#I'm probably in my tired but loving girls era | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

valuunit · 5 months ago

Text

after midnight

summary: some steamy sex after dancing at the club with harry in his frat era.

title because im obsessed with chapelle roan, as you should

Content: She/her pronouns. smut (mdi), alcohol consumption, hair pulling, using a tie as a way to muffle sound ;), oral (m receiver), finguer fucking, clothed sex?, oh, a photo taken during sex, this oc is really stupid and horny, don’t show you’re face in an explicit pic of yourself wit someone new. that’s it ig :)

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if there’s any mistake I'm sorry, please let me know so i can correct it :D

y/n

why did i agree to this? jesus, this is the shitiest-

“y/n, my miracle is here!” the strong mature voice of Patricia sends shivers down my spine.

“hi” i quietly say, accepting her hug.

“here, i want you to met someone.”

fuck. social interaction.

i’m so so tired for this, i just want to pet my beautiful dog and sleep cuddling with him.

“Michael! here she is, y/n, y/n that’s Michael Young, owner of the record label i told you.” she whispers the last bit. my attitude automatically changes, another rich man who wants more money.

a very well preserved old man turns around, he’s like the definition of daddy if i were attracted to him, he gives me a gentle handshake. “nice to meet you miss, i’ve heard great things about you.”

“thanks, it’s very nice to meet you too.” after that he kisses Patricia’s cheek and excuses himself, promising to get back a little later.

“well, that didn’t go as planned.”

i chuckled. “maybe in a bit will go better, he said he was coming back”

“that’s the equivalent of a guys promising you he’s calling you back after fucking.”

“oh, then forget about it, let’s drink!” i smile eyeing the open bar.

“you do you, honey, i’ll be here if you need me.”

“okay mother, thanks.” i love that woman even if she’s in my monthly payroll.

“love ya.”

i pass some people, looking for the edge of the bar, and fortunately it was empty. “hi, can i take an old fashioned, please?” the bar tender nodded. life like this is kinda good.

harry

“that girl, she’s fit.” louis said.

oh i know lou, i’ve been watching her since she stepped in the club.

“who?” niall said genuinely curious to look at a cute girl.

“there, in the leather jacket at the edge of the table.” louis kept trying to get a better look at her.

“you should go talk to her.” niall says after also looking.

“i think that harry’s job here, he’s been drooling here for her.”

“what?, no, i didn’t even saw her before you mentioned her.” you fucking liar. you even know her name and music.

“okay, then i’ll take the word from nialler here and go count that lady.” you’re a good player louis, but not the best.

he’s testing me to push myself to go there.

“no, not at all.” i simply reply.

“ehh! louis, louis, louis!” niall cheers.

and there he goes, confident steps but playing with his hands.

y/n

i feel a pair of eyes on my back, i try not to think to much about it, i’m here to enjoy myself not to pay attention for others.

“hi” a particular voice says.

i don’t reply, maybe it’s not for me, i don’t want to embarrass me.

“hey, you like it old fashioned?, you’re like a dad?” okay, maybe that is for me.

“yeah, i probably have someone pregnant rounding around the world. i’m at that stage of my life.” i simply replied.

they laughed “i might like you. i’m louis, nice to meet ya”

“hi, y/n” this is louis tomlinson, one of the most famous boys at the moment. if this was happening a couple of years ago i would probably pass out, but i’ve slowly realized that doesn’t matter you ‘status’, you should be treated as kindly and respectful as anyone.

“aren’t you going to invite me a drink?” he says offended, playin, obviously.

“yeah, because i’m the one who approached” i said smiling. “what would you like? it’s on me.”

“oh, becoming my sugar mommy, i get it. i’ll get a shot, tequila.”

“yeah, the free aspect does play a roll here.” he laughs again and looks to where he came from. “four shots of tequila please, extra lime.”

“two rounds, i for sure like you now.” he immediately takes one of the caballito, waiting for me.

“i was just hopping you’d get pleased with that and leave.” i also take one, he hums and aproches for slice of lime.

“damn, that’s tough, if you want me to leave you’re not going to achieve it giving me drinks.” he talks quickly, then proceeds to cheer and gut down the little but dangerous liquid. i follow.

“oof, party animal, aren’t ya?” a deep and also british voice comes in.

“harry!, your finally came, i thought i was gonna stay here all night mate.” he looks at me “not that i would mind”

i completely turn around to look at a curly haired guy, he’s also really handsome, and how not? he’s harry styles.

“ah, yeah, thanks man, see you?” his confused comment makes me laugh.

“yeah, whatever you say. it was really nice to meet you, y/n, hope we can finish this round one day.” he pats the back of his friend and gets out. damn, what the fuck.

“am, i’m really sorry ‘bout that, i’m harry though, you’re y/n?”

“yeah, no it’s fine, if you want you can finish the shots with me?” i say also confused, he looks so nervous and i don’t know why, i'm not that scary am i?

“sure, thanks.” and it becomes silent. well, the conversation with louis was better, that’s for sure.

we swallow the drinks and when i reach out for the fruit i find his hands in the same one i was about to grab, i quickly change my election, and he does as well, i laugh at the awkwardness. he smiles at that.

“i heard your album. it’s amazing.”

“what? you’ve heard my album.” a say fascinated while sucking the last bit of sour liquid.

“what? are you surprised i listen to good music?” he smiled and smooths his chin.

“i wouldn’t say that, i just thought it didn’t reached that many people for you to listen to it.”

“what do you mean? it’s hit after hit, it’s really popular.”

“well, i don’t often look at the logistics of it. but thanks, i wasn’t really sure about it, nor my record label i almost got dropped.”

“well, they’re losers, it’s great.” he smiles and i also do, it’s really nice to heard that from someone who doesn’t know me, it feels genuine.

“i feel like i have to return the compliment but i haven’t heard 1D in like one year, ahm, i really love c’mon c’mon.” he and i laugh.

“yeah, i don’t blame you.” he suddenly looks uncomfortable.

“i’m really sorry.” i try to read his eyes, he was looking at a light above, but now his eyes are back on mine, he doesn’t look as happy as some people seem when they talk about something the love, like music. “you’re not satisfied, are you?”

“you could say that in a lot of aspects.” he smirks.

“okay, i don’t wanna hear it.” i say laughing nervously.

“let’s not talk about this depressing stuff. wanna dance?”

“sure, i’d love to.”

he takes my hand to make sure i don’t get lost in the crowd, he pauses for a second to give louis a warning look when he makes quiet wolf whistles.

“he’s an idiot, sorry.”

“i figured, no problem.”

promiscuous is blasting across the club, this song is sexy and i’m with a sexy guy, i must be a little sexy.

i’m against his chest, the room between our bodies is none, and the space we have to dance is limited, but we can make it work.

i see him starting to sway his shoulders first, trying to get used to the beat. i put my arms on his obliques, also starting to sway my hips, looking at his chest tattoos.

his hands go under my leather jacket and stay in between my hips and my waist, following me. i hear him pant, his mouth is slightly parted and his forehead falls to mine.

“can i take this?” he grabs the tie that hangs loosely in my neck, trying to distract himself for the erection i feel near my left hip.

“sure” we separate out heads and he puts it around his neck, the red looks good on him.

harry

she’s the hottest, most gorgeous person i’ve met.

her lips are as bright as the tie i just grabbed from her beautiful neck, i really want to kiss her. but maybe she’s not into me in that way.

“fuck, how are you so hard, a minute has hardly passed” her voice is deeper than before. i feel slightly embarrassed, but also no.

“that’s the reaction my body has with you.” i say honestly. some say that fake it till you make it, and that what i’m gonna do, fake confidence, maybe it’ll let me somewhere good.

she hums and looks at me in the eyes, to the lips and back at my eyes, with a bright smile and a dark look.

she grabs the tie, pulling me to her, we’re centimeters apart. when i’m about to kiss her she speaks.

“may i kiss you?” she whispers. this might be the hottest thing she’s done so far, or maybe the tie thing it’s.

“of fucking course.”

y/n

this kiss is as alex turner would say, were teeth collide.

is desperate, full of the sexual tension we’ve managed to build, and i couldn’t want it any other way.

we dance, grind, kiss and even moan, at least me, for what seems like the entire night, but when we take our make out session to the back of the building it seems like it barely 12 in the morning.

“jesus, love, i would love to take you home.” he says between wet neck kisses, all i reply is a fervent nod.

after that i feel his warm and big hand on my cheek, making me look at him, then is when i reply with actual words. “we can go back to my place, it not far and it’s alone.” i smile.

“you sure?”

“yeah, if you want.” he smiles and pecks my lips, i don’t know why his hand here makes me wanna melt against it.

“of course, love. it’s better than a shared hotel room.”

“yeah, probably.”

we decide to walk, it’s like i said not far away. the walk was definitely less heated, but it was something.

he asked if he could borrow my purse or my jacket to hide his boner, i laughed so much at that. but the outfit ended up amazingly on him, with the red tie and the also red small bag in his hands contrasting with his all black base.

as soon as i get home blake jumps, almost to the height of my head.

“i’m sorry, honey, i had somewhere to be.”

i think this might kill the mood, maybe not.

“who is this little bud?” harry asked when blake started sniffing his legs. i hang my jacket on a chair and take my purse from harry’s hand, leaving it in the same spot.

“blake, i hope he doesn’t bother you.”

“what, how could he.” he kneeled petting his puffy black hair. “right bud?, you’re adorable” blake turned into his back, to get some love in his belly.

okay, this is really cute, i feel bad for getting wet at the sight of him like this, being sweet to my dog.

“want a drink?, water, vodka, tequila?”

“no, i’m fine. i would prefer to get back were we left it.” blake has lost his interest on him and went to his bed.

“okay, you can go to my room, i’ll be there in a minute.” he looks around the house looking for the destination, “upstairs.” he nods and heads up. “blake. i have some… stuff to do, so please don’t cockblock me, please love, you’ll get a lot of treats tomorrow.” his ears move when he hears ‘treats’.

i grab a cushion from the couch and put it at the beginning of the stairs, hoping he can’t jump over it. “love ya, i’m really sorry if you hear something!” i whisper-scream.

getting near the door i smooth my skirt out and take may hair out of my face.

when i enter harry is sitting at the edge of my bed, he’s cheeks look very red now that i see them in a different light. i smile at him and he smiles at me.

“you look great in red. in your cheeks and my tie” i whisper as i sit in his lap.

“thanks, i might borrow it for another day.”

“you’re still, you know, hard?” i say almost laughing at how cringe that sounded to me.

“you’re wet?” he says. i nod, desperate to kiss him. “perfect.”

his hands crawls up my knee, ass and thigh, reaching my underwear, which was very much soaked.

“i feel flattered, love, i haven’t touched you and look at this” he makes me stand in my knees and slides my panties down my legs, finally showing the mess i made. “we’re gonna keep the skirt if that’s fine with you” i nod and he kisses me.

as soon as the kisses starts it becomes a kiss full of passion. he undoes my white shirt and i do the same with his black shirt.

he’s now laying down, his legs hanging from the bed and im right in top of him, my core against his belt, which feels weird in a good way.

i moan when he sits down, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it backwards. “your really pretty when you’re all flustered.”

he slides the shirt down my shoulders and for my bralette he slides it upwards, passing through my head.

“i feel like you have an advantage here.” i look down his opened shirt and pants, hell, he even has his shoes on.

“take whatever you want.” he smiles and kisses the in middle of my breasts.

i hug his neck with both of my arms, letting him please me with his kisses and bites in my chest.

he pays equal attention to both, i think he gave the same amount of bites to each, i don’t know, i was enjoying myself to much to care.

when i fell his mouth starting to separate from me i begin to go down his body, taking the tie and the shirt off, kissing his shoulder, chest, stomach and his boner from above the denim material.

he groans desperately but doesn’t move, just seats there with his hands on each side of his body. “you’re really a tease, baby.” he whispers.

“i think it will be worth it.” i say, quickly undoing his jeans and sliding off his boxer, leaving his cock free.

i think of what to do for a second, i could do a handjob or a blowjob, i finally decide in a hybrid.

i first take his length in my right hand, slowly feeling his body react, his legs move a bit and his body leans back. i then start to move down, making my eyes align with his crotch, and with my hand still in the base i start by wrapping my mouth at the tip. his makes a beautiful sharp gasp.

“god’s fucking sake.” he decides to look down at me, looking deep into my eyes.

harry

her eyes are gonna be the death of me. she can look evil but also innocent. and that makes me want to take her right now and leave her dumb fucked.

my dick disappears in her mouth, over and over again, i don’t know how she manages to keep a consistent move in her hands and in her mouth, including her tongue and her head. the guitar must help her multitasking abilities.

“love, t-that s-sss amazing. ah, but i w-won’t last a lot longerr and i will like to do sooo… much m-more with y-ya…”

she gets my dick out of her mouth, god that’s so dirty, an i love it. but yeah, she does so, chuckling a bit with a sense of pride, some drool goes down her chin, she’s perfect.

“okay, next time i guess.” fuck yeah, hopefully.

“now it’s my turn” she come back up, sitting her naked clit into my semi, this little minx jumped into my dick, and she knows it, she smiles.

“sorry.”

“you’re not.” i smile.

“no, i’m not.” she smiles.

“but you will.” i grab her hips from under the washed denim mini skirt and switched our position, leaving her laying down on her chest and me above her, looking at the greatest fucking view; her face was looking at me over her shoulder, he naked back and her skirt rolled up, leaving nothing to the imagination, her ass was in perfect alignment with my eyes.

i decided to be a little wild and spank her, she moaned, but i quickly turned to look at her “was that okay?”

“yeah… fucking perfect.” she moaned more.

“who would’ve thought…” i say, giving her another one, this one harder, making her cheeks giggle.

i pull her skirt even further, and also pulled from her hips to make her stick her ass up, giving me better access to her clit. i begin caressing her outer lips, soft touches to get her desperate and my fingers getting lubricated.

i inserted one of them, the ring finger to be specific. she moans softly, pushing her hips back. “more…”

“patience, love, want to cherish the moment.” but i do what she says, i enter another and begin to diversify my movements. when i get to a specific and wet point i feel her body shake.

“t-t… there.” she sighs “right therrre.” she purrs.

she looks so angelic like this: baby hairs stick to her sweaty forehead, eyes closed, mouth open full or profane sounds, i also see her stimulating her breasts, just like she could read my mind.

when i put my third finger in i feel her lips stretch, so i turn my hand, she screams at my move. “shh… we don’t want to scare blake, or anyone for that matter. would hate for someone to interrupt, right?”

“mhm” she opens her eyes, they are watering now, i don’t know whether to worry or to be turned on.

“everything okay there, baby?” i ask pulling her hair to the side to look at her fully.

“gr-great!” she sights when i touch her newly founded button.

i feel some more palpitating, some more stretching and i see her jaw being clenched. she’s close.

“you’re getting there, aren’t you?”

“yess! i’m goo…” sight “gonna cum.” her hips push against my hand, i took my index finger out because it felt like i couldn’t move my hand at all.

“patience baby, let it all out” i groan at her cunt stretching around my hand.

she screams my name, might be my new favorite sound of all time. it’s a mix of a hoarse and sweet voice.

she stops moving her hips i see a bit of liquid being thrown against my still moving hand, she squirted. i try really hard not to cum also.

she pants and groans. one hand reaches to mine, telling me to stop.

“good job, love” i slowly take my hand up and taste her discard. i then lean to kiss her cheek.

“want you inside of me” she whispers against the mattress.

“of course baby, just waiting for you to catch your breath at least.” i chuckle. she pouts but stays still.

“i’m fine. i just want you to fuck me.” she looks at me undress completely. biting her lip as she check me out.

“ouch, wouldn’t thought you’ll just use me like that, love, thought this was real.” i say jokingly offended and also a bit nervous. maybe this is just a one night thing, and i wouldn’t like it to end like this.

“maybe it is, but i would really like you to fuck me good so i can consider you as a potential candidate.”

nice answer, miss y/n.

“fine, firstly, do you have any condoms?” she sakes her head no.

“i’ve got iud and clean. if you’re up and clean we can make it raw.” she says nonchalantly.

“fucking hell” i go to kiss her mouth, gripping her cheek harshly, “i’ll make you scream really loud, so i think we could put this to some more use”, i say taking the tie from the floor.

she smiles, curious. i hover over her body again, pass the tie through her head to stop at her mouth, tightening it.

“wow” she barely says.

“you can grip me at the arm of you want to stop, okay?” she nods. “show me” she takes my forearm and tightens her grip around it two times. “good girl.” i kiss her cheek again.

i look down, she still has that fucking skirt i hope every time she uses it she remembers who fucked her in that, i direct my dick into her clit. i soak my tip into her cum and wetness.

and finally i enter, our mouth open at the contact, i thrust slowly and fully, i stay there “goodness, this is g-ood.” i whisper in her ear, she moans quietly.

“look at me angel.” she deserves the nickname. i could take a picture of this obscene and artistic piece. “can i take a picture?, i promise ill protect it with my life…”

she hesitates a bit, but when she looks at me in the eyes she nods “yeah”.

i lean over to the bedside table, take my phone and quickly snap one time.

“move?” she says.

“as you wish.” i let my phone slide off my hand and focused solely on her.

i put one hand next to her face , the other went to her hip. giving me the base i need to get her good.

my hips roll against hers, looking at her face to her ass and back and forth.

i quickly gain a fast, hard and pleasing pace.

she hides her face into the pillow and grips the bedsheets tightly. her muffled moans and screams, my groans and screams and the sound of our bodies colliding is the only sound i listen to, and maybe in a 1 mile radius.

“doing good, l-love?” i ask her, my breathing is shaky, maybe not that sexy.

“mhm.” she turn her face to look at me “y-yesh…”

“look so fricking good like this…” i wished i could look at her full face.

she screams something that sounds like my name, and i know i need to she her climaxing around my dick.

“we’re g-gonna turn…” groan “you around, ‘right?”

“yeahyeahyeah” she said.

“h-hug, hug your leg darling.” i pat her left leg , she struggles a bit but makes it. with the force i have i turn her almost limb body.

she moans when her back hits the mattress and i thrust into her faster, while kissing her face, she entangles both her hands in my hair, pulling. fuck.

“hmm. c-c… cum!” she sights into my neck.

thanks love, i wouldn’t like to burst before you.

“perfect. relax, baby…” i groan, struggling to keep that fast of a pace, she’s squeezing my dick so hard and i might come way too fast.

“ha… haffy!” she screams again.

“i’m cu��ming love.”

i feel her groaning at the overstimulation, so i give a final thrust and let it all out.

y/n

i’ve been talking with harry for probably 30 minutes, after last night fucking midblowing fuck i barely was awake, but harry made me change into some pajamas and then he changed the bedsheets. it was the best aftercare ever.

“would you like to go for a coffee later in the evening?” he says looking at me with his beautiful green eyes.

