#andrew you're staring
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101 Ways Not to Say I Do ! excited for start of it
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"And how do you know that, Hemmick?" Neil said, keeping his voice calm even as he wrapped his free arm around his waist, one of the tell-tale signs of nervousness that he always displayed when he felt he was backed into a corner. Andrew didn't think Neil was aware that he was doing it, actually.
"It's called the internet, idiot!" Nicky said. "There's only one place you two could have gone to, and it's not just some tourist trap. It's a place for people who are eloping."
Neil passed the phone back to Andrew, who begrudgingly let it fall back into his hand. Andrew zoned out Nicky's nagging as Neil turned as if to head towards the shower. He reached out and caught Neil's shirt before he could get very far, instead tugging Neil closer to him. Neil's piercing eyes scanned Andrew's features, finding amusement in something that he found there, and folded his arms around Andrew's shoulders. Andrew also knew that Neil could feel his accelerated pulse through his shirt, or take note of how Andrew's gaze was glued to Neil's lips, watching as they curled into that infuriating smirk of his.
But of course, when Neil shifted to lean in, it broke enough of the spell to let Nicky's voice invade his consciousness again. "—Drew? Andrew? You two had better not be fucking right now. In case you forgot, I need you to pick me up from the airport. Now."
Andrew clenched the phone a little tighter as he was distracted from the man in front of him. "Which exit?"
"Any. Just call me when you're here."
Andrew hummed his acknowledgement and hung up.
MASTERPOST
#aftg#all for the game#andrew minyard#neil josten#the foxhole court#andreil#aftg neil#aftg andrew#nicky hemmick#101 ways not to say i do#andrew you're staring#capcavan#Cap I'm sorry you have to have more Andreil in your inbox#if it makes you feel better I'm thinking of having Riko in this AU#your boy will perhaps make an appearance at some point#idk there is no plot if I'm being honest#anyway thank you I love you <333#ww013 4.10.2023#wip wednesday#lee's writing shenanigans
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#Andrew Lincoln#*#andygifs#A SPECIMEN™#H A N D S#you're under arrest#put your hands where i can hold them#im just staring#it's been a monday™#even his wrists are nice i hate myself#always touch your face#art touching art really#your bone structure my dude
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I think an early and overlooked aspect of why Andrew starts liking Neil is simply that Neil is the first person to casually engage with him on his level
Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin love him but they don’t really get him in every day interactions. It’s a lot of “… Ok, whatever you say, Andrew.”
And we know the upperclassmen tend to just outright dislike anything he says or does and uses it as proof of him being heartless and violent
Renee gets the closest because she does get him and goes along with him but they ultimately have very different views of life
Whereas Neil, before he even likes Andrew at all, just matches his energy.
“If I can’t get an answer from you, I’ll get it wherever I can. How about I start with your parents?”
“Good luck,” Neil said, feeling cold all over. “They’re dead.”
“Did you kill them?”
He [Andrew] said it so casually, like he was asking for the time, that Neil could only stare at him for a minute. It was such an unreasonable leap of logic Neil didn’t understand how he even thought to ask it. Then he remembered who he was talking to and asked, “Did you kill yours?”
—
“Neil said. "I'm not afraid of you."
“That's why you're so interesting," Andrew said. "How aggravating."
He sounded amused, not annoyed, so Neil said, "I'll try to be more boring in the future."
“How considerate.”
—
And for a guy who desperately wants connection and has never fully gotten it, it must have been as close to fun as Andrew has getting to bounce back and forth with Neil. He could threaten to saw Neil in half with a rusty blade and Neil will just be like “Hotdog or hamburger style?”
#Andrew’s whole thing of being like oh shit this one is actually interesting#aftg#all for the game#andreil#andrew minyard#neil josten
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Fans making a youtube video with the title:
"Neil josten when Andrew"
and it's like:
*reporter: Neil Josten! people say Andrew m-
Neil: nope, imma stop u right there. you bring Andrew up again and we're having a big problem here. I'm tired of your never ending self made drama about my teammates.
*reporter, Again: Neil Josten! there has been rumors about your current goalie Andr-
Neil: there has been rumors about your mother as well, actually! people say his son doesn't have a better job to do than making a shit amount of money out of people's private life.
*camera on Neil staring at Andrew in a middle of a warm up before a match.
*camera on Kevin talking to Neil, Neil literally zoning out, then turning his head around and looking for something. kevin sighs, then points toward Andrew in the corner. Neil's face lighting up
*camera on Neil looking at Andrew in the goal when he's standing out for the game and doing a "Andrew smile" soft and proud and literally heart eyes.
*camera on Neil punching a stricker for shoving Aaron.
*camera on Neil turning toward Andrew everytime he scores.
*more Neil staring at Andrew
*another stricker yells something at Andrew mid game,
Neil punching the guy in the guts, twice, walking toward the referrer, snatching a red card before the referrer could even offer it, and punching the stricker dude twice more
*reporter: Neil josten, your goalie Minyard did an excellent performance at this game, do-
Neil: OH MY GOD, RIGHT????? like, wow that was amazing. he is amazing. I've been obsessed with exy since i was a kid, and I've seen really, really great things in exy, but this? that defense? that was the greatest thing I've ever seen. he didn't let a single goal in. like-*endless yapping*
*reporter: Neil josten, how's playing with Minyard?
Neil: good, he keeps me on my knees.
Neil:....
Neil: TOES. HE KEEPS ME ON MY TOES.
*Camera on Neil laughing so hard at something Andrew said with complete deadpan
*a tweet that says "i wish Andrew Minyard would bench press me" and has a "liked by Neil josten" above it.
*Camera on Neil threatening a nurse at the hospital to let her see Andrew, who was hurt mid game.
then again, camera on Neil shouting "ok then I'm buying the fucking hospital"
*Camera on Wymack trying to prevent Neil from buying the hospital
*reporter: Neil josten you look fabulous tonight! can you tell us what brand you're wearing?
Neil: i have not a single idea, Andrew picked it up
reporter: you just wear whatever he picks up for you..?
Neil: yuP.
*Foxes on tv in a quiz show, camera on Neil taking Andrew's coffee mug, taking a sip, put two sugar cubes in it, blowing it a bit to cool down then handing it to Andrew and turning to the host: excuse me what were you saying?
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❝late-bloomer❞
plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.
a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha
Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"
You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.
You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."
No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.
But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."
"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."
"I'm serious, Pete."
He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."
"How did it feel? Do you know?"
"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."
Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.
You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."
You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.
A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"
"Hm?"
"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."
Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"
A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.
You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.
But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.
At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.
Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.
But it wasn't laughing you worried about.
"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.
Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."
Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.
Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.
"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"
There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."
Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"
"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."
"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.
You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.
It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."
"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."
You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."
You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.
Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."
It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."
"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"
"I really don't want to. Move."
"Why are you shutting me out?"
"Because I want to go home. Move."
"Is it because of what I said?"
"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."
The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.
Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.
"I'll see you later, Pete."
You let his front door shut on its own.
It hasn't been great.
What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.
You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.
So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.
It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.
And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.
Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.
You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-
He's sitting in your kitchen.
Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.
You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."
Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."
Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"
"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.
You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."
"Busy avoiding your best friend."
You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.
The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.
"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."
Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.
"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."
"It's not a big deal?"
"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."
"So it doesn't matter at all."
"Correct."
"Right."
"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."
You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.
Suddenly, you're released.
You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."
You smile, "And I appreciate that."
Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"
"Zilch. Nada."
"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."
You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"
"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."
Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."
"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"
"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."
"And now we do."
"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"
He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."
You're six years old again.
You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.
You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.
And you're thinking... you start thinking something.
You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.
Peter's still staring at you, waiting.
Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.
But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.
You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.
When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.
Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."
Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.
Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."
He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."
You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.
Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.
You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.
You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"
You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"
Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."
"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."
"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"
"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."
"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."
Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"
His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."
You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.
Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."
"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"
"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"
You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."
You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.
This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.
So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.
Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.
You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"
You nod, speechless.
Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."
You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."
Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."
"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"
"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"
You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.
He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.
Did it? You stare up at Peter.
"We can try as many times as you want."
