#I couldn't get the perspective on his legs right

[wolfram-but-art]

mercenaries the typa person to say "is anyone gonna fall in love with that?" and then not wait for an answer

reblogs > likes btw \(^_^)/

zoom-ins under cut :3

the polka dot brush texture was made by ggutinho on DeviantArt btw!!

[lyrefromthesea]

Please can I request pre-relationship hashira x hashira!reader, where they are sparing together and it becomes a bit suggestive 💙💙

Male pillars x reader - Sparing with benefits

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu , reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: suggestiveness

Tengen:

"you could just give up, there's no chance you could win against my flamboyant self!" he taunted, running around the courtyard with you.

you had been fighting for ten minutes and there was still no end in sight. you weren't a bad fighter, you've been promoted as a hashira some time ago, but Tengen was at advantage right now.

he was faster than you. he had been saving himself from your attacks by avoiding them every time. the smirk on his face only spurred you on more, wanting to win this fight and show him that you were a good fighter.

however, when you raised your bamboo sword for an attack and he turned around to dodge it, you felt yourself trip on a root. it had been sticking out of the ground, making you fall over.

surprised by what has happened, Tengen lost his own halt and fell backwards, landing in a sitting position. you felt yourself fall onto him, at least partly.

when you checked your surroundings, you found your head on his lap. your cheek pressed against his groin. meeting his gaze, you could see his cocky smirk.

"it was an accident! i didn't mean to.." you said, wanting to stand up instantly. this would definitely look wrong from an outsider's perspective.

when you tried to stand up, you felt his hand tangle in your hair, pressing your cheek a bit more against his groin, only satisfied when you felt the bulge against your skin.

"just so you know, my wives had always found you cute enough for this.." he teased, his eyes staying on your widened eyes.

you pushed away, running away from his grip and off the training field.

Obanai:

he was proud of you for becoming a hashira. when he took you in as his tsuguko, he wasn't sure if he made the right decision, but he was sure now.

you were able to follow his movements, dodge his attacks and even make some of your own. your elegance captivated him and he found himself admiring your fighting style.

perhaps he had been diving in his thoughts too much, because when his attention was finally back on you, he was already on the ground.

your legs were on either side of him, straddling his body. heterochromic eyes were staring deeply into yours, surprised by the sudden turn of events.

"i win, Obanai." you said, looking down at the man. your hands were resting on his chest, leaning forward slightly.

his heartbeat was increasing under your hands, cheeks flushing. it wasn't the first time he noticed how beautiful you were, but your allure only increased like this.

"you.. you do.." he muttered, not being able to turn his eyes away from you. yet again, neither were you. you leaned down further, remaining with your faces only a few inches apart.

it would've been so easy to kiss him right now. however, feeling your hips rub against his groin, he couldn't stop his body from reacting, his hands gripping your waist.

"[name], g- get down.."

Rengoku:

"flame breathing. third form: blazing universe!" he called out, his bamboo sword coming at you with immense speed. you barely managed to block his attack - meaning you didn't do it.

your body flew a few feet away, landing on the ground. with a quiet grunt, you turned onto your back. "i give up.." you sighed.

however, there was no audible reaction from Rengoku. turning your head towards him, you wanted to know what's wrong, only to see his wide eyes staring.

he shook his head, running towards you and kneeling down. "are.. are you okay?" he asked, seeing you nod. he didn't respond, as if he knew something you didn't.

"just tell me, Rengoku!" you pleaded, feeling yourself enter a state of panic. did you lose a leg? it wasn't like him to behave this way.

he moved his hand closer, placing his hand against the side of your stomach. your eyes widened, looking down at yourself, staring at your torn uniform.

not only the right side of your shirt, but also the entirety of your right pant leg was missing. you instantly sat up, trying to cover up.

"i didn't know, i will-" you tried excusing yourself, but fell silent when he squeezed your waist slightly, attention moving back to him.

"i'll bring you back." he answered, taking off his haori and pulling it over your form. it didn't help covering your leg, but at least your upper body looked a bit more presentable.

he scooped you into his arms, both your legs around his waist. you rested your chin on his shoulder, wishing to disappear. the whole situation was embarrassing, and even worse, you had felt warm when he touched your skin unhindered.

his hand held you up by your thighs, his grip on your right thigh a bit stronger. you could feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your leg, glancing up at him.

"you.. you're really soft." he quietly said, not able to hide his red face from you.

perhaps the whole situations had it's advantages.

Sanemi:

"stop running! just admit defeat!" he shouted after you, determined to get this fight over with. the only problem: you were extremely fast. you managed to dodge his attacks every time.

"never!" you answered, seeing him try to attack again. you were ready to dodge his bamboo sword, but were shocked to see him drop it mid-attack.

his hand shot towards you instead, quite literally knocking you down with his harsh hit. your back made contact with the ground, Sanemi tackling you down immediately.

"i win." he said, smirking at your defeated form. you tried freeing yourself, not able to push up with his hand on your neck.

"i didn't give up yet." you huffed out, feeling him squeezing your throat lightly - he was warning you. only that his warning didn't work as intended.

a quiet whimper escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment. he had heard the sound, you knew it.

"oh? didn't know you were into the rough treatment." he smirked - teased. your reaction was immediate, pressing your knee up and right against his crotch.

he groaned, letting go of you. he clearly hadn't expected you to do that, especially not after you pushed him away and freed yourself.

"didn't know you were into that, Shinazugawa."

"you-"

naturally, another fight started right after.

Giyuu:

how did this happen? thirty minutes of fighting just for your bamboo sword to be kicked to the side by him. he had been too fast for you, leaving you unable to react.

your back was pressed against the wall, wide eyes staring into his. he had caged you between the wall and his body, his form towering over you.

ocean eyes were deeply staring into yours, his hand pressing against the wall behind you. he couldn't tear his gaze away from your body, not when you were presented right in front of him.

"you lost." he stated, as if it wasn't obvious to the both of you. his eyes narrowed, his other hand moving towards you.

"if this had been a fight with a demon, you would've died." he said, making you feel like prey under his eyes. he placed his hand on your chin, thumb nearly grazing your lips.

"don't lose focus." he uttered, but his eyes had long broken their contact with yours. he was watching your lips instead, as if he was debating on a kiss.

"i wont." you answered breathlessly, getting his attention back on you. he let go of your chin, stepping away and picking up your sword.

"let's try it out." he taunted, neither of you really focusing on winning or losing now.

Gyomei:

this fight was unfair to begin with. without a doubt, you were one of the strongest swordsman in the corps. you've served as a hashira for three years now, but no one could win against Gyomei.

naturally, you admitted defeat when he threw you over half the lake, immediately asking whether you're fine or not.

your head broke through the water, gasping for air. the water was freezing cold, but you told him you're fine.

he still made the effort to help you out of the water, drenching his own clothes in the freezing liquid.

"are you sure you're okay?" he asked, big tears already rolling down his face again. you avoided your eyes from his form, not trying to appear inappropriate.

"i'm fine." you answered, looking at your own body. both of your clothes were quite see-through, giving you a greedy sight of his muscles and abs.

looking down at yourself, your clothes weren't any better. you thought of yourself as lucky, not wanting to live with the shame of letting him see so much of your body.

"come, it's freezing in here." he told you, pulling you into his arms and out of the water as he made his way out of it.

what you didn't know, was how his fingers could feel everything that you were seeing. your clothes stuck to your skin, not leaving much room for imagination.

he stepped out of the water, but instead of letting you down, his head tilted towards yours, foreheads nearly touching.

his hands squeezed your body, millions of thoughts running through his head. "you're.." he said, but he stopped, not wanting to do something he might regret later.

"you're still wet, we should get some dry clothes.." he told you instead, putting you down again, his hand sliding against your curves for a moment.

you watched him walk forward, your lips parted. was it wrong that you had hoped for him to continue?

[bunny-jpeg]

the golden years

fernando alonso

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (22/43), sugar daddy au, ditzy!reader, rough sex, daddy kink, doggy style, chokehold, dirty talk, mean!fernando, age kink (?)

fernando knew that it had been a good few years since he won a world championship. the two time world champion felt the crawl of age when you looked at him with such innocent eyes and said,

"two-thousand and six? i was like... four years old!"

fernando could feel the grey hairs as you said that. you were twenty-two years old, you were born the year that fernando started in formula one. he knew what he was getting himself into, but to put in that sort of perspective made him feel old.

he ran a hand through your hair and said, "i guess that is right, my love." then patted your cheek, "why don't we get started on dinner."

you ciripus looked at him as you put your hand on his thigh. you said to him tenderly, "but, daddy... it's only one in the afternoon? we don't have to make dinner that early!"

fernando watched you by the pool in his yard. he had watched you in that little green bikini clean out the leaves from the pool earlier. you looked adorable as he eyed your behind as you bent over to shake the leaves from the net. you cutely scolded the leaves when they ended up in the grass. you were just a little airhead, weren't you? you were at times painfully innocent, and fernando enjoyed being a guiding hand in your life. especially when his hand was in your hair and had you bent over.

today he had invited you over, anything to get you away from the little shoebox you refused to move from. he enjoyed the sight of you in his space. to have you in his home. it was where you belonged. it didn't help that you were to die for in the little outfits that showed off a lot of skin and all of your curves. all clothes bought with fernando's credit card. he happily bought you clothes that he could eye fuck you in.

he liked you in pastels, in cuts that showed off your breasts and skirts that he could flip up easily, preferably with no panties underneath. you were his questionably younger lover, but fernando couldn't care less.

let them stare, it only encouraged fernando to claim you further. to keep you as his. he continued to watch you from the patio door as you moved the lounging chair further on the grass where the sun was the strongest. you then laid out on it with your gossip magazine.

you looked nicer than any trophy that fernando had. the metal looked duller compared to your gleaming smile. he moved outside and into the yard, his eyes hungry for you. and you barely noticed him as he approached, you were too engrossed with the trashy articles. you didn't see your sugar daddy approaching you.

he eyed your figure closer. the pastel green looked lovely against your skin. the top of your bikini pressed your breasts together and then a bead sweat dripped down the valley of your plush breasts.

you only noticed him when he blocked the sun from your face. you tipped your glasses down and looked at him, "yes, daddy?" he only noticed the gloss on your lips, he wondered if it was the expensive gloss that you begged to have. you were very good at getting what you wanted. fernando liked to spoil you.

"someone enjoying the sun today?" he sat by your stretched out legs. he ran his hand up and down your exposed thigh, "no one else has seen this, have they?" a small curl of pleasure in his gut at the sight of you. his words were tinged with mild possession.

you were all his.

"fernando." you giggled a little, "i guess someone want more than just some sun, huh?" you smiled with more warmth than any prize he could obtain. you were a mini sun in your own right.

"well, you're much brighter than the sun, my love." he continued to rub your leg. you looked at him and smiled brightly at him. he only returned the favourite, but his touch felt possessive. "next time." he said, "i need to buy you a different swimsuit. they'll be tripping over themselves at the sight of you."

"because i look so bad?"

"no, because you look too good." fernando leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. you tasted like bubblegum. he groaned into the kiss before he pressed further into you. his strong hands held onto your shoulders.

you lived a charmed little life with fernando wrapped around your fingers. you didn't abuse your power, you were a good girl after all. if you were good girl, then he'd be good to you. you ended up leaned further back in the chair and moaned into a heated kiss. his hands were on your soft breasts, you panted against him, "please, honey. i need you. it has been too long."

"daddy."

"princess." he said softly, "i know we just did it this morning. i made you squirm under me. you sounded so beautiful when you came." he chuckled against your heated skin. warmed from the sun, "so beautiful, no one else can have in that way. the way i do. you're all mine."

his tone was possessive and his touches were even more so. it wasn't long before you ended up with the chair all the way back and you on your stomach. fernando was between your legs as he eyed your behind in the green bikini bottoms. they framed your ass beautifully, but the fabric looked better thrown into the pool and his cock up against your behind. you felt amazing even if he wasn't having sex with you yet.

that was soon changed with almost seven inched sank inside of your needy little cunt. you fit him perfectly, it did take a while for you to get used to his cock. it was a little too big for someone like you. it felt good to do it outside, the sun on your skin while your lover drilled his cock into you.

"fuck, princess. look at you,, you need this, you want this my cock inside of your little pussy. you know this is where it belongs." he groaned as he continued to fuck you.

"please, daddy! ah, fernando!" you were obsessed with him. you wanted him in every way you could get your hands on him. in reality he was as equal as obsessed with you.

fernando wanted you deeply, to ruin you for anyone else. so you'd only want him, even if fernando stopped spoiling you with gifts (unlikely), but he'd always spoil you with orgasms.

you moved against the chair with his movements, it felt arousing as your nipples rubbed up against your bikini top and the chair. you gasped and your back arched as his cock hit just the right place. he could hear everything you had, it was only right that you gave him some sugar, to let him devour you beautifully.

"no one else." he said, "no one else, but you." he combed his fingers through your hair as he continued to move against you. he kissed at the nape of your neck and felt you shudder against him. there was a certain quality to you that pulled him in. that he loved. as he thrusted into you, he felt a tug of devotion in his chest for you. like a single angelic prayer, any prayers he had were answered when you came into his life.

beautiful, playful and so fucking dumb.

he happily paid and you gave him all the loving he wanted. all he needed. why would he look for anyone else when he could easily have you for the rest of your his days. plus, with you, he could be selfish.

"you feel like heaven, my love." he purred as he continued to move. he felt everything and it made him only hungry for more. he licked his lips before he planted more kisses on your heated skin. his angel, inside and out.

"don't flatter me."

"it's not flattery if it's true." he replied as he continued to fuck your achy cunt until you were moaning loudly. he could feel the noises echo in his body, maybe he was obsessed with you, but, hey, that was why he slipped into your bank account . the growing balance of euros every time he sank into your heavenly cut.

you moaned against the chair and held onto the edge of it tightly as he continued to batter your achy sex. fuck, it felt amazing. you exhaled deeply and your back bent a little more.

"you know i love you, i adore you more than anything. you are picture perfect." his words were hungry and left warmth pooled in your gut, "you are all mine, you don't want any other man. just me, right?" he let out a groan. his pace was quick and hit against all the right areas.

you couldn't have anyone else because fernado was selfish with your attention, with your love. he wanted you. you were pushed as far as you could go up against the chair with your lover's heavy movements. your noises were loud, but you had a fair bit of privacy so it wasn't a big deal that you were so loud.

fernando kissed your neck once more and your clutched onto the chair tightly. you panted heavily and he moved roughly. the fucking between you two was hot and you were both loud in the privacy of the yard.

"you're perfect, at my pool, in my house, you're all mine. i thought you that little bikini even the earrings you wear. all mine, just like your pretty pussy." his words excited you dearly as he worked your body under him. there were words that died on your tongue and only left you with hot moans. "you take me wonderfully." he groaned as he pushed your face against the chair as his cock bullied and possibly bruised your insides. as great as it could be.

you panted into the fabric as your cunt clenched around him. you groaned loudly into the seat as you came around his cock. he continued his rapid movements to fuck you into a lovely submission.

it only spurred fernando on, he worked you body as you were in a post orgasmic bliss. you gladly let him do whatever he wanted and with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you. it was a blessing to finish inside of you that way.

he rode through his orgasm and eventually slowed to a stop. he kissed your hot skin and dragged his short nails across your hips, skin soft against his fingers, another perfect part of you. he kissed you once more before he pulled out.

"fuck." you gasped as you panted through the heavy heat.

fernando said slyly, his hands still on you, "why don't you get your bottoms back on and let's go play the pool."

you giggled, "aren't you a little old for playing?"

he gazed at your backside as you shifted under him. he grinned to himself, " i enjoy playing with you, my love." then kissed your back, "i'd do it every day if i could."

you exhaled on the chair one last time before you went to find your bottoms. fernando admired you as you were near naked in his backyard. he grasped his exposed cock for a moment and licked his lips. he wondered if you could fuck you in the green grass next." <3

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 7. the week

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel is on a mission to win you back. You struggle with your feelings and visit an old friend for some perspective.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, physical violence, wounds/blood/injuries/gore, vague reference to suicide (Joel remembering his incident after Sarah), alcohol consumption, non-descriptive smutty memory, mentions of murder (adults and children), mentions of pregnancy (not reader)

WC: 7.7K

A/N: I took some liberties with the background of the Fireflies, it's not exactly canon.

Series Masterlist

Somewhere in Northern California

It took two days.

Two full days of freezing temperatures and frigid wind as he traversed up and down mountains, through snow covered forests with little to no shelter, but he finally made it. Right before nightfall, he approached the edge of the town you grew up in. The town your parents still lived in ten years ago. The town that holds a history of you and everything you hold dear.

It was too dark and he was too tired to enter the town and go any further, but fortune smiled upon him for the first time since he left Jackson when he spotted a dilapidated woodshed tucked into the forest. It was small, no bigger than a bedroom, but it would do. It would be the first time in two days he would get to sleep with a roof over his head, and he desperately needed it.

He grossly overestimated his ability to survive out in the wild. He did it before, of course, but life in Jackson made him soft. Made him complacent. Made him weak.

Time took its toll on his body. His age was an offensive reminder every time his knees creaked or his back twinged. He wasn't as fast as he used to be, nor as strong. But he was determined and stubborn, two things that would never change.

With hands trembling from the cold, he jabbed his knife into the lock and broke it with ease, a small triumph in an otherwise unforgiving journey. The shed was mostly empty, save for a pile of wood and an axe. Plenty of room for both him and the horse.

After he scattered some oats on the floor, he grabbed his rifle and marched back out into the snowy tundra to do a perimeter check, knowing he would fall asleep the moment he allowed himself to slow down. By the time he deemed the area safe, he retreated back into the woodshed and lit a fire in the tiny furnace to warm up a bit.

Once he got feeling back in his fingers, he cracked open some stew and ate it cold straight from the can, too impatient to warm it up and too eager to get some rest. The wind howled outside, practically screaming at him with every gust: How could you say that to me?