“yeah, as long as blake can come.” i say jokingly.

“of course, love, little man is always welcome.”

“see? that’s what makes me want you every day and every night!” i hit his chest lightly, he chuckles. “you can’t say shit like that, i’ll get attached.”

“is that something wrong?” he smiles. “i also want you, i really like you, and it might be too soon, but i would like to get to know you and be something else.”

“i would love that too.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles fic #harry styles x you

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tinycozycomfort · 1 year ago

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rest in the cup of my palms (part one)

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x art student f!reader

chapter one: drawing from life

series masterlist | next chapter

series summary: you went back to school to find out who you are—to make another leap in the hope of self discovery. when you finally find that first glimpse of yourself, it’s in someone else. what happens when the mirror tries to pull you in? or you’re everything joel could’ve hoped to find. he doesn’t let go easily.

chapter summary: ellie volunteers joel to model for a drawing class on campus. you find someone worth dreaming about.

warnings/tags: no outbreak, no use of y/n, (for everything) -> mutual pining!, possessive behavior, smut (w individual tags to come), unnecessary descriptions of joel being beautiful, ellie is joel's daughter, ellie and reader attend the same university but reader is in post-grad, age gap (joel is late 40s, reader is not), alternating pov, slow-ish burn, joel miller wins girl dad of the century via unanimous vote (for this chapter) -> masturbation (f), intense feelings of loneliness, existential rumination

word count: 7.2k

rating: explicit (18+ only! mdni)

A/N: some good ol' work up, necessary to explain the rated r plans i have for them. ive been terrified of writing a series but i'm also tired of editing everything down to be one-shot appropriate, so today we try. im full-swing into my fixation era and on my 'i cant be loved + ive known how to love you for 1,000 lifetimes' bullshit. this fic is as self indulgent as they come, but i hope you can enjoy it! and for those of you willing to trudge through this with me, i love you.

read on ao3

“To photograph people is to violate them, by seeing them as they never see themselves, by having knowledge of them that they can never have; it turns people into objects that can be symbolically possessed.”

Susan Sontag - On Photography

��──────

A halo of hot light falls through the pane of glass above the sink. Joel’s got one eye pinched semi-shut, trying hard to focus on not burning himself while he drains boiling water out of a pot of pasta.

When he woke up this morning, the blinds on every window in the house had been strung up to the lip. He’d barely gotten a hand around one of the strings in the glass frame above the couch before Ellie appeared out of nowhere to literally slap his wrist, ‘I’m drawing’. Still groggy, he tried to challenge her, ‘Do they all have to be open?’, to which she patiently explained—for what she probably feels is the millionth time—that she needed the extra light, and if she had them all open when she started, they’d need to stay that way until she was done.

So he left her to work, knowing she’s got midterms to finish, walking around with his eyes closed until he felt his way back into his bedroom. He came out once for coffee, and not again until dinner. This is their weekend.

Joel spoons out some of the food into bowls, leaving them to stay warm by the stove before he steps into the dining room. He stops himself half-way, hanging back in the archway to give his daughter another minute as the last shreds of strong sunlight start to wane out.

Ellie’s right where he left her: at the table, cross-legged in her chair with an eraser-less pencil held tightly in her fist. She’s hunched over a large pad of paper, the back of it lifted at an angle under a pile of old books and dog-eared tool catalogs. The sketchbook she uses as a reference guide is propped up on the corner of her left knee, leaned against the edge of the table. She rifles between two pages of it, eyeing some of the quick sketches—visual notes, as she puts it—that she took in class to help her navigate the larger, more detailed version with ease. Silent save for her short huffs of breath, she’s concentrated, wrist-corner lifted to not misplace any graphite. Her process is always the same; a little creature of habit.

She’s wearing her headphones, the cord winding dangerously low, threatening to dip into a cup of water she’d placed in the empty triangle between her lap—the same one he’d seen her with six hours ago. She hasn’t even touched it, still full nearly to the brim. He wonders if she’s gotten up at all. The girl works herself a bit too hard, he thinks, always falls head first into whatever project she’s working on, nothing if not like her dad. The corner of his mouth tugs up so tight it hurts. What is he going to do without her?

He just stands there, feet crossed on top of each other and arms in a twist over his chest, and watches her while she’s not looking, knowing she still gets shy sometimes when he catches her like this. She’s the sweetest reminder of everything good Joel’s ever done; another life he’d gladly offer his own for.

It’s always come naturally—to be what someone needs of him—in a way that transcends reward or expectation.

Joel had been his brother’s primary caregiver first, from birth and then well into their adulthood—always around to bail him out of jail or lend him money he didn’t have. Because he cared. Loved him. He couldn’t ever really say it, always had a problem with the wording, but he knew that at least some of what he wanted to explain had come across. He can see it in the way Tommy is with his own family.

His brother has Maria now, and the kids, and seeing how happy Tommy could be in spite of their upbringing was the first time Joel had ever put his priorities into question. Somewhere in all the caring-for he did, he’d forgotten about himself; the possibility of having his own wife and child and home. He’d always ached for that, deep down, but didn’t even know it was an option until he saw it happen. By that point, he wasn’t sure if he could do any of it, or if he even had the time to start. Then came Ellie.

She entered his life when a close friend of Tommy’s had died unexpectedly and no one came forward to claim her, unknowingly giving him a second chance; one he worked to make count. She was tough to crack at first—also like him in that way—but the love had always been there, waiting its turn after all the awkwardness and misunderstanding and adapting before finally showing its face. She’d needed him then, as much as his brother had all those years ago, carrying on the torch of purpose that Joel so feverishly searched for.

He rolls his eyes at himself; he’s been having too many misty-eyed moments about her lately. It’s so unserious, the actuality of it; of being her dad. Going to work and the supermarket and museums, being there to chaperone field-trips and take one-thousand mostly-blurry photos of her graduation. But it’s been everything to him. He’s desperately clung to the five years of her life that she’s shared with him, and he’s so proud to witness it, but he knows she’s getting to a point where she needs to be her own person. He’ll miss her when she’s only home for summers, then only home for Christmas, then only home once in a while—so he holds on to every bit, and tries not to think about what’s next for him.

He walks closer to her, tilting his head to try and steal a glance of what it is she’s working on. He catches a glimpse of the face of a woman, a portrait from shoulders-up. She’s pretty, with a soft and thoughtful expression, looking downward off the side of the pad. From what he could make out between the movements of Ellie’s hand, she even looks a little shy. His daughter rubs at the cheeks and nose of the girl on the paper, imitating the shadow-less areas where light would fall. Joel is mesmerized by the way she creates so effortlessly, like breathing.

Without moving her head, she pulls a tiny white bobble out from her ear, “I know you’re watching me, weirdo.”

Joel laughs, wet and thick in his mouth with the emotion he’s still climbing down from, “Is this how you treat me when I’m trying to feed you?”

She smiles, he can see the fat of her cheek rounding out even from this angle, “You should’ve just said that.”

Ellie leaves her set-up untouched, just getting up and moving down to an empty seat while Joel goes to bring the food out.

She shifts around in her seat, feet folded again on the flat of it, eating too fast—ill-mannered—and it reminds Joel of all the nights they spent at Tommy’s for family dinner, right at the beginning, back when they’d just begun to become close. When she’d push his patience with her behavior to see if he’d say something, to see if he still paid her mind—he always did, still does, “Jesus Christ, kid. Have I taught you nothing?”

She holds back a laugh, mouth full of tomato sauce, “You love it. I’m charming.”

He snorts, the two of them falling into a comfortable quiet for only a few minutes before she breaks it again, “Speaking of how much you love me, I need to ask you for a favor.”

“Oh no,” He jokes, “What now?”

“Remember those drawings I turned in of you last month?” She starts pushing around the last bite of her spaghetti, never a good sign, but he nods anyway for her to continue, “Well my teacher really liked them. And there’s been an issue with finding people to sit for the drawings. Sooo,” she really drags it out, “I signed you up.”

“What do you mean, you signed me up? For what?”

“To model,” Joel’s mouth pops open in an immediate attempt to oppose, but Ellie’s quicker, “Didn’t you say you’d always support me in school?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Joel finishes his plate and then they’re both just clinking their forks against porcelain for a heavy eightnineten seconds before she gives it another shot.

“C’mon, seriously. I’ll get extra credit if you do it,” She lets out a long sigh like she can’t believe she has to explain anything more than that, “My professor teaches a Monday session for the master’s program and they need people. It’s just one time.”

“Ellie. It’s Sunday. How are you gonna tell me this now?”

“Please, you just sit there for, like, two hours while they draw you and you don’t have to talk. That’s two of your favorite things. Three if you consider that you’d be helping me out.” she looks at him with a sticky-sweet smile, eyes crinkled—like she knows she’s getting away with it.

She might be.

“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to do it?” Joel gathers up their plates from the table to carry them into the kitchen. Ellie picks up their still half-full glasses as an excuse to follow him.

“Because we all have class together tomorrow on the other side of campus. Plus, you’re easy to draw and—”

“Hey.”

She ignores the flat look he shoots her, flipping on the sink, “That’s a compliment, by the way. But really, it’s no effort and you’d be getting me into a good place with my professor ‘cause she’ll be super grateful. The budget’s kinda tight this semester.”

“Then what am I payin’ for, if you’re gonna make me do this stuff myself?” It’s a half-hearted dig—he’s mostly annoyed because she probably already figured out he’s going to agree.

Her little smirk graduates to a shit-eating grin, she knows it, “Best dad ever.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

“Just because I knew you were gonna say that, I actually signed you up for two.”

───────

Joel stumbles out of the elevator, filing hurriedly through groups of students with a new-found purpose now that he’s managed to make it to the correct floor. Ellie made a point of not mentioning that he had to be at the school at 7:30am until she was saying goodnight to him a few hours ago, because she thought it would dissuade him—she was right—so now he’s running late on top of everything else.

He’s got the little scaled-down, splotchy-printed version of the campus map gripped tightly between his hands. Room 14B is seemingly only two turns and one corner from where he stands—if he’s holding it the right way. He wants to ask for directions, but he feels too out-of-place to set aside his embarrassment. He’s older than at least half the staff, and some of the attendees are even younger, and he doesn’t want to run the risk of looking incapable, as foolish as it is. He wishes Ellie would have just offered to show him where to go before she headed off to her own class.

For someone who prides themselves on their ability to parent, he feels hopeless now without his daughter; not for the first time, but it’s especially harsh considering the circumstances. It hurts something bittersweet, to think about how much more they’ve bonded since he started working less and she decided to live at home her first year of college (though it’s coming to an end sooner than he’d like). Again, too many sad thoughts, and she’s not here, so he trudges on.

He walks in two more circles before he finds the right place—down a fucking hallway and hidden behind a door he didn’t know he was allowed to open, of course. A woman with long, dark blonde hair is sitting at a desk by the door when he enters. She doesn’t look up at him.

“Good morning, ma’am. Sorry I’m late. My—uh. You teach my daughter? I’m here for—”

“Ellie’s dad,” She cocks her head without meeting his eye, “Late? You’re about twenty minutes early, she told me you probably would be.”

She knows me too well, the brat. He chastises her in his mind but outwardly he corrects himself, “Yes, right, sorry. I’m a little turned around.”

“That’s alright. There’s just a waiver you need to sign, and you can get undressed in the bathroom down the hall. I’ll give you a cover-up to wear until I come to grab you.”

Right, he’d have to be naked. He already knew that—sort-of—having seen dozens of Ellie’s sketches from semesters past. He knows the students don’t see it that way, knows that they’ve all drawn the same things so many times they would be desensitized to his nudity. They’d probably all be desensitized to him as well; in their eyes, he was just a reference, as familiar as any of the memorialized piles of fruit or arrangements of glass that Ellie's also brought home.

Still, Joel feels a wash of anxiety come over him. He’s more than comfortable in his body, after putting it through so much, but this degree of vulnerability is severe in comparison to vanity or sex—it’s a state of living he hasn’t participated in for a long time. He doesn’t like to be seen, and being documented—having physical evidence of how he’s interpreted by others—makes his stomach turn. He hasn’t looked in a mirror for more than a moment in months, but it can’t be that bad, right? Ellie’s always given him a favorable light, but he worries she has a bias beyond belief. What if he sees something about himself he doesn’t like? What if everyone’s been able to see it all along?

Caught in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize the woman is still talking, “We have a scheduled break halfway through class. You can leave then. Next week it’ll flip and you can come for the latter half so they can finish.” She slides the form and a swath of black fabric across the table, and almost like she can sense his apprehension, finally raises her head to give him a meaningful look, “Thank you again for doing this. I know it can feel weird, but it makes a difference for them. There’ll be a joint show at the end of the month, too, with Ellie’s class.”

He just offers her a little nod of his head, thank you, signing the form and padding to the bathroom to unceremoniously disrobe in an empty stall.

It’s just two hours.

───────

If they make you take another figure-drawing class, you’re going to scream.

You’d think this far into a second degree, the school board would stop requiring you to take what is essentially the same class every semester. Sincerely, the only thing that changes is how long the session runs and what number follows the class title. It’s getting old.

To be fair, it’s not necessarily that you dislike drawing—it provides a pretty firm foundation for your personal work to stand on—it’s just tedious. Nothing is inspiring about assignment-based work, especially when they’ve decided the only way you can prove your skill-set is to make you draw the same three objects five-thousand ways.

But it’s not up to you.

So here you are again, two weeks from spring break, back in this frigid building after surviving another forty minutes of traffic, body still stiff from fighting the urge to fall asleep at the wheel.

It’s important, you remind yourself, to show up and put your fullest effort into everything, no matter how much you don’t enjoy it. Even if just to prove to yourself you can still finish things.

Coming back to school was an idea you’d toyed with for years after graduating.

There had been a lot of pressure on you to go in the first place, from your parents and your teachers and your nightmare of an ex, because according to them you’d get nowhere without it. After enough pressure and in a need to appease them, you folded and went; suffered every long night and pushed through every period of self-doubt and smiled for every ‘worth-capturing’ moment right up to the end. And then when it was over, gone faster than you could comprehend, you felt like something was taken away from you, even with how low it had made you—the worst kind of stockholm syndrome.

In an attempt to keep some momentum, you were over-eager for more right out of the gate. There was an initial need to continue, because you’d been reliant on academic structure just by the nature of familiarity, and maybe a little ill-prepared to face who you were without guidance. Without the instruction of someone with two degrees and a smoking addiction and no teaching license. Now it sounds silly, but then you spent a few too many nights uncontrollably looking into post-grad institutions or internship programs, googling professors and reading forums for first-hand accounts.

Then, after a year, the thought of continuing got a little less exciting, and you became comfortable in the freedom of nothing after being in school your whole life. So you pretended to research, emailed everyone about how great the options looked, signed up for one-on-ones you didn’t show up for—until people stopped asking.

It was at that point that you finally had the time to process what you were doing and why, and accepted that you didn’t have to have all the answers, despite what everyone had led you to believe. Truthfully, you still had no idea who you wanted to be and that’s okay—living with it and living alongside it weren’t mutually exclusive. You just took time to practice being yourself—sucked up the embarrassment and did the work, little exercises in unleashing yourself onto the world instead of letting every experience be done to you. If you were going to do anything anymore, even something like continuing your education, it had to be on your own terms, to try it all in the effort of self-discovery.

So yes, applying and getting accepted and attending every class—even this one—this time around was for you—to better yourself instead of just filling an expectation. You’re determined to make good on the opportunity.

And it has been better, so far. You even have friends this time around. Okay, two, and one of them is your roommate, but it's more of a support system than what you had going into undergrad.

You say yes now, too; not to everything, but to more than before. Which is maybe how you got roped into getting ‘introductory’ drinks later this evening with everyone, now that more people have joined the program as winter thaws out and it’s easier to commute. It’ll be nice to swap ideas and catch up and maybe even get laid instead of spending hours staring at the ceiling and willing time to pass. That thought alone is enough to keep you here.

It’s just two hours.

The room this semester is a little bigger, at least; probably the only perk that moving up so gracefully from Drawing II to Drawing III had earned you. It’s still unfortunately just another classroom; windowless to protect it from outside influence and drenched in fluorescent light to create a controlled environment. Old, stained art horses form a circle in the center of the space, crowding around a painted-gray wood pallet like an audience. A metal stool sits atop the make-shift stage, providing a seat for the subject. It’s clinical, the way the elements come together; a perfectly disarrayed scene that’s been neatly curated to emulate every ‘socratic seminar’ model you’ve seen in education since you can remember. Always the same.

You’re hoping for someone new today to rest on the chair; the department has been in less-than-preferred financial standing lately, so you’ve seen the same faces interchanged for most of the term.

Your professor is at her desk when you make your way in, greeting you with a grin despite the tired look on her face. A hardworking woman, the shadows under her eyes gave her a beauty you could only explain as determined. You knew she cross-taught for both sections of the department, and you respected her for it. It couldn’t be anything short of a struggle to toggle between those modes of seriousness—to have the patience to answer the younger students’ unending questions and the passion to keep the post-grads engaged.

Moving to get a seat as far on the outskirts of the cluster as possible, you watch as your classmates arrive slowly until all the slots are filled. No one really talks, probably all similarly bogged down by the early start and the cold weather outside. Ian, your friend who’d invited you out tonight, waves at you from four horses down and you halfheartedly nod back at him.

“Good morning everyone, we’ve only got two more classes after this until your week off, so we’ll make this next one a two-parter and have critique on the twenty-first. I want you guys to focus on composition more than anything else,” She turns in her seat to write some names on the board behind her, “We’ll go for two hours then break. If your name’s up here we’ll have a conversation about your thesis. The rest of you can go.”

Thankfully you’ve been spared this time—granted another seven-nights-straight writing the segment of your thesis that was meant to be finished two months ago. Your brain hurts inside of your skull.

You set up your little station, sketchpad raised against the easel, body straddling the drawing horse as you fiddle with some dirty erasers in your pack.

You can hear the slap slap slap of the model’s feet on the concrete floor as they enter—a long gait paired with hard, thudding steps; probably a man by the sound of it. Tall and heavy.

“Okay guys, we’re starting,” She winds up the dial on a plastic kitchen timer and sets it on the edge of her desk, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be making a few passes throughout and we’ll exchange thoughts.”

You roll your neck, knowing the model tends to take a minute to find a comfortable position, and that people watching didn’t do anything to help. A tempered soundtrack—the poorly contained buzzing of the clock and the moan of the air-conditioning—plays on in the background. Your leg is asleep. It’s cold in here. You count to thirty in your head. That’s enough time, right? You shift again, stretching your arms once more just in case.

Looking up, you peer over the side of the easel to get a quick look at the model’s pose and immediately do a double take.

It is a man.