You might have a very different problem than you started with.
taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes
#peter parker x reader#peter parker scenarios#peter parker imagines#peter parker fic#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker#spiderman x reader#spiderman scenarios#spiderman imagines#spiderman fic#spiderman fluff#spiderman angst#andrew garfield#spider-man#marvel#mjwrites#tasm
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Objectively speaking, Neil should have issues with his sight if not be completely blind in one eye, at least the one near the burn scar.
For plot reasons none of this happened, but logically speaking being burnt so closely to your eye would damage the capillaries and the general sight + the other eye wouldn't be safe either because of the cuts, they got pretty close to it more than once so it should have some kind of damage.
This came up to me while i was thinking about Andrew discovering Neil's blind spot and using it so he can gaze at him for entire minutes until Neil finally turns around and catches him. (he calls this "observing" and "checking he's not hurt", but everyone knows he's just lovingly staring at Neil) (("You're staring" "No I'm not." "You were!" "Shut up, Josten."))
Neil at first doesn't even notice it, he knows that Andrew is always standing close to him, whether or not it's in his blind spot, so he doesn't bother turning to check, until one day someone sits on Neil's side before Andrew can and the blond almost breaks hell loose for his place. Neil calls himself stupid for not catching it earlier and the foxes are not even surprised it took him months to become aware of what was happening mere inches from him.
(everyone should thank @sapphoherselz for this one, she screamed at me to post this after i spent a good half an hour yapping)
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pairings: hiram lodge x male reader
request: I don't know if you're taking requests or could I request a dom top Hiram Lodge and bottom femboy 19 year old male leader who is Archie's brother and Veronica's best friend and one night stayed with Veronica and catches Hiram in the kitchen naked and hard so he talks to his knees starts licking and sucking Hiram big cock and Hiram started Facefucking until he fills his mouth full of c** throws him on the kitchen table and fucking Reader hard by covering his mouth until he breeds the reader.
warnings: SMUT, anal sex, breeding, swearing, cum consumption, slurs.
Your brother Archie warned you about staying at the Lodge's house. He had some bad history with Hiram and was worried he may take it out on you while you were staying the night with Veronica, and in a way... that's exactly what happened. Once Veronica had fallen asleep, you were practically dying of thirst. You stumbled your way through the dark, making your way to the kitchen, your eyes widen in shock as you stand slightly away from the kitchen doorway submerged in darkness, Hiram Lodge was in the kitchen... naked and rock hard, full cock and balls on display.
You let out a quiet gasp and cover your mouth, trying to remain silent as you stay back in the darkness. Hiram turns around and immediately stares into the darkness where you hide, "Come out," he says firmly, in a dominant tone. You obliged and slowly step out of darkness and into the kitchen, you gently rest you arms against the marble island in the middle of the kitchen while Hiram leans his muscular arms against them on the other side. "You're Archie Andrew's brother, aren't you." He says through gritted teeth and disgust when he mentions your brothers name.
You slowly nod your head, lost for words, and be unable to speak partly because he scares you so much but also because he is butt naked, showing everything and anything to you, his cock is laying down on the counter. He slowly creeps round the counter, his cock swinging back and forth as he walks over to you. Once he finally makes his way over to you, his body completely towering over you, a surge of submission takes over your body. Something about his dark aura made you want to completely submit your life to him.
Then Hiram let's out a command that leaves you stunned and shocked, "get down on your knees and suck my cock like a good faggot, mi amor." He says in a seductive whisper to you, his thumb gently grazing across your lower lip. Without a fight, you slowly get down on your knees, your silk pyjama shorts ride up your ass giving Hiram the perfect over shot of your ass, once you are face to face with his cock you lift up his cock with your tongue while looking up at him, you take his cock immediately to the back of your throat. Gripping against his cheeks to hold yourself steady.
You slowly take your time, tasting every inch of his cock coating it all in your saliva. Your gags and moans just from cock sucking drives Hiram crazy, "If I'd known your were such a faggot for cock I would've done this ages ago!" He says while gripping your hair. Your eyes roll back as you allow him to take control and let his cock absolutely destroy your mouth. He grips either side of your head using your mouth as his personally cum dump, his cock twitches in your throat as he spurts out his cum filling up your mouth with his creamy cum.
A fulfilled smirk crosses your face as his cock flops out of your mouth, a mouth full of cum and it's the happiest you've ever felt. "Now swallow like a good boy!" He says while gently slapping your cheeks, you swallow his sweet cum making sure every last drop is traveling down your throat. He leans down to pick you up, laying you down on the marble island, grabbing your legs to keep them open and wide, revealing your tight pink pucker to him.
He spits down at your hole, using the tip of his cock rubbing it all over before pushing his cock past the tight ring of your hole your eyes widen feeling his cock open up your walls in a way like never before. He leans closer to you, hovering above you so you can stare up at him as he milks your sweet spot, "d-daddy!" You blurt out feeling his cock fuck you and destroy your hole. Hiram grips your throat choking you as he fucks you back and forth, he removes one hand from your throat and moving it down to your nipple tweaking it causing pleasure to run up and down your body.
With one thrust into your g-spot, you become a moaning mess to the point Hiram has to silence you by covering your mouth, "mhm!" You whimper out as he covers you mouth as continue to thrust up into you, fucking your hole to the point it's borderline abuse on your hole but you don't want him to stop ever but you can tell that it's coming to an end. "Faster!" You whimper out against his hand as he thrusts a couple more times before shooting his load deep inside you hole, letting out a loud groan "..fuck!" He lets out.
He continues to fuck his cum up into your hole with a few more thrusts, breeding your faggy boy-pussy before pulling out, he scoops you up and carries you to his bedroom and laying you down on the bed "round two in the morning" he whispers into your ear, kissing your cheek as he lays next to you.
taglist - @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318
#hiram lodge#hiram lodge x male reader#hiram lodge smut#hiram lodge x male reader smut#x male reader#x male y/n#fanfic#gay#male reader#smut#hiram lodge gay#hiram lodge gay smut#mark consuelos#mark consuelos x male reader#mark consuelos x male reader smut#gay smut
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Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…
warnings: jelousy
a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request
It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...
and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face once... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.
But it still wasn't hate
Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits
And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?
"You're staring"
Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you
"I just don't get why he's here"
You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"
"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,
"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"
Yeah right
He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.
You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen
he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,
and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.
"I saw him look at you before"
This time, you did let out a little snort
"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"
But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you
"I'm sorry to interrupt-"
Then fucking don't
"I just wanted to introduce myself"
Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior
"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy
"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"
As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists
This fucking guy-
"Hi pal"
Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off
"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"
The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea
"Oh, I didn't know you were married"
Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room
Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much,
How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?
It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious
"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"
"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him
"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"
Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye
"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"
Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it
He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement
"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"
Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly
"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"
"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder
You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place
"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement
"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""
Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head
"listen, man-"
"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"
Shawn let out a loud breath before responding
"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"
"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"
You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time
"that was a bit harsh"
Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist
"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked
Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength
"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck
"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x f!reader#pedro pascal blurb#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal x fem reader#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal x fem!reader#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#dad!pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller#tlou#the mandalorian#javier peña#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#fluff#daddy pascal#pedrohub#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedrito#pedro pascal x gn reader
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hey, love your fic recs, would love to see youtuber au if you have any 🥰
Thank you! Now, here's what I found:
Of Green Beans and YouTube by nerdfightingwhovian
Stiles has a YouTube show that is essentially Hannah Hart's "My Drunk Kitchen" where he cooks food drunk but actually pretty well. Derek is a serious chef on YouTube. He has cookbooks that you can buy in actual stores and stuff. He's the real deal.
Stiles' video-block is fixed when he stumbles across Derek guest-starring on a Food Network show. In a rush of inspiration he starts a new series where he cooks Derek's recipes drunk. Derek finds out about the show and instead of being angry, he's intrigued by the guy cooking and throwing things around his kitchen while drinking too much alcohol.
Who's Sourwolf?? by Star_crossed02
Based on Kris' prompt:
YouTuber Stiles doing a livestream when mysterious boyfriend comes in to kiss Stiles and everyone freaking out.
I twisted it a bit, but hopefully you'll like it.