The horse nickered softly, her head lowered, one back leg cocked as she began to doze off. He laid on the wooden floor, partially resting inside his sleeping bag, ready to strike if there was an intruder. The back of his wrist laid against his forehead while he stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering for the umpteenth time if what he was doing was even going to work. If he would even be capable of finding your house in this town, let alone finding any pictures still in good enough condition to bring back to you.

But it was all he had.

You had mentioned to him when he was sick, after you saw the photo of Sarah, how you wished you had pictures of your family. You looked so somber and distant and he was once again reminded that even though you lost them ten years ago, in your mind you only lost them months ago.

He couldn't imagine losing Sarah twice. Waking up one day, thinking she was alive and healthy and late for school just to be told she was killed mercilessly ten years prior and died in his arms. You were so much stronger than him. You always were. You were told your whole world changed, your family gone, and then tossed into a house with him, pressured by everyone every damn day to regain your memories and become a completely different person when he knew deep down if the same had happened to him, his answer would lie at the end of a barrel. But unlike before, he might not flinch.

You really fucking hurt me, Joel.

He rubbed his face aggressively, the pain and anguish in your voice haunting him. This trip left him with too much time to get lost in his thoughts, too much time to wallow in his grief and replay every single painful memory from the past several days.

Sighing, he dropped his hands to his chest and tried to think about something else. Letting his eyes drift shut, he let his mind wander back to before. Before your accident, before he fucked everything up, back to a time when you were happy and stupidly in love.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?" he heard your voice behind him.

He grinned as he stirred a pot of sauce on the stove while you wrapped your arms around his midsection, burying your face against his back.

"My accent rubbin' off on you now?"

You giggled and let go, walking over to grab the bottle of whiskey and pouring you each a glass.

"Maybe."

You handed him his glass and clinked them together before taking a sip.

"How was patrol?" he asked, turning his attention back to the pasta.

"Boring," you replied, hopping up onto the counter next to him, swinging your legs back and forth. "Jesse has a lot of work to do. He's not seasoned enough to be out there without one of us."

He nodded thoughtfully and lifted the spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. "Needs lemon," you said, licking your upper lip while he snatched a lemon from a basket in the corner of the kitchen and sliced it in half.

"Yeah, I know, but he's got potential. Just gotta get him to focus a bit more. Gotta be more aware of his surroundings."

You hummed and rubbed the back of your neck with a wince.

"You hurtin'?" he asked, but you shook your head immediately.

"Just tired."

"You sure?" he said while he strained the pasta. "I can rub your neck later."

"Oh, well in that case, yes. I'm absolutely aching over here," you said with a smile.

"Don't tempt me, baby," he told you, setting down the pot before wedging himself between your knees, his hands rubbing over your thighs. "Might not stop at your neck."

"Is that right?" you teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth playfully.

"Mhmm. First it's your neck, then shoulders," he said, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips, "then your back," he dragged his hands up your back and pressed you forward, nearly pulling you off the counter.

"Then what?" you asked breathlessly, arms loosely draping around the back of his neck.

"Before y'know it, you'll be pullin' at my belt, tellin' me you got an ache someplace else 'n you need me to stuff you full of my cock." His hands dragged up and down your back, his mouth nipping gently at your throat as you tipped your head back with a gasp.

"You know me so well," you murmured, a lazy smirk spreading across your face when you felt the urgency behind his touch.

"Yeah I do, baby," his words getting lost against your skin, "know you like the back of my hand. Know what makes you tick. What makes you feel good. Know what makes you scream my fuckin' name." His lips slotted over yours urgently, the pasta cold and long forgotten as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close.

"Take me to bed, Joel," you begged after you pulled your head away, breaking the kiss and then quickly latching onto his neck. "Need you. I want - shit!" you cursed when one of you accidentally pushed a plate off the counter and it smashed into pieces against the floor.

"Leave it, don't care," he said, picking you up and pulling your attention off the shards of ceramic littering the floor. "I'll clean it up later."

His eyes popped open, the echo of your giggle from that night bouncing around his skull. It was almost laughable now, thinking he felt lonely before compared to how he felt in the middle of fucking nowhere with only a sleeping horse to keep him company.

He wasn't stupid. He knew he would need to do more than bring home some pictures to convince you to forgive him. But it was a start, and maybe, just maybe with time, you would come to understand what you meant to him.

And if he was really lucky, he might end up meaning something to you, too.

It was stupid and it didn't mean anything.

That's what you kept telling yourself ever since Joel left and you found yourself curling up in his bed at night instead of yours.

His bed was more comfortable. His room didn't store the bad memories of your fight. It was simply easier to sleep there.

It certainly didn't have anything to do with the way the sheets still smelled like him. Like the soap you both used combined with the outdoors and a hint of his sweat. And on the third night when you picked out a flannel of his from the closet and wrapped it around yourself, it was only because it was a particularly frigid night.

You didn't miss him.

Well, you missed having another person in the house, sure. But you didn't miss him on some deeper level. Maria and Ellie were wrong. They had no idea what they were talking about. They had no idea what was going through your head, what you were feeling, what you were struggling with.

There was no possible way you could have feelings for Joel. Not after everything he did and said. Not after the lies and the cheating and the deception.

But then why, when you were struggling to fall asleep at night, did your mind always wander back to the way he looked at you in the meadow, or the way his arms felt wrapped around you on the back of the horse, or the way he made you laugh when you played Monopoly?

And why did it feel like a part of you left with him that night?

"Pathetic," you muttered to yourself, pulling the sheets tighter and rolling over onto your side, his soft, worn flannel like butter against your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the memories from your mind and instead, replaying what he told you about the hospital.

He almost killed you. He was seconds away from putting a bullet in your head and only after presumably begging for your life did he let you go, and then he had the nerve to keep that information from you not only once, but fucking twice.

He was protecting Ellie.

But he still shouldn't have lied.

With a groan, you rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling, sleep so far out of reach you didn't even feel like trying anymore. Then a thought occurred to you:

You weren't the only one he let live. There were two other people in Jackson who were there, who were shown mercy and didn't appear to hold any resentment towards him for it. In fact, they seemed rather happy with the second chance they were given.

You hadn't seen Ben or Lisa in a long time. The opportunity never presented itself for you to seek any perspective from them about that day.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

It took him a few hours to scope out the town and venture out of the woods, but by late morning he was heading down what looked to be one of the main thoroughfares in town, eyes squinting against the blowing snow as he tried to pinpoint the location of town hall.

All he remembered was your street name but he had absolutely no idea how to find it, so his plan was to break into the town hall and find a map. From there, he prayed Ellie's drawing was truly accurate enough to narrow down your parents' house.

He was freezing. His face was numb and his back was fucking killing him from riding so much, but he was so close. If he was lucky, he could find your house, get what he needed and head out all before nightfall. Maybe he could even spend another night in the woodshed. It wasn't so bad. At least he was warm.

As he continued to steer his horse down another road, he couldn't help but think Tommy was right about the storm. It was providing him some cover, just in case there were survivors around that wouldn't take kindly to his intrusion. He just hoped it would blow through in a day so his ride back would be clear.

After another thirty minutes of wind whipping at his face, the cold penetrating his coat and several layers underneath, he finally saw it. It was a smaller building than he imaged it to be, but the sign was clear. Hoping that the town size was as small as the town hall, he steered his mare down the drive and through the parking lot, making sure to take in his surroundings, confirming he was truly alone before he slid down from the saddle and trudged through the snow to the front doors.

He wiped away the snow from the window, peering inside before heading to another one and doing the same. It appeared to be empty so he tried the door, unsurprisingly finding it locked. He pulled out his knife and worked on the lock, his fingers stiff and his ears so cold he could barely feel them anymore. Finally, he broke the lock but when he shoved the door, there was something blocking him on the other side.

"Shit," he muttered, glancing around, kicking and dusting snow off the surrounding area, looking for a brick or a rock. Giving up, he grabbed his rifle from the saddle and angrily made his way to the nearest window, smashing the butt of his gun against the glass repeatedly until it shattered. He gasped for air, not realizing how much energy he was exerting before he continued, knocking out as much of the glass as he could.

Sticking his head inside, he looked around. The place seemed empty. It was quiet, covered in dust and debris. Untouched dust was good. It meant nobody had been there in a while. Human or otherwise.

He crawled through the window, taking great care to not catch on any jagged edges. He held his breath, ears straining for any noise that might give someone away, but all he heard was the howling wind outside. This is your fault. Still, he kept his guard up. He walked room to room, finding his way to the lobby and searching the front desk for a map.

"You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he grumbled as he opened and shut each drawer in the desk, only pausing to snatch up an old protein bar and shoving it in his pocket.

With a sigh, he looked around the room. There were a couple benches, chairs that were moved and tipped over, papers scattered about but his eyes were drawn to the portraits on the wall. There were a few paintings of men he would never recognize, unknown sheriffs and mayors, and some framed pictures of the staff, but the one that really drew his attention was the large map on the wall next to the front doors.

It was a road map of the town. Simple, but it was all he needed. He rounded the desk and shined his flashlight over the map, studying it, searching for where he was before looking for your street.

"Grant Street."

"Grant?" he repeated, his fingers lightly skirting up and down your bare back.

"Mhmm," you confirmed, eyes closed, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips as you buried your face into his neck.

"That's funny," he said, his hand wandering past your waist and over your ass.

"Why's that?"

"Grant's my Mama's maiden name."

Your eyes opened and locked onto his. "Maybe it's fate, then."

Maybe it was.

Grant was only four blocks north. It didn't look like a very long road, either.

He could do this.

He was so close.

Lisa answered the door with the same look of surprise as before, although this time she was clutching needles and yarn in her left hand while the fire quietly crackled behind her.

"Hey," you said, arms wrapped around yourself as the snow storm continued to swirl behind you. "Can I come in?"

"Oh! Of course!" Lisa said, stepping back, "how rude of me. Can I get you something warm to drink?" She closed the door behind you and took a step towards the kitchen. "I just boiled some water for tea, it's still hot."

"Tea sounds lovely, thank you," you said as you hung up your coat and scarf, trying your best not to make a mess of melted snow all over her floor.

She told you to make yourself comfortable while she prepared your tea, so you wandered into her tiny living room, the space seeming a little larger now without your two imposing men.

"Where's Ben?"

"Working," she said, setting down a teacup and saucer next to hers. "I put a little sugar in it."

"Oh, thank you, that's perfect. I like it sweet," you replied, sitting down on the same couch as before and bringing the cup to your lips.

"I know, I remember," she said, and when she sat down and fixed her billowy top, you noticed for the first time the small bump protruding low on her hips.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and she followed your gaze.

"Oh, yes," her tone soft, "I'm due this spring."

"Wow. Congratulations, Lisa. That's wonderful, I had no idea. I thought I would have seen you from time to time at the infirmary," you explained, setting down your tea.

"Nick agrees to see me after hours, sometimes he makes house calls," she said, picking up her needles again.

You titled your head to the side. "Why do you want to be seen after hours?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes fixed on the yellow blanket she was making. "I still find it difficult sometimes to face some of the others in town, I suppose. I know I shouldn't but the guilt sticks with me."

"Guilt?"

Her eyes flicked up to yours and she shifted her weight. "I know Ben mentioned the Fireflies to you." She held out her wrist, showing you the small moth-like symbol tattooed there. "I'm not sure how much you know or remember-"

"Actually, that's why I'm here," you said, taking a deep breath. "Joel told me everything. About the Fireflies. About the hospital."

Her eyes widened, the needles abandoned in her lap.

"Oh."

"Yeah," you said, chewing on your lip and glancing at the fire. "He told me what he did there. Told me he spared us, let us go."

"Yes, he did," she agreed softly.

"Can you tell me more about that day?" you asked, dragging your eyes back to meet hers. "I'm having trouble understanding how I could have known this before and still managed to fall in love with him."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

You laughed dryly and shrugged. "I mean he almost killed us. He killed countless innocent people, friends of ours I'm assuming, and I'm expected to believe I just looked past it? We just looked past it?" You motioned between the two of you. "He's a murderer, Lisa. He-"

"We're murderers," she corrected, and you fell silent. "We killed innocent people. We helped lead a revolution that resulted in hundreds of deaths, and where did that get us? Nowhere! People weren't any better off. In fact, they were worse. Friends and family killed, caught in the crossfire, tangled up in this idea of freedom and safety and giving their lives to an empty cause."

You swallowed as you watched Lisa's face, her eyes fiery and her tone hardened, transforming into a different version of herself before your very eyes.

"What Joel did..." she trailed off as she thought back to that day. "We did bad things. So did he, but he single handedly cut the Fireflies off at the legs. He stopped the insanity, stopped the war, stopped the ridiculous experiments and half baked ideas to save the world, regardless of the lives lost along the way. You don't remember, I understand, but allow me to explain."

"Please," you begged softly, "please tell me everything."

She rested a palm against her swelling stomach and leaned back. "We realized we made a mistake pretty early on," she began, "but we didn't have anywhere else to go. We had been living in the wild for so long. We were tired and hungry and weak and we fell for it. Fell for the sales pitch when they found us. We were told we wouldn't have to fight, but they didn't tell us what they expected us to do."

"W-what did we do?" you stammered, sitting on the edge of your seat.

"We killed people. Innocent people, point blank. FEDRA soldiers. Civilians who ratted out our location for extra food for their family. Children-" her voice wobbled a bit as she looked down at her stomach. "Children who were experimented on, vaccine prototypes tested on, who became horribly disfigured a-and screaming in pain, begging to be put out of their misery-"

"Okay," you said, cutting her off and taking a deep breath, unable to hear much more. It was becoming clear why Joel kept this from you, and although you had a right to know, you were beginning to understand his motivation. He was trying to protect you.

"Anyway," Lisa continued, flicking a tear from her cheek, "we planned on getting out. We couldn't do it anymore. Then, Joel showed up."

You held your breath, waiting for her to continue.

"We were doing perimeter checks. Loosening a spot in the gate so we could sneak out later that night. Then we heard the gunshots. And at first, we thought some infected got in. It was the perfect distraction, so we grabbed our gear and made a run for it."

She paused to take a sip from her tea, her eyes looking miles away.

"We almost made it. We were in the parking garage loading up a vehicle when he snuck up behind us. Told us to lay face down on the ground with our hands behind our heads. We never saw him and it wasn't until later we found out he was all alone. The whole time we were convinced it had to have been a group of men. It seemed impossible for one man to do what he did, but somehow..."

She trailed off again and cleared her throat.

"He gave us a second chance when we didn't deserve it," she said solemnly. "You and Ben dealt with the weight of what we did far better than me. I still struggle with the guilt, I can't..." she looked up at you, "I hope you never remember."

A chill went down your spine and you nodded.

"Try not to hold it against him," she said, offering you a small smile. "We've all done terrible things. It's not all black and white."

It ain't black and white.

"Yeah, okay," you replied quietly, standing up from the couch, your mind reeling. "Thanks," you added, motioning to the tea before she walked you to the door, "and congratulations again."

"Thank you," she said, rubbing her belly, her green eyes sparkling. "I'm glad you stopped by. The truth is sometimes ugly, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve to understand the whole picture." You nodded and bent over to shove on your boots. "Joel's not a bad man. I'm sure he was just trying to protect you by leaving some things out about our past. He would have told you eventually."

When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em.

"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that now," you said, shrugging on your coat with a wry smile.

The whole way home, you practically kicked yourself for not visiting Lisa sooner. Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. But it finally felt like a missing puzzle piece was back in place and you could begin to make sense of your confusing feelings for Joel.

Ellie was incredibly talented.

He needed to make sure to remind her of that when he got home because even through the blowing snow, in near whiteout conditions, he was still able to figure out which house was yours because Ellie's drawing was so detailed, so accurate that it almost felt like he had been there before.

He was eager and impatient. He just wanted to get inside and get what he needed and leave, but before he did, he peered inside the windows and did a walk around the whole house three times, just in case. It was a small brick ranch and if the snow wasn't so thick, he would be able to see the black shutters framing the front windows, just like in the drawing.

He shouldered open the side garage door first, a pile of fluffy snow spilling over the hard concrete as he stumbled in and shimmied open the roll top door so he could bring his mare inside.

He pat her between the eyes, murmuring his thanks for being so damn tough and sprinkled some more oats on the ground before slipping inside the house.

The door from the attached garage led right into a kitchen, which, by the looks of it, was rifled through on more than one occasion. No doubt some survivors had come through over the years and turned the place upside down for anything useful, but that didn't matter to him. What he needed wouldn't be stolen.

Glancing at the fridge, he paused when he saw some photos stuck to the door. He leaned his rifle against the wall and shook his head, curls flinging melted snow over the dusty floor, then bent over to examine the pictures. Most of them didn't have you and he began to worry he was in the wrong house after all, but then he saw it: at the very top was a picture of four people, all wearing summer clothes and Mickey Mouse ears with the Cinderella castle in the background. A middle aged man and woman bookended a young man, lean but muscular with his arm draped around your shoulders.

You were younger, maybe still in high school, and your hair was longer and lighter, but he would recognize that smile anywhere.

He carefully plucked the photo from the fridge and brought it closer, his eyes raking over every detail of the picture, from the brightness in your eyes to the cotton candy pink sky behind you.

You looked so happy.

Nothing like the way you looked when he last saw you: broken and bruised. Ruined and dejected. Because of him.

You spared my life just to break my heart.

He blinked and pocketed the photo before turning around. The living room was in worse condition. It appeared someone must have stayed there at one point because the couches were shifted around, an armchair wedged in front of the door, cushions flung around haphazardly.

He had to move furniture out of the way, dig around a bit through broken bookshelves, but he managed to finally unearth an old photo album. Resting on one of the couch cushions with a huff, he took a few moments to flip through it, smiling now and then when he saw an especially cute picture of you. The wind outside was howling so loudly, the old house creaking with every gust that he couldn't hear when footsteps slowly crept up behind him and knocked him unconscious with the butt of his own rifle.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He knew better. He should have scoped out the inside of the house before getting distracted. But he was too excited and too eager to get what he came for that he forgot his own rules. And he took for granted the snowstorm would hide his tracks.

