickname makes you chuckle, mostly because you knew Matt used it when his mood was starting to sour and that only ever happened when he was hungry or tired. By the looks of it, he was starting to become both.

A small town comes into view just as you’re about to reply. It looks like you’ve stumbled across the Main Street, and as packed as it is with abandoned businesses and stores, a residential home is nowhere to be seen. “Didn’t I tell you I saw a town,” Matt snarks, a hint of sass laced in his tone.

You hum. “No. You said you saw a neighborhood. There isn’t a house anywhere to be seen. We might as well season ourselves for the damn infected to eat.”

A twig snaps in the distance. Your voices, although relatively quiet, have already worked towards alerting the undead of your presence.

“Shut up,” Matt grits, pulling you close to his body. You know better than to argue, instead pressing your back against his and unsheathing your knife.

Snarling and growling echoes through the town, bouncing off the buildings and making it difficult for you to pinpoint exactly what direction they’re coming from. That doesn’t stop Matt though, instead he uses the hand that isn’t holding a knife to grab your arm.

“Stay close,” he mouths, so inaudible that you almost don’t catch it. You nod your head, taking a fleeting look at your surroundings before following Matt through a back alley between a cafe and a gym (or what used to be a cafe and a gym).

The alley is a dead end, fenced off at the end with nothing but hungry zombies reaching through the metal rods in attempt to grab you. The old you would’ve screamed and cried for help, but you’ve learned to suppress your fear in order to survive.

You take a firm hold of your knife, stabbing it into the head of as many infected as you can. Quiet grunts emit from you and Matt as you clear the path, watching undead body after body hit the ground. For a second you feel sad, but only for a second. You don’t have time for trivial things such as emotions anymore, especially not when a trail of flesh eating monsters follows closely behind.

“Through here. C’mon,” Matt ushers, opening a door that leads into a gym. Although it’s safer than being stranded outside, the brick walls can only protect you for so long. You do a quick sweep of the room, looking for anything useful while also ensuring there aren’t any hidden surprises.

Once you’re sure it’s safe, you motion for Matt to follow you with a head tilt. He locks the door behind him, barricading it with an old elliptical before following you into the next room.

You enter a changing room, lined with showers and lockers that were sure to have at least one fresh pair of clothes. You set the heavy bags you’ve been carrying down, sighing with relief as you stretch your shoulders. Matt does the same, joining you in rummaging through the lockers for a new, clean shirt.

A lot of the clothes is tucked away in backpacks, most of it being unflattering male clothing, but you weren’t big on fashion nowadays. “Here. Found this for you,” Matt says, tossing a white tank top your way. You hold it up in the light, “Cute. Thanks.”

You’re about to change your shirt, without any real warning for Matt, so he quickly looks away and fixes his gaze on the shower heads and tiled walls. His hands fiddled with an unopened bar of soap he found in one of the lockers. Matt doesn’t know why he grabbed it, it’s not like he had access to running water, but a man could dream.

“I wonder if the showers work,” he thinks out loud.

You stand behind him, wearing only your bra and underwear as you wonder the same thing. God knows you could both use a shower right now. “Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head in wonder.

“Only one way to find out,” you shrug, pushing past Matt and sauntering over to the knob. You twist it quickly, patiently waiting for even a single drop of water.

Nothing, just groaning pipes and a slap in the face for naivety.

“Guess they don’t,” you say, standing under the shower head and looking at Matt with a sad smile. He chuckles, and just as he’s about to give up too, hot water spurts out abruptly, hitting the back of your head and running down your spine.

“Holy shit that’s hot!” You gasp. In all the excitement, Matt forgets how inappropriate it would be to join you in the shower under regular circumstances, and throws his clothes off. You’ve somehow already managed to remove your remaining clothing and have started scrubbing at your skin with your bare hands, letting the water run down your face.

“Matt! Hurry before it runs out!” You say, waving your hand behind you blindly. He doesn’t skip a beat, joining you under the shower head and letting it relax his sore, aching muscles. The water draws an audible groan from his lips, bringing you back to reality. You were naked and taking a shower with Matt, someone who was a stranger to you before the end of the world.

Suddenly, he remembers the bar of soap still in his hands and he accidentally takes in your naked figure as he opens it. His dick immediately rises, a clear indicator that he’s enjoying the view.

“Turn around,” he instructs, running the soap under the water and lathering his hands up. You do as your told, immediately feeling his fingers tangle themselves in your hair as he massages your scalp. It wasn’t necessarily an in depth hair wash routine, but it would suffice for now.

Soon, you’re turning around and rinsing the soap from your hair before reaching for the bar and instructing Matt to do the same.

“Here lemme get you now.” You shuffle behind him, tip toeing to reach better. Although it was odd and unexpected, you were glad to be sharing this moment with Matt.

The rest of the shower is silent as you and Matt bask in the warm water that runs down your bruised and battered bodies. You try keeping your limbs to yourselves, save for the brief moments Matt’s erect member brushes against your thigh or butt, but it’s hard when there’s only one shower head. You want to say something, mostly because you’ve had a crush on Matt from the moment you met him and his group, but you don’t. This isn’t about pleasure, not in this world at least. It’s about survival and the second you forget that, you get hurt.

“Haven’t felt that clean in years,” Matt chuckles, shoving a shirt over his head. The shower seems to have brought his spirits up, providing both of you with a new surge of energy. Little things like running water meant so much more now, especially when you’re trudging through highly forested areas and fighting for you life on the daily.

As you’re about to reply, a loud bang echoes through the locker room, followed by the sound of shuffling in your direction. You’re putting your pants on, buckling them quickly as you try to keep quiet. Your eyes are wide in fear and anticipation, watching Matt for a signal on what to do next.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing the duffel bags from before and darting his eyes towards the exit. Your gun, which you hadn’t used at all today, rests in your hand. Matt holds his as well. He’s on guard, raising the weapon close to his face as he inspects the area.

You follow behind him trying to keep as quiet as possible, fully expecting him to shoot whatever lurks behind the wall. But, as you near the exit, you see it.

Tense shoulders relax, lowering your weapon and sheathing it back into your belt. A squirrel sits on the cement floor, grooming itself and chittering away. You want to approach it, maybe even pet it, but Matt stops you with a hand to your chest.

Unlike you, he’d inspected the entirety of the situation and didn’t let himself become distracted by the first cute animal that crossed his path. After recognizing that it was a squirrel, he wondered what could’ve lead it into the building in the first place, causing him to check the window it entered through. A reanimated corpse stood right outside the window, dragging its feet as it paced back and forth in search of the fluffy animal.

“Let’s go. We’re done here,” Matt ordered, pulling you back towards the exit. And just like that, you were off to find somewhere to sleep, leaving the fluffy animal to fend for itself.

“Bye little guy.”

—

“Forgot how quiet and boring the world is,” you huff, slumping down onto the worn out mattress. Whatever energy the shower provided you was now long gone. You and Matt walked for another hour before finding the initial neighborhood you were searching for. And, after that, you spent another hour finding the perfect house and clearing all its rooms.

“Quiet’s nice,” Matt replies with a soft groan, joining you on the mattress. It sinks with his weight, the coils creaking as he becomes comfortable.

“You’re just saying that cause you want me to shut up so you can fall asleep.” You kick your shoes off and unbuckle your belt, letting it fall to floor with a soft thud. A smile tugs at Matt’s lips. “Right now yes. But in general, quiet’s good. Means we’re safe,” he replies, toeing his own shoes off.

Matt shuts his eyes, fluffing the pillow under his head and willing himself to finally get a full nights rest. This house is safe. He secured all the rooms, barricaded the doors, and his weapon is on standby. He can finally rest and relax. But, of course, your mind begins to wander and when your mind wanders, your words follow. “Guess you’re right… But quiet also means you’re not learning anything about the people you care about.”

A deep breath causes Matt’s chest to rise and fall. He doesn’t understand why you’re trying to be all philosophical at the end of the world. Nonetheless, he responds, “I know you, Y/n. I know you’re strong, I know you’re a kind person, and I know you have my back. I also know you’re annoying, but I trust you and I learned all that from watching. Sometimes you just have to watch people. In quiet. Can we sleep now?” He turns onto his side facing away from you in hopes that you’ll drop the topic and fall asleep.

You stare at his back. “Those are all things you learned about me now. I was nothing like this back then.”

Matt takes another deep breath. It’s obvious you’re in the mood to talk, maybe because you finally feel safe enough to keep your voice anything above a whisper, so he decides just to give in and turn your monologue into actual dialogue.

“Back then?” He asks. Matt shuffles on the mattress, now staring at the ceiling as your eyes remain on him. “Yeah, before everything went to shit. Before the end of the stupid fucking world when the little things used to matter. You know, like first kisses and picking the perfect outfit for a date with a cute guy.”

Matt picks at his fingernails, listening to every word that escapes your lips. When you put it that way, he really didn’t know anything about you. “Okay, so tell me about yourself then. Pretend like we’re not in a strangers house, in a strangers room, on a strangers bed, and tell me all about Y/n… Before the ‘end of the stupid fucking world.’”

You chuckle, preparing yourself for the vulnerability you’re about to put on full display, but now that he’s put you on the spot it’s much harder than you thought.

“Okay so… you already know my name. Hmm. My favorite color is pink?”

Matt scoffs. “That’s the real you? C’mon, you can’t go on this whole tangent about how you were different before and then say THAT.”

“Fine fine.” You think for a second. “I was a waitress at a hotel bar. Mixing drinks was easy, the customers were nice, my coworkers made the job tolerable. Mostly only worked weekends because I was at school during the week… I went to UCLA. Go Bruins!,” you let out a breathy laugh, “My siblings were going to visit me that weekend, the weekend it all happened. They had planned the trip for a long time and finally were gonna make the drive.”

Your mind goes to a dark place, the only thing anchoring you being the hand that Matt places on yours. You clear your throat before continuing, “I had a small off campus apartment. Cleared the living room out and everything for them. Even deep cleaned.” Matt squeezes your hand.

“College was fun while it lasted. My parents worked really hard to send me off. They threw me a going away party and everything, even dressed up my dog as the school mascot,” a small pause as you recollect your thoughts, “I had a puppy named Pig. Well he wasn’t a puppy, more like an old fart, but the name suited him. Named him after my favorite animal and because he had the pinkest nose when he first adopted him.”

You feel yourself becoming increasingly sad as you reminisce on what once was. “You know what? Maybe quiet is nice,” you laugh solemnly, wiping the tears that are rolling down your face.

Matt offers you a warm smile, thinking of something, anything, to get you to smile again. But he can’t help it, he’s curious, and since you’re already on the topic he wants to pry further into your personal life. “What were you going to school for?”

“Engineering. I’m shit with numbers, but I was pretty undecided so my parents just chose for me. Brandon would help me a lot. He was really smart… really sweet… But enough about me, tell me about you. Who was Matt before all this?”

Matt ignores your question, instead posing one of his own. “Who’s Brandon? Was he your boyfriend?” He cringes slightly, both at his boldness and at his lack of awareness of your vulernable, emotional state, but his curiosity keeps getting the best of him.

You snort. “Brandon? God no. He was my best friend, sure, but I was definitely not his type. Plus, I never had time for anything serious. I made time for the fun stuff, but never the commitment.” Matt couldn’t hide the relief on his face even he tried. A relationship status meant nothing during a zombie apocalypse, yet he found himself relieved to know that your heart didn’t belong to another.

“I’m sure you had girls swarming you,” you continue jokingly, poking Matt’s sides with a teasing edge. He makes a noise, something between a groan and chuckle as he runs his hands down his face.

“I take that as a yes?”

He hums, remembering the short lived internet fame he shared with his triplet brothers before shit hit the fan. “Some would say that. If you consider subscribers and followers as swarming girls.”

You visibly cringe, “Oh God. Were you one of those thirst trappers? Bet you went to influencer parties and vlogged your morning routine.” Matt laughs loudly, a genuine laugh, one of the few you’ve heard from him since you met.

“Rent was due, okay?” He replies between laughter. Soon you’re both laughing, bodies clumsily bumping as you clutch your stomach and wipe away tears. Your bodies are impossibly close, closer than they should be on a queen sized mattress, and you only notice it once your laughter dies down.

Your eyes have locked with his and your noses even manage to graze. Neither of you make an effort to look away or even to apologize for invading the other’s space. Instead, you do the unthinkable, the one thing you didn’t allow yourself to even think about doing even when he was naked in front of you earlier. You kiss him. You lean forward and close the gap, moulding your lips onto his.

Matt doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the kiss. His hands find a comfortable resting place on your upper thigh and lower back, using the little energy left in his body to pull you closer. One of your hands lays on his chest while the other gently weaves its way through his hair.

The kiss is sweet and innocent, and it could’ve been over by now, but because you’re both so touch starved you separate for air and dive right back in. You moan against his lips, caressing the side of his face your thumb before moving so you’re cradling his waist. Subconsciously, as if on instinct, you grind down onto him, wanting to feel and explore him further.

Matt wants to go further, and he knows you know it too, especially with the display he put on earlier in the shower, but he’s a virgin who’s afraid to disappoint. So, he pulls away from the kiss and holds your hips in place with strong hands.