He’s sitting on the chair, facing the girl a few seats down from you so that you can only see him from a three-quarters view. He has one long, thick leg pushed against the lower bar of the stool, the other one, closest to you, hiked up on the seat, folded so that his knee points towards the ceiling. His arms are crossed, hugging his erect shin with his wide back wrapped over his thigh, effectively shielding the ‘naked’ parts of him from view. He looks shy, but not uncomfortable; either like he’s done this before or he’s accustomed to protecting himself—to hiding.

The frame of his body is captivating; he looks strong but used, little nicks and scars littering his shoulders and hands. Weathered. As you make your way up his torso, you find it’s a similar state of experienced, tan profile and neck bearing the slightest difference in color from the soft of his side, and you can see the faintest curve of a hem-shaped tan-line across the dip in his shoulder. Little wisps of gray-dusted brown curls frame the edges of his face. He’s beautiful in a gentle way, with a dark, heavy brow that leads into the sharp slope of his nose, plush lips pursed like he’s concentrating.

Part of you feels bad about staring, but it’s easy enough to disguise it as working, so you map him with your gaze again and again until you can still see him when you blink. It takes the constant movement of your classmate’s hand sketching something in your periphery to remember you’re being timed.

You choke out a cough, repositioning your body and grabbing some charcoal.

The way you usually approach this task is simple: get down the general gist of the body, careful to keep out the details of the person in favor of capturing light and weight—there’s a graded challenge to be considered, after all.

Yet as you watch him, you decide you can fulfill the requirements in a way that gives him more room to exist. You crop the drawing tighter, paying careful attention to the landscape of his face; the hills of his cheekbones and the valley between his lips. You want to immortalize him.

You’re suddenly deeply concerned with the history that’s woven itself into the shape of him, in what happened to make him look this way. It seems like life has been useful to him, but that he’d had to grow from something to make it so—like he had to work for it. He’s the living manifestation of his own grief and enjoyment and passion, and you want to know all of it.

Countless minutes pass as you take him in and spill him out, fingers moving quickly to recreate the weighted feeling of his posture, exhausted and heavy, muscles held together on the string of bone that runs through the center of his back. You write him down, again and again, flipping to a new page half-way through to get in one last version of him—one for yourself.

You’ve never seen him before, but you see part of yourself in him. He mirrors the anxious peace you’ve been operating under for the last few years, humming with energy but willfully stagnant. It makes you feel seen, less burdened by your recent inability to connect—he makes you want to keep trying.

You wonder if he writes or draws or makes, and if he’d show you. You want to hear him talk. You want to see the other side of him, literally and metaphorically. You want to feel—

The tinny ring of the alarm sounds off, and you’re taken out of the fantasy.

The second drawing is only really half done, but you didn’t make it with the intention of sharing it anyway, so you flip back to the original to hide it..

You try not to watch the man when he stands—remembering that just because he’d been hidden before doesn't mean he wasn't naked the entire time—maybe more for your sake than his. You peek around the room instead, taking a healthy, albeit competitive, glance around for other interpretations of the man; did they see him too, the way you do?

When you look up to take a comparative look, he’s gone. You’re a little disappointed, admittedly, but there’s still one more chance to interact with him, and you can make up for it then. You start to pack up your things in an effort to make it to the parking lot before the crowd. A sudden rise in the volume level in the room tells you that the shock of the early morning has started to burn off. You try to tune it out, so much so that you don’t hear someone walking up behind you.

“Wow.” It’s a man’s voice, deep and smooth. You pivot in your seat.

It’s him, in all his communal-robe wearing glory, even more gorgeous from head on. It’s a pleasant surprise, this reveal; his beauty is evenly distributed, like a handwritten note that extends into the margins or when a movie’s ending is just as good as the start.

“Oh. Hi. Thank you.” You feel exposed, like you got caught doing something bad, even though there are ten other people in the room with even more detailed portraits of him.

“Can I see the other one, too?”

“What?”

“You flipped your page. I didn’t see anyone else do that. Did you make two?”

You just nod, shocked that he was watching you back, peeling back the paper to reveal to him the unfinished drawing. He won’t question it if you don’t give him a reason to.

“Are you gonna finish it?” He asks, eyes rolling over it with an intense curiosity.

“Uh, probably not. I don’t like it as much as the first one.” Maybe lying your way through this would provide better reasoning than ‘I wanted a part of you that no one else could see’.

“Can I have it?”

When you can’t find something to say fast enough, he just continues.

“I’m sorry, is that rude? If you’re just gonna get rid of it, I’ll take it. It just… looks like me. I mean they all do, I’ve been told I have a ‘simple face’,” He coughs awkwardly in acknowledgement of his own tangent, “I just mean to say that it feels a lot like me. If that makes sense.”

“You’re actually very visually interesting.” Is the first thing you can think of, and fuck, did that come out really fucking wrong, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe it’s better if he takes it, if it’ll stop you from fumbling, “But yeah, you can have it.” You pull a little plastic mail-tube out of your bag, ripping the drawing free from its perforated tether and rolling it in on itself.

The edges of his mouth pull up, a cute little thing, free of laughter or judgement, “Thank you. I’m Joel.” One of his hands drapes across his stomach, palm spread over the knot of the wrap—he’s holding himself at length again. Why?

“Hi Joel. You seem to know a fair amount about this whole thing. Not your first time, then?” You offer him your name in return, and he parrots it back—guard still up, still standing too far away.

“It is, actually. The closest I’ve come to this is sitting in the yard for my daughter,” He watches as you slide the drawing into the cylindrical case, “You’re very talented.”

“Thank you.” It feels weird to hear the praise twice, “How’d they get you to pose for no money? I heard the department’s a little strapped. I’ve been subbing in for the undergrads too when I can.”

“My daughter volunteered me, she’s on the other side of the program. Your teacher was giving out extra credit.” He takes the roll when you pass it to him, going out of his way to grab it from the middle, his thumb grazing yours. Your skin heats up where he’s touched it, and you look down at the floor, suddenly nervous.

“Wow, this is the first time I’m hearing anything about that.” You continue to pack away items into your bag, “I’m owed quite a lot if that’s true.”

His face falls in on itself in a wince, “Oh. Didn’t mean to do her in like that.” You can feel him looking at you for a few beats too long, and his eyes narrow like he’s about to say more.

In the same moment, as if summoned, your professor turns on her heel, walking over to your bench.

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay without it. I’ll see you next week, right?”

He shakes a little, releasing his stare, and throws a thumbs up in your direction with his protective hand, “Yeah, see ya next week. Nice to meet you.”

───────

After another four-hour class and a too-long nap and a break for dinner, everyone from this morning joins together in a few cars to head to a bar downtown. You meet up with Ian, who offered to drive as a bargaining chip, because he knows by now that you’d back out if you had to show up on your own.

The bar is dark and divey and perfect for being overly-observant in secret. You’ve warmed up to this crowd enough, but you’re still on plus-one basis with a lot of them, Ian serving as your invitation. You like to just listen to them at first during these outings, strategically planning your involvement so you don’t feel put on the spot when they give you a turn.

It’s a lot like being in class; the group of you occupying a dimly lit corner, a round-table of bodies, with the person in the center alternating as the topic changes. Tonight you stay at the furthest end.

You cling to the single tequila soda you ordered, watery and flat by now with pea-sized ice chips bobbing around in the center to avoid the heat of your fingers. You watch them swim, tipping your cup to see them swirl in a frenzied circle until they disappear.

Some guy from your English class—Andre or Andrew or who cares—is talking at you, making his best attempt at what you think is supposed to be flirting. It’s really just him asking your opinions on his five favorite books, not hiding his disapproval when you mention you haven’t read one or the other.

You watch Ian, who left you twenty minutes ago in search of the bar-top for another drink. He’s caught now on his third conversation on the way back, maybe thinking he’s doing you a favor by taking his time. You try relentlessly to catch his eye instead, and he bounds over without question when he sees you. The glass of wine in his hand is already half empty, and the English-class-guy spooks at the sight of what he probably thinks is competition. So much for that.

“Having fun?” he prods when he slips in the chair beside you, already aware that you are absolutely very much not having fun.

Ian’s a nice guy, and he means well. You met him a week into your first semester—almost a year ago now—at orientation, because your last names were the beginning and end of the line of their respective letters. He was from somewhere in Canada, studying photography with a minor in painting and drawing. He’s maybe a year or two older than you, though you’ve never asked to confirm; tall and long and pretty, for lack of a better word, with big eyes and a permanent split in the little bangs that cover his forehead. He’s the first man in years you’ve been comfortable around, never initiating anything or pushing too hard for your friendship. All in all, no one’s been as welcoming to you, except the person you literally live with, and you’re happy to let him drag you out if it means he’ll continue to look after you the way he does.

“Of course, when have you ever known me to have a bad time?”

“No luck with Adrian?” Adrian. You were close.

“Just likes to hear himself talk, I think. I wasn’t interested in being an audience.”

He hums, “Someone else on your mind?”

“Like who?” You lean the lip of your cup against your mouth.

“Saw you making eyes at the model today,” He teases, nudging you in your rib when you take a sip of your drink so that you keel over slightly. You sputter, unamused with the tactic to get you to fess up.

Was it that obvious?

“Isn’t that the point of the class?”

“Yeah maybe, smartass, but that’s not what I meant. I saw him talking to you, saw you give him a little gift,” He bobs his eyebrows at you suggestively, “Excited for him to come back next week?”

“So I can stare more, you mean?”

“So you can get his number.”

“Ian.”

“I’m just saying you should try and find someone outside our section of the building. No writers, either, obviously.” He gestures to where Adrian is already trying his shtick on some girl from your class.

“He’s a little too old for me, don’t you think? His daughter goes here.” You muse. He’s mostly right about you needing to expand your reach, but you won’t let him off that easily.

“Maybe. But if you don’t care, and he doesn’t care, what’s it matter? He’s not too old to fuck you.” He makes a face and you roll your eyes.

The thought is nice, but you know forging relationships is unlikely when you’re concerned, at least as of late, “I don’t want to spend my night talking about people I’m not going to fuck.”

“Whatever you say.” He slinks out from his seat, mumbling something about a glass of water. A few steps away, he looks back over his shoulder, “You’re not doomed, by the way,” the asshole can read your mind, “You can enjoy yourself without feeling guilty. You’re allowed to like people.”

And then you’re alone again.

It’s like that for another hour, small attempts at chatter and meetings until you realize you’re too tired to fuck anyone, let alone continue to sit upright. Being up so early this morning took more of a toll than an hour nap could fix, and you're begging Ian to take you home. He agrees, spending the trip trying to plan another outing later in the week before everyone’s gone on vacation.

You give him a sleepy goodbye when he pulls into your apartment complex, making sure he’s still going to class tomorrow before letting him drive away. Once you’re inside, slipping quietly in through the front door, you realize your roommate isn’t home. She’s probably still in a late class or at her boyfriend’s or somewhere else. You enjoy the quiet enough to not think about it too hard.

The five sips of tequila-mostly-water has settled into your stomach by now, making you a quarter-second slower when you strip all your clothes off and climb into bed.

You twist under the sheets, and after a while your skin starts to feel too hot, even in the cold air of your room. Breathing deep, you try to think of something boring to get your mind to still, but when you sense the sleep about to take over, it switches.

You see his face behind your eyelids, the man from today, strong and pretty and delicate, remembering all your favorite details—the length of his fingers and the depth of his voice. You curse yourself for assigning this importance to him. He’s just another page in your portfolio, if you even keep him, yet you can feel a slow heat bubble up at your core when you remember the stretch of his body under the robe. It’s okay to be taken with him, you think, he’s objectively gorgeous.

Your conversation with Ian replays in your head—less about his sincere advice and more about how you need to get laid. It’s been too long; maybe you are just horny, and maybe taking care of it just this once could be enough to stop this hollow interest from growing.

You reach a hand down under your blanket, the tips of your digits pushing into the slit of your cunt. You’re wet, arousal tacky and pooled so much that the light pressure you meant to be exploring with is enough to have you accidentally slipping inside. Okay, he’s really hot. So what? Was it really that bad if you thought so?

You dip a finger further in, timid at first; you’re used to keeping quiet for this kind of activity, and even though your roommate was gone when you got here, it doesn’t mean she hadn’t come in in the thirty minutes of rolling around you’d done before giving into your desire. You lay your free hand over your mouth just in case, teeth biting into the meat at the base of your thumb to keep yourself quiet.

You slide in a second finger to the knuckle to join the first, the light stretch of it enough to make you pant. You see him again, hard and soft and beautiful. You think about what his skin would taste like, if he’d let you sink your teeth into the sinew of his neck. It feels weird to know what he looks like without his clothes, and you’re weirdly proud of yourself for holding back from seeing him fully; it's easier to dream about that way. You wonder how he’d present himself to you, how he’d want to fuck you. You imagine him winding a hand around the hinge of your jaw, fingers pressing hard into the soft of your cheeks. Would he be gentle? Would he make it hurt? You suspect either would be too much. You feverishly palm your clit, hips canting in an effort to climax. The pictures flash faster—his cock in your mouth, his tongue in your cunt, the way he’d spit and grip and hold—and you’re coming, drooling over your hand as you hear him say your name in your mind.

You take your hand away after a minute, breath pushing out heavily from your nose. It’s fine, you needed to do it, just one time. No shame in that. It’s out of your system now.

And if you see his face one more time before you fall asleep, it’s probably an afterthought.

───────

By the end of the week, you come to a horrible conclusion.

It starts the next morning when you take your sketchbook out, itching to get a handle on the many writing assignments you’ve been dutifully ignoring, hoping for an outline or a free-flow of ideas. Nothing comes to mind. You draw a little bit to fill the space while you think, just a mess of material on the page, strokes of your hand that leave barely anything behind.

Then on Wednesday you’re at your laptop, typing with one hand while the other one slides against the wood of the dining table, down and around in a loop, mimicking the same shape each time.

And again last night in the shower, letting the shame of a different semi-failed night-out wash over and off of you. You slosh your foot around in the water in the basin below, catching it as it runs down and pools, ankle dragging in a tiny, controlled movement.

It’s not until now that you put it together.

You’re sitting at your desk, with creative materials at your disposal this time, trying to make sense of what it is you’re forming. You find that no matter the medium, your hand automatically makes a single hard line. The same line, from memory. It’s negligible at first, just a light press of pen or pencil or crayon, until it drags down, down, down. It’s not until you lift your utensil that you recognize it. The hook of a nose and the crest of a top lip.

A hard pit forms in your stomach, blood draining from your head to gather in the center of your chest, a blooming sickness of obsession you haven’t felt in a long time. You’re drawing him. You’ve been drawing him. You know this feeling, have participated in this kind of behavior. These are the actions that cause the humiliating dregs of attraction to bleed over into fixation—juvenile and universal and unavoidable. He’s going to be a problem.

#joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fic #joel miller/reader

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zuffer-weird-girl · 11 months ago

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Anon: heyyy girl! How have you been? I must say that your blog, no matter when, is still STUNNING. I follow you since the bazooka squad era lol. Can you pretty please make a request for me about Chisaki? One where he is been howling his ass on his office since pops kinda grounded him with paper work but reader comes and just straight up takes him out... kinda like kidnapping but in a good way?

You smiled kindly at the precept who let you in inside the house and made your way with a happy aura that wasn't quite frequent on the shie hassaikai, but it was sure much like a breath of fresh air.

Although your smiled dropped when you noticed the leader discussing something with some scared precepts before they hurried off when the old man just pointed his finger at the door you just came in with a very stern and rather loud '-now before I change my mind'.

You stepped outside of the way of the precepts and frowned at the elder massaging his temples with a head sigh.

"Good afternoon pops." You muttered and the old man immediately stopped his actions to look at you and give you at least a kind yet tired smiled.

"Good afternoon (Y/n) my dear, how have you been?" He fixed his posture as you walked a bit closer to him.

"Same old." You giggled "How are you though? You sound tired..."

"Tired?" The elder chuckled but you gulped when you saw his right eye twitching "I'm fucking pissed off actually."

You widened your eyes... in all of the years you've been here you never actually heard a swear coming from this man's mouth... well, until now at least.

"U-uh-"

"Your boyfriend just simply refuses to listen." He chuckled a bit darkly "I tell him to NOT do something and guess what he does? The exact damn opposite." He ranted on as you nodded a bit, still not quote recovered at seeing the usual calm and collected pops so... irritated.

"I swear he gives me more headaches than all of my years inside this fucking organization and I've been here practically all of my life." He sighed while pushing his Grey hair back before looking at you "I apologize my dear, I will just go lay down a bit to calm myself down."

"I-is okay." You smiled a bit "just try to calm down a bit yeah?... is chisaki-"

"On his office." He grumbled while rubbing his head "I gave him something to do, not simply fuck up all my hard work to not have the police on my ass at least." He muttered and your jaw fell.

Alright, He was definitely pissed at your boyfriend.

You took some steps and knocked lightly on his door but heard nothing.

"Love? Is me." You knocked once while calling "Can I please come in?"

You had to put your ear on the door to finally hear a grumble as you sighed and shrugged. Close enough to a answer.

As soon as you entered and closed the door you didn't know whether to laugh or gasp..

There was at least five piles full of documents on Kai's desk. And it wasn't small piles, no, they were big. Similar to those cartoons when a character is at their work.

Kai hated taxes and hated to do these kind of work inside the yakusa... so judging by the tired yet pissed look of your boyfriend, this was probably his punishment given by pops.

"Oh honey... what did you do this time?" You accidentally let out as Kai only glared at you.

"If you're here to mock me or give me a scolding about my ideas to put this sorry place back on their glory days not being 'right' than just get out of here." He growled and you blinked... pops did scared you a bit when he growled, but your boyfriend? Nah, you were used to his bad mood.

"I didn't do neither of these, I just asked you what did you do to make pops put you in this kind of work... again." You lifted your hands up in a signal of peace as he only grumbled.

You shaked your head a bit before walking towards where he was sitting. He didn't stop what he was doing until your hands started to massage a bit his shoulder... he did tense up a bit at the start but soon you heard a little sigh and his body soon started to relax, little by little.

You snorted but that was enough for him to glare at you once again.

"Care to tell me what happened?" You lowered yourself down to put your head on his shoulder as he scoffed. "Not going to?"

Another scoff which made you roll your eyes at his attitude, until an idea popped as you smiled mischievously.

His breath caught on his throat when you started to plant kisses on the exposed part of his neck, and you couldn't help the giggled escaping your lips at feeling his skin shiver the slightly bit.

He muttered your name in warning as you kept kissing all of his weak spots.

"Tell me what happened" kiss "you might even feel better" kiss "please?" Another kiss "I want to try to calm you down a bit." Kiss

It was silent for a bit until he sighed deeply, hanging his head backwards a bit but enough to bump softly with yours. You removed yourself from the crook of his neck to watch from upwards his face which was clearly more relaxed, eyes closed and no more his eyebrows scrunched which surely would gave him wrinkles before his 40s.