Now he was hunched over on the living room floor, leaning against the wall with his wrists tied behind his back while five raiders went through his things.

"Hey man, don't you like peaches?"

"Fuck yeah I do, give it here."

Joel groaned, the back of his head throbbing, thick, sticky blood slowly trickling down the back of his neck.

"He's waking up."

"Hey, princess, how's the head?" one said with a sinister laugh. Joel ignored him.

"You got some nice shit. Wanna tell us where your camp is?"

Joel opened his eyes and glared at the man in front of him, wearing a leather jacket and leather gloves and a black bandana pulling his dark, wiry hair off his scarred face.

"Fuck you."

The punch came fast and hard across his jaw, making him see stars for a moment. The other men chuckled and got back to dividing up his things.

"You wanna try that again?" the first man asked, crouching down in front of him. Joel tugged on the rope holding his wrists together. The knot was tight but it wasn't foolproof. He just needed a little time to loosen it up.

"Don't got a camp."

"Bullshit," the man barked, spitting against the wall next to Joel's head. "Ain't nobody out here with this kinda gear and a goddamn horse roughing it all alone. Now, just tell us the city and we'll take it from there. We'll even let you live."

He heard one of the other men scoff but the rest remained quiet, and if Joel wasn't already convinced they were planning to kill him either way, he definitely was now.

"Boise."

"Boise?" he repeated, and Joel nodded, twisting his hands behind his back, feeling the coarse rope burn against his skin. The man in the leather jacket sighed and hung his head before landing another blow, this time across the mouth. Joel's lower lip got snagged on his teeth and tore. Blood trickled down his chin as he angrily whipped his head back towards the raider.

"I told you what you wanted!"

"You fed me a bunch of bullshit is what you did," he said, kicking Joel in the ribs. He gasped for air, doubled over against the wall, coughing and spraying blood across the faded floral wallpaper. He wondered if your parents did the wallpaper themselves, if your mom picked it out, or did the house already come like that?

Joel tugged harder on the rope, feeling it start to give. He needed to stay focused. He needed to make every move count if he wanted to get out of this alive.

The raider pulled a revolver from the back of his pants - Joel's revolver - and flipped it over in his hands. Back and forth, back and forth. Then he leaned forward and pressed the barrel against Joel's forehead.

"I'll give you one more chance, asshole," he said, his dark eyes boring into Joel's, "tell us where your camp is or else I shoot you in the fucking head."

"What the hell was he doing here anyway?"

"Shut up, Mike," the guy in the leather growled, eyes still trained on Joel.

"No, but seriously. There's nothing in this house worth taking. We've been through this neighborhood months ago."

The raider's eyes flickered around the room and Joel tugged harder on his restraints when he looked away. Then the man spotted the photo album lying face down on the ground.

"What's this?" he asked, lowering the gun and picking up the album. He began to flip through it and Joel felt the rope finally give. The raider let out a low whistle and slid a photo out to look at it closer. "Don't tell me you came out in the middle of a storm just to find something to jack off to," he teased, holding up a photo of you in a yellow bikini by a pool. He flipped the picture back around and grinned. When he went to stuff it in his pocket, his attention momentarily diverted, Joel took his opportunity to strike.

In the blink of an eye, he snatched the revolver from the raider's fingers and shot him in the temple, his body immediately falling limply to the side. Wet, sticky blood sprayed all over Joel's hand but he just tightened his grip on the gun, taking aim and bringing down another one of the men while they were still too stunned to move.

"Fuck!" one of the remaining three men screamed as they scrambled for cover. Joel ducked behind the couch and held his breath, straining to hear the scuffling of their boots, trying to pinpoint where they were in the small room. When he heard one of them accidentally knock against the kitchen table, the wooden legs scraping against the linoleum, he straightened up and took aim, taking out another man with a bullet right between the eyes, but unfortunately one of the last two men got a shot in as well.

The bullet grazed against his left bicep. Joel hissed and ducked back behind the couch. He would deal with it later.

"Come on, man, we can work something out," one of the men called out after a minute. "Let's just go our separate ways. Act like this never-"

Joel jumped up and shot the man in the cheek, the bullet traveling through his mouth and out the back of his head, leaving brain matter that looked like globs of gelatin dripping down the kitchen cupboards after he fell lifelessly to the ground.

Joel stepped towards the kitchen, now only one on one. He got cocky. He was feeling too confident with how quickly he took out the group. He didn't even see it coming when the knife lodged into his side, just above his hip. Without thinking, he yanked the knife out, twisted around and jammed it into the final raider's throat, watching as he fell to the floor, choking on his own blood, and didn't look away until he stopped twitching.

Adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he used it to his advantage, his left hand pressing weakly against his wound, the wound in his arm preventing it from being very effective while he searched the dead bodies of the men for anything useful. He had brought some first aid with him when he left Jackson but he was too far from home, he would need antibiotics, at least, if he was going to make it back.

Of course, he came up empty, so he snatched his first aid kit from the table and stumbled down the little hallway, searching for a bathroom. He knew it was a lost cause, the raiders already admitted to clearing the place out months ago, but he had to try.

He flung open the medicine cabinet with a grunt, the pain beginning to set in now. Pressing his bloody fingers against the stab wound as hard as he could, he rummaged around the cabinet, leaving paths of red everywhere his fingers touched, then tried the drawers under the sink.

Nothing.

"Fuck," he muttered, collapsing onto the cool tile floor as he began to sort through his first aid kit. There were no towels left but he was sitting on an old bathmat. He groaned in pain when he lifted his hips to pull the bathmat out, shook out the dust and dirt, then pressed it against his side, bringing his knee up to hold it in place.

With trembling fingers, he threaded a needle. He wiped the blood from his hands on his shirt, but they were stained red. Ripping open his jacket and flannel, he lifted the two other layers he had on underneath and lowered his leg to get a look at the wound.

It was deep and he was losing a lot of blood, but he was fairly certain the knife wasn't long enough to knick any organs. His stomach wasn't swelling, that was a good sign.

He only had a small bottle of antiseptic, so he used most of it to clean the wound and then the needle, saving a little bit to use on his arm later.

He took several quick breaths in, hyping himself up, then paused when he first shoved the needle through his skin. Tears sprung up, blurring his vision, but he blinked them away.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

In and out, in and out, he slowly stitched himself up. The angle was awkward and the stitches were ugly, but it got the job done: the bleeding stopped. His heart was hammering in his chest, sweat poured from the sides of his head, mixing with all the blood drying on his face and beard. He slumped to the ground with a pained groan, lying flat on the floor in a pool of his own blood, staring up at the ceiling. He just needed a moment to rest, a moment to catch his breath and then he would go.

Would he ever see you again? Would you ever even know why he came out there? Would you always wonder what happened to him? You told him you cared about him, but was that even true anymore? After what he did?

"C'mon, baby, gimme a sign," he whispered to himself, "gimme a sign that I still got a chance in hell 'cause if I don't, I'm not sure I got the strength to make it home." Tears welled up in his eyes again and this time he let them fall. He sniffled and waited. For what, he wasn't sure. Divine intervention? Genius to strike? A brilliant idea to form? But all he heard was the blowing wind outside.

The tile felt so cool against his burning hot skin. A small voice in the back of his head told him the longer he stayed there the weaker he would become, but he was just so tired. He rolled his head to the side, his eyes about to slide shut when he saw it: a dusty, opaque orange bottle rolled all the way against the wall underneath the sink.

Blinking a few times, he wondered if he was imagining it.

He wasn't.

Stretching his arm out, he slowly reached underneath the vanity and pulled out the half empty bottle. Holding it above his face, he squinted at the letters on the faded sticker.

Penicillin. Use as directed by your dentist.

His breath caught in his throat when he read your name on the label.

He finally got his sign.

"What happens when we die?"

"What?"

You rolled over onto your side to face him, wrapping your arm around his waist. He looked so peaceful, lying in bed like that. His eyes closed, face relaxed. You repeated your question.

"Don't know," he said, cracking open one eye to look at you. "Haven't died yet."

You giggled and he smiled, pulling you closer. He smelled so good. Like the rain and sex and smoke from the fire.

"I mean... do you think there's a heaven?"

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, his fingers lightly trailing up and down your bare arm.

"Yeah, I do."

You swallowed nervously and drew invisible circles into his skin, making him shiver.

"Do you think..." you trailed off and he froze, picking up on your tone.

"What, darlin'?"

"Do you think we'll make it? To heaven, I mean?"

His eyebrows pinched together. "Why wouldn't we?"

"You know why," you replied softly, "we've done bad things, Joel."

"Yeah, but we ain't bad people," he reminded you, then rolled over, pushing you onto your back so his arms caged you in. One knee slotted between yours and you spread your legs, hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he said, dipping his chin down and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You sighed, your shoulders finally relaxing. "Besides, this is heaven right here," he murmured against your mouth, feeling you smile.

"Ain't nothin' better than this."

You awoke with a gasp, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest. That was the first time you had a dream about Joel, and something about it made you uneasy.

You had slept in his bed the entire week, wrapped in his clothes, and today was the day you had expected him to come home. Shrugging off the dream to no more than your subconscious fixated on his return, you forced yourself to get out of bed, fixing the sheets so it wouldn't look like you had been sleeping there and then headed to your room to change and freshen up.

The past couple days you had secretly hoped he would come back sooner but you refused to let it show. If Ellie or Dina or Maria asked you about it, you played it cool, or at least you thought you did. But every night you stayed up as late as you could, curled up on the couch all alone, waiting. Every time someone walked by, your body stiffened and your pulse raced, expecting to hear his heavy footsteps walking up the porch, but they never came.

But today was the day. The seventh day. His note said a week, and you knew if Joel was alive, he would stick to his word.

His absence afforded you a lot of time to think. Time you didn't realize you desperately needed, and now that you were able to process everything clearly without his overwhelming presence muddying the waters, you felt confident you knew what you wanted now.

All day at work, you were distracted. Nick had to call your name repeatedly to get your attention on more than one occasion, and by the fifth time you felt guilty. He didn't say anything, though. He understood. By then, most of the town knew Joel had left. Word spread like wildfire, especially once the storm passed through. It didn't take a genius to figure out how difficult it would be to survive all alone in those conditions.

Then the rumors started.

You tried to ignore them, but it was hard. When people began drinking and getting loud in the dining hall, it was impossible not to hear.

When you heard a man claim he saw Joel's horse frozen in a river during patrol, you stopped going to the dining hall to eat.

It was dark, it was just a deer, Tommy had told you later after he went out to the river to check, but it still shook you up.

When the sun set on Jackson on the seventh day and Joel still hadn't returned, the fear began to take hold. Your stomach churned, making it impossible to eat the following morning. You had hardly slept, the bags under your eyes dark and heavy. Nick begged you to take the day off but you insisted you needed to stay busy, although it didn't help much. On your lunch break you tried to casually walk by the main gate, the one near the stables, hoping to catch a glimpse of him returning, but you had no such luck.

So you went back to work. You kept your hands busy, tried to keep your mind occupied, but it was impossible.

I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you.

You couldn't get those words out of your head. The guilt was weighing you down as you grew worried that was going to be one of the last things he ever said to you.

"Went on a date the other night."

"With who?"

"Cindy, from the kitchen."

Ricky laughed heartily and Andrew smacked his shoulder with the back of his hand.

"Shut up, man. We're on watch, we can't be giving ourselves away."

"It's the middle of the goddamn night and we haven't seen any infected in weeks. It's too cold for them, they're all frozen somewhere waiting to thaw in the spring," Ricky said, shouldering his rifle.

"Yeah, but still. You never know. There's more than just infected out there."

Ricky chuckled and shook his head. "Tommy telling you ghost stories again?"

"Raiders ain't ghost stories, asshole," Andrew shot back.

"And raiders never make it this far up the mountains, asshole," Ricky replied, mocking Andrew's tone.

Andrew grumbled under his breath and strolled away from the tower, towards the gate, his eyes scanning the treeline. He couldn't see a damn thing. It was pitch black and deathly quiet.

He turned on his heel and began the slow walk back towards the tower where he could see Ricky unwrapping a granola bar and pulling a paperback book from his back pocket.

Just as he was about to chastise him for letting his guard down, he heard twigs snapping in the woods. He whipped around, bringing his rifle up so he could get a better look with his scope.

"What the hell was that?" Ricky's whisper materialized in his ear.

"Dunno. Something's out there."

Ricky lifted his own rifle and scanned the trees as well, both of them holding their breath, waiting for another noise.

"Maybe-"

Then they heard more twigs snapping and pine trees raking against fabric. Louder this time.

"Fuck," Ricky muttered nervously, his palms growing sweaty inside his gloves.

"There," Andrew said lowly, and Ricky followed his aim. Something was approaching in the dark. Something big.

"I got it."

"No, just wait a second," Andrew said, squinting through the scope. Then his jaw went slack when he realized what it was.

"It's a horse."

"What?"

"It's a fucking horse, bro," Andrew repeated, his voice rising a little.

When it finally emerged from the forest, they saw the rider slumped over, covered in snow, their face buried in the horse's mane.

"Holy shit," Andrew said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and racing towards the ladder. "Radio Tommy!"

"W-what do I say?" Ricky stammered, fumbling with the radio dial.

"Tell him it's Joel!"

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[selenitesdawn]

Temperance (Wanda's Version)

pairing: wanda maximoff x female!reader plot: Wanda didn't choose to fall for the girl her boyfriend used to bully in high school. But she did. And if there is one thing Wanda Maximoff is known for, it is always getting what she wants. No matter how. warnings: 18+ !! minors dni. wanda is with vision, cheating, stalking and heavy (mind)manipulation, possessive wanda, power-imbalance, dom!wanda, sub!reader, sexual content word count: 2700 a/n: this can be read as a one shot. however, here is the story from the reader's perspective: Temperance Masterlist

At first, it started innocent. As most things do. Sometimes a small puff of air is enough to trigger a whole tornado. And that was exactly the case for Wanda. It wasn't planned that things would turn out the way they did in the end. But let’s start at the very beginning.

Wanda had been in a more or less happy relationship with Vision for about six months when she found out about you. Vision's oldest friends Steve and Bucky were visiting when the conversation turned to what would change everything.

“Remember that one hot chick from highschool?,” Bucky had asked back then.

Wanda entered the living room just at the right time, serving drinks and snacks for the guests. After handing her home made lemonade to everyone, she sat herself down next to Vision, observing the conversation carefully. 

“Natasha Romanoff?,” Vision replied smugly, earning a side-eye from Wanda.

“How could I forget. I asked her out and after one date she said i’m too obsessed with my ex,” Steve remembered, before getting interrupted by Bucky.

“Which you still are-,”

Steve lightly hit Bucky’s arm who laughed in response.

“Heads up buddy, at least you didn’t embarrass yourself like y/n did,” Bucky tried cheering up his friend.

The memory made Vision laugh wholeheartedly, slapping his own leg as if Bucky had just cracked the funniest joke ever. Steve however didn’t seem amused, nipping at his glass.

“That’s still the one of the nastiest things you’ve ever done Vision. At least in high school,” Steve noted, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“What did you do?,” Wanda chimed in, her curiosity too great to stay silent.

Vision quickly collected himself, noticing the seriousness in Wanda’s tone, “Oh it was nothing, just read this strange poem she wrote about Natasha but-“

“Out loud. In class. After stealing y/n’s notebook from her backpack,” Steve added quickly.

“Vision what the fuck, why would you do that?,” Wanda questioned horrified, her face a mixture of upset and disgust.

She knew Vision wasn't perfect, but he was a good partner all things considered. However, they never really talked about his teenage years before, so hearing how her boyfriend behaved back then really bugged Wanda in a way she didn't expect. Vision on the other hand tried to play it down.

“Relax babe, it was just a joke. Besides, y/n wouldn’t have had a chance with Natasha anyway. I mean, she turned down Steve,“ he tried to justify his actions, pointing to Steve who looked almost as disappointed as Wanda did. 

“I can’t believe you would do something like that,“ Wanda mumbled frustrated.

“Chill Wanda, that was in high school,” Bucky rattled in, trying to defend Vision’s actions. 

“Well, he did do something similar in college so-,“ Steve started saying before Vision firmly stopped him.

“Shut up Steve.” 

That night Wanda felt like she was lying next to a stranger. Had Vision been a bully before she knew him? Did he have a side that she didn't know of? And what else had he done to you? She wanted answers, but of course she couldn't get them from Vision. But she was desperate for answers. And then it happened again. Wanda never did it on purpose. Sometimes one thing just lead to another. And that’s when she saw you in her mind's eye. How you stood crying in a corner of the schoolyard and how Vision ran after you to take pleasure in your suffering. How he cheekily laughed in your face. The pictures in her mind were vivid, like they were happening right in that moment. 

Wanda couldn’t sleep after what she saw, so she decided to get up and search for Vision’s yearbook. It didn’t take long to find you, the photo of you matching with the flashback she had. Her thumb softly brushed over the image of you, as she stared at your younger self. Then, a switch turned inside Wanda. You looked so innocent. So beautiful. How could Vision treat you like that? While browsing through other images in the yearbook, she saw you standing next to Kate Bishop in a bunch of photos. Wanda remembered Kate. They had met some time ago and back then they exchanged their Instagram accounts.

Wanda could have stopped right there. She knew what Vision did and she knew whom he did it to. But for some reason she couldn’t. So instead of leaving things as they are, she went on Instagram, searching through Kate’s account. Not surprisingly, she quickly found yours. You have only gotten more beautiful since high school, Wanda thought to herself as she explored each and every one of your posts, highlights and tagged images. 

At the beginning she thought that the feelings she had for you were merely compassion. Born from the fact that she felt sorry for what Vision did to you. Then, slowly but surely, the compassion started turning into admiration. The next days she caught herself searching for your other social media. And then she spent more and more time finding out anything about you that was accessible to her. Where you live, where you work, where you study. That’s when Wanda had to admit to herself, that something was brewing. At least partly.