Stop @’ing Me (It’s Giving me Anxiety) by isthatbloodonhisshirt
Derek… had no idea what to say. Or how to react. Or what to even feel.
What the hell was going on?
He immediately went to YouTube to check his video, and the first thing he noticed was that his subscriber count had indeed changed, just as he’d suspected.
Except not in the direction he’d anticipated.
When he’d gone to bed, he’d still been a few thousand subscribers away from one million. Something like seventeen or eighteen thousand away.
He was now staring at his subscriber count sitting at over one million by a fair margin.
“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself, and went to look at his newest video about AllAboutMischief. It was sitting at three-hundred thousand views in the first hour, and had more comments than he’d ever gotten on any of his videos since he began uploading.
“What the fuck?” he whispered again, a little more desperately.
I'll Be Your Robin by mikkimouse
"You're sitting in my background!" Stiles waved behind him. "Can't you just scoot to the left by, like, two feet? Or go to the library until I'm done?"
Derek scowled, and really, that angry look shouldn't turn Stiles on as much as it pisses him off. "I don't have room to scoot two feet to the left. And the last time I left the room while you were recording, I ended up getting stuck outside until midnight."
"I had to do multiple takes!"
Derek's scowl didn't lift. "You yelled at me when I came in here to go to bed."
Good for you by lilysaid
Completely by chance, I saw a "human boyfriend for werewolf roleplay" ASMR video on YouTube and thought 1. Stiles would totally do something as reckless as making an ASMR channel for werewolves 2. He would be really good at it and 3. It would definitely blow up in his face.
The Curly Fries Show with Stiles Stilinski by greenleaf
“Curly fries are only for the brave, so is love.” -- Five times Stiles interviewed celebrities for his popular YouTube show, ‘The Curly Fries Show with Stiles Stilinski’, and one time he was the one interviewed.
Or
Five times Stiles hung out with his attractive, adorable, bashful, architect building-mate Derek Hale and one time he hung out with his attractive, adorable, bashful, architect building-mate, boyfriend Derek Hale.
Ink Me by AsagiStilinski
Derek is never going to find his soulmate, because there's no way in hell there exists a man named Mieczyslaw in Beacon Hills
Then Erica hires Stiles
Daddy Do's by apocryphal
“Hi Mr. Stilinski!” Lydia said pertly. “My name’s Lydia, and this is my daddy. His name is Derek Andrew Hale and he watches all of your videos on YouTube a lot, but he still can’t braid.”
[Stiles is a celebrity YouTube hairstylist. Derek may or may not have a crush. Lydia just wants a French braid for school picture day.]
My Stupid Boyfriend Tag by ALoza
Stiles is a Youtuber, and this is Derek's first time on camera.
Thirsty and trapped by TalesoftheEnchantedForest
Stiles has a YouTube channel and decides to film a video where he reacts to thirst traps.
Then he promptly falls in love with one of the men, but it's not like they would ever meet in real life, right?
Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | magical Stiles | mafia | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse
#sterek#sterek fic#stiles x derek#eternal sterek#sterek fanfic#stiles stilinski#derek hale#sterek fanfiction#sterek fic rec#derek x stiles#teen wolf#teen wolf fic#teen wolf fanfic#teen wolf fanfiction#teen wolf fic rec#anon asks#hedwig221b replies
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can i request a andrew x reader thing where reader is his lover, his girlfriend, and they are like head over heels in love with eachother, and reader is a female, but for some "traumas" shes a bit nervous to lose her virginity to him. shes also kind of insecure, because of the fact she isnt very feminine, and bcuz of her looks.
(if youre not comfortable with writing this its completely fine!!)
genre: nsfw, smut
character: andrew graves x reader
warnings: praise kink, body dysmorphophobia (?), trauma, virginity loss, cum
a/n: thank you for requesting! i can relate to this as i always make my ocs like this. also, sorry it took long, i'm busy with life
It started with the two of you hanging out and enjoying each other's company. Then, a kiss. And that leads to a make out session.
For Andrew, it was hard for both his self-control and his dick. He couldn't help that you got him turned on and horny now. Of course he doesn't blame you, no. Andrew is mature. He knows himself that he is too in love with you. He loves you so dearly that he couldn't bear to think of you with any other guy. He loves so dearly that he gets hard every time you're close to him and he can smell your sweet perfume. And those times, he always excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
But somehow he's always nonchalant about it and you find it attractive. Obviously, you know the reasons he went to the bathroom but you don't really understand why.
Why did he get turned on seeing your body? It wasn't curvy. You don't have big boobs or squishable ass.
His hands always run down your hip and up to your waist, playing with the fat there while kissing. Sometimes even fiddling the hem of your shirt, pulling and twirling, asking for your permission to go further.
You don't say anything nor give a sign. You were nervous. How do you do this stuff? How do you initiate? What do you have to do? So, you let him do his thing.
That's when he pulls away, leaving traces of saliva connecting from your lips. His green eyes looked at yours, pleading. You know what he wants but again, how do you initiate? Are you even able to go all the way with him?
He senses your unsure feeling and lifts himself up. The warmth radiating from his body is no longer there. "We don't have to do it, y'know. I'm not forcing—"
You grab his sleeves, even more worried about him than yourself. "It's fine. It's just . . ." You were embarrassed to say that you have no idea what to do yet you know he knows that you're a virgin, but he doesn't know that you were somewhat scared of losing it. It's just the thought of putting something foreign inside you is . . . weird and sounds uncomfortable.
"I'll guide you. I promise I'll be gentle," he says so softly it's soothing. His lips pull into a smile, an endearing one that doesn't show any mischievous hint. He pecks your forehead with thumb strokes on your temple. Despite the soft touches, his dick was undeniably rock hard you can feel it brushing on your thigh.
His hand slips inside your shirt and moves upward, riding up your shirt but stopping at the edges of your bra. If you weren't wearing any, he would've reached your nipples for not even feeling the mounds of breasts from how flat it becomes when you lie down. He stares down at you pleadingly before sliding behind you to unclip your underwear.
You were getting nervous once he sees them. What if he's disappointed? What if it turns him off—?
You hear a moan coming from Andrew once he touches one of your nipples. You also let out a sigh from the touch. He pulls off your shirt and bra together and gazes at your naked body.
"Fuck," he moans again under his breath. Oh shit, does he hate it?
He dives into your nipples and gives a hard suck, proving your point wrong. You whimper and that really seems to motivate him. He licks it, suckles on it, even bites it. Your idle nipple has already been paid attention with his fingers, pinching and pulling and flicking. All of it made your head swirl that you can only think of Andrew and the amazing sensations. You've been moaning for him your pussy is getting wet.
When you whimper, he would look up at you but his mouth is still occupied with your nipples. Sometimes you can even feel him smirk.
Once he's satisfied, he switches to the other one. You find the saliva connecting from his lips to your nipple hot. His empty hand starts to inch its way down to your pants. He slips inside and circles on your clothed clit. You gasp, your body reacting to the attention. Your legs automatically close around his hand it made him open it up again and pinned one of your legs down. You whine when he continues to rub on your clit. Your legs keep thrashing but his smile gets wider and his breathings are labour. Somehow, your reaction excites him.
He fully pulls off your pants, leaving your panties on just to purposely pull it aside. He rubs a few on your clit before diving a finger into your hole. When you feel it prodding at your entrance, your eyes widen and you quickly push his hand away without thinking before realizing what you did. You look at him apologetically, but he was fast to reassure too. He kisses your lips and all over your face to distract you. Andrew tries again, touching your hole and slowly pushing it in. Gladly, this time you didn't squirm away.
"Good girl, that's it. You're doing great," he talks you through it before moving his finger. You gasp again but he keeps whispering sweet nothings and praises in your ear.
"Everything's okay. Just relax, alright?" Another kiss on your forehead and you're melting into him.
He picks up his speed, still focusing on your expressions for any signs of discomfort. He adds another finger in and you moan. Your mouth is shaped into an 'O' and he just has the urge to bite your bottom lip so he just does it, even sticking his tongue into your opened mouth. It was an opportunity, he took it.
He feels you tighten around his finger and it makes him grind down on you, accidentally pushing himself deeper. You whine from it.