“I— Give me a second,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut and gulping so hard his adam’s apple bobs up and down. Matt’s mind is racing, every possible outcome for this situation playing through his mind.

You sense his apprehension, plus it’s written all over his face. You never want to push his boundaries or make him uncomfortable. So, you do the only thing you can think to do. Quickly, you shuffle off of him and off the bed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought— today in the shower— I’ll sleep downstairs on the couch.”

You begin to gather your things, leaving Matt dumbstruck as he stares between you and his raging erection. If he didn’t speak up now, you were going to get the wrong idea and he’d miss his chance at a shot with you. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

“Wait.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, gently pulling you back down onto the mattress.

Matt prepares himself for the vulnerability he’s about to display. He’s nervous, embarrassed, scared, and to top it off you’re the hottest girl he’s ever seen. And it’s not just because you’re the only one left either.

“I’m a virgin.”

Your eyes blow open in shock. “But earlier you said about the? I just thought?” He laughs at your inability to form a coherent sentence, but he gets the gist.

“It was hard to trust people when I was famous, especially girls. I never knew if they truly liked me or just wanted to have my name associated with them for the clout. But it’s different now, I know I can trust you. We took a shower together without making it weird after scavenging through old worn out clothes to find something slightly newer than what we had. You’re covered in the blood of monsters we killed to keep each other safe. You’re here with me when I have nothing permanent or safe to offer.” Matt pulls you back onto his lap, sitting up against the bed frame so your torsos are parallel.

“I should’ve said this a long time ago, but it’s hard to find the time when you’re fighting for your life on the daily… I care about you, Y/n. A lot. I’m not sure what to call it yet, but I care about you and I trust you. I trust you enough to do this.” You’re touched by his words, feeling their effect on your heartstrings and your throbbing core.

“I trust you too, Matt. So much more than you’ll ever know.” In that moment those words felt more real than an ‘i love you’ ever could. Matt leans forwards and kisses you, holding you by the neck. This kiss is different than the one from before, it’s needier and laced with lust.

His hands travel towards your tank top, tugging until he successfully untucks the fabric. You pull away from the kiss and lift your arms, allowing Matt to remove your shirt in one swift motion. The smile on his face as you slowly begin roaming your hands all over his body is genuine, filled with admiration, love and lust.

Your fingers beginning slipping his flannel over his shoulders, your mouth falling down to his broad shoulders to pepper kisses on the skin there. Soon, you’re both removing the rest of your clothes and Matt’s excitement has him flipping you over on the old, worn mattress. He gawks at the sight beneath him. You lay there completely exposed with only the soft moonlight that trickles in through the blinds to illuminate your body. Matt takes it all in, relishing in your beauty like it’s the last time, because in this world it very well might be.

A gentle hand trails from his stomach down to his penis, tracing the outside of his cock and watching intently at the way Matt’s eyes screw shut in concentration. It’s been so long since he’s touched himself and the sight of you alone is enough for him to combust, but he pulls himself together. You trace your thumb over the slit, coating his member with the natural lubrication that’s already spilling out before dragging his cock along your folds. Matt’s breath hitches at the new sensation, you already feel so warm and soft, he doesn’t know how he’s meant to last even one second once he’s actually inside you.

“We can stop if you want to.” Matt gulps, shaking his head feverishly. He doesn’t want this to stop, he’d never want this to stop, even if it hasn’t even really started yet. “No,” his voice is choked, “don’t stop.”

Your lip is caught between your teeth as you continue to guide the tip to your entrance, finally unwrapping your fingers from around him and instead wrapping your legs around his waist. Finally, Matt moves, sinking his cock into you slowly until he’s completely bottomed out. The initial feeling is euphoric, so euphoric in fact that his arms wobble as he tried to keep himself from collapsing on you. You love seeing him like this. A strong man who’d do anything to protect you, so weak and vulnerable from your touch.

His head finds the place where your neck and shoulder meet, forehead resting in the divot there as he slowly begins thrusting. Soft grunts and groans brush against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Praises fall from your own lips as his tip continues to kiss your cervix, egging him further in helping you reach your climax. But tonight was about him, as long as the man on top of you convulsed with pleasure you’d be happy.

Matt’s hips snap against yours, picking up the pace as he chases his orgasm. It’s so close, right on the edge, and from the way he sounds and feels you’re close too. “Keep going, Matt. Don’t stop,” you moan, pulling him in closer with your legs around his waist. Matt whimpers your name, sucking and biting on the skin of your neck harder with each passing thrust.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, words choppy and interrupted by pants and moans. All you can do is whimper in return, snaking a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. As soon as your fingers touch the sensitive bundle of nerves, your body goes into overdrive. Your legs are shaking, pussy fluttering around his cock as you grip his shoulders and moan his name. The feeling of your walls pushing and pulling around him, mixed with the way you chant his name, pushes Matt over the edge. His hips tremble slightly as he spills his load inside of you, his inexperience making it to where he’s unable to pull out before the wave of pleasure washed over his body.

Your bodies remain intertwined for a while, both of you trying to catch your breath. Matt reluctantly pulls out of you, relishing in the way your body chases after him. The mattress dips as he slumps into the spot next to you.

“Thank you.”

You turn to face Matt, a confused look on your face. You’re not sure where this will lead your relationship, but you never expected a thank you after sex, nor had you ever received one.

“Thank you?” You chuckle, curious to where the conversation was heading.

He hums. “Yeah, for not letting me die a virgin.” You can’t help the snort that follows.

“Well in that case, I guess you’re welcome. No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.”

Matt smiles again, a sight you’ll never grow tired of. He leans in for a kiss, pulling you close and keeping you there. The kiss is sloppy, mostly because you’re both exhausted from the days events, but neither of you dare pull away. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring or if there will even be a tomorrow, all you know is that this moment right here is real and you’d like to enjoy it for as long as possible.

“Get some rest, we have a long trip tomorrow.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Thank you so much for this request my sweet anon. I’m currently rewatching (binging) TWD and needed to get some zombie apocalypse type story out of my system, so I hope you don’t mind that I used that idea on your request. Also, I know you requested for the reader to teach Matt and I didn’t include really any of that here. I focused on the whole Virgin!Matt aspect of it all. Hope you all enjoy, sorry for not writing a lot recently :P I’m deep in the trenches of Daryl Dixon fanfiction right now so if u need me, that’s where you’ll find me (if u can’t already tell by my reblogs lolol)

ps, I didn’t go to UCLA so if that’s not the mascot don’t kill me. A quick google search told me that much

luv u all xxx

- L.A.M.B 💗👼🏻

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @rxeae @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow @sturnstvr @inkyray @stasiesturn @poopiepantsworld @cvnt4matty @eleanore2204 @fratbrochrisgf

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[soulbutterlanguages]

How to build a language self-study plan

So I’ve noticed, upon combing through pages and pages of youtube videos and google blogs, that rarely does anyone ever actually tell you what you should be studying. There’s a reason for this ! Everyone is different and at a different level, different motivation. It’s impossible to create a study plan that is perfect for everyone... which is why it can also be agonizing to make one for yourself. 

“How am I supposed to know what’s important to study, if I don’t speak the language?” 

Well that’s a good question! You need to gauge how far you’ve come so far and how far you’d like to get. It’s easiest when you are starting from zero because you can learn the alphabet, numbers, basic phrases, and basic grammar. Easy peasy. You can go cover to cover in a text book. 

Here’s a check-list to create the perfect study plan special to you. 

1. What do I know already? What do I need to work on?

- is it worth starting a textbook, if you feel like you already know half of it? It might be worth completing the given exercises and if you achieve an 80% or higher (or you could give that lesson to someone else) then you can move on from that specific point.

- create a list of the points that you still need to master

2. What do I need to include in a study session?

- naturally there needs to be a focus or a few different focuses of a study session, whether it’s a specific activity or a grammar point. I recommend creating a list of things you want to get done (a.) every day, (b) every week, and (c) every month. These goals must be quantifiable. For example, every week I read two news articles in German. As a reflection, I then write a summary of the event of the article as well as a personal opinion. That’s an easy box to check.

- you need a reflection. It’s important to really take time to reflect on how you feel about the time spent and the materials used. What could you do better next time? What went well? 

3. When is the best time to study? 

- are you more active/focused in the morning or in the night? The key is consistency. If you have a routine, you’re far more likely to adhere to it. I know that my own schedule is highly changeable and that can make it very difficult, but I’ve found if I wake up in the same period of time every morning, brush my teeth, make my bed, and then sit down to my work, I feel far more productive. 

- how much should I study at a time? The recommended period is 25 minutes from the Pomodoro Method with a five minute break. You can research time-management techniques but ultimately it comes down to you. 

4. How do I take notes ?

- IT”S ALL ABOUT YOU! What I do is take messy notes in classes or on my own and then I transcribe the finished page to my Notion page. It gives me a chance to make the notes neater and also to review a little bit. I will say though statistically, you will remember better if you write by hand. 

- I like to have a column on each page for words I didn’t know

[peapodbond]

I'm going to hit Tim Minear with a calendar.

Okay, so, first of all. I'm a Teen Wolf fan. I'm used to wonky timelines. (Lydia had two canonical birthdays!) And 9-1-1 did get a little wonky! There are references that contradict each other all time, but since there is no set 'length' of time that each episode covers, maybe they do all work together. Could go either way!

But. For real. Abby? Seriously?

I have indulged in the Abby and Tommy jokes before. It is, objectively, hilarious to imagine.

But the math just is not mathing with what was given as their backstory.

2018: Buck is working at the 118, done his probie spot?? (in 1×2, Buck says he's been on the job for six months), and meets Abby.

2017: Abby and 'Tommy' break up. (as per her voiceovers)

2015-2017: Abby and 'Tommy' were engaged (as per Tommy saying they were engaged for two years)

?? - 2017: Abby and Tommy were dating. I have to assume it was at least six months? So at minimum, they were together for 2.5 years.

Let's recap! Chim came to the 118 in 2005. Hen came to the 118 in 2010 (there is some fun Twilight math involved, ask me about that sometime). Bobby shows up before Buck (in 1×5, Hen says he's been there for a year so it would have been six months before Buck, but Bobby Begins Again gets loosey-goosey with the time and it ~seems~ in that episode as though he went straight from Minnesota to LA after his family died and he got sober the first time, and the title cards in that episode say the fire happened in 2014. I don't really believe that he was at loose ends and drinking for two years. At that point in time he would have decided that the sooner he got back to work the sooner he could save 148 people and see his family again.)

Tommy, Hen, Chim and Sal were all friendly by the time that Bobby showed up. They made bets with each other, hung out after work, and razzed each other about stealing lunch money. This is a friendship that started shortly after Gerrard was removed (also 2010, because Hen was still a probie when the car accident happened) and continued until Sal and Tommy left the 118 in 2017.

You are telling me that Tommy managed to have a two and a half (minimum!) YEAR relationship, and that neither Chim nor Hen (nor Bobby!) met her, heard her name, and connected the dots when she started showing up with Buck?

Tommy, who was closeted and didn't feel safe coming out. Didn't mention his girlfriend slash fiancée so that people would stop asking about his relationship?

Not to mention that in Bobby Begins Again when they're all at the bar, Tommy mentions that being single is easier. So he's single! Which means that even with Abby waiting a year to hook up with the himbo the math doesn't math properly either.

And in Lou's interview with Decider he said that it was only decided recently that Abby and Tommy were going to be a thing.

Tim had seven years worth of timeline knowledge to figure that out. It feels like the length of the relationship was decided on so that Josh could give that (actually awesome) speech at dispatch.

(Also after hearing that 8×5 was written to be so good so that everyone would be even more upset in 8×6, it feels like it was just written to make it hurt even worse.)

So, it could have absolutely been written that they both dated Abby, but to be honest? It's more compelling if it had been earlier. When Chim is hired at the 118 Gerrard is asking Tommy when his girlfriend is coming to cook dinner - in 2005, fresh out of the army and DADT and faced with a boss that is homophobic, of course Tommy, at 21, would date a woman and go so far as to get engaged. And he and Chim, who were barely friends at that point, would not have been talking about their personal lives then. Of course, that would retcon the fact that 'Tommy ' and Abby had only broken up the year before the show started, but it would actually still work for the Patricia reference - Buck would have been much closer to Tommy's age when they would have dated, and Alzheimer's means that twenty years and twenty minutes can feel like the same amount of time away from you.

There. I made it make sense! And I didn't even have a team of writers and producers to guide me along the way.