You waited for him to peak his eyes open before silently suggesting to take off his black face mask and he only closed them once again, silently letting you removed the mask to see his whole face on all its glory. You smiled at seeing the signs of some of hair grow in his chin as you gently carreseded the area with your thumb as he grunted.

"Forgot to shave?" You asked as you felt your fingers being slight tickeed by ghe small facial hairs of his.

"Didn't had time." He justified, his frown coming back nefore you kissed his forehead.

"I like it. It suits you. Makes you even more senior than usual." You kissed his lips as he scoffed later.

"Disgusting."

It was a peaceful silence until you felt one of your hands being picked up by one of his bigger gloved hands. He brought close to his face, smelling the scent of the soap or hand sanitizer you used due to his mysiphohia and he couldn't help the warm feeling as he planted a small and almost shy kiss on your hand afterwards.

You smiled at the gesture, feeling all warm and fuzzy yourself at how far he had come over his own mysophobia just for you.

"There was this one specific minor gang on the center of Tokyo." He started, staring at your hand he hadn't let go of "A bunch of imbeciles, yet they had some.. "merch" I was quite interested in. It had a vicious effect on the brain and would lead us to gain some money to-"

"You were dealing with drugs again, weren't you?" You muttered.

"... you sound disappointed."

"Well, kinda. I know your intentions are good love but... it's just isn't right." You sighed, knowing your ideals were very much different. Kai could be extremist and radical sometimes on things he wanted and believed, quirks being a very much example of it.

You felt himself letting go of your hand and standing up from his chair, and for a second you thought you had angered him again but he just looked at you with solemn eyes.

"You're better than me as a human in many ways. Yet, I want this organization to come back as being a respected and powerful one. The method we've been doing for these last years is not working." He spoke as he took some steps and sat on the couch of his office, legs spread and arms resting over it "Some rules need to be broken to get our goal."

"But that's not right still love.." You dared to speak as you walked near him "Besides, you always end up on a fight or using your quirk on someone..."

"That is just a consequence, but is worth it." He growled at the ground.

"Is it?" You muttered "I.. I keep worrying about you or if you're okay almost all of the time now."

"You don't need to."

"Of course I need to!" You exclaimed while taking a seat next to him "Kai, I love you. You're my boyfriend. And I care and worry about you... don't you feel the same about me?"

Silence... and you sighed. You knew he felt the same way, but sometimes you couldn't help but think your man was way too complicated...

"Is what he wants." He broke the tension "thats something that he wants for so long... it would be the only way to pay him back to what he had done to... me." He muttered, staring ahead of him as you frowned.

"... I know you want to pay him back love, but maybe you being his successor is already enough."

"Is not." Kai muttered "trust me... is not."

You frowned before scooting closer and looking at him. His golden eyes looked at you for a bit before sighing and lifting one of his arms to allow you to hug his torso.

You laid your head on the crook of his neck as his gloved hand remained in your scalp, while both of your hands and his other one were on top of each other.

"You didn't change my mind about much things I did, but... I'm glad you came here. To check on me, I guess." He muttered and you couldn't help bit to snort.

"You're so stubborn." You whispered before looking at him, his stoic face no where to be seen as he scoffed at your words.

"Look who is talkin-" He widened his eyes when you kissed him once again, the hand that was on top of his now sweetly holding the right side of his jaw.

"You were saying?" You giggled at his red cheeks and those golden eyes glaring at you before he grabbed your both cheeks "Mh!"

"Shut up you brat. Didn'tyou want to calm me down? Then be quiet." He muttered huskily near your lips before kissing them again

Safe to say, he wasn't finishing those taxes.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha x reader #bnha villains x reader #kai chisaki x reader #bnha villains #zuffer writings

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otherone12 · 4 months ago

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If You Don't Like My Chemical Romance, Wait Outside For Your Girlfriend

Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Hey!! So… No one asked me to do this, but I remembered an edit that I saw a while ago, and the intro was Gerard saying “if you don’t like My Chemical Romance, wait outside for your girlfriend”. I Had this idea and the urge to write it (because I’m kinda obsessed with Gerard, sue me). Btw, I'm writing a Mikey x Reader Imagine (what was inspired by The Killers "Mr. Brightside" song), so i'll probably post it this week or next... well, hope you enjoy this fic (:

Summary: You have a shitty boyfriend who bother you when you're in a MCR concert. You're in the front row of the show and Gerard notices all that situation. (I imagine this with the 2007 Gerard era, but it doesn't really matter, except for the show's setlist, because it will be songs from Bullets and Revenge).

-Warnings: Abusive relationship. A lot of curse words.

- Word Count: 1.526

- Ps: Idk if it's fluff, confort, angst... i just dont't know lol

- Ps2: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps3: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

My 25th birthday was last week, and my mom gave me two tickets to my favorite band’s concert, one for me and another for my boyfriend. He is not a fan of My Chemical Romance, he’s into electronic music and some country stuff (i’ve never understood his taste in music), anyways, he is coming with me. I spent the whole week talking with my friends about how amazing the concert is going to be and how excited I was.

When the day finally came, I wanted to be one of the first in the row, because even with the premium pass I needed to be sure that I’ll be right in front of the stage.

I heard my name when I was in my room, dressing up as Helena for the concert. I turned around just to see my boyfriend with a mad look on his face.

- You’re really going to dress like this? - The disgust on his face made me feel a bit insecure about the cosplay.

- What’s wrong about it? - I tried to stay calm, even if I was about to scream at him.

- Nothing. But you never wear dresses, neither on my birthday, and I asked you to! - He walked to my bed and sat, sighed sadly and kept talking - I just don’t understand why this is so special.

- We’ve been together for five years, and you don’t understand why going to see the band who saved my life is special? - I spoke calmly, took a deep breath and held my tears. I didn't want to cry on what was supposed to be a happy day.

- I know that means alot for you, babe, but this shit means more than me? - He increased the volume of his voice.

- I… I’ve never said that! - I let his anger infect me, and now I was screaming like him.

- DID YOU FUCKING HESITED?! - He got up and I really thought that he was going to hit me or something.

- WHY DON’T YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE?! I'M TRYING TO GET DRESSED! - At this point, I let my tears pumped out my eyes, accepting the fact that I'll need to redo my makeup.

- FINE! - He slammed the door, leaving me alone in the silent room.

I knew the night wasn’t going to be as good as I planned.

*** time skip***

Arriving at the concert venue, my boyfriend parked the car next to the front door and we got out of the car. I saw just three people. We did it! We were ones of the first to be there.

- Oh my God! I loved your outfit! - The girl in front of us turned to me and said - I was going to dress up like this, but I didn't find the right dress.

- Thank you! I actually made the dress with an old one from my mom’s closet.

- This is just Impeccable.

I smiled at her and turned to my boyfriend, who was rolling his eyes. I was so excited that I didn't even care, he wouldn't ruin my day.

- Are you sure that you want to be here waiting for the show to begin for five hours? - He sounded tired and annoyed, but we were there for just about half an hour.

- Yeah, I'm sure. You don't have to stay if you don't want to. - I think that if he stays away for a while, he will be nicer or something, but maybe I was a bit rude and he’ll be even more mad - As long as you come for the show when it begins.

I smiled, trying to make him see that I'm not angry, I was, but he didn't need to know.

- Sure… I'm going to find something to eat. Stay fine, babe.

He gave me a brief kiss and drove away.

*** time skip***

I was finally inside of the building, but my boyfriend didn’t get back for five hours. I was worried because I tried to call him like ten times in the last three hours, but he didn’ answer. I was about to leave, when I saw him coming.

- WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?

I hugged him in desperation, but he seemed like he just went to the bathroom and got back in two minutes.

- Like I said, I was buying some food.- He gave me a smashed hamburger and I grabbed it with an angry look on my face.

- I was worried! Why didn’t you answer the ten fucking calls?

- My phone was on silent. - The way he seemed to not care made my blood boil. - But I'm here now, right?

- Whatever.

He opened his mouth to say something, but at the same moment, Frank, Mikey, Ray and Gerard stepped on the stage and I couldn't help but scream with the crowd. Without saying anything, “Our Lady of Sorrows” started. I was so close that I could see the color of Gerard's eyes. Was this heaven?

Everything was going really well, but it was a small show, so they kept stopping the show to talk to us. Before playing “Helena” Gerard said:

- Well, the next song is really important for us, and it’s amazing to see that so many people like it too. - He looked down at me and smiled. I forgot how to breathe for a moment. - Your dress is perfect, darling.

I was about to faint.

- T-thanks! - I said, smiling back at him.

My boyfriend gave him a death look, but Gerard just chuckled and started to sing.

- What the fuck?! - He grabbed my arm and began to talk, loud enough to not be muffled by the music - That was why you dressed like this? to impress him?

- I dressed like this as a tribute to this song! - I tried to make him let me go, but it didn't work, so he kept holding my arm. - It's not my fault that he noticed!

He huffed and dropped my arm.

- I need a drink.

He walked away to the bar and I stayed watching the show. I was not sure, but I think Gerard saw all that shit happening. By the way, seeing Frank and Ray playing guitar with my own eyes was the most amazing thing ever until now, and Mikey slayed so much with that bass.

The next song that they played was “The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You”, and I was very enthusiastic about this song. But I haven't any idea of how this was going to end.

I was singing along, and weirdly Gerard walked close to where I was and kneew in front of me. He put his hand on my cheeks, which turned red immediately, and kept singing “Pull the plug. But I'd like to learn your name. When holding on. Oh, I hope you do the same '' He looked deep into my eyes and continued “Aww, sugar”.

The crowd started to scream again, and my boyfriend turned to see what was happening. The scene made him get out of his mind. I know that a good girlfriend would never let this happen, and I should've backed off, but he has been such a dick since the day started, so I didn't feel blame, shame or anything else.

- You came here five hours early to be in the front because you knew this was gonna happend! You’re a fucking slut, don’t you? - He never talked to me like that. I got so sad that I couldn't even pay attention to the song.

This sadness became anger so fast, and I pushed him away before he could say any other thing. He tried to grip me in his arms, but I dodged him, bumping into someone next to me, and spilling a drink on my dress. I was about to scream something, but I saw Gerard making a sign to the security guard, who ran to my boyfriend and told him to go away.

- It’s fucking over! - I said to him and went back to see the rest of the show.

At the end, I waited for the people at the back of the crowd to leave, so I could have easy access to leave too.

- Hey!

I heard and didn’t believe it when I felt a touch on my shoulder.

- I’m sorry about what happened… I shouldn't have done that - It was Gerard. He was in front of me, just us. - Apropos, I'd really like to learn your name.

We laughed with the reference.

- That’s fine, he was being such an idiot since morning. - I said, giving him a shy smile. I said my name to him and kept talking - By the way, the show was amazing!

I was chatting with one of my favorite people in the world. I needed to make this not about my, now ex, boyfriend.

- Thanks! Good to know that even with all that shit you could enjoy the show. - He’s so cute, and the way he cares about his fans makes him even more wonderful. - It’s kinda weird but, can I get your number? It’s fine if you don’t want to give, but I find you really pretty and the way you dealt with this whole thing..

- Sure!

___________________________________________

~ Well, that's it, lemme know if you like it, and send me your request (;

#my chemical romance #gerard way x reader #gerard way #mcr

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 6 months ago

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bridgerton but i've never watched (or read) it

HI MAGGOTS it's me, your prince, your good omens mascot etc etc, but mainly your local (or not so local) tired homosexual (i'm bi but shh) at 6:46 am after not sleeping all night. i was supposed to go to bed after breakfast but i saw bridgerton's new season's come out and i couldn't resist poking my uneducated nose into it and making another summary with zero authority or sources aside from random edits i've watched, a few clips from youtube reactions, and... and that's it tbh.

ALRIGHT:

The show's based on books and there's a family. Of people. Named Bridgerton. And their names are in alphabetical order but not in a WASP mom Abcde way.

Someone named Daphne is named uh Pretty Eligible Breeding Material of the ball or something by a Queen. Unsure what the queen is doing there but she is.

There's a homie named Simon. He doesn't like Daphne. He doesn't like people. He's probably severely repressed.

There's dancing to pop music but it's, like, instrumental.

They do the Amoral Waltz. I don't know why or how. But it's all gucci, because they get married.

Oh fuck I forgot to mention this is set in the past. A fictitious Regency or Victorian era? Judging by their clothes, Regency, the waistline is too high to be Victorian. Idk.

They uh... fight? But it's in a sexual tension way. And Simon's still repressed and has daddy issues or something.

It rains and they make up and realise they're in love and don't divorce each other.

Right there was also this um gossip girl Lady Whistledown who's Penelope Maybe and who's important. With gossip and stuff.

Now there's an Indian lady named Kate (eyy Indian) and she has Sexual Tension with the Bridgerton rakey dude named Anthony.

They Vex each other. And Sex each other. Vexing sexing.

But he's supposed to marry her sister or something. And then Kate falls off a horse and nearly dies and he carries her back. And proposes.

I think there was a wedding with the sister. I assume it did not go through because uh. He proposed to Kate. Sooooo.

Something about the Smart bestie of Penelope somehow never figuring out that she's the Lady Whistledown person.

Family corruption old money marriage of conveniences blahblash.

OH AND THEN Kate says no but then yes and they kiss with fireworks.

And the new season involves some Dude named Colin, and he... is shy? But posturing as a rake or something. Not the garden tool. But a tool. But it's posturing.

Man why's everyone gotta be so repressed-

Sex sex sex allosexuality befuddles me... but you have my confused support. Go Kanthony!

And Colin is in love with Penelope but he's Represso Depresso but then they kiss and then HE FUCKING FINGERS HER IN A CARRIAGE SIR WHAT.

And he also interrupts some proposal to her by some dude he set her up with. Good job mate. 10/10.

And uh. They get married?

Help.

Okay er. How badly did I do?

*scutters off into the shadows to watch your reactions safely*

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin #colin x penelope #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton season 3 #kanthony #kate x anthony #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton s1 #bridgerton summary #good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots

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hochsleep · 1 month ago

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Chapter 2: First day in the quarry

• Era: Season 1

• Warning: foul language, disturbing thoughts.

• Summary: Daryl brings you to a camp in the quarry and now you have to get to know its inhabitants. Will you and your sister be allowed to stay? Have you finally found a safe place to stay?

• Word count: 6,9k.

• A/N: I will say right off the bat that there is almost no interaction between Daryl and Y/N in the chapter. But aside from the romantic relationship with Mr. Dixon, I also want to spell out the interactions between the reader and the other characters in the series. It's important, after all they're all in the same group and I don't consider all the other characters just set pieces. I love many of them immensely and I want to express my love here. But after these digressions, we'll usually be treated to chapters with a lot of Daryl. For balance.

The first chapter seems quite weak to me and if you made it here after that, you're good! I'm having trouble spelling out the beginning. I haven't really fumbled with the characters yet, especially my own, but the second chapter was easier for me to write and it feels really better. Glad you guys are here!

Yeah, that's pretty much all I wanted to say here for now.

Enjoy reading!

Your first day of your career was stressful to say the least.

You knew this place. One day your best friend got involved with a bunch of local amateur rockers who liked to hide from cops and law problems far away from your hometown. One day these assholes decided to perform at a bar in Atlanta, calling it their first big tour. Needless to say, they ended up not even being allowed in that bar? Their playing was pretty mediocre, they were more attracted to the image of rock stars and their lifestyle than the music. Their lead singer looked like Axl Rose and was a real asshole. Billy Stevenson. Famous for his husky voice, his problems with the local Dunwoody police, and his love of underage girls when he was in his early 20s. You couldn’t help it, your friend Holly was madly in love with this asshole and all your attempts to talk some sense into her were unsuccessful.

So when you and Holly were 16, you first tricked your mom and went on her boyfriend Billy Stevenson’s “tour” with her. You just didn’t want to let her go alone. Holly was naïve enough to get into trouble, and Billy had little interest in the safety of his underage girlfriend. So you volunteered to be her voice of reason on this trip. It wasn’t so bad. Except for a few days on the road in an old pot-smoking van with six sleazy guys who were failed rock stars. At least you finally got out of your little town and could see Atlanta. The big city you were hoping to go to after high school. And your best friend was with you and seemed really happy so you just ignored all the other aspects of the not-so-safe trip.

That group decided to stop at this very quarry for the night before finally reaching Atlanta. That’s how you first got here. It was only seven years ago, and it felt like an eternity. You never thought you’d be in this place again. You didn’t think Lottie would be with you. And you obviously couldn’t, even in your wildest fantasies, imagine under what circumstances you’d end up back in that old quarry. The end of the world. It’s still hard to believe.

But back to the camp that Daryl brought you to. It was hard to get a few words out of him on the way to the quarry, but at least after several attempts he introduced himself. He was probably just tired of your questioning or your annoying voice. He liked Lottie better because she kept quiet while you talked and talked all the way. Anyway, Daryl led you out of the forest and the first thing you came to was a small clearing where the trees had been cut down years ago.

The first thing that catches your eye is a few camping tents with folding chairs and ropes for drying laundry. A woman with two children was sitting near one of these tents, and she was the first to look at you. The woman frowned slightly and whispered to her young son in Spanish to go back into the tent. You wondered how bad you and Lottie looked now if the woman had that reaction. Three days in the woods must have taken its toll. You’d had to sleep on the ground as it was, with nothing to put underneath you. But you always gave your knitted cardigan to Lottie to wrap up in so she wouldn’t freeze at night lying on the cold ground. Even if you were shaking from the cold yourself because Georgia nights feel like they’re polar. Oh, and you fell at least four times while you and Lottie were walking through the woods. From fatigue, dizziness from lack of food, a couple times you tripped. Resulting in bloody knees, elbows and palms. So yes, probably a strange girl covered in mud, blood and her own sweat did not arouse confidence in the camp.

You swept your eyes further and saw an old mobile home, on the roof of which stood an elderly man in a Hawaiian shirt and with a shotgun in his hands. He seemed to be trying to see what was going on down here. Two girls came out of the house. Two blondes, similar in appearance but different in age. They’re probably sisters, or so you’d think.

“Dixon, what’s going on here?” came a man’s voice.

A tall man of strong build wearing a shirt unbuttoned across his chest, showing off dark short hair and a large silver pendant. He looked to be no more than thirty-five. The man had his hands at his sides and was squinting at Daryl. Oh, now you know his last name. Not that you needed the information, but it was still interesting to know.

“Found them in the woods,” Daryl said hoarsely, waving his hand in your and Lottie’s direction while you stood behind his back, “gotta help the kid.”

“Let’s step back and talk, buddy,” the man snorted, as if saying the last word with disdain.

You could see Daryl’s shoulders tense. He nodded to the man and they both walked back toward the forest to discuss the situation. You couldn’t blame him. Today, with the old world dead, and with it the law and perhaps ethical rules controlling human behavior, you shouldn’t have trusted strangers. Especially ones from the woods.