Andrew takes out his fingers to pull off his pants, flinging his dick out. Your eyebrows furrow upwards at the sight. It made you drool but the realization that that thing is going inside you snaps you.
He notices your worried expression and kisses your nose. "Don't worry. We don't have to go all the way if you're not ready."
You look down at his cock again, hard and red. Very red on the tip. "What about you?"
"I'll do this—" his cock glides on your wet pussy. "Ngh, if you don't mind?"
Your moan and a nod testifies to your consent and his hips got to work. The rubbing of his dick on your pussy and clit was a whole new level of pleasure for you. You thought that that was enough to make you crazy, he pushes in more of his cock into you with his thumb to get more friction and that makes your eyes roll behind and your back arching for more. Your small tits were displayed for him he had to grab onto it and squeeze. Adding a few pinches to your nipple before letting go.
The cute noises coming from your mouth motivates him to go faster and a teensy bit rougher. "Fuck, fuck! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum! Andrew!"
"Yeah? You're gonna cum? Go ahead, doll. Let go for me. Mmh, fuck! You feel so good."
Your pussy is soaking wet it makes his grinding much easier. And the sight, oh he loves seeing it sloppy. He can't wait to cum on your pussy. The thought makes him close to his climax. "Babe, I can't! I can't— I'm gonna cum!" He whimpers but he didn't know that you've already cummed a few seconds ago.
"I'm cumming! Haa!" He gasps and white shoots out, painting your stomach and your pussy, just like he wanted. He groans as he slowly grinds on you to ride out his orgasm. It took you a moment to notice his cheeks are red and his ears too.
His cum spreads all over pussy and inner thighs now from his slow grinds. Once he pulls away, he can't help but to stare at your messy pussy. Some of the white cum still running down you and it got into your hole. His intrusive thoughts win and he gathers some more cum and pushes them into your hole.
"Andrew!" You gasped from the sudden intrusion.
He chuckles, "Sorry." But his green eyes are still glued to your pussy. "I wanna lick it so bad but I don't want to taste my own cum, haha. Maybe next time."
#the coffin of andy and leyley#tcoaal#tcoaal smut#andy x reader#andrew x reader#andy graves x reader#andy graves#andy graves smut#andrew graves x reader#andrew graves smut#andrew graves
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more grumpy x sunshine theo x hufflepuff!reader please! fluff, but if you wanna add a lil angst in it too! reader is super sweet and everyone loves her (including the slytherine group who took her under their wing. i don’t have anything super specific, but i love your writing and need more of this trope. 🥹 maybe he’s grumpy towards everyone except her. anything haha!
a/n: theo is a little out of character here in my opinion buttttt him and the afraid of commitment trope just makes sense to me and it’s ok to be delulu 🫶🏾
word count: 927
you and theodore nott had interesting relationship. the slytherin boy had asked you out on a date and you gladly accepted. your time together went well, but instead of having the usual second and third dates, the two of you casually hung out together.
theodore's friends did not mind at all. they liked having you around. not only were you one of the few hufflepuffs who didn't negatively stereotype slytherins, but when you were around theodore was less grumpy and mean. they all knew he had crazy feelings for you.
this fact was less obvious to you, however. theodore was known for his nonchalant, grumpy nature and you were aware, but surely it would change with a girl he liked? you began to doubt that he even liked you after the date.
"maybe he just wants to be friends. i don't know what i did wrong." you grumbled to pansy. she gave you a puzzled look. you were sat with her in the slytherin common room at a friday night party.
"are you joking? he definitely likes you. he's just not that good at expressing his feelings." she motions over to where theodore was standing. across the common room, past the crowd of students was theodore, draco, and blaise. as soon as you turned your head to look in his direction your eyes met. you gave him a smile and a small wave which he responded to with a slight nod and brief tight lipped smirk back. he then turned back to his friends. you rolled your eyes.
"y/n he has been staring at you this entire time!" pansy said.
"if he actually likes me he needs to make it more obvious."
the two of your drift off in conversation about school, music, and eventually the likelihood of your classmates becoming rich and famous. but now you were thirsty. you excused yourself and stood up to grab yourself a drink.
a few boys you never talked to were standing around the drinks but you didn't mind. you would get something and quickly go back to pansy. you smiled at one of the boys who looked at you as you approached. you grabbed a can and began to make your way back until he spoke up.
"y/n?" he said which caught you off guard.
"huh?" you blinked blankly at him.
"y/n, right? i'm andrew. from divination." he smiled at you.
"oh. oh! andrew, hi." you smiled as you recognized your classmate. "sorry, you look so different out of your uniform."
"yeah, you too. you look incredible." he said, looking you up and down.
"thanks." you awkwardly laughed.
your brief greeting turned into a full on conversation which theodore, who was watching right next to you, did not enjoy.
"y/n." you paused your conversation and abruptly looked up to the side of you to see theodore. you tried to hold back a smile.
"hi theo." you replied. he gave you a small smile then looked past you at andrew.
"i need to talk to you." he said looking back at you. you tilted your head a little surprised and unsure what he wanted to talk about, but you kindly looked back at andrew.
"i'll see you later?" you said. he smiled and nodded. you walked away with theodore, missing the disgusted look he gave andrew.
the two of you settled in a corner on the opposite side of the common room. you leaned against the wall and looked up at him. all he did was give you another smile and place his hand on cheek.
"you're so pretty, y/n." his words are soft and you feel your knees practically go weak, but where was this coming from?
"theo.." you broke eye contact making him lift your head to look back at him. "what did you want to talk about?" you ask.
"i just wanted you to myself." he shrugged. you furrowed your eyebrows.
"stop being mean." you grab his hand and lower it off of you.
"what are you talking about?" he's shocked at your words, you never sound this serious.
"do you actually like me?" you ask him. he stays quiet. "it's frustrating because i thought our date went really well but i don't know what we are right now."
"it did go well." he replied.
"so now what, theo?" he's quiet again. his silence is loud to you. in your head it's obvious that he has no interest in being with you, so why entertain him? you scoff and walk again, hearing him call out your name as you exit the common room.
"y/n! stop, please." he caught up to you and you turned around to him. "i like you. a lot. i want to be with you but i don't think i'm relationship material."
"what do you mean?" you ask him.
"you should be with someone that can guarantee you a good relationship. i don’t know if i’m that person.” you frown at his words. theodore was had a reputation for being with multiple girls and coming off as somewhat rude but you saw more than that in him. the entire time you’ve known each other he’s treated you better than anyone ever has.
“i want to be with you, theo. no one else.” you say to him.
“are you sure?” he asks. you grab onto the collar of his shirt and pull him closer, giving him a kiss which he gladly reciprocates.
“very sure.” you say as you slightly pull apart, just for him to kiss you once again.
#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theo nott fluff#theodore nott fluff#theo nott x y/n#slytherin boys
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My first 'mature' ABDL story. It's about a husband and a wife who have a problem. I hope to write a lot more after this, so I hope you like it!
Finding Mommy
'This isn't working.'
The statement didn't come as a shock to Andrew. He knew it wasn't working. But he didn't want to look like he didn't care, so he persued it, already feeling resigned and bitter about the discussion's inevitable conclusion.
'What isn't?' he asked, softly.
'This. This whole...baby thing. I can't do it,' his wife, Tammy, waved her hand in his direction. He winced, glancing down at his apparel. A slightly soggy diaper, and a t-shirt. He'd been wearing the same thing to bed every so often for a couple months now. His wife had initially chuckled and teased him playfully, but lately...lately the playful teasing had stopped. She wouldn't remark on his padded state, except if the diaper got too close to her. 'The tapes scratch my skin,' she'd explain, but Andrew suspected it was something else.
She went on.
'I'm sorry. I thought I could. I know you really want this. But I can't do it. I can't...pretend you're a baby. The diapers were one thing...but...I can't do that,' she looked away, as if preparing herself to say something upsetting. 'You know...when you first told me...you made it sound...sound like a sex thing...I don't mind that. I don't even mind...using them, sometimes...like...like before...you know?'
She trailed off, looking at Andrew, a pained expression on her face. Andrew's mind flashed back to when he'd first told her, almost a year and a half ago. How she'd been so...accepting.