[kobold-that-bites-people]

dunno if this will get to anyone that it's relevant to, but as a transfem that's had bottom surgery (a rather standard penile inversion vaginoplasty) and is mostly recovered at this point, i'd like to give a few notes on my experience. hopefully it reaches some people who are considering and would be helped by such anecdotes. anyway, in no particular order,

it's major surgery. recovery is gonna suck about the same as other major surgeries. that said, a lot of the discomfort is frontloaded. in my case, i experienced about 2/3 of the pain i could attribute to recovery over the last six months, in the first week. the sheer drop in pain once the catheter came out alone was night and day. the first week was miserable though, you *need* someone, ideally multiple someones, who can look after you through that stage. (if you are in the green lands of not america, or just are well funded, many hospitals will look after you for the first week or so, but as a broke american i was only in hospital for about a day and a half. maybe two days, memory is a little fuzzy from the opiates (which i stopped almost as soon as i got out of the hospital, the brain fog from opiates is real)

it's been said other places, but it is really likely you will experience a lot of emotions during recovery. this can take a lot of forms, but in my case i had to grapple with a lot of "doubts" about if it was even what i wanted, if it was worth it to me, if it even looked natural enough, and so on. part of that is just that it's a major change in your body image, so doubts are normal and expected. part of it is that after major physical trauma like surgery, your body will amplify a lot of emotions intensely. try not to listen to the dysphoria talking when things still need to heal. the difference between a week from the surgery and a couple months later is *massive*.

this might be obvious to a lot of people, but for people like me that have only ever been even slightly intimate with partners that have cocks, pussies come in a *lot* of shapes. the very limited range depicted in a lot of common art and porn and games and so on, is simply not a representative sample of all the shapes that a pussy can be. despite my anxieties over my own, every person that has seen it so far has either had explicit compliments, or at least backhanded ones about how "normal" it looks.

despite how cautious doctors will be about promising function, it is entirely possible you'll have every function you might expect from a natal vagina. i get a not insignificant amount of self lubrication, can feel everything better than i dared hope for, and despite having to completely relearn what motions work for it i can reliably reach orgasms just as well as i could pre-op. that said, i don't self lubricate quite as much as *some* cis women manage. it's usually enough for fingering myself, but if i wanted to use a toy, or be penetrated by a partner, it simply isn't reasonable to go without generous lube. mostly because while i have some self-lubrication, it isn't exactly produced *quickly*, and friction can quickly dry it up, especially outside my entrance.

dilation can be many things, but it's usually mostly just tedious. it hurt *some* at the start, but once the swelling went down it generally only hurt as i went up a size. nowadays i only feel a miniscule amount of pain with the stretch as i work my largest dilator in, and that fades within about 30 seconds. the better you are at getting it done reliably, the less it will hurt. missing a session, especially earlier in recovery, will be *felt* the next time you dilate.

if you are open about your having had bottom surgery, or end up hospitalized from complications thereof, (as i did, i'll spare the medical details) there are a lot of people that will try to justify wanting to see, for motives that i'll leave as an exercise to the reader to deduce. such people will include doctors, nurses, and plenty of people with more spurious motives. i've had more people barge in on me while i was dilating within the last months since i had bottom surgery, than ever barged in on me while i was masturbating in the earlier 26 years of my life. *please* be aware that part of being perceived as "more a woman" is that you will likely experience more such attentions, in the various forms that takes. sometimes positive it is true, but usually not.

[markantonys]

a few more bridgerton thoughts! i've always been only a casual enjoyer who watches just for a few hours of fun and doesn't get super invested, but even so, i'm still feeling pretty underwhelmed by this season so far. i watched it in one sitting and enjoyed it while it was happening but just immediately forgot about it as soon as i was done. maybe all the memorable moments are going to be in the second half of the season, but for these first four episodes, i feel like it was all just kinda bland and forgettable (granted, of all the romance tropes in the world, m/f childhood-friends-to-lovers is just about the #1 most boring one to me, so this never would've been my favorite season regardless)

i adore romance and romcoms, always have, and am pretty happy to watch The Classic Marriage Plot play out a thousand times, yet i feel like bridgerton is maybe becoming TOO formulaic and repetitive. although, to be fair, i WAS giggling and kicking my feet during all the Classic Romance Scenes, but the problem was maybe just that there weren't enough of them, which brings me to my second point of too many subplots. too much padding and filler and not enough Classic Romance, which is what i'm here for.

8 hours is way more time than is needed to tell 1 love story, so to fill up the time they invent 17 random subplots that are ultimately pointless and have little relevance outside of the current season. i would way rather a season be only 4 episodes but tightly focused on the main love story, or that a season be about two siblings and two main love stories at a time, than have all this extra time they need to fill up with random unimportant shit. why have we had 3 seasons' worth of storylines about benedict having one-off non-endgame girlfriends that don't have a lasting impact on his character development? what's the point? he's been treading water for so long that i'm not even going to care about him anymore by the time he finally comes into the spotlight, and same with eloise. god, the thought of eloise's season potentially not being until like 2027 is insane. it's past time to start picking up the pace and doing 2 siblings per season!

and the kicker is that all these subplots, which were only invented to fill up the time, end up filling too MUCH time and taking away from the main love story, which is left feeling underbaked. this sort of happened last season, but it's way worse this season. penelope is an excellent character, but her back is breaking from trying to carry the season because colin is kinda giving us nothing due to lack of narrative attention given to him as an individual. he's supposed to be the co-lead, yet i couldn't tell you a single personality trait of his besides "vaguely nice" because he's just had no development and exists more as a prop for penelope to love than as a fleshed-out character in his own right. there was that whole scene where violet was talking about how he's a people pleaser who focuses on making others happy at the expense of his own wants and happiness, and i was just sitting there going "he is?" because i didn't feel i'd ever gotten to know him enough as a person to see this trait in him.

i also think the "dropping a season in 2 halves" model is just about the worst possible release model. if you drop 1 episode a week, that's constant engagement and allows for longer time to digest and appreciate each individual episode. if you drop the whole season at once, it's all over too fast but on the flipside you can experience the entire story at once without risking forgetting things or losing interest while waiting for new episodes. but dropping in two halves a month apart is the worst of both models (over too quickly yet also makes you wait too long to finish the story).

i do like some of the subplots, though. cressida getting to be more than just a mean girl caricature has been a particular highlight, the mondrich family going suddenly from working class to noble is interesting to see, and as a mega-introvert myself (and a music lover!) whose ideal partner would be someone who's happy to sit in silence with me, francesca and john's whole vibe is THE definition of romance to me and has me absolutely swooning (and it's a nice change of pace from all the loud dramatic romances on this show). violet potentially finding new love is also very sweet and i'm rooting hard for her! meanwhile i am not a fan of the featherington subplot; after s1 portraying regency girls' lack of sex education as a serious issue, it feels.........odd for the show to now be playing that very same thing for laughs this season and it just kinda makes me uncomfortable.

but otherwise there isn't much i dislike about the season, it's just kinda "meh" to me so far. the second half might turn things around if it's more memorable!

[prythiansfavoritefox]

Elain focused on her breathing, trying to steady them. 1, 2, 3. She had had the dream again. The dream that was not a dream, but an unfortunate reality she had to relive every time she fell asleep.

Her father, who had died in front of their very eyes. Her father who had been depressed and disabled for much of his life, but came back to fight for them in the end. Who had been so heartlessly murdered by the King of Hybern.

She took a shaky breath as the tears began to fall down her face. She missed her father so badly, but she could not speak to this with her sisters, who had resented him greatly. And she understood, she really did, but...it would be nice to speak to someone who truly loved him for once.

Alas, there was no one to speak to but a cold grave. Getting up, Elain brushed her hair, sweeping it into an elegant bun. She hesitated, looking at the coat in the closet before deciding she didn't have the strength to fight her need for comfort. She threw on the coat, savoring the lingering scents on it.

Nobody else appeared to be awake. Good. She wished to take this journey alone without being followed or questioned. She wasn't stupid; she knew Nuala and Cerridwen had been set on her to keep track of her movements. Well, there was little she could do to counter that. At least she could befriend them and try to get them on her side so she could gain benefits.

The entire Inner Circle would probably faint with shock if they saw that Elain had taken such a long journey on her own two feet. It's not proper for a lady to walk this far! She's too delicate to walk this much! Pahhh. They always seemed to forget that they would all be dead were it not for her killing the King of Hybern. It wasn't something she much liked to talk about because of her aversion to violence, but some days she wished to scream it so that they'd think she's actually worth something.

Hell, Cassian would be dead too were it not for her. He had lost so much blood due to the shredded wings that he had been inches away from death. Elain had used her healing powers on him, and Cassian, half-delirious with blood loss, had not realized what she'd done. Not even Elain knew how she'd done it, considering when Feyre had been bleeding and dying months later, she had been unable to summon the powers again, no matter what she did.

The only good thing about that was that Nesta had managed to save them and the Inner Circle didn't know about her raw magic, otherwise they would find a way to use her too. No, better they think her a useless silly little thing.

As she walked towards the headstone, to her surprise, she already found somebody there, kneeling beside him. For a wild moment, Elain thought that it might be Nesta. She knew she had somewhat made her peace with him recently, so it wasn't entirely out of the realm. She began to run towards her father's resting spot, crying out, "Nesta!" The person beside the grave turned around. Elain's words died in her throat.

"You're-you're not Nesta." Way to be fucking obvious, Elain. But she could hardly think with him near her. When she wasn't dreaming of her father's death and stabbing the King of Hybern, she was dreaming of him.

Well, shit. She was wearing the cloak Lucien had given her that day by the Cauldron. How embarrassing. Her face went beet red as Lucien's eyes focused on her, taking note of her bare legs and the cloak around her shoulders. Her body began to pulse everywhere from her chest to between her legs, and she knew Lucien could hear it. She clenched her hands in her dress, resisting the urge to grab him at that very moment and kiss him senseless. That would be highly inappropriate; they were at her father's grave, for god's sake.

"Elain," he said so quietly she almost didn't hear it, leaping to his feet and bowing to her. "Apologies, lady. I shall leave you to grieve in peace."

Elain grabbed his wrist as he was about to leave. How could she have forgotten? He'd known her father. He'd gone to the continent and brought him back based on her vision. "Please," she breathed. "Stay."

Lucien looked at her hand then back into her eyes. "Ok," he said slowly. He lowered himself down to the grave again, Elain going with him. They sat there in comfortable silence for some time before Elain whispered, "You knew him. My father."

"Yes, I knew Tristan. He was a good man, at least in the time I knew him," he replied. "Feyre never seemed too fond of him, though."

Elain sighed. "Feyre and Nesta never forgave him for leaving us to fend for ourselves during poverty."

"Well, I can't blame them." Elain opened her mouth to protest, but he went on. "But he'd lost his wife and could hardly walk. I don't blame him for hurting either. He tried his best, in the end, to do right by you girls."

Elain nodded. "Poor Papa. Feyre and Nesta were always snapping at him for making his little wood carvings instead of finding a way out of poverty. Perhaps if they'd been a little gentler with him, he might have..." a sigh. "Anyway, he's gone now."

Lucien squeezed her hand. "No one dies as long as their reputation lasts." Elain snorted lightly. "Are you some sort of philosopher or something?" Lucien raised his brows teasingly. "Maybe I am."

Elain couldn't resist smiling back. "What was he like? Papa. With you."

Lucien smiled reminiscently. "He was a very single-minded person. He might have only been human, yet he could command a room with his voice. Very charming, very forthright. And he couldn't shut up about you girls." He laughed. "I remember when I finally told him that we're mates, he grilled me for hours. About my birth, my occupations, my habits. Internally I was terrified of disappointing him, but at the end he just handed me a drink and said, 'You don't look quite like the man I imagined my Elain will marry, but you certainly act like the man I want her to marry.' Then he told me stories about all your childhoods for the rest of the night."

Elain beamed. That sounded a lot more like her father before their family had been lost to poverty. It made her happy that her father was able to be more like himself with someone before he'd left. "Thank you for telling me this," she murmured. "It's nice to talk to someone who knew him as I did."

Lucien inclined his head. "Happy to be of service, my lady."

Elain leaned her head against his shoulder and did not move for a long time.

Inspired by the post I saw a while ago saying Lucien visits Papa Archeron's grave!

[wexhappyxfew]

home is an anchor

(a/n): annie x brady girlies we're back with another piece where we finally dig a bit into annie's background; was trying to go for a bit more light-hearted again, but instead...it got a little bit sad at parts, so don't mind that. between listening to sad taylor swift songs + hard school week, just needed to put emotions somewhere and here we are :) sometimes we all need a little comfort that feels just like home......

Her mother wasn't really the best at playing the 'mother-role' but she had tried her best, especially with the amount of siblings running around.

Her father had been away in a local mechanic garage, working his hardest to earn what money he could for his family and her older brother, Roy, at the peak age of 16 was going to the mill everyday to earn some extra cash, as Annie and the rest of her younger siblings had done chores around the house, cleaning, washing, scrubbing, keeping the farm running the best they could.

And Annie, being the second oldest, just under Roy, who was always away, the stress and weight of everything seemed to fall right on her shoulders. And the nights her father was working until 2 in the morning, and the stress was far too much for her mother, who went and would drink the night away with what she could scrounge, Annie would take care of her other siblings - and when Roy would get back just after dinner, he'd help out the best he could.

They'd work side by side, feeding, cleaning, locking up the house at night, getting their 5 younger siblings into beds, washed and clean and ready for sleep without a worry in the world. Annie would forget about herself, usually taking whatever was left after everyone had eaten, usually the last to sleep or she'd stay up and wait for her father to get home so that'd he'd be taken care of. The Depression had been the hardest - not just weeks or months like that, but years. Years of that, day in and day out.

So, being here at Thorpe Abbotts - it was like it was telling her that had all been worth it.