It’s just an innocent crush.

Wanda thought. But over time, the quiet admiration grew roots, spreading relentlessly, taking up more of her thoughts than she was willing to admit. Looking at pictures of you wasn’t enough anymore. She needed to see you. The first time she went to the bakery you were working at, she couldn’t find you. The second time, she only caught a glimpse of you working in the back. The third time, you seemed to have a day off again. Wanda almost stopped at this point, feeling weird about her own behavior. But then, a few days later, Kate posted a selfie with you in her Instagram story. Seeing your face once again reignited a fire inside her that she was almost able to extinguish. But how could she stop obsessing over you when you looked so pretty? 

The fourth time Wanda went to your work place, she finally saw you standing behind the counter as she peeked through the window. You were smiling tiredly as you served a customer, your eyes revealing that you hadn’t slept a lot lately. Wanda thought you looked as precious as ever. Like you belonged in a museum, protected from the ugliness of the world. But then, she froze. What was she even supposed to say to you? There is only a single chance for a first impression. And Wanda wanted it to be perfect. You couldn’t find out that it’s a set up. So, she needed to be smart about it.

What if I just bring her to me? 

As the night approached Wanda checked your Instagram again and saw that you posted a story. A donation link for animals in war zones. Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. She remembered how her younger self would be so compassionate about the street dogs in Sokovia and the helplessness she felt from watching them starve on the streets. Now she technically had enough resources to do something good for them. And that’s how Wanda approached Vision, suggesting a trip to Sokovia for a good cause. Vision wasn’t exactly obsessed with the idea but after his dad suggested renting a mansion, and Wanda suggested taking Steve and Bucky on the trip, he was sold. A few days passed until Wanda made her next move, not wanting her plans to be too obvious.

During dinner, Wanda brought up the question she’s been holding back ever since the trip was decided. “Wouldn’t it be nice to invite Kate and her best friend? This one girl you talked about? What was her name again….? y/n?”

Vision who was busy pushing around the peas on his plate, looked up with a grin. For a moment there was utter silence, until Vision started laughing. Wanda however, wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m serious Vision.”

Vision’s laughter stopped, his eyebrows now furrowed. “You’re joking. You don’t even know them.”

Wanda tried to stay calm, her next words precisely calculated. “That’s not true, I met Kate at your birthday party in May. She even told me about this-,” Wanda tilted her head, as if she had to think about it “,-golden retriever she fostered. And she was nice. Besides, I can’t deal with this much testosterone on my own.”

Vision rubbed his eyes, considering Wanda’s suggestion carefully.

“Okay. Kate it is. Fine. But why the fuck would I invite y/n?,” he asked annoyed. But Wanda had expected something like this.

“Well, you have to make up for something, don’t you think?,” she replied confidently.

Vision’s eyes widened, then he laughed again, “There's nothing to make up for Wanda. Besides, why would working without getting any money from it be something desirable.”

Wanda’s demeanor changed quickly, Vision’s reaction seemingly triggering something within her. “I know it’s hard to grasp for your tiny little brain but some people actually enjoy doing something good and meanwhile living in a fucking mansion for three months.”

Then there was silence. The tension in the air was suffocating, as the two of them just stared each other down, both not willing to step back.

“I would rather choke than ask her to join. And how do you even know that Kate and y/n are friends?,” Vision spat out. But Wanda knew what she wanted. And she wasn’t playing around.

“I’m serious Vision. Invite her,” Wanda commanded darkly.

“You can’t just tell me what to do Wanda,” Vision retorted, his tone provocative. 

“Can’t I?,” Wanda hinted with a slight smirk, her head tilting to the side. For a moment time seemed frozen, Vision’s gaze becoming emptier as Wanda’s gaze burned into his soul. Then, Vision seemed to snap back into reality.

“Fine. I’ll invite Kate and tell her that she can bring y/n,” he finally announced, before returning his attention to the peas on his plate.

“Good.”

Soon enough, the first day of the trip finally arrived and the first official meeting  between Wanda and you took place at the airport. To her pleasant surprise, Wanda quickly realized that she had a certain effect on you. She was able to trigger something deep within you, without even actively trying. She only had to look at you a little longer than necessary, which wasn’t intentional but the simple result of weeks of anticipation from Wanda’s side. That was enough to fill a hole inside you that you weren’t even aware of. But Wanda was aware of it. She saw it in your eyes. And she felt it in the back of her mind.

It's not that she thought you were weak or naive. She just immediately understood that you had a weak spot for her. And that set something inside Wanda in motion. Suddenly her hidden desires didn’t seem far from reachable anymore. 

That same night she had sex with Vision in the room next to you, banging against the wall although there was no need to do so. Faking rough, loud moans although she wasn’t feeling satisfied. But you were supposed to hear it. And while you laid in bed, covering your ears so you wouldn’t freak out, your pretty little thoughts were so loud that it was enough to get her off.

At first she felt a sense of satisfaction from making you nervous. How you sheepishly tried to hide the blush spreading across your face whenever she smiled at you. It didn’t take long until she caught herself acting a certain way in front of you. Sometimes that meant swaying her hips a little more when you were walking behind her. Sometimes she would play with her rings when you were staring at her hands again. Then, one day, she innocently put her hand on your leg under the kitchen table. Just for a quick moment really. But it was long enough for you to slightly squirm under her touch. You thought Wanda couldn’t have possibly noticed. But of course she did. Suddenly it wasn't enough anymore to simply have you wrapped around her finger. She wanted to have you. To own you.

It was all about seduction at this point. Wanda gave you too little to feel hopeful but just enough so you would keep yearning for her. Her hands always somehow found their way to your body but disappeared just as quickly, leaving you confused and unsatisfied. After studying you all this time, she understood how to push your buttons. How to make you addicted to the feeling Wanda gave you. 

She wasn’t certain about how long she would be able to keep this play up. But the decision was made for her the day you drove to the shelter together. Wanda just wanted to trigger you a little. She knew how nervous you felt around her, so sitting in a fairly small space together without a way out was the perfect opportunity to fog up your pretty little brain a bit more. 

“Babe, I think I want to drive the Lambo today and give y/n a ride. Please?,” Wanda asked innocently, looking up at Vision with a smile, her arm wrapped around his bicep.

“Keep on dreaming, no one’s going to sit their ass down on the passenger seat, apart from me and you, Wanda,” Vision laughed, his tone patronizing.

In a heartbeat, Wanda’s demeanor shifted, her head tilting sideways as her eyes turned to a darker shade, “No Vision. Try again.”

Once again, time seemed to freeze. The others, including you, were just standing there with empty gazes as Wanda stared Vision down. Vision’s gaze drifted towards you, like he was searching for… help? But that is not what happened in your memory, is it?

“Um…,” Vision started saying, his mouth staying slightly agape as his eyes widened. Then, like nothing happened, his face went back to normal, “…sure.”

As you and Wanda sat in the car, Wanda bathed in the sheer enjoyment of overwhelming you. Your inability to say something, probably scared that Wanda would think you’re weird. When you finally spoke up in the middle of the car ride and wanted to learn more about Wanda, the redhead was almost unable to contain her excitement. She felt proud of you for conquering your fears but at the same time she feared for her own composure. 

So, on the way back, she didn’t ask you to ride with her again. And as she stepped into the car, she saw your bottom lip trembling slightly. She saw your sad face, your teary eyes. And she saw your exhaustion. That’s when Wanda realized that you couldn’t deal with this situation much longer. Back at your residence, when Kate had to carry you out the car as you were unable to walk to bed, Wanda made a decision. It was time to quit the act and get what’s hers. 

The next morning, she wasted no time. Wanda told the others that you’d deserve a day off and that she would make sure that you’re resting well. It didn’t take long after you woke up until her body was pushed against yours, your arousal dripping from your core as Wanda’s hand made its way to your most sensitive spot. After a short interruption from Vision who called out for Wanda to say goodbye, every boundary that had separated you and Wanda began to vanish. All the anticipation from the last weeks melted as she was finally able to get her hands on you without restrictions, owning every inch of you. After all the patience she had, she earned this moment. But the best part was finally hearing the words she had so desperately waited for. 

 “I belong to you, Wanda.” 

As the words left your mouth, electricity raced through Wanda’s entire body. The one thing she was craving, mostly unconsciously, was finally hers. You were hers.

Wanda didn’t plan things to go that way. At least, for the most part. It wasn’t her fault though, was it? What else could she do? She needed you. Even more than you needed her. And if there is one thing that is certain about Wanda; it’s that she always gets what she wants. One way, or another. 

[jinnie-ret]

scarred knees and insecurities

Stray Kids x Ninth Member!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content warnings: insecurities, heat exhaustion, mean online comments

word count: 2.7k

summary: when the old scars from your youth, become fresh wounds in your adulthood, the boys are there to pick up the pieces.

100 followers special!!! Thank you so much for all your support so far, I hope you enjoy this imagine! I personally share this same insecurity and although I have played it up more for this imagine, I hope that nothing said will offend anyone, I've just written it from my perspective.

As always, asks are open! Let me know what you want to read next! Enjoy! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Annyeong, Stay!" Y/N greeted the fans as she started streaming on YouTube. She was currently in one of the practice rooms at JYP, ready to dance for stays as she normally did when she went live. She was relaxed in some casual clothes, a big t-shirt and some shorts too.

"What song shall I dance to first?" Y/N grinned at the camera as she read the comments.

"Oh- who said WAP?!" Y/N laughed and shook her head, "Stays you can't be talking like that!"

She got up and started dancing, not to WAP, but to their new song Social Path. Anyways, they weren't allowed to play music outside of their company anymore, so it only felt right.

Finishing the dance, Y/N panted lightly, crouched over with her hands on her knees. As she took a sip of water, sat with her knees bent in front of the camera, certain comments started catching her eyes, no matter how much she tried to act normal and answer questions.

What's wrong with her knees

Ew but why do they look like that

Their knees look so old and wrinkly

Y/N needs to get that checked out it looks so unnatural

Just another reason why she's ugly

Of course, there were actual questions, with Stays giving song recommendations and asking Y/N about what she had been doing recently, but she couldn't help but catch sight of the mean comments. She shifted her body so that her knees were off screen, maybe then the harsh words would lessen.

Look, she's hiding them because she's realised how disgusting she is

Disgusting?

Y/N bit her lip and cleared her throat, but decided she didn't want to force herself to sit there in front of millions of fans when she was trying not to let her thoughts spiral.

"I'm feeling kinda tired guys so I'm going to end the live now, bye!" Y/N blew a kiss like always at the camera and sighed as she ended the live.

She had thought about it a couple of times, she wasn't all too fond of the way her knees looked either. But it always felt different and hurt more when someone else points out your insecurities. Her knees had visible scars on them from how clumsy she was as a child. You could see them stick out yet they were healed over and so had blended in with her skin tone. The other thing was that often she'd find after kneeling down or having pressure on her knees, there'd be a redness or slight colour change to them.

Absentmindedly scratching over the bumps of her scars, Y/N looked up when she heard a slight tap on the door.

It was Hyunjin.

"Why did you end your live early? I was enjoying watching you dance," he pouted at her, clearly in a playful mood as he flopped down beside her in the practice room.

"Don't know, guess I just felt tired," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't tired really, just currently feeling low in her mood.

She jolted as he put his head in her lap, in attempt to look up at her face.

"You're acting all quiet, Y/Nnie," Hyunjin commented, hand stroking her knee comfortingly as he knew this was one of her tells when she wasn't feeling too happy.

Yet this action didn't have the same effect as normal. Y/N moved his hand off of her legs and did a fake shiver.

"It's cold in here..." Y/N rubbed her bare legs, hiding her knees before standing once Hyunjin had removed himself from her.

"I've got some spare clothes, it's in my bag in the other room, come on," Hyunjin patted her on the head gently, before resting his hand against her back as he guided her out of the room.

He wasn't silly. He could tell that Y/N wasn't quite feeling herself at the moment, and the best thing him or any of the other boys could do was treat her gently, that's what she always needed when it came to things like this.

A few days later, Stray Kids were set to do a photoshoot on the beach, perfect for a hot day. Well, as long as they didn't get too hot...

Y/N scanned the clothes that were on the rack in the dressing room with her stylist. She smiled as she caught sight of a beautiful white and blue dress, it fitting their cute casual concept perfectly.

"Oh, Y/N we won't be needing that one today, we've got a better option instead," the stylist fanned her own face, feeling the heat too as she passed over a small pile of clothes to Y/N. It consisted of a heavy pair of jeans, alongside a baby tee with a cute graphic of a heart on it. Now that, she could get behind, she thought the tee was adorable, but the heavy jeans? It was such a hot day.

"But everyone else is wearing shorts, wouldn't it be better if I did too-" Y/N began, before the stylist sympathetically patted her hand, yet it came across as being more condescending than anything.

"Honey, we're just doing what the fans will like best, like wearing jeans instead of anything more revealing, you know, because of your knees," she said, before turning around and sorting through other clothes so that Y/N could change.

What she hated the most was how the stylist's words trailed off into a whisper, like she was ashamed, like Y/N should be ashamed of her body. The company were aware of the comments that had been made online, and just after Y/N was building herself back up and ignoring the thing she can't change, this happened.

Dejectedly, she put on her assigned outfit, and left to head outside in the sweltering heat to join the boys.

"Y/Nnie come stand with me!" Felix dragged her next to him happily. The boys had noticed her mood get better the past few days but being the sunshine he is, he noticed that she was once again in the same low mindset.

"Y/N, aren't you... too hot in that?" Changbin rested a hand on her shoulder as he looked at the heavy jeans she was wearing, fabric slumped over at the top of her trainers.

"No, no, this is fine, it was picked especially for me," Y/N lightly smiled, trying to paint her face to seem content when really she was already sweating, causing a makeup artist to run over and quickly powder her face. Y/N couldn't hide the slight truth in her words, and she was silly to think the small bitterness didn't come through in her tone.

"Okay, just be careful, it's too hot to be wearing those, seriously..." Changbin nodded before returning to where he was previously stood, clearly not happy with the situation his younger member had been put in.

Felix side hugged her before they did their group photos first, the others expressing their confusion for the clothes she was wearing.

"Y/N! You must be so hot!" Han audibly gasped, and all she could do was shrug at him, not really having the words to respond, feeling too hot and overwhelmed at the moment to really think.

"Solo photos now!" the director called out, and one by one they posed, Y/N being the last one to head up, as they were going in age order. As Jeongin stepped up for his turn, Y/N scanned around her for some water she could have, seeing black spots enter her vision slowly.

"Here. Drink, or you'll be too tired to even stand," Seungmin appeared with a bottle of water in front of her, sarcasm coming across through his words as he didn't seem to realise how bad she really was feeling, and that she was too tired to stand.

"Thanks, Seungminnie," she mumbled, drinking it quickly as he nodded and walked away, going to change out of his clothes.

"Yah, you'll choke if you keep this up," Lee Know took the bottle from her hands as he crouched down next to her.

"Just thirsty," Y/N fanned herself as she leant back in her chair.

"You sure that's it? Looks like something else is going on too," Lee Know took one of her hands gently, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.

"Y/Nnie it's your turn!" Jeongin happily walked over, informing his fellow member yet taking away the chance of gaining more information from his other.

Lee Know sighed as Y/N stood up, standing at the beach bar setup first.

Her movements were slow, yet she was sure it looked casual enough to not seem like she was on the verge of wanting to collapse from the heat. Little did she know, a certain leader had been diligently watching her the whole time. He had inquired about the outfit to the stylists and was annoyed when they said Y/N picked it herself. He knew that wasn't the truth.

"Y/N, turn your head to the left a bit! To the left, turn your head to the left," the director frustratedly said through the megaphone, catching the attention of all the members who were now watching.

But Y/N couldn't really hear what was happening around her. She was more focused on trying to stand up straight right now, panting lightly as she did so.

"The director is being a bit harsh..." Hyunjin whispered to Jeongin, who nodded back in response.

"But she's not acting herself either, look," Jeongin nodded towards the girl, who couldn't seem to keep her head up straight.

"Channie hyung, something is wrong with Y/Nnie," Felix said to his fellow Australian member, frowning as he watched the girl.

"I know. As soon as she's done with her photos I'm going to ask-" Chan turned his head away for one second as he spoke to Felix.

One second.

One second he stopped watching over her, and now she was on her knees, leant against the fake bar as she pulled at the collar of her t-shirt for some air.

Gasps rang out from around the room as both Stray Kids and the staff rushed to help Y/N.

"I knew there was something wrong," Chan shook his head as he started patting Y/N's face with a wet towel provided by the staff.

"Y/N, can you hear us?" Changbin hovered around them, concerned at the state she was in.

It all sounded so muffled to Y/N. She had felt that she had been moved into a position where she was laying down, felt slight relief from the cooler feeling on her face, but her eyes were still resting shut. She managed to let out a groan in response, which offered a light sense of peace before they realised they needed to do more.

"We need to get her inside in an air conditioned room or something!" Chan commanded the staff, as he lifted her up after they nodded and he laid her down on a sofa, the other members following through.

"She needs to get out of these jeans, who's big idea was that?" Seungmin huffed, irritated.

"Let me," a female staff member gestured for the boys to turn away as she and another stylist quickly changed Y/N out of her jeans and into some shorts, letting the boys know they could turn around once more.

They had a fan pointed at Y/N as they tried to get her to sip from some water.

"Come on, Y/Nnie, just slow sips, yeah?" Hyunjin held the bottle with a straw to Y/N's face, a hand under her chin tilting her head ever so slightly so water wouldn't spill down her.

Lee Know tied her hair back, soothingly stroking it back before he gathered it all out of the way.

Y/N's eyes opened wide, feeling a bit better as she had cooled down now. But she saw that her knees were exposed and being in the vulnerable state she was, she grabbed a blanket and covered her knees, her mind going 100 mph and all it could think was that the boys thought she was disgusting.