“Are we not allowed to be here?” asked Lottie quietly, wrapping her arm tightly around yours, "are we going to get kicked out?”

For a ten-year-old, she was pretty savvy. Though it didn’t take much intelligence to notice the wary behavior of the people in this camp. You stood there in the middle of the clearing while several pairs of eyes stared at you and your sister tried to hide behind you. You wished you could hide too. It seemed easier with Daryl standing in front of you and covering you.

You saw a boy, looking about the same age as Lottie, walk confidently in your direction. Behind him, a tall, thin woman with long brown hair and a piercing gaze walked at a quicker pace. His mom?

“Carl, stop!” huffed the woman, catching up with the child, but he cared little for her words.

“Hi, I’m Carl Grimes,” the boy with the bright blue eyes smiled sincerely and pulled Lottie’s hand, “what’s your name?”

Lottie looked at his hand and then at you. You smiled slightly and nodded at her, encouraging her. It had been so long since Lottie had seen the other children, it seemed like years rather than a couple of weeks.

“Charlotte L/N,” the girl replied, looking apprehensively at Carl.

“Pleased to meet you,” Carl ventured and put his own arm around her arm to seal the acquaintance.

Lottie opened her eyes fearfully, but relaxed just as quickly, realizing that a boy her age wouldn’t hurt her.

“Carl,” the woman walked over to you and the boy and shook her head annoyedly, looking at him, “you definitely heard what I told you.”

“It’s okay,” you found the courage to answer the woman, “we’re not dangerous. I mean…”

“What’s your name?” the woman shifted her gaze to you. So cold it sent shivers down your spine.

“Y/N,” you replied, looking at her uncertainly.

“Y/N, I think we should all stay away from each other for now until we figure this out,” the woman said, grabbing Carl’s arm and pulling him aside. “For safety’s sake…ours and yours.”

“Lori, you shouldn’t chop off your shoulder,” the older man finally came down from the roof and approached you with a broad smile. “The two young ladies are obviously scared and tired, hardly a danger to anyone.”

“We’ve had enough of the Dixons who came here from the woods too and now we don’t all feel safe,” Lori answered him in a low voice so Carl and the others wouldn’t hear too much extra.

“Lori,” the old man shook his head faintly, looking at the woman, “this conversation is inappropriate right now, don’t you think? Obviously the girls need help, that’s what really matters.”

“Let’s see what Shane has to say to that,” Lori said and with another glance in your direction, dragged Carl by the arm to the side.

The man sighed his head as he watched Lori walk away behind Carl’s arm and quietly clucked his tongue. But then the good-natured smile bloomed back on his face as he looked at you.

“You must be hungry, ladies. Come on, I’ll feed you and we’ll get to know each other without any barbed looks in your direction,” the old man clapped his hands, “and don’t mind Lori, she’s always in a bad mood lately, it’s nothing to do with you.”

At the mention of food, saliva automatically accumulated in your mouth. You could literally feel your stomach digesting itself all these three days. The last thing you ate was a handful of wild raspberries found in the woods. The only safe thing you knew. It was a shame there weren’t many berries, but you weren’t in a position to complain. You’ve never been a believer, but you seem to finally understand why people pray before eating and thank God for sending food. But it was more hunger playing on your emotions, nothing serious.

The elderly man introduced himself as Dale. He nobly hid you and Lottie in his motor home, where no one would look at you both with supposed apprehension. You were truly grateful for that. And you were even more grateful when Dale put a plate full of pasta and meat chowder warmed over a fire in front of you. You didn’t like meat other than chicken, but right now you’d eat anything that had animal protein in it. Lots of wild protein. And damn it, it was the best chowder you’ve ever had in your life. Or at least in the last month. It was warm, rich, salty and peppery, even though you’d forgotten spices existed, and it was really hearty. Even Lottie, who was a very picky eater and would certainly not have eaten such an array of food at any other time, was happily gorging herself on the food Dale had provided. The man watched you with a caring smile as he poured the wild herbs into cups. An impromptu tea you wouldn’t mind having now.

“So, girls, how did you get into these woods?” asked Dale, placing a plastic cup of decoction in front of you. The pleasant, soothing scent of herbs enveloped you, and it was easier to breathe.

“We’re from Dunwoody,” you said, smiling slightly at the old man, “just like everyone else traveling towards Atlanta when we heard there was a safe camp for the uninfected. When we got to the town, it turned out there was no camp," you explained without going into detail.

You didn’t tell him how your mother was eaten in front of you and Lottie. How your stepfather John piled into the house that same day and ordered you to immediately pack all the essentials. How you took a long drive from Dunwoody in his old Ford, and when it stalled, you stole someone’s pickup truck. How you spent several days in the woods, eating the canned food you had collected at home and what you found in abandoned cars on the road. You didn’t tell him how you had to run away from walkers several times and how John cracked one of them open in front of his ten-year-old daughter, after which she was afraid to go near him. How you finally made it to Atlanta, but instead of a camp you found only abandoned military equipment, fire-damaged buildings, and crowds of corpses. How you couldn’t get away from them and John drew them off so you and Lottie could escape. You didn’t tell how the man who raised you from the age of ten and replaced your own father was torn apart by reanimated corpses, spewing out his insides as he screamed exhaustedly before life left him. How loudly Lottie screamed “Daddy!” and sobbed, and you had to literally carry her on your back to escape the walkers. How you ran off into the woods again, where you finally broke away from the mob of rotten ones. You didn’t tell how Lottie had been silent for the last two days, not realizing that she had lost both her parents so quickly. How the two of you wandered through the forest and survived only on wild berries and rare streams of water. You could only hope the water wasn’t poisoned with walker DNA. You didn’t tell him how you were found by four of those horrible creatures and chased after you. How Lottie was grabbed and almost bit. And how you gave up and for a moment thought it was best for both of you, you didn’t tell him either. The memories were still fresh and the realization of your weakness had not yet reached you. And there was a lot you hadn’t told Dale.

But he probably knew from the sad look in your eyes that you didn’t need to ask. Not now. And in front of Lottie, who was trying hard not to think about what had happened.

“Are you going to kick us out?” finally dispelled the silence, Lottie looking at Dale with her innocent childish gaze in which hope flickered.

“Kick you out? What makes you think that, little lady?” the old man raised his eyebrows, looking at the girl.

He and probably Carl were the only ones who already saw you as part of the group. Maybe also Daryl, since he brought you here, but you weren’t sure.

“That woman, the boy’s mom…Carl’s mom, she doesn’t want us here…and neither does that big tall man,” Lottie pressed her lips together. A habit you both shared when nervous or doubtful.

“Well you may have scared them, we’re all scared right now, but that doesn’t mean they want to kick you out,” Dale shook his head, “we all came to this camp hoping to find a safe place and we found one. Everyone arrived gradually and we were all new here, but no one kicked anyone out. Daryl, the one who brought you here, and his brother Merle, who I suggest you stay away from, were the last newcomers to this group, they too came from the forest a couple weeks ago and people just…got used to new people in the camp. Time goes very fast now, two weeks feels like two months ago,” the old man sighed, “and yet. No one’s kicked anyone out of this camp yet. If you want a safe place and a nice, well almost, company of other living people, you’ve found it and are now part of the group until you decide to leave. That’s the way it Is.”

Lottie smiled at Dale’s words. She didn’t want to leave. New people scared her, but she couldn’t help but be glad to be alive. Especially after seeing nothing but dead people for the last couple weeks. And she liked that there were more kids at camp. Carl and those kids whose mom had hastily hidden them in the tent. Maybe they could be friends. And maybe you wouldn’t have to give your food and clothes to Lottie anymore. She’d like that. She also liked Dale. He was kind and caring. He reminded Lottie of your grandfather from Oregon, the one you both went to see the summer before school. This place really could be a new home and Lottie really hoped it would be.

“Thanks for the food, Dale, it’s really good,” you said smiling and occasionally glancing at your sister’s satisfied face.

“Yes, thank you!” nodded the girl confidently, remembering to thank the old man.

“It’s all Carol,” the man brushed it off, but then apparently remembered that you have no idea who Carol is, “I’ll be sure to introduce you to her and the others. But you’d better get cleaned up first.”

Oh, right.

You still looked no better than a walker. Still covered in blood, sweat, and mud. You used to feel awful after a long day of work on particularly hot days in Georgia, when you sweated all over and literally felt like the dirtiest person on the planet. All you wanted to do was go home and give yourself a good scrubbing with a washcloth. But a light layer of sweat was a drop in the bucket compared to how truly dirty you were now. Not to mention the fact that you’d forgotten about shampoo for two weeks at least, and now if you ran your greasy hair over a frying pan, you could fry an egg without oil and it wouldn’t even burn. It was only now that you didn’t have to run and survive in the woods, where walkers could find you at any moment, that you thought about how you looked. You felt like wiping yourself with an iron sponge like the one your mom used to scrub the burned-on food off the dishes. Or scrub yourself with sandpaper. And burn those clothes you’ve been wearing for so long. There’s no saving it, you’re sure of that. But the problem is, you and Lottie left your backpacks in Atlanta. You had literally nothing with you. Wearing those filthy, tattered rags after you’ve washed up…It's rather not wash up at all.

“I don’t have a change of clothes and…” you looked awkwardly at Dale, “all our stuff was left in Atlanta when we ran away from there.”

“Oh, right,” nodded the old man, “you came light,” he reflected.

There are enough people in the camp. And they should have enough clothes, too. But you weren’t even sure if you and Lottie were staying here. You didn’t know for sure until now. Asking for clean clothes from these people would have been supercilious and you didn’t want to deal with it.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” Dale said with a smile before leaving you and Lottie in his motorhome.

You didn’t even have time to object. He wouldn’t have let you.

“He’s cute,” Lottie grinned at you after a few seconds of silence, and you only grinned back at her.

Dale didn’t keep you waiting long as promised. He came back to the house accompanied by a young girl. One of those blondes you saw earlier. The younger one. The girl seemed your age. Maybe a couple years apart. She smiled charmingly and looked like a doll with her soft blond hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. The girl held a stack of clothes in her hands.

Oh shit.

You wouldn’t want that. I mean, sure you wanted to wash up and put on clean clothes, but you didn’t want to feel indebted and steal from these people. You already felt like you owed Daryl for saving your life and Dale for the food and the warm welcome.

“Hi, we haven’t had a chance to meet yet,” the girl said in a voice as sweet as sugar syrup, “I’m Amy.”

“Y/N,” you nodded, lifting the corners of your lips slightly, “this is my sister Charlotte,” you nodded at the little girl next to you.

“That’s my full name, but I don’t like it when the full form is used, I’d rather just Lottie,” the girl explained.

“Nice to meet you,” Amy smiled even wider and for a moment you thought her rosy cheeks were going to burst, “I brought you both some clothes.”

Amy held out a stack of clothes to you and you took them into your hands. There were bigger clothes on the bottom, probably for you, and some smaller ones for Lottie on top.

“Thank you so much, I don’t know how I can repay you to be honest…” you pressed your lips together awkwardly, looking at Amy.

“Don’t need anything, it’s all right,” waved the girl away, “we’re here to help each other. It’s my stuff, I don’t know if it’ll fit, but if it doesn't we’ll look for something else. Maybe my sister has some or…well we have a lot of women in the camp,” she explained hastily, “and for Lottie, Sophia’s stuff. It’s Carol’s daughter and…”

“All right, honey, thanks,” Dale interrupted her, noticing that with excitement Amy was starting to gibber and explain too much.

“Yeah…anyway, if something doesn’t fit at all, we’ll look for more,” Amy nodded, exhaling.

“That’s fine, and thanks again,” you nodded at her.

“Thank you,” repeated Lottie after you.

“No problem, I’ll see you later,” Amy smiled once more and walked out the door.

“Okay, I have a shower room there a little farther closer to the bedroom. It’s not much of a dream, but it’s washable. The water is also scarce and it’s mostly cold, so I suggest you do all your business quickly because it’ll take a long time to rub down not lake water,” Dale began, walking past you further to show you everything, “Soap and shampoo are on the shelf next to the shower. And I’ll give you a towel. When you’re done, go outside. We’ll get to know the others.”

Dale gave you both a towel each and left you and Lottie alone in his motorhome, assuring you that no one would come in here and you could relax.

You sent Lott to wash first and hoped you’d have some water left over. But now you’d dive into the lake to wash yourself, frankly.

Lottie came out a few minutes later. Her long hair was wet and slightly disheveled from the water, but she looked fresh and clean for the first time in a long time. Lottie was dressed in knee-length blue leggings with a star pattern and a white T-shirt with a cartoon bear on it. Clothes were a little big for her because the Sophia you didn’t know yet was probably older than your sister. Or at least taller. But Lottie didn’t complain. Especially when she saw that she’d been allocated ballet flats with a strap around her ankle. Not very practical footwear now, but better than one miserable rubber boot. You hoped you wouldn’t have to run around anymore and Lottie’s shoes wouldn’t be something to worry about in that case. Especially as she seemed to like it very much herself. She loved shoes and ballet flats before all this. Fuck you could see sneakers on her feet, it was a rarity.

You walked into the tiny shower room, which somehow also contained a toilet and sink. The shower was disastrously small and you were left to guess how to turn around so as not to bruise yourself on the toilet and sink. You pulled off all your dirty clothes and shoved them with your foot closer to the door so they wouldn’t get in the way. Your gaze fell on your reflection in the small mirror above the sink. The crumpled, tired, and lost girl who had once smiled so brightly looked back at you. It was the worst version of you. And not even because of the blood and dirt on your face. Not because of the purple bruise on your collarbone and a few scratches on your neck. Not because of the greasy hair that clumped on your shoulders. It was because of that faded look in your eyes. The one you’d never seen in your life, not even in your worst moments. The funny thing was that now all those situations and your worries about them were nothing compared to your current problems.

You didn’t want to see it anymore. You stood under the shower head and turned on the water. Cold jets ran through your hair, dripping onto your skin and causing a tabor of goosebumps to follow. But damn it now, that cold water felt like the embrace of a god you didn’t believe in, but now you were ready to believe in. You could only dream of a hot shower now, but the temperature of the water no longer mattered as long as the dirt and blood was washed away with the streams of water and left under your feet. You turned off the water to lather your hair with a man’s shampoo for lack of more. It smelled divine anyway. Everything smelled divine now after the smell of sweat, blood, and rotting corpses in your nose. The only thing your nose has been picking up lately. So the smell of pine branches and mint almost made you have an orgasm. Especially when you felt the foam between your fingers, lathering up your dirty hair. The next step was the mendal smelling soap you used to lather your body with. The sharp pain recognized your scratches on your sides and legs, but that was a good thing as they were getting clean. You had nothing to treat them with back then in the forest and could only hope you didn’t get an Infection or die of blood poisoning. That would be ridiculous and a shame in today’s world. As your slippery soapy fingers slid over your body you felt as if angels had come down from heaven to bathe you. It was very good. Very good. And it felt even better to wash the soap off yourself along with the rest of the dirt and blood. There was barely enough water, you used the rest and hoped no one else would shower today. At least you justified to yourself that you really needed it more.

You wiped yourself with a clean towel and exhaled with relief. Now you could get dressed. You made a mental note to thank Amy again, because she had been kind enough to share even fresh underwear with you. Today couldn’t have gotten any better after that. Even if the cute polka-dot cotton briefs were a little small for you. You didn’t even want to think about the condition of your own after a week of wearing them. It’s horrible, you should just burn them. Amy also brought you a bra, which was also incredibly cute, but you hadn’t used that part of your clothes since you were a teenager after your cousin Martha scared you with the story about bra pips causing cancer and terrible breast pain. You remembered that to this day. But even without those stories, you were uncomfortable in bras, and they pressed and chafed your skin every now and then. You gave them up a long time ago. There were the occasional snide comments from male customers at the store where you worked and the stares of middle-aged women, but your comfort was more important to you. So you put your bra aside and began to dress next. Next were light-colored jeans that were supposed to be loose, but looked like skinnies on you because you were fuller and taller than Amy. But the main thing was that they weren’t close to bursting at the seams if you sat down in them and that was enough. You even liked the way they fit around your soft, rounded hips. The last one was a soft pink short-sleeve button-down shirt. It fit you well without being too tight, unlike the jeans. Anyway, you threw on a thin gray sweater with cute buttons and bows embroidered on them. It was a far cry from your lazy, near boho style, but you didn’t complain. Amy had also brought you some sneakers, but you preferred your shabby yellow converse shoes, which were still alive. And you hoped to save your colorful knitted cardigan that your mother had carefully knitted for you for Christmas two years ago. It’s the only thing you have left of hers. The cardigan and Lottie.

You came out of the shower room and sat across from Lottie at the table. She looked at you anxiously. You knew what was wrong. She was scared. And so were you.

“We can escape through the roof hatch,” you whispered to your sister as if someone could hear you.

“No, we won’t do that,” Lottie shook her head and stood up from the table to say confidently, “let’s go.”

You and Charlotte walked out of Dale’s motorhome just as a young Asian-looking guy you didn't know was about to knock on the door.

“Oh, I…” he looked at you fearfully, “I thought Dale was in there.”

"He’s not there,” you shook your head.

“Yeah, I already figured that out,” the guy scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I’m Glenn by the way,” and then extended his hand to you.

“Y/N,” you replied, squeezing his hand lightly.

“And you…?” Glenn looked at the girl next to you.

“Lottie,” she smiled. Glenn was about to reply when Dale appeared behind him.

"Oh, you girls are done now,” the old man clapped his hands, “have you met Glenn yet? He’s a good guy,” Dale clapped the younger guy on the shoulder in a friendly way.

"Come on,” Glenn lowered his head in embarrassment and you noted to yourself that he seemed really quite shy.

"Well, we need to find Shane and introduce you to the others, follow me,” Dale waved his hand, urging the three of you to follow him.

There’s nothing more for you to do. You took Lottie’s hand and followed the man. Glenn walked beside you, awkwardly tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The whole situation was embarrassing for you, too. Eventually you talked Daryl into bringing you to camp. You had hoped to just ask for food and lodging for one night, not expecting anything more. But now it’s people have lent you clothes and seem to actually let you stay here and live with them. This is something you could never have dreamed of. Unprecedented generosity.

“Shane we have an unspoken leader,” Glenn said as you walked, “well I mean we’re kind of his group, but there are other people in the camp who just knew about this place and stopped here on their own. Shane decided to organize all of us and he seems to know better than the rest of us how to handle difficult situations, so we just figured he could…I don’t know, be in charge? I mean, he’s really being listened to.”

“So he decides who can stay here?” you asked.

"We all decide together, Shane just makes the final determinations in matters like this, but since the camp is large and not everyone is, shall we say, part of our group, you could take a spot a little farther away and live on your own,” Glenn shrugged, “but that’s not necessary, no one minds if you’re actually with us.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you almost whispered, remembering the look in Lori’s eyes.