She was currently cramped in one of the chairs in the officers' club chairs by the crackling fire, listening to the patter of rain somewhere above her, half in-and-out of sleep as she curled into herself, trying to catch up on sleep that she had missed the previous night. They'd been up so early for today's mission that the tossing and turning of her sleep had done nothing but make her run on only about an hour of sleep by that point.

Annie felt something drape over her body, instantly becoming warmer and she cracked an eye open and saw that it was Brady who had laid the blanket, who was moving himself over towards the chair opposite the table that was at her side, settling down with undoubtedly a cup of something that would take off the edge.

The blanket was warm and instantly made her a bit more exhausted than she had been previously; she shifted around a bit and then cracked open her eyes more and turned her head towards Brady, squinting at him and yawning.

"Thanks." she said through her yawn, slowly sitting up, her hair a bit wet from coming out of Silver Bullets in a torrential downpour, the chill of the evening rolling in, as she rubbed at her hands and scrambled to pull the blanket up and over her body a bit more, "Didn't think I was this tired." Brady watched her for a moment, a small laugh from his lips as he sipped his drink.

"You looked cold, and with this rain," he looked at the ceiling, "nothing a bit of a blanket can't fix."

"Yeah," Annie said quietly, cuddling the blanket up over her body a bit more, "I appreciate it." She met Brady's gentle, doe eyes and he continued smiling at her, the soft glisten of the fire dancing in his eyes as he watched her right back.

Annie lazily stared at the golden hues, her eyes becoming entranced by the flicker of the flame in front of her, enjoying the hum of the heat of the orange and yellow licks of fire in front of her, the slight chatter behind her of pilots and bartenders, the patter of the rain above them; the overall general comfort that at the minute, no one was asking for her. All she needed to do was sit here, warm up and rest.

"Gotten any news back home from your family?" Brady asked her quietly, looking towards her with an almost innocent gaze, "Some of the guys have started getting mail again, and I figured…." Annie slowly slid her eyes towards him and nodded.

"Yeah." she said, "A letter. From my father." Something in Brady's face changed.

"Everything okay?" he asked her, a slight edge to his voice that wasn't there before.

"Mom's not doing well," Annie said, but quickly recovered herself, "hasn't been for a while so." Brady slowly leaned forward in his seat, catching her gaze and a bit of guilt seeped into her stomach, just seeing that look on his face. Worry. Concern. She didn't want someone to have to worry and bother themselves over her for something she herself couldn't even control. Especially people who were already stressed beyond compare.

"Annie…."

"It's okay, really," Annie said with a nod, her eyes traveling back to the fire, "she's actually the one that didn't want me even coming here. Said she needed hands back at the farm, she couldn't do much anymore….I told her no. That I wanted to do this. And now….." Annie stared at the fire and let out a shaky sigh and nodded, before glancing back over at Brady and finding him, worry lines drawn across his face, eyes saddened, expression deep in thought.

"It's complicated." Annie said, a small laugh escaping her lips, but she felt her body constrain at the end of her attempt of covering laughter, "Sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize," Brady said, watching her gaze again as she held his, "I'm sorry, Annie." Annie watched him, their gazes a whole other level of complexity Annie had no time to dig into at this very moment, and she smiled.

"Thanks, John." she said quietly and he nodded. Then, before he could look away, she looked down at the fire and let out a small breath. She wasn't looking at him, but she could tell he wanted to say something; the air wasn't cleared, there was clearly something still on the edge of his tongue and the longer they sat in that tense silence, the more she wanted to hear him say it. Whatever it happened to be.

Annie thought back to those times - her mother drinking, father stressed out of his mind, all those kids, Roy barely afloat, Annie feeling like a single mother at 15 when she shouldn't have even been in that position in the first place. She had just done as she was told, to survive, to breathe a bit. She thought it had been the right thing and it had, but the guilt never left her. Leaving her family like that, thinking it was okay. She knew that she was an adult and had every right to do what she did, to live a bit more, fight against this war, but sometimes it ate her alive. Knowing her mother was dying and she was here. Annie hadn't realized her eyes had begun to fill with tears until one was itching down her cheek.

"Hey, Annie, you okay?" Brady asked quietly, leaning forward, his drink forgotten about along with the world. Annie looked to him and nodded, reaching up to wipe at her eyes and get rid of the tears as fast as she could - it was embarrassing, alright? To be getting so upset over this, in front of Brady, in their current situation. There were a lot more worse-off situations than hers.

"I'm okay," Annie said, "all good." Brady slowly stood and kneeled beside her chair and watched her face - God, he was pretty tall wasn't he. Kneeling beside her, he leaned a hand on the chair back that snaked an arm around the one side of her form - and he watched her face, trying to dissect the problem and fix it, seemingly as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry about your mom, Annie," he whispered, her eyes looking to his like some sort of forbidden safe haven - because it'd never leave her - even when her mother did eventually die, and this war was over. It would never go away. But she could try and bury it.

"Thanks, John," she whispered, "I didn't mean to turn into a sap. Especially here, goddamn." Annie briefly, angrily, reached up and wiped at some tears.

"It's stupid anyway."

"No it's not," Brady breathed out quietly, catching her eyes again, and offering a small smile that made her heart warm, "things like that, especially dealing with family. It's not stupid, I can promise you. Despite whatever's going on." Annie held his gaze.

"It's not stupid to me." he said softer this time, "Especially when it's you." Annie stared at him, the tears in her eyes making his face a slightly blurred Picasso painting and she managed a watery smile his way.

"I just hate the feeling, ya know?" Annie said quietly, "Feeling guilty, but knowing you can't do anything. Like, I know I can't do a thing, I did what I could, we turned out our separate ways, but I still feel like that scared little girl. To her. To me."

"Hey," Brady said quietly, reaching up to wipe at the tear that squeaked out from her eye, before resting a hand on her arm through the blanket, "don't worry yourself thin at the minute. You said it yourself. You can only do what you can right now. Especially half-way across the world. You just did a helluva bombing run, okay? You're doing your best, Annie. It's admirable." And when Brady uttered little things like that to her, she believed them like a prayer verse in the family Bible in her father's bedside. She believed it like it were something she'd whisper to herself every night. She believed it because it had fallen from Brady's lips.

"Here," Brady said, getting to his feet and standing in front of her - floppy hair in his eyes, A-2 jacket having seen better days, tie that she felt the urge to fix - and holding out a hand. Annie stared at him, raising a brow his way, and chuckling a slightly wet laugh from the tears that were slowly disappearing.

"What are you doing?" she managed out quietly, with a laugh.

"Just trust me." he said with a lopsided smirk, that seemed to light up his eyes in a way that made her insides twist. Annie laughed quietly, but shifted off the blanket, which had been delightfully warm now that it was removed from her now cold form and took his hand - warm, much larger than her own it practically encased it, and inviting. Comforting. A touch that lingered.

He took her other hand and she stared at him. There hadn't been really any times previous they'd been like this. They'd danced together once - one of those big-band upbeat songs that had her off her feet and twirling in his arms. But she'd done that with Bucky, who'd nearly twirled her into a table. This felt different though. The way his hands held her own, the way he was watching her, the way this felt.

"What's going on?" she whispered sneakily with a chuckle. Brady, smirking again that brooding and rather charming grin, pulled her closer to him and placed a hand on her hip, his thumb brushing against the fabric of her own jacket and the fleece underneath, his other hand holding her own against his shoulder like something holy. And he watched her, just inches above her and smiled.

"Ahhh." Annie whispered quietly, with a small laugh, "I'll admit, I have two left feet when it comes to this." Brady watched her, his eyes so big and whole and staring only at her; it made her want to shrink into him for some reason.

"I saw you dancing with Bucky that one time," he whispered, his voice gentle on her ears, "you have anything but." Her cheeks flamed a bit at the thought - he'd seen that? Annie laughed lightly, catching herself as she looked to his bright eyes again. He leaned his head forward to her ear.

"I didn't realize you had freckles," he whispered, before his small chuckle seemed to fill in her ears, "they're cute." Annie's face must've been on fire as a laugh left her lips and she curled her head to the side in between his neck and collarbone - he smelled sweet, almost like honey, and in some weird way, it reminded her of home.

"You're such a tease, John Brady," she whispered against his neck, his grip tightening on her hip as he pulled her closer to his form, "but thank you." He chuckled.

For a moment, they both grew quiet, these sweet nothings between them lingering and as tender as a light touch, their bodies swaying back and forth like a wave lapping gently on the shoreline. Annie closed her eyes, inviting the touch from him all over her body - her face pressed on his neckline, his hand on her hip and lingering on her hand, holding it softly, his face somewhere in her hair and near her ear, her body pressed against his chest, holding on like he were an anchor of some sort. A grounding one at that.

"No one's ever told me that." Annie whispered against his neck, her breath warm.

"What?" Brady whispered back into her ear - his voice seemingly always doing something to her no matter what.

"About my freckles." Annie said softly, no one's ever been this close. She heard Brady's little laugh in her ear and smiled.

"Honored to be the first." Brady said, though his words sort of hung out in the air like a tree branch in fall. Maybe you'll be the last, Annie thought, but jumping to thoughts like that right now was something she buried deep inside her.

"I think a part of me will always be attached to the idea of what my life was when I was younger, when Mom was better," Annie whispered, and Brady seemed to tense under her fingertips, "but, I won't lie, right now all I can think about is…." she trailed off in a manner she hadn't intended and could feel him waiting for her to finish her answer. Instead, she pulled back slightly and looked up at him and managed a small smile. He watched her, eyes glowing, on her.

"Right now all you can think about is…." Brady started quietly, expectantly waiting for an answer. Annie felt herself go red again, a deeper crimson than before and found that when he was suddenly very intently watching her like this, all she could do was smile.

"Annie." Quickly turning her head from Brady, her walls suddenly going back up unexpectedly, she found Francis coming towards them and let her walls crumble again as the woman approach with a small smile on her face.

"Listen, I hate to break this up, but Harding's been asking for you. Needs an opinion on….something or other, says there's some new crews joining us. Primeblue? I don't know, something like that - lead pilot did some runs in Africa, name's Matilda Kerkering. Got a crew, too. Like a mini-you." Francis rambled on, and then caught Annie's expression and cleared her throat, "Alright, listen, just….meet me outside. I got an umbrella and everything, real snazzy." And with that Francis was turning away and Annie was frozen somewhat in her place. Slowly, she turned back to look at Brady and found him watching her with that look on his face, all warm and gentle and intently focusing on her, his eyes all soft.

"A mini-you." Brady said, his hand squeezing at her hip a bit, before whispering in her ear, "You look incredibly excited." Annie mock-scoffed and gave him a small smack on the shoulder with a grin and shook her head.

"Just because you can read my facial expressions, doesn't mean you have to verbally express that meaning," she whispered back with a chuckle, "it might get me in trouble one day." Brady smirked at her and raised a brow and she shoved at his shoulder again with a buckle of laughter, before turning slightly and grabbing the blanket and pulling it into her arms. His hand ever-presently still lingered on her hip and she found herself enjoying that bit of a presence there. Just a touch that told her he was there.

"Thanks for taking my mind off things a bit," Annie said to him, smiling brightly up towards him, "it just gets to me sometimes, all of that. What's going on back home, can't control things, all of that. So, just, thank you, truly." Brady smiled at her and nodded.

"Everyone needs a little cheering up sometimes," Brady said, "but hey, look, I'll see you later." She smiled at him.

"Go on, Lieutenant, they're in need of your wisdom and guidance." Annie let out a bark of laughter, shoving his shoulder teasingly again before stepping away, her hip slightly cold, the lack of Brady's hand suddenly engrained in her brain, her thoughts, her feelings.

"Hey, Annie," Brady called, and she turned to look over her shoulder and found him stood, hands in his pockets, smirk on his face, "right now all you can think about is….?" Annie stared at him, suddenly staring him down from a few feet away now, no longer under his rather intense gaze that she gravitated towards.

You.

You, you, you, her head seemed to scream. Annie smiled at him and then offered him a mock salute before immediately turning away and speeding right out of the officers' club, a small smile on her lips as she stepped outside, immediately crash-landing into Francis, who caught her arm and chuckled.

"You and Brady looked incredibly cozy." Francis said with a chuckle and Annie rolled her eyes.

"Shut up."

“Just saying, looked like the guy was about to ya know, make it official or something."

"He was just being nice, Francis," Annie said, "nothing to worry about."

"You and I clearly define 'nice' as completely different things."

"It was nothing." Annie admonished again, crossing her arms and glancing up towards the woman, "Brady's just…..he's just being nice." Francis smirked and sent her a look as she held the umbrella up above their heads.

"Tell that to the grip he had on your hip." Francis said and then looked away and stepped forward, "Come on! Harding's got a million different documents that need sorting and a second brain." Annie followed under the umbrella, bright red in the face, Francis smirking like a loon. Maybe anchors didn't only anchor other things, but one another in some sort of way a war would force something to.

[outsideratheart]

I’ll protect you (Ana-Maria Crnogorcevic x reader)

Based off this request.

Have you ever met someone who you instantly have a connection with? Where it's like you knew each other in a past life and your first meeting is actual a reunion? That is the way you would describe the day you met Ana.