--------------------------------
'Are these ones good?' Tammy asked, as she patted the package. 'I wanted to make sure I got good ones...I ordered these a few weeks after you told me...they just arrived on Monday.'
Andrew glanced at the large box of diapers, feeling a stirring of excitement at the fact that she'd bought so many...a whole case, in fact. God, what was she planning? Was this going to become a regular occurence? Was she going to keep him in diapers, for the whole day? Or wear herself? His head swam at the possibilities.
'I...uh...what are they?' he asked, licking his lips, nervously.
'Abena?' Tammy replied, scrunching up her face, trying to recall something. 'I...Abena X-plus? They had so many different names, but I think these are the good ones. Abri-form L4...The large ones...I wasn't sure what size we'd need...Oh.'
She suddenly stopped, pausing, as if worried about what she was going to say next. She reached into her (rather mysterious, to Andrew, at least) handbag, rummaging around. Andrew waited patiently for her to speak, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the large box on the bed. Abena X-plus was sure to be a world away from what he'd tried so far. He knew these were premium diapers. He felt himself jolt back to reality as Tammy started talking again.
'I bought...these...as well...'
Another package slid onto the bed, only this time it wasn't boxed or freshly delivered. It was clearly a packet of diapers. A packet of OPEN diapers.
'On the site I got the...uh...Abenas from, they were selling purple ones, too,' she said, nervously. 'So...I got some of those, in a smaller size...'
Andrew's mind could have exploded at that moment. Tammy stood up from the bed, an audible crinkling coming from her pyjama bottoms. Andrew couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the bulge of her diaper before, but he certainly noticed now. He stared at her rump almost hungrily as she turned sideways, looking coyly at him, grabbing the edge of her pyjama top and starting to lift it, revealing the purple waistband of the diaper.
Andrew stepped forwards, reaching out. His hand ran over her bottom, slipping off her trousers, until she was standing in just a diaper and a shirt. He patted the material of padding, pulling her close to him, hand trailing around and around the crinkly undergarment, feeling it, feeling /her/ through it.
'I...I guess you like it?' Tammy asked, feeling a little awkward. Andrew made a noise halfway between a sigh and a groan.
'Yes,' he replied, simply.
'Would you like to wear one, too?' she asked, wriggling her bottom against his crotch, making him tense a little.
'Y...yes...' he gasped, hardly believing what was happening...
'Then lay down on the bed for me...'
-----------------------------
That night had been amazing. Andrew couldn't believe his luck. They'd spent the whole evening in diapers, exploring and experimenting. It felt like his wildest fantasies had come true. This beautiful woman, his future wife (he'd chosen to tell her a little while after they got engaged), was willing to wear and use diapers for him. He couldn't believe it.
She seemed almost as eager as him, that evening. She did everything he'd ever fantasized about, sexually. She wet. She asked for a change. She changed him...they even had...well. Andrew wasn't sure what to call it. Lots of rubbing. Wet, squishy diapers pressing together, then pulled aside for the 'main event'. Was that diaper sex? He supposed so. It was wonderful, whatever it was.
He wondered if what happened next had been a turning point. At the end of the evening, when they were snuggled in bed, she'd sighed contentedly and lazily rolled out of bed.
'Be right back, hun,' she told him huskily, slipping out of the room in an instant.
She'd returned, after a couple minutes, undiapered, her bottoms now back on. She'd smiled and gotten back into bed with him.
------------
'Why did you take it off?' Andrew asked, a little confused. 'Didn't you like it?'
Tammy dodged the question, but sounded just as confused as Andrew. 'Well...we're done now, aren't we? I'm really tired...I don't think you're up to going again, even I wasn't...'
She paused, sidling up to him in the bed, absent-mindedly flattening the covers over her. 'Why haven't you taken yours off?' she asked, finally.
'I...Well. I just...thought I'd like to keep it on. That's...okay, right?'
A few moments ago, he'd been certain it would be. It seemed silly even to ask. But now he wasn't so sure.
'Oh. Um. Sure,' Tammy replied, smiling again. 'I love you.'
She kissed him, turning away, and Andrew slipped his arms around her from behind, murmuring 'I love you, too' into her neck.
---------------
'That was okay. It made me feel...sexy. I loved that I could have that effect on you. It made me feel good, too,' she thought for a moment. 'I felt like your partner, then. I felt like I was desirable, sexually, like...like this was a special secret, between us. Something for the bedroom, something kinky and fun. I didn't care that it was nappies, I knew people had fetishes...but this isn't just a fetish, is it?'
Andrew swallowed as she fixed him with a steely gaze.
'Is it, Andrew?'
He shook his head 'no'. It was more than that. He wished he'd explained before. He thought she'd understood.
'You...want to be a baby, don't you?'
Andrew's mouth opened in protest.
'No! I mean...not all the ti-'
Tammy raised a hand, cutting him off.
'I know. Not all the time. Not most of the time. Not forever. Just occasionally, right? Like when I tried before...but for real?'
Andrew swallowed and nodded again. He remembered the brief times she'd tried to play 'Mommy'.
--------------
'Uh...crawl to me...come here, you naughty little baby...'
Tammy's voice was strained, as she patted the top of her legs, calling Andrew over.
Meanwhile, Andrew himself was feeling...well. He wasn't sure exactly.
There was something a little exciting about the humiliation his wife was bringing to this role. He found something arousing about how she threatened to spank him, how she called him names and teased him. It felt, well, /naughty/, and he decided he sort of liked that. It was very erotic.
But...he wasn't looking for this to be erotic. Something was wrong. He didn't feel like a baby; he felt like a naughty boy being punished. He didn't feel safe and looked after. He felt chastised and a little ashamed. He felt unspeakably adult, despite the baby bonnet and mittens he was wearing. Instead of an innocent little baby, he was some weird guy, crawling around, pretending to be an infant, calling his wife 'Mommy'.
'Crawl to me!' Tammy repeated.
Andrew sighed, starting to move.
'Yes, Mommy...'
-------------------
'I thought that was really weird, but you know...' Tammy shrugged. 'I tried. For you. I thought you wanted that. I thought it was a sex thing still.'
Andrew shuffled in the bed, feeling uncomfortable. He wished he hadn't worn to bed, now. He'd felt a pang when he'd gone to pad up; his case of abenas was nearly empty; her package of molicares was two thirds full. He hadn't expected her to use them of her own volition, but it was a reminder of just how infrequently she'd worn, for him or otherwise.
'Then,' Tammy continued. 'Then you told me that wasn't what you wanted, either. You wanted it to be more...innocent...more 'snuggly'.' That last word was almost a snarl, and Andrew felt himself flinch.
'So I tried that, too. But I couldn't do it...I mean...' she sighed, pushing the hair back out of her eyes, sighing in frustration. 'Remember what I told you when you told me this stuff?'
Andrew nodded.
-----------------
'Aren't I...doing enough?' Tammy asked, a look of confusion on her face.
'No! No, it's not that...it's more that you're doing it the wrong way...' Andrew immediately regretted his words, seeing his wife's expression turn sour.
'No! I mean...I...I think maybe I didn't really explain what I want, not properly. It's not just the baby stuff, dressing up and that...I want...' he swallowed, hesitant.
'Well...I want it to be more...um...innocent? Like...like...I was a rea...' he stopped himself. 'Like, more snuggly? You know? Maybe some...cuddles...at bedt- at night time...I'd like to be, um...held...sometimes...'
Tammy stared at him as if he had just sprouted a third head.
'So...you want me to be like your real mother?'
'No!'
'As if you were a real baby, right?'
'I...No...I mean...it's not like you're my real mother...I...I just want you to...'
'To what? Look after you? Like an infant?' Tammy demanded, her voice even.
'I...I...in a way...yes...I just don't want it to always be so...sexual...'
Tammy sighed. There was a silence before she finally spoke.
'Okay. Look. This is pretty weird to me. I'm not comfortable with it. But I love you, Andrew. I always will,' she looked up as she spoke, taking Andrew's hand in her own. 'But I don't know how to deal with this. I don't think I can...do that. I'm sorry.'