"No, you don't need a blanket, Y/Nnie, you're too hot right now, that won't help," Han grabbed her hands and held them against her stomach lightly, feeling concerned when her eyes became glossy with tears.

Y/N shook her head, not yet finding the words to explain what she was feeling.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Chan's voice broke through all of her thoughts, the oldest member being someone she could always rely on.

"They're ugly," she mumbled, eyes darting back and forth between her legs and Han's hands holding onto her own.

"What are?" Felix asked confused, looking back and forth between the boys as they all seemed to be catching onto why you had been feeling a bit low the last couple of days.

"My knees. Got scars on them. They're disgusting. Don't want you to have to see them," Y/N rushed out, feeling the grip round her hands tighten ever so slightly and a hand brush through her hair soothingly.

"Now why would you say something so stupid?" Lee Know sighed, hating how she was thinking.

"Don't call her stupid," Hyunjin whacked Lee Know on the shoulder.

"It's fine, it's silly really. B-but Stays didn't like it so why would you?" Y/N bit her lip, still unable to make eye contact with the boys.

"Y/Nnie, look at me," Chan sat in front of her, and reluctantly she looked at their leader. "Is this why you were put in that outfit?" his tone dropped lower, despising how one of his members had been put in such a position for something out of their control.

"The company agreed too... I didn't want to wear it but I guess it was for the best..." Y/N said unsurely, not really knowing how to explain the situation.

"Not when you nearly passed out from the heat!" Changbin exclaimed.

"Y/N, there is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing about you is disgusting. They're just from when you were a kid, right? You can't control that," Chan said softly as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

"I just hate how they look and then when Stays started pointing it out it made me remember how much I hate them," Y/N frowned and looked at her knees distastefully.

"They're not real Stays if they're making horrible comments like that," Seungmin pointed out, as the rest of the boys nodded in agreement.

"Plus if people are always staring at your knees, that's kind of weird," Jeongin laughed, which brought a smile to Y/N's face.

"I guess so," Y/N nodded, the grin still there.

"Aw there's that smile," Changbin cooed, squishing her cheeks together.

"Hyung, she's not a baby," Han laughed at Changbin's antics.

"But, Y/N, just know, it's okay to have insecurities, we all have them, it doesn't make you weird or mean that there is something wrong with you. But this is not the way things should have happened, please talk to us next time. I know it was the company that decided for you today, and trust me, I will be having words with them about this... but please don't obsess over this, yeah?" Chan hugged her to him, resting his head on hers as he talked to her, wanting her to know that they were a safe space for her.

"Okay, okay, I'll try," Y/N nodded as she relaxed against Chan.

"Good. And just know, whatever type of scars you have, it doesn't define you, and they're certainly not ugly. Everyone has some, whether they're visible or not," Changbin patted her knee, being slightly more serious in contrast to him babying her ten seconds ago.

"Woah, hyung, that was deep," Hyunjin clapped.

"Our Changbinnie is so good," Han said in a high pitched voice, causing the older member of 3RACHA to jokingly raise his fist at his dongsaeng.

"Thanks guys, I mean it," Y/N said sincerely with a relaxed smile to the rest of the boys who weren't caught up in the chaos. Let's be honest, it wouldn't be Stray Kids without any chaos, it just wouldn't be right.

[polarisjisung]

MAKEUP, MAKE OUT

synopsis: somewhere between testing eyeshadow palettes and mascara wands, renjun tests the prospect of loving you

wc: 1k

pairings: best friend!renjun × fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none (I hope)

notes: not proofread so there's bound to be some typos

As renjun finds you positioned between his legs, tapping a light brown shade of shimmer over his eyelids, he can't help but wonder how he'd explain the situation should anybody walk in.

How could he explain the fact that his best friend was quite literally seated on his bed straddling him, so close that from any other perspective you'd look at least half way into a heated makeout session, perhaps something more.

Your hot breath fanning his neck, and his own two eyes helplessly trailing over your soft features, he couldn't bring himself to look away. Each and every time he'd find his gaze falling upon your lips, a deep shade of pink. He wanted to kiss you, he realises.

Best friends didn't do that.

Renjun wonders why the thought even comes into mind or why today was the day, despite your countless other attempts at getting him to agree to let you do his makeup, that he'd said yes.

Though he doesn't have to search particularly far for the answer when you tell him to keep still for the nth time

"stay still jun, ugh, nana would've been a much more compliant client"

Renjun could barely stand the thought of you looking jaemin's way, let alone being half as close as you were with him right now, with those long lashes of na jaemin's, that girls would always fawn over, fluttering so prettily in front of you.

"nana huh" he scoffs, great, you're on a nickname basis now

"so moody" you roll your eyes, somehow still smiling down at the boy who wore a frown on his lips, "you're lucky you look pretty" you laugh.

Your laugh is loud, not in an obnoxious sort of way, but in an unapologetically you sort of way, that renjun loved to hear, knowing you opted for softer, quieter and nowhere near as genuine laughs in public. Some part of him glad that this was a laugh only reserved for him.

"you're saying I need makeup to look pretty?" renjun wonders if you can notice the pink creeping up across his face and spreading over his cheeks, hoping you'd think it was simply the blush you had applied a little earlier.

"of course not, I think you're the prettiest right when you wake up" you don't mean to let it slip, a small piece of information you would've liked to think he could have lived without knowing, softly patting the powder against his skin.

"well I think you're pretty all the time" his lips turn upwards slightly, his hands finding your waist "my pretty girl"

you barely seem to notice as he whispers under his breath, too focused on deciding which lips colour would suit him best, the slight crinkle of your brows no less than adorable

Like every best friend had, he'd thought of the possibility of more, with great consideration.

He'd thought about how walking around with your fingers intertwined rather than an arm lazily thrown over your shoulder might've felt, how introducing you as his girlfriend instead of a girl friend could make his heart leap out of his chest and perhaps most importantly how the thought of seeing you with someone else had him balling up his fists and grinding his own teeth against each other.

He knew he liked you, it hadn't been hard to admit to himself, but somehow it didn't seem so easy with you.

"renjun?" you call for the nth time, "which one do you think is better?" you alternate between the two tubes of liquid lipstick, "one or two?" but yet again, renjun seems to be in his own world, eyes glued onto you and yet somehow he's not listening to you at all.

"jun, you're staring" you wave an arm in front of him

he wonders where he'd given up trying to hide how he felt for you, a lazy smirk lining his lips,

"I am" this time, pulling you closer by the belt loops of your jeans, so your chest is flush against his "my pretty girl"

you hum, reaching for a soft brown lip liner

"what are we?" he asks before you can connect the pencil to his lips, shiny eyes causing your breath to catch in your throat

"best friends"

and for the first time ever, renjun finds himself absolutely loathing the confident tone of your voice. How after all these intimate moments, and far too many not so best friend like thoughts did you not see a thing

"have you ever thought about more?" you're scared to nod, but your head moves faster than you can let out the word no and suddenly it seems honesty is the best policy

"I don't think we've been just best friends for a while now" renjun smiles as the words fall from your lips, music to his ears

"then let me ask you again, what are we?"

"you know what we are jun" your voice is softer than before, an airiness to it that renjun finds himself basking in the warmth of.

"I want— no I need you to say it" his voice has reduced to whispers now, lips centimetres apart

"what if I showed you instead"

his thumb traced over you bottom lip, a soft "okay" muttered under his breath as his hands reached up to cup your face, your lips pressed against his in an instant.

he smiles against your lips, another kiss pressed to your lips before he forces himself back.

"you have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment" he begins to pepper soft kisses across your face, finally leaning in again, this time taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

You wouldn't dare let him pull away, your breaths deep and rushed as you find your fingers tangled in his soft brown hair, strawberry lips perfectly locked with your own.

but when you do take a moment to breathe, your eyes land on a starry-eyed huang renjun staring up at you, looking like the prettiest mess you'd ever seen.

[mr2swap]

I'm going to stay like Jeremy

-What the fuck is wrong with me?! - I looked down at my big cock now flaccid, I assumed that I would finally lose my virginity at last tonight, but why doesn't it want to work?, I closed my eyes and began to imagine Violet the naked girl who was in the other room, Violet Anderson, the sexiest girl in all of high school, found herself willing to have sex with me, or well at least with my best friend Jeremy.

Jeremy is my best friend, the person to whom I can tell anything, and the biggest stud in all of high school, when I told him that I had a lot of problems losing my virginity, he did not hesitate to help me, we are so confident that I do not hesitate to give me a solution to my problem, swap our bodies.

He found a spell on the internet that when said at the same time by two people would make them switch bodies, so one day after school we went to my house when my mother was at work and in my room we both began to say in unison the strange words of a language that I had never heard. our bodies began to transform.

I continued speaking in that strange language while looking at Jeremy's face, slowly his face became mine as well as the rest of his body and when he finished saying the last sentence in front of me there is an exact copy of my body, look down Jeremy's new look, my Asian features, short stature, even longer messy hair were transferred to him, as was his strong jaw, long legs and thick arms full of protruding veins were transferred to me.

-DUDE! this shit if it worked! you look exactly like me!-he looked up at me surprised to see what the rest of us saw in him, a gigantic muscle, her clothes were too big for her now, while mine was squeezing me a little. -Dude, is that how I sound? - I also said testing Jeremy's voice, I could feel how slowly my tank top was ripping, before it completely ripped I took it off, throwing the stretched piece of clothing into a pile of dirty clothes, although I should probably throw it away in the trash when I return to my body.

Jeremy and I had swapped bodies. We took off our clothes, it was fucking strange to see my body from Jeremy's perspective, my body was quite average, somewhat plump, but I didn't look bad, maybe he was right, and I just need more confidence, now I felt better than I ever felt. Stronger, taller, more hot.

I suddenly felt full of energy, every movement in Jeremy's body was so strong and felt so fast that it was difficult to walk with my powerful legs, we both looked at each other in the mirror that was in front of my room and while Jeremy examined his face With his hands I couldn't avoid doing a push-up with my magnificent biceps - Jesus Christ! a couple of inches more and they are the size of your head! - I said putting one of my mountains next to my old head just to compare the sizes.

Jeremy took off his old shirt that was now too big for him and tossed it to me, his shorts fell off on their own, leaving him in just a pair of boxers that were too big for his new body. We were both fully dressed, we came to an agreement. We would change again after I lost my virginity in his body from him, and he had a little fun with some girl to test how it feels to lose my virginity in my body.

Take his things, the keys to his house, his phone and leave him alone at my house to get used to a bit, I was anxious so, so I wasted no minute and unlocked Jeremy's phone to look at his contact list and to my surprise had been texting Violet the sexiest and most popular girl in high school.

He had only spent 20 minutes in Jeremy's handsome body, and he had already found someone to fuck, Flirting when you are taller, muscular and handsome was really simple … but why DOES NOT GET A FUCKING INCH GET UP THIS DICK?

Everything was going so well until we got to the motel, and she started undressing, when I realized that my little friend was not in the mood to get up at all, I pretended to have diarrhea and ran to the hotel bathroom while the hot girl stayed waiting for me in the bed, all the stress began to affect me and my body began to sweat and get hot from humiliation

-What's wrong with me? - I looked in the mirror, it was the face of my best friend Jeremy, now he was handsome, now he was attractive, now he had huge muscles, now he had a huge cock, why? …

Without realizing it now I had a huge erection as I looked at Jeremy's body, I wanted to stop, go to the side room and fuck the girl who was there, but I couldn't. Flex one of my arms, just to be able to look at him, I put my other hand to my cock and I began to stimulate my cock, I looked at my sweaty armpit and I could not resist dipping my nose into the sweaty dregs of Jeremy, they were so smooth my tongue didn't feel a trace of scratchiness because he used to shave completely for amateur bodybuilding competitions.

It didn't take too long to ejaculate. I was very excited by all the new sensations. I had never felt so good in my whole life even though I just masturbated was the best thing I had ever tried, I fixed my gaze on the mess I had made in the bathroom and at that moment I finally realized -I am… .gay ? - I didn't know what it meant to be gay, but I was sure of one thing. I can't give it back now that I know there's something better than having sex with a hot girl is having sex with your best friend's hot body and loving it properly.

I can't give him back his body from him now that I'm experiencing so much pleasure. I refuse to give up this body and this life, I do n't know how Jeremy will take it but if I can keep his body from him I do n't care, I just hope Jeremy is enjoying being straight, maybe he might like it almost as much as me

Hey folks! if you like bodyswap stories take a look at my Ko-fi, I have a lot of more stories, and you can help me keep creating more stories!

[strawberrystepmom]

NSFW - MDNI. cw: dacryphilia. self ship coded. gojo x f!reader. reader is a crier (couldn't be me....*looks away from camera insecurely*) gojo loves a crier he's sadist this isn't a new agenda but im still pushing it... | divider by cafekitsune, wc 1.3k

“And you know what he said to me? ‘You need to try harder.’ He actually told me, to my face, that I need to do more.”

Whatever was discussed today has clearly upset her, Satoru thinks to himself while laying on his back next to you on the floor of your bedroom, his hands folded beneath his head. Any criticism of you is rare and depending on how harsh it is, you react poorly. This is something he has learned many times over, coming to see you more than once to find you pouting about being less than perfection in someone else’s eyes thanks to the high standards you hold yourself to. 

If he’s honest though, his mind is barely focused on the comforting part of his “sometimes boyfriend” duties. He’s more interested in how you look right now, his head turned to see your chest heave with little petulant sobs and your palms pressed against your warm cheeks. The physical manifestations of your frustration look like glitter trailing down your face in the evening light, leaving the tips of your fingers glistening and wet while you wipe them away. Without thinking, he reaches across your body and moves your hands, wiping away what you couldn’t get with his thumb.

“I could trap him in the void if that would make you feel better?”

A giggle followed by another sob bubbles out of you and Gojo feels pinned to the ground, the weight of his own desire for you in this vulnerable state borderline frustrating. Seeing your girlfriend cry and sob and whine should not make you hard yet here he is, tip of his dick begging to press against the seam of his sweatpants. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m just being a baby.”

You are, but you’re his baby and he will not stand for you crying over someone or something else. He’ll just have to give you something to cry about instead, unable to hold back any longer, simmering desire turning into something bubbling over.

“Hey, look at me”

Rolling from his back onto all fours, his knees touch the carpeted floor and his palms are planted on either side of your head, framing your pretty face from his perspective. A shimmering tear trails over your cheek that leaves a wet trail behind it, your skin damp and dewy. The tip of your nose shines, your eyes are red rimmed, but Satoru finds it irresistible and always has. The reasons why aren’t a mystery to him, given how badly he wants you regularly but the blood rushes from his cheeks downward to his cock more quickly than he anticipated when he’s faced with you like this - needy and ripe for his picking. He’s half-hard thanks to nothing but the sight of your teary eyes. What an effect to have on someone who could bring the world to its knees if he were to wake up one morning and choose to do so.

“You look so good like this,” he croons and you squirm beneath him, a poor attempt to free yourself from the weight of his gaze. There’s nowhere for you to run or hide. You can’t play off his desire as a show when it’s just the two of you and he moves his knee to wedge it between your barely parted thighs. 

Your palms press against his chest, legs kicking out pathetically around him. All it takes is a bend of his elbows and your chests are practically pressed together. Is it difficult to breathe because he’s so close or because you want him so badly? The tips of your noses touch and he dips his face, making you pucker in anticipation of his lips coming to claim a kiss from yours. 

“Satoru,” you whine, mouth still half puckered in preparation for a kiss that doesn’t appear to be coming. “What are you doing?”

This draws a laugh from him, his tongue darting out of his mouth to brush against your cheek and the side of your mouth. The tear that left at trail is gone, a salty taste across his tongue, his mind associating that taste with nothing but you. His cock jumps in response.

“It’s always Satoru this, Satoru that, ohhhhh Satoru!” He mocks you lightheartedly, tone jumping into something nasally in his best impression of your higher pitched voice, the one he hears when his fingers are pressing deep inside of you. “Can’t I make you feel better like this too?”

Another tear falls from your eyes, following the same path as the one before it, settling in the cradle of your lips. Gojo leans down and kisses you on the mouth, tongue pressing against the seam of your lips to soak up every bit of the tear that remains. Your saliva mixes with his, your tears, the viscosities mixing into something more erotic than you could have imagined. Thin and sticky, just like the nectar that seeps from your cunt and drenches the cotton gusset of your panties that is wedged between your folds while you kiss him.

“Just let me…” he breathes between your lips, tongue slipping against yours. Even his voice is higher than usual, laced with desire and need you do not understand and are not about to question. “Let me do this.”

You hope he realizes that you aren’t “letting” him do anything, mind spinning in dizzying circles with every tear that runs down your cheek and hits your lips that he’s quick to take for himself. This is just as enjoyable for you as it is for him, one of his hands moving from the side of your head downward to your hip, playing with the waistband of your shorts. Your hips cant upward and he smiles against your mouth, your neediness more obvious than ever while reaching to grasp the back of his neck and hold him against you. He stops you, the palm on your hip pressing your ass back down to the ground. 

“Have any more for me?” Satoru’s chest heaves when he asks, breath leaving him in warm puffs that live and die against your mouth. “You’re so pretty when you cry, baby, can you blame me?”

His tongue darts out again and he licks up anything that may have been neglected in his haste, the muscle running over the seam of your lips and the plushness of both lower and top. A moan, wet and breathy, leaves you and another round of fresh tears follow the path of the others before them. You want to argue with him, well aware of how you look with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, but your pussy aches and clit throbs in response to him. The words you want to say wouldn’t make themselves appear even if you tried harder to find them than you are now.

“Come on baby, gimme some more.” His encouragement makes you sniffle and his hand sinks below the waistband of your shorts and panties, fingertips trailing downward until they press against the sticky cleft of your pussy. “Just a little more and then I’ll make it better, okay?”

Nodding, you glance up at him and the shine of unshed tears makes him growl low in his throat. His fingers spread your folds open beneath your clothing and wetness soaks his fingers, tongue searching your face for wetness that can match what he is feeling right now. The mix of tears and saliva and your arousal are too much and he cannot wait any longer, pressing his knee against your clothed mound.