Now almost three years later the two are you are inseparable although neither one of you have confessed that you want your relationship to be more than platonic.

One of the things you loved about Ana was her commitment to the team and the Catalonian people. It came as a shock when she picked up Spanish as quickly as she did but it could be argued that it wasn't the student that was good, it was you the teacher.

Her passion carried over when Barcelona played Real Madrid, the legendary El Classico.

"Someone's excited" you spot Ana in her locker, her knee bouncing up and down.

"And you're not? I know you love this match just as much as me, if not more" Ana helps you tape your wrists, it was your first of many pre match rituals.

"I know that with Jenni gone and Alexia on the sidelines I am going to be their number one target"

In every El Classico so far, Real Madrid were predictable. They made it known very early on in the game who they wanted to take out. You enjoyed it and you loved any chance to tease your Madrid counterparts although they didn't find it fun getting beat time and time again.

"I'll protect you" Ana is deadly serious when she makes her promise to you.

"I can look out for myself. Focus on getting the ball in the back of the net"

History is sure to repeat itself as Barcelona find themselves 2-0 up just before half time. Madrid start to get desperate but it was to be expected and you warned the girls of this. Esther was no longer hiding her intention to hurt you and after the third of fourth tackle she got a yellow card. At this point you thought she would back off in fear of getting a second and then a red only this doesn't happen.

The half time whistle blows and instead of going into the locker room, you go straight for the woman that has been on your back the entire game.

"Keep going Esther. You know I have my limits and you are dangerously close" you body check her before walking away.

"I barely touched you. You just don't know how to play football without your friends. The whole world knows that you're struggling to play without Alexia and it is only a matter of time before they see that you're not worth the credit you get" Esther spits.

"Shut up or the next thing to come out of your mouth with be your teeth" Ana's presence startles you.

Esther continues rambling as she walks through the tunnel, her voice becoming quieter with every step she takes.

"She's right" you admit as you sink into your locker.

"No, she isn't and you'll prove her wrong when you go back out there and show the world just how good Y/N Y/L/N is"

Ana always has faith in you even when you didn't. Over the past few months you have doubted yourself more than ever but she was always there to remind you who you are.

In the second half you played with a new purpose, to show Esther who Spain's best forward was. With your confidence level at an all time high it led to Esther making more tackles than she did in the first half and every one she made got worse and worse.

Whilst you remain level headed you knew Ana was get close to blowing up. She liked to protect you whether that was in a nightclub when a stranger refused to take no for answer or like today when you're get getting hurt and nothing is being done about it.

The final nails on the Real Madrid coffin come in the form of two more goals, both coming from you. After the second one you saw the opportunity to taunt Esther and get in her head so after you finished celebrating with your team you look directly at her and do her signature celebration. You knew that it would anger her more but you no longer cared. There was only 7 minutes left on the clock, you could handle it.

Barcelona receive a corner which doesn't go to plan. Instead of football it becomes a game of ping pong, the ball going from head to head. You see it coming your way and you jump to head in the direction of the goal but at the last minute you see Esther coming towards with her foot high. Already in the air, you close your eyes and wait for her foot to hit your head only it doesn't, instead you feel her studs connect with your sternum.

The breath is knocked out of you, a mixture of the impact and the force in which you hit the floor.

"Y/N" Aitana tries to get your attention but your eyes remain shut as you try to focus on your breathing.

Something else that sticks out is the headache that comes thick and fast, you know you must have hit it on the floor when you fell. Your surroundings are a blur but you recognise the sound of the medics asking you question.

"I-can't-breathe" you say through laboured breaths.

"Try to stay still" one of them tells you.

"Ana" you use all your energy to call out for the one woman you want by your side.

"I'm here Y/N. Everything's going to be ok" Ana takes a hold of your hand. When she sees you close you eyes she squeezes you hand tightly so that you know she is there even if you can't see her.

Ana has never felt more helpless in her life. The medics cut open your shirt so they can asses the damage, it's something she wasn't ready to see. There in the middle of your chest was a boot print, some marking had even opened up and blood was trickling down your chest. You wince when you feel someone brush over the point of impact.

You swat the hand away immediately.

"Y/N let them do there job, please" you turn your attention to Ana. Her face is pale and you see a single tear roll down her cheek.

The medics lift you onto the stretcher, Ana remaining by your side the entire time. That is until she hears Esther speak ill of you, yet again, only this time she does something about it.

"At least now she gets to watch in the stands with dear La Reina" Esther jokes with her teammates only no one is laughing. Their faces drop when they see the Swiss international approaching them at speed.

"You're so insecure of your own abilities that you purposely try to hurt Y/N. You are a discrace and don't deserve to play football" Ana shoves Esther, sending her to the floor but she is soon back to her feet.

"Mierda!" Patri says as she runs after her team mate, others follow in suit.

Patri and Irene try their hardest to pull Ana away but nothing they do works.

"Come on" Patri begs.

"Don't let her get to you" Irene adds.

They both grab hold of her but she shrugs them off, clearly she wasn't done with the Madrid forward.

"You better hope she is ok or the next time we meet i'll--" Ana threatens only to be cut off.

"You'll do what?" Esther pushes Ana again.

This time Ana shoves her a lot harder than the first time and Esther hits the floor hard.

"You don't want to find out"

"Ana, walk away" Marta, who has been called over for extra help says "They are taking her to the hospital. Jona has got Mariona ready to sub in for you but if don't leave now you won't be able to go with Y/N"

This seems to work because Ana runs off the pitch without saying another word. She ignores the ref but thanks her coach when she gets to the side lines.

Later than night you are discharged from the hospital. After getting several scans you are told that you have a minor concussion due to the fall and a broken sternum thanks to Esther.

Ana accompanies you back to your apartment and insists on staying the night despite you telling her numerous times that you are fine. After all the doctors gave you some strong painkillers which reduced the pain significantly although you were warned that you would be very sore in the morning.

She helps you get changed, turning around when you are indecent even though she has seen you topless number of times.

Once in bed Ana helps you get comfy before leaving.

"I thought you said you were staying the night" even though you are adamant you don't need help you were still looking forward to the sleepover with your best friend.

"I'll be in the living room. You need to get some rest" Ana leans against the door frame.

When she sees you pouting she shakes her head ever so slightly. You pull back the corner of the duvet on the empty side of the bed and pat it a couple of times.

"Ana-Maria Crnogorcevic please come to bed"

Ana loved the way you said her name. The way you pronounced every syllable and how your spanish accent meant you rolled the r's. It made saying no to you incredibly difficult and you were fully aware of this, it's why you did it.

The two of you gets settled and Ana picks out a movie, one that she is sure you've never seen before. You may be focused on the TV but whenever you look over to your best friend you find her staring at your chest.

"Stop looking at my boobs"

"I -- I wasn't looking at them -- I mean I was but I wasn't -- I was looking at--" Ana face rivals the colour of a beetroot at your accusation.

"Looking at this" you pull the front of your tank top down revealing all of the marks left by Esther's boot.

"I told you I would protect you" Ana refuses to look you in your eyes as she thinks about how she failed you.

"There's nothing you could have done and from what i've heard you defended my honour afterwards" you could tell that Ana felt bad about you getting hurt and whilst you don't mind being the damsel in distress if she is the one saving you, you knew that this was just one of those times where nothing or no one could stop Esther from her attack.

"It's my fault"

"Really Ana?" You were staring to get annoyed. Ana was making is obvious that she wanted to punish herself but you really didn't want to spend the night talking about what happened.

"Don't look at me like that" Ana senses your annoyance "I provoked her at half time and since then her tackles got worse. She knew that by going after you she would be hurting me"

"This isn't about you"

"No it's not. It's abut you Y/N. Do you know how scared I was? I told you I would protect you and I failed you. I couldn't protect the woman I" Ana stops herself before she says something she cannot take back.

Your eyes widen when you realise what she was about to say. Is this really what it took for you both to admit your feelings. Was you getting put in the hospital your version of an airport confessions from the movies.

"Finish your sentence" you tell her. The expression on your face is serious. No part of you wants her to think you are making fun of her.

"I can't"

"Please"

Then it hits her. You know what you was about to say and you want her to say it anyway.

Ana tucks a stray hair behind your ear, her palm rests on your cheek and you melt into her touch. She looks you in the eye then at your lips, you didn't pull away from her touch yet she was still hesitating.

"Fuck it" you lean forward, ignoring the pain that rises to your chest at the sudden move and kiss your best friend.

It is Ana who deepens this kiss but you have to push her away.

"Ow, ow, ow" you lay back down as you try to get your breathe.

"Sorry. That's my fault, I shouldn't have -"" Ana begins to apologise only for you to cut her off.

"I swear to god Ana if you blame yourself once more I am kicking you out"

Ana hold her hands up in surrender. In this moment she would do anything to stay with you.

"Come here" Ana extends her arms so you can lay against her side" Carefully" you warns when she hears you wince.

The two of you go back to watching the film only for Ana to pause it after 20 minutes.

"The woman I love. I love you Y/N" Ana finishes her sentence.

You turn slightly so that you can face her.

"I love you Ana-Maria" you softly kiss her again. You want her and in this moment you ignore the pain you are feeling.

Ana cups your face and gently pulls away. You pout at the lack of connection but this time is doesn't work.

"Don't look at me like that. I want this just as much as you do but I won't have you hurting yourself more" Your heart warms at how Ana was back to protecting you, only this time it was from yourself.

It took 2 weeks for your concussion to pass and 6 weeks for your broken sternum to heal. The day you got the green light Ana took you out on your first official date and that night the longing you two of you experienced over the years was let go.

[justmeinatree]

01 - Made Of Something New : Intro

Summary : you meet niall in your hotel bar. and there’s an intense connection.

Word Count : 2.4k

A/N : hey all ! this is the intro chapter to a 10 part fic. this story has been tucked away in my notes for over a year, it’s def time to share ! there are no trigger warnings in this part, but before getting too invested, there are general fic trigger warnings over here. ✌️

GIF : @horansqueen

May 9th - Vancouver, Canada

you look at the clock in your hotel room for the 6th time in the last half hour. you were bored. 

it was always a fairly good time when your work sent you off to different places. you got to explore some of the biggest cities around the world, in exchange for a few meetings here and there. it was worth it really, especially since you loved travelling. with your job, you were typically sent off somewhere different once or twice a month.

but you were about to go absolutely insane if you had to look at those 4 god awful pink walls, green carpet and dark brown curtains for much longer. it was lonely at times, travelling for work, as you had some colleagues that joined, but you weren’t always all that close to them. 

it was your last night in vancouver, not much to do, except stare at a clock and some walls apparently. vancouver was a regular stop for your work, coming to the city a few times a year. you had done the touristy things, even found a few underground gems, none of which seemed to fit the mood you were in tonight. as you weighed out your options, you decided to put some clothes on and make your way down to the hotel bar. if anything, you could have some quality time to yourself, watching the people around you. it always intrigued you to look at others go about their lives, wondering what their story was. 

you slipped on a simple grey tshirt dress that came down mid thigh, hugged your skin, showed off a bit of cleavage and came up to some thin straps over your shoulders. you made your way down, walked up to the lady at the bar, ordering your usual gin and tonic and going to find an empty table.

you examined the bar carefully. it was nice, a little cozy pub feel with an older man playing piano in the back corner. the walls were a deep purple, the carpet was bright red, all furniture was a brown wood. it felt like the vibe shouldn’t work but it did and you found yourself relaxing into your chair, watching people go about around you. you loved watching people be. just seeing how everyone was sort of the same but so so different. it was interesting to you. 

as your eyes scanned the room, they fell on a table of guys, around your age, being a little louder than everyone else in the room. upon seeing the amount of empties on their table, you weren’t surprised. they were tucked away in the far corner of the bar, a rambunctious bunch, but not causing any issues. as they all started laughing loudly, one of them stood out from the rest. a big boisterous laugh that despite yourself, couldn’t keep the smile from curling your lips up at the corners.

you didn’t know what the joke was, but you wanted whoever said it to say it again and again, in hopes of hearing that beautiful laugh over and over. someone, somewhere heard your silent wish as the man the laugh belonged to, stood up, laughing again, as he made his way to the bar to get more drinks for the table.

and that’s when you recognized him. you knew who he was, knew his music. didn’t know much about him but you always had quite the crush on him. could he be more beautiful in person ? you weren’t sure, but you were absolutely going to find out. 

you wait for him to go back to his table, drinks lining a tray in his hand, before heading to the bar yourself. you order 2 tequila shots, quickly downing those as you know you’ll need the courage. you get another gin and tonic to sip on as you contemplate how to go about this. you definitely didn’t want to waltz up to a table full of drunk guys, that’s for fucking sure.

you decide to flag down the lady at the bar again, pointing towards his table. “the irish one,” you hum. “his next order, can you put that on my tab ?” you smile politely. 

she smiles back, nodding “just a heads up, they’ve been spending quite a bit at that table.”