'Oh.' replied Andrew, simply. He hated himself at that moment. If he'd been honest from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened.
'But,' Tammy started, nibbling her lip. 'BUT. I'd like to be okay with it. So...You can do something...something small...I don't know, you could wear a nappy to bed. And I'll try to get more comfy with the idea.'
Andrew's heart leapt. Everything was going to be okay.
---------------
Andrew's heart sank. Everything was going wrong.
But Tammy wasn't done yet...
'I tried so hard to...to accept this. I started off like...like it was no big deal, remember? I used to tease you and you'd smile and for a bit, I thought maybe I could be okay with it. But then, then you started to...I don't know. Resent me? You pulled away. It wasn't enough for you. And maybe I pulled away, too. It hurt to see you wanting me to give you something I wouldn't, couldn't give you. It hurt to see you shut me out because I couldn't understand. So...now we're here...'
'Where is here?' Andrew said, asking, for the second time that night, a question which he really didn't feel he needed to ask, but if he didn't ask it, he knew it would appear he didn't care.
'Here? Here is...my husband wants to be treated like a baby...NON sexually...and I can't cope with it,’ she paused, seemingly thinking hard about something. Her mouth opened again, this time drawing out the sound of one little word, waiting for a statement to follow it.
‘So….’
Andrew swallowed. He waited for the crushing blow. He didn’t know what she would say, but he could guess.
‘So you can’t wear diapers anymore around me…’
‘So I don’t want diapers in the house anymore…’
‘So I don’t love him anymore….’
‘So I /can’t/ love him anymore, and I think we need to get a divorce…’
He knew whatever was said next would change their relationship forever. He was about to lose something, he didn’t know what exactly, but he also knew life would be a lot harder without him. He looked up at her with grim determination, resigned to whatever awful things came out of her mouth next.
‘So…’ she began again, and Andrew felt himself stiffen, worry making his heart pound.
‘So I think we need to find him…find you…someone who can.’
Andrew gawped at her. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all. What was she saying? Was she leaving him? She must be… she was just being the wonderful woman she always had been, willing to help him find a more ‘appropriate’ mate, someone who’d be happy to indulge him. He felt his eyes sting a little as tears formed, before, in the silence, another possibility occurred to him.
She’d been watching him closely, and seemed to notice as a flash of something, hope, realization maybe, passed across his face. He addressed her again, voice shaky.
‘Do you mea-‘ he was cut off abruptly.
‘I mean, just someone to do that for you, you know?’ Tammy explained, her voice emphasizing the word ‘that’ in a way that made it clear she found ‘that’ distasteful. ‘I…no sex. I’m not leaving you. I love you, I always will, I think. I hope. I just…I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, Andrew. And…I know this is so, so important to you. I see it, Andy, I see how much you want it…’
It’s her turn to look scared now, her eyes filled with tears, rolling freely down her cheeks. She’s shivering, but it’s not cold. Wordlessly, Andrew embraced her, his own manly sob joining her small, squeaking ones, her voice cracking as she tried to go on.
‘I…I don’t want to lose you…I’m…I wanted so badly to m…make you happy, but I CAN’T. I’m a horrible, awful wife. I’m a fuck-up. I…I don’t know why you married me!’ she howls, throwing herself into Andrew’s chest, his arms soothing her, rubbing her back, shh-ing her like you would a crying child. A tiny smile formed on his lips for a moment, as he considered the role reversal.
But it was soon replaced by another kind of smile, the kind that happens when you realize maybe you’re not alone, that your partner is just as afraid of what’s happening as you. That he or she is afraid of the exact same things. It was a tearful, almost regret-filled smile.
‘If only we’d talked about this sooner…’
He shook his head, clearing his mind. Right now, he had to help Tammy feel better.
‘Ohh…oh hun…’ he said, his own voice wavering, fighting back another hard sob. ‘Shhh… you know, I’ve been worried about the same thing. I thought I was an awful husband. I wondered why you wanted to be with me. I didn’t understand. I thought…just now, you were going to leave me…’
Tammy jerked back, head snapping upwards to look at him, a look of something…hurt, Andrew decides. Hurt he’d think she would do that. Her face pink and flushed, her cheeks damp with too many tears.
‘Never,’ She retorted, instantly, and then she was back in his arms, crying anew. ‘Never…I…I NEVER want to lose you…’
Andrew smiled again, sighing, a little in relief. Of course, given her earlier outburst, he already knew that…but it was lovely to have confirmation.
‘I know Tam, I really do. Now, at least. But I want to let you know, I love you too. I don’t think you’re an awful wife…you’ve been so understanding. Please, don’t think I don’t love you, don’t think I resent you, or hate you or think ANYTHING bad about you, after you’ve tried so hard to fulfill me and my selfish, perverted desires.’
He felt her shaking her head, disagreeing, with the part about her trying so hard, or the part about his desires being perverted, or both, or something else…he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter at that moment.
‘So I’m just telling you, no matter what, I’ll love you. I’d have loved you even if you said I could never wear another diaper. I’d have loved you even if you told me you’d stopped loving me. I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself…’
Tammy’s cheeks turned a little pinker, her sobs dying down.
‘Are you sure?’ she asks, not moving to look at him.
‘Positive,’ he says, more confident now. ‘Do you feel better now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you ready to talk about…it?’
‘…Yes.’
There was a pause as Tammy pulled away, slowly, reluctantly, so she could look at him. She smiled, her eyes wandering over him, as if appreciating him newly. When she reached the diaper her expression clouded, eyes flitting back up to his, as if just remembering they had something else to discuss now.
‘So…do you mean it?’ Andrew asked, anxiously.
‘Yes.’
He looked unconvinced, so Tammy continued.
‘I don’t have a problem with it. I really don’t. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, an-‘
‘Why didn’t you ask me before?’
‘Wh-what?’
‘Why didn’t you ask me before?’ Andrew repeated, his tone not demanding or forceful, but genuinely curious.
‘I…well…’ Tammy looked away, embarrassed. ‘I was scared…’
‘Why?’
‘Well…first I was worried you’d say no, because she wouldn’t be me, and you wouldn’t be able to feel anything with her. And if you said no, I’d be out of options. I don’t know what would h-happen if…’ her voice broke again, eyes swimming with tears. Andrew frowned slightly.
‘What else?’
‘I was afraid if you said yes, you would love her...too much. You’d leave me. Because you don’t love me at all, not anymore…how could you? I mean-‘
Andrew squeezed her hand suddenly, shaking his head, stopping her from working herself up again.
‘Not true, love. I want you. I love you. I’m not going to replace you. Even if I agree to this, I promise,nobody’ll never replace you…are you sure you’re okay with this?’
Tammy nodded.
‘Yes.’
‘What…sort of things would she, uh, do?’
‘I don’t know,’ Tammy admitted, seeming to shrink back a little. ‘I mean…change you? Give you bottles…pacifiers…play with you like a real baby.’
Andrew felt his heart flutter twice; once at the prospect of a genuine Mommy in his life, after so long… and once at the sudden feeling of utter love for Tammy that swept over him. ‘The ideal woman…’ he thought, snorting somewhere inside his head at how corny that was.
‘Would I be allowed to call her Mo…’ Andrew blushed, dropping his voice to a whisper.
‘Mommy?’ he finished, waiting.
‘Yes. Of course. I mean, that’s what you want, right? A Mommy? For the…the baby inside you? Just no sexual stuff. Please. I need that from you.’
Andrew nodded unhesitatingly. The thought of having sex with another woman (beyond occasional fantasies) had never even crossed his mind. He was missing an emotional, platonic, maternal bond, not a passionate sexual one.
They both smiled a moment, almost in triumph. They were still together. This might just work out.
‘So…’ Tammy started, grinning now.
‘So…’ Repeated Andrew, a playful smirk joining hers. ‘What do we do now?’
‘Now? Now we sleep. I’m so tired. I just want to be held. I’m so…worn out…’ she leant forwards again, nuzzling his chest, smiling softly. She sighed, a long, happy sigh, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
‘Okay…do…you want me to go change before we-‘
‘No. I don’t want you to leave.’