Dale led you to a campfire where people were beginning to gather. The sky was darkens rapidly and the air, warmed by the day, was cooling surprisingly quickly. Everyone wanted to take a seat close to the warm, cozy fire. You felt a thrill of excitement at how many eyes were directed at you at that moment. Lori and Carl, who you already knew. But now there was no coldness and distrust in the woman’s gaze that she had greeted you with earlier. And Carl was smiling, waving his hand to Lottie as if they were already friends. Next you saw Amy next to an other woman, her sister. The younger sister smiled at you, and the older one nodded her head in greeting. Next to them sat a middle-aged woman, unfamiliar to you until now, with short gray hair. She had her arm around the shoulders of a blonde girl who looked a little older than your sister. You suggested that perhaps she was the same Sophia who had lent her things to Lottie. Sitting next to them was a full man who looked at you in disgust. Actually, it wasn't just you, he looked like that at everyone if you watched him. He was definitely not someone you wanted to meet. The next person you saw was a chubby dark-haired guy who was holding a guitar and seemed to be playing something, but stopped when he saw you and Lottie. Next to him sat an older dark-skinned woman who smiled politely at you. And finally Shane. The same man who dragged Daryl into the woods to ‘chat’ when he brought you here. You recognized him from the confident pose he stood in, towering over these people.

Speaking of Daryl. You didn’t see him among these people. But when you looked to the side, you saw a familiar figure with a crossbow over his shoulder. Daryl was walking away, obviously not even thinking about joining the group around the fire. You watched as he separated and didn’t look in your direction, though you were obviously staring. But you were standing far enough away that he really didn’t notice your stare.

“Y/N, right?” you hear a male voice say and turn around to Shane.

“Yes,” you nodded, pursing your lips. “And little…?” Shane shifted his gaze to your sister and smiled at her.

“Charlotte,” the girl replied, squeezing your hand tighter.

“Y/N and Charlotte, I remembered,” the man grinned and nodded, “well, my name is Shane. I know we didn’t start this acquaintance on the most pleasant note, but I think we should all try again.”

“Does that mean we can stay here?” asked Lottie quietly, looking uncertainly at the big man.

“Sure,” he nodded his head, “yes, you can stay.”

Okay, maybe it was easier than you thought.

With a relieved exhale you were finally able to allow yourself to relax at least a little. Dale sat you both closer to the fire between him and Glenn, and you began to get to know the people around you. The blonde next to Amy was Andrea and you weren’t wrong to think they were sisters. T-Dog and Jacqui were introduced next. Lottie thought the guy’s name was funny. Carol then gave you a friendly smile and introduced her daughter Sophia. You guessed it here too. Oh, and her husband Ed, who wasn’t even paying attention to what was going on. Dale nodded toward where two adults and several children were sitting around a smaller fire. The old man introduced them as the Martinez family, and you recognized the woman as the one who had rushed to hide her children from you in the tent a couple of hours ago. She seemed friendlier now. Like everyone in this place. Oh, a little later a middle-aged man joined you and called himself Jim. He wasn’t too talkative, but he seemed to get along well with Dale, because pretty soon the two of them were discussing the old man’s motorhome and how to fix the insides of that old car.

The atmosphere became even more pleasant after everyone had eaten. You and Lottie refused to eat because Dale had already fed you a while ago. You were full, but the main reason was your shyness and unwillingness to eat all of these people's food. They had already given you too much in one day. After a while Carl dragged Sofia and Lottie away to play near the fire. The children were tired of listening to the boring adult conversations and no one dared blame them. You watched with a soft smile as your little sister was a little embarrassed but still interacting with the other children. She missed it. And you missed seeing her happy for so long.

“Hi,” you felt someone sit down on the log next to you. Lori.

“Hi,” you turned in her direction and only now noticed that most of the group had started to disperse to their tents.

"Listen, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted this afternoon,” the woman clasped her hands together, looking in front of her, “the day was difficult and…”

"It’s okay, I understand,” you nodded, “times are like this, it’s dangerous to trust strangers from the woods so easily. I mean it’s always been unsafe, but things have definitely escalated now.”

“That’s for sure,” Lori grinned and nodded, “but I’m still sorry, Y/N.”

“Forget it, I’m not offended, really,” you smiled at her.

“Okay,” nodded Lori in response.

Lori was silent for a few moments before she spoke again.

“It’s good you’re here, I can’t imagine how hard it is to survive out there in the woods alone,” she sighed.

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy…” you nodded, “but Daryl saved us and I talked him into bringing us here for real.”

“It’s worth being careful with the Dixons,” Lori said, “Daryl and his brother Merle…they’re not easy to get along with.”

Merle? You’re hearing again that it’s best not to go near him. You didn’t know him, but you chose to trust everyone’s prejudices. Lori’s the second person to tell you to stay away from another Dixon. But if he resembled Daryl even a little bit, you could tell that he would indeed be difficult to get along with. But that’s if you wanted to, because so far, you haven’t.

“You don’t seem to like them both,” you said, throwing the twig into the fire without looking at Lori.

“With their arrival many no longer feel safe really,” the woman exhaled and looked at you, “Daryl at least hunts and contributes to this group, but his brother…don’t be alone with him, stay close to the others.”

“Okay, you’re scaring me a little,” you grinned a little wrongly.

“Sorry, just trying to give you a heads up that’s all,” Lori only shrugged.

"Okay, I’ll…keep in mind what you said,” you nodded. “That would be nice,” a soft smile appeared on her face. And you smiled back.

You sat silent in a cozy silence and looked at the fire. All around you could hear children’s laughter, the conversations of people you’d barely gotten to know, the tracks of a campfire and the murmuring of crickets in the grass. And at that very moment it seemed to you that life hadn’t changed at all. The dead don’t walk the earth and don’t eat the living. You hadn’t lost your parents and friends. And the thought of letting the walkers eat you and your little sister out of your own powerlessness hadn’t bothered you for the last week. It’s like everything’s back to normal.

Like you were living again.

Glenn was kind enough to give you and Lottie his tent. He promised he’d find you two your own when he went out on the highway again, but for now he’d moved into Dale’s motorhome.

You and Lottie wrapped yourselves in sleeping bags, which didn’t really keep you very warm on this cold Georgia night, but it was a lot better than sleeping on the grass in the woods with bugs getting into your hair and you could barely sleep, torturing yourself with the thought that walkers would appear at any moment. You finally felt safe. In that old camping tent in your sleeping bag, cradling your little sister in your arms to make you both feel warmer.

“I like it here,” whispered Lottie.

“We’re lucky to have come across such good people,” you said.

“I thought there were no survivors left, it’s been so long since we’ve seen them.”

“I’m sure this group is far from the only survivors.”

“I wish daddy had gotten to this place with us,” said Lottie faintly, pressing her thin lips together.

“I know, honey,” you closed your eyes, feeling the burning in them, “I wish he was here too.”

“Do you think he’s looking out for us? Grandmother always said the dead watch over us from the sky,” the girl asked with hope in her voice.

And who are you to dash her hopes? Even if you didn’t really believe in it. The dead walk the earth, not watch over the living from above. That’s the way it is. But Lottie doesn’t need to think about that.

“I hope he is,” you whispered, “he’s certainly happy for us. We survived and found a safe place with good people.”

“Yes, he’s happy for us,” agreed Lottie, “him and mommy.”

Lottie was silent for a while and you thought she had fallen asleep. You could still hear the crickets outside the tent.

“I don’t want you to go, Y/N,” Lottie said quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied with complete confidence.

“I don’t want you looking out for me from upstairs,” the girl said barely audibly.

You frowned. If only Charlotte knew what you’ve been thinking about lately. If only she could pay attention to how you almost gave up back then in the woods when the walkers caught you. What would she think? Would she trust you like she did before? You were scared. Scared that she’d find out. Scared that in a stressful situation you’d give up again and there wouldn’t be Daryl or someone else around to save Lottie instead of you. Scared that she might actually die. Scared that you might die, too. You didn’t really want that. You just didn’t know how else to handle the situation. You just let your weakness get the best of you and it almost killed you and your sister. And you didn’t want that to happen again.

“That won’t happen, I promise,” you whispered, “you and I will be together until the end, and I definitely won’t die before you."

"I love you, Y/N,” Lottie said a little louder.

“I love you too, sweetie,” you kissed the top of her head, “now go to sleep,” and pulled her tighter against you.

Toward morning, the sound of crickets and Lottie’s soft sniffling put you to sleep. And that sleep was so sweet.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon x reader #twd fanfiction

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elysianymph · 1 year ago

Text

my unpopular marauders opinions

(i'm scared 😟)

'nothing is ooc bc we know nothing about the characters!' might work with the girl characters and the lesser known ones but it does not fly when we are talking about the marauders and other characters like barty, regulus, etc. we have so much (biased) information on these characters and you can't erase all they were in the original text bc you want to make an oc in the marauders era.

sirius is literally one of the most interesting characters in the fandom and i hate how he's been dumbed down to regulus' brother or remus' boyfriend depending on who's pov we're reading. what happened to cool sirius and why has he become a loser who follows remus around like a lapdog??? what happened to casanova sirius who all the girls were into but he never paid them any attention??? what happened to the sirius who risked his life and ran away bc he refused to become like his parents??? and why has been reduced to a whimpering mess who cries bc remus is mean to him (ooc on remus' part too). you're lying to yourselves if you think sirius wouldn't start throwing hands the moment remus insulted him. i need to write an entire separate post for this bc it makes me viscerally angry when i see him portrayed like this. who decided that giving remus all of sirius' main character traits was a good idea??

similarly, remus has become so boring. he has literally become the toxic love interest in a werewolf story please STOP IT. i'm tired of remus constantly yelling and calling other people (specifically sirius) worthless or hitting their deepest insecurities but it's all justified bc it's the full moon and he's angry and emotional. it's overdone, it's toxic, it's boring and i don't want to see it. my remus will forever be a an old sweater-wearing, bookworm people pleaser who wanted nothing more than to have friends who loved him despite who he was and he treasured them so dearly when he found them. he carried extra pens and quills in his bag because he knew peter always forgot his, he always came to james' games to cheer him on despite not being interested in quidditch. idk what you people find appealing about remus thinking sirius is a nuisance or annoying when they're dating but it's not <3 he spent years staring at sirius' back during class and being satisfied to just be in his presence because he didn't think he deserved any of it. how could he wish for more when sirius was wrapping an arm around him and whispering the plan to their newest prank? you want me to think the shy boy who looked away anytime sirius made eye contact with him was a smooth talker who found sirius annoying?? at this point he's an oc with remus' face be fr

sirius >>> regulus any day. cry about it

speaking of regulus i hate how the fandom has characterized him. you've created sirius 2.0 with his storyline (while simultaneously slandering sirius' character) and then made him an emo version of remus' already awful characterization. he's not an uwu victim who begged his brother to come with him, he was a blood supremacist who was probably overjoyed that the stain on his family tree was gone. 'i hate you but i love you' describes the black brothers perfectly but that 'but' doesn't undo the hatred they feel for each other. sibling relationship are so complex, especially in a family like theirs, and their relationship would've been turbulent. by the time sirius had ran away i fully believe the hate they felt for each other was bigger than any love they had left. regulus who is a manipulative asshole, regulus who is actively trying to get rid of sirius so he can get to be the heir he thinks he deserves to be will always be more interesting than the way regulus is written in most jegulus fics.

also james would've literally bullied regulus. it's the truth

also, let james be an asshole! let james be a bully! he was a teenager for fucks sake let him be mean and cruel! give him an ego the size of the sun and nothing else to 'make it better'. he was an only child raised in a pureblood family, i would be more surprised if he didn't turn out to be a narcissistic teenager. he was talented and spoiled and wanted everyone to agree with him bc he had never been brought down to earth from his high horse. let him be messy. i don't understand why the fandom has such a problem with complex characters

this fandom hates on severus too much while babygirl-ifying characters who have done the same or worse than him. was he an asshole? yes. was he also a really interesting character that people choose to ignore or push aside bc he's not conventionally attractive? yes. you've idolized barty and evan and regulus, characters who are also canonically death eaters and have done unforgivable things, yet you continue to hate on severus because?? i don't like him either but commenting 'stan bambi' on every single severus edit is a bit too much effort for a character you claim to not give a shit about :/

remus would NOT be friends with barty, evan and regulus. he's a loser and those three would bully him to death

'i wish people would make more marauders era girls content-' 💥💥💥make it yourself. there is PLENTLY of girls content all you need to do is look in the tags (but oh wait you can't look in the tags bc no one in this fandom has apparently heard of fandom etiquette and they're all tagging every ship under the sun on a post about jegulus. trust me, if i wanted to see jegulus content i would go in their tag. now stop tagging it with dorlene and marylily)

idk if this one is that unpopular cause i've seen it around quite a bit recently but the lupins are literally one of the best families and they are so underrated. the relationships between hope and remus and lyall and remus and the effects that remus' lycanthropy has on them is always on my mind fr. you don't need to give every character mommy/daddy issues to make them interesting or complex ❤️

the prank is SO overdone. like every post prank fic is the same shit and i'm tired. sirius felt no remorse, remus called it an unfunny prank, get over it. it can be interesting to explore (especially sirius' thoughts during it and how remus deals with the consequences of one of his best friends betraying him) but so many times the prank has just been used to justify writing remus being so so incredibly shitty to sirius and poking at his every insecurity that at this point i don't even want to read about it anymore. remus had every right to be mad but once again you're ignoring the canon characterization just to make him seem like a badass when he would absolutely not confront sirius about it.

'[girl character] is just the female version of [male character]' literally makes me want to bite someone's head off. how is it that you have time to create whole new personalities for james, sirius, remus and every other male character under the sun but lily, mary, dorcas or marlene don't get that treatment?? slapping sirius' old characterization on marlene or remus' old characterization on lily doesn't make for compelling characters but none of you care enough to actually flesh these women out and make them something more. it's no wonder people complain about them being boring when the main fanon is just slapping on a guy's personality onto them but make it misogynistic. if you can give regulus an entire backstory and justify his every action then you can give the girls some interesting character traits in your works be fr.

rudy solos grant chapman 🫶🏻

#i was in a mood when i wrote this #i'm just tired #HEAVY on the remus and sirius stuff bc i can't stand it at this point #marauders #mwpp #marauders era #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #the valkyries #the marauders #the pantheon

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thedeviltohisangel · 6 months ago

Note

“Are you actually blushing?” “No! Shut up.” & “awww did I flustered you?” For Cass/Bucky please

BLUSHING PROMPT ERA

when you all aren't requesting pow camp angst, you all want more of cass and the egan family. my gift to my few fluff lovers.

Penelope's wails had quieted to tired little whimpers as John paced around the backyard of his childhood home. Her and her brother had been perfectly well behaved on the flight from Virginia to Wisconsin but while Gale had fallen asleep during his bedtime bottle, Penny had decided to test the capacity of her lungs in the midwestern air.

"It's okay, my sweet girl. I know you've had a long day. You must be so tired," John cooed to his baby daughter as he bounced her gently. Her teary eyes were looking up at the stars as he pressed gentle kisses to the side of her head. He hoped Cass had fallen asleep. They both had been running on empty since they became parents three months ago.

"Coming out here always use to work when you were as little as her." John turned to see his mother standing in the doorway to the back of the house, watching her son and granddaughter with a smile on her face.

"Did she wake you? I'm sorry, ma, I tried to get her out here as quick as I could." His mother shook her head and reached for her granddaughter, John passing her off and collapsing into a lawn chair as she took over the calming, rocking movements he had been trying for what felt like hours.

Penelope looked at her grandmother with curiosity and slowly went silent as she grew comfortable in her arms. "How come you and my wife can just look at them and they stop crying but they make me work for it all night?"

"Maternal instinct, Johnny. Cassandra seems to be adjusting to motherhood quite well." John nodded as he took the sleeping baby back from his mother and held her against his chest.

"She's a natural. Barely blinked when the doctors said there was another one right behind Penny." John had been in the hallway raging at the medical staff that was trying to keep him from seeing his wife. His mother didn't need to know that part.

"And you? I remember that one summer you helped with a baseball team, you were so good with them."

"I think I'm getting the hang of it. The half of them they get from me is causing us the most problems but that is to be expected." His mother laughed and he let it wrap around him like a hug. "I never thought about a future that looked like this until I fell in love with her." John kissed the top of his daughter's head and pressed his finger into her little palm that was resting against his chest, her fingers curling around his and his heart skipping a beat.

"I'm glad. I was worried after the last time you were here." His mother hadn't mentioned their time in Wisconsin when she had come with his sisters to South Carolina for the wedding but that doesn't mean she hadn't thought about it.

"That was...we were in a dark place. I didn't mean for it to boil over here but I saw that photo and got that letter and..." He hugged his daughter tighter. He had stormed out of his parents house that night without his wedding band. With the intent of helping Cass book a one way trip to South Carolina to be rid of him and their marriage and the mess he was causing in her life. Had said a million things he regretted and had drank himself to oblivion at the local bar over the idea that he had finally fucked up enough to lose her.

"But now you've got these little blessings. And that absolutely wonderful little dog, John, he really is so handsome." Butter was probably on his half of the bed upstairs as they spoke, sleeping like a rock in Cass' arms. John hadn't even tried to fight bringing him on the trip and hadn't looked at the final cost of bringing a dog on the airplane. His wife assured him it was pennies for the joy it would bring her and the kids to have him tag along.

"Butter? He's trying to replace me."

"Well, I'm sure Cassandra appreciates that he doesn't talk back." John looked up at the sky and prayed for strength. Why did all the women in his life have to be against him?

"Oh, Cass, he's such a handsome little devil just look at him!" Gale giggled as one of his aunt's kissed his cheeks and tickled at his sides. "How on earth did he come from someone like my brother?"

"Your brother is plenty handsome," Cass offered with a smile as she adjusted Penny in her lap, the little girl chewing on the foot of one of the stuffed animals she had just been gifted.

"Don't tell me he makes you do all the work during the making part."

"Yeah, John, your wife deserves to be lavished more often than you do!" his other sister chimed in. He poked his head out from where he was preparing bottles in the kitchen.

"You have no clue how often I lavish my wife!"

"She could always use more." Butter barked in agreement.

"Are you actually blushing?" John asked with a smirk as he offered Cass one bottle and his sister the other.

"No! Shut up." It wasn't that Cass was some kind of prude when it came to talking about her sex life with John. She just didn't want his mother overhearing any conversations of baby making and lavishing.

"Did I fluster you, baby?" John nuzzled his nose into her neck to make her laugh as she lovingly looked on at Penelope eating her second breakfast.

"Just got me thinking about lavishing now is all."

"Yeah? You in need of some?" John said, his voice dropping an octave. She bit her bottom lip and nodded, leaning in to nip at his lips. "Fuck. Yeah, I think you need some real bad, baby."