“Don’t stop crying for me,” he begs and you nod again, acquiescing to all of his requests as usual. You grind into the hardness of his knee and he chuckles, glad he followed his instincts to keep you here and like this, the kind of girl who will gladly cry and grind against a thigh if it means she feels better. 

“I’ll make you feel better,” he assures with a chant against your lips, words interrupted with the sounds of how insatiable for one another the two of you are, smacking and sliding and pants and moans. 

As if you don’t already.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Movie Madness

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When Dean drops in unexpectedly, you decide on an activity to get both of your pulses racing. Reader is a med-student in college and works in a library. This is the fourth fic in my Before You Go Universe, but can be read as stand alone (probably?).

Tropes: Fluff, Established Relationships, Age Difference (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early to mid-30's)

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: Some swearing (once or twice), Mentions of sex (not explicit at all), Implied sex, Sexual Innuendo, SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE ALIEN,  Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: This has been sitting in my WIPs folder forever and I really just wanted to write a fluff where Dean had never seen Alien and the reader remedies that. 😊

"Okay, next question: What is the first step in glycolysis, what does it create, and what does it use?" Tim asks, lounging back against one of the dusty bookshelves.

 It was a Friday night, which normally meant you were gone to see Dean at the bunker, but this weekend he was off in Maine, dealing with a pack of werewolves and you had picked up a shift at the library.

Usually you would be disappointed that you couldn't see him, but due to the giant test looming over your head on Monday, you were happy to relax and study with your lab partner, Tim.

Tim stretched out his legs as far as they could go between the two bookshelves, while you read through the call numbers on the weathered spines of the faded books waiting to be replaced back on the dusty shelves in front of you. Tim, true to his word, had come to help you study. He had been happy to hear that you weren't going to see Dean, because he was also having a hard time with the material and he always said that quizzing someone else made him remember the information more anyway so he'd shown up three hours ago and hadn't left.

"Ohh I know this." You groan, resting your head against the bookshelf and bracing your arms on the metal ledge.

"I'm sure you do. Since you were asleep during the lecture on glycolysis."

"Hey. What happened to no judgement between us?" You turn your head to glare at your lab partner. "I didn't judge you when you dated  that finance major who didn't know that the Earl of Sandwich was a person."

"An honest mistake-"

"Or when you couldn't find your glasses for two hours when you were wearing them-"

"It's very easy to do that when you have glasses. And you didn’t tell me that I was wearing them! You have no idea-"

"Or when you-"

"Okay! I give. Make it stop." He groans, kicking out at the back of your calf with his foot, but you dodge him. "Just answer the question."

"Fine."

You stand there for a minute trying to mentally compartmentalize your notes, flipping through them page by page, shuffling through the color-coded diagrams you drew for the glycolysis cycle two days ago, because yes you had fallen asleep during the lecture but you had forced yourself to go through the posted PowerPoints. "Okay. In the first step it's glucose being turned into D-glucose-6-Phosphate and it uses the-um-." You groan. "Oh it uses hexokinase."

"Finally, and yes that's right. What's the next step, what does it use, and what does it create?" Tim asks.

You turn back to the cart of dusty volumes, picking a faded red encyclopedia etched with gold script and note the call number.

You walk around the bookshelf to the other side where the call number should be, brushing your fingertips along the worn spines that line the walls and breathe in the scent of old books. It was enough to calm you down. Something about being surrounded by them always made you feel at home. Your mother was always reading worn paperbacks in her chair by the window with a cup of tea steaming in the early morning light back home, in the library that your father had made her in one of the spare bedrooms at your house. Whenever you found the time to read, it made you think of her, of course finding time to read was difficult.

You hadn't been back to see your parents since last Christmas, called them yes, and you knew deep down at some point you'd have to introduce Dean to them, but you kept putting that off, mostly because you didn't want to tell them what he did. Whenever your mom asked on the phone, you changed the subject, because it hurt you to lie to them. You were so close with both of them that it made everything complicated to keep Dean from them.

"Hello?" Tim says from the other side of the bookshelf. "Did you get lost or something?"

"Huh? Oh no I'm just thinking." You reach up on tip-toe to place the volume on the top shelf where it belongs. "Okay, I’m pretty sure the second step is D-glucose-6-Phosphate to Fructo-"

Someone grabs you from behind, wrapping their strong arms around your waist to pull you back into their chest, while planting their lips directly on the slope of your neck.

You open your mouth to scream, but then you hear Dean's rough voice in your ear.

"Did you miss me sweetheart?" He kisses you again, trailing his lips down your neck into the shadow of your jaw.

"Dean what the hell? You scared the crap out of me." You hiss turning around to hit him with the large volume still clutched in your hands. But despite your anger, you were happy to see him.

There was a little more wear around his eyes and the dark circles that rimmed them were prominent against his skin, the shadow of his beard was more apparent, but his eyes still shone bright green with his smile when he looked at you, making you feel like you were going to melt.

It wasn't a new feeling, and you hoped that it never went away.

"Sorry sweetheart." Dean laughs, dodging another swing of the encyclopedia. "You looked so cute putting the books away I had to."

"You're the worst."

He grabs the front of your sweatshirt and pulls you into him so that his lips are inches from yours, but does not kiss you. "Am I?" Dean breathes, close enough that you can feel the scratch of stubble against your skin and long for him to close the distance between the two of you.

"Yes." Your hands curl in the front of his black shirt beneath his leather jacket.

Dean kisses you earnestly, drawing the next breath from your lungs as you breathe him in, drunk on his smell and taste after only a few seconds. There really was nothing like kissing Dean, the subtle tilt of your head back, the gentle scrape of his beard against your cheeks, the soft sound he makes when he deepens the kiss, and the way he holds you close, almost as if he believes you will fade away in his arms.

"How about now?" He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours.

"You might be raising your rating." You smile, tightening your fingers in his hair. He'd been allowing it to grow a little longer and you loved it.

"Anything else I might be able to do to get it a bit higher, Sweetheart?" Dean smirks.

"Maybe-"

"Alright, I think that I've given you long enough to-" Tim begins to say rounding the corner of the bookshelves, but stops mid-sentence when he spots Dean. His eyes narrow a fraction.

"Hey there Tom!" Dean smiles as he pulls you closer to his chest, but raises his head up to give Tim a winning smile.

"It's Tim." Tim replies with a frown.

Tim had only seen Dean a handful of times and each time he did, you noticed how much he seemed to hate Dean. You couldn't think of a reason why. Dean hadn't done anything worth Tim's hatred. You had tried to act as a mediator in the past, tried to get Tim to get to know Dean before passing judgement, but nothing seemed to work.

In fact you had invited Tim to come with Dean and you to get a drink one night after class, but it had ended with you pretending that you forgot to return a phone call from your mother and you dragging a fuming Dean out of the bar while Tim glared at him.

That night had been awkward for everyone.

The entire time Tim had emphasized how important a college degree was and how important everything the two of you were doing at med school was, while glaring at Dean and almost implying that Dean was wasting your time. And when Dean told him he barely finished high school, Tim had laughed at him. Which made you angry, because you knew that Dean struggled with that, that he struggled thinking that you deserved better because he wasn’t educated the same way.

The next day you had received a phone call from Tim who apologized for what he'd said and stated that he was having a bad day and drank too much, but what he said to Dean still stung.

Dean didn't deserve to be treated like trash, didn't deserve to be put down because he didn't go to college, but you allowed yourself to forgive Tim. He was one of your only friends at school. However, you still didn't understand why he hated Dean so much.

An awkward silence passes between the three of you.

"Well I'm gonna go." Tim says looking from you to Dean. "I've got an early shift tomorrow. But let me know if you want to study again before the test."

"Okay, I'll text you later. Oh and I'll add you to the google doc for the notes I made." You smile at him, while leaning into Dean's embrace subconsciously. It had been two weeks since you'd seen him and you didn't realize how much you missed him until this moment.

"Sure." Tim turns to go back for his backpack on the other side.

"Bye Tom." Dean calls at his retreating back.

You sigh grabbing Dean's chin and bring his face back down to look at you. "You know his name."

"Do I?" Dean scrunches his face up as if trying to remember.

"Dean-"

"I'm just joking with him sweetheart. He's gotta learn to lighten up." Dean rolls his eyes, but then brushes his lips against yours, making your mind go completely blank. "I missed you."

"Is that why you're back early from your 'hunting trip'?" You smile against his lips.

"Maybe. That and it turned out not to be a pack of werewolves, but a very angry bear. Yogi didn't get the memo about eating hikers."

"Guess that makes you Ranger Smith. Please tell me that Sam or Cas had to dress up like Cindy Bear to appease Yogi and that you got pictures." You plead tugging at his hair hoping that Dean is about to make this the best day of your life.

"I love how much you know about Yogi Bear-"

"Oh that's nothing, you should hear me talk about Scooby Doo. My sister and I used to watch it all the time and let me be the first to say, Daphne deserved better."

It was an argument that your sister and you got into more than once, she was team Fred all the way, but you think that Daphne deserved better than a guy who was more focused on himself rather than anyone else. Not to mention he always let her get into trouble and he never seemed to care about her. Meanwhile your sister always said that he was trying to act aloof and sexy.

I miss her so much.

Dean freezes as soon as soon as you say it.

"Dean?" You look up at him worried. "Are you okay? Oh no, please don't tell me that you think that Daphne and Fred should-"

He picks you up and pins you to the bookshelf behind you, but before you can ask him again if he's okay, his lips are against yours.

He tastes like beer, coffee, and something sweet that you can't identify, both intoxicating and invigorating. The smell of his cologne and shampoo floods through your nose followed closely by the smell of leather and gun metal. Dean pulls your thighs up around him to secure you against his waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue  brushing against yours in a wicked dance that drives all thoughts from your mind.  You moan, tangling your fingers in his hair to force his mouth harder against yours, not wanting him to stop.  It'd been so long since you'd seen him, since you'd had any time with him, since he'd touched you-

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" Dean whispers against your lips. "Because every time I see you I don't think that I can love you more and then you say something like that."

"That Daphne deserved better?" You smile.

Dean kisses you as soon as you say it, holding you so tight against him it's almost painful, but you don't care, because it reminds you that he's here with you.

"Say it again." He mutters.

"Daphne deserved better."

"Fuck I love you."

"And I love that each time I see you I find out more about your weird kinks." You snort rubbing the back of his head gently in the way you know he likes.

"It's not a kink, it's the truth." Dean sighs while adjusting his grip under your thighs to make sure he doesn't drop you.

"Mhmm. Sure."

"So how much longer do you have to work?" He asks.

You glance at the watch on your wrist behind his head. "About an hour. Longer if you keep distracting me."

"I'm a wonderful distraction Sweetheart. Wouldn't mind distracting you for a little longer." Dean's mouth drifts to your jaw.

"Dean." You sigh. "I love you baby, but can I please finish putting these away?"

"In a minute." He continues to kiss down the column of your throat, sucking a mark just below your jaw. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." You sigh, knotting your hands in his hair and securing him against your neck.

"Have I ever told you that you're the sexiest librarian I've ever seen?" Dean murmurs.

"Given how many you've watched on your laptop I'll take that as a compliment." You snort. "But they're probably wearing less clothes than I am-"

"I can fix that sweetheart."

You roll your eyes at your boyfriend, but you’re not opposed to what he’s suggesting. "How long can you stay?"

"Few days."

"Hmm."

"What do you think we should do with all that time?" Dean looks up with a mischievous glint in his eye that makes a shudder go down your spine.

"I have a few ideas."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Something that will get our pulses racing." You kiss Dean, but before he can deepen it you pull back. "And maybe a few things that'll make me scream." You whisper, your breath upon his lips. "Would you like that Dean?"

"I think I would."

"Good."

"You know when you asked me if I wanted to hear you scream and wanted to get our pulses racing, this wasn't what I had in mind." Dean frowns, shrugging off his leather jacket and placing the extra large cheese pizza down on the end of your bed.

"Really? Huh. Can't imagine what else you were thinking about." You reply with an shrug, shuffling through your collection of DVD's to look for your favorite one.

"You act so innocent Sweetheart, but we both know how much trouble you seem to get us into all the time."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You finally see the familiar cover of your Alien Movie collection. "I can't believe you've never seen Alien before. It truly is one of the best movies in history." You set up the DVD player and grab the remote while Dean changes into his boxers.

You were looking forward to a relaxing night of watching movies and eating copious amounts of snacks and pizza to drown out the worry for the test on Monday. You figured that you had studied enough today with Tim at the library and now you were taking a well deserved break with Dean and your favorite comfort movie, Alien.

As soon as you found out Dean had never seen it, you'd wanted to make him watch it, but there never seemed to be time and tonight was perfect. You had grabbed a pizza on the way back, as well as every type of candy you could think of, beer (Dean's contribution), and popcorn.

"I was never really into Sci-Fi. That's more Sam." Dean sighs, nestling down on your small full sized bed, avoiding the pizza box.

"We both know that's a lie. You like Godzilla vs. Mothra!" You shout, changing out of your jeans and t-shirt, before grabbing the flannel that Dean took off a few seconds ago. It was still warm, but soft against your skin. “Not to mention I’ve heard you make at least seven Star Trek jokes.”

"Godzilla vs. Mothra is not really Sci-fi, that's giant monster destroying a city and it's awesome." Dean replies not taking his eyes off of you as you button up the flannel and ignoring your comment about Star Trek.

"Yes it is awesome and it most definitely is Sci-fi. And Alien is Sci-Fi for people who like Sci-fi and awesome monster movie for people who pretend to hate Sci-Fi like you. It has something for everyone, even cat lovers!" You get on the bed, sitting cross-legged next to him as you reach for the pizza and the bag that holds all your other snacks.

"Cat lovers?"

"There's a cat in this movie, Jonesy. He's adorable." You grab a slice of pizza and try not to moan out loud at the taste. "I love you." You whisper as you take another bite of the cheesy goodness.

"I love you too Sweetheart." Dean says with a heart-warming smile, not understanding that you are in fact talking to the pizza and not to him.

"Um. Well I love you too Dean-" You laugh awkwardly.

He frowns at you. "You were talking to the pizza weren't you?"

"No…"

Dean snorts and grabs a slice for himself. "Go on and start the movie. I doubt that I'll be able to stay awake for it."

"You're gonna love it!" You say leaning into his shoulder as you continue to eat.

"Uh-huh sure. How about we make this interesting?”

“How?” You lean your head back to look up at him.

“Well if I guess who dies one by one correctly, you take off a piece of clothing and if I guess wrong then I take off a piece of clothing.” He purrs tracing the edges of where his flannel hits your thighs.

“Dean you’re only wearing boxers. And I’m only wearing your shirt and underwear."

“Even better. Only have one wrong answer for me, and two correct ones for you.” He smirks wider.

“Are you trying to distract me from my favorite movie with the promise of sex?”

Dean leans in towards your face. “That depends. Is it working?”

You look at him, eyes tracing his handsome features, thinking about how much you missed him. “Nope.” You reply raising your slice of pizza between the two of you and taking a large bite.

Dean rolls his eyes and grabs a beer, snapping the metal top off with his bare hand.

How does he do something so normal and make it be so sexy?

“I promise that you’re gonna love it. And if you don’t, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You stoke your hand down his muscular chest.

Dean lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine.” He grumbles, before pulling you into his side as the opening music fills your bedroom.

You’d seen Alien maybe a million times. Monster movies were your sister and your favorite and the Alien movie series was the subject of many movie nights you spent with her before she got married. Binge watching all of them while eating probably cancer inducing junk food was a regular occurrence. Not to mention her bachelorette theme was badass female characters and she had proudly dressed up like Ripley. 

You were excited to share this with him, and as much as he protested watching it, you knew that Dean was going to love  it.

"I'm gonna go make popcorn." You say shuffling through the bag of snacks for the box of microwavable popcorn that you were sure was at the bottom.

"What?" Dean perks up.

"I'm going to go make popcorn." You pull yourself from his arms, stretching your arms up to the ceiling before making your way to your bedroom door.

"I'll-um- I'll go with you." Dean clears his throat, rising from the bed to follow.

"What?" You turn to look at him.

You'd been watching for over an hour, long enough for the Xenomorph to be on the loose in the spaceship and long enough for him to see what a badass Ripley was. She was and you wouldn’t apologize for dumping Dean if you ever had a chance with her.

But Dean seemed to be enjoying the movie. He’d yelled for a solid five minutes at the crew who stood by and watched the xenomorph explode out of their friend’s chest and he’d grabbed you by the waist and shook you when the captain got killed in the air vents while screaming “it’s your fault he’s dead” to the characters on the screen.

He was hooked.

"I'm going to help you make the popcorn." He repeats, but he won't quite look at you, his eyes are shifting through your room, tracing over the dark shapes.

"Okay." You were confused as to why he was coming with you, but you shrug and walk out into your living room.

The apartment is quiet and dark. Your roommate, Suze, hadn't been home when you got there and you didn't know when she was coming back or if she would. She'd been spending an inordinate amount of time at her new boyfriend Matt's house, a boyfriend that you actually didn't hate running into and didn't make you feel uncomfortable.

After everything that happened with her ex Cooper, you had wondered if things between Suze and you would go back to normal. There had been a few awkward hello's and goodbye's, but since she started dating Matt about a month ago things seemed to settle down. So much so that she had actually invited you to come with them to get a drink one night and you were allowed to bring Dean, and it wasn't awkward, maybe at first, but not now. It had only taken two years for your roommate to actually like you.

I'll leave her a note to let her know that there's some extra beer in the fridge if she wants it.

You begin to open the box of popcorn to reach the plastic packets inside.

"Did you hear that?" Dean says, turning towards your front door and shielding your body from it like it's going to attack you.

"Hear what?" The plastic popcorn packet rustles as you tear it open before you place it into the microwave.

"That weird noise."

"Dean, I think you're hearing things."