Her tone was demanding that time, and Andrew chuckled. She wriggled, pulling the covers out from under them both, as they each shuffled and worked to lie down, his arms still wrapped around her. Their heads reaching the pillows, Tammy smiled wearily, shifting away a little, finding her husband’s body too warm for comfort. He leaned forwards and kissed her on the forehead.
‘Goodnight Tammy…’
‘Goodnight…’ she hesitated, wondering if she was really going to say this, worrying he’d take it the wrong way. She stopped hesitating.
‘Baby,’ she added, one hand slipping down and squeezing the soggy bulge of his diaper. She watched his face for a reaction.
Andrew blushed a little as she withdrew her hand.
It was a simple, loving gesture. A show of acceptance.
It hadn’t meant anything else. She wasn’t going to baby him. She didn’t see him that way. She didn’t want to be ‘Mommy’. She was his wife, and she was just showing how much she cared, how safe he was with her, how much she truly wanted him to be happy, even in this.
At that moment, that was all that Andrew needed.
He lifted his hand to squeeze her retreating one, smiling.
‘Thanks,’ he said, earnestly.
With that, she sighed slightly and turned around, snuggling into him backwards. Tomorrow, she thought, was sure to be a very interesting day.
#ab dl diaper#diaper community#ab/dl diaper#diaper faggot#diaper sissy#diaper training#abdlsissy#abdlcouple#ab/dl mommy#abdlbabyboy#abdllittle#abdlbabygirl#abdlgermany#ab dl girl#abdlmommy#ab/dl babyboy#sissy tasks#diaper pee#diaper dependent#diaper regression#diaper gal#feminine sissy#faggot sissy#sis
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"You're in love with him, aren't you?"
Jean's eyes widened, and he stared vehemently at Andrew, who stared back equally with an apathetic look. It was midnight, and Jean was itching to go to the court to clear his head. Abby was skeptical, but her worries were eased when Wymack dialled a begrudging Andrew to pick Jean up along the way to court.
The car ride was silent. All Jean could hear was the cacophonious music on the radio that integrated with Jean's obdurate heart that sped up as Kevin fell on top of him after Andrew passed through a particularly steep curve.
Now, Jean was seated beside Andrew as the other man lounged across the couch and unabashedly watched Neil with a glint of voraciousness. He couldn't help himself share that notion when Kevin switched his racket to his left hand and demolished the Raven drills with pure, perfected ease.
"I'm not." The blatant lie left his lips so easily that it made Jean grimace.
Andrew gave Jean a once-over decidedly unimpressed at Jean's salient bluff. He thought that that concluded whatever minute conversation they were having; he was proven wrong, however, when Andrew tilted his head towards Jean in bemusement.
"How much longer are you going to lie, Valjean?" Andrew drawled out that ridiculous moniker, "Kevin's an idiot but if you keep looking at him like you want him to devour you whole-"
Jean let out an indignant shriek; a kaleidoscope of fragmented images poisoned his thoughts. Andrew's tone radiated glee, yet his face remained forever stand-offish.
He heard knocking on the other side of the plexiglass, and those doltish green eyes narrowed in a questioning expression. He felt his ears getting warmer as Andrew waved off Kevin for him to resume his practice. Kevin let out a curt nod before his eyes slid over to Jean as he retreated to the neatly arranged cones.
Jean saw Neil and Andrew exchange indecipherable looks before Neil glanced at Kevin and back at Jean before his eyes widened in realisation. To Jean's dismay, Neil let out a stupidly large grin before hobbling off to catch up with Kevin.
Great, he was so fucked.
#aftg#jean moreau#kevin day#kevjean#neil josten#andrew minyard#andreil#short snippet#aka andreil love to tease everyone and anyone
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The King's Men - Chapter Twelve
Day: Friday, March 8th / 9th* Time: 12:30 PM EST
Neil doesn't understand, so he lets it slide. "Is it exhausting seeing everything as a fight?" "Not as exhausting as running from everything must be." "Maybe," Neil allows. "I told you I'm working on that." "Work harder." "I can't unless you let me go," Neil says, quiet but firm. "Stand with me, but don't fight for me. Let me learn to fight for myself." "You never explained that change of heart." "Maybe I got tired of seeing Kevin bend. Or maybe it was the zombies." When Andrew just stares at him, Neil shrugs and says, "A few weeks back you and Renee argued contingency plans for a zombie apocalypse. She said she'd focus on survivors. You said you'd go back for some of us. Five of us," Neil says, splaying his fingers at Andrew. "You weren't counting Abby or Coach. Since you trust Renee to handle the rest of the team, I'm guessing the last spot is for Dobson." He knows Andrew won't answer that, so he drops his hand and says, "I didn't say anything then because I knew I'd look out for only me when the world went to hell. I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to go back for you." "You wouldn't," Andrew says. "You're a different kind of suicidal. Didn't you figure that out in December? You're bait. You're the martyr no one asked for or wanted." Neil knows he isn't that good of a person, but all he says is, "Only one way to be sure, right?" "You'll regret it." "Maybe, maybe not." Andrew looks away. "Don't come crying to me when someone breaks your face." "Thank you."
Art used with permission by I-Am-Weis. Thank you @i-am-weis!
*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.
#aftg#all for the game#neil josten#tkm#the kings men#the foxhole court#andrew minyard#palmetto state university#psu foxes#andreil#on this day in aftg#otdiaftg#palmetto state foxes#otdi all for the game#nora sakavic#the foxes#on this day in all for the game#kevin day#nicky hemmick#aaron minyard#coach wymack#betsy dobson#abby winfield#matt boyd#dan wilds#renee walker#allison reynolds#artists#i-am-weis
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Elephant in the Room Pt. 3
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Summary: John and you hooked up after a night at the bar. You two after that never saw each other again. At least until 12 years later when Price discovers that 9 months after your time together you had given birth to not one baby, but two. Word Count: 1592 Content: angst
Price honestly isn't sure what the best thing to do in this situation is, but he decides to softly knock, almost a tap, against the door once more before calling out your name, "I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but I need to talk to you."
It goes quiet on the other side of the door, and for a moment John thinks that you, fairly so, left him standing there alone talking to himself. That is of course before the door is swinging open revealing you once more. Your eyes are bloodshot and cheeks are stained with tears. He also sees what once was confusion on your face is now replaced with anger.
You take a step towards him with one arm raised. It's obvious that you're going to hit him, and while Price could very easily block it he lets you strike him.
The sound of flesh connecting rings out through the quiet as you slap him across the face. Your breath is heavy as you growl out, "Did you do it? Did you take him?"
He takes the hit in stride; you're hardly the strongest person to ever smack him before. Taking in your words though Price does feel a slight spark of anger in his chest at the idea of him doing this purposely. Although he supposes it does look very suspicious that he would show up right after Andrew was taken from your point of view.
The labs luckily don't make any moves, simply watch the interaction in silence. "I promise you I didn't do this. You can think whatever you want about me, but I wasn't the one who took him. I have an idea who did though." He stares into your eyes, trying to show you that he isn't lying. "If we could all go inside I promise to explain what I can."
"All?" It was at that moment that you finally seemed to take notice of the three other men behind him.
John steps to the side letting you have a better view of them, "these are my men; they're here to help."
Looking at you though you don't seem to take in any of his words. You shake your head slightly before turning, and walking back inside; leaving the door open for them to presumably follow you.
Silently you make your way into the dining room, and take a seat at the table. "Sit, please." Your voice is firm, but clearly exhausted. He sits down on the opposite side of you while Soap and Gaz sit on both sides of him. Ghost on the other hand stands in the corner next to the doorway. “Explain.”
"My team was sent a video of Andrew." John for once found himself lacking confidence, and unsure of what to say. He wanted to tell you the truth, but in your current state being blunt may only hurt you further right now. "They made demands of me and my team for his safe return. A highly skilled team is looking into the video as we speak, and I will be going to get him back as soon as I can."
"Why did they take him to threaten you? How did they connect him to you?" You ask after a few seconds, "He has never even met you before." Your voice cracks as you try to speak.
"Nothing is confirmed as of now, but I have an idea of how they found him. We'll keep you updated when new information comes to light. I assume after they found him they thought I had simply hid my family from any paper trail that led to me."