He was never happier to have his sisters around to baby sit than he was on his knees in the backseat of his old car, his wife's legs over his shoulders and his face buried under her skirt.

#john egan #masters of the air #john egan fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #mota #john egan x oc #answered #cass and bucky

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agirlwholovesrockstars · 9 months ago

Text

when the clock strikes 12

☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆

❣ AGATHA'S MAIN PAGE ❣

Summary : while awaiting for the new year countdown, Eddie had an idea to blow your mind

Word Count : it's for the mini fics section soooo lengthwise? probably solid

Warnings : 18+ (MDNI)SMUT‼️Eddie Munson x FEM!reader, language, slight alcohol consumption, reader and Eddie are both (20), slight somnophilia 🫠, aftercare, no use of y/n, reader is slowly waking up and Eddie asks for permission and if you're still uncomfortable with that please don't continue to read, that's just it really

What to Expect : SMUT and FLUFF, Eddie being a silly goose, set in modern era (of course, there's still a touch of 80's in there), UPSIDE DOWN & VECNA DON'T EXIST IN THIS!

Note To Reader : GIF for this because I'm missed seeing him moving on my fics lmao, also the divider is made by me hehe- I'm literally exposing myself out here, please forgive for my salacious thoughts 🙏🏻 (if you know me in real life? no- you don't 😃)

Author Note : I know I've been long gone for a while but I'm trying my best to post new fics as much as I can! there has been a lot of happenings with my life especially we're having a lot of events like family reunion 🫠 (but it's so much fun tho ngl)

The preparation for new year's is going so well

So well, that you haven't realized how tired you really are

You're so productive that you've used too much of energy on yourself for working to prepare for the party

You wanted this to be perfect

You want everything to be settled in according to your plan

Eddie knows that you're always so "serious" when it comes to decoration and especially when there's an occasion

He loves you for it though, you just don't throw parties

You throw the greatest parties all the time and you never missed

All of your friends are in there, Steve, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle and the freaking kids that you always adored so much

You looked around at everyone in the room

Jeff and Gareth are bantering at each other with some album, Dustin and Lucas fight over which 80's fantasy film is the best, Steve, Robin and Eddie surprisingly getting along with the same pop music artist, you could see the three of them geeking at each other

Max and Jane do makeover at each other which aches your heart of seeing them so close to each other, it's really so sweet to have a real girl bestfriend like that

"I'm gonna refill your glass" Nancy pasts over to you snatching the glass on your hand so swiftly that it makes you snap out of your head

You slowly trying to register what just happened and you smile finally

"More wine? really?" You say as you watch her fill your glass with wine

"Uh, yeah?" she replies with a dramatical jerk to her head as you chuckle

"But it's only 9pm!" you exclaim with wide eyes but a fond smile on your lips

"are you saying that we should only be drinking when the clock finally strikes 12?!?" she says while she fills her cup, she takes glances at you and back to her glass

"Ah- yes, that! exactly!" you point to her using your index finger as you holding your glass of wine

You could already feel yourself getting drowsy a little bit from the wine

Red wine will always make you feel sleepy

You don't even know if it's the alcohol or you just really need to doze off for a minute before you could scream at the top of your lungs for 2024

You don't even know how many glasses that you already take

"Did we just finished the whole bottle?" You feel the world is spinning on you

Nancy, your bestfriend- raises the bottle in front of you as she snorts at your disapproval look

"Kinda?" she says slurring as she smirks at you

"What do you mean? Kinda?!"

"Hey- woah!"

Jonathan passes by and bless him for his instincts because Nancy would've been knocked her head on the counter as she starts stumbling from her stance, he catches her on time

Nancy giggled as you rolled your eyes in annoyance, massaging your forehead

He saw the look from your face as he chuckles

"She got too far again, huh?"

"Yeah, she always does, Jonathan, nothing's new" you reply as you also can't walk properly

"Wait- don't move- should I call-"

Before Jonathan can finish his words, the voice of your boyfriend booms out of nowhere while Argyle tails behind him, looking at you and Nancy

"Sweetheart- how you've-"

Eddie clocked the wine bottle from Nancy hand

"Did you dr-"

"Don't even try it, Ed's" you placed your palm over his mouth as you stumble forward, he immediately wraps his arms around you as you started pressing all of your weight against his chest making the male laugh as he gently hold the back of your head

"Y'all getting drunk already? It's not even 12am yet" Argyle with his iconic tone, you seriously have no idea which one of his voice is normal

You've never heard him talk in normal voice before so you're used to him having that voice that sounds so freaking high as fuck

But, he's a good bud tho, so hilarious

"Blame her, not me! Eddie tell them!" You defend yourself as you put your chin onto his chest as you look at him with a pout on your lips, he smiles as he ruffles his face against yours making your face scrunch up from his action, he laughs again

"What's with all of the commotion?" Steve arrives with hands on his hips

"The two got their selves drunk again" Jonathan points to you and to his girl

"As if that's new" Robin appears in the corner with her arms crossed leaning against the side of the wall

Steve chortles "Wait- you got hustled by Nancy again?"

You groaned from Steve's teasing "yeah, I always fail to see that, thanks" you say

"I told you, you shouldn't brought the wine here, you moron!" Robin uncrosses her arms finally figuring out where the wine misplaced her eyes widen when she saw Nancy holding it, she snatches it making her bite a laugh as Jonathan also connecting the dots at the scene

He pressed his lips together to not burst from laughter

Argyle watches both of his friends having a fit of unnecessary argument

"I think I need to grab a popcorn for this" he leaves abruptly as he looked at your kitchen cabinets and came back munching in a bag of popcorn, very entertained at the scene

"I-I don't know how she got it!"

"Did you hide it properly!?"

"Look- Robs-"

Robin clicks her tongue as she asks "Nancy, how did you get the wine bottle?!"

She turns around with a lopsided smile as Jonathan steadys her

"I just saw it hanging around but-"

"But?"

"I think Steve" she points at him as she chuckles making the boy winces as he finally remembered of what he's done

"Forgotten about it that he left it out there, soooo" she giggles again making Robin grumble as she raises both of her eyebrows at Steve

"Oh- come on!" Steve runs his fingers through his hair as he decides to turn back leaving all of you

"Hey! don't you walk out on me! I paid for that expensive shit-" Robin follows him as she starts pointing everything on him

Argyle, Jonathan, Nancy and Eddie all laughing at the scene while meanwhile you, Eddie could hear you chuckle a bit but you made a little hum

He draws back his attention at you, he looks down at you

"I think I need to doze off for a minute" you say to him with your sleepy eyes

He smiles as he kisses the top of your head he put his arms around you "Yeah, sure"

Eddie says to Jonathan and the rest that you and him will be out for a while, they all nod and said "Don't be late for the countdown"

Your boyfriend leads you to your bedroom as you throw yourself at your bed as he closes the door walking towards you, you lay behind your back as you stretch your whole body, Eddie chuckles at your tipsy behavior

"I love my bed"

"Yeah, you always do"

"Uh huh"

He snickers "Okay, honey, are you well? are you sober?" He leans down at you

"Eddie- you know the alcohol hits harder at Nancy right?"

"I'm just checking you know to see if my girl's alright" he shrugs as he put his hands inside of his pockets

"I'm very much, okay, eds- I'm sssleepy" you yawn as you feel your eyes dropping until it shuts completely

He chuckles as he shakes his head he leans down as he kisses your forehead you smile at the gesture as it makes you even heavier to fall asleep

Eddie watches you sleep as he stands over at the window

The neighborhood outside is quite a watch, everyone is having fun, everyone is having a blast

The music outside is dull but he can hear all of his friends laughter and the screams of excitement from them

He shifts from where he standing as he tears off his eyes from the outside of your window and goes back at you

You turned on the other side, so you're now facing him as you snuggle against your pillow

Eddie smiles to himself, he feels so good having you in his life

He walks towards you as he moves the fallen hair strand on your face

His eyes softens as he sats down beside you

You stirred up from the movement on the bed as you try to open your eyes, you smiled when you realized it's Eddie

You pulled him closer beside you as he lets you take him laying down with you

He put his other arm over you as you cuddled against his chest almost hugging him in the process

You feel more cozier and even more sleepier than before

The moment you move your leg over to his

Your skirt rise up exposing more bare skin to him, his breath hitches at the sight of it

He looks down at you, he double thinked- maybe- it's a bad idea to do this but he wants you so badly right now

He shouldn't even be thinking that you will get mad because hell-

You trust him

So.....

He starts sinking down beside you, you moved slightly as he continues to do his work

He plants hot kisses over your neck when finds your sweet spot- you hum lightly

He's now on top of you, holding your hips, he's positioning you laying on your back, your head is on the side, still sleeping peacefully

He goes over to your chest, you're wearing tube top with a zipper in front, so he has a access to your bare chest, he kisses more and more

Your body couldn't even register what's going on

You felt hot and cold all over because of the midnight's weather and from your body heating up from the tension that your boyfriend is giving you

You feel him going lower and lower but you can still feel your eyes tired

He watches your soft heaves from chest rising up and down, his eyes darkened when he puts his hand inside of your skirt, he slowly reaches at the hem of your panties

He licks his lips, your skin feels on fire because of his fingertips, your stir from your sleep once again but still not opening your eyes

He doves onto your lips, kissing you, and you hummed as you lazily kissed him back

"May I?"

You move your head onto the other side, you catch a glimpse of the clock, it says 11:20pm

"Ed's, we might get late-" even though, you want him to do it

"Please"

You're not even opening your eyes yet but you can see his pleading eyes being directed at you

"Yes, Eddie, you can have me, take it all" you sank down further making Eddie groaned when his fingers touched your center, it's drenched

He hook his fingers on your underwear along with your skirt discarded on the floor

You shudder at the cool air as Eddie positioning himself comfortably

He smears kisses on the inside of your thighs as he goes closer and closer to your core

You moved your head on the other way as you try to close your legs when you can't help but feel the arousal that's coming in

But he places his palms on the sides of your legs spreading you open as you can feel of your insides burning from his touch

His hands are everywhere, when the moment he swiped his fingers at your core, you released lewd noises as your breathing goes quicker

He licked his finger cleaning it off with his tongue, he grins down at you

He holds your hips as he leans down

"Ed-"

Before you can finish your sentence, he doves down lapping at your juices as you gasp from his sudden action

His eyes are glued to you as he continues to do his work, watching your once peaceful slumber turns into pleasure

He devours you so satisfying that it's making you close your legs, he smirks as you can feel his tongue go lower inside, you mewled

He holds you tightly as you grip on the sheets, he sucked more and more of you until your can feel your legs shake

You can feel his hand reaching on the hem of your top, you slightly open your eyes as you find the zipper as you pull it down

He grunts when he saw your breasts that he worships everyday, you loved the way he admires your body

You're now naked so divinely displayed for him

His free hand kneads your boobs as you moaned, he dives back down as he starts to bully your clit

You can feel your body tremble from the sensation forming up in your stomach

You reached for his hair as you pull it making his eyes grow hungrier and eats you like man starved for days

"Oh- Eddie-"

He carries the back your butt as his tongue digs deeper earning a squeal from you when he reaches the spot that you didn't know it existed

Your eyes are heavy-lidded, you try to watch him but you can't when your brain can't place your emotions whether is melatonin or oxytocin

you're not sure at this point but hella you feel so fucking amazing right now

He abruptly stops and when he does, you finally open your eyes

"Wha- what- don't stop!" You whine

"What about the countdown?" His lips are covered with your slick and his saliva altogether not caring a single shit that it's literally dripping down on his chin

You gasp at it as you moaned, he chuckles darkly, you know what he's doing he's teasing you

"Do you know that you're frickin' beautiful without even trying?" He goes at his usual antics as you beg for him to come back down

"Eddie, please!"

"Not until you see stars"

"What-"

Before you can utter another word, he goes back in but this time he places your legs over his shoulders another spectacular angle making you shiver from his touches yet again

He grips your legs, thighs, arms, your belly, he squeezes your boobs and it's literally fucking everywhere

One thing, you know it's for certain that you really would unashamedly come from his simple touches

He pokes his tongue down on you but when he curled it, you chant his name like a prayer, you have the ability to scream his name without being caught in action inside of the room because of the loud noises from the people and the music

Your eyes burn from the threatening tears but Eddie is not having it, he wanted you to fall apart completely for him

You moaning louder and louder when he swipes his tongue on your entrance when he puts your legs down on the bed

"You're still not seeing it, I see"

"D-Don't stop- please"

He opens your legs again as he resume to his mission, he tongue fucks you as he digs in and out, you squirm at it as he starts picking up the pace as you let out a ragged breath

Goddamn, he is killing you right now, you can already die right then and there heavenly

Your mouth falls open without noise coming out of them as you yank his hair, he growls as you couldn't believe that he could reach every spot inside of you

You arched your back as you start grinding against his face, his eyes flashes devilishly mischief as he didn't stop this time

He laps once more until you cry out his name

You jolted when the fireworks exploded booming the entire neighborhood

You come on his tongue as the same time the fireworks started

Your legs are spent, you feel boneless but a sickly smile is now sitting on your lips

He let you get back on earth for a while as he cleans you up, he dresses you up not leaving single skin left behind without his kisses

"You saw it, huh?" He grins like a devil that he is but you love him, he holds the door open for you letting you first outside

You saw all of your friends jumping on to the music and celebrated very happily

"I did" you admit ignoring the rosy tint on your cheeks "and it was much more better"

"Than?" He throws his arms around your shoulders

"The fireworks" you smile as he chuckles as he kisses the top of your head as he squeezes you to his side

#eddie munson #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson supremacy #eddie munson smut #agirlwholovesrockstarsfics

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seishironagi2 · 6 months ago

Text

A Love Across Eras

A/n:ok, guys, I'm back for part 2 🤪 I can't believe you guys actually want more. anyway here is the link to part one if you haven't read it already. It took me too long to figure out how to link something that was embrassing💀

summary: James, Albus, and you try to make a living here.

James Sirius Potter x muggleborn!reader

word count: 797 words

warnings: none

read the previous part: part one

"James, how did you manage to send us 43 years back in time instead of three!" You hiss at the boy while flicking his forehead. "You have to now figure out how to get us home, ya big dumbass," you say, rolling your eyes.

James stands up and runs his hand through his dark brown hair, the stress on his evident when he takes a seat on the sofa, the remaining following sut when they sit on the chair beside them

"uhm, there's more." Albus continues, his eyes never leaving the time turner as he fiddles with it. "it looks like this thing is gone. so we need to fix it first." he says pocketing the now broken time turner

"I have an idea, but it's gonna be risky." james says as he looks at you and Albus.

"What if we ask Uncle Remus to help?" he continues, "he's smart, and out of any of their group, he'd be the one to help us." he says as he scans our faces, looking for our reactions to his plan

"it is possible, but how are we going to convince him to help us, we're just strangers to him. I doubt if we say, 'We're 43 years from the future, and you're the father of our uncle, he'll for sure help us then'." Albus says sarcastically as he leans his head on my shoulder, tired from the travel while his eyes slowly close.

"hmm, what if we instead say We're three years from the future? and the turner stopped working, we could possibly convince him then?" I say as I grab the blanket, covering Albus while he sleeps

after first getting together with James, you made an active effort to get as close to his family as you could, hoping to fit in with them, and you did. all of his cousins and siblings consider you as a part of the family while James' parents made you call them mom and dad. Albus and Lily both considered you James' better half and were closer to you than they were to James.

"How about this - we'll very obviously have to change our name. so, James, your last name is now Walker. I'll keep my name since I'm a muggle-born and Al? your name is Alfred Walker." You say, tapping the boy softly as he hums in response.

"The real and harder question is. where do we sleep and like live? " You say as you bite your nails –a habit you picked up when you were stressed or deep in thought– James' hand grabs yours and holds it, occasionally rubbing his thumb over your hand in a comforting manner.

"Maybe the room of requirement?" he says, looking over at you.

"Remember the spell I was working on with your dad? I could probably use that, but I'd need an unused or empty room, which people wouldn't use much." you say as you look around, hoping to find an empty room

"Oh right, what even was that spell for," James asks, his hand now gently squeezing yours, trying to end those thoughts running around your mind.

"Well, that spell allowed me to make an exact copy of my house and have it with me wherever I go. I know it seems useless in retrospect, but considering who my boyfriend is. it's good to have on hand." you say, smiling with a teasing tone in my voice,grabbing his hand and kissing it.

James smirks and starts to respond when the painting of the common room suddenly slams open, causing Albus to flinch and sit up. a group of four boys enters, following a girl who seems to be angry

"Lily, it was just a joke." says the boy with the glasses as he follows her aimlessly while the rest of the boys make their way to the sofa when they spot you three.

"Who are you guys." the one with the scar says, crossing his arms around his chest as he scans you all, trying to figure out if he's seen you before

well,this is going to be harder than you guys thought.

chap two is done! I hope u guys liked it and more chapters coming out soon :) again, if you have any suggestions or tips for me, please do tell as I want to be good at this :) also, the series name is A Love Across Eras.

part three

#albus severus potter #harry potter #james potter #james sirius potter #lily evans #remus lupin #sirius black #arthur weasley #molly weasley #percy weasley #james sirius potter being stupid #cursed child #marauders era #teddy lupin #lily luna potter #rose granger weasley #hugo granger weasley

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hamiltonfilms · 2 years ago

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Can we get Max x MotoGP part 2? Where she meets someone new and shes glowing and getting on the podiums?

And leave this fucked up place behind

part 1 - "Used to stick together"

Pairing: Max Verstappen x female!reader, lewis hamilton x female!reader

Summary: after cheating and breaking up with max you start to get over it love yourself again and finally meet someone who lets you be yourself

Warnings: alcohol, cigarettes, loving yourself again, partying,

a/n: so I like it and thank you for your request and I look forward to more requests haha, English is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

photo credits: Pinterest

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yourusername summer break and the beginning of the season vibe

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charlottesiine love your aesthetic now girl

yourusername it's not a new aesthetic, I just started taking care of myself Chéri

incidentguy who is the mystery man?

y/nlovverr y/n in her 'it girl' era

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Paris fashion week 2023

Seeing Max and Kelly together for fashion week broke my heart completely. Have I come to terms with the loss, not so much? My love for Max has always known no bounds. We broke up after ten years. Yes, after 10 fucking years. But honestly, it's probably even fun. For these ten years, I have always been in Max's shadow, even though I am in motorsport myself, fans and others have always seen him. Unlike Lewis, whom I have known since childhood. Lewis was about 4 years older than me but he always treated me better than Max. Suddenly someone snapped me out of my trance.

"I wouldn't have expected you here! Y/n it's good to see you" I'd recognize that voice anywhere "Not that I haven't been coming here since I was little! Nice to finally see you Lewis" The sarcasm in my voice was audible to everyone.