“yeah, i figured. it’s fine. no worries !” you smile back, shaking your head to yourself in disbelief that you’re actually going about this, as you take your drink and head back to your table.

the tv on the wall catches your attention for a little while, a natural disaster story keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

you never saw him approaching, feeling a presence by your side, making you turn your attention away from the tv. he has a guiness in one hand, his other hand resting against the back of the chair next to you, fingers tapping on the wood. “s’this seat taken ?” he hums.

your eyes scan up from his fingers, over his arm and neck, to his face as he speaks, and yes, yes he is more beautiful up close. 

“no, it’s not. make yourself comfortable,” you offer him a warm smile. “i’m y/n”.

“niall” he smiles, extending his hand for you to shake once he’s seated. “thanks for the drink, you really didn’t have to do that.” he chuckles lightly, “although i can’t say i’m complaining”.

you giggle softly, shrugging, “figured there was no better way to get a good looking irish man’s attention than paying for his alcohol.”

niall laughs loudly, making you laugh as well. “you’ve got a point there, love,” he chuckles, his hand giving yours a little squeeze. you were absolutely fucked already and you knew it. his skin was so warm, his hand engulfing yours as it squeezed.

“you don’t have to keep me company,” you smile sheepishly, secretly hoping for him to stay. “seemed to be having a good time with your friends over there. wouldn’t want you to miss out on any of the laughs.”

“i see them all the time,” niall shakes his head. “would rather be looking at your pretty face anyway.”

you blush and giggle at his comment, biting your lip, “smooth one aren’t ya ?”

niall laughs again, his hand running through his hair, a light blush on his cheeks, “i try. but it usually doesn’t work this well.”

“maybe the irish charm is extra strong tonight,” you smile at him, teasingly, before shaking your head. “you’re trouble aren’t you ?”

“what makes you say that ?” niall chuckles, hand on his chest. “i’m an absolute sweet heart. wouldn’t hurt a fly. no trouble at all,” he adds as innocently as he can muster up.

“i don’t believe that for a second,” you giggle at him. “i think trouble has a way of following you around.”

niall shrugs, biting his lip, knowing he’s gotten himself in loads of trouble time and time again, but for some reason not wanting to admit to it. not to you anyway. “is a bit of trouble a bad thing ?” he hums.

“never said it was,” you smirk cheekily at him.

“i think you’re the one that’s trouble,” he hums. he’s never met someone he’s been so comfortable with, so quickly, in a long time. since being thrown into celebrity status over a decade ago, he’s had his guard up with everyone he meets. never know who’s cozying up to him for money, or fame, or even just some juicy gossip. but for some reason, all of that fades with you. he’s scared to no end, but he can’t seem to stop himself from chatting you up. loving the comfort you exude, he stays with you, relaxing into the welcomed feeling he can’t remember sensing in a long time. especially with a stranger at a hotel bar.

you keep up the small talk, finding out that he’s staying at the hotel for the one night, making his way quickly through vancouver for some press for the new album. you explain to him that it’s your last night in town, happy to be heading home tomorrow, but also excited for your next work trip, it was to be your first time in the uk. 

“first time in the uk ?,” niall asks excitedly, making you nod. “there’s so many places you have to check out !” he adds animatedly listing off an impressive amount of restaurants, bars and fun touristy spots.

“think i’ll need to start writing these down,” you chuckle at his enthusiasm. “or get myself a real good tour guide,” you add suggestively. praying to whatever god may be listening that he’ll take the bait.

niall smiles, a small laugh escaping his lips, oh so wishing he could see you again. he knows he shouldn’t, and honestly quite probably can’t. “i know what you’re trying to do. want me to give my amazing tour guiding skills for free,” he smiles, hoping a little banter may help ease the seriousness. 

“we need refills,” niall hums, changing the subject, nodding his head towards your empty cup. “these ones are on me, what are you drinking, love ?” he asks as he stands up, his hand smoothing over your shoulder as he asks. he needed the distraction, needed some time away, some time to breathe and clear his head. god, what were you doing to him? and why was he feeling this way?

while he’s on his way to the bar, you notice him taking a deep breath, hand running through his hair. you wondered what was going through his mind as he ordered the drinks. 

niall was battling himself the entire time he was waiting on the drinks. he couldn’t believe the attraction he was feeling towards you. it was like a pull he couldn’t quite explain. his body, his mind, were just screaming at him. the thought of his life back home keeps popping into his mind. those thoughts quickly replaced by the tingling sensation in his fingertips. he had never felt skin as soft as yours, that he was sure about. he was truly fucked. and he was beginning to worry that you were right. that trouble definitely had a way of finding him. the lust he felt towards you was strong, but even more than that, the trust, the safety. there was something about you, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he didn’t want to leave your side. you calmed him with a simple conversation, like no one else ever could.

the few moments apart from him, helped you collect your thoughts as well. he was gorgeous, and it was obvious that hollywood had shaped him. he stole the attention in the room. whether you knew who he was or not, you knew he was somebody. he exuded confidence in a way you’ve never seen before. you felt your tummy flip as you watched him walk back. you were absolutely fucked, and you knew it. maybe having drinks with your celebrity crush wasn’t the best idea after all.

you notice that he’s got his fingers wrapped around his guiness, your gin and tonic, and two shot glasses. as he puts the drinks down on the table and his fingers unwrap themselves from the glassware, you notice how long his fingers are. you couldn’t help but think of what they could do to you. heat pooling between your thighs as you notice the little droplets of water on his fingertips from the condensation on the glass.

without really realizing, your hand reaches out for his, your fingertips lightly dancing over his palm and the length of his fingers. niall’s breath catches in his throat as he watches you, a spark of electricity running through his hand.

you quickly shake your thoughts out of your head, removing your hand from his, really taking notice in the shot glasses on the table, as well as your drinks, for the first time. you look up at him with a questioning glance, “shots ?”

“i figured a shot would be fun,” he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, sitting back down, truthfully just needing something a little stronger. “the lady at the bar said you seemed to like tequila.”

you giggle, nodding, “may have had a couple shots before having her put your drinks on my tab,” you admit shyly, your cheeks turning a light pink at your confession.

niall looks at you, one eyebrow raised, “why’s that ?”

you blush a bit under his stare, “needed a little liquid courage before buying drinks for someone as gorgeous as you.”

he laughs loudly, hiding his face in his face in his hand. and you’re not having it for one second. you wrap your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. niall’s blushing hard, making you smile sweetly at him. your voice barely louder than a whisper as your eyes scan over his face, “you really are beautiful.”

“stop,” niall murmurs, his breath hitching, a pained look on his face. “you’re absolutely killing me.”

your hand reaches out for his neck, fingertips playing with the soft whispy hairs, absolutely dying to have his lips pressed against yours. you need to know how he tastes, how his mouth feels against yours. but his hand is incredibly quick to lightly grip your wrist as he pulls your hand away from his body, a heavy look taking over his features. he cant risk getting caught with you. can’t risk what kind of story he’d be waking up to. all the texts blowing up his phone.

“did i do something wrong ?” you ask him, giving his knee a squeeze as he shakes his head, no.

“fuck, i want you so bad,” he mumbles, his head tipped back, eyes closed, battling with himself.

as he looks back at you, eyes locking with yours, the words start spilling out of his mouth, “i don’t think i’ve ever wanted anyone this badly in my entire life, if i’m being totally honest. my heart is beating out of my chest in the best and worst way possible all at once. why am i even telling you that ?” he mumbles the last part under his breath. “fuck, fuck, i really should be going back to the lads, i think. i - you should know that, i have a girlfriend back home.”

Part 2

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[irlcats-bracket]

Bracket 5 Semifinals 2

Blackie vs Maccabee

check their descriptions and catpaganda (new for blackie)

BLACKIE

This is Blackie, submitter's little one-eyed wonder. He lost his eye to glaucoma quite a few years ago, but he's doing a lot better now, and still likes to play with his sister, Artemis. His name is Blackie because that's what the shelter named him and submitter's family couldn't agree on a new name for him so it stuck, but submitter themselves call him 'Big Boi' because of just how massive he is. He was once very timid, but with time and love and patience he is now a certified lap cat who will come right up to strangers to demand pets. He has a wonderful squeaky meow and when he purrs it sounds like two cats purring at once. He likes to have people watch him eat and he will guide submitter's mom over to the couch and make her lay down just so he can sleep in her lap. Also, when he lays on his back, he covers his belly with his tail. Pictured is him in his signature polite boi sitting pose

MACCABEE

- weird old man

- known to bite people's elbows when prompted

- frequently sleeps with one (1) limb stretched in a random direction

- the reason submitter can't have pineapples in the house

- knows the word "treat," meaning it cannot be said out loud around him

- they got him for chanukah (hence the name). diversity win! this cat is jewish!

- they paid $150 to buy him a half-page ad in submitter's high school yearbook because he's worth it <3

CATPAGANDA

MACCABEE

has a post made by his human as a separate propaganda piece. it has bribery. the offer as far as i know still stands

also has agitational posters!!

BLACKIE

So glad to see Blackie still in the competition! His response so far has been "aow."

Truth be told, I'm running out of propaganda. If he make it to the next round, I'm gonna try my darnedest to capture his meows on video, which I haven't been able to do before because he sees me coming with the camera and starts purring XD

For now, more assorted Blackie facts!

Very rarely, when he gets the zoomies, he'll laugh. Like "huhuhuheueheHUEHEUE" kinda laugh.

I like to let him sniff human food/whatever I'm holding just to make sure he feels included (still doesn't like anything but pizza crumbs). But he has gagged on pickled ginger, banana, and CBD rub. He always gets really embarrassed when he gags tho

Ever since I got a job, he has been following me to bed and jumping on my chest to get the pets that he now lacks during the day.

If he sees you getting out the cat brush, he''ll lead you over to where he wants to be brushed.

On that note, when I had hurt my leg one time, Blackie saw that I wasn't leaning down to pet him and instead lead me over to the couch to have me sit down to pet him. He kept that up for a couple months once he saw how relieved it made me.

More Blackie propoganda! This time I bring you big boi in motion

link

Assorted Blackie facts:

A brave man when it comes to thunderstorms. But the vacuum? His mortal enemy.

The friendliest cat at the shelter. But the staff forced me to pick him up and hold him to get a picture and he got terrified and peed on me.

We think, based on how he acts, that he may have grown up in a home with dogs. But the mark on his ear is one done by our local neuter and release program, so we don't know if he was a stray, an outside cat, etc. But he's one of the friendliest cats I've ever met.

Will go up to his sister and put his head down to get it licked. But as soon as she goes to lick him and flattens his ears and raises a paw like he's gonna hit her. Sometimes they fight and sometimes they just walk away. We don't think he's trying to trick her because he acts genuinely confused throughout this process.

Sometimes he uses his back paw to scratch the back of his front leg when he's sitting down and it's so cute <3

These are old photos from when I used to hold a camera down and snap a photo when they leaned in to sniff the lens.

Blackie is our older cat and is such a gentleman. He is eager to love, he does the quickest slow blinks I've ever seen from a cat. He has a two-layered purr, it literally sounds like a cat purring as popcorn is being made in the background. He lost his eye to glaucoma when he was younger but he runs around and plays and teases his sister Artemis like a kitten. And his eyebrow whiskers grew down over his missing eye! He's not a big fan of people food but he has a fondness for pizza crumbs (NOT the crust. Just the crumbs off the plate when you're done eating the pizza). He walks like he's gingerly stepping through flowers and he's so gentle that the one time I overstimulated him and he wanted to bite me, he just shoved his closed mouth against my hand. He has a super long tongue and if you scratch the right spot between his shoulder blades he will lick the air. He's my precious boy who started out so scared but he's so brave and social and happy now just typing this out makes me wanna cry and go give him scritchies.

[little-drop-of-water]

Chronicle Of A Concert

Chapter 1: The Concert Anouncement

First: Käärijä anounces he'll give a concert in Spain in September.

Me, in Mexico and with no plans to go: OMG! That's so cool! People from Spain and other countries nearby can go see him. Awesome! Good for them!

Then: I find out Tarja Turunen and Marko Heitala are also gonna be there, the day right before Käärijä.

Me, still not planning to go: Oh wow! That's gonna be great! I've read reviews that say they sound like Nightwish...more than Nightwish! I bet they're gonna play The Phantom of the Opera...

After that: I find out the venue is a medieval castle.

Me, having a meltdown: Holy sh*t, is castle! It's a castle! An actual castle! OMG, imagine listening to Phantom of the Opera in a castle...OMFG! Imagine listening to Paidaton Riehuja in a castle!

And finally: I find out the events are not in a festival, but in fact are separate individual concerts, which means more time for each artists.

Me: *Flights from Cancun to Spain*

Chapter 2: Talking To Everyone

At work:

Me: Hey, so...how do vacations work here? I know they're technically not paid, but how many days can I take?

Accountant: Depends on the date. When are you planning to take them?

Me: September.

Accountant: Oh, sure! Take a month for all I care!

To my parents:

Me: What would you say if...instead of going to my cousin's wedding, and spend my birthday at my cousin's wedding...I went to Spain for a couple concerts instead?

Dad: Go.

To my boss:

Me: I'd like to take some days off in September, is that ok?

Boss: Which part of September? Because I leave on the 15th.

Me: Oh, it would be during the first half.

Boss: Sure, how many days are you taking?

Me: I was thinking 2 weeks...