"I am not!" He walks towards the door carefully.

"Yes you are." You stop for a second, watching his tense stature, and suddenly understand why he wanted to come with you into the kitchen. "Wait a minute, are you scared?"

"Huh?" Dean peeks over his shoulder eyes wide.

"You are! You're scared!" You snort. "I can’t believe this."

"I'm not scared." Dean lies, standing up straighter.

"Wow. Big bad Dean Winchester is scared of aliens."

"I am not!" He plants his hands on his hips, but its not enough to convince you.

"How are you scared of that? You see stuff worse than Xenomorphs everyday!" You laugh again, turning back to the microwave to pour the now made popcorn into a stainless steel bowl. 

"I don't see aliens. And I sure as hell don't see something like that!"

"Uh-huh. Sure." You shake your head at him, practically skipping back into your room. "And I thought this day couldn't get any better."

Dean collapses on the bed next to you in a huff. "How are you not afraid of that thing?"

"I’m honestly more disappointed that you haven’t proved their existence.”

“You want something like that to exist?”

“I mean it’s kinda cool-“

"Cool? You think that thing is cool?” Dean's mouth drops open in surprise.

“Yeah?” You shrug and pop a piece of the popcorn in your mouth.

“It’s got acid for blood!”

“So what you’re saying is, if one of those was on the loose you wouldn’t protect me?” You force your smile into an attractive pout, fluttering your eyelashes at Dean.

 He looks you right in the eye, without blinking and states, “Babe you’re on your own.”

 “Wow. It’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, I’m not scared.” Dean huffs as you fasten you arms around his chest and lay your head over his heart.

As the movie continues you keep sneaking glances at Dean, who has begun to subconsciously press you tighter and tighter against his chest with the arm he has wrapped around your back. He hasn't taken his eyes off the screen, the most he'd done is stress eat his way through all of your snacks.

But you loved it. You cuddled further into his chest, smiling against his skin as you did. You loved having these moments with him, hadn't had one with him in almost two weeks. The most the two of you had done was talk on the phone until you fell asleep, but you missed this. You missed your sexy, gentle, kind, passionate, caring, and gorgeous boyfriend.

“Come on. The CAT IS SMARTER THAN ALL OF THEM!” He shouts wincing as another crew member is killed by the creature.

“Yes it is.”  You snort.

"We should get a cat."

"What? Are you even a cat person?" You sit up and look at Dean, who is still watching the movie with wide eyes.

"I could be! It could tell that fucking thing was there! It was warning them and they didn’t listen and now they’re dead! See if we had a cat I’d listen to him." He argues.

"What are you the cat whisperer?"

"If it started acting weird then we’d know one of those things was around!" Dean shouts squeezing you tighter against his bare chest, his eyes still glued to the t.v.

Is it wrong that I like seeing him like this?

You'd never seen him afraid before, but it was giving you a sickening amount of joy for him to be clutching on to you so tightly. That was probably because you missed him so much and it was nice to be in his arms again, even if he was cutting off circulation to the top half of your body.

"Cats always act weird. They're cats. It’s kinda the whole deal."

"Do you like cats?"

"I could. I like dogs. I always wanted a pet when I was younger, but my sister is allergic." You frown at the tv.

When you were a kid you hadn't seen a problem and brought home a random dog while telling your sister loudly to "hold her breath."

Your parents hadn't thought it was as funny as you had.

"How is she doing?" Dean asks turning to look at you as the end credits roll.

He hadn't met any of your family yet and you were planning on asking Dean to come home with you for thanksgiving in a few weeks, but you weren't sure it was a good idea. You loved him and he loved you, but you were afraid that he would freak out about meeting your family. You knew that he wasn't used to something like that, meeting a significant other's family,  and you didn't want to push him to do something uncomfortable.

Then again, the premise of free food will probably entice him. Not to mention my mom is the best cook in the world.

"Good. The baby is due in November and she's hoping that it'll be out by Thanksgiving because she doesn’t want to miss the one holiday that doesn't fat shame you for taking another plate. I just called her the other day, she can’t wait for it to be over."

You also hadn't seen your sister in a little bit, but it was difficult to balance that, especially because she lived so far away and you were trying to balance work, school, and Dean. But you did get a phone call out to her at least once every week. Lately it had been more because she liked to call to complain about being pregnant and because her husband was away on business, she wasn't able to do it to him.

"How’s her husband?"

"He’s good. Just got promoted. I still have no idea what he does. She says she doesn’t either. Every time I asks my brain turns off. Then again she said she’d be okay if he was out there shaking it for dollar bills, as long as he brings money home."

"I think I love your sister."

"She is pretty great. And honestly, it seems like a nice way to pick up some extra cash-"

"No." Dean smiles slips into a frown.

"No what?" You ask him confused.

"You’re not allowed to become a stripper."

"I didn’t say I wanted to. Just that it might be a viable option to getting some cash on the side."

"No.” Dean’s eyes flick from where Ripley is fighting the alien in the escape pod to focus on you.

“You know it’s a free country and if I wanted to be a stripper I could."

"Nope."

"What?"

"Sorry doll. The only one that gets to see this sexy  body is me."

“I think you’re being selfish.”

“Yes unashamedly. I want you all to myself.” Deans smile shifts into a smirk, eyes glinting mischievously. “Though if you wanted to give me a show I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

"So what did you think about the movie?"

"I liked it, though I think it's kind of a red flag that this is your comfort movie."

"Says the guy who's entire trunk of his car is a red flag."

"I'm serious. How is this your comfort movie?" Dean gestures at the end credits that continue to scroll to the iconic soundtrack.

"I don't know. I like it. It makes me feel better about my problems watching them all scramble around."

"You're so weird." Dean sighs shaking his head.

"I know. It's great isn't it?" You flash a wide grin and elbow him in the side.

"Keeps me on my toes."

You find the box that contains the entire collection underneath the wrappers of all the snacks and wave it in front of you to taunt him. “So I’ve got the next three on DVD. Unless you’re too scared Winchester.”

“Bring it on!”

"Or," You smile up at him. "We could take a break because you were very brave. And maybe you deserve a reward." You press a kiss along the edge of his jaw, feeling the scratch of his stubble against the soft pillow of your lips. Dean had allowed it to grow out a little more than usual and you loved that.

"And what would we do?" Dean asks you innocently, but his green eyes gleam with mischief, tracing down to where his shirt rests over your thighs.

"Something that would get our pulses racing-"

Dean tackles you back against your bed, his lips inches apart from yours. “I’d like that sweetheart.”

“Thought so.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for the Before You Go Series please let me know! 😊

Taglist:

@sunnyhummingbee @roseblue373 @brightlilith @snowayumi @ladysparkles78

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[luvfy0dor]

prolonged & soft and sweet kisses with Fyodor! thxxx

Fyodor + Soft and Sweet Kisses ♡⁠˖

warnings; none! Prolonged kisses w/ Fyodor here!!

Fyodors hand held yours, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles every now and again. He practically had his nose buried in the book he held in front of him, his eyes swiftly darting back and forth as he read each line. His legs were crossed and your head was rested against his shoulder. Every now and again you took a peak at what he was reading, but it didn't interest you enough to keep your attention. Just as you started to drift off to sleep against him, he closed his book, the thick pages and hard cover making a small 'clop' sound. "Are you tired?" He asked, turning his torso to face you. "Only a little." You murmured, leaning your head against the back of the old couch. He smiled softly. "Let's head to bed so you can lay down." He says, pulling you up to your feet by your hand. "Hey, no, it's fine! We can stay out here!" You offer, directing your hand to point at the sofa. "And we can also go to bed." He grins, cupping your cheek. "You've got eye bags, myshka." He says, his thumb pressing against your dark circles. "I know, even though I do get enough sleep most nights." You huff. "You've got 'em too."

He smiles and nods as you do the same to him, touching beneath his eyes gently and affectionately. There a silence that's only broken seconds later by the sounds of his quiet sigh into your lips. Neither of you are in any rush to deepen the kiss or make it more heated, just slowly enjoying the calm moment together. Fyodors lips could feel like the sun kissing your skin on a late summer morning, but they could also be reminiscent of the waves crashing against the shore in the nighttime. You let your hands slip into his hair, your fingertips massaging his scalp pleasantly while he kept up with the kiss. Both of you finally pulled away, but leaned right back in to rest your forehead against eachother. He took s moment to open his eyes again, but when he did they were hardly opened. His half-lidded gaze stared back at you, and you couldn't help but giggle a little. "That's a funny angle." You say, pushing him away gently. He grins, flashing his off-white teeth. "Well you're not exactly a show-stopper from that perspective either." You laugh under your breath before pulling him along with you towards the bedroom. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Lets head to bed."

A/n; Thank you so much for requesting!!! I hope you like it!! BUT NEW CHAOTER DAY HOLY SHIT GUYS ALCOTT MY BELOVED AND FITZGERALD AND BRAM TOO BUT LIKE HURRAH IM SO HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!

[charlie-lec-stories]

Out the comfort zone // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Sensitive matters should always be addressed with kindness, tactfulness and pinch of fun.

Warnings: Sexual comments and conversations, but from a mature and funny perspective.

Author’s Note: This story is about communication. Since our favourite trio relays a lot on it, this time you'll have the chance to witness them discuss a really sensitive matter on their relationship. Rate: +18 (Sexual topics)

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"No, no, no, no, no, no. This is not working, Max".

"Maybe if you move your leg to the left, Schat".

"What do you think I am, a gymnast?".

"Well, you are pretty flexible, Amour. Just open your legs wider. I can go behind you".

"This is getting kind of personal, guys, I don't think I want to be a part of this anymore".

"Oscar, don't be a baby".

"He is a baby, Amour".

"I'm 23!".

Lando, George and Alex couldn't believe what they were hearing. It wasn't enough for them to do the dirty together, they also had to mix Oscar into it. As the three of them walked further into the apartment, they found Oscar's hoodie on the floor, and the sound of Max grunting wasn't helping with the picture they were already making in their minds.

"I swear to God, I'm not that flexible. I mean, when it’s just us three, it's easier, but I think that four is just too much. Sorry Oscar, it’s not your fault".

"Way to make a man feel rejected...".

"I really am sorry. But if we keep going like this, I'm going to fall and my ass is going to hurt for days'.

Okay, maybe they should make their presence known. Looking at each other, George understood that he should be the one taking the lead.

"Hey guys, are you home?". He asked, but Lando just couldn't keep quiet.

"Please, tell me you haven't corrupted my teammate yet. He's just a baby!".

Walking into the living room, the three drivers were surprised by what they found. Tangled in a Twister mat, the other four were barely keeping their bodies up. Actually, Y/N was the first one to give up, falling butt first to the floor and taking Oscar down with her, who kicked Charles' right arm, making the monegasque lose balance and take down Max with him.

"Why is it that I can never guess it right when it comes to you three?". Lando asked, rhetorically. Every time he guessed they were doing nothing, he walked on them taking their clothes off, and every time he thought that they were having a private moment, they were just doing something completely innocent.

"Maybe you just think it too much". Max replied, smirking at the disgusted face Lando made. Oscar, Charles and Max got up, Y/N staying laying on the floor, legs and arms extended and exhausted look on her face. Everyone looked at her, expecting her to get up.

"Don't worry, I'll get up when I start feeling my legs again... Man, I hate Twister". She sighed. Oscar took his chance to get back at her.

"And I'm the baby...".

They all had dinner together, and after the guys went away, Max and Charles cleaned the kitchen while Y/N fixed the living room. She carefully folded the mat while listening to the boys chatting in the kitchen. They were discussing something about Carlos. Apparently, the spaniard had a fight with his girlfriend about anal sex. She found it weird that Charles and Max were open enough to talk about it knowing that she was around. It wasn't like she didn't know what they both did when they were alone, but they were never straight forward about either. She kept listening to the conversation. It seemed like Carlos' girlfriend was scared of trying it, and he took it as if she didn't trust him enough to do that with him. But she wasn't interested in what Carlos and his girlfriend did, she cared about what Charles and Max thought about the situation.

The thing is, they had their own ways of approaching sex and those ways were kind of limited. Mostly because of her. She was scared, as Carlos' girlfriend, of getting hurt while doing new things, and even if she had boyfriends before them, she was a little vanilla with them. It was a big jump going from one person to thinking about two at the same time. So the boys were patient, they "took turns" so she wouldn't be too overwhelmed with the situation. More than once she thought about how boring it must be for the one waiting, watching the other two have fun while he had to wait, and whenever those thoughts crossed her mind she felt the need to broaden her comfort zone a little bit.

She concentrated on the conversation again. Max explained that he could empathize with Carlos' point of view, it would hurt him a little to know that Charles or Y/N wouldn't try with him something they wanted to do thinking they could get hurt. He was clear with that: when you love someone, you don't let them get hurt, and you never, ever, hurt them yourself. Charles was little more on the girlfriend's side, he remembered the first time he let Max do that, and he was scared shitless, he also reminded Max that he begged Charles to go easy on him when it was his turn, and with that reminder, Max gave some more credit to the girlfriend's argument. It seemed like they both understood, not only for having been in that position before, but also from an empathetic side, how vulnerable it could be to let someone do that to you. She felt relieved.

"Hey, can I ask you guys about something?". She asked later that night, looking at her lap. They were getting ready for bed, Max was brushing his teeth and Charles was changing his jeans for a more comfortable pair of shorts. They both looked at her, curious about what she could be thinking about. She had been pretty quiet since the guys left.

"Sure, Amour. What is it?". Charles walked to the bed and sat down, placing his hand on her leg and running it up and down, easing her anxiety a bit. Max rushed up his routine so he could focus completely on her, going to the bed as fast as he could.

"I've been thinking about something. About us". Max didn't like the sound of that, he loved what they had too much, he didn't want to break up. "I know that we don't do a lot here". She patted the bed and they frowned at the same time.

"What do you mean, Schat?". He smirked at the thought of everything they had done on that bed. "We do a lot here".

"I mean, yes, we do, but it's how we do it". They weren't following her and it was frustrating. "I want us to do things together, the three of us, but it scares me. Every time I think about it, this fear of getting hurt paralyzes me".

"You mean that you want us to do things to you... together?". Charles was trying to be as polite as he could about the subject, Max was a little more direct.

"This is the type of conversation I like to have in bed. Who cares about the last episode of The Last of Us?". Y/N laughed under her breath, the pink on her cheeks softening a few tones.

"We can try whatever you want, Amour, as long as you feel comfortable. You're the one that will get the roughest part, we know that, that's why we never asked for more and waited for you to bring it up". That made her feel safer.

"We will always take care of you. We promise". She knew that Max was sincere.

"So, how do we do this?". The boys looked at each other, their eyes wide open.

"You want to try this now?". Charles asked and she nodded.

"Yes! I waited for this moment my whole life". Max exclaimed happily as he took off his shirt.

"Mate, calm down or you'll be the one getting it". Charles did what he could, but there was no cure for Max. If there was something that he had been waiting for was for the moment they all three did something together.

"I didn't know his love for butts extended this far". They watched Max go to the bathroom, looking for lubes and oils that would make the process a lot easier.

Charles just sat with her, holding her hand and smiling at her. Y/N and Charles had a different sexual history together than each of them had with Max. They started dating first and that meant that they started sleeping together before they added Max to the equation. Charles knew what, how and when she liked things. He knew her like the back of his hand, and had a different approach to intimacy than Max had. They were pretty equal in bed, but she usually let him take the lead of the situation and it was a wise decision, since he never guessed wrong what she wanted to do. Max was different, he worshiped her, he would do whatever she'd ask for if it meant pleasing her. That meant that she was the one taking the lead and he followed her like a warrior on a crusade. She didn't know what they were like when they were alone, for what she heard from them once in a while, they switched a lot, it all depending on their moods at the moment. When the three of them were together, Charles would usually go first, helping her relax and carry the situation, Max watching and doing little to no interventions. Then the Dutchman would follow with Charles still in the picture, but more coming from a caring side, taking care of them. He had a protective side that never rested and always shone with them.

Max gave Charles the space to ease Y/N's nervousness, while he decided to go to the living room for some scented candles and his speaker, already thinking on which playlist they should use to make the situation more relaxing for her. Charles took his time setting the mood, kissing and caressing every place of skin exposed before starting with her clothes. She was grateful that they didn't jump on her the minute she agreed to try this, instead they took the time to help her feel comfortable and, more importantly, loved. Once every piece of clothing was off, Charles looked at Max, a silent conversation about how Max could enter the picture as smoothly as possible. They decided for him to do something that Charles usually does: massages. So while Charles kept her busy, Max took one of the oils and gently started massaging the knots on her shoulders, easing the tension. They both knew the process, they knew what they had to do for her to be ready, so they just made sure to be open and verbal about what they were going to do before doing anything.

"It's going to hurt, you'll feel some pressure, Schat. It's normal, you just have to relax". Max told her after her and Charles had already been going at it for a while, as he carefully moved her legs to position her comfortably on top of Charles. "If you feel like you can't keep going, you tell me and I stop immediately, okay?". She nodded, still a little tense, even if she was worked up. Charles, under her pulled her flush against him, letting her rest her weight on him and running his hands up and down her sides.

"We need words, Amour, you know it". It was a rule that they had, nothing without explicit consent, specially new things.

"Yes, I understand. I want to do it". She sighed and prepared herself, focusing on Max's hand caressing her lower back.

It hurt, it took her some time to get used to it, she even let a few tears run down her cheeks. The boys stopped moving a few times to give her time, they whispered some comforting words to her and kissed her discomfort away. But she ended up liking it, once the pain was not there anymore, once she felt how connected she was to both of them in that moment, she realized that she was right on stepping out of her comfort zone. She had never seen them as happy as she saw them in that moment, Charles locking eyes with her from underneath her, Max's smile against the back of her shoulder as his hand grabbed Charles', both squeezing each other's hand tightly. It was special and it was great, two things she before feared the moment wouldn't be. She was glad that they all did that together.