We were sitting next to each other, but when I saw who would be sitting next to us, I was terrified. Seeing Max and Kelly cuddling like us just made my heart ache. As I sat down I saw that they were looking at me with surprised eyes I smiled softly and said 'hey'. Fortunately, everything passed quickly and I was hoping that tomorrow I would get another place and if not, I would ask someone to change it. Lewis apologized to me because he had gone with someone to say goodbye and I found that I would quickly escape from there and back to the hotel. Suddenly Kelly started talking to me, I had no problem with her, on the contrary, I used to love her a lot now, but somehow we don't talk too much. Even when I was younger, I had a crush on her. However, our conversation didn't last long because I was a bit tired so I said goodbye to who I had and went to the exit. As I was near the exit door, someone grabbed my arm. When I turned around, I saw that it was Max.

' We need to talk' he gripped my arm tighter. 'we don't have to and you know what I don't even feel like it right now '

"Please give me 5 minutes and let's talk" his expression wasn't very nice "five minutes and seconds no more"

'Thank you! What do you think you'll come here, you'll be nice!' his tone of voice suddenly jumped up which made me flinch 'Listen Max because you're acting like the center of the world after these 10 years I've learned to live in your shadow alley I'm done with it. I'm happy at last and I want it to stay that way"

'you won't find anyone better than me' I took a step further but his tone was getting higher and higher 'anyone who doesn't cheat on me a hundred times will always be better

' 'you little whore, listen to me-' I shuddered again but someone interrupted him 'you must be doing something wrong, buddy, you don't call women that way '

'Y/n are you okay?' that soft lewis voice made me cry. 'Shh, let's go somewhere quiet. Don't be afraid of me sweetheart'

I couldn't calm down, maybe Max was right, I won't find anyone better in my life. Too many negative thoughts ran through my mind. I was sitting in the passenger seat and Lewis tried to calm me down. He stopped at a small shop and went inside. He quickly left with some cheap French wine and quickly left without speaking and just smiling. He stopped at the Eiffel Tower and got out, and so did I. We sat on the ground.

"you know he didn't deserve you he was always just an asshole so secretly I never liked him" a small giggle escaped my lips "you know I don't deserve you"

"Not true! You are unique and will remain so forever."

Lewis opened the wine and drank from Gwent handed me the bottle so I did the same. We started joking and reminiscing about old times and mocking my French accent when I turned 4 and moved to the UK with my mum. I don't know how this time will pass but it was already somewhere after 4 and the sun was slowly starting to dawn so we decided that we would start to gather. He drove me to the apartment I was renting for the duration of my stay in Paris. We were right at the door when I opened it.

"Are you coming in a minute or are you in a hurry?" he just smiled and walked in

He started looking around, and by then I had managed to put the rest of the wine in the fridge.

"what is it? Do I look bad?" just smile "you look like a walking angel"

I felt my cheeks turn red. But he kept staring. I quickly ignored it and went to take off my makeup and change into something more comfortable. I came out of the bathroom and he looked at me

"What?" I said confused. "Red Bull everywhere. would be better in a Mercedes t-shirt, baby"

Maybe if I wasn't driving for Red Bull I would have agreed, but for as long as I can remember he's been at Mercedes and I've been at Red Bull and he's biting me. But it was always fun for him and me, our inside joke. A lot of people thought we were something of a couple, but to him, I'll probably always be like a little sister. We sat on the couch and watched French TV, looking at Lewis' face, he didn't quite understand what was going on. My heart began to sway as Lewis puts his arm around me and laughs at the looney tunes that were on the TV, but I often saw him glance at me out of the corner of his eye. My eyes started to slowly close, I felt safe, I don't even know why. I leaned my head against his chest and started to fall asleep, he started stroking my head which caused butterflies in my stomach. I won't lie that I've always had a crush on him, but I tried to ignore that feeling, but it didn't always work out. I didn't want to ruin our relationship because he treated me like a little sister. I don't know when and how but my phone rang, it was 11 noon God I slept for a while. Next to me he slept sitting up on the couch like me lewis. So it wasn't a dream. It was a pity to wake him up so I quickly turned off the wake up call calmly broke free from the hug got dressed and went for a run because I had to ventilate my mind to think clearly. On the way, I stopped at a cafe for something for breakfast and coffee because there was nothing in the fridge. I came back an hour later and he was still asleep. I didn't have the heart to wake him up, so I tried to be as quiet as possible, but she saw him get up.

"Coffee or breakfast?" I asked in a voice loud enough for him to hear me "you don't even know how much I need this"

All I did was smile and hand him a cup of coffee and a waffle. He looked like a small child enjoying his favorite food. I felt warmth in my heart.

"Y/n we need to talk about something" I don't even know how stressed I was I just hid it under a smile "What's the problem?"

"Because that's the thing. Y/n I've just been in love with you since I can remember and I know it's a shit time cause you just broke up with Max but know that I love you if you don't then I completely understand and let's forget it" I felt that moment was not real and probably just a dream but I always dreamed about it and now I don't know how to act "Lewis because I love you too forever but I was afraid to make a move because I was afraid for our awesome friendship"

"We're both fucked up now will you make this magical moment and be my girlfriend" all I could do was cry and a hesitant "yes" came out of my mouth

"I changed our seats anyway and we won't be sitting next to Max and Kelly baby" I hugged him and felt more tears in my eyes "thank you so much"

He just smiled and went back to eating his breakfast. I went to collect it because there was little time left. Lewis went to the hotel to get himself together and he was supposed to pick me up and he did. Time passed quickly and we were already waiting for a place to sit, but we didn't have to wait long. Luckily Max was out of my sight and I was able to enjoy the show.

yourusername

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yourusername You haven't seen my man 🧡

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charlottesiine girl 😳

yourusername Well, a lot has changed for me

y/nhateclub she's so annoying, yet she found another one to be popular again

inchidentguy y/n and who? Sir Lewis Hamilton?

leclerc16lover I don't think so but we can manifest

yukiswheelsss she said soft launch

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tagged: heidiberger_

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lewishamilton "I mixed a lot of love with a lot of drugs, then I found you."

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yourusername you idiot, that was supposed to be a soft launch, not a fucking hard launch

lewishamilton I love you too sweetheart

susie_wolff you both look lovely, welcome to the family y/n 🧡

^liked by lewishamilton and yourusername

y/nhateclub 🤮🤮🤮

formulalewis they fit together so well

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redbullmotorsports the real RBR monster just wake up

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yourusername 'Cause I'm a fucking legend

leclerc16lover also wants to have an era of rematch and self-love after a breakup like y/n

charlottesiine mon chéri toujours au top

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yukiswheelsss our fav female driver

lewishamilton 💙

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yourusername another day another slay

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charlottesiine always supports you, baby 💗

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stargirllover shes in her taylor swift era

paddockgf she posting pictures of lewis 🥺💙

formulalewis they are so cute

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yourusername Family holidays

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lewishamilton you're glowing darling

yourusername not as you

danielricciardo I'm telling you from Heidi that you look beautiful

yourusername tell her I'm not as beautiful as she is

>>>>>>>>>>>>

a/n: I hope you like it because I tried haha and I'm waiting for more requests

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #lewis hamilton instagram au #instagram au #fake instagram #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #hamiltonfilms

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i-cant-sing · 1 year ago

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Food pusher Keigo hits me where I live.

There was a lot of tough times for food when I was a kid. You could even timestamp certain things by saying "Oh it was during the Potato era." Where all we really had was potatoes to eat, "Oh you mean during the Ramen era?" When it was mostly Ramen.

My brother hates ramen now, from how often he had to consume it as a kid, he grew so tired of the taste it makes him nausous.

My other brother hates potatoes, they don't make him nauseous, he mostly hates it on principle. Which is better then nausea I suppose.

I had a similar problem with rice, dish after dish of mostly Rice, barely seasoned and bland. But I didn't wanna hate food, so when I got old enough I asked mom to buy me spices and vegetables and sauces until I found ones that made the rice taste like love again.

I realize now that I probably got too deep again and this rant has gone on further then expected, but I just want you to know I am now in love with Dad-Hawks.

I hope he and Lil' Y/N get snacks at a Hot Dog stand, I always wanted to try those.

I finally got to after I turned 20, we went to a fair for my little brothers birthday, the hotdogs were so big! We were so happy!

Hawks and Lil' reader need to go to a fair together, have Dabi or Endeavour foot the bill. 😌

Aww man, I'm glad yall doing better now <333 And yes, whenever baby reader and Keigo go out for dinner with Dabi, girl he just paying for everything with the wallet he stole on his way. With Enji, now not only Dad Hawks is putting food on your plate, but we have Godfather Enji straight up feeding you with his chopsticks. Godfather Enji is not taking a whine or a "no more! I'm full!" from you. He will softly glare at you before pushing the chopsticks past your lips.

And you better eat it unless you wanna meet Godmother Rei 🥰

#yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere hawks #yandere endeavor #yandere dabi

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gritsandbrits · 1 month ago

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Since today marks the 40th anniversary of thomas and friends (the show) I'd like to share personal story.

I first got into thomas when i was a little girl. I wasn't scared of the sudden closeups on the characters faces, or the crashes or the unmoving expressions. It was quite the opposite, i was fascinated. There was something about the vibe that drew me in. It wasnt a cartoon but it wasn't realistic either. The characters didnt have traditional voice actors yet they had a personality and charm that made me eant to see what will these guys do next.

We had tapes of the Alec Baldwin and George Carlin narrations, I used to play Make Some Happy on Repeat. I think i still have it, it's in storage and i hope to burn in onto a disc one day.

I was surprised when the show transitioned to CGI. But i still wasn't entirely against it. If anything i wanted to see where it would go. I was pleased when the show finally had dofferent VAs for the characters. Narration was great and all but i loved the idea of the guys having their own VAs and got a little tired of the female characters sounding the same. Eve. When the show started to get bad, even during the Dharon Miller era, i still got my ass up as 7 am in the morning to watch episodes on pbs kids every Sunday. I didn't care. I just liked watching colorful trains and loved seeing new characters and locations.

Thomas gotten me through some pretty rough patches in childhood, and I had a lot. It showed me a world where problems can be eaisly fixed and mistakes arent the end of the world. It taught me it was okay to ask for help, that i shouldn't tackle everything by myself. Now, you might be surprised giving i tend to criticize a lot of stuff but I am also someone who embraces change. In a way, the shoes ups and down taught me sometimes you just have ti acceot everything will not be exactly the same as you want.

It's this mindset that's currently helping me through another rough time. I admit, i was too hard all all Engins go, but watching some if the episodes I came to actually like some of it. Thought it probably helped that i got turned off by the massive backlash, I felt other fans were too harsh to the point of bein downright gross. I don't want to be like them. So i had to let go of that anger and see the positive AEG has. Ironically it was this specific incarnation that really got me into drawing fanart, which was how i came up for my Shining Time Station reboot.

Without thomas, i wouldn't have met my friends. I wouldn't have gotten back into art, since i have drawn some ttte art and even rewriting the magic railroad. Speaking of, TATMR got me into fantasy, I remmberthe first time I watched it was on HBO kids and was intrigued because it literally never referenced in the shoe and i didnt grow up with Shining Time. For all its faults I still enjoy the movie. I'm even making a custom ken doll of Junior conductor. I credit thomas for helping me find my true love with Junior, i dont care if he's fictional, he's my f/o and I care about him greatly.

As for the blue man himself, I relate to thomas a lot. We're both bossy and tempered, but we're also friendly and hardworking. We slip up and pick ourselves back up. I guess, seeing thomas handling failure has gotten me to reconsider how I've been viewing life and needing yo stop defining myself on my faults. He's flawed yet still likable and beloved, so maybe, I can have a chance too.

I used to think the color blue is overrated, moresore than pink, but thanks to rediscovering Thomas, I now admit I love the color blue. It reminds me of thomas and how i should work on improving myself and my worldviews.

So, thank you thomas and friends. Thank you for being in my childhood and reminding me Adulthood should'nt have to be a cesspool of misery. I can't wait to see what the next 40 years would bring!

#gb asks #thomas and friends #tatmr #shining time station #thomas the tank engine

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vivinens · 1 year ago

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attention, please !

character(s): childe.

summary: he's a famous musician, and you're just his tired doctor being dragged along for the ride.

modern au. female reader. thank you all so much for the love on my previous post, i wasn't expecting my first one to do so well...! i hope you enjoy this longer one shot <3

You have got to be seeing a mirage, hallucinating, or both. There is no other explanation for why you can clearly see worldwide pop-rock sensation Childe hanging around inspecting heads of cabbage at your local supermarket.

You almost walk into a column when you see him, your shoes squeaking obnoxiously loud against polished concrete. You're sure your stance is reminiscent of those who come face to face with a tsunami or some similarly awful natural disaster.

You see Childe right in front of you, and you're dressed in yesterdays sweatpants with remnants of runny teary mascara on your cheeks. You can't go up and ask for his autograph. Your pride hardly let you go out in public after a week of sulking over your latest breakup, and now it's challenged by this? You must be being tested by some higher power.

He's still looking at the cabbages. How different could they be from each other? It's been multiple minutes. God, his hair looks even more perfectly disheveled in person. You suppress the urge to fall to the ground and pray for mercy.

He finally picks out one. You breathe in deeply, resolutely, and turn away. How didn't he notice you? He must be used to eyes on him at all times. You begin trying some breathing exercises as you guide your cart full of comfort food to the self checkout. You start trying to convince yourself, maybe it wasn't even him, it was probably just a trick of the light. Even though that was definitely him—he even has that burn scar on his forearm he talked about on some late night talk show a few years back.

"My little sister is not to be trusted in the kitchen," he laughed as the camera zoomed in on his arm, and the crowd laughed alongside him. You distinctly remember crying over the sight of his bare wrist like some fragile victorian-era duke.

...Whatever, so maybe it is him. So what? Who cares? Certainly not you! You're an adult woman with bills to pay, not a little girl that has posters with fraying edges on her wall.

You finish checking out your groceries, internally screeching all the while. It's only when you're back in your car, safe and sound and alone, that you allow yourself to scream loud enough to alert passerby.

You comfort yourself by saying it was over now. You never had to see his beautiful face again—everything was totally and completely under control.

"Hello," one of the nurse's assistants, Sucrose, knocks on your already opened door politely. "Sorry to bother, but your patient is ready for you now."

You look up at her over your cup of disgustingly unflavored coffee—you had felt like you needed it after your hellish rounds this morning. You're sure you look as dead as you feel, because Sucrose shies away from your stare. God, you hope you remember to apologize to the poor girl later.

"Patient? I'm not due for another appointment until ten, with Mrs. Peterson?" Your voice comes out slow, tired.

Her face falls, "No one told you? This patient needs to see a specialist as soon as possible, you should have been notified this morning..."

Knowing your luck and the morning you've had, it was probably your fault you messed up the schedule. You thank Sucrose for letting you know, and ask her to guide you to the exam room the patient is waiting in.

She briefs you as much as she can on the patient and his situation. Apparently, he was having problems with a strained voice and his agent forced him into seeing a specialist. As you flip through his files, you silently think to yourself that it's likely nothing too serious or rare. He's a young man who doesn't smoke with a relatively normal medical history, and if anything this was just a case of a vocal cord lesion or something similarly benign.

You enter the examination room, your eyes still on the blood work he had done, and spout a script about your name and routine checkups. It's a wonder how you hadn't noticed it at that point, looking back on it.

"...aren't you a little young to be a doctor?" The patient suddenly says, voice so hoarse you almost don't recognize it. Keyword almost. It takes everything in you to not let your jaw drop in shock.

No, no, you would not let this get you. You were a doctor, damn it. A professional. You worked your ass off for eight years to get where you are now, and you would not let that wash away like sidewalk chalk when it rains—even if Childe is your patient.

Deep breaths. Just breathe. Think of this like its a test.

"I'm twenty-six, but really, I don't see how my age has anything to do with your vocal chords," you smile brightly, your act perfectly in place. This was fine, you can work with this. "Did you have anyone who could speak in your place? I'd rather you not strain your voice any more than you have to."

Instead of answering, he lets out a low whistle, which is actually quite amazing considering how fried his vocal chords sound. "Twenty-six? And you're the Laryngologist my agent recommended?" He flashes a smirk. Practiced, totally fake, but it still sends your heart dropping down to your feet. "Impressive."

Your eye twitches. Why is he trying to draw out conversation like this? What is his goal? Because right about now, all he's succeeding in doing is slowly killing you.

"Thank you, Ajax—" his name, oh god you just said his name, "—but about someone to speak for you...?"

"My agent is busy trying to fix things for my upcoming tour," he sighs loudly, scratching the back of his head as he does. "And my parents are in Europe for their anniversary..." he looks up at you sheepishly. "I'd rather not worry my mother with this, you see."

You nod along. You already know he has a chronic case of Mama's boy, after being a fan of his for over a decade you've seen plenty of clips of him talking about his mother and all she does for him.

"I see. Well then, I'll handle the talking from now on, alright? Let's get started on a routine checkup." You say, placing your clipboard on the available counter. You're surprised the damn thing didn't break in two with how hard you were gripping it.

You perform the checkup with minimal issues, thankfully. A wave of guilt washed over you right before you began, and it practically scared you into being as impartial as possible. Childe—Ajax... he should have a doctor who wouldn't have shaky hands when pressing against his back for a heartbeat check.

He deserves a good doctor, and damn it all if you're not going to be the absolute best you can be. After about ten minutes of routine checkups, you're no closer to getting your diagnosis. You sigh before reluctantly telling Ajax the news.

"You'll need to come in tomorrow for a laryngoscopy," you say, fully absorbed in your observations as you think over what exactly you should be saying. "I'll be able to say something more definitive then. Make sure you prepare for the procedure—and get someone here with you, alright? You won't be able to drive yourself home afterwards."

He hums in reply, quiet and so unlike the Childe you've seen over the years. He looks... not worried, per say, just tired. A lot like you, actually. You're sure he's been stressed, a planned nationwide tour cannot be easy to organize. And this vocal injury must have only added to the stress, you feel your heart ache, and in a moment of pure determination, you open your mouth to speak again.

"I'm sure it's only a lesion," your voice is softer than it has been, a pitiful attempt at reassurance. "If you're diligent about rest, you should be able to have your treatment and recovery finished in just under a month."

He softens just a bit at that, sighing quietly as he collects himself to leave. Its a few short minutes of quiet as you read over everything you had recorded during the exam, when you hear him walk over to you. You're expecting him to shake your hand, or ask for a pen, or like, do anything other than what he does next.

He leans down, which is quite far considering you're still sitting, and his lips are right beside your ear when he whispers;

"Thank you."

He leans back up, smiles down at you, and walks out of the exam room; any previous trace of doubt or tiredness completely wiped from his person. You wish you could say the same for yourself, because you sat there for the next twenty minutes, contemplating the meaning of life.

Your choice of career was clearly a mistake.

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #💬 vivi is typing

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