Boss: Why so much? Where are you going?

Me: I wanna go to Spain.

Boss: Oh, great! Sure! Make it worth it! But, I need you to be here on the 12 tops, so why don't you leave on late August, like the 28, 29 and come back between the 10-12? And you could work part time for a week so you don't go without a pay for all that time?

Me: You know what? That's actually a great idea.

Chapter 3: Planning

So...where the hell is Fuengirola and how do I get there? Ok, it's in the south, close to Marbella...damm, it's gonna be expensive.

The closest airports are Granada and Seville. The tickets to those are expensive. I'm gonna have to fly to Madrid.

How do I get from Madrid to Fuengirola? Oh, the closest city is Málaga...and it's only like 3 hrs from Madrid by train or bus...ok ok ok ok...so it's doable...

And how do I get from Málaga to Fuengirola?...oh, public transport, I see...great!

Hey, it's not actually as expensive as I thought at first.

Hmm...the direct flights from Cancun to Madrid are 9hrs long...pfff...I've done 11.

Chapter 4: The Story So Far...

I have the plane tickets, the concert tickers and I booked a hostal in Madrid downtown. I still need to book a place in Fuengirola tho...

I’m currently learning the Madrid Subway system and planning what to do for the time I'll be there (I’m going to a couple museums, there's a park I want to visit and a flea market that is a few blocks away from where I’m staying).

I already have my outfit for the concert (just need the shoes) and I’m thinking about making bracelets to give away.

[fayes-fics]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I was tagged by @suspendingtime. Thanks my dear. 🫶🫶 Apologies I'm a little tipsy right now haha. 🤪

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

155. Ahem, hush you. I started writing 18 months ago. When I get a new hobby, I REALLY lean into it.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

481,485. Yup, almost half a million. Again, shhhh.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only Bridgerton. Look, I have my hyperfixations, ok?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

On AO3:

In His Lap (Short Fic) 181 

Temptation 177 

The Lesson 155 

Insatiable 149 

Are We Friends? 148

Tumblr notes:

Second Son 3,436

Sonnet #29 2,199

Rescue & Ruin 1,841

Awakening 1,827

Temptation 1,788

Wattpad readers:

Innocence, 30,600

Benedict Bridgerton Regency One Shots 23,000

Kinktober 2022 collection 16,300

Anthony Bridgerton Regency One Shots 10,400

Moments 5,800

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. Always. It's just wonderful to get feedback. I read and respond to every single comment. They mean the world to me, truly.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably No Good Advice. I ended up writing Moments multi-chapter as I (and a friend) couldn't bear the idea they didn't end up together lolol.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them, tbh. I can't write an unhappy ending. Maybe the mushiest is Second Son, Moments, or It Had To Be You.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Luckily not much yet. I did get one hate anon early on. It wasn't about a specific fic, though. It said they didn't know why I had a 'please don't steal my work' disclaimer (the standard one that most writers here use) cos I was delusional that my work was worth stealing. 🤷‍♀️

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, it's my trademark. It's rare when I don't write smut. 😬 I'm not sure what is meant by kind of smut. I've written it all, from vanilla romantic sex to kink threesomes with harnesses and double penetration lol. I haven't had a request yet that I've turned down due to sexual content.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not yet. The closest I've gotten is It Had To Be You, which is based on When Harry Met Sally.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, sadly, it has happened quite a few times now. I was so fed up with filing copyright takedown notices that I set up a Wattpad account to try to counter it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I've been offered but have turned it down. I have no way to check that any translation would get across the nuance I aim for. So I know that may be anglo-centric, but its how I feel for now.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, but I am always threatening to lolol.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Hmm, tough one. I do love Kanthony tbh.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Benedict as a virgin. I just urghhh.... it's been a WIP for 17 months now. I just dunno why I won't finish it; I just get the feeling I won't.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have no bloody idea. I'd prefer readers answer that tbh lol. My inclination is to say I don't have one, except perhaps a willingness to describe sex in ridiculous levels of detail? Is that a strength?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

World building. I will do anything to shortcut it. I'll find an economical way to describe a situation e.g. she's a widow; they're old friends. Got it? Good! Let's get down to business.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done a smidgeon of French as I studied it for ten years. But I doubt I'd do another language tbh.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Only Bridgerton so far.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Bloody hell, I have no fucking idea. It literally changes depending on my mood. But I don't really care for my own writing that much, all I see is flaws lol. I guess the universe I would most like to write more for one day is Mrs Bridgerton and its sequel. Does that count?

No Pressure Tagging: A couple of my talented writing moots were tagged along with me on this (the lovelies @colettebronte and @eleanor-bradstreet). So lets go: @thebabblingbrookenook @fiction-is-life @ferns-fics @silverhallow @mothdruid @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @urchintoast 😁🧡🧡

[ursa-tan]

Floating

—————

Kenny McKormic x reader

3,928 words

All characters are 18+

Kenny returns to South Park after disappearing for 2 years upon turning 16. When he comes back with enough money to outright buy a house, you are unsure how to approach and talk to the man you had been so close to for so long. Luckily, he doesn't take you inviting yourself in with his spare key to be rude and instead invites you to join him in his room.

TW: W33d usage

The cold air stings your face as you walk down the street, listening to the show crunching underfoot with every step you take. Tentative breaths curl in the air, almost dancing in front of your eyes as you continue down the street. As much as you adored a fresh snow fall, you hated the way the freezing feeling would nip at your nose.

Footprints behind you show the path you’ve taken from your house, untouched by anyone or anything. Turns out you were the only person stupid enough to leave your house today. Even though you lived in the mountains, no one else was willing to face the frigid outside apart from you. But it was going to be worth it when you finally arrived at your destination.

Your mind wanders as do your feet, thinking about what you’re going to say to him when you finally arrive at his house. He had been gone for so long, dipping out of South Park when He was 16 and only coming back a few months ago. Sure, you had been his friend for so long before that happened, but what would He think of you now? He had been gone for practically two years. And when He had finally reappeared, He had enough money to outright buy a house and refused to talk about what He had done to get the money.

Your eyes seem to come back into focus when you’re practically on his door step. Looking up at the two-story house that He shared with his parents, staring at his window and wondering what He was going to say to you.

The spare key He kept tucked under a small rock was easy to find, obviously you still knew him better than He thought you did. Slipping it into the door, your mind wandered once again, this time racing faster than it had in a long time. Although it felt wring to slip into his house like this unannounced, you were more than grateful at the warm air greeting your frozen features.

Standing by the door, you slipped of the black snow boots and shrugged the dusty green jacket off your shoulders. The warm air almost seemed to kiss life back into your half-dead skin. It was a sensation that almost stopped you in your tracks, just wanting to indulge in the feeling, like moving out strip it away. But you knew you had to move, you had come this far, you couldn’t stop now.

As you begin to make your way up the stairs you become overly aware of a pungent and funky sent. It washes over your body in waves until you’re completely consumed by it. You know exactly what that smell is, but you don’t want to think about it. Not right not at least.

Despite trying your best to ignore it, you really can’t. Especially not when you finally get to the top of the stairs and see what you can only assume to be his door cracked open. You knew that was where the smell was coming from and somehow, just somehow, it didn’t shock you.

You have to take a deep breath to steady your racing Heart, trying to convince yourself He wasn’t going to freak out at you for arriving and inviting yourself in uninvited, but nothing you did could quell the queasiness growing in your chest.

The door was smooth under your palm, no temperature difference between the varnish and your skin. It seemed to push back as you pushed it open, a fight between you and the carpet to get the door to move out of your way. But it was all worth it when you were met with a vision of him half sprawled out on his bed. His hair was a partially ruffled mess of smooth blond locks sticking out every which way, seeming to shine slightly in the delicate light the small desk lamp on his bedside table. He was clad in nothing but grey sweats, blue and yellow socks and small black band shirt that rose up to expose the band of his boxers. His Head and upper back were partially propped up against the wall his bed was pushed up against.

Everything in your body seemed to still in the moment that his eyes met yours. Dopy and half closed, red rimmed with and almost euphoric sparkle.

“Hey Kenny…” You trail off, still wishing you had just turn tail and run before you even reached his front door.

Your eyes dropped to his signature orange parka crumpled in a Heap on the floor when He didn’t say anything. Any time you managed to push yourself to look at him, his eyes were wide in shock and confusion, but nothing said anger about him.

“(Y/n)?...” He sat up straight, both hands pressing into his rumpled sheets as He leaned forwards to get at better look at you. “I… I wasn’t expecting you,” his voice was uncertain as He spoke, almost like He was just as nervous as you.

“I know, I probably should’ve said something instead of just… coming round and letting myself in,” You could feel the voice crack that hit you half way through speaking and you cringed, having to resist the urge to recoil and practically fold into yourself.

“No, no, it’s ok.” Kenny swallowed hard, looking quickly between you and the blunt still propped up neatly in his right hand. “Come… Come and sit with me? And close the door too, please.” HE sounded so nervous as He spoke, trying not to say something wrong.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him running his left hand through his hair, trying to sort it out as you pushed the door over till you Head it click shut.

“Want me to lock it too?”

“Yeah.”

Once you turned around, Kenny had pulled his shirt back down and was looking at you, observing you. It didn’t take long for you to take a deep breath of the Heavily weed scented air and finally start moving to sit on the edge of his bed.

If this were anyone else, any other house you had just walked into uninvited, any other of your friends, you would’ve sat nervously. Perched nervously on the edge of the bed like you were scared of ruining their sheets or upsetting them by getting to comfortable in their space. But this was Kenny, so you had to stop yourself from falling back onto the bed and holding your hand up for him to pass you the blunt.

“Why do you look so nervous?” It felt like He was reading your mind.

“Cuz I just kinda… turned up without saying anything to you? You could’ve been doing anything.”

“I’m glad you showed up.” There was a moment of silence after He said that, especially as your eyes met and, just for a second in the low light of the room, you thought you could see dark bubbling deep in his eyes. “I feel like we haven’t talked enough since I came back to South Park.”

You felt the same way. You had only seen Kenny a few times in the 5 months He had been back, and it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy your craving to be around the blond.

“Yeah, me either…”

The conversation felt so dry, nothing like it should. Nothing like you wanted it to.

“Fuck it, Wanna get high with me?” There was the Kenny you knew, the Kenny you had sobbed saying goodbye to at 16, the same one who had hugged you so hard you though your ribcage might burst and told you not to tell anyone He was going soft.

“Thought you’d never ask,” your grin carried in your voice as you spoke, holding a hand up and waiting for him to place the bling neatly between your two waiting forefingers.

Except He didn’t pass you the blunt. Instead, He Held a hand up to you, signalling for you to wait as He brought it to his own lips and pulled in a deep breath. Your eyes drifted down to his chest, watching it rise slowly as He inhaled. His shirt shifted with the movement, showing more of the graphic on the front.

Your concentration was broken by his spare hand coming to cup your face, tilting your face towards his. There wasn’t a moment for you to speak before He was pulling you in and firmly planting his lips against yours. They were softer than you had expected them to be. The kiss was sloppy and wet yet ever so tentative.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt Kenny’s lips open. They only parted slightly but you couldn’t Help but mimic his actions. One of your hands fell over the top of his, cupping it and keeping it firmly planted on your face.

Only when Kenny began to breathe out did you realise what the actual purpose of the kiss was. Slowly, you began to inhale the smoke that was pouring out of his lungs. It went down smoothly, gliding down your throat and settling in your lungs.

Once He was sure you had taken it all in, Kenny’ slowly began to pull away, eyes pulling open until He was staring into yours. His blue eyes seemed to almost sparkle in the low lighting of the room, especially as you watched them gently shift back and forth between yours, almost looking for something, a reaction of any kind. And He got it when you let out a gentle giggle, the smoke spilling from your lips and curling into the already saturated air; curling and dancing around both of your necks, almost seeming to pull you in closer.

Kenny’s face light up in a blush as you giggle, but He doesn’t dare move away. He can feel the Head of your soft breaths on his face and it drawn him in again. He wants to feel your lips, your body. It’s probably the weed driving him, placing calming hands on his shoulders and urging him forwards – but He’s sure you’ve never looked prettier in his entire life.

By the time you’ve finished giggling, Kenny had finally moved away and it taking another long drag from the blunt. He offers it to you and you take it gratefully, pulling it up to your lips and pulling in a deep breath. You notice that, just as you had when He first pulled in a breath, Kenny was watching the rise and fall of your chest carefully. His eyes didn’t move even as you Held the smoke in your lungs, even as you breathed out – He was acutely focused on you.

“Kiss me.” It was blunt, his eyes moving up to stare intensely into yours as He said it.

You felt Heat rise to your face as you chocked on your own saliva. Covering your mouth with a balled first you practically crumped up, folding in half as you tried to clear your throat. Your Heart pumped rapidly against your chest as you tried to still your mind and think clearly about what He had said.

“Is that a no?”

You sat up when you heard him speak, nearly dropping the blunt that was still balanced precariously between your forefingers.

“No! I just- caught me off guard,” your voice wobbles as you speak, taking deep breaths and forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

Once again, silence settled between the both of you as your eyes met. Only this time, it didn’t end in one of you taking a drag from the now spent blunt, or an awkward comment – but rather in another kiss.