"So everything that's been happening is all because of some misunderstanding!" Your anger shining through with every word, "What now? I'm supposed to just sit here and wait; what's to stop them taking Amelia as well if you don't do as they say?"
“That’s actually why we’re here.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Ghost is surprisingly the one to speak up, “It means you and the kid are being relocated. Time to start packing the essentials.”
"Lieutenant!" Price quickly repremans, "What he meant to say is that it is no longer safe for you two to stay here while this situation is still active. We'd like to move you both onto base; a house is already set up for you."
“You’re serious?,” You asked, voice rising in disbelief, “We have to leave our home?”
“It’s for your safety; I wouldn’t be asking this of you in any other situation.”
“I just can’t believe that you-.” You begin to say before being cut off by a young feminine voice.
“Mom?”
Price quickly looks toward the voice, and there standing in the doorway is Amelia.
She looks quickly around the room, taking in and analyzing all the strangers in her home. Pausing once her focus is on him. He knows Amelia is a smart kid, and that with him in front of her there is no way she doesn't know who he is. It's obvious when it finally clicks in her head. Her shoulder tense and her eyes look sharper. "What's going on?"
Before she has even finished asking her question you are standing and rushing towards her. You bring Amelia into your arms, and begin to guide her out of the dining room. "Let's go talk in your room." You say before addressing him once more, "I'll be down in a bit. Uh feel free to get yourself something from the kitchen. I'll be down to discuss this more shortly."
No one says a thing as they watch you make your way around the corner and out of sight. The silence only lasts for a second though before Gaz is speaking up, "Cap, you solid?"
Price takes a defeated breath, “How much have I messed this whole thing up?”
“I’d say this conversation is actually going quite well. She could have refused to listen to us entirely.”
Soap is next to speak, “If anything I’d say Lt. is the one to make her hostile against him.”
“She wasn’t going to like being told she and her daughter have to leave their home. That anger of being told that was directed at me rather than the captain. I’d say I’m the only one who helped him during that conversation.” Ghost states back.
Before Soap can say anything further Price interrupts them, “Enough you two; you’re not about to start arguing right now.”
The room lulls back into silence before Gaz asks him, “What are we gonna do if she doesn’t agree to come with us?”
"We'll stay here then until she does," John wasn't sure what else could be said to convince you to come with them, but he would stay here with you both until he did, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."
Before more can be said you're striding back into the room once again; coming to stand across from him. "You're going to get Andrew back?"
"I won't rest until I do."
You give him a final nod and say, "We'll go with you; to the base. I'll go start packing I suppose then." With that you're walking out leaving Price stunned with how almost simple that exchange was.
The rest of their time spent there was filled with helping them pack their bags into the cars. Soap and Gaz talked the most to you both at this point; not wanting you two to be scared of them. Hoping to be a friendly face in a new location.
John wanted to try and talk to Amelia, but this situation was already overstimulating and he didn't want to add even more on top of that.
Finally everything was packed and ready to go. Laswell had texted him as well letting him know that the house was now fully set up for his girls.
His girls. Isn't that a nice thought.
It was at this moment though where John took a pause. You two had gotten into one of the vehicles and as much as he wanted to be with you both he wasn't sure if that would be the best right now. Being away right now might be better. Without much more thought to that he climbs into the other car; Ghost getting into the passenger's seat. He watches as Soap and Gaz climb into the car you're in before pulling out down the road back to base.
It's a quiet drive; neither one feeling particularly talkative. After so long though Ghost surprisingly does speak up. "You should have got in the car with them."
"Thank you for your input lieutenant," irritation was clear in his voice.
"You need to talk to them."
"That's ironic coming from you; someone who never wants to talk."
"I'm not the one who discovered they have a family this morning."
John tightens his grip on the steering wheel, "I think it's best to not overwhelm them right now."
Ignoring what he just said, Ghost continues, "Time heals all wounds they say. The sooner you have an honest talk with them the sooner the healing can begin."
"Time is not always enough; sometimes you have to amputate to heal." He retorts despite knowing that Ghost is only trying to help him. "If that means by the end of this they need to leave me to heal then so be it."
Ghost gives him a hard stare before fixing his gaze onto the road ahead. The rest of the drive is silent.
Taglist: @zarsghost @lulurubberduckie @mafer383 @7thsthings @sazifer
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Summer Breeze 3
Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.
I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!
Enjoy, my loverlies.
Despite the late night, the rest if the house, even your sad, wake up before noon. You would have rather headed down to the beach sooner but you didn't want to be rude. You are a guest after all.
Jacob and his buddies take a frisbee out in the water as Andy mentions jet-skis to you dad. He offers you to join but you decline, waving your book and towel at him. You know your dad won't appreciate the tagalong and you don't think the whole jet-ski thing is for you.
You spray yourself with heavy spf and hunker in to get into the meat of the novel you've barely been able to nibble on. The sand is hot under the towel, the sun beats down, and the water softly laps over the silt. It's like an ad for a resort.
You flip your sunglasses down as you recline, shielding yourself further with book. You're quickly enraptured as Jacob and his friends fade into the background and the distant tear of engines waft over the lake. The only thing you're missing is a proper drink. You brought a water bottle as you didn't bother to bring any coolers with you. The thought of drinking around your dad is still weird. It feels almost like condoning his bad habits.
You flip the pages, melting into your towel as the heat roils through the air. The frisbee flies onto the sand and Jacob runs up to grab it. Taylor yells at him to hurry up.
"Hey," Jacob waves at you, "wanna join?"
You peek over the top of the book. You should enjoy the water for a bit. Besides, you're starting to feel a bit ostracized.
"Sure," you mark your page and stand up. You peel off your crochet cove-rup and lick your flip flops away. "Monkey in the middle?"
He chuckles as he turn to the water, though you don't miss the none-to-subtle peek at your bikini.
"Just flinging it around," he shrugs, "you looked bored."
"Toss it, Jacob," Van snaps, "jesus."
Jacob hurls the frisbee, making his bossy friend run for it. You space yourself out to join the lazy catch and glide. You're quiet as you listen in on their conversation about third year. They're a year behind you.
"So, never been to your campus," Taylor says, "are the girls hot?"
"Charming," Jacob rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, but so are the guys," you stick your tongue out, "heavy competition."
Taylor frowns as the other three laugh at him. You wouldn't say they aren't cute but definitely not the type that stun at first sight. Average but average isn't so bad. You're about the same.
"Damn," Taylor mutters.
The conversation shifts to the game they were talking about last night. Some role play. They're going to a festival or something? You're not too sure.
As you toss the disc, you hear something across the water. You squint as one of the engines suddenly silences. There's a lull and another rips through the air. You tilt your head and lift your sunglasses as you try to see across the distance. It's only dark specks.
The frisbee lands a foot behind you. You got to get it and hurl it between Taylor and Cam. The motor quiets, a low putter, and you find your gaze drawn back to the scene. You can't make it out but you have a weird feeling.
As you stare out, the engine roars again. The small dot gets bigger and bigger, closer and closer. The jet-ski cuts up towards the shore, near enough that you feel the ripples but far enough not to be a hazard. You gasp as you see how your sad is draped over the front of the seat in front of Andy.
You push through the water and yell out. Holy shit. As you get to the sand, you notice the red smeared over your father's silver hair. No.
"What happened?" You shriek as Andy climbs up and grunts as he tries to haul your dad down to the ground.
"Told him to slow down," Andy pants, "he wouldn't listen--"
"Is he-- shit! Is he okay?" Your eyes glisten as your voice trembles.
"Dad," Jacob comes up behind you.
"Boys, go back to the house," Andy snarls.
"Wait! What--"
"Just listen. Go inside." He snarls and turns his attention back to you, "we gotta get him to the car."
You can't think, you can barely see as tears rise with your panic and disbelief. It can't be real. There's so much blood. So much.
"Dad," you quaver as you step closer.
"Goddamnit, someone help me with him," Andy barks, "Taylor, you're strong. Get over here."
You blink as time slows and the daylight blurs to obscure sounds and streaks. This is supposed to be a vacation. What's happening?
#summer breeze#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#andy barber x reader#series#drabble#defending jacob
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