"How do you feel, Amour?". Charles asked her as soon as he recovered from his post sex dizziness. She felt Max moving away from her, lifting his weight so she could move if she needed to, but she needed him close, so she grabbed his arm and pulled him back on top of her. Charles let out a huff when Max's weight fell on them again, being the one holding everyone on top of him was hard, but he wouldn't rather be anywhere else. Max chuckled at his huff and Charles slapped the back of his head, but ended up joining his boyfriend in the laughing fit. They stayed like that for a while, just close while their hearts went back to a normal rhythm.

"What about a bath, Schat? I think it'd be good for you". She let out a quiet 'yes', Max then getting up and walking to the bathroom. Charles took his time with the massages, working on all the new muscles she had used and were in need of care. When the water was ready, he helped her up and she went to the bathroom. While she relaxed, Max and Charles cleaned up. They changed the bed sheets, took all the candles, oils and lubes to their places and prepared some tank top and cotton panties for her to dress up with. She stayed there until the water got cold, and with still some discomfort, she got out and wrapped herself in a towel, emptying the tub before walking out. She dried and dressed herself quickly, and joined the boys on the bed, taking her spot in the middle. The tiredness on their faces was notorious, but they put on the effort to stay awake to make sure she was alright.

"You might feel a little sore in the morning". Charles said and then kissed her shoulder, his hand on her hip, on top of Max's.

"But the bright side is that you get breakfast in bed because of that". She giggled at Max's comment.

"I might do this with you every night if it gets me breakfast in bed in the mornings". She joked, but Max was grinning like he won the lottery. "I'm joking".

"Don't play like that with my heart". His smile dropped and she felt Charles shaking with laughter behind her.

"You seriously love butts".

"They are one of the best features of you guys, after your arms and Y/N's boobs". The other two looked at him holding their laughter. "What?"

"Bueno, para gustos, colores". Y/N said and snuggled up by bringing Max closer. They were used to her chanting some Argentinian sayings at them and they learned what most of them meant. This one meant that it was pointless to discuss personal preferences. "Thank you for being so good to me". She said after a while. "You have no idea how important it is for me that this moment went on this great".

"We love so much, Schat. You don't have to thank us for these things. We'd bring down the moon and stars for you".

"Je vous aime, mes chéris". (I love you, loves)

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Hey, I'm back with lestappen x reader. Hope you guys like it. I'm thinking about working a bit with smut, but from a more subtle and delicate perspective. What do you guys think about that? Would you like more content like that?

[lick-me-lennon22]

How you comfort them when they're upset

(hello!! apologies to anon, as i know this is a little late :( I hope you all enjoy regardless and please remember to take care of yourselves ✨️)

John

John tends to internalize his emotions, putting on a brave face even when he's struggling inside

he'll withdraw into himself and become rather cold and distant

he's often weighed down by his own expectations of himself, as well as his unprocessed grief and regret

you recognize his need for space, but understand the importance of gentle reassurance and are always there to lend a shoulder to cry on

John sat on the edge of your shared bed, his head hung in his hands. His mind was filled with memories of the past and words left unsaid. Tears welled up in his eyes as he wrestled with feelings of isolation and regret, mentally beating himself up over things he'd said or done- things he knew he couldn't change but nonetheless couldn't let go.

You had noticed John's uncharacteristically withdrawn behavior and already sensed something wasn't right, quietly entering the room to check on him. Drawn by the heaviness in John's demeanor, you approached and sat beside him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a wordless gesture of support.

Your presence alone was enough to comfort him, but though you didn't need to say anything, you felt compelled to nonetheless. You gently coaxed him out of his shell with soft words and comforting touches, reassuring him that it's okay to be vulnerable

"I'm here for you, John." you whispered, and that alone was enough for the dam to break as tears began to roll down his cheeks. In the silence of the room, you held him close for as long as he needed, allowing him to release his pent-up emotions in the safety of your embrace.

Paul

Paul wears his heart on his sleeve, becoming visibly and obviously emotional when upset

interpersonal conflicts and creative challenges tend to get the better of him, and he often feels misunderstood by others

he is rather sensitive to criticism and often takes negative feedback to heart, especially when it comes to his work

you offer him a warm embrace and someone to lean on, showering him with praise and reminding him of his incredible talents

Paul sat at his piano surrounded by crumpled scraps of paper, staring out the window and lost deep in thought. He felt completely and utterly stuck, overwhelmed by his cluttered mind and unable to find inspiration for his next song. Frustration bubbled him inside of him, and tears of frustration pricked at the corners of his green doe eyes.

Noticing his extended absence, you entered the room and called out for his attention. "Paulie? Are you alright in here?" Met with the sight of Paul sat at his piano, surrounded by paper scraps, eyes watery and lip quivering, you immediately realized what was happening in his mind.

You walked over and sat beside him, gently placing your hands atop his. You guided them to the keys, starting with a soft and simple tune and encouraging him to follow your lead.

As you played around with notes and tunes, the weight of Paul's perfectionism lifted and he found reprieve from his oppressive thoughts, finally beginning to relax. The freedom and joy you brought to his work renewed his creative spark and the two of you spent hours creating beautiful melodies, playing for a perfect audience of two.

George

George becomes even more quiet and contemplative when upset, retreating into his own thoughts and emotions and becoming withdrawn

he carries with him a lingering sense of existential crisis and often struggles with feeling disconnected from his purpose

you're always there to offer words of wisdom and a new perspective just as he does for you, helping him find peace and reconnect with what matters most to him

George sat cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom, photographs and mementos from his past scattered around him. As strong as he is, he had been holding onto these feelings for too long, avoiding the painful process of reflection. Each image brought back a flood of bittersweet memories, and tears stained his cheeks as he mourned the passage of time. He began to ponder further, sending himself spiraling and becoming overwhelmed by the swirling thoughts occupying his mind.

Looking up from your place on the bed, you could instantly tell something was amiss. You slowly stood and walked over to George, taking a seat beside him on the floor and wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. After a few moments of peaceful silence, you pointed to one of the more joyful photographs.

"Why don't you tell me the story behind this one?" you suggested, and George obliged. Throughout the evening, you and George remained huddled together on the floor as he detailed every precious memory captured in the keepsakes and photos.

When it was finally time to wind down for bed, George found himself feeling noticeably lighter, and endlessly grateful to have you in his life.

Ringo

Ringo's optimistic outlook can become bogged down by self-doubt, feeling inadequate in his talents or insecure about his place in the world

he masks his emotions with humor, cracking jokes even when he's feeling down and deflecting his sadness with laughter

despite his best efforts, you see through his facade and know just when he's in need of a little extra praise

through your unwavering support, you always help to lift his spirits and restore his confidence

Ringo sat alone in his dressing room, trembling with nerves before a big performance. He felt overwhelmed by the pressures of fame and the constant scrutiny of the public eye. The pressure of the spotlight felt suffocating and doubt crept into his mind, tears threatening to spill over as he fought to control his anxiety. He found himself feeling utterly terrified and frozen in place, longing only for a moment of peace and understanding.

Sensing his distress, you knocked softly on the door before entering with a sympathetic smile on your face. You walked over and knelt beside him, helping him lace up his boots. He watched you intently, admiring your thoughtfulness and focusing on your precise movements to distract his racing mind.

When you'd finished the job, you placed a gentle hand on his clothed thigh and gave a supportive squeeze. "You've got this, Ritchie. Knock 'em dead," you reassured, following up with a kiss on the cheek.

With your encouragement, Ringo took a deep breath and found the strength to leave the dressing room with his head held high, ready to give it his all.

[jujupeeter]

yan!hunter x reader

"You escape me, I'll leave you alone." His taunting voice whispers in your ear. You could practically hear him grinning as he unties the ropes that tied your arms and legs behind you. "I catch you? Sweetheart, you're mine forever." That nauseating nickname again, your kidnapper grips your chin, turning your face towards him and gives you a quick kiss.

"For good luck." He winks as he finally lets you get up from the forest floor. He had driven you out here because he loves the challenge. You didn't care, you were willing to take any chance to escape from his suffocating love. Or whatever his sick perspective of 'love' was.

You don't take any chances as you speed off, leaving the man in the dust. His laughs in the background haunt you even as the distance between you and him widen. It's maniacal and unhinged, he loves every single fucking bit of this. You're his poor little prey and he couldn't wait to hunt you down.

Fuck him. You winced as your bare feet padded the damp, he forced you to run from him without any shoes on. In the forest. Stepping on a particularly sharp branch, you stifled a pained yelp as you hopped in pain. Fuck. Him.

You finally decide that it was far enough, if your exhausted panting wasn't obvious enough, you had been running for way too long. You could barely see nor hear the man, so resting for a little while couldn't hurt. Right?

You slump against a tree, sweat had been dripping down your forehead. You wipe it away and took a breath, this could finally be your escape. This wasn't the first time you had tried to escape, all your other attempts clearly proved to be fruitless as this was your only way to escape him.

With no way to tell the time, you could only hope and pray that he was going to give up. Which would never happen, you slowly realize.

Any sense of peace you felt quickly washed away as you heard the familiar thumps of his boots. They were heavy against the forest floor. He wasn't trying to be stealthy nor was he trying to hide where he was, he wanted you to be scared. It would be all the more satisfying to see the hope drain from your face as you realize that he was never going to let you out of his sight. It was oh so naive of you to even entertain the idea of escaping him.

It was an immediate reaction. You started to tremble in pure terror as you pressed yourself against the tree, hoping that it would swallow you whole. You could hear his ill-hidden laughter, he knew where you were.

He had found you.

"Oh, you made it so easy for me darlin'. " He sighed, almost wistfully. "Did you want me to find you? Is this what love is? Fuck, you drive me crazy."

He tilted his head as you slowly turned around. He fucking found you.

"There it is., He crouched down to your level, taking your shaking hand into his. "The fear. It's so addicting." He gently kissed the back of your hand, he then took your hand and pushed it against his cheek making it as if you were holding his face, like he did so many times.

"You're mine forever."

[marchsfreakshow]

Desperate Pain [James Patrick March]

Uhh,,,,idk this time lol

James saw someone flirt with you. He thinks that since you looked at the man, you were flirting back.

Idk what this is but @coentinim gave me the idea. With some things from @briaroftheroses too<33

18+!! Just because. MINORS DNI.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Hands desperately tugging behind your back, despite being tied up strongly. And little pleas, crys and whimpers escaping you. "please James, i didn't even say anything to him.."

Oh no, that's not good enough though is it? He's not giving into your desperate cries. Instead he's carrying on his job, making sure this absolutely dreadful man knows what he's done to you. "You see, this, beautiful angel, is in fact, mine." The words beautiful angel dripped with exaggeration, but you knew it to be true. James was simply obsessed with you and your beauty.

The man, simply just asked if you were single and how a pretty thing like you was sat alone at a bar. All you did was look at him! You shot him one single look. A deadpan, neutral face. Now he was pathetically crying, yelling out. His fat being cut, his hands being burned to a crisp.

James knew he couldn't have that. He couldn't have you away from him. You even acknowledged this desperate man? Such a harlot. Do you even love James? Do you even want to keep your promise of being his? He's asking these questions quietly to the half dead, man holding up a knife to the idiot's cock. Just a little cut wouldn't hurt. One slice through the middle. So he really wouldn't hurt your precious cunt. That was his property, only for him to ruin and destroy.

"see what you've done my pretty little harlot? You hurt me so dear." Another desperate whimper left you as he dragged the used knife under your chin. Watery and begging eyes up at him, just wanting to apologise. Such an adorable sight weren't you? Squirming around on the bed as your legs and arms were bound by his bloodied ropes, just wanting to get up and stop James. "I don't think it's fair that he gets it all and you get away free hm?" Oh no. What was it he was planning? Whatever it was, tears were threatening to escape you, making your vision blurred.

James chuckled as he watched you move around on the edge of the bed. "I will not be touching you, anywhere until you have learned your lesson." He whispered right by your ear, even refraining from lightly tracing that cute jaw of yours. "Find other means of pleasure until I say so my dear." You suppressed a sad groan. Your own pleasure was the worst. How on earth could you do that when James can fuck you so good at a moments notice? He'd drop anything if you were desperate enough.

A whimper escaped the two of you out of the seemingly, erotic, eye contact. James' head whipped around to flirting man.

Shot after shot. Bang after bang. Two holes now in the half dead man's heart. If he wasn't dead before, he was dead now. Back to your crying face. The bloody knife still in hand. "how else to make you learn your lesson?" He questioned rehtorically. If it was up to you, you'd let him fuck the idea into your empty head. Getting it through that small, thoughtless head of yours that you. Are. His. Forever.

So, your trousers were ripped off. Discarded on the floor somewhere, and a warm breath on your thighs. He was just torturing a man, why were you so turned on? "Ow..ow, fuck!" You squealed. James' bloody knife in your inner thigh, carving his initials. A raggedy 'JPM' as a way to mark his property. Drops of blood trickling down your thigh, onto the bed. It took every ounce of self control in the ghostly killer to not lick up the irony tasting liquid. He had to keep to his promise. Not touching you, not for a while anyway. So he left it to bleed.

Leaving it to bleed as he worked his way up to your exposed, veiny neck. A J there, P right in the middle and a sweet little M to finish the job. No one could deny that you were his now.

"There. Now, you. Are. Mine. Dangerous bird aren't you?" He chuckled at your dying body. You'd come crawling as a ghost, so he knew not to be upset.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

[pixiefelixie]

Home, Sweet, Home

pairing — idolbf!bangchan x f!reader

word count — drabble ∼900 words

warnings — she/her reader, fluff!!

summary — In a surprise visit to Bang Chan's studio, you accidentally appeared on his Instagram livestream. Bang Chan tries his best not show that you're there but obviously he's too whipped for you.

You scanned your keycard and unlocked the main door to JYP Entertainment. You made your way into the elevator as it hummed and moved upward. When the doors opened, you walked down the hallway, stopping at Bang Chan's studio.

Right after you knocked, the door swung open, revealing Bang Chan's surprised expression. He immediately gestured towards the camera, telling you he was doing an Instagram livestream. It was clear that you had caught him off guard, unintentionally making an appearance.

As Bang Chan regained his composure, he sat back down and quickly addressed the online audience, "Hey everyone, it was just Changbin popping in for a quick chat." A playful and knowing smile accompanied his words, aimed at reassuring his fans.

Silently, you moved towards a seat beside Bang Chan's desk, carefully choosing a spot that remained out of view from the camera. Chan subtly shifted his chair forward, edging closer to the desk as you exchanged a rapid glance. He slipped his hand discreetly under the table, extending his arm to rest his hand on your leg.

As Bang Chan continued engaging with the fans during the livestream, he occasionally turned his gaze towards you, allowing it to linger for a few moments. A warm, genuine smile accompanied this glance.

You joined the livestream to witness the interaction from the fans' perspective and look at comments. Looking at them made your eyes light up. Some were quick to notice Bang Chan's glances and smiles.

"He keeps looking off to the side. Who's there?""Is there someone with Bang Chan?""Bang Chan, is there a surprise guest with you today?""The way he smiles and looks to the side... there's definitely something going on"

It was clear that the audience was observant and deeply invested in Bang Chan's livestream. Meanwhile, Bang Chan thought he maintained the mystery.

Your eyes flickered up to Bang Chan, who looked back at you confused, likely because you seemed nervous. You gave him a reminder for him to be discreet and not draw attention to you. 

"Stop being so obvious" you mouthed silently.

He couldn't get the message, so he leaned forward, asking with a loud "Huh?" which made you facepalm at his stupidity. Meanwhile, Bang Chan, realizing what he had done, jumped in shock at his loud response.

"The staff is being silly," Bang Chan chuckled, quickly coming up with a cover to explain what had happened. He hoped that his laughter reassured the fans that everything was under control and that it was just a playful misunderstanding.

To avoid any more mistakes, Bang Chan pretended to check the time. "I think we'll wrap up for today," he announced with a friendly tone. "It was nice having an evening live with you guys! Bye bye!" He clicked his phone and ended the livestream, giving the Stays a cheerful send-off.

Bang Chan quickly shifted his attention towards you and buried his face in your lap, pretending to cry and yelled, "I'm so stupid." while he rubbed his face into your legs.

"You really are!" you laughed and ruffled his curly hair. "Next time you're doing this, let me know so I don't accidentally interrupt. I checked the comments and did you have any clue that they were suspecting something?"

Bang Chan looked up with his mouth wide open and responded, "I had a feeling they would've be curious, but I didn't expect it to become a game of 'guess who' during the livestream!" He wrapped his arms around you, showing a pout. "I'm so going to get fired," he exaggerated.

You chuckled and reassured him, "You're fine, Chan. You handled it like a pro"

"Did I, though?" He lifted an eyebrow, and you looked away from him.

"Yes, now let's go home. Get your stuff ready," you said to change the subject.

As you spoke, Bang Chan sat up, still wearing a mock expression of distress. "Fine, fine," he sighed dramatically, standing up and collecting his things. "But you owe me for saving the day!"

You both exited the studio, making your way through the hallway and back towards the elevator. Bang Chan continued to playfully grumble about the unexpected turn of events, but there was a lightness in his demeanor, and it was clear he found the whole situation amusing.

As you waited for the elevator, Bang Chan leaned in and whispered, "You know, I could get used to surprise visits during livestreams. It adds a bit of excitement, don't you think?"

You chuckled and shook your head, "Let's not make a habit out of it. We don't want fans thinking about it every time you go live."

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped inside. Bang Chan pressed the button for the ground floor, and as the doors closed, he grinned. "Fair enough. But it was kind of fun, wasn't it?"

"So now, you think it was fun. What happened to getting fired?" you replied, playfully which made him zip his mouth.

The elevator descended, and you soon found yourselves back in the lobby of JYP Entertainment. You exchanged goodbyes with a wave to the security staff, and you stepped out onto the bustling streets of Seoul. You found your car and went into a driver's seat. Chan hopped in as you turned on the engine. 

Chan wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "Home, sweet home!" he exclaimed as you chuckled and drove away from JYP Entertainment.