Kenny pressed his lips against yours, one hand moving to cup your face while the other takes the blunt from your hand. You relax, tilting your Head and leaning into the kiss as He fumbles behind the both of you to get rid of the blunt in an ashtray on his bedside table. His lips were soft against yours, wet from where he had been licking them. You move to hold onto his shoulders, moving your lips against his in perfect harmony.

The hand that had previously been fiddling with the ashtray moved to rest on your waist, massaging the soft flesh through the hoodie you were wearing. Slowly, he began to guide you, swivelling you around until your head was laying on his pillow. Not once was did his lips move away from yours while he shifted.

Your hands move from where they had been resting on his biceps, slowly gliding up to his shoulders and into his messy golden-blond locks. Carding your fingers through his hair, you began to feel the need to breathe and had to gently tug on his hair to get him to pull away.

The second his lips were parted from yours, He was attacking your neck. Sloppy kisses down the side of your neck, right over your pulse point. He was leaving a trail of saliva as He went, beginning to slowly nip at the conjunction between your shoulder and your neck.

Kenny began to nip harder at your skin, sucking gently on the spot he was nipping. You let out a quiet moan from deep in your throat, pulling gently at his hair as he continued his ministrations. Finally, he pulled away, kissing the small and newly forming bruise.

“Fuck…” His breath puffed out over your now wet neck.

“Kenny,” You moaned gently, head tilted back and eyes squeezed closed.

Kenny’s hands began to slide under your shirt, splaying over your stomach. His thumbs began to move, brushing gently over your soft skin. You arch you back, pushing against his gently calloused hands.

“Can I take this off?” He mumbled into your neck, hands pulling out of your shirt to gently tug at it. You nodded gently as an answer, mumbling out a soft yes.

With your confirmation, he began to pull your shirt up and over your head. You had to arch your back and roll with him to help him pull it off. As soon as the shirt was no longer on your body, it was thrown to the floor beside his parka and his mouth was on your abdomen. More sloppy kisses were being placed on your heated skin, trailing down towards the top of your jeans.

He doesn’t even speak this time, just looking up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes and hooking his fingers into the top. The gentle tugging and ideas of what were to come drove you to lift your hips and let out a gentle whine. As soon as he felt your hips lift up, he was undoing the button and tugging your jeans down your legs. They were discarded on the floor beside your shirt within seconds of finally being freed from your legs.

You felt arousal drip into a pool un your stomach, causing your slick to pool in your panties as you waited for him to remove them. Instead, shock hit you as you felt his tongue press against your core through the silk material of your panties.

“Kenny!” you gasp, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. His eyes were closed in what looked like bliss, lips pressed against your clothed entrance. He didn’t open his eyes, even when you laced a hand into his hair and tugged slightly.

Kenny pulled away slightly, lips still ghosting your panties as he mumbled something. You couldn’t hear it, but you didn’t have time to ask about it as he pressed his mouth against you again. It felt amazing, even through your panties.

It doesn’t last much longer as Kenny presses his hands against the outsides of your thighs. Pushing against them slightly and moving upwards until his fingers are slipping under the thin straps that hug your hips. He pulls away far enough to slide off your panties, letting them drop one he’s pulled them off your knees. You take a second to kick them off properly, tossing them in a direction you’re not quite sure of. They were probably gonna be lost in Kenny’s room until he cleaned up a little.

You look down as him, watching him carefully as he stares at your dripping core. Embarrassment rises in your chest as you watch him stare. Eventually it becomes too much and you let yourself fall back, pulling an arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your own elbow.

The feeling doesn’t last long though, as Kenny grabs your things, pulling them up onto his shoulders and tentatively pressing his lips against your now exposed core. Everything felt so sensitive as he began to run his tongue through your folds, groaning against your pussy. You manage another peak at the blond caged between your thighs, face contorted in pleasure as he eats you out. Deep moans reverberate from somewhere within his chest, rising though his throat and passing straight into your pussy.

Your thighs pull in tighter around his head as his tongue finds your clit, pressing small, tight circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. The muscles in your lower stomach and leg begin to twitch as he stimulates the little swollen bud, pushing against it in was that your fingers could never achieve. Even with such little stimulation your back was already beginning to arch, legs bending to pull him in closer against you.

“Fuck, Kenny…” You mumble, feeling a hand trace gentle yet calming circles on your outer thigh. They kept you in the moment, seeming to stop you from floating off and pulling you back into his mattress.

“You taste so good.” You barely hear him as he mumbles his words against your cunt. His voice carried something so loving that you couldn’t help but let out a gentle sigh, pulling at his soft locks slightly.

Your ankles cross as he pushes his mouth harder against you, tongue moving to run through your folds and press against your clit in a repetitive motion. It was driving you mad, the perfect feeling.

Slowly, the hand that had been practically massaging your thigh came to trace the underneath of it, never breaking contact with your skin as It moved. You felt it travel further, eventually moving to your inner thigh before gently tracing your entrance.

One of Kenny’s finger dipped into your cunt, only slipping in up to the second knuckle before pulling out again. You could feel your pussy fluttering as he did it again, sliding in a little further this time. He kept doing it, pulling his finger out and gently sliding it back in, until he reached the base of this finger – then he stopped being so careful. His finger began to pump into you a bit faster, curling up against your soft walls. You were already squirming, but it only gets worse as Kenny continues swirling his tongue over your sensitive clit.

His moaning only serves to drive you further towards the edge, making your face scrunch up in pleasure as his face begins to move, encouraging you to grind your hips against his face. And you did. He begins to moan more, and you half expect him to grab your hip and pull you in closer, only to feel him shift below you and hear him start to whimper.

The pleasure was only building up in your body, dripping and pooling into a white-hot puddle in your belly. Back arching and other hand digging into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer against you. His tongue felt like it was working magic with every flicker, searing pleasure shooting though your body.

Your climax edged ever closer, only pushed by the fact that you could feel Kenny’s arm moving. Everything about the moment felt perfect.

Finally, the rope snapped and you were sent tumbling over the edge, thighs tensing and hands tugging at his hair. You became deaf to your own moans, his name tumbling form your lips as he guided you through your orgasm.

You felt like you were floating as you finally began to come down from your high. Kenny’s head was still pressed neatly between your legs, blond locks now messy and covering his eyes. However, he didn’t move, slit gently lapping at your now encroaching overstimulated pussy. His hand working faster to finish himself as he kept his focus on you.

Whimpers began to fill your throat and mouth, spilling into the air, accompanied by the wet sounds of your own pleasure and the quiet murmurs of his. His moaning got louder, lips finally separating from your hot core so his face could press into your thigh, gasping against your soft skin as he pushed himself further and further towards the edge.

“Fuck… (Y/n)...” he was speaking into your thigh as your hands still scratched lightly at his scalp, hips bucking up into his fist and panting. You could hear him reaching his own end, mumbling words bubbling up in what seemed like begging.

Kenny finally reached his end, body twitching and free hand gripping your thigh. He buried his face into your soft skin, nuzzling slightly as he rode through his high. His hand stopped, pulling away from himself and moving to rest on your thigh.

His face stayed there for a moment, regaining his breath recovering from the feeling. The warmth of his breathing puffing against your thighs was comforting and almost began to lull you into sleep. You could feel your mind slipping, drifting away as your eyes fought it stay open.

In your half-awake state, you could feel Kenny rise, pressing his palms against your thighs to help himself up. He gently rubbed his hands against the hot, soft skin in small, soothing motions.

Kenny leant down, pressing a kiss against your neck, holding himself chest to chest with you for a second. His voice was gentle as he mumbled something into your ear that you didn’t really pick up, both hands cupping your hips, thumbs massaging the skin.

A whine is pulled from your throat as his warmth is peeled away from your body. You reach up, eyes still closed, searching for the body that has already left. The faint noise of feet padding out of the door lets you know he’s leaving.

After a few minutes, you heard Kenny renter the room. His body once again moved to rest between your thighs. Shivers ran through your body when a warm washcloth pressed against your thighs, cleaning where his hands had pressed against you. You let out a light whimper as he pressed it against your core, gently cleaning you.

“Are you ok?” His voice was soft, causing you to crack your eyes open to look at his face. His soft blue eyes scanned your face, waiting for a reaction. You couldn’t summon much more than a small nod, feeling yourself melt into the mattress.

There was a small shuffle as hands slid under you, moving you until your body was laying properly on the bed. The mattress dipped as a warm body slipped in next to you. Kenny’s warmth was once again pressed against your bare skin, a hand sliding around your body until his hand was pressed into your back, keeping you pressed against him. You didn’t fight this, nuzzling into his warmth, your face pressing against his chest. The gentle hands of sleep finally took you, letting you fall into that floating feeling as you listened to Kenny breathe just above your head.

[bettsfic]

2023 WIP cleanout

a couple years ago i did a major WIP cleanout and it was very satisfying, and i've been bummed out lately so i'm doing it again to cheer myself up.

i have about 200k worth of unposted/unfinished fic, and i'd like to make a decent dent in that. when i listed out my WIPs i was surprised to find that most of them i'd written past the 50% mark and for whatever reason, the fic went an unanticipated direction. instead of fixing it, i moved on. the problem is that usually the unanticipated direction is something cool and that i want to pursue, but would make the fic longer and more complicated than i want it to be, and more work than i want to put into it. once i get enough distance from a fic, it's a lot easier to see how to get it back on track.

there are many things i set down and never think about again, but if it sticks in my head for longer than a couple months, then i know i need to come back to it eventually.

so this is my accountability thread! and i'm going to lay out the steps i took to triage these fics and get them posted, in case it helps anyone struggling with the same problem.

here are the things on my WIP cleanout list:

(Organic Chemistry isn't on this list because i'm actively working on it, albeit slowly)

Wind of the New World

Annie/Finnick, The Hunger Games (ASE epilogue)

started August 2020

this one is what inspired the cleanout, and as of yesterday it is DONE and POSTED. for the longest time it sat at about 7k when i knew it would be 10k, and i couldn't make myself write the last 3k because somehow it turned into a threesome fic with Gale and it took me a loooong time to let go of that idea. also, it required a lot of canon knowledge, which faded the longer i kept it on the backburner.

to finish it, i:

killed a few darlings (Finnick's crush on Gale)

down drafted the scenes i hadn't yet written

reread ASE while taking notes

rewatched Mockingjay 2 while taking notes

transcribed several scenes of Mockingjay 2

made a punch list of things i wanted to fix/rearrange/expand on

up drafted, dental drafted, and posted

completing it took about 15 hours across 3 days.

Stray

Lumine/Razor, Genshin Impact

started April 2021

this is an alternate beginning to genshin where the traveler finds Razor instead of Paimon. it stalled out at 5k because i wanted it to be rated M and i also wanted the characters to get all the way to Liyue, but both of those things were far more work than i wanted to put into it. so now it'll be rated G and end when they reach Mondstadt. i don't anticipate it will be more than 7k.

Before the Suns Rise

Anakin/Padme/Obi-Wan, Star Wars

started June 2022

this one is nearly 45k and about 95% done. i set it down because 1) i got to the threesome part and writing threesomes is hard, 2) i hadn't watched the Clone Wars or Rebels yet and so i was self-conscious about my knowledge of canon, and 3) i got distracted by Lemon.

another thing that a lot of these WIPs have in common is that they're very closely tied to canon and therefore have Plot and even though i can do Plot, i find it exhausting and a little tedious.

this is a post-Vader, alt-OWK timeline fic. in the 20+ star wars fics i've written, only 5 of them are in any way related to canon, and they're all one-shots. so this one is going to be hard.

i anticipate it'll only take 5k to finish, for a total of 50k and 14 chapters.

Patronage

Seungho/Nakyum, Painter of the Night

started October 2021

this is my Patreon AU that's over 10k already. in it, Seungho is married to Jihwa (and cheating on him with Nakyum) and i wanted to write the whole thing through to their divorce (and Seungho Getting A Real Job), but that is just. a lot. so i'm going to write only to Seungho finally giving in to his feelings for Nakyum, with the knowledge that after season 4 is finished, i may want to continue it as a series and write the latter half as i'd intended.

i'll probably only add 1-2k, for a total of 12k.

In Water Falling

Ahsoka/Rex, Star Wars

started November 2022

this was the first rexsoka fic i started working on when i finished Clone Wars. i got about 10k in, scrapped it, wrote another 15k, scrapped it, and then started focusing on Organic Chemistry. also, i just got very frustrated with it. to fix this one, i think i need to lower my expectations of it, rearrange some plot points, and write the final 2-3 scenes.

maybe 3-4k more? hopefully it'll cap out under 20k.

There & Here

Chishiya/OFC, Alice in Borderland

started February 2023

in my defense, i set this one down, like. a week ago. there's nothing i'm stalled out on; i just have to finish it.

currently 25k, hopefully only 5k more, capping out under 30k. it's 4 chapters.

things i intend to finish later:

Good Bones - this is my Emergency Fic that i'm saving for when i'm too blocked to write anything else

Bomb Time - this is a BOSAS fix-it. i definitely want to finish it, but i'm going to wait until the film comes out in November, so i don't have to reread the book to remember what